PDG in K!

PDG is now three weeks into the life of a Kindergartener. I'm not quite sure how it happened this fast, or how it's no longer the weirdest concept possible that my baby boy is in school all day.

There's obviously been a lot of build-up to this point. First, I had to figure out where he'd attend, and as past posts explain, moving to Woodbridge ended up the best option I could fathom given the factors. Our neighborhood is pretty diverse, meaning the school within walking distance is also a mix of black and white and brown and all sorts of languages and cultures. The big kids that ran the townhouse community gang on their bikes all summer, now keep an eye out for PDG and the other younger ones in the halls. PDG loves the days he sees his big friends around, just like he likes absolutely everything about school.

Take that back. Bathrooms. We're still working on liking, and therefore using, public bathrooms. But let's be honest, what adult actually likes using public restrooms either?

The first event of the summer was registration and assessment. Apparently PDG rocked the reading and numbers portion, but when it came time to cut with scissors, my little perfectionist wanted to cut exactly in the center of the line, which predictably did not happen. This led to a shut-down pouting face that you've likely seen if you've seen PDG fail in even the slightest bit at anything. Luckily, his teacher Mrs D is amazing and already knew he'd be in her class, so she gave him a pep talk and encouraged us to keep using scissors at home for a while.

Two weeks later JG and I attended orientation where PDG got to practice going through the lunch line and then went off to ride a school bus with all the other Kindergarteners. Meanwhile the grownups sat in their tiny seats and filled out a bunch more forms and learned again about what we can send for snack and how the classroom is set up. It got more and more real. And emotions of all sorts about my family came bubbling up and out.

The first day the boys woke up at my house and we hurried around like usual to get out on time. Fantastically "on time" is 25 minutes later than last school year, but still early. Due to a wait list situation that still isn't resolved, PDG goes to his old daycare with MDG in the mornings, and then Miss S walks him to the school (she's in walking distance too!). For the first day, however, JG escorted him and I charged him with taking tons of pictures so I could live vicariously while I gave my first day spiel to my own scared new freshmen (and lots of nervous upperclassmen too). I checked my phone a ton to find all of these.

Since then my favorite part of each weekday is picking up MDG, driving the half mile to PDG's school, and then walking to the entrance and waiting for Mrs D's class to come out. It's all so organized, and reminds me daily why I prefer high school to these tiny tots. They walk with their mouths full of air like puffer fish and their arms folded before standing backpacks against the wall in the same order every day. Kindergarteners have to be released directly to a parent, so once Mrs D sees me, she calls PDG's name and he runs over, grabs my hand, and I pepper him with questions. There's almost always a huge smile followed by "I dunno" or  "I don't remember" to every question I ask. When he does start to remember, I get filled in on details of "clipping up" which is part of a positive rewards system, an overview of lunch or specials (art has been rocky so far), minor tattles on the girl at his table who talks too much and occasionally clips down, and snippets of songs about the calendar, letters of the alphabet or his new favorite book: Chicka Chicka Boom Boom.

MDG loves to see the crossing guard as we walk from the car to the entrance and back again, and entertains the other parents and waiting little siblings. We take a break from learning to relax in our downstairs "imagination station" with no screens for a while. Then there's dinner or playing outside, or some PBS Kids apps, or baths before 20 minutes of reading and bedtime and repeat.

I can't believe he's so big, but I also can't imagine a better Kindergarten experience so far.  And hey, if he ever does go #2 at school, an hour of solo iPad time awaits.

PDG Turns Four!

Well, it happened. My little baby PDG got all grown on me and now is a whopping four years old. He's still my little PDG Pie though, and I still want to eat him up!

At any rate, turning four apparently means a lot of celebrating. I mean, there was the sleepover the week before, and then the anticipation of a daily countdown from then until the 12th.

On Friday we took some cupcakes (because PDG insisted that this year he wanted cupcakes and cake) to his daycare. All the big kids happily sang to him, especially knowing they got a treat for having done absolutely nothing. That's the best part about birthdays right - getting treats just for existing? Even better when it's just for someone else existing.

Saturday PDG awoke fully aware it was the big day, and unable to contain his excitement. By the time Mama and Papa H arrived, we knew there'd be no nap. Instead, we made cupcakes.

Before the official party at 5pm, we had to give in and do some presents early because somebody just coud not wait another minute.

Sidenote: PDG's current fascination with puzzles is driving J-Man's fight against tiny toy pieces struggle to the limits.

We decided on a not-quite party this year. Paw Patrol ribbon, TMNT napkins, and Batman plates with a random pin the tail on the donkey and tons of fruit and pizza made for an odd assortment of decorations and a menu.

PDG loved it though. LOVED it. And with his very very best friend Lil O, as well as his neighborhood church crew and a happy-to-tag-along Charlie, it was the most kid activity our backyarad has seen yet. And by far the most our living room has endured. Thank heavens for Lego Movie on DVR to keep us warm as the sun started to set.

All in all, a great day celebrating a great kid.

And before I forget, his stats. He's 40lbs even - 81% - and 44 inches tall - 98%. He could answer most of the doctor's questions, but clearly I need to get him a tutor so he knows how to answer "what gallops?" next time. (Honestly, can doctors give us a cheat sheet ahead of time so I can teach to the test? Not that I do that as a teacher or anything, but my competitive edge totally took over and I really wanted my kid in the 99% in the 'random doctor questions at a checkup' category too. I'm just sayin'...)

Hugs and kisses to my big little baby.

Math, Logically

I've asked my parents before if there were early signs in my childhood that I was going to be different. And by different I mean, you know... a mathlete.

I don't remember not loving numbers more than words, or feeling intense satisfaction after having solved a problem. Reading was fine. Writing I eventually started to get pretty into, when simply playing out stories with real toys became frowned upon. Math, though, it's always been my thing.

So I've asked because I now have a little guy I'm curious about. Here he is, in case you'd forgotten. (He's totally ignoring my pleas not to grow up so fast!)

But back to math, PDG has been doing something a little different lately. One, he's into Legos - the real kind with tiny pieces that you step on and curse everything you can think of while carefully trying not to actually curse since the Lego Movie has proven that he's really good at quoting things. But, since he's into real Legos, MDG has a renewed interest in the Duplo knockoffs that we have called Megablocks. And so, because this is how it goes with two kids, PDG will often decide he isn't into real Legos anymore and would rather take over MDG's "lego blocks" and make things like this.

Notice anything? Perhaps how perfectly symmetrical it is? Because that's how every single creation PDG builds is. If there aren't two or four matching pieces, then it doesn't belong in his tower/plane/car/rocket.

Miss S at Daycare, who also has a gigantic tub of Megablocks, thinks it's an awareness of color. I'm not fully convinced. My inner numbers lover is hoping that PDG is turning into a math kid. One who will one day get excited by the prospect of solving a logic problem like this that a friend has posted on facebook.

No, I haven't solved it. It would take a super long time. But I did lie awake thinking about it at 3am recently for no reason other than I wanted to. I really really wanted to. And maybe, when I'm not an exhausted mama chasing after two strong-willed toddlers all the time, I'll reread this post and sit down and do it.

Maybe.

Back in Action

I'm baa-aack!

You guys, I know I took my longest hiatus ever but I promise, I'm back. At least, well, on a more regular basis than this spring.

If you're wondering what I've been up to, I decided to try my hand at some other writing. I've written a manuscript and it's been a surprising amount of fun. I mean, it might be horrifically awful, but it's an accomplishment so I feel good about that. And I'm working my way through edits and rewrites and even letting J-Man go through it. (by the way, J-Man is so not the target audience... it's a YA romantic novel written like a blog - where ever would I get that idea? -  with the main characters in high school).

Beyond that I've been wrapping up my 3rd year at WSHS and dealing with my crazy fellow teacher and her antics and generally surviving the exhaustion of two high-energy needy toddlers. I think someone forgot to tell MDG that terrible twos can wait to kick in until he's hit his second birthday.

In March/April we traveled to Texas and Louisiana, in May we hit up Apple Blossom, and aside from those we've showered Big Sis for the upcoming arrival of baby cousin boy or girl, started revisiting our favorite parks, convinced the landlords to buy us a more efficient and quieter toilet, gotten MDG down to using a paci only when sleeping, and traded which parent drives which car to work.

As I type, I'm currently enjoying my Mom Vacation Week where the boys are happily playing at Miss S's house with their friends while I spend my days doing a combination of chores at a relaxed pace while watching terrible tv like Pretty Little Liars, making homemade lasagnas, eating bagels in Panera working on my book, getting my hair done and failing to successfully nap. It feels really good, and it's just what I need before it's time to implement Camp Nicole next week for my 8 weeks home with the boys.

So, in case you want to see more pictures, over the next few posts I'll try to include my favorites from the past three months. Then maybe, just maybe, get back into the groove of things.

Big Sis Brought the Snow!

It's been a weird, wet winter in these parts this year. While out by Mama and Papa H there's been plenty of the fluffy white stuff, those of us inside the beltway have mostly just gotten rain.  Sometimes freezing rain. Sometimes a dusting and then rain. But not that accumulating, watch-it-fall, beautiful snow.

Then, Big Sis came to town. And Big Sis has had a pretty rough winter this year. She's been saying how one of the major things she misses by living in the south is snow. She really, really wanted snow. And would you believe it? It came!

As a sidenote, Miss S, our fearlessly fabulous daycare provider, is in India celebrating a wedding for two and a half weeks, so Mama and Papa H have been amazingly watching both MDG and PDG recently. It's been on their terms, though, since it's a big undertaking, meaning they've stayed out at their house. So last week we went five whole nights with no bedtime stories or early morning potty adventures. The house felt strange and empty. The boys were obviously in great hands, but they weren't my hands, which felt really odd. (If you're wondering what I did to keep busy and distracted- I read the entire Divergent series in a week... like a fourteen-year-old. You can judge.)

So after a lovely Valentine's Day weekend, which I will hopefully post about this week, I drove Big Sis and the boys out to Mama and Papa H's house where they would spend the following days. It was a little gamble, but one that paid off when at 4:30 my county preemptively called off school for the next day. So for the first time this year, the boys and I woke up to a true snow day. Unlike the previous two we've had, and the many 2-hour delays, we actually had inches to play in, kick around, throw, scrape, and stare at in confusion. You can guess which of us did which of those actions.

Without further ado, here we are, playing in the snow at Mama and Papa H's.

No tears, but he was not impressed

like the boots? Big Sis didn't pack like her snow dreams would be coming true

Pretty sure teachers love snow days even more than students

MDG 14 Months

Whoa, January, where'd you go? Did I miss you while hanging out in the bathroom with PDG? Or sleeping in during all those unnecessary 2-hour delays? Maybe you happened when this guy grew up even more?!

Seriously, this is getting to be too much.  MDG is adding words now. Like his super-talkative big brother. "Mama" and "eat-eat" (his caregiver uses that term a lot, like 'ok boys, time to eat-eat, put away your toys') are the newest on the list.

No new teeth, still four and four, but his appetite is getting intense. Just ask anyone who has ever fed him berries.  Or popcorn. And, my curiosity has almost taken me to give him a straw and a gallon of milk and see what happens. Except, I think he might drink it all and throw up. Which I'd have to clean up. And my doctor would have to remind me only 24-30oz maximum, not the 35-40 he'd prefer, is all this boy actually needs.

with our friend Baby C

He's got rhythm. He's got a fast little waddle. He's got pulling his pants down in inappropriate situations. He's his father's son.

(you decide just how related those last four sentences are. just kidding. or am I?)

 But for real, he's still our social, happy baby big boy who sleeps hard, plays harder, and smiles hardest.

Potties and Pull-ups and Poops and PDG

It's decided. Potty training is the worst.

Let's add this to the list of parenting downers that no one tells you about.  Or at least, no one told me about.

I know some kids are just easy to train.  And some parents are probably better at recognizing when a kid is (the mystically elusive) "ready." Still. This seems like it shouldn't be so hard. And if it's gonna be so hard, why didn't anybody say something?!

Here's our journey so far -

1) over Christmas break declare we will be a diaper free household (obviously premature, but sometimes I aim to be the overachiever)

2) proclaim how awesome PDG is (and by default J-Man and I) when he mastered peeing in like two days

3) remain in denial when he became terrified of pooping on the toilet and saved it for a few rare night/nap diapers over those two weeks

4)feel defeated when he pooped his pants the first day back in daycare and I had to be informed he needed to stay in pullups until this was handled

5)get confused when the return to pullups also somehow caused more mini-accidents

6) wonder when my ever-regular, twice-a-day-pooper kid decided to transition into a poop-hating, backed-up, toilet-fearer

7) complain woefully to J-Man that PDG will never ever learn to just sit down and poop! (despite that somewhere during steps 1-6 he did have some success and earn lots of cookies and jelly beans and mama dances and hi-fives)

8) eventually agree that ok, maybe he will learn one day.  and it will be on his terms. and when he does eventually learn, it will be all the sweeter. and maybe in some cosmic parenting balance, it will all mean that MDG will be super easy to train. I mean, he already grabs the potty-seat, stands on the stool, and pulls down his pants. Not bad for 13 months.

Anyway, this is all to say that I have no clue what we're doing, or how many more times PDG will announce "I didn't poop my pants. I pooped my pullup!" when at a park or the Burger King playplace, or the car outside of daycare. We'll get there. And then I can stop being the mom who talks too much about poop. I mean, this is me holding back. Yikes!

But also, how great will it be when extended stays in the bathroom can look only like this?!

My ME week

Summer is here!

How fantastic is that? I know there is all this awareness out there that teachers put in plenty of work over the summer and some don't get paid and yada yada yada... but, let's not act like summer isn't still pretty amazing. I've worked my behind off and then, like some sort of magic spell, I got to turn off my 5am cell phone alarm the night of the 19th and not need to turn it back on until Labor Day.

Yeah, I know, I still have two precious alarms named PDG and MDG, and yeah, one of them does still sound his own feed-me alarm between 4am and 6am, but we're counting blessings here.

So, how did I celebrate the dawn of summer vacation? What makes me so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed during today's nap? It's a secret I will tell you so long as you promise to only judge me secretly and not to my face.

I took a ME week.

Not a MOM week. Not a TEACHER week. Not a WIFE week. Not even a H-FAMILY week. It was a week just for Nicole. I took the boys to daycare, spent the day as I pleased, and then picked them back up.

I think it is one of those things every mom, whether working inside or outside the home, daydreams of enjoying.  (right?)

I felt so guilty leading up to it that I had to practice how to describe it to people. I worried about what they would think. Would it make me a bad mom? Do good moms want a week without their kids? What would I even do?

But then Monday came, and aside from the two round trip schleps down south to Miss S's, I found myself with about 6.5 hours or so to do with as I pleased.  So I napped, obviously, and I pumped, naturally, and I put on crime shows, and then I....  cleaned!

Ha! Surprised? Me too!

I cleaned and I loved it. No one immediately trampled in the dust piles or proudly unfolded clothes to announce who they belonged to. I sang to myself, and not Wheels on the Bus. I did something I used to think was a chore and I loved every minute of it. And then my heart melted when at 3:30 I picked up those little boys of mine and saw their smiling faces.

Everyone had a good day.

And so went the next four. I napped daily, and pumped daily, and did indulge in one massage (thanks J-Man). But I changed out all MDG's 6mo clothes for 9mo, and finished changing PDG from 2T to 3T. I did a billion loads of laundry.  I cleaned the bathroom and the bedrooms and the kitchen. I completed my first ever craigslist transaction and bought a sit-n-stand stroller for when I'd have my boys back full time. I shopped in Target instead of online! I cooked something that didn't call itself a 30-minute meal, and didn't come in a box.

All this, and when I picked up my kiddos, I still got to play with them.

At church on Sunday I was asked a few times how I felt because I looked refreshed. I finally had the courage to admit what I'd done. And to admit that now, after my me-week, I couldn't wait to have my boys all summer. I was/am excited to spend all day with them. I feel prepared. I'm not nearly as nervous as I was those final weeks of school leading up to this alone-with-two adventure. I may not be long-term SAHM material (and you know I give props to all those who are!), but I'm ready and willing and excited for my two months of it.

Bring it on, summer! We G's are ready to make some memories!

Spring Break Begins (2014)

First, I should say, I spoke too soon in my last post. :(

Ok, moving on from that unpleasantness...

We've survived the stomach bug and finally arrived at Spring Break.

Last year we went to San Francisco and Sea-Tac and found out we were gonna have another baby over spring break.  This year's agenda includes none of that.  Especially the pregnancy news.

Instead the plan is to roll with the weather, nap whenever possible, race across the yard a billion times, walk to the park daily, eat 'belly beans' and Easter treats, sing the itsy-bitsy spider on repeat, scrape our knees, refuse to come inside for dinner, squeal for the heck of it, and at some point get to see Mama and Papa H.

So far so good.

Friday was a low key, play at the park, quick dinner, and more backyard play, sort of evening. The reality of a week off hadn't yet set in.

Saturday, though, was full force.  PDG and I left MDG home with J-Man for morning naps while we indulged in a walk to 7-11 for donuts and juice that we later enjoyed after continuing to walk to the park.  We goofed in the backyard before I left to see my students in the high school performance of Bye Bye Birdie.  Turns out I teach some all-stars of more than just Spanish.  Also, I forgot how stage musicals can be really, really long.

That evening KB and family hosted a barbecue at their house.  PDG, his friend Lil O, and another 2 year old were inseparable.  While last time Lil O and PDG fought endlessly for this car...

...this time the three of them managed to share pretty well.  In fact, they kinda didn't need us.  On occasion PDG would appear to ask "sip?" or "bite?" but otherwise he freely chased the dog, drove the ride-on toys, kicked the ball, or simply ran and screamed with delight.  Is this what parenting bigger kids is like?  Weird.

Then Saturday Miss S, our daycare provider, hosted us for an Easter Party.  She went all out with treats and baskets and snacks and prizes.  While PDG was pretty bad at the games, he took the egg hunt seriously.  Especially when he figured out you could open the eggs and find treats he'd never seen before.

You should know by now that PDG doesn't smile when he's investigating new things. These were the best pictures we could get. And, yeah, J-Man was the only adult there to get his face painted. Go figure.

The weather was so perfect that as soon as naps were over we called up Miss M to meet her and N and friends at Yards Park for general chillaxing.  Thankfully no one minded the arrival of our family of four, and the babies were welcomed and played with and happily included into the crew.  PDG did try to eat their blue crab shells from their lunch, certain that meat must be a part of that pile.  I guess that'll now be on the agenda for summer break.

It was a whirlwind weekend, and that's before any of the days off even started.

I'd keep writing, but as I mentioned in my agenda, naps are at the top of the list.  I think it'll take me years to feel rested again, so might as well start now.

Baby Stomach Bug Times Two - and Jerky

The Scene:
3pm on a Wednesday.  MDG and PDG have both recently awoken from naps.  PDG is on the couch strangely disinterested in goldfish crackers, a typical favorite. I am changing MDG's diaper in the nursery and checking to be sure he doesn't have a fever to accompany the morning's vomiting (the reason we're home in the first place on a Wednesday at 3pm)

Me: Ok, MDG, no fever. Let's grab a diaper.

PDG (arriving at the top of the stairs): Belly hurts

Me: Thats right, MDG's belly does hurt. That's why...

(I look down to see MDG pooping all over the changing table, his outfit, the clean diaper I just grabbed and my hand)

Me: Yuck!

PDG: Mommy, belly hurt!

Me: Just a second sweetie, MDG is going poop-poop everywhere.  Oh, and it just keeps coming!

PDG: Mommy! (insert intense vomiting noises here) (now insert terrified toddler crying) (some more vomit noises as toddler is quickly shuffled to the toilet that he manages to miss) (more confused crying)(a mother's exasperated when-will-it-end sigh)(a little more vomit)(a shoulder shrug from a confused toddler before much more crying)

Me: Ok, everybody, clothes off.  Let's take a bubble bath.

PDG: Bath?

MDG: (adorable baby giggles before one last runny mustard poop)

End Scene

Been there?  If you have 2+ kids or 2+ siblings then quite likely.  Grrr-oss!!

As for the backstory, here goes.  Tuesday night is J-Man's night to feed MDG.  It gives me a break once a week to get slightly less interrupted sleep.  It's been going great, but with our new allowance of some crying (with hopes of self-soothing), it was more disjointed than usual this week.  MDG woke more than he has been and even PDG woke once at 1am, an extreme rarity.  He usually embraces sleep even better than I do.

After MDG's 5am wake up feed he threw up a good bit on me.  It was a little alarming, but I figured he just was a little piggy and ate too much since I was engorged from having taken the night off.  I still got him dressed for daycare, finished dressing myself, got PDG dressed and headed out.  I told Miss S that he'd thrown up more than usual but also gave my diagnosis.  She said to keep my phone handy but he was probably fine.

Clearly, he wasn't.  He threw up his whole 8:30 bottle.  Everywhere. So by 9:30 I was finding coverage for my classes, plopping in The Lion King in Spanish and rushing to pick up my boys.

The doctor wasn't too concerned since there was no fever and another daycare toddler was out that day having thrown up the night before.  Probably just a bug.  I was told to nurse often and watch for signs of dehydration.

Not that any of that stopped my crazy-anxious brain from diagnosing my son with a rare banana allergy that manifested itself in delayed and incomplete symptoms.  Then, oh the guilt I felt for starting him on solids at the beginning end of the recommended 4-6 month range.   Was I a terrible mom?  Did MDG have something scary and complicated wrong with him?

After spending the afternoon nursing nearly every 30 minutes and taking mini catnaps during PDG's nap we arrived at the scene above.  A projectile stomach flu explosion. A cleanup nightmare.

So how did we solve it?

Frozen.

For me as much as for them.

Luckily, there was a little more silver lining to the day.  Thanks to my good friend M, back from her honeymoon, we were able to send J-Man a special Jerky delivery that looked like this.

And the best news of all, knock on wood, is that both J-Man and I managed to avoid this particular illness.  So far.

MDG at Two Months

It's been a rough go of things here lately.  Hence the month-long hiatus.  But, as it has been pointed out to me recently, writing is good for me when life is throwing lemons, so here goes.

Rather than elaborating on how I haven't been so happy and why, let's talk about MDG.

He had his two month check up recently and weighed in at a whopping 13lb 4oz - nearly double birth weight!  That puts him at 75th percentile. His pediatrician was pleased and suggested that we start to wean from those night feedings so that by 3 months, by which time he'll certainly be 14lbs (her magic number) he will sleep 10 hours straight.  We've been working on dropping that first feeding and can now sometimes get from 9pm-5:30am with one nursing session.  But he is still waking at least once more for some love and attention too.  I know there are a billion theories on baby sleep.  I have no clue which ones really apply to this baby.  So, given the sadness going on, we're prioritizing mama's sleep and just making it work until he's more like 4 months and can handle self-soothing and crying it out.  So yeah, he does still sleep in the swing more often than I'd care to actually admit.

these swaddle sacks save my life

He was more average for height at 23" and has started wearing some 6month sleepers already.  I'm trying to get him as many wears in his adorable 0-3 month outfits as possible, but along with moving into size 2 diapers last week, he's outgrowing these clothes too.

Not that two month olds do much, he does the normal things.  Follows us with his eyes. Coos plenty.  And unlike his big brother at this age, gives away smiles for free. Just smiling at him can get a huge one back in response.  It's really quite fabulous.

minutes before his appt and shots

We had a brief anxiety-inducing issue when he started daycare and refused bottles, but he's doing pretty well with them again now.  I think he was just stubbornly waiting for the real deal before realizing eight hours on just four or five ounces wouldn't make anybody happy.  Now it's more like 12-16oz, a manageable number I can pump without dipping into the freezer just yet.

Oh, and he takes a paci with no trouble now.  Crazy, right?  He's been congested with some germs that PDG likely hacked all over him, but besides when the snot blocks his breathing easily, he really likes the soothing pacifiers.

Overall, he's healthy and happy.  Just not a sleeper.  And given how he looks like his daddy, there's a good chance that this poor sleeping thing might also be a link the two of them share.  If so, pray for us all.  Seriously :)

The Guilt Bus

Ok, perhaps this was me being oversensitive.  It's ok, you can call me out on it if so.  This was before my hormones started raging lately (and J-Man will back me up, I am cray-cray with hormones these days) but this bus poster pissed me off.

First, I work for a lot of reasons.  Others have summed up the  reasons women may work far more eloquently than I can at this moment, but it isn't all just to pay bills.  I enjoy working.  I enjoy PDG too.  I can't wait for eight weeks with him this summer.  But I know myself to know that come August I'll enjoy a return to daily, scheduled grown up time, a feeling of accomplishment that is separate than the joys and accomplishments at home.  I like being pushed to learn daily (because boy is my Spanish still rustier than I'd like to admit!).  There's a lot I get out of being a working mama.  Just like there is a lot that women who choose to stay home get out of that experience.  To each her own.

But, even as a mom who happily works, there is that ever present mom-guilt.  I recognize that my PDG spends a solid 40-45 hours a week with a woman that is fantastic, but not his mother.  He is not the only baby who wants to be held.  She doesn't sing in that off tune harmony he's known since the womb.  She's great.  But she isn't Mom.

I do grade and plan as fast as I can so that I can pick PDG up before 4pm and not bring anything home. Generally I can even get him by 3:30.  It feels great to have daylight hours to play and giggle with him.  Or, with the recent dizzy spells, lie on the couch while he plays and giggles around me.

What I don't need, is some bus that keeps stopping in front of me telling me how I should be rushing to pick up my kid, and how traffic is getting in the way of me being a good and happy parent.

I hate traffic.  But I do know that PDG is somewhere safe.  Somewhere he is generally quite happy.  And if it takes me 15 minutes extra now and again because I have something to do, or because I got behind a bus, or because someone is having a terrible day and got in a wreck further down the road causing a major bottleneck, I don't need a guilt trip.   Thanks but no thanks

Pump It Up

Now that PDG is in daycare he has to take a bottle.  I was nervous about how that would all go.  I mean, he has taken them on occasion before, but not with any consistent pattern. I had heard that some babies transition better than others or might try to hold out for the real deal all day long.  That and the whole fear of "nipple confusion."

Quick aside: I don't think babies are ever really 'confused.'  I mean, maybe they get angry that bottles can flow faster than their mama's hoohas and yet provide less skin-to-skin comfort, but I'm pretty sure they know one from the other.

Back to the bottles though, I really didn't know how much to send.  The all-knowing internet gave me some equations and I guessed 16 ounces for the 9 hours he'd be gone.  I dug some out of the freezer stash, got the bottles all labeled with name and date and hoped he'd be cool about it all.

Turns out, not only does he like the bottle, he insists on holding it so that no one takes it, even when he's done.  Crazy boy.  Sometimes he even will cry when he's done.  That is, until he's distracted by anything shiny, crinkly, or hanging in his face.  Typical boy...

So since he is such a good eater I have had to turn into a pumping machine.  If this is TMI, sorry.  Earlier this year we invested in an electric pump with the hopes of me needing it while working.  My school even has a large storage closet that has been converted into the "mommy room."  The four of us pumping teachers all have keys and there is a special sign that we put out when we're in there that says "Mom at Work."  Inside is a comfy chair and big table, plus it's right by the bathroom for any sanitizing we might need.

That is, until this week.  Now there is a partition in the room so that two people can pump at once.  It's crazy awesome.  It's also really weird.  Friday I was in there eating my lunch the first time I shared the room.  I heard someone else come in, and while I ate my sandwich, hooked up to my little machine, and looked at my 400 photos on my phone of PDG I heard her machine turn on too.  I suddenly felt like a cow in some milk factory and very self conscious.  I knew who it was because she had announced herself when she came in, but otherwise we said nothing.  There was just the wha-shoo-wha-shoo of our pumps disguised as tote bags.

I don't know if I'll honestly be able to keep this up all the way until March, but it's good to know I'm in a school that supports it if I want to.  Maybe as PDG starts eating more solids he won't need as much milk during the day?  Or maybe it will get easier for me to relax and drink enough fluids?  Or maybe I'll get pregnant again before then and not be able to continue? (that's another topic for another post on another day).

At any rate, for now, PDG and I are hitting a routine together.  And at 5:45 on any weekday morning, you can see the amazing balancing act of PDG on one side and the pump on the other.  If there is any confusion going on in this house, it takes place when he stares at the attachment and wonders why it must make such a loud noise while stealing his milk.