Eleven

Sam

You turned 11 months old yesterday. I know it’s the most trite of phrases, but time has simply flown by with you. How can you be 11 months old when I was just pregnant with you yesterday? Although, I’ve somehow felt every single night since you were born seeing as you’ve made sure I was awake for them. How’s that for a dichotomy?

Sammer Jammer, you are a wonderful boy. You are so different from your sister that it’s hard to believe the same genes created the both of you. I told your daddy that we certainly got our money’s worth out of having two kids; we got two very different kids and two very different parenting experiences out of it. You are so laid back and easy-going about most things. You’re content to hang out in the play yard on your own or with one of us;  however, you love nothing more than being snuggled and played with. You are free with laughs, kisses and claps and will give them to anyone who wants one. Heck, you’ll give them to people who don’t want one. You don’t squabble over details.

You’re still not sleeping through the night. WHAT GIVES? To be fair, you have slept two nights this week. I’m hoping and praying and everything else I can do that it’s the beginning of a new phase and not just a cruel, cruel joke you’re playing on me.

You are delightfully chubby with rolls of delicious porkchops. You are ticklish and squirmy. You are still pretty lazy. You don’t crawl at all, but have recently started pulling yourself up onto your knees. I’m fairly certain you’re going to skip crawling altogether and go straight to walking. Probably only for very short distances before stopping to rest. Again, you are VERY LAZY.

I know moms aren’t supposed to have favorites, much less ever admit it, but you are my very favorite son. I was so worried about having a little boy and now I feel utterly ridiculous. You are my awesome little man. I do have to admit that changing your diaper is a bit more difficult than it was for your sister. As soon as your diaper is open, your hands are like little penis-seeking missiles. I have to practically wrestle you in order to keep your hands both poop-free and not fastened in the clean diaper. You’re also a fan of rolling over on the changing table and in the bath tub. Both are quite dangerous to your health, and yet you are 100% undeterred. Strangely, you’re also a fan of shoving parts of the cat into your mouth. Equally as dangerous to your health should she ever start to mind it.

You’ve started saying “mama” with regularity and accuracy. Sadly, much like your sister did, you really only say it when you’re pissed. It’s more of a whine than a word, but I’ll take what I can get. You love your sister, the cat, Baby Einstein videos (especially Santa’s Music Box), feeding yourself, baths, tickles, and smooches (both giving and receiving). You really only hate two things: having your nose wiped or otherwise messed with in any way and waiting for your bath after dinner. You know it’s coming next and you will whine and cry your fool head off until you get taken out of your highchair and stripped. Then? Magically you are all smiles and claps and happy naked dancing. It’s like some kind of miracle healing!! Every damn night!

We’re going to Ohio to visit my family in a couple of months and I absolutely cannot wait for them to meet you. While I’m dreading the thought of the drive (19 hrs each friggin’ way) I’m thrilled with the thought of being able to share you and Maddie with our family. I want them to see what I was able to grow up and make; a wonderful, beautiful, completely insane family. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I love you as big as the sky,
Mama

Pen Pals?

Would you like to exchange Christmas cards this year? Leave a comment and I’ll email you.

Advice

My step-sister, N, is pregnant with her first baby. She’s due sometime early March and is full of questions. I’m flattered that she thinks I’m an expert, but we all know that’s so not true. Anyhow, in an effort to be helpful, I’ve put together a little list for her. What have I forgotten?

1. You cannot have too many burp cloths. Buy as many as you think you’ll need, and then buy more.
2. A sheet saver is a wonderful thing that you will not fully appreciate until 2:00am.
3. Never, ever underestimate the power of The Swaddle. Use it and don’t feel guilty because it looks like you’ve put your baby in a straight-jacket. They love it. Trust me.
4. If you can’t breastfeed, you’re not a horrible mother. Both of my children are formula fed and aren’t dumb or riddled with disease. That being said, please give breastfeeding more than a fair chance. Get help from a lactation consultant before you leave the hospital. It seems like nursing would be easy and innate, but it’s surprisingly difficult.
5. Don’t waste money on newborn baby clothes. First of all, people love to buy tiny baby clothes and will get you more than you’ll ever need. Also, newborns grow FAST. Your baby will outgrow those clothes in the blink of an eye. Concentrate your buying efforts on 6, 9 and 12 month clothes.
6. End-of-season sales are a great way to get clothes for the next year. However, you HAVE to remember how old/what size your baby will be then. For instance, if you’re going to get some winter clothes for next year, remember that you’re going to want 9 or 12 month things. Next summer, you’ll want 12 and 18 months, etc.
7. Unless you’re planning on co-sleeping, get your baby used to sleeping in his/her crib at an early age. You’ll be grateful for it as he/she gets older. Trust me again. Also, start a bedtime routine that you’re willing to continue for a long time. Don’t get your baby used to a nightly bath if you don’t really want to commit to bathing him/her every. single. night.
8. Don’t be afraid to call the pediatrician if you’re scared or unsure. They really don’t mind and they’ve heard it all before. They’ll tell you if you need to be worried and when to bring in your baby/go to the ER. And if they tell you not to be worried but you still are, take your baby in anyway. Better safe than sorry.

Thanks

I wanted to thank all the commenters on yesterday’s post. You really gave me some ideas to think on and to talk to Gerald about. Things I hadn’t even thought of like keeping in touch with teachers! And gifted programs! And there’s no way in hell you’ll survive being home with your kids 24/7, you moron!

Seriously, though, I really appreciate the feedback. Sometimes this internet thingamahjig sure is handy, amirite?

Passionista

Hypothetically speaking, electrical storms are going to wipe out the Internet (perhaps forever). You have one day left to write about your passions: what do you want to say to the blogosphere in 300 words or less?

When I became a wife I didn’t stop being Erica and become Gerald’s Wife. I became Erica, Gerald’s Wife. While I’m an equal partner in my relationship, I am still my own person. I have friends outside of my marriage. I travel without my husband. This doesn’t take anything away from my marriage. As a matter of fact, it enhances it in that I’m not relying on my husband to be my sole source of comfort, entertainment and friendship.

However, becoming a mother was a whole different ballgame. I went from Erica, Gerald’s wife straight to Maddie’s Mom. I found it so easy to fall into that role and willingly give up autonomy. While a certain amount of loss of “freedom” is required when one has children, one doesn’t need to lose one’s sense of self.

I’m not saying it’s easy to do, because it’s not. But I’m worth the effort. I’m worth having a fulfilling career. I’m worth sacrificing things in order to stay home with my child. I’m worth pedicures. I’m worth a movie or shopping with a friend. I’m worth a trip to New York to spend a weekend talking about my blog. We are worth so much more than we allow ourselves to have. We’re worth it all WITHOUT GUILT.

I wholeheartedly believe that taking time for ourselves in whatever endeavor we choose is critically important in maintaining sanity. We’re better wives and mothers when we don’t feel smothered by those roles. Do something for yourself regularly. I’m not talking getting your hair cut twice a year. Or not sharing your Ben and Jerry’s with your kids. I’m talking something that’s just for you that makes you feel alive. Start running. Start dancing. Start writing. Start taking classes. Start traveling. Start working. Start something BIG.

Operator Error

I was trying to clear out my pending spamments this morning, and inadvertently deleted ALL the comments from the last few days. Nice, huh?

Any how, just wanted to let you know it was an accident and not me hating your comments.

Fun Fact Friday

* My daughter has fallen in love with two new things this week. The movie Labyrinth and Clifford the Big Red Dog. Interesting trivia: In the end credits of Labyrinth, Jim Henson thanks Maurice Sendak, the author of Where the Wild Things Are, for inspiring the goblin muppets. For those of you playing along at home, Wild Things was Maddie’s most recent obsession before Labyrinth and Clifford. I’m pretty sure that’s 6 degrees of Maurice Sendak right there, yo.

* Also, Maddie calls him “Flifford.” Couldn’t you just die???

* I had to download the song “Magic Dance” from the Labyrinth soundtrack for non-stop playing in the car. Also, I have to sing it EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. If I dare to stop, Maddie shouts, “SING, MAMA!”

* I got myself some new jammies at Target yesterday in a size medium. MEDIUM, people. There is no way you can comprehend what that means to me. I still pick up clothes in the store and look at them thinking “There is no way in hell this is going to fit me. Look how effing small it is!” And lo and behold, that shit FITS. I’m like some kind of skinny girl or something. Oddly enough, I seem to still be fat on the inside.

* Things are going well at The Restaurant. My GM has started giving me managerial duties and pretty soon I’ll be starting official manager training. I don’t really want to be a manager, per say, but it sure pays better than waiting tables. The town in which I work is filled with people that believe 10% is more than adequate for a tip. Even when the check is $50, $60 or $70. Cheap-ass bastards.

* Gerald and I are watching Merlin, a new BBC show. They play fast and loose with the Arthurian Legend, but it’s rilly rilly good, yo.

* I tried to like The Tudors, but just couldn’t get into it.

* This is a link-heavy post, isn’t it?

* I snuck one last pregnancy test from the stash before I gave them to Gerald last night. It was negative.

My husband isn’t really a jackass, I promise.

I guess my post yesterday gave the wrong impression of Gerald’s comment to me about my life being all about eating. It went down exactly the way I wrote it, but it wasn’t hurtful or dismissive on his part at all. No, he’s not doing the fast with me, but he doesn’t have to. I can’t exactly say that I’d do it along with him if our positions were reversed.

He’s very supportive and listens to my bitching and moaning without much complaint at all. He’s a good guy. Really. I mean it.

Here’s a snippet from our IM convo this morning:
Gerald: Fine, starting tomorrow I’m in, if that’ll make you and everybody feel better : b
I really don’t have a problem with it and can probably use it.

Erica: lol way to let the peer pressure getcha.

Gerald: Obviously, I support you completely, love you, and am excited for you to get what you want. . .in case that’s not clear : b
Well, I mean shit.  Better than being strung up by a wild posse of enraged mothers
or
is
it
?
: b

I think y’all have scared the bejezus out of him!

Fitnessy Friday

I sat down to write my FFF post and you know what? I got nuthin. I’m fresh out of fun facts.

So, instead of making up some facts for you, I’m going to ask for your help. As I previously mentioned, I’m going to participate in a half marathon in December. This gives me six months to train. I’m determined to walk the 13 miles. Let’s be clear: I don’t have any delusions of actually running.  What I need from you is a point in the right direction toward a training program. And a recommendation for shoes.

On your mark… Get set… Comment!

If this guy went to my church, I’d never miss a Sunday