Unwellness

friday's to do meme

Five Things I Must Do Today - updated Sunday night
- order more Charlie's soap
- order ticket for Girlyman on Sunday (I am soooooo dragging my feet on this, as it means not being here for Beck's bedtime and I am having An Issue with that) - THEY WERE SOLD OUT. I have been in a bad ass mood all day thanks to this. SO pissed at myself. I wallowed in my fury by watching videos of them on You Tube. Blech. Mad. Pissed at everyone. Bleh bleh blehhhhh.
- finish sewing curtain for living room window - halfway, sort of - I may have messed up and may have to use the seam ripper AGAIN (done twice already)
- put away videos in living room cabinet (last 2 boxes to be unpacked in our whole house!)
- eat dinner

on easter

we went to the zoo. Beck was unimpressed, as he has his own zoo right here in our home. The alpacas were greedy and cute and may have eaten Beck if we'd stuck around much longer. The zoo visitors were made up entirely of Orthodox Jews, Muslims and Atheists.

nightstand

It's that meme. Where you say what's on your nightstand. Leaving nothing out. So, um. Here goes:

Please just know that I cleaned afterward. I didn't want to be accused of leaving anything out, so I took the picture as it was this morning.

Books:
Embroideries by Marjane Satrapi (read it on cruise, should be getting rid of it)
Maybe Baby:28 Writers Tell the Truth About Skepticism, Infertility, Baby Lust, Childlessness, Ambivalence and How They Made the Biggest Decision of Their Lives (read years ago, need to get rid of it)
How To Fit A Car Seat on a Camel and Other Misadventures Traveling with Kids (galley) (haven't read yet)
Grace (Eventually) by Anne Lamott (reading)
Love Works Like This by Lauren Slater (reading)
and, um, Women on Top by Nancy Friday. Which lives there.

Puzzle Books:
Monday Crosswords (New York Times)
Tougher Tuesday Crosswords
England's Best Logic Problems

Journals:
2 spiral bound, 2 small muji (gifts from Crazy Uncle Zach), 1 white blank, 1 Denise Schmidt quilt journal, 1 five year daily journal, written in for first 1.5 years and ignored since end of pregnancy, 1 teacher's lesson planner (blank), Beck's baby journal, written in sporadically but up to date

plastic bag full of cards given to us at shower and sonogram pics of Beck, to be glued in or otherwise attached to baby journal

magnetic MOMA book bookmarks from my stocking at Christmas

a card from meanmama, written to me in 2005

a blank card meant for Wes that I haven't written, "I love not camping" on front

one eyeglass case, gift from ms. dee at seesaw (I kept all my basal thermometers in there until today, when I pulled everything out for this meme - now I can use it for glasses again)

directions for our thermostat

nail clippers, much to Wes' dismay (this is the thing I do that drives him most crazy, as they belong in the bathroom ONLY)

one copy Real Simple magazine, special Travel edition

one mongramed leather thing that holds a book open, gift from a business associate of my dad's when I graduated college

3 crochet hooks

1 pen

2 pencils (1 regular, 1 for quilting)

Infant Tylenol

Hyland's teething tablets

note cards that were supposed to be written to friends in hard times about three months ago

slate coaster with last night's water glass on it

coffee Wes made me before he went to work

that wax stuff you use to seal a letter and a B stamp for it

an empty bottle of baby saline

a wrist brace from my pregnant carpal tunnel days

plastic bag full of large quilting safety pins

baby monitor

3 working remotes (light, TV and cable) and one non-working (for Beck to play with)

one pink coat, worn by me as a baby - we are unsure what to do with it as we didn't have a girl so it's been floating around for a while

inhaler

eye pillow

Bigelow lip balm that I don't like that much (I always use Wes' Burt's Bees right before we go to sleep when he puts it on)

4 kinds of foot and leg lotion, mostly things Wes brought home from the giveaway table, all meant to help with wormy fibro legs (or in one case swollen preggo legs)

giant thing of Vaseline lotion, the only lotion I actually use, though Wes is currently freaking about parabins or something carcinogenic in all our beauty products so my days with it are numbered and I will have to find an organic crunchy alternative (hard, as I am uber picky about lotion)

and um... totally unopened lube. the kind that warms. not that I'd know.
And that's officially the most I will ever blog about my sex life. Or lack thereof.

The fabric to the side is excess Lexie Lew fabric which has nowhere else to live right now so takes up 10 sq ft of our bedroom.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggghhhhh

So... we leave Tuesday early morning for CA and today I get this:

I have at one point or another in the last year met your son at a gap
casting.
I am working with Tar...get and would love to invite you back so i can see
how much he's grown since i've last seen him.
Let me know if you can make it to the casting next week. thanks.
Tuesday, April 1st.....
etc

bullets

- There is something wrong with me when Super.nanny makes me cry. Dads who yell and then turn softy make me weep. Also little boys with reddish hair screaming, "I'M DORRY!" (sorry) from the naughty stool.

- I don't know why I feel like I just keep screwing up this mom thing. My boy is happy and fine. I am probably not doing any permanent damage. If he is spoiled, he certainly won't be the first one in our family (ie, all of us). If he is still sneaking into our bed at age 3, 6, 9... we will deal. There are a few deep-seated issues under my fears and worries here:
    - - GMB slept in our bed until he was 10 and it often sucked. Even though I spent the months before I met Wes dreaming of sharing his bed and his son in that bed, the reality of a giant, lanky child taking over the bed, preventing all grown-up snuggling and possible cavorting, and being a hot sweatbox in the summer... was more than I ever bargained for. I am loathe to let that happen again and each time I bring Beck into our bed before our 6am agreed-upon snuggle time, I feel a bright flashing red light going off in my head. FEAR OF FUTURE.
    - Even though I am doing my utmost to let go of expectations and know that parenting means dealing with the unexpected in new and unexpected ways, I still sometimes feel stuck on how I think I SHOULD be. Or how I thought I would be. Or how my friends are. I have this real worry that people will think I am spoiling my kid. It is something I need to just get over. Especially because, honestly? He will be spoiled in many ways, even if bedtime isn't one of them. The most I can hope for is that he will be kind and polite and not entitled. I think one can be spoiled without being entitled. See: me.

- So am I not supposed to use the Hyland's tablets because of the belladonna? Or what?

- Beyond the spoiling worries, the 'holding him too much' thing has some practical considerations given the fibro. My arms are dead. Sticking him in the Ergo on my back is a huge improvement except that I often do so at the end of the day when trying to get dinner ready. And he is tired and cranky and nearing bath and bed time (we are often just waiting for Wes to get home to start) and he often falls asleep on me. And that's just not a good time for sleeping. I find the whole thing frustrating. He is delicious in my arms. But oh. so. mothereffing. heavy.

- Some days I am so worried about going back to work IN SIX MONTHS that I can't even enjoy this massive amount of time we have together. I worry:
     -- that he will be such a screaming pain in the ass that my m-i-l will regret having agreed to be our nanny
    --  that he will have more fun with her
    -- that he won't like me as much any more

- The difference that I alluded to between CIO and Ferber: Ferber is sometimes referred to as CIO but it is more structured and graduated than strict CIO a la Weissbluth. Ferber says that you can go in after 5 min and see that they are OK and tell them to go to sleep or something (I don't know - we ignore this and totally rub his back and help him calm down) and then you leave and next time you wait 10 minutes and do it again. Each time you wait a little longer before going in. Weissbluth says leave 'em 'til they fall asleep. This is often necessary when going in and then leaving again just serves to make them more upset. Sometimes the crying can go on for 45 minutes but if you can tell that it's getting slowly less and less hysterical, winding down more and more, it can be easier to let it go on and on rather than go in to make yourself feel better and make the baby cry harder when you leave. But I am far from an expert. I have read half the Ferber and about 3 pages of the Weissbluth (none about CIO, all about infant sleep, wherein he is quite liberal - he says you can let them suck to sleep whereas 'no cry' Pantley wants you to whip the nipple out of their mouths before they fall asleep, which is far from 'no cry' around here, Ms. Pantley. Sheesh. I hated that book. What was I saying?)

- I owe the blogosphere the following posts:
    -- impressions of Park Slope parents now that I am one
    -- environmentalism ups and downs
    -- memes - that nightstand one and my to-do list
    -- the family tree stuff started by Sophia is interesting and I think we should all do it, and more specifically the grandparent request from Calliope, concluding a beautiful and heartbreaking post
    -- the Feb 29 loss post, another Calliope request, which I think about a lot but haven't been able to write yet. When I do, I will backpost it and link to it.

unwitting attachment parent

Somehow, laziness has turned me into an attachment parent. Of sorts.

Teething is hell lately and our boy has more than once been awake and screaming at 4 am, inconsolable, unsoothable. I bring him to our bed. Because it seems unfair that I should have to wrestle him alone. And because I am so tired I can barely stand up. All I want is sleep. It seems like maybe I will be able to sleep faster if I am already semi-prone whenever we are able to wrangle him to sleep.

I pick him up too much. He is needy and whiny much of the day - is this teething or have I create a monster or is he just 7 months old and attached to me? In any case, I find the whining annoying. It is easy to make it stop if I just hold him. He is on me more than ever lately. I am even strapping him on my back in the Ergo to bake. Never would I have thought.

He is going through a HUGE mommy phase. He does not want Wes to come in if he wakes up in the night. He wants me. He usually wants boob. But sometimes he just wants to nuzzle the boob and fall asleep on them. I am doing nothing to break this. I shovel my dinner into my mouth faster and rush up to relieve Wes after he's tried shushing and singing and pacing and bouncing and kissing to no avail. I rush in, boobs flying, and save the day even though I resent having to be The One all the time. Because I also secretly like feeling important. And it is easier than dealing with the whole crying thing.

I can't face Cry It Out again because we are about to go on a trip. But I am beginning to wonder if I will ever want to do it again. In July, my Mother-in-Law will be moving in and will have to walk through Beck's room in the night to get to the bathroom. It is less than ideal but the best we can do. We have a huge divider to block him from seeing anyone go by, but come on. He will wake up. It will be chaos. And I will be exhausted and it will be 2 in the morning. And I will not be letting him scream. And I will not be Ferberizing. I will be bringing him into the bed with us.

He is so cuddly and warm. Especially when he is not screaming in teething pain. Then... not so much.

What is in those Hyland's teething tablets, anyway? Nightshade? Isn't that some sort of crazy deadly herb? WTF? Please note that I desperately told Wes to purchase them last week during the pain-induced nursing strike and I promptly popped 2 into his mouth before even reading the package. That is the state of things around here.

I need to write a book about how laziness can lead you to the exact same place as Dr. Sears. Only without the rightwing Christian bit.

He is screaming in Wes' arms right now. Off I go.

time to lower the crib mattress

Second Breakfast Cookie Bars

I doubled this recipe so I will go ahead and give you the doubled version. Half it if you need to.

1.5 cups sugar
1.5 cups brown sugar
1.5 cups butter
1.5 cups flaxseed meal
3-4 tsp vanilla
4 eggs
2 cups white flour
1- 1.3 cups whole wheat flour (or this much more regular flour)
2 tsp baking soda
3-4 cups oatmeal (I used 3 regular and 1 steel cut)
2-4 cups chocolate chips

Heat oven to 325. Combine sugar and butter, beat, add eggs and vanilla, add flax meal and beat well.

Slowly add flours, baking soda and salt. Mix well. Stir in oats and chocolate chips.

Spray two cookie sheets (the kind with edges rather than totally flat) and split mixture in half. Spread half into each pan. Usually easiest to do with fingers. If you don't want bars, do drop cookies instead.

Bake for roughly 15-20 minutes but keep CLOSE watch - the flaxseed makes it bake faster and each oven differs so look for browning edges and don't let them get too dark. Ours were a smidge crispier than I would normally do.

pissed and productive

Yesterday it took a lot - A. LOT. - to get me out of the house and on the way to errand-running. I had to go to Target AND Fairway with the baby and after moping and not roaming more than a few blocks for a week, this was asking a lot of myself. But I wanted to get all the shopping done at once because I have found that these things ARE possible with Beck in tow, if not speedy, and that if I get them done during the week it gives the weekend a much more relaxing pace. Really, I would run just about any errand for the chance to see Wes spend happy time with the Beck, unworried about time or to do lists.

Let's just start by mentioning the conditions into which I awoke. Wes had sweetly bought me coffee and a croissant from our favorite place and left it for me on the headboard. Unfortunately, he left the coffee in the bag sitting tilted. And the coffee spilled out slowly over the course of the hours I slept in with Beck. So that when I woke up, the headboard was covered in coffee and it had made its way down to the pillow and the corner of the bed, both coated in coffee. It was a lovely, coffee-scented mess.

So. Diapered, fed, coat and hat on both of us and into the wind we go. I was going to run the stroller out to the car first but realized my sister had driven the car last and said it was parked a block away. So giant sleeping bag thing into the stroller (remind me to post about that thing) and baby into sleeping bag in stroller and off we go down the block. He is sleepy and displeased about the bundling and stuffing.

When we reached the end of my block, the place where my sister had described parking, I knew immediately. The car wasn't there. I knew exactly what must have happened. My street is a tiny, one-block long street. There are no crosswalks painted from corner to corner on its ends, but in the places where crosswalks should be there are dips in the sidewalk. Places for strollers or wheelchairs to go when crossing the street. And you are not allowed to park in front of them. This is not spelled out in any way. The only reason Wes and I were not towed in our first months of living here was because we once parked in this space only to be told by a friendly passer-by that it wasn't a spot. After you know this, it seems like common sense but it isn't something that occurs to you when trying to park late at night when you are about to leave on vacation.

Because that's where my sister was. On a plane. So I couldn't even call her to yell.

Instead, I called my father and secured a promise that he would help pay, bless his heart. Nursing students (aka, my sister) are not known for their deep pockets.

I located my towed car online and stuck Beck in the Moby. I was suddenly grateful that we live near what we usually consider to be an inferior subway line because it meant no transfers on the way to the impound lot. Beck was asleep by the time I reached the end of my block but some loud people on the subway woke him up too fast for it to be considered the proper nap I was hoping for.

We got the car with minimal fuss or issue but much waiting around while standing with the baby on me. And legs going numb and fussing beginning. We had to walk out to the car instead of being driven in the van because, of course, I had the baby strapped on me. There were massive puddles all over and much walking around them. It was a shlep and it was super windy.

And then, because Beck was shocked and thrilled to see his car seat friends (bird and bugs - toys we keep only in the car which he adores), I went to fricking Target. And then, because I had said I was going to, dammit, I went to Fairway. Beck, now bored with bird and bugs, screamed between the two and passed out. But we arrived before he could get a proper nap in.

We drove home with Beck screaming, then passing out a few blocks from home. No proper nap. But by then it was time for dinner, bath and bed and he went down like a dream.

$185 for the tow, $175 for the ticket, and something mysterious done to my credit card by the tow lot because it was declined at both Target and Fairway... grrrr.

I will post Second Breakfast Cookie recipe this evening. Beck screaming at my feet now.

ETA: A post is up from meanmama, thank heavens. Please go send your love and strength to her. And J, in Boston, my cell phone was dead because I left my charger on the cruise so I only got your message last night. Hopefully this will fill you in but call again or I will call you.

fyi

If you make oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and you substitute 1/2 cup of the butter with 1 1/2 cups of flaxseed meal, I am fairly sure that eating 5 of them for second breakfast becomes a reasonable and healthy thing to do.