Weaned

Soren is weaned, at least I think.  A few weeks ago, he refused to nurse one morning, but happily took a bottle.  I secretly hoped he was self-weaning, because then I wouldn't have to make the decision of when and could feel less guilty when it happened.  His nursing strike turned out to be an anomaly though. 

I didn't plan to wean Soren this early, but I think my decision to stop pumping at work about three weeks ago ended up causing my supply to drop and Soren realized he could get a guaranteed supply from the bottle.  I simply had grown tired of pumping.  It didn't just take time from my work day, but because of the timing of my pumping sessions, along with meetings and lunch, it was rare that I even had an hour-long period to devote to anything on my task list.  I remembered back to when Oliver was Soren's age and how my body adjusted along with Oliver's feeding schedule.  Because I formula-fed more and more often in Oliver's last months of breastfeeding, the weaning process was gradual and quite easy on my body. I kept waiting for that natural slow-down this time around until I realized that when you're pumping, you could just keep going.  Chris and I are taking a trip in mid-September - without the kids - and I made the decision awhile back that it would make sense to wean Soren before the trip.  I was not running around New York City with a manual pump stuffed in my handbag.  I decided that ditching pumping had to be the first step in the weaning process, because I felt like my body was never going to slow down on its own. 

I think some women who work outside the home pull off breastfeeding just on nights and weekends, but my body never fell into a rhythm. My tactic was to hold off pumping as long as I could and then only pump minimally, and the first few days went surprisingly well as I quickly stopped pumping during the day.  But then life happened and I missed a feeding here and there because of going out or Soren skipping a feeding for one reason or another.  I started to hit this cycle of missing a feeding, becoming engorged, pumping for relief, and then experiencing what appeared to be a lessened supply based on Soren's dissatisfied reaction.  I didn't want to counteract the drop by pumping a lot to stimulate supply, because I was pumping at odd times and was worried I'd start producing milk at all these wrong times (i.e. when Soren was sleeping) and I'd end up back in a cycle of needing to pump on a schedule (just what I'd been trying to get away from) or unpredictably becoming engorged. 

This weekend Soren refused to nurse when I got him up in the morning.  I had wanted to hold onto "nights and weekend" breastsfeeding because it's a lot easier than trying to make a bottle for an impatient baby who hasn't eaten all night.  But it didn't bother me to have to make a bottle and Soren enjoyed it just the same.  For the rest of the weekend, I'd offer him the breast first, but he'd maybe take a few sips, before sucking down a bottle.  And with that I decided we had reached the beginning of the end of breastfeeding. 

I still don't consider myself completely finished with breastfeeding though.  My pump is still stashed in my desk at work and another is yet to be packed away at home, just in case.  And my body is still figuring out that it can finally shut off the spigots.  I fell shy of my goal by about three months, but as I told a friend who told me she gave up breastfeeding after four months, once her baby passes the year mark, whether she had fed him breastmilk or formula will seem like a distant memory. 

I'm still wearing nursing bras and yet I can hardly believe that I've left that phase behind with a second child.  I'll never forget how in awe I was to witness an example of natural instinct when I nursed Soren for the first time.  He was not even an hour old and I placed him at my breast and he opened his mouth and flung it forward right onto my nipple with such precision as if he'd done that whole suckling thing a thousand times before.  I'd taken a class on breastfeeding and had read books, yet he knew just what to do straight from the womb. 

I took this picture of Soren (at 7.5 months) because I always liked the sight of him curled up in my lap, especially after he had eaten and was at his happiest.  I'll miss it when he's no longer small enough to fit on my lap.

Time Off

I had six hours off today.  Six hours by myself.  No husband, no kids.  The house to myself.  Quiet and solitude are rare in my life right now.  Actually, this might be the longest I've had to myself since Soren was born over nine months ago.

As soon as my in-laws volunteered to take the kids for an afternoon while Chris was away at the cabin for the weekend, my mind raced as it tried to organize and prioritize all the things I could do with my time off.  That's the problem when you're a parent. You have so little time to yourself that whatever you get, you either feel like you have to best utilize every last minute or you're so overwhelmed by the notion that you can do whatever you want to do that you can't even decide what to do with yourself. 

My mental list of how I wanted to spend my free time included cleaning, folding, ironing AND put away the laundry, gardening, getting a start on cooking for the August meal exchange, baking, going for a walk, grocery shopping, hanging out with friends and checking out books for the kids from the library.  Then when Soren woke up screaming at 3:30 a.m. last night and I did what I haven't done in a long time, fed him, I thought about scrapping my whole list and just taking a nap and loaf around the house. 

By the end of my time off, I hadn't taken a nap, had loafed a little and had only accomplished a fraction of my list.  Despite an order from a friend not to clean, I did clean a little.  And I ran errands.  I just had to get something concrete accomplished or I would have driven myself nuts.  I took my day at a slow pace though, because a few years into this parenting, I'm trying to learn to enjoy downtime for what it is - downtime - and forget about having something to show for it. 

Six hours went by way too quickly.  I should really do this more often.

9 Month Wellness Visit

A few weeks ago I was sitting on a picnic blanket with Soren at the park and a friend asked me to hold his baby while he chased his older daughter down who'd wandered to other end of the park.  I plopped the baby, who was noticeably larger than Soren, down in front of him so they could look at each other, but the other baby toppled over when I stopped supporting him.  I tried righting him again, but he slumped over.  Then I remembered that even though he looked gigantic next to Soren, he was only five months old and couldn't sit up on his own yet. 

I wasn't surprised, then, when I took Soren in for his nine-month wellness visit this week that the scale topped out at 16 pounds, two ounces.  I had seemed to notice that Soren's been staying in each size of clothing a little longer than Oliver had.  No big deal.  I don't expect to produce big babies. And, yet, despite my stature, I was taken aback when his weight put him in the third percentile and his height (26 3/8 inches) in the sixth percentile.  I immediately thought of all the teasing I endured as a kid and the stupid and sometimes down-right mean comments I still receive from people because of my height.  I don't remember ever being this worried about Oliver, even though he's going to be small too, so I don't know why I became fixated on these purticular measurements.  Eventually I looked up Oliver's measurements from his nine-month wellness visit and the kids aren't that far apart from each other, so I don't know why I was obsessing so much over a bunch of numbers that are going to fluctuate from visit to visit.

While the nurse who took his measurements expressed concern about Soren's weight, the doctor had zero concern and didn't even bring it up until I did.  The bottom line, according to the doctor, is Soren is proportional, and having met Chris and me, Soren's percentiles match what he'd expect.  But most important, Soren is meeting all his developmental milestones.  He's doing things like moving around, starting to pull himself up, babbling, smiling, laughing, showing attachment to his parents, and getting into everything.  And as Chris commented, tall or short, Soren's the cutest baby in the world.

My boss has been trying for months to fill an open position in our division.  I didn't think it would be difficult to find a qualified candidate, especially when nearly 150 people applied.  Yet my boss estimated only a quarter of those were even moderately qualified.  It seemed crazy to me that she was having so much trouble finding the right person until I started my own hiring process for a nanny.  If what I saw in the search process for a nanny reflects what the business world is seeing, I now understand what it means to have quantity over quality. 

When Chris and I learned that our nanny would be moving away at the end of the summer, we posted a nanny position on care.com. Over an eight-day period, we received a surprising 45 responses.  That sounds promising, except that many we couldn't consider because they lived too far away, were asking more than we could afford or were only available for the summer (when I specifically stated that we needed a commitment of at least a year).  Then there were those who reminded me that the advice my parents and career counselors had drilled into me about first impressions and professionalism was dead on. 

What's your first impression of either of these women?

Hello my name is Sandra i was wondering if you still needed someone to care for your kids or kid.? I can work Monday - Friday.I have a nine month old i would have to care for on the weekends so i am sorry.I can also work hours from 5am to 8pm.

At least she gave punctuation a try.  The next one blew me away.

i love kids i have been babysitting since i was 10 years old i don't smoke or drink i graduated from high school i have transportation I'm available at any time I'm very responsible i will keep them safe and engage them in activities i know how to cook clean and do laundry

Seriously, folks.  You're applying for a job!  I know applying over e-mail may feel informal, but how difficult is it to compose a simple introductory e-mail?  Since I had written in the job posting that we were looking for someone "who speaks well, will be a good role model to our kids and is interested in helping them develop their social, emotional, and intellectual skills," these two were rejected before I even looked at their profiles. 

Then there were the people who rubbed me the wrong way.  The woman who's one-line e-mail started off with, "I hope this doesn't sound rude," and went on to ask about pay (our pay range was listed on the job description) and benefits.  I was taken aback by how many people offered their unsolicited views on the differences between girls and boys.  They clearly didn't know they were talking to a Women's Studies major with strong opinions (contrary to theirs) on the subject.  The question that really got me though was the prospect who inquired about whether our home is "kid-friendly, neat and organized."  I'm already self-conscious enough about the state of our house and a nanny whose intro question is that would make me feel constantly judged. 

Then there were those we didn't consider for a reason I never fathomed before the search process would be an issue and that was the feeling that, for lack of better words, the nanny-employer relationship would be too unequal.  There were a number of people who clearly needed the money, and while any parent is leery of hiring someone who may not being looking to be a nanny for the pure love of working with children, I realized I was not comfortable with a situation where my nanny would feel stuck with us because she has no other options.  I'd feel like we were taking advantage of her and I don't want to be the dead end for someone's career.  And I think it's healthy for our nanny to want to and be able to move on if life circumstances, career aspirations or job fulfillment change.  And what do you make of a situation where a currently unemployed candidate tells you that she loves kids and has always wanted kids, but due to the economy, she and her partner are unable to afford having a family?  I felt like I was guilty of classism whether I considered any of these candidates or not. 

Forty-five applications and all the above-mentioned considerations later, we were left with three people we wanted to interview.  Only two we were really excited about.  We weren't 100% sure about the third, but her profile picture reminded me so much of my friend Dawn, who is a sweet and loving mom.  She had tapped into my emotional side without even trying, but after about two minutes of conversation, I determined that she was quite under qualified.  (And she looked nothing like her picture or Dawn in real life.) 

All it takes is one and we're really excited about the nanny we hired.  But when I go to work, I'll enjoy being in a position where I'm not the hiring manager.

How Having Kids Has Affected My Life for the Better

My brother asked me, "How has having kids affected your life for the better?" 

I instantly knew in my heart all the ways Oliver and Soren have affected my life for the better, but how do I describe the miraculous feeling knowing that there are two brand new human beings on this earth because of Chris and me?  How do I explain the love I have for them when I can't even count all the ways I love them?  How do I prove that their entrance into my life completed me when I didn't know beforehand that they, not just any kids, had been lacking. 

I won't sugar coat parenting - it's the hardest thing I have ever, EVER done.  There are days when I question my sanity and wonder how something I could have wanted so much could be so difficult.  It's sobering to accept that everything isn't entirely about me anymore.  I have a (sometimes overwhelming) responsibility for the survival and well-being of another human being who is completely dependent upon me. 

Parenting is humbling and while being humbled is an uncomfortable experience, it's one I believe I will continue to learn from for the rest of my life.  A simple interaction with one of my kids can open an emotional wound from childhood, magnify an insecurity I never realized I had or leave me in awe of the incredible life I have.  My children cause me reflect on my upbringing, my family and our future and who I am as a wife, mother, daughter and friend with a new perspective.  I'm continuously evaluating myself against the parent I want to be and the role model I am for my children.  I thought I had learned about life.  I thought that traveling, being an exchange student, enduring break-ups and coping the death of my mother  had taught me about myself, about humanity.  And then I became a parent. 

Becoming a parent helped me know my own parents in a way I would have otherwise never fully understood or appreciated.  I know why they had the rules they had, why they pushed us, why they made mistakes.  I know how proud I made them and how batty I also drove them sometimes.  Only now do I know how much they love/d me. 

Having children has affected my understanding of family. After leaving my childhood home and living on my own as an adult, I never imagined that I'd experience that sense of family again. Yet coming home to Chris, Soren and Oliver is where I feel happiest, safest and most comfortable. My kids give me that much more to live for and I want to do the best for myself and for them.

Soren update: 9 months

We have a crawler!  For weeks I've been saying I thought Soren was going to start crawling "any day now," but until last week, the most he'd do was get up on his hands and knees, lurched forward and look like he was going to crawl before finally taking a slow glide back onto his belly. 

He's still getting used to crawling and resorts to his "carpet swimming," either out of frustration or laziness, because he knows I'll eventually pick him up.  While he's still not fast yet, Oliver watch out!  Soren can already get into his toys.  And thus our pretty easy lives hanging around with a stationary baby our over.  We suddenly need to re-childproof the house and mediate the cries of "No, that's mine!" 

We now have a new set of challenges in regards to toys and sharing.  Oliver regards all the toys as his, because, at one point they were only his.  So while we're trying to teach him what "baby toys" Soren is allowed to play with and what is not safe for him to play with, we're also trying to impart upon him that the toys belong to all of us, which I know are difficult concepts for a not-quite-three-year-old to grasp, but we have to start somewhere.  Luckily Soren is still too young to know he should be offended when a toy he's innocently playing with - one that Oliver had zero interest in until Soren discovered it - is violently ripped out of his chubby little hands, because his ultra-brief attention span allows him to forget about the toy and become distracted by something else.  But we're still teaching Oliver to offer Soren something baby-friendly to play with and gently take the other object from him and are reinforcing the concept of taking turns. 

These brothers still have fun with each other.  Soren, as always, loves watching Oliver and laughing.  Oliver in turn gives him hugs and kisses and enjoys pushing him on the swing.  Some day soon they'll be able to run around together. 

We've had some hot, hot weather the past few weeks, and have already made a couple of trips to a nearby splash pad, where Soren took his first dip in the pool.  Well, dip is an overstatement.  I stood at the edge of the zero-entry kiddie pool and dipped his toes in the water and he screamed.  I set him down in the water, which didn't come higher than his ankles and he clung to my legs and continued to wail.  I tried to tell him there was nothing to be afraid of because it's just like the bathtub.  But, oh yeah, he doesn't like the bathtub either.  Chris finally had better luck getting him to enjoy the water, but we never made him get more than his feet wet.

This was another crazy month for sleep, but the good news is that we finally have a nap schedule established.  Woohoo!  We can make plans again!  Months four through eight were really tough because Soren couldn't sleep on the go anymore, but didn't have a predictable schedule and took three to four naps a day.  Around eight months he seemed to be settling on taking a second nap at the same time Oliver does and by the end of this month was taking a predictable 8:15 a.m. nap.  I've even been trying to put him down even earlier in the hopes that he'll get up earlier so we can maximize the time in the morning to get out and do something. 

His nighttime sleep, though, wasn't making quite the same progress and Soren never broke the pattern of waking up really early.  I endured weeks of waking up no later than 5:15 a.m. because I was too tired to try sleeping training with Soren, as weird as that sounds.  But when I sensed that he was starting to manipulate us, I knew I had to muster the energy to get his sleep back on track.  Soren was taking longer and longer to get down to sleep because he wanted to be rocked and sung to and then he'd scream as soon as you put him down in his crib.  Or, he wouldn't cry at first and I thought I'd succeeded in getting him to sleep, and the instant I left the room, he'd wail.  We bought a fan to help air circulate in his stuffy room and to provide white noise because he seems to be a light sleeper.  And we did yet another round of sleeping training.  He doesn't need to be rocked or sung to anymore, (a little sad, even though I enjoy being able to get him down quickly) and actually arches his back as if he's trying to get out of my arms into his comfy crib where he knows he gets to sleep. We had a week and a half where he slept until 6:00 a.m. or 6:30 a.m., although we're suddenly back to pre-6:00 a.m. wake-up times.  Sigh...

I've noticed that Soren's pincer grasp is starting to develop, where he can pick up small objects between his thumb and forefinger.  We went out to eat a few weeks ago and he happily (and quietly!) sat in the high chair and ate Cheerios while getting surprisingly few on the floor.  I'm looking forward to this next stage in development because it opens up a multitude of food choices for him.  Not everything will have to be cut in the shape of sticks or be served in large clumps. 

Soren won't be eating apples or corn on the cob anytime soon though since he has yet to sprout any teeth.  I got a good look at his gums and felt with my finger and there were no signs that I could tell that a tooth is ready to emerge. 

We served Soren an unfortunate food choice the night he ended up throwing up.  We woke up in the middle of the night to screaming and even though it was during a period where he was waking a lot during the night, it actually wasn't one his usual times, so we sensed something was wrong. We discovered he'd thrown up strawberries everywhere.  I thought for a minute about how I was going to clean him off when I realized that even though it was 2:00 a.m., Soren need a bath.  The poor little guy threw up two more times after his bath (which he screamed through), but was finally able to eat and then, exhausted, fell back asleep in my arms.  I headed down to the basement with his red-stained sleep sack, burp cloths, sheets and pajamas and did a load of wash at 3:00 a.m.   

Soren has always been an incredibly happy and social baby, but I marvel in how much he lights up when Chris gets home.  He now tries to squirm out of my arms when he sees Daddy walk through the door.  He was so excited one day that he planted a hand in my face as he tried to shove himself away from me and towards Chris.  I guess he doesn't have eyes just for Mommy anymore. In fact, the only two "words" he says are "Ma-ma" and "Da-da."  However, he only says "mama" when he's upset and "dada" when he's happy!

A New Nanny Search

The process of finding a new nanny felt like a cross between Internet dating and the HGTV show House Hunters.  There was the sifting through profile after profile of prospective nannies and trying to judge from a tiny picture whether someone looked nice.  There was the inundation of replies from those who were so qualified they make my parenting ability look pale to those who didn't know how to capitalize words or use punctuation. (Those who know me know I'll ax anyone with bad grammar from my consideration list).  We choose three to interview and right after the last prospect left, Chris and I sat on the lawn as the kids played around us and discussed who we should choose.  Just like on the show House Hunters, we asked ourselves the question, "Will it be house nanny #1, #2 or #3?"  All that was missing for our own reality TV show was the cameras. 

We ended up on the search because our current nanny is moving away at the end of the summer.  She's moving back to Georgia, along with her husband, who is Chris's cousin, so the entire family will be sad to see them go.  Chris is bummed out his cousin is moving, but I really feel the worst for Oliver who talks about Ashley more than anyone other than his parents.  He's old enough to have memories of her, but not old enough to understand what it means to move away. 

That's the part about daycare, though, you have to accept that people will come in and then out of your children's lives.  Luckily, we have a woman who is going to arrive in their lives who I think they'll really like.  She loves doing arts and crafts projects will kids, loves to cook and has offered to teach Oliver and Soren her native Portuguese.  I was left with a good feeling that she has the energy, creativity and background to do the what I think is the most difficult job next to being a parent.