Never ever, ever, EVER ask a woman when she's due if you're not 100% sure she's actually pregnant. Like, sure in that she told you directly that she's pregnant. Because I can tell you that if you're wrong, you're dead wrong. So don't even take the chance. Just keep your mouth shut.
I've been self-conscious after both kids were born that I still look pregnant, and more so now since some weight around my mid-section has been stubbornly sticking around. But never did I imagine that someone would actually think I'm pregnant. So when the first words out of the car dealership's financing guy's mouth were, "When are you due?" I was in disbelief.
"Excuse me?" I asked.
So he repeated himself. And I got to inform him that I wasn't actually pregnant.
Chris told me later that it was so awkward that he would honestly have paid $1,000 to be able to walk out of that room. If the question had come from the sales guy, I would have walked out and he would have lost a car sale. But the deal was practically done. The check had been written and credit scores pulled, and our car was being cleaned up and delivered out front. I mustered through the paperwork and let the tears come later.
One stupid question devastated me in a way I didn't think was possible. It shoved to the surface all the insecurities I have about my body. And it reminded me of the frustrations I battle in not being able to get back to my pre-pregnancy weight and how out of proportion I feel. Eight months after giving birth and making pain-stakingly slow progress (but progress, nonetheless) in trying to get back in shape and someone still thinks I'm pregnant? Despite feeling like I have more muscle tone than I ever have due to the weight lifting class I've been participating in, a total stranger still thinks I'm pregnant. I felt ready to throw my hands up in defeat.
If I wasn't already obsessed with how I look, I can't pass a mirror now without analyzing whether or not I think I look pregnant. I realize the sundresses I prefer wearing don't help my cause, but really, I ask myself, do I look pregnant enough to elicit a question from a stranger about my due date? A few days later, the question still hurts, but I'm at least leaning towards finally believing that this guy was out of his mind.
Kiera, Matteo, Oliver and Soren
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Goodbye Green Goblin
I sold the first car I've ever owned today. I shouldn't be sentimental about a car, but gosh, I've known my car longer than I've known my husband. At that point in my life, it was the biggest purchase I had ever made, but I was finished school and finally had the money since I'd found a full-time job. I bought a used forest green Toyota Corolla I found online, which a co-worker at the time nicknamed the Green Goblin.
Despite being such an ardent supporter of public transportation, I will admit I loved the freedom of having my own car. The days of having to ask for rides from friends, which became particularly imposing during a six-week-long transit strike, were suddenly a distant memory. My commute to work was reduced by a half an hour in each direction. I always knew I had a ride home late at night from parties. The inconviences of dealing with snow emergencies or trying to fit an oil change in during my lunch hour did not outweigh the everyday convience of going where I wanted when I wanted.
I was ready to drive the Green Goblin until it died, but Chris and I decided we needed to be a little more practical with kids. At 11 years old, a trip to the shop always seemed to hang over my head, along with the potential cost of the inevitable repairs. I knew it was time to upgrade to a more reliable vehicle.
We also sought a car that better fit out family. Since I'd bought the Corolla before I had kids, I wasn't thinking about how well car seats fit in the back seats or how much trunk space was available for hauling strollers and all the extra stuff kids require. I discovered when Oliver came along that if his rear-facing car seat sat behind the driver's seat, I was the only one short enough to drive the car. The trunk could comfortably fit a standard-size double stroller, but not much else.
Keeping in my mind that Chris commutes to the Wisconsin border and back each day and that we want a third kid and will potentially need to fit three car seats comfortably in the back, we opted for a Toyota Camry. It's a foot wider than my Corolla, has a large trunk and still gets Corolla-like gas mileage. And it's new. A first for Chris and me. I felt lucky my Corolla even had power windows and suddenly we were buying a car that had a navigation system, a back-up camera and a button you can push to start the car. The only thing that could have made Chris more excited is if we had been buying a boat.
The Green Goblin is probably headed to the big car heaven in the sky, but I have some good memories. The car took a friend and me out West for an extrordinary national park tour, ferried me countless times up to Duluth to visit Chris during the early stage of our relationship and got me safely to the hospital when I was in labor with Oliver and decided to drive myself to Labor and Delivery.
Despite being such an ardent supporter of public transportation, I will admit I loved the freedom of having my own car. The days of having to ask for rides from friends, which became particularly imposing during a six-week-long transit strike, were suddenly a distant memory. My commute to work was reduced by a half an hour in each direction. I always knew I had a ride home late at night from parties. The inconviences of dealing with snow emergencies or trying to fit an oil change in during my lunch hour did not outweigh the everyday convience of going where I wanted when I wanted.
I was ready to drive the Green Goblin until it died, but Chris and I decided we needed to be a little more practical with kids. At 11 years old, a trip to the shop always seemed to hang over my head, along with the potential cost of the inevitable repairs. I knew it was time to upgrade to a more reliable vehicle.
We also sought a car that better fit out family. Since I'd bought the Corolla before I had kids, I wasn't thinking about how well car seats fit in the back seats or how much trunk space was available for hauling strollers and all the extra stuff kids require. I discovered when Oliver came along that if his rear-facing car seat sat behind the driver's seat, I was the only one short enough to drive the car. The trunk could comfortably fit a standard-size double stroller, but not much else.
Keeping in my mind that Chris commutes to the Wisconsin border and back each day and that we want a third kid and will potentially need to fit three car seats comfortably in the back, we opted for a Toyota Camry. It's a foot wider than my Corolla, has a large trunk and still gets Corolla-like gas mileage. And it's new. A first for Chris and me. I felt lucky my Corolla even had power windows and suddenly we were buying a car that had a navigation system, a back-up camera and a button you can push to start the car. The only thing that could have made Chris more excited is if we had been buying a boat.
The Green Goblin is probably headed to the big car heaven in the sky, but I have some good memories. The car took a friend and me out West for an extrordinary national park tour, ferried me countless times up to Duluth to visit Chris during the early stage of our relationship and got me safely to the hospital when I was in labor with Oliver and decided to drive myself to Labor and Delivery.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Talking about kids at work
Of course I talk about my kids at work. If I'm not talking about, well, work, I'm probably talking about my kid or listening to co-workers talk about their kids. Nearly all the pictures displayed in my cubicle are of my kids. I even have their birth announcements up and I didn't even have my current job when either was born.
I was surprised when I read a recent Huffington Post article that there was a time when acknowledging you have kids - and that they're a priority too - was taboo. Yet, I still recognize that talk of kids and personal life is still internalized by women as not being a smart career move. (Whether bosses actually look at it this way, I don't know.) And so I'm very aware of how I approach these topics at work. Like the article's author, I'm in the camp of trying to change office culture one mom at a time.
On my first day I was asked by a non-reporting manager whether I wanted more kids, (we were talking about kids and how many kids everyone had or wanted to have, so the question was not out of line in my opinion) and without hesitation I told him "a couple more." I was asked to write a short bio about myself, which would be posted on the Intranet in a section introducing new employees. One of the suggested topics was previous employment, (along with family) so I wrote that I have a husband and kids and had worked in local government - but prior to this new position, had been a stay-at-home mom.
As I was getting to know my new co-workers, one of the first conversations I had with a fellow mom was that when she started two years prior to my arrival, she glossed over that she too had been a stay-at-home mom directly before taking her current job. She specifically left out dates when chatting with others about previous work experience and let people assume that there wasn't a three-year gap between her last job and her arrival in the office. She thought it was wonderful that I was so open about having been a stay-at-home mom and that I felt comfortable making that common knowledge in the office.
Maybe some women (or men) are worried about being respected and seen as competant. For me, my view is that I have nothing to hide and nothing to lose. Something I felt passionate about when returning to work was being in an office culture that supported work/life balance. I clearly don't want to work in a place where my boss and other co-workers don't think I'm a team player because I talk about kids. If they know what hobbies I'm passionate about, why shouldn't they also know I'm passionate about my kids? I also feel I can afford to take a chance with my candidness since my career aspirations are different from the woman trying to make partner or be chief resident.
I was surprised when I read a recent Huffington Post article that there was a time when acknowledging you have kids - and that they're a priority too - was taboo. Yet, I still recognize that talk of kids and personal life is still internalized by women as not being a smart career move. (Whether bosses actually look at it this way, I don't know.) And so I'm very aware of how I approach these topics at work. Like the article's author, I'm in the camp of trying to change office culture one mom at a time.
On my first day I was asked by a non-reporting manager whether I wanted more kids, (we were talking about kids and how many kids everyone had or wanted to have, so the question was not out of line in my opinion) and without hesitation I told him "a couple more." I was asked to write a short bio about myself, which would be posted on the Intranet in a section introducing new employees. One of the suggested topics was previous employment, (along with family) so I wrote that I have a husband and kids and had worked in local government - but prior to this new position, had been a stay-at-home mom.
As I was getting to know my new co-workers, one of the first conversations I had with a fellow mom was that when she started two years prior to my arrival, she glossed over that she too had been a stay-at-home mom directly before taking her current job. She specifically left out dates when chatting with others about previous work experience and let people assume that there wasn't a three-year gap between her last job and her arrival in the office. She thought it was wonderful that I was so open about having been a stay-at-home mom and that I felt comfortable making that common knowledge in the office.
Maybe some women (or men) are worried about being respected and seen as competant. For me, my view is that I have nothing to hide and nothing to lose. Something I felt passionate about when returning to work was being in an office culture that supported work/life balance. I clearly don't want to work in a place where my boss and other co-workers don't think I'm a team player because I talk about kids. If they know what hobbies I'm passionate about, why shouldn't they also know I'm passionate about my kids? I also feel I can afford to take a chance with my candidness since my career aspirations are different from the woman trying to make partner or be chief resident.
Friday, June 15, 2012
Experience with a Nanny
I had always associated nannies with New York City and the upper class, so I'm still adjusting to the idea of employing a nanny even though I'll otherwise tell anyone who asks that I love having a one. Even the term nanny makes me uncomfortable, as if it connotes over-privilege. It's a class-loaded word that the word babysitter isn't. No kid I knew growing up had a nanny in my middle-class neighborhood. Childcare for my brother and me was a hodgepodge of neighborhood moms running (likely unlicensed) daycares and local teenage babysitters.
Fast forward 30 years and most of my social circle now consists of others my age with young children and it's surely not unusual that some of them have nannies. I wonder if it's the high cost of daycare for my generation that has turned nannies into a viable option for the upper-middle-class and even middle-class. In St. Paul, it's not out of the question to pay over $30,000 a year for a toddler and an infant at a day care center. If you have three kids of daycare age, a nanny is without a doubt cheaper than a daycare center.
Despite the class-conscious insecurities I have with the idea of a nanny, the reality is that our nanny is the best decision we made for my transition back to the working world. I was really excited about the new job and the positive changes it would bring, but the thought of putting my kids in daycare gave me a feeling of dread. Even though I knew Oliver would love all the activities and playmates daycare provides, I worried that all day in a classroom full of kids would overwhelm him. And although I felt Soren would adjust pretty easily given how young he was and that he wouldn't know any better, I felt that babies at his age don't need much more than attention and love. A pricey daycare center just seemed overkill. And then there were the logistics. I would have to get a baby and a toddler up, fed, dressed, packed up, driven to daycare and escorted to their classrooms by myself every day.
Once we made the decision to hire a nanny, I felt at peace with the decision in a way I hadn't with the highly-regarded daycare center we had originally settled on. Even though I know there's nothing wrong with going back to work and wanting to go back to work, I still suffered a mommy guilt that's hard for even the most rational mom to shake. I felt having a nanny care for them during the day would be the least disruption to their schedules and routines. Even though I wasn't going to be with them during the workday, I was comfortable knowing they'd be able to be at home with a consistent caregiver. The fact that we were able to hire a family member made our first experience with a nanny even easier.
Mornings for me are pretty stressful. Chris is often out the door by 6:00 a.m., and I'm on my own. I start off feeding the baby at some ungodly hour, then try to squeeze in a shower while my toddler peaks around the shower curtain, get dressed while still in company of my toddler, who by then is whining for his breakfast, make breakfast for both kids, pack my bags and make my lunch one-handed with the baby straddled across one hip. Every single morning I'm thankful when the nanny walks through our front door. Without being asked, she picks up right where I left off. I could probably count on one hand the number of times I have diapers changed, both kids dressed and fed, Oliver's teeth brushed and the breakfast dishes cleared and table wiped down by the time she arrives, so her presence has become integral to my morning preparations. By the time I leave for work, I've been awake for as long as two and a half hours and that's without needing to build in extra time to get the kids out the door and to daycare. As frenzied and stressful as the previous two plus hours had been, when I walk out the door, I'm relaxed knowing the kids are in good hands. And then I think, "This must be what having a stay-at-home spouse is like!"
There are other perks to having someone at home. Our nanny has driven over to my work to drop off the lunch I forgot on the kitchen counter or pick up the breastmilk I'd left in the office fridge the day before. She's watered our flowers, gone grocery shopping for us and done an extra-thorough tidying up on days she knew we were having guests over.
Having a nanny doesn't just make my life easier, but the experience over the past few months has given me a different perspective on parenting, in that it really is much easier to have as much help as you can get and not have to go it alone. When Chris was traveling and going to school, I spent a lot of long days with Oliver and I felt very alone with the child-rearing. At the time I was thinking I just wanted Chris home more and now that he is, it's wonderful. I just never realized how thankful I'd be for having an additional person be involved in my kids' daily lives. I think what a relief it is to have someone who I can trust in my home with my kids.
Fast forward 30 years and most of my social circle now consists of others my age with young children and it's surely not unusual that some of them have nannies. I wonder if it's the high cost of daycare for my generation that has turned nannies into a viable option for the upper-middle-class and even middle-class. In St. Paul, it's not out of the question to pay over $30,000 a year for a toddler and an infant at a day care center. If you have three kids of daycare age, a nanny is without a doubt cheaper than a daycare center.
Despite the class-conscious insecurities I have with the idea of a nanny, the reality is that our nanny is the best decision we made for my transition back to the working world. I was really excited about the new job and the positive changes it would bring, but the thought of putting my kids in daycare gave me a feeling of dread. Even though I knew Oliver would love all the activities and playmates daycare provides, I worried that all day in a classroom full of kids would overwhelm him. And although I felt Soren would adjust pretty easily given how young he was and that he wouldn't know any better, I felt that babies at his age don't need much more than attention and love. A pricey daycare center just seemed overkill. And then there were the logistics. I would have to get a baby and a toddler up, fed, dressed, packed up, driven to daycare and escorted to their classrooms by myself every day.
Once we made the decision to hire a nanny, I felt at peace with the decision in a way I hadn't with the highly-regarded daycare center we had originally settled on. Even though I know there's nothing wrong with going back to work and wanting to go back to work, I still suffered a mommy guilt that's hard for even the most rational mom to shake. I felt having a nanny care for them during the day would be the least disruption to their schedules and routines. Even though I wasn't going to be with them during the workday, I was comfortable knowing they'd be able to be at home with a consistent caregiver. The fact that we were able to hire a family member made our first experience with a nanny even easier.
Mornings for me are pretty stressful. Chris is often out the door by 6:00 a.m., and I'm on my own. I start off feeding the baby at some ungodly hour, then try to squeeze in a shower while my toddler peaks around the shower curtain, get dressed while still in company of my toddler, who by then is whining for his breakfast, make breakfast for both kids, pack my bags and make my lunch one-handed with the baby straddled across one hip. Every single morning I'm thankful when the nanny walks through our front door. Without being asked, she picks up right where I left off. I could probably count on one hand the number of times I have diapers changed, both kids dressed and fed, Oliver's teeth brushed and the breakfast dishes cleared and table wiped down by the time she arrives, so her presence has become integral to my morning preparations. By the time I leave for work, I've been awake for as long as two and a half hours and that's without needing to build in extra time to get the kids out the door and to daycare. As frenzied and stressful as the previous two plus hours had been, when I walk out the door, I'm relaxed knowing the kids are in good hands. And then I think, "This must be what having a stay-at-home spouse is like!"
There are other perks to having someone at home. Our nanny has driven over to my work to drop off the lunch I forgot on the kitchen counter or pick up the breastmilk I'd left in the office fridge the day before. She's watered our flowers, gone grocery shopping for us and done an extra-thorough tidying up on days she knew we were having guests over.
Having a nanny doesn't just make my life easier, but the experience over the past few months has given me a different perspective on parenting, in that it really is much easier to have as much help as you can get and not have to go it alone. When Chris was traveling and going to school, I spent a lot of long days with Oliver and I felt very alone with the child-rearing. At the time I was thinking I just wanted Chris home more and now that he is, it's wonderful. I just never realized how thankful I'd be for having an additional person be involved in my kids' daily lives. I think what a relief it is to have someone who I can trust in my home with my kids.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Date with Mommy and Daddy
Oliver may not have had both Mom and Dad to himself (away from home at least) since Soren was born. Because of the divide-and-conquer strategy Chris and I employ, Oliver has had time to hang out with just mom or just dad, but I don't think ever both of us at the same time without his little brother along. With Soren's bedtime inching closer and closer to dinnertime, it's nearly impossible now to get out of the house after dinner, and Oliver still has a lot of energy at that time of day. So we finally hired a babysitter for Soren and took Oliver out on the town.
Due to rain, we had to skip a trip to the park, but instead went out for dinner and then for some ice cream at a cute old-time soda fountain that just opened nearby. It was a nice way to spend an evening with a kid who's at the age where he adores his parent and thinks it's the best to sit snuggled between us on the same side of the restaurant booth.
Due to rain, we had to skip a trip to the park, but instead went out for dinner and then for some ice cream at a cute old-time soda fountain that just opened nearby. It was a nice way to spend an evening with a kid who's at the age where he adores his parent and thinks it's the best to sit snuggled between us on the same side of the restaurant booth.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Cute onesies
A friend was expecting a baby and somewhere in the talk about what preparations they'd made so far for the baby's arrival, such as setting up the nursery and buying clothes, he made a comment about how silly he thought onesies with sayings printed on the front were.
"But that's one of the best parts about babies!" I cried. "You can dress them in whatever kind of cutesie clothes you want."
He wasn't buying it. But I think there are a lot of parents-to-be who aren't into "cutesy" but suddenly melt the first time they dress their baby in an "I love my Mommy" or "I love my Daddy" onesie. I never thought I'd be into dressing my kids in cute clothes since I'm not into fashion and don't like clothes shopping. And when you have boys, no one ever says how cute or fun boys clothes are. But surpringly I'm into the clothes and I like shopping for my kids. And I quickly became a sucker for onesies with cute sayings on them.
I loved dressing both boys in the "I'm the boss (when Mommy's not around)" onesie, particularly when Chris was going to be taking care of them by himself. Given that Chris is not into the clothes, he probably never even noticed what was printed on the front. So he probably also never noticed me dress them in the "Handsome like Daddy" onesie. I always liked that one, because I thought it was true!
When Oliver was still a newborn and I was struggling with sleep deprivation from rocking a fussy baby at all hours of the night, my friend's daughter's "All I want for Christmas is a Silent Night" onesie gave me a good laugh. I dreamed about a silent night for the rest of December when a few days after Christmas, Oliver started sleeping through the night.
For Oliver's first birthday party, we dressed him in his "Still living at home" onesie.
The "Party tonight, my crib, 3:00 a.m. (BYOB)" onesie has always been one of my favorites. Sometimes you stumble into your kid's room at 3:00 a.m., because you heard him carrying on and when he sees you, he squeals as if he's ready to party. And then at the playdate you schedule for him so he can hang out with his baby friends at a more reasonable hour, he whines and cries because he wants a nap. Really, maybe I should have scheduled the playdate for 3:00 a.m.
Then there's the "Grandma's Princess" onesie. Normally I hate anything pink and princess, but I gotta love this one since my mother-in-law bought it when I was pregnant with Oliver because she was really hoping for a girl. And yes, both boys have worn it.
But then one day Oliver came back from an overnight visit with his grandparents wearing a new t-shirt that read, "My Grandparents don't spoil me. They're just very accommodating." Point taken.
But my favorite onesie of all time was sent to me by one of my college roommates right after Oliver was born. It read, "Mommy's Little Feminist." She clearly knows me well. I dressed Oliver in that size six months onesie for as long as I could and would buy the same one in larger sizes if I could.
Oliver has long since grown out of onesies, but at least toddlers are still young enough to not be embarrassed about wearing t-shirts that say "Mommy's Little Valentine" or "My dad rocks." And now that I have two boys, I've discovered something else I never thought I'd be into, the matching outfits.
"But that's one of the best parts about babies!" I cried. "You can dress them in whatever kind of cutesie clothes you want."
He wasn't buying it. But I think there are a lot of parents-to-be who aren't into "cutesy" but suddenly melt the first time they dress their baby in an "I love my Mommy" or "I love my Daddy" onesie. I never thought I'd be into dressing my kids in cute clothes since I'm not into fashion and don't like clothes shopping. And when you have boys, no one ever says how cute or fun boys clothes are. But surpringly I'm into the clothes and I like shopping for my kids. And I quickly became a sucker for onesies with cute sayings on them.
I loved dressing both boys in the "I'm the boss (when Mommy's not around)" onesie, particularly when Chris was going to be taking care of them by himself. Given that Chris is not into the clothes, he probably never even noticed what was printed on the front. So he probably also never noticed me dress them in the "Handsome like Daddy" onesie. I always liked that one, because I thought it was true!
When Oliver was still a newborn and I was struggling with sleep deprivation from rocking a fussy baby at all hours of the night, my friend's daughter's "All I want for Christmas is a Silent Night" onesie gave me a good laugh. I dreamed about a silent night for the rest of December when a few days after Christmas, Oliver started sleeping through the night.
For Oliver's first birthday party, we dressed him in his "Still living at home" onesie.
The "Party tonight, my crib, 3:00 a.m. (BYOB)" onesie has always been one of my favorites. Sometimes you stumble into your kid's room at 3:00 a.m., because you heard him carrying on and when he sees you, he squeals as if he's ready to party. And then at the playdate you schedule for him so he can hang out with his baby friends at a more reasonable hour, he whines and cries because he wants a nap. Really, maybe I should have scheduled the playdate for 3:00 a.m.
Then there's the "Grandma's Princess" onesie. Normally I hate anything pink and princess, but I gotta love this one since my mother-in-law bought it when I was pregnant with Oliver because she was really hoping for a girl. And yes, both boys have worn it.
But then one day Oliver came back from an overnight visit with his grandparents wearing a new t-shirt that read, "My Grandparents don't spoil me. They're just very accommodating." Point taken.
But my favorite onesie of all time was sent to me by one of my college roommates right after Oliver was born. It read, "Mommy's Little Feminist." She clearly knows me well. I dressed Oliver in that size six months onesie for as long as I could and would buy the same one in larger sizes if I could.
Oliver has long since grown out of onesies, but at least toddlers are still young enough to not be embarrassed about wearing t-shirts that say "Mommy's Little Valentine" or "My dad rocks." And now that I have two boys, I've discovered something else I never thought I'd be into, the matching outfits.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Soren update: 8 months
I heard a beautiful sound two weeks ago - the first sounds of Soren's voice. Sure we've heard him coo and, laugh, especially, but one evening he suddenly started making consonant sounds like da-da and ga-ga. His "talk" went from cooing to baby babble. I just love listening to him and he laughs when I imitate him.
Soren still laughs a lot and laughs hard. Nothing sends him more into hysterics than Oliver and his dad. Soren simply lights up when he sees his brother and this interaction is my favorite part about having more than one child and it warms my heart every time.
Soren is still working on getting up onto his hands and knees, which he can do without pushing his feet against something, but he doesn't know yet what to do when he gets into the crawling position. Even though he's not crawling yet, he still gets around. We are at the point that if we place him on the floor and step away, if we come back into the room, he's not in the same spot he was before. His moves include pushing himself backwards on his stomach, the "reach and roll" or scooting in circles or forward or backward on his bottom.
I'm almost afraid of writing this for fear of jinxing ourselves, but I just might declare that Soren has a nap schedule. A little after seven months he finally seemed to be settling into a morning nap somewhere between 7:30 a.m. and 8:30 a.m., lasting an hour or an hour and a half, (on a good day) and an afternoon nap somewhere between 11:30 a.m. and 12:30 p.m., lasting about two hours. If we can get this schedule to stick, we've cleared a major nap hurdle and can enjoy a routine until he drops from two naps to one. The timing of the first nap means that we can't leave the house before 10:00 a.m., but we otherwise can't believe our luck that his second nap coincides with Oliver's. I'd forgotten what it was like to have some dedicated quiet time for myself during nap time.
Along with the schedule of the first and second nap, I've decided around seven months to let go of the idea of a third nap. It always seemed like he needed one around 4:00 p.m., especially when his second nap was short-lived and ended early, but whether he actually took one was hit or miss. Because he's generally an easy-going baby who can fight through a missed nap without a meltdown, we've decided to just let this one go. If we're home and it seems like he really needs to nap, sure, we'll put him down, but we've stopped planning our day around this nap. The downside is that we have to put him to bed even earlier, which means that once we come inside to get dinner ready, we're in for the evening. Dinner is between 5:00 p.m. and 5:30 p.m. and then we're getting Soren ready for bed as soon as we finish eating and he's often asleep by 6:15 p.m., if not earlier.
You'd think that all the positive transformations in Soren's sleep schedule would mean more rest for me, but I've been so tired for quite awhile now. My lack of sleep is nothing like what I experienced when Soren was sleeping in hour or hour-and-a-half chunks, because I was so tired at that point in his life that I had painful headaches for days at a time. But just when I didn't think I could go on any longer, I'd crash and sleep long enough to make me feel human again. My problem now is that although Soren is technically sleeping through the night, the latest we can get him to consistently sleep is 5:15 a.m. or 5:30 a.m. Sometimes he's up an hour earlier than that. Although another round of sleep training nixed earlier middle-of-the-night wakings, we haven't been able to make too much progress in extending his sleep in the morning. Anyway, if it's 5:15 a.m. by the time I get Soren back down and can't fall back asleep myself and then have to get up for work at 6:15 a.m., well, too many mornings of starting my day at 4:45 a.m. or 5:00 a.m. has left me exhausted.
The good news is that despite his early wakings, Soren is still such a happy, lovable baby. He smiles at anyone who even glances his way. He's doing this really cute move right now where he'll smile at someone, the person will smile back and Soren acts bashful and tucks his head into me. It's not just adults he's into either. He notices other babies and make an attempt to interact with them in a way he doesn't with older kids. His version of interacting, though, is "talking" or squealing at them or trying to grab their faces.
I'm still amazed at how well Soren does with solid foods. He's rarely not in the mood to eat and gives pretty much anything a try, even foods I'm not sure he can figure out how to eat, like spaghetti. But he manages to get something in his mouth every time. We still get excited to see how much he's eaten, only to discover when we take him out of his booster seat that 90% of what he was served ended up in his lap. There are many dinners when he goes straight to the bathtub.
The poor guy is prone to constipation, which means we've been pushing fruit lately, but we're not sure what to do about it. I'm not sure if the constipation is because he's taking in more formula than Oliver did at this age, or if he's just more prone to it, or both. We've also been trying to offer more water and I'm encouraging myself to keep sticking with pumping.
Another bi-product of the solids is chapped skin! His chin, cheeks and a spot on his neck have gotten so chapped from all the moisture sitting on his skin from eating or drooling. I got a special skin cream for him, which was helping, if only we could have kept it permanently applied. Eventually we got to smearing pure Vaseline on his face, particularly right before he ate, because then we could wipe his face without making the chafing worse. Even with the Vaseline it looked like we were loosing the battle and I came super close to making a visit to the running store a few blocks from my house to buy a stick of Body Glide, which runners use to prevent chafing. I remember my brother, who runs marathons, saying that it lasts longer than Vaseline. Maybe his skin finally toughened up or he's drooling less, (he's definitely past the spit-up stage!) because before I resorted to smearing Body Glide on my baby, we seem to suddenly have the chafing under control.
Overall, Soren is simply a happy and lovable baby. It actually makes me sad to think that he's going to go through the toddler teething and tantrum stage. I remember Oliver at this age when he was the happiest baby in the world to be his mommy's sidekick when I'd carry him around on one hip. He was definitely all about me and I see that in Soren now. It's not surprising that I couldn't believe Oliver could ever throw a tantrum since he was my first, but even though I know what's coming, I still can't imagine it with Soren. Yet, I know that stage will come and there's nothing I can do to soak up any more of Soren's lovableness than I already have.
Soren still laughs a lot and laughs hard. Nothing sends him more into hysterics than Oliver and his dad. Soren simply lights up when he sees his brother and this interaction is my favorite part about having more than one child and it warms my heart every time.
Soren is still working on getting up onto his hands and knees, which he can do without pushing his feet against something, but he doesn't know yet what to do when he gets into the crawling position. Even though he's not crawling yet, he still gets around. We are at the point that if we place him on the floor and step away, if we come back into the room, he's not in the same spot he was before. His moves include pushing himself backwards on his stomach, the "reach and roll" or scooting in circles or forward or backward on his bottom.
I'm almost afraid of writing this for fear of jinxing ourselves, but I just might declare that Soren has a nap schedule. A little after seven months he finally seemed to be settling into a morning nap somewhere between 7:30 a.m. and 8:30 a.m., lasting an hour or an hour and a half, (on a good day) and an afternoon nap somewhere between 11:30 a.m. and 12:30 p.m., lasting about two hours. If we can get this schedule to stick, we've cleared a major nap hurdle and can enjoy a routine until he drops from two naps to one. The timing of the first nap means that we can't leave the house before 10:00 a.m., but we otherwise can't believe our luck that his second nap coincides with Oliver's. I'd forgotten what it was like to have some dedicated quiet time for myself during nap time.
Along with the schedule of the first and second nap, I've decided around seven months to let go of the idea of a third nap. It always seemed like he needed one around 4:00 p.m., especially when his second nap was short-lived and ended early, but whether he actually took one was hit or miss. Because he's generally an easy-going baby who can fight through a missed nap without a meltdown, we've decided to just let this one go. If we're home and it seems like he really needs to nap, sure, we'll put him down, but we've stopped planning our day around this nap. The downside is that we have to put him to bed even earlier, which means that once we come inside to get dinner ready, we're in for the evening. Dinner is between 5:00 p.m. and 5:30 p.m. and then we're getting Soren ready for bed as soon as we finish eating and he's often asleep by 6:15 p.m., if not earlier.
You'd think that all the positive transformations in Soren's sleep schedule would mean more rest for me, but I've been so tired for quite awhile now. My lack of sleep is nothing like what I experienced when Soren was sleeping in hour or hour-and-a-half chunks, because I was so tired at that point in his life that I had painful headaches for days at a time. But just when I didn't think I could go on any longer, I'd crash and sleep long enough to make me feel human again. My problem now is that although Soren is technically sleeping through the night, the latest we can get him to consistently sleep is 5:15 a.m. or 5:30 a.m. Sometimes he's up an hour earlier than that. Although another round of sleep training nixed earlier middle-of-the-night wakings, we haven't been able to make too much progress in extending his sleep in the morning. Anyway, if it's 5:15 a.m. by the time I get Soren back down and can't fall back asleep myself and then have to get up for work at 6:15 a.m., well, too many mornings of starting my day at 4:45 a.m. or 5:00 a.m. has left me exhausted.
The good news is that despite his early wakings, Soren is still such a happy, lovable baby. He smiles at anyone who even glances his way. He's doing this really cute move right now where he'll smile at someone, the person will smile back and Soren acts bashful and tucks his head into me. It's not just adults he's into either. He notices other babies and make an attempt to interact with them in a way he doesn't with older kids. His version of interacting, though, is "talking" or squealing at them or trying to grab their faces.
I'm still amazed at how well Soren does with solid foods. He's rarely not in the mood to eat and gives pretty much anything a try, even foods I'm not sure he can figure out how to eat, like spaghetti. But he manages to get something in his mouth every time. We still get excited to see how much he's eaten, only to discover when we take him out of his booster seat that 90% of what he was served ended up in his lap. There are many dinners when he goes straight to the bathtub.
The poor guy is prone to constipation, which means we've been pushing fruit lately, but we're not sure what to do about it. I'm not sure if the constipation is because he's taking in more formula than Oliver did at this age, or if he's just more prone to it, or both. We've also been trying to offer more water and I'm encouraging myself to keep sticking with pumping.
Another bi-product of the solids is chapped skin! His chin, cheeks and a spot on his neck have gotten so chapped from all the moisture sitting on his skin from eating or drooling. I got a special skin cream for him, which was helping, if only we could have kept it permanently applied. Eventually we got to smearing pure Vaseline on his face, particularly right before he ate, because then we could wipe his face without making the chafing worse. Even with the Vaseline it looked like we were loosing the battle and I came super close to making a visit to the running store a few blocks from my house to buy a stick of Body Glide, which runners use to prevent chafing. I remember my brother, who runs marathons, saying that it lasts longer than Vaseline. Maybe his skin finally toughened up or he's drooling less, (he's definitely past the spit-up stage!) because before I resorted to smearing Body Glide on my baby, we seem to suddenly have the chafing under control.
Overall, Soren is simply a happy and lovable baby. It actually makes me sad to think that he's going to go through the toddler teething and tantrum stage. I remember Oliver at this age when he was the happiest baby in the world to be his mommy's sidekick when I'd carry him around on one hip. He was definitely all about me and I see that in Soren now. It's not surprising that I couldn't believe Oliver could ever throw a tantrum since he was my first, but even though I know what's coming, I still can't imagine it with Soren. Yet, I know that stage will come and there's nothing I can do to soak up any more of Soren's lovableness than I already have.
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