Well, here we are at the end of March. My goodness. Time really does fly!
--Michaela is cooing like crazy! We have been Skype-ing with the family a lot. They all think she's adorable (and rightly so). Her little personality is really starting to come out.
--I got to see my dad interact with Michaela yesterday. He loves her so much. It really warms my heart.
--I think we're going to see if my mom would be willing to watch Michaela one day a week. It would help us out tremendously. I think she'd like to in theory, but Michaela is getting heavy and it's a little hard on my mom physically.
--Mike and I are doing okay. We had a doozy of a fight last week but are back to talking to each other after three days of silence. You might think it'd be hard to give someone the silent treatment for so long when you live together and both work at home, but we are very stubborn people.
--I've started training for a 5k. Have I mentioned that here? I'm not one to run, but so far, it's going okay. A friend is doing it with me and we are enjoying it. Or I am, at least.
--I am feeling less resentful of pumping. It depends on the day, of course. But Michaela is only 2 weeks away from being 4 months, and I figure that means I'm 1/3 of the way to my goal.
--We're talking about implementing a serious budget starting in April. I'd like to go back to saving, if only so we can think about moving to the suburbs where Michaela would be able to be friends with kids who speak English, to have a yard, to go to a good school, etc. Funny how things change when you have a kid.
--Michaela is sleeping pretty well. She's not sleeping through the night every night, but she is going for long stretches pretty regularly. Last night, she slept 12 hours (very unlike her), though I had to get up twice to pump. Still, I'll take it!
I constantly think of things I want to write about, but then I don't get to it and when I sit down to write updates like these, I can't think of half the things I wanted to write. I'll have to start jotting down notes to myself.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Sandwich
I've had a lot of serious stuff on my mind, especially today. My brother called me today saying he'd gotten a call from my mom that was dad was feeling really unwell. My dad is a dynamo, always is full of energy, even at 62. Apparently he was out at a friend's house when he started feeling really dizzy and like he was going to pass out. He sat down, drank some water, had some fruit, but continued to feel unwell. He made it back home and called my mom, who sent my brother to help in case my dad needed to be carried.
(Side note: my parents don't live together. They're still married, but they live apart. Two houses, about 1.5 miles from each other.)
My brother checked on my dad, who went to lay down, and then called me. I only live about a mile (probably less, actually) from my dad, so I went over. I didn't know how long I'd be there, or if my mom would come (because she is strange, and because even if she did come, she doesn't drive on the freeway and the circuitous route she takes can mean a half hour to get to my dad's house, and because she doesn't have a cell phone, so I can't reach her if she's not home), so I brought a book. I talked to my dad, found out what happened, told him I'd stick around to check on him. Got out my book, read for a few minutes before my mom showed up. She sent me back home to get my blood pressure cuff. My dad has high blood pressure and is on meds, so one of our thoughts was that maybe he had a sudden drop in blood pressure (or blood sugar, though he's not a diabetic as far as we know). His blood pressure was high, which was worrisome to me since he is on meds. He was cold, he was lethargic, and he seemed to be having a hard time paying attention. We let him rest some more and checked on him and his blood pressure again. It was better, but still high.
I suggested to him, and to my mom, that we take him to the doctor. He has health insurance, so there's no reason not to go. Except that he's a man and hates going to the doctor. He said no. My mom thought he should go, but she asked him if he wanted to and he declined. After a little bit of that, I made an executive decision that he really needed to go. I called the nurse line and talked to a nurse who asked me questions and then asked to talk to my dad. If I hadn't had the nurse on the phone already, he never would have agreed to talk to a nurse, but I just handed my dad the phone and said, "here, the nurse wants to ask you some questions." The first thing out of my dad's mouth was, "I feel fine!" I left the room so my dad would feel more comfortable giving honest answers and came back in when I heard my dad say, no he would prefer to go in tomorrow. I took the phone at that point and set up an appointment for about an hour later. Sorry, Dad, you don't have a choice.
We took a family field trip to urgent care. I drove my parents. My brother met us there. It was like a jolly old field trip. Actually, it wasn't, but my mom sort of treated it that way. She and my dad went in together to see the doctor, who ordered a bunch of tests but let him go home. They're looking at several things, including the possibility of diabetes, which as an older African American man who eats like crap (taco shop 4 times a week, plus lunch meat, hot dogs, canned chili, and other things that are incredibly high in sodium), is a good possibility.
On the way home, I tried talking to them both about making better choices. My mom lives on cigarettes and Pepsi. My dad on the aforementioned foods and sugary drinks like soda and iced tea. They basically told me they're too set in their ways, that they like to eat what they like to eat, and that everyone is going to die, so why worry about it? My dad bragged about the only vegetables he eats being (iceberg) lettuce and tomatoes, and said that if he can't eat what he likes, what's the point of eating? I told him that if he ate better, he could possibly not have to take blood pressure medication anymore, and I pointed out to both of them that they could live a long time, could possibly avoid dying of some awful thing (this is especially true in my mom's case. 40+ years of cigarette smoking seems like begging for cancer), and could stick around long enough to see Michaela grow up. And they totally blew me off.
I guess today is the first time it hit me that since I've had Michaela, I'm officially part of "The Sandwich Generation." I'm trapped between my parents and my baby. Someday, probably soon, I will have to take care of the older and the younger generation. And in the case of my parents, it's not just health, it's also financial. The two-house situation they currently maintain isn't sustainable. My mom doesn't work and my dad doesn't make that much money. So it's stupid to be paying mortgage and rent, to pay two of all the utility bills, etc. But they won't change. Their answer when I talk to them about that is the same as their answer when I talk about health stuff: we are adults, we can do what we want. They don't care that they're in the process of screwing me over. They're too short-sighted or too proud or too blindly optimistic or too I don't know what to see that at some point, something is going to happen and I'm going to have to take care of them. Certainly my brother can't. He's a good person, but he works as a bar back, four days a week. He can hardly afford to take care of himself (because of his bad habits, which he learned/inherited from my parents. In fact, he recently declared bankruptcy at the ripe old age of 27). So it will all fall on me and on Mike, who just today said he expects my mom is going to have to move in with us at some point because of her bad financial situation.
Life in the middle of this sandwich is pretty scary. I hope not to do this to Michaela.
(Side note: my parents don't live together. They're still married, but they live apart. Two houses, about 1.5 miles from each other.)
My brother checked on my dad, who went to lay down, and then called me. I only live about a mile (probably less, actually) from my dad, so I went over. I didn't know how long I'd be there, or if my mom would come (because she is strange, and because even if she did come, she doesn't drive on the freeway and the circuitous route she takes can mean a half hour to get to my dad's house, and because she doesn't have a cell phone, so I can't reach her if she's not home), so I brought a book. I talked to my dad, found out what happened, told him I'd stick around to check on him. Got out my book, read for a few minutes before my mom showed up. She sent me back home to get my blood pressure cuff. My dad has high blood pressure and is on meds, so one of our thoughts was that maybe he had a sudden drop in blood pressure (or blood sugar, though he's not a diabetic as far as we know). His blood pressure was high, which was worrisome to me since he is on meds. He was cold, he was lethargic, and he seemed to be having a hard time paying attention. We let him rest some more and checked on him and his blood pressure again. It was better, but still high.
I suggested to him, and to my mom, that we take him to the doctor. He has health insurance, so there's no reason not to go. Except that he's a man and hates going to the doctor. He said no. My mom thought he should go, but she asked him if he wanted to and he declined. After a little bit of that, I made an executive decision that he really needed to go. I called the nurse line and talked to a nurse who asked me questions and then asked to talk to my dad. If I hadn't had the nurse on the phone already, he never would have agreed to talk to a nurse, but I just handed my dad the phone and said, "here, the nurse wants to ask you some questions." The first thing out of my dad's mouth was, "I feel fine!" I left the room so my dad would feel more comfortable giving honest answers and came back in when I heard my dad say, no he would prefer to go in tomorrow. I took the phone at that point and set up an appointment for about an hour later. Sorry, Dad, you don't have a choice.
We took a family field trip to urgent care. I drove my parents. My brother met us there. It was like a jolly old field trip. Actually, it wasn't, but my mom sort of treated it that way. She and my dad went in together to see the doctor, who ordered a bunch of tests but let him go home. They're looking at several things, including the possibility of diabetes, which as an older African American man who eats like crap (taco shop 4 times a week, plus lunch meat, hot dogs, canned chili, and other things that are incredibly high in sodium), is a good possibility.
On the way home, I tried talking to them both about making better choices. My mom lives on cigarettes and Pepsi. My dad on the aforementioned foods and sugary drinks like soda and iced tea. They basically told me they're too set in their ways, that they like to eat what they like to eat, and that everyone is going to die, so why worry about it? My dad bragged about the only vegetables he eats being (iceberg) lettuce and tomatoes, and said that if he can't eat what he likes, what's the point of eating? I told him that if he ate better, he could possibly not have to take blood pressure medication anymore, and I pointed out to both of them that they could live a long time, could possibly avoid dying of some awful thing (this is especially true in my mom's case. 40+ years of cigarette smoking seems like begging for cancer), and could stick around long enough to see Michaela grow up. And they totally blew me off.
I guess today is the first time it hit me that since I've had Michaela, I'm officially part of "The Sandwich Generation." I'm trapped between my parents and my baby. Someday, probably soon, I will have to take care of the older and the younger generation. And in the case of my parents, it's not just health, it's also financial. The two-house situation they currently maintain isn't sustainable. My mom doesn't work and my dad doesn't make that much money. So it's stupid to be paying mortgage and rent, to pay two of all the utility bills, etc. But they won't change. Their answer when I talk to them about that is the same as their answer when I talk about health stuff: we are adults, we can do what we want. They don't care that they're in the process of screwing me over. They're too short-sighted or too proud or too blindly optimistic or too I don't know what to see that at some point, something is going to happen and I'm going to have to take care of them. Certainly my brother can't. He's a good person, but he works as a bar back, four days a week. He can hardly afford to take care of himself (because of his bad habits, which he learned/inherited from my parents. In fact, he recently declared bankruptcy at the ripe old age of 27). So it will all fall on me and on Mike, who just today said he expects my mom is going to have to move in with us at some point because of her bad financial situation.
Life in the middle of this sandwich is pretty scary. I hope not to do this to Michaela.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Friends, babies, and exercise
Last night, I continued my "friends with babies" tour and hung out with another friend from college, his wife and their 7 month old daughter. (I think I wrote that last weekend, I saw another friend from college, his wife, and their 20 month old daughter.) It was really fun to get to meet this little girl, and also nice to introduce them to Michaela. It's amazing how many of my friends have kids now! It makes me feel old, in some ways, but at the same time, I feel like I'm young to have a baby. I mean, I'm not, of course, but I look at myself in the mirror and think, "I don't look like a mom!" Except I look like me, and I am a mom, so I guess I do look like a mom.
How's that for a deep thought?
I reached out to a friend from high school last night. We have a complicated history, but I was thinking yesterday about something she did for me in high school that was very kind, and it made me want to reach out to her. She is excited to meet Michaela, and even wants me to bring her by her mom's house so her mom can meet the baby, too. I am reminded how loved I am, and how loved Michaela is.
Have I mentioned that I started a training program? C25k. Couch to 5k. I ran once this week, need to do another 2 times before Monday. I guess that leaves today, Saturday, or Sunday. Oy. But it's good for me. I'm back up, weight-wise, and I don't like it. And while I know running won't get rid of the disgusting flap of skin on my belly, it would help to lose weight before I tackle situps. Maybe I should start a fitness blog. ;)
How's that for a deep thought?
I reached out to a friend from high school last night. We have a complicated history, but I was thinking yesterday about something she did for me in high school that was very kind, and it made me want to reach out to her. She is excited to meet Michaela, and even wants me to bring her by her mom's house so her mom can meet the baby, too. I am reminded how loved I am, and how loved Michaela is.
Have I mentioned that I started a training program? C25k. Couch to 5k. I ran once this week, need to do another 2 times before Monday. I guess that leaves today, Saturday, or Sunday. Oy. But it's good for me. I'm back up, weight-wise, and I don't like it. And while I know running won't get rid of the disgusting flap of skin on my belly, it would help to lose weight before I tackle situps. Maybe I should start a fitness blog. ;)
Monday, March 15, 2010
Life at home
Michaela weights 17 pounds, according to our home scale. She's a big girl! Mike said his mom told him that he was always in the 95th percentile of the age group above what he was in, and it seems like Michaela is in the same boat.
She has a cold right now and is really snotty. I feel bad for her. Her nose is chapped and raw, and her nasal passages are full of phlegm. The poor thing doesn't know how to blow her nose yet, so I try to suck out what I can with the nasal bulb ("snot sucker") and wipe what comes out of her nose as I see it.
The baby is going through another growth spurt and has been eating like a hungry, hungry hippo. Thank goodness for formula supplementation!
Mike and I are doing better. He says I'm over my postpartum depression. Well, he says (sarcastically), I'd be over it if I' had it. (Since I maintain that I wasn't suffering from it.) I still am not excited about sex. It still hurts and I'm just not into it. Most of the time, if I'm in bed, I prefer to be sleeping. That doesn't go over very well around here.
But things are pretty good and I'm really enjoying being a mom. Hopefully I can expand on that soon in another post.
She has a cold right now and is really snotty. I feel bad for her. Her nose is chapped and raw, and her nasal passages are full of phlegm. The poor thing doesn't know how to blow her nose yet, so I try to suck out what I can with the nasal bulb ("snot sucker") and wipe what comes out of her nose as I see it.
The baby is going through another growth spurt and has been eating like a hungry, hungry hippo. Thank goodness for formula supplementation!
Mike and I are doing better. He says I'm over my postpartum depression. Well, he says (sarcastically), I'd be over it if I' had it. (Since I maintain that I wasn't suffering from it.) I still am not excited about sex. It still hurts and I'm just not into it. Most of the time, if I'm in bed, I prefer to be sleeping. That doesn't go over very well around here.
But things are pretty good and I'm really enjoying being a mom. Hopefully I can expand on that soon in another post.
Reaction to breastfeeding
The other night, we were at a party and a friend of a friend started to feed her 20 month old daughter. The mother is a bigger lady, was wearing a t-shirt. The daughter is old enough to walk and talk.
The daughter got hungry, so the mother pulled up her (not nursing-friendly) t-shirt, almost over her head. The daughter walked over, hopped up on her mom's lap, and latched on to the mother's nipple. The whole sight was disturbing to me, in spite of several facts:
I have been trying to work on seeing breasts as a food source, not as a sexual object, and that has been working okay. Nursing is natural. For thousands of years, breastmilk was the only food babies got. Who knows how long that went on? In the U.S., they're now recommending breastfeeding for one year, and ideally, it would be two years. I'm sure in olden times, it may have been even longer than that. That said, seeing a toddler walk up to mom and ask for milk was unsettling.
Also, because breasts are a source of food, there's nothing wrong with exposing one for feeding your kid. That said, I am unused to seeing someone just take off her top. And it was a giant breast on a giant woman. In talking to Mike, he said that was what grossed him out about it, that she should have covered up (or at least worn a nursing-friendly shirt so that she wouldn't expose her belly and breasts). I told him that we wouldn't complain if someone brought out an uncovered tray of food at a restaurant, and in the end, aren't they both about getting food to the hungry? I asked him if it would have bothered him as much if the mother was thin and cute and he said no. I don't agree with that, but I understand where he was coming from.
It has been interesting (to me) to think through my reaction to all of this.
The daughter got hungry, so the mother pulled up her (not nursing-friendly) t-shirt, almost over her head. The daughter walked over, hopped up on her mom's lap, and latched on to the mother's nipple. The whole sight was disturbing to me, in spite of several facts:
I have been trying to work on seeing breasts as a food source, not as a sexual object, and that has been working okay. Nursing is natural. For thousands of years, breastmilk was the only food babies got. Who knows how long that went on? In the U.S., they're now recommending breastfeeding for one year, and ideally, it would be two years. I'm sure in olden times, it may have been even longer than that. That said, seeing a toddler walk up to mom and ask for milk was unsettling.
Also, because breasts are a source of food, there's nothing wrong with exposing one for feeding your kid. That said, I am unused to seeing someone just take off her top. And it was a giant breast on a giant woman. In talking to Mike, he said that was what grossed him out about it, that she should have covered up (or at least worn a nursing-friendly shirt so that she wouldn't expose her belly and breasts). I told him that we wouldn't complain if someone brought out an uncovered tray of food at a restaurant, and in the end, aren't they both about getting food to the hungry? I asked him if it would have bothered him as much if the mother was thin and cute and he said no. I don't agree with that, but I understand where he was coming from.
It has been interesting (to me) to think through my reaction to all of this.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Latest and greatest
Another round up post!
Michaela has started cooing! It's so cute. She is awake a lot more and is bright eyed and bushy tailed.
She's grown a lot. She is already outgrowing some of her 3 month clothes. It turns out that Carter's clothes run small.
We have been taking a lot of walks. Well, we've walked the last three days. Monday, we walked to the dog park. Tuesday, we walked to the post office. Today, we walked to Seaport Village. It's nice for all of us to go on little trips like that, not to mention that it's good for mommy's weight loss!
I am getting tired of pumping. It's scary to think that I have 9 more months to go, if I'm going to make it a full year. My boobs are tired, I'm tired of waking up in the middle of the night. Oy!
Mike's grandpa died. We Skyped with him the day before he (unexpectedly) died, which I'm very thankful for. As much as I am sad about Mike's grandpa passing-- and I really, really am-- I am more sad that it makes me think about my parents, or Mike's parents, dying. It's also now taken on a whole new dimension, which is it makes me really sad to think about Michaela having to lose her grandparents.
The other night, we stopped by my dad's house, and it was so cute to see my dad with the baby. He just loves her SO MUCH! He was making all these silly noises and faces to make Michaela smile. We finally had to tell him we needed to leave; I swear, he could have done that all day.
Michaela has started cooing! It's so cute. She is awake a lot more and is bright eyed and bushy tailed.
She's grown a lot. She is already outgrowing some of her 3 month clothes. It turns out that Carter's clothes run small.
We have been taking a lot of walks. Well, we've walked the last three days. Monday, we walked to the dog park. Tuesday, we walked to the post office. Today, we walked to Seaport Village. It's nice for all of us to go on little trips like that, not to mention that it's good for mommy's weight loss!
I am getting tired of pumping. It's scary to think that I have 9 more months to go, if I'm going to make it a full year. My boobs are tired, I'm tired of waking up in the middle of the night. Oy!
Mike's grandpa died. We Skyped with him the day before he (unexpectedly) died, which I'm very thankful for. As much as I am sad about Mike's grandpa passing-- and I really, really am-- I am more sad that it makes me think about my parents, or Mike's parents, dying. It's also now taken on a whole new dimension, which is it makes me really sad to think about Michaela having to lose her grandparents.
The other night, we stopped by my dad's house, and it was so cute to see my dad with the baby. He just loves her SO MUCH! He was making all these silly noises and faces to make Michaela smile. We finally had to tell him we needed to leave; I swear, he could have done that all day.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Leavin' on a jet plane
So I had to go to Sacramento for work, starting Monday. I knew I would have a hard time with it, given I teared up when I left the baby with Mike's mom while she was visiting, but I didn't think it would be quite as hard as it has been. This is the first time I've left Michaela for more than a few hours!
I put Michaela in her carseat, but she was sleeping and didn't wake up. I was glad, because I didn't want to wake her up and make her unhappy, but I was sad because I would have enjoyed seeing her open eyes and being able to hold her a little bit. When Mike and Michaela dropped me off at the airport, I teared up as they were going away.
I'd been really unexcited for the trip due to the packing and traveling part of it. Breastpump + cooler full of pumped milk (on the way back) + clothes for the conference + toiletries + laptop + purse + conference materials means a lot of crap to haul around. Fortunately, Mike helped me figure out a good plan and I was able to check one giant suitcase full of clothes, breastpump and empty cooler. I carried on a small suitcase with the conference materials and my purse, and my laptop bag. It was a lot to carry around, but I didn't have to deal with explaining my breastpump to TSA's lackeys, so that was good.
Got to my hotel in Sacramento, unpacked and pumped. Did some conference activities, went to a reception. Ducked out of that early, came home and pumped. Ordered room service, took a shower, watched a little tv. I also got to talk to Mike and Michaela. Mike put me on speakerphone, so Michaela could hear me. She started crying a little bit and I told him it was because she missed me. When we got off the phone, I cried more. Mike noticed, because he called me back a little bit later. Of course, when we got off the phone the second time, the same thing happened.
I went to bed about 10 p.m. and slept until about 3 a.m., when I woke up with bursting beasts. They were so full, I was leaking. The pumping is going well, though. I have somewhere between 32 and 40 ounces put away already. When I go home, it will go in the freezer and Michaela will have milk for the next time I have to go somewhere. Hopefully that will be some time from now!
This morning, I got to talk to them a little bit, but they were at Outdoor Education class so they couldn't talk long. In the afternoon, I called my mom just to say hi, and I heard Michaela in the background. Mike had dropped her off for my mom to babysit while he did some work. I'm glad he's getting a little break from being the sole caretaker; I know I'd want one.
Hopefully tonight we'll do some video chatting. I want to see my baby!
I put Michaela in her carseat, but she was sleeping and didn't wake up. I was glad, because I didn't want to wake her up and make her unhappy, but I was sad because I would have enjoyed seeing her open eyes and being able to hold her a little bit. When Mike and Michaela dropped me off at the airport, I teared up as they were going away.
I'd been really unexcited for the trip due to the packing and traveling part of it. Breastpump + cooler full of pumped milk (on the way back) + clothes for the conference + toiletries + laptop + purse + conference materials means a lot of crap to haul around. Fortunately, Mike helped me figure out a good plan and I was able to check one giant suitcase full of clothes, breastpump and empty cooler. I carried on a small suitcase with the conference materials and my purse, and my laptop bag. It was a lot to carry around, but I didn't have to deal with explaining my breastpump to TSA's lackeys, so that was good.
Got to my hotel in Sacramento, unpacked and pumped. Did some conference activities, went to a reception. Ducked out of that early, came home and pumped. Ordered room service, took a shower, watched a little tv. I also got to talk to Mike and Michaela. Mike put me on speakerphone, so Michaela could hear me. She started crying a little bit and I told him it was because she missed me. When we got off the phone, I cried more. Mike noticed, because he called me back a little bit later. Of course, when we got off the phone the second time, the same thing happened.
I went to bed about 10 p.m. and slept until about 3 a.m., when I woke up with bursting beasts. They were so full, I was leaking. The pumping is going well, though. I have somewhere between 32 and 40 ounces put away already. When I go home, it will go in the freezer and Michaela will have milk for the next time I have to go somewhere. Hopefully that will be some time from now!
This morning, I got to talk to them a little bit, but they were at Outdoor Education class so they couldn't talk long. In the afternoon, I called my mom just to say hi, and I heard Michaela in the background. Mike had dropped her off for my mom to babysit while he did some work. I'm glad he's getting a little break from being the sole caretaker; I know I'd want one.
Hopefully tonight we'll do some video chatting. I want to see my baby!
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