Dear Patrick,
I'm sorry I haven't written you more often-- after you were born I had every intention of writing you a letter every month. But the time slips by and my intentions fall by the wayside even while I marvel at all you have learned and accomplished in the time I have known you. You are just shy of being 21 months old and I cannot believe that in three months my sweet baby monkey will be turning two. I still call you my baby even though you are very much a toddler, into everything and exploring the world. I can see the little boy you are becoming and, because you have your father's features, I can imagine the man you will be. You are everything I could want in a child and so much more than I ever expected.
It is just after midnight on September 1 and these are the last few hours that you will be my only child. Your baby brother will be born this morning! After you, I wasn't sure I wanted any more children or if I could have another one even if I did. You were something of a miracle-surprise and it seemed too much to expect that we could be so fortunate again. But miracle-surprises happen sometimes-- and sometimes they happen more than once. We were very lucky. The time has flown by and in a few days, we'll be bringing your brother home. He will be moving into your old room because it is smaller and much more suitable as a nursery and you've been given a bigger "big boy's" room, which has caused me a bit of sadness because I can't think of you as a big boy. Not yet.
Even though your father and I are excited about our growing family, there is a part of me that will miss these months of it being just the three of us. For the first five months of your life, it was just you and me-- learning about each other and muddling through the best we could until we found a rhythm and routine that worked for us. It was a difficult but amazing experience. And while I was so very grateful to have your father home from deployment, I did miss the time you and I shared alone. This is no different-- it is an adjustment and a very good adjustment at that-- but things are about to change for our family once again and I know I will look back on these weeks and months and feel melancholy for a time when you were my only baby and we were a family of three.
I have no doubt there will be ups and downs in the coming weeks and I will likely count on you to be more patient and well-behaved than I have any right to ask of you (not that you're not a terrific kid, but you are still a toddler!). And yet I suspect you will surprise me in this as you have surprised me in so many other ways. You are so smart and funny-- and so sweet and gentle with animals (real and stuffed) that I know you will be a terrific big brother. Like I said, I can't really comprehend you being a "big" anything-- but I know when we bring your brother home and I'm reminded of how helpless he is and how much we have to learn about him, you will seem to have grown up right before my eyes. And your familiarity will be a comfort when your brother is crying and I can't figure out what he needs. (I'm also counting on you to use your big brother magical wisdom to help guide me!)
I know you won't remember being the only child in our family, but I do hope that you will love having a brother. I hope you will be playmates and confidants and, yes, partners-in-crime in a good natured way. While every change is adjustment, it's hard to see anything negative about this change-- there will be more love and laughter in our house, more fun and silliness and toys. You will have someone to grow up with and your father and I will have two amazing little boys to raise. All good and wonderful things. I will try very hard to remember all of that in the coming months when I'm trying to cope with sleepless nights with your brother and those defiant toddler moments you sometimes have.
Thank you for being my first baby, Patrick. If not for your amazing personality and sweet smile, I might not have even considered going down this path a second time. You have made it all worthwhile and I suspect I will feel the same about your brother. But no matter what, you will always be my first baby-- and for the next 7 hours you are my only baby. Thank you for coming into my life and rocking my world in the best possible way. You are, now and always, my baby.
Mama loves you.
The Babies!
Showing posts with label Patrick. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Patrick. Show all posts
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Patrick in the Pool
Patrick in his pool for the first time. This swimming stuff (or splashing stuff) is serious business.
Friday, June 4, 2010
A Letter to Patrick, Six Months Old
Dear Patrick,
You were born six months ago today, changing my life forever. I have come a long way from the woman who had never changed a diaper and didn’t even know how to hold a newborn. And you, sweet monkey, have come a long way from that pink wriggling bundle that only slept, ate and taught me how to change diapers! Half a year is hardly any time at all, but I feel as if you have become a little person, complete with likes and dislikes and an awesome personality, in that short span of time.
You had your six month appointment today, along with the required vaccinations. What an amazing child you are, hardly even flinching until the third and final shot when you voiced your discomfort for all of thirty seconds before returning to your usual good humor. You are weighing in at 20 pounds and 6 ounces and are a little over 27 inches long. Quite a happy, healthy chunk, you are! No teeth yet—the pediatrician said it might be another couple of months for those.
This month has brought many new things to your life—first of all, your father is home from deployment! His homecoming was a wonderful day for us as a family, though I’m afraid the long wait for him to arrive tested the limits of your patience. It was your first—and perhaps last—experience with a Navy homecoming, but you handled it amazingly well. I don’t know who was smiling bigger—you or your father! Now it’s just a matter of the two of you getting to know each other better. It’s going well so far—no doubt because you both share the same mellow temperament in addition to looking so much alike.
I held off on feeding you solid foods until your father got home because I didn’t want him to miss any more of the milestones of this first year. You clearly don’t mind if I hold off even longer—the few solids you’ve tried so far have not impressed you. Rice cereal, bananas, applesauce, sweet potatoes, carrots and peas receive the same initial look of distaste. You seem to be getting used to the idea of eating off the spoon and want to help yourself, with messy results all around. (Truth be told, I’m far messier than you!) I think as you eat each food a few times you’re starting to get used to the taste and hopefully soon we’ll be able to offer you the things you like best. Right now, I think sweet potatoes are your favorite, but you’d still prefer your bottle to anything on a spoon. I imagine all of that will change in just a few months!
You are nearly able to sit up unassisted now. This new view of the world, with just my hand on your back or your hand on my arm for support, gives you the opportunity to grab for the things you want—whether it’s your bottle, your stuffed Tigger or whatever happens to be within reach on the kitchen table. You can roll from your back to your tummy quite easily and are mastering the tummy-to-back roll now. Crawling is on the horizon, but for now you can scoot backwards and spin yourself around while on your tummy. It won’t be long before you’re fully mobile. Heaven help us then.
You are a happy, smiley little guy, able to coax a grin from anyone, even those who aren’t too fond of babies. I think it’s the dark blue eyes and mop of blond hair—and that quirky, shy little half-smile you give strangers that blossoms into an open mouthed toothless grin once they’ve gained your approval. No one is impervious to that combination—certainly not me. (Again, heaven help me when you’re old enough to use your charms to get what you want!) Going for a ride in the truck, visiting new places, meeting new friends, everything sparks your curiosity and amusement. Oh, and you have a particular fondness for dark-haired girls. If they have tattoos, all the better. Oh my!
You’re learning new things almost on a daily basis and I love watching you study everything around you. I had no idea before you were born how entertaining it would be to watch you discover the world. You are just so much fun to be around. It seems I have learned a few things as well in the past six months thanks to my wonderful, good natured teacher. Because of you I’ve learned to slow down, be more patient and forgiving, enjoy the little accomplishments and appreciate the simple moments. Oh, and when all else fails, to smile. Thanks, baby.
Happy half-year birthday, baby. Mama loves you.
You were born six months ago today, changing my life forever. I have come a long way from the woman who had never changed a diaper and didn’t even know how to hold a newborn. And you, sweet monkey, have come a long way from that pink wriggling bundle that only slept, ate and taught me how to change diapers! Half a year is hardly any time at all, but I feel as if you have become a little person, complete with likes and dislikes and an awesome personality, in that short span of time.
You had your six month appointment today, along with the required vaccinations. What an amazing child you are, hardly even flinching until the third and final shot when you voiced your discomfort for all of thirty seconds before returning to your usual good humor. You are weighing in at 20 pounds and 6 ounces and are a little over 27 inches long. Quite a happy, healthy chunk, you are! No teeth yet—the pediatrician said it might be another couple of months for those.
This month has brought many new things to your life—first of all, your father is home from deployment! His homecoming was a wonderful day for us as a family, though I’m afraid the long wait for him to arrive tested the limits of your patience. It was your first—and perhaps last—experience with a Navy homecoming, but you handled it amazingly well. I don’t know who was smiling bigger—you or your father! Now it’s just a matter of the two of you getting to know each other better. It’s going well so far—no doubt because you both share the same mellow temperament in addition to looking so much alike.
I held off on feeding you solid foods until your father got home because I didn’t want him to miss any more of the milestones of this first year. You clearly don’t mind if I hold off even longer—the few solids you’ve tried so far have not impressed you. Rice cereal, bananas, applesauce, sweet potatoes, carrots and peas receive the same initial look of distaste. You seem to be getting used to the idea of eating off the spoon and want to help yourself, with messy results all around. (Truth be told, I’m far messier than you!) I think as you eat each food a few times you’re starting to get used to the taste and hopefully soon we’ll be able to offer you the things you like best. Right now, I think sweet potatoes are your favorite, but you’d still prefer your bottle to anything on a spoon. I imagine all of that will change in just a few months!
You are nearly able to sit up unassisted now. This new view of the world, with just my hand on your back or your hand on my arm for support, gives you the opportunity to grab for the things you want—whether it’s your bottle, your stuffed Tigger or whatever happens to be within reach on the kitchen table. You can roll from your back to your tummy quite easily and are mastering the tummy-to-back roll now. Crawling is on the horizon, but for now you can scoot backwards and spin yourself around while on your tummy. It won’t be long before you’re fully mobile. Heaven help us then.
You are a happy, smiley little guy, able to coax a grin from anyone, even those who aren’t too fond of babies. I think it’s the dark blue eyes and mop of blond hair—and that quirky, shy little half-smile you give strangers that blossoms into an open mouthed toothless grin once they’ve gained your approval. No one is impervious to that combination—certainly not me. (Again, heaven help me when you’re old enough to use your charms to get what you want!) Going for a ride in the truck, visiting new places, meeting new friends, everything sparks your curiosity and amusement. Oh, and you have a particular fondness for dark-haired girls. If they have tattoos, all the better. Oh my!
You’re learning new things almost on a daily basis and I love watching you study everything around you. I had no idea before you were born how entertaining it would be to watch you discover the world. You are just so much fun to be around. It seems I have learned a few things as well in the past six months thanks to my wonderful, good natured teacher. Because of you I’ve learned to slow down, be more patient and forgiving, enjoy the little accomplishments and appreciate the simple moments. Oh, and when all else fails, to smile. Thanks, baby.
Happy half-year birthday, baby. Mama loves you.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
A Letter to Patrick, Five Months Old
Dear Patrick,
Where has the time gone? Here you are at five months old already and your father is just days away from finally being home. He was supposed to be back on May 6, just in time for your mama’s birthday and first Mother’s Day, but now it’s looking like it will be next week. Soon though, baby! And this will hopefully be the last time he’s away from us for an extended period of time. I know that doesn’t mean much to you right now, but trust me—it’s a good thing!
The past month has been the most peaceful since you were born. No major issues at all! You sleep well, you’re hardly ever fussy, you smile all the time (even if you are stingy with your laughs) and you love riding in the truck, meeting new people and seeing the world from an upright position. You are sleeping about 11 hours a night, usually going down around 9 and getting up around 8. Your daytime naps are getting shorter to make up for the longer nights, but I don’t really mind—it gives us more time to play and have playdates.
Speaking of which, you are becoming quite popular with the girls. You have several “girlfriends” of various ages and have gotten to play with three of them just in the past week. Caitlin is two weeks older than you, Sydney is eight weeks younger than you and Cierra is almost four—but she loves baby boys and you certainly took a liking to her! There don’t seem to be any little boys in our circle of friends at the moment, but I’m sure you don’t mind being the only boy for now.
Your babysitter Ashleigh continues to be the favorite woman in your life. I do believe you like her even more than you like me, judging by the way you smile at her whenever she’s in the room. She has been an absolute gift to both of us, monkey. She even adjusted your carseat straps when I couldn’t figure out how to do it. I don’t know what we’d do without Ashleigh! (Hopefully we won’t have to find out any time soon.)
Your big discovery this month has been… your feet! You grab them any chance you get and attempt to get them to your mouth, though your belly gets in the way. Socks are the bane of your existence at the moment and you spend a great deal of your time trying to scrape them off with each foot. Footed pajamas are a constant source of irritation for you as they simply will not come off! I’m sorry, monkey. At least it has warmed up and you can actually go barefoot a bit more now.
This past Saturday, you learned to tug your socks off with your hands. Of course, you only got as far as the one sock before you decided to shove it in your mouth. Oh, monkey. Everything goes in your mouth right now. Your poor Tigger (a gift from Aunt Leslee) spends a great deal of his time soaking wet as you gnaw and suck on his face and limbs. I believe you’re teething and I do hope it won’t be too painful a process for you. I’m not quite ready for you to be growing teeth. You’re still my little baby!
The coming month is going to be filled with all kinds of adventures, baby! You’ll be starting solids soon (I’m waiting on that so your papa can be the first to feed you) and it won’t be long before you’re sitting up on your own. You’ll be needing some new gear to accommodate your developments. Mostly that means you’ll be getting some new toys that will be as much fun for the adults in your life as they are for you!
Well, baby, we did it. That December day we dropped your father off at the airport, I told you it was just you and me kid. Here we are, four and a half months later, and we have survived! Thank you for making the past few months as peaceful as you possibly could on your poor, inexperienced and exhausted mama. I am so very grateful that you are an easy, happy, forgiving baby. You have made me an easier, happier, more forgiving person as a result.
Happy five month birthday, monkey. Mama loves you.
Where has the time gone? Here you are at five months old already and your father is just days away from finally being home. He was supposed to be back on May 6, just in time for your mama’s birthday and first Mother’s Day, but now it’s looking like it will be next week. Soon though, baby! And this will hopefully be the last time he’s away from us for an extended period of time. I know that doesn’t mean much to you right now, but trust me—it’s a good thing!
The past month has been the most peaceful since you were born. No major issues at all! You sleep well, you’re hardly ever fussy, you smile all the time (even if you are stingy with your laughs) and you love riding in the truck, meeting new people and seeing the world from an upright position. You are sleeping about 11 hours a night, usually going down around 9 and getting up around 8. Your daytime naps are getting shorter to make up for the longer nights, but I don’t really mind—it gives us more time to play and have playdates.
Speaking of which, you are becoming quite popular with the girls. You have several “girlfriends” of various ages and have gotten to play with three of them just in the past week. Caitlin is two weeks older than you, Sydney is eight weeks younger than you and Cierra is almost four—but she loves baby boys and you certainly took a liking to her! There don’t seem to be any little boys in our circle of friends at the moment, but I’m sure you don’t mind being the only boy for now.
Your babysitter Ashleigh continues to be the favorite woman in your life. I do believe you like her even more than you like me, judging by the way you smile at her whenever she’s in the room. She has been an absolute gift to both of us, monkey. She even adjusted your carseat straps when I couldn’t figure out how to do it. I don’t know what we’d do without Ashleigh! (Hopefully we won’t have to find out any time soon.)
Your big discovery this month has been… your feet! You grab them any chance you get and attempt to get them to your mouth, though your belly gets in the way. Socks are the bane of your existence at the moment and you spend a great deal of your time trying to scrape them off with each foot. Footed pajamas are a constant source of irritation for you as they simply will not come off! I’m sorry, monkey. At least it has warmed up and you can actually go barefoot a bit more now.
This past Saturday, you learned to tug your socks off with your hands. Of course, you only got as far as the one sock before you decided to shove it in your mouth. Oh, monkey. Everything goes in your mouth right now. Your poor Tigger (a gift from Aunt Leslee) spends a great deal of his time soaking wet as you gnaw and suck on his face and limbs. I believe you’re teething and I do hope it won’t be too painful a process for you. I’m not quite ready for you to be growing teeth. You’re still my little baby!
The coming month is going to be filled with all kinds of adventures, baby! You’ll be starting solids soon (I’m waiting on that so your papa can be the first to feed you) and it won’t be long before you’re sitting up on your own. You’ll be needing some new gear to accommodate your developments. Mostly that means you’ll be getting some new toys that will be as much fun for the adults in your life as they are for you!
Well, baby, we did it. That December day we dropped your father off at the airport, I told you it was just you and me kid. Here we are, four and a half months later, and we have survived! Thank you for making the past few months as peaceful as you possibly could on your poor, inexperienced and exhausted mama. I am so very grateful that you are an easy, happy, forgiving baby. You have made me an easier, happier, more forgiving person as a result.
Happy five month birthday, monkey. Mama loves you.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Monday, April 5, 2010
A Letter to Patrick, Four Months Old
Dear Patrick,
You are four months and one day old today. I didn’t get a chance to write your letter yesterday because your Aunt Sheri was in town for the weekend. She hadn’t seen you since you were 12 days old! It was fun watching you with her, and watching her enjoy you as much as I do. (I often fear I’m a bit biased when it comes to how much fun you are and how easy your are and how beautiful you are. Oh, it’s sad to have become one of “those” mothers!)
Spring has arrived in Virginia and this month has meant more time outside. Sheri and I took you to the Norfolk Botanical Gardens on Saturday. When you weren’t napping, you seemed to enjoy the great big world. The park was certainly bigger than anything you’ve experienced so far! I’m looking forward to many outdoor days when your father gets home. Only five more weeks to go!
You went to the pediatrician on Thursday—your father’s 41st birthday, coincidentally—for your four month checkup and vaccinations. You’re weighing in at a little over 17 pounds now, monkey! Though I honestly expected you to weigh more since you feel soooo heavy to me! You handled the vaccinations like a champ and only cried for about a minute before you were smiling again. Whew! You don’t go back to the pediatrician until you’re six months old, thankfully.
So far this month you have started rolling over front to back and back to front, quite an accomplishment. You don’t do it often, but you’re starting to figure out that the rolling will get you closer to what you want. You’re a clever little monkey and have figured out how to grab onto things to pull yourself from your side to your stomach. Uh oh! The days of leaving you in the middle of the bed unattended will soon be over, I’m afraid.
You’re still sleeping well through the night, which is so wonderful. I was afraid of what they call the “four month sleep regression,” but if such a thing occurred, it only affected your daytime naps. You’re still napping pretty well, but your awake periods have stretched to two hours now. Your naps are all over the place—45 minutes to over 3 hours—but you total between 6 and 7 hours of naps a day.
You love tummy time and hold your head high, a steady stream of drool dripping from your bottom lip. Your usual smiley humor disappears when you’re in the tummy zone, though. Apparently, this is a very serious activity for you that requires intense concentration and maximum drool output. (The drool is all-powerful, I’ve discovered.) You kick your legs furiously, as if you can’t wait to crawl. Slow down, baby! There will be time enough for you to crawl and walk and run….
My favorite moment this month was last Wednesday night. We were talking to your father on the computer and I was making funny sounds to get you to smile and laugh. So far, your “laughing” has been brief a-ha sounds, followed by an open-mouthed grin. But then I hit upon a sound that made you laugh and laugh… It was a wonderful moment, not only because it was the first time you’ve every laughed continually like that, but also because it was already April 1 in Dubai. I think that was your birthday present to your father!
This past month marks the one year anniversary of finding out I was pregnant with you. Those early days and weeks (and months, if I’m being honest) were nerve wracking… wondering whether I’d be able to hang onto you and keep you growing inside me. And here we are a year later, with you growing up right in front of me!
The days are going by so fast, baby. Four months! Winter is a memory and spring is well and truly here. Your father will be home soon and you can laugh and laugh for both of us. Never stop laughing, baby. Life is good.
Happy four month birthday! Mama loves you.
You are four months and one day old today. I didn’t get a chance to write your letter yesterday because your Aunt Sheri was in town for the weekend. She hadn’t seen you since you were 12 days old! It was fun watching you with her, and watching her enjoy you as much as I do. (I often fear I’m a bit biased when it comes to how much fun you are and how easy your are and how beautiful you are. Oh, it’s sad to have become one of “those” mothers!)
Spring has arrived in Virginia and this month has meant more time outside. Sheri and I took you to the Norfolk Botanical Gardens on Saturday. When you weren’t napping, you seemed to enjoy the great big world. The park was certainly bigger than anything you’ve experienced so far! I’m looking forward to many outdoor days when your father gets home. Only five more weeks to go!
You went to the pediatrician on Thursday—your father’s 41st birthday, coincidentally—for your four month checkup and vaccinations. You’re weighing in at a little over 17 pounds now, monkey! Though I honestly expected you to weigh more since you feel soooo heavy to me! You handled the vaccinations like a champ and only cried for about a minute before you were smiling again. Whew! You don’t go back to the pediatrician until you’re six months old, thankfully.
So far this month you have started rolling over front to back and back to front, quite an accomplishment. You don’t do it often, but you’re starting to figure out that the rolling will get you closer to what you want. You’re a clever little monkey and have figured out how to grab onto things to pull yourself from your side to your stomach. Uh oh! The days of leaving you in the middle of the bed unattended will soon be over, I’m afraid.
You’re still sleeping well through the night, which is so wonderful. I was afraid of what they call the “four month sleep regression,” but if such a thing occurred, it only affected your daytime naps. You’re still napping pretty well, but your awake periods have stretched to two hours now. Your naps are all over the place—45 minutes to over 3 hours—but you total between 6 and 7 hours of naps a day.
You love tummy time and hold your head high, a steady stream of drool dripping from your bottom lip. Your usual smiley humor disappears when you’re in the tummy zone, though. Apparently, this is a very serious activity for you that requires intense concentration and maximum drool output. (The drool is all-powerful, I’ve discovered.) You kick your legs furiously, as if you can’t wait to crawl. Slow down, baby! There will be time enough for you to crawl and walk and run….
My favorite moment this month was last Wednesday night. We were talking to your father on the computer and I was making funny sounds to get you to smile and laugh. So far, your “laughing” has been brief a-ha sounds, followed by an open-mouthed grin. But then I hit upon a sound that made you laugh and laugh… It was a wonderful moment, not only because it was the first time you’ve every laughed continually like that, but also because it was already April 1 in Dubai. I think that was your birthday present to your father!
This past month marks the one year anniversary of finding out I was pregnant with you. Those early days and weeks (and months, if I’m being honest) were nerve wracking… wondering whether I’d be able to hang onto you and keep you growing inside me. And here we are a year later, with you growing up right in front of me!
The days are going by so fast, baby. Four months! Winter is a memory and spring is well and truly here. Your father will be home soon and you can laugh and laugh for both of us. Never stop laughing, baby. Life is good.
Happy four month birthday! Mama loves you.
Spring, Baby
Sheri and I took Patrick to the Norfolk Botanical Gardens over the weekend. The weather was perfect and Patrick enjoyed exploring the great big green world (as much as a four month old can explore, of course).
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Baby Babble
Oh, the cuteness. It breaks my heart sometimes.Patrick had his four month appointment today. (He'll actually be four months old on Easter.) This picture was taken while we were waiting for the doctor-- and before his vaccinations. (Which he handled remarkably well. I hope that never changes.) We were almost late to his appointment because I-- believe it or not-- overslept. Which is not an entirely accurate statement because I went to bed after midnight and was up at 1:30, 3, 5, 5:30 and 6:40. Technically, I got up way too early. But when I went back to sleep sometime after 6:40, I fully expected Patrick to wake me up with his baby calls somewhere between 7 and 7:30. I woke up on my own at 8:22 and he was still asleep. Which is also not entirely accurate, because I remember hearing him babbling to himself sometime after 5:30. (For the record, I woke up at 1:30 and 3 for no reason, 5 and 6:40 because of the elderly blind cat, and Henry needed to go out at 5:30.) Patrick is very good at putting himself back to sleep if he wakes up too early (translation: before I'm physically able to crawl out of bed). Of course, I was kind of counting on him waking me up this morning. Silly baby.
So, I jumped out of bed at 8:22, checked on him (still sleeping), brushed my teeth and hair, got dressed, put on some makeup, gently woke baby (opened his blinds, made some noise, touched his face), changed his diaper, took him downstairs, got him dressed, slapped a bib on him, warmed and fed him a bottle, called Jay on Skype, cleaned the litter box, let the dog out again, turned the television on for Lola (the bird who gets grumpy if the television isn't on), packed the diaper bag, loaded Patrick up in his car seat and we were out of the house at 9:12 and at the doctor's office at 9:27. Whew. (I wasn't sure if his appointment was at 9:30 or 9:45 and never did find out.) I could have cut 8 minutes off my time if I hadn't bothered to straighten my hair.
It's nice to be so quick and efficient when I have to be. It wasn't that long ago (almost four months!) that it took Jay and me over an hour to get ready, get Patrick ready and get out of the house for his first doctor's appointment. And we were still late.
I have certainly adjusted to life with baby. Funny how that happens.
The irony, of course, is that Patrick sleeps through the night and I still don't. Eight hours in bed last night and I got up five times. Five! People told me that taking care of a baby would be so exhausting that I'd probably sleep better at night. Of course, they forgot about the old blind cat who gets lost in my bedroom and the old deaf dog who is still recovering from his inner ear infection (and still needs help up and down the stairs). Not to mention my own crazy insomnia. But I'd rather Patrick sleep through the night than me. It most definitely works out better that way.
Except now I'm quite tired and it just dawned on me that I haven't managed to take a shower yet today.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Thursday, March 4, 2010
A Letter to Patrick, Three Months Old
March 4, 2010
Dear Patrick,
You’re a quarter of a year old today, baby! I know that’s not very old at all, but the time… it flies! And you have changed so much in the past month. I’m delighted and startled and even sometimes sad because it seems as if I barely get a chance to enjoy one new thing you’re doing before you’ve gone and added something else to your repertoire, practically over night! As I told your father this morning—just when I get used to our routine, something changes. You!
The biggest change in the past month has been your sleeping pattern. A month ago, your longest stretch of sleep was maybe five hours. One short month later and you have graduated from five hours… to seven hours… to nine straight hours of sleep! The first time it happened (two consecutive nights), I was online searching for the phrase “infant sleeping too much.” Yes, your mother is a silly woman sometimes. Even after I realized there was nothing wrong with you, I was a little sad to have missed out on that 5 AM feeding when we were both warm and sleepy and you would go right back to sleep after eating and cuddling with me.
Of course, that third night you were back to sleeping seven hours—which had also startled me, but not nearly so much as nine hours—and I got my 5 AM cuddle time back, but it was temporary. You’re now sleeping eight to nine hours most nights, with the occasional aberration. A few nights ago, you woke up hungry at 3:30 AM and sucked down two 4 oz. bottles. I suspect you simply hadn’t eaten enough during the day.
You’re still napping pretty well during the day, though the times and length fluctuate from day to day. That’s okay, my only goals for you were to get you to sleep through the night in your own crib and you are very successfully doing that. Yay, baby!
After two months of never being away from you for more than a few hours (and six weeks of caring for you by myself), I found a wonderful part-time babysitter. I had been so reluctant to hire a stranger to take care of you, and luckily I didn’t have to! I’ve known Ashleigh for almost nine years and it’s been wonderful having her here, knowing that she is taking good care of you. I get text messages about you throughout the day, keeping me updated on what you’re doing. I’m so grateful for the time to write and run errands (and even have the occasional lunch with a friend), but I’m also happy to come home to you after my few hours away. You seem to enjoy having another person to entertain with your smiles and babble, and that makes me feel good about my decision.
Speaking of babble, you’re talking up a storm these days! You were starting to coo a month ago, but now you are prone to giving lengthy (and serious) lectures. You have “discovered” your tongue and the various sounds you can make when you move it this way and that. I love listening to you, though your best talking seems to occur when you’re getting sleepy and I’m guilty of keeping you up longer than I should just to listen to you talk. Keep talking, baby. I promise one day I’ll understand every word!
Other developments include your growing interested in your toys. Not only are you paying more attention to the colorful toys that dangle from your playmat and the giraffe mobile over your crib, you’re actually reaching out to grab things! The butterfly toy that hangs in the laundry room (which is actually a dog toy bought for Henry, who had no interest in it), is most often your target for capture. You get your diaper changed on the counter in the laundry room, so you have plenty of opportunities to plot your strategy. You can now hit the butterfly with accuracy and manage to catch it in your hand often enough to delight us both. (Failure to hang onto it causes you great frustration, however.)
Your hands continue to be your dearest friends. You suck on them constantly and you do not discriminate—a finger is as good as a thumb is as good as the entire fist. I attempted to give you a pacifier last month when we were going through the last (and worst) of the fussy nights, but you weren’t interested in rubber (especially since it didn’t have milk in it!) when you could have your own hand. Your drool production is increasing exponentially, which results in wet clothes for both of us, but you don’t yet seem to be teething. You can take your time on that development, baby! I know teething will bring pain and fussiness and probably some sleepless nights—and I don’t want that for either of us!
You have started showing interest in rolling over in just the past week or so. You usually get halfway there, laying on your side with your fist in your mouth, then you stop, content to stare at whatever it is that prompted you to roll on your side. But yesterday while we were playing on my bed, you rolled from your back to your stomach—twice! I tried to get you to do it a third time so I could make a video of it, but you decided it was an event best left undocumented (though I do have a camera phone picture). I imagine you’ll be rolling over pretty regularly by this time next month. It’s a wonderful development, but I will miss being able to put you in the middle of my bed while I get ready in the morning. Try not to roll off the furniture, okay?
You still love your swing and your playmat and the ceiling fans remain favorite objects of distraction (as does anything on the television despite my best efforts to distract you from that evil box). Your father has enjoyed listening to you “talk” to him on the computer. Just two more months and he’ll get to enjoy you in person! Spring and summer are around the corner and I’m looking forward to seeing what your new favorite things will be when we venture outside. I suspect the ceiling fan in the gazebo will make the list.
You’re growing like crazy and weigh fifteen and a half pounds now! I packed away all of your newborn and 0-3 month clothes yesterday so I could make room for your growing wardrobe of 6 month clothes. That was a little sad for me, but I’m having so much fun with you now that I can’t be too sad. I did separate the clothes into the “possible future baby/give away” pile and the “keepsake” pile, because I can’t bear to get rid of a few of those precious newborn outfits, especially your brown stripey sleeper with the raccoon on it. Your mother is silly and sentimental, but those are good qualities to have in a mother, I think.
We’re doing really, really well, baby. Everybody says what a happy baby you are and I feel very lucky that you’re an easy, cheerful baby most of the time. It’s still exhausting for me to take care of you alone, even on the best days and even with a babysitter twenty hours a week. I have days where I long for more help and a few more hours to write, to read, to sleep. It is going to be wonderful to have your father home and I know it’ll seem so much easier when there are two of us to take care of you. We’re going to have so much fun! But no matter how tiring and difficult it might be sometimes, I suspect that I will look back wistfully on these early months and have only good memories of when it was just my little baby and me.
Happy three month birthday, Monkey. Mama loves you.
Dear Patrick,
You’re a quarter of a year old today, baby! I know that’s not very old at all, but the time… it flies! And you have changed so much in the past month. I’m delighted and startled and even sometimes sad because it seems as if I barely get a chance to enjoy one new thing you’re doing before you’ve gone and added something else to your repertoire, practically over night! As I told your father this morning—just when I get used to our routine, something changes. You!
The biggest change in the past month has been your sleeping pattern. A month ago, your longest stretch of sleep was maybe five hours. One short month later and you have graduated from five hours… to seven hours… to nine straight hours of sleep! The first time it happened (two consecutive nights), I was online searching for the phrase “infant sleeping too much.” Yes, your mother is a silly woman sometimes. Even after I realized there was nothing wrong with you, I was a little sad to have missed out on that 5 AM feeding when we were both warm and sleepy and you would go right back to sleep after eating and cuddling with me.
Of course, that third night you were back to sleeping seven hours—which had also startled me, but not nearly so much as nine hours—and I got my 5 AM cuddle time back, but it was temporary. You’re now sleeping eight to nine hours most nights, with the occasional aberration. A few nights ago, you woke up hungry at 3:30 AM and sucked down two 4 oz. bottles. I suspect you simply hadn’t eaten enough during the day.
You’re still napping pretty well during the day, though the times and length fluctuate from day to day. That’s okay, my only goals for you were to get you to sleep through the night in your own crib and you are very successfully doing that. Yay, baby!
After two months of never being away from you for more than a few hours (and six weeks of caring for you by myself), I found a wonderful part-time babysitter. I had been so reluctant to hire a stranger to take care of you, and luckily I didn’t have to! I’ve known Ashleigh for almost nine years and it’s been wonderful having her here, knowing that she is taking good care of you. I get text messages about you throughout the day, keeping me updated on what you’re doing. I’m so grateful for the time to write and run errands (and even have the occasional lunch with a friend), but I’m also happy to come home to you after my few hours away. You seem to enjoy having another person to entertain with your smiles and babble, and that makes me feel good about my decision.
Speaking of babble, you’re talking up a storm these days! You were starting to coo a month ago, but now you are prone to giving lengthy (and serious) lectures. You have “discovered” your tongue and the various sounds you can make when you move it this way and that. I love listening to you, though your best talking seems to occur when you’re getting sleepy and I’m guilty of keeping you up longer than I should just to listen to you talk. Keep talking, baby. I promise one day I’ll understand every word!
Other developments include your growing interested in your toys. Not only are you paying more attention to the colorful toys that dangle from your playmat and the giraffe mobile over your crib, you’re actually reaching out to grab things! The butterfly toy that hangs in the laundry room (which is actually a dog toy bought for Henry, who had no interest in it), is most often your target for capture. You get your diaper changed on the counter in the laundry room, so you have plenty of opportunities to plot your strategy. You can now hit the butterfly with accuracy and manage to catch it in your hand often enough to delight us both. (Failure to hang onto it causes you great frustration, however.)
Your hands continue to be your dearest friends. You suck on them constantly and you do not discriminate—a finger is as good as a thumb is as good as the entire fist. I attempted to give you a pacifier last month when we were going through the last (and worst) of the fussy nights, but you weren’t interested in rubber (especially since it didn’t have milk in it!) when you could have your own hand. Your drool production is increasing exponentially, which results in wet clothes for both of us, but you don’t yet seem to be teething. You can take your time on that development, baby! I know teething will bring pain and fussiness and probably some sleepless nights—and I don’t want that for either of us!
You have started showing interest in rolling over in just the past week or so. You usually get halfway there, laying on your side with your fist in your mouth, then you stop, content to stare at whatever it is that prompted you to roll on your side. But yesterday while we were playing on my bed, you rolled from your back to your stomach—twice! I tried to get you to do it a third time so I could make a video of it, but you decided it was an event best left undocumented (though I do have a camera phone picture). I imagine you’ll be rolling over pretty regularly by this time next month. It’s a wonderful development, but I will miss being able to put you in the middle of my bed while I get ready in the morning. Try not to roll off the furniture, okay?
You still love your swing and your playmat and the ceiling fans remain favorite objects of distraction (as does anything on the television despite my best efforts to distract you from that evil box). Your father has enjoyed listening to you “talk” to him on the computer. Just two more months and he’ll get to enjoy you in person! Spring and summer are around the corner and I’m looking forward to seeing what your new favorite things will be when we venture outside. I suspect the ceiling fan in the gazebo will make the list.
You’re growing like crazy and weigh fifteen and a half pounds now! I packed away all of your newborn and 0-3 month clothes yesterday so I could make room for your growing wardrobe of 6 month clothes. That was a little sad for me, but I’m having so much fun with you now that I can’t be too sad. I did separate the clothes into the “possible future baby/give away” pile and the “keepsake” pile, because I can’t bear to get rid of a few of those precious newborn outfits, especially your brown stripey sleeper with the raccoon on it. Your mother is silly and sentimental, but those are good qualities to have in a mother, I think.
We’re doing really, really well, baby. Everybody says what a happy baby you are and I feel very lucky that you’re an easy, cheerful baby most of the time. It’s still exhausting for me to take care of you alone, even on the best days and even with a babysitter twenty hours a week. I have days where I long for more help and a few more hours to write, to read, to sleep. It is going to be wonderful to have your father home and I know it’ll seem so much easier when there are two of us to take care of you. We’re going to have so much fun! But no matter how tiring and difficult it might be sometimes, I suspect that I will look back wistfully on these early months and have only good memories of when it was just my little baby and me.
Happy three month birthday, Monkey. Mama loves you.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Babes
Patrick at 12 weeks and his friend Sydney, at 4 weeks. I don’t think Patrick knew quite what to make of the little girl.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Patrick Goes to the Pediatrician
I'm posting these a bit late. Patrick went for his two month pediatric appointment (and first round of vaccines) on February 5. He handled it like a champ. In fact, he was all smiles and curiosity right up until the vaccines...
Curious: Oh, that's interesting. What is that shiny thing?
Nervous: A needle? Hmm. That looks... sharp.
Shocked: You want to do WHAT with that needle? Oh my!
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Time Wise
Now that I have a part-time babysitter for Patrick, I am finding it frustrating trying to figure out how to best utilize the free time I have. And by "free" I mean, baby-free, since I'm very much paying for this time. (And after two months of non-stop, 24/7 baby care with maybe 10 hours away from him total, it is money very much well-spent.) Ideally, I would spend every single minute of my babysitting time writing. But that doesn't allow for those other things I need to do which are better done without a baby in tow. Errands are so much easier when I can run in and out alone instead of having to heft baby and carseat (or snap baby and carseat into the stroller frame, since baby is now weighing close to 14 pounds and the carseat isn't light, either). Even when Patrick is sleeping or awake and quiet, it makes for a longer trip that's harder on my back.
So far, a balance between errands and writing seems to be working out, though I yearn for more time for both. I'd like to squeeze in a little adult social time, too, but that's secondary to the things that must be done. Today's five-hour block of babysitting time included picking up prescriptions at Target, a trip to Old Navy and writing. Five hours should be enough time for all of that, but... the wait at the Target pharmacy was 20 minutes. I spent half an hour in Old Navy (I'm in desperate need of some cool-weather clothing, but I seemed to have missed the end-of-season bargains because all that was left was crap) and walked out with two baby outfits and a pair of yoga pants for myself (to inspire me to do Pilates). I then went to Barnes & Noble, figuring a change of writing venue would be nice, but everyone seemed to have the same idea because the bookstore cafe was packed. I gave up on that idea and headed to my usual Starbucks, where I am now. I wrote some e-mail (writing related, mostly), chatted with Jay via Skype and have been writing (and blogging) since noon. I need to leave in ten minutes to be home by 3.
Half of my time today has been spent on writing stuff, the other half on errands and driving time. The driving time is annoying, but that's life in the suburbs. I could stay home for my five hours and spend the entire time writing, but I already try to squeeze in some writing time at home while Patrick naps and I like being able to leave the house (alone). Plus, I think hearing him fuss or cry would be distracting (and likely send me downstairs to make sure things were okay-- not because the babysitter can't handle it, but because I'd feel bad). I might still spend some days at home-- especially close to deadline times-- but I don't want that to be the norm. So, it seems that grouping my errands together might be the best way to maximize my time. Perhaps dedicating one block of babysitting a week to errands would make me less frustrated because I could spend all of my time (less driving time) writing on the other days.
The other problem I need to work through-- and I'm trying!-- is actually leaving the house when the babysitter arrives. I have been spending 20-30 minutes (45 on Monday) chatting with her and/or finishing getting ready and gathering my stuff. Ideally, I would be ready to walk out the door when she arrived, but that's not always possible with Patrick's schedule. This morning, however, there really was no excuse. Patrick was napping and I was packing up my laptop when the babysitter arrived at 10, but I still didn't walk out the door until 10:25. Oops. I will get better, though.
It's lovely to have the time to write and run errands and know that Patrick is being well cared for and will be a happy (or napping) baby when I get home. To be honest, it's still difficult to be away from him and I don't think having more babysitting hours would make me happier. I would just miss him more. Instead, I just need to make sure I'm making the most of the hours I have.
On that note, I'm out of here and headed home.
So far, a balance between errands and writing seems to be working out, though I yearn for more time for both. I'd like to squeeze in a little adult social time, too, but that's secondary to the things that must be done. Today's five-hour block of babysitting time included picking up prescriptions at Target, a trip to Old Navy and writing. Five hours should be enough time for all of that, but... the wait at the Target pharmacy was 20 minutes. I spent half an hour in Old Navy (I'm in desperate need of some cool-weather clothing, but I seemed to have missed the end-of-season bargains because all that was left was crap) and walked out with two baby outfits and a pair of yoga pants for myself (to inspire me to do Pilates). I then went to Barnes & Noble, figuring a change of writing venue would be nice, but everyone seemed to have the same idea because the bookstore cafe was packed. I gave up on that idea and headed to my usual Starbucks, where I am now. I wrote some e-mail (writing related, mostly), chatted with Jay via Skype and have been writing (and blogging) since noon. I need to leave in ten minutes to be home by 3.
Half of my time today has been spent on writing stuff, the other half on errands and driving time. The driving time is annoying, but that's life in the suburbs. I could stay home for my five hours and spend the entire time writing, but I already try to squeeze in some writing time at home while Patrick naps and I like being able to leave the house (alone). Plus, I think hearing him fuss or cry would be distracting (and likely send me downstairs to make sure things were okay-- not because the babysitter can't handle it, but because I'd feel bad). I might still spend some days at home-- especially close to deadline times-- but I don't want that to be the norm. So, it seems that grouping my errands together might be the best way to maximize my time. Perhaps dedicating one block of babysitting a week to errands would make me less frustrated because I could spend all of my time (less driving time) writing on the other days.
The other problem I need to work through-- and I'm trying!-- is actually leaving the house when the babysitter arrives. I have been spending 20-30 minutes (45 on Monday) chatting with her and/or finishing getting ready and gathering my stuff. Ideally, I would be ready to walk out the door when she arrived, but that's not always possible with Patrick's schedule. This morning, however, there really was no excuse. Patrick was napping and I was packing up my laptop when the babysitter arrived at 10, but I still didn't walk out the door until 10:25. Oops. I will get better, though.
It's lovely to have the time to write and run errands and know that Patrick is being well cared for and will be a happy (or napping) baby when I get home. To be honest, it's still difficult to be away from him and I don't think having more babysitting hours would make me happier. I would just miss him more. Instead, I just need to make sure I'm making the most of the hours I have.
On that note, I'm out of here and headed home.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
MacBook Pro + Skype = Connected Family
Patrick talks to his father every day. Technology is an amazing thing.
Friday, February 5, 2010
A Letter to Patrick, Two Months Old
Dear Patrick,
You are two months and one day old today, my little monkey! No, I’m not already falling behind on writing your monthly letter, I just wanted to wait until after your two month appointment with the pediatrician. You appointment was this morning and I don’t think either of us was happy to be there. But we both survived your vaccines and you only cried for a little while. Thankfully, you are napping peacefully now.
You’re now in the 90th percentile for weight, length and head circumference. As the doctor said—you couldn’t be more perfectly proportioned. As far as I’m concerned, you couldn’t be more perfect! Of course, I do wish you weighed just a little less. You’re at thirteen and a half pounds now, almost five pounds heavier than you were at birth! My poor back and shoulders protest when I have to haul you and your car seat in and out of your father’s truck. But you’re my big boy and I’m so grateful you’re healthy.
It’s hard to believe it’s been two months (and one day) since you were born. Those early weeks are a bit of a blur of exhaustion, frustration and—when I wasn’t tired or frustrated—moments of quiet joy. It was a roller coaster ride of getting to know you, learning how to take care of you and adjusting to the incredible changes you have brought to my life. After your father left, it was all I could do to take care of you and myself and the pets. I’m happy to say the second month has brought a little less exhaustion, a lot less frustration and more moments of joy.
I’m also getting more sleep at night than I was a month ago because you’re sleeping better. Right now, you sleep four to four and a half hours when I put you down for the night, followed by a two to three hour stretch after a bottle, followed by another hour to hour and a half before you’re up for the day. You nap pretty well during the day, but the naps are getting a little shorter as you are waking up to the world around you and don’t want to miss anything.
You’ve learned a few new things in the past month. First of all, you’re really smiling! It was hard to tell before if it was a smile, a grimace or gas, but now I’m sure of the real smiles. You don’t smile every time you see me, but when you do it melts my heart. I never get tired of those toothless, lopsided grins. So far, you’ve only giggled once while you were awake (and I have to say, giggling in your sleep is a little creepy) and it was while I was putting on your bib. You do enjoy eating! (You take after your mama, I think.) I’m looking forward to hearing your laughter on a regular basis.
You have become more “interactive” in the past few weeks, much to my delight. You coo and babble now, your little fist shoved into your mouth—sometimes both of them at once. Putting your hand in your mouth used to signal your hunger, now you do it just because you can—and it seems to make you so happy. You look at me more often and for longer stretches and, like your smiles, I look forward to the future when you seek me out to watch me instead of looking at me only because I’m right in front of you.
In the past month, I’ve gotten you a swing and an activity play mat, both of which entertain you. I didn’t think you would take to the swing, but after a bit you seemed to enjoy watching everything moving around you. Oh, and it has the added benefit of rocking you to sleep when you’re feeling fussy. You just got the play mat yesterday, but you immediately started wiggling and kicking to the sounds and lights and little dangling toys. You love riding in the truck and looking around (though the motion eventually lulls you to sleep) and I think you’re starting to make the connection between being put in your car seat and going for a ride in the truck.
I feel like you’re growing up too fast right before my eyes, baby. You don’t fit into any of your newborn outfits anymore and it makes me sad. In fact, you are wearing a few 3 to 6 month and 6 month outfits already, though they’re a little big. But despite your growth spurt, you’re still a little baby. You still put your fist in the air—power to the people!— accompanied by the super serious expression you get sometimes, your little mouth turned down at the corners in disapproval. You can’t hold your head up for more than a few seconds yet, but you’re getting better at it ever day (and get soooo frustrated when it wobbles in the opposite direction of where you want to look). You still love to stare at the ceiling fan (I think the fan is as exciting to you as your play mat, actually) and looking at the lamplight or sunlight through the window. I can’t wait for spring so I can take you outside!
As of yesterday, I can finally count on two hands the total number of hours I’ve been away from you—8! I think you’ll be getting a regular babysitter soon, at least part-time. I miss my writing schedule and it’s hard to haul you around on errands. I think I might like to go back to teaching in the fall and even if it’s only online I will still need blocks of time to work. Of course, I don’t know yet how I’m going to leave you with someone else on a regular basis. It’ll be good for both of us and it’ll be harder for me than for you, I’m sure. But I know you don’t really want to go to doctor’s appointments and the grocery store with me, right? (I’ll still take you to Starbucks, of course!)
I don’t know exactly when it happened, but sometime in the past month I fell in love with you, Patrick. It wasn’t love at first sight for me like it was for your father. Is that horrible to admit? By the time I fell in love with you as my baby bump, it was almost time for you to be out in the world. So it’s taken me a little while to get to know you on the outside of my body, but I’m in love with you now, little boy. How could I not be? You are so amazing. We talk to your father everyday on my laptop so he can see you and you can see and hear him—and you do respond to his voice, even if his image is a little blurry on the screen sometimes—and I tell him how you’re doing and how incredible you are. He misses you, but I’m excited for him because I know he’s going to fall in love with you all over again when he gets home.
Two months have flown by and I know that it’ll be December before I know it and you’ll be turning a year old. Don’t grow up too fast, sweet boy. As much as I’m looking forward to all the things you’ll be able to do in the next month, and in six months, and in a year… I want to enjoy what you can do right now and savor these moments with you. The cuddles and the coos and your little hand on mine are all I need right now.
Happy two month birthday, baby. Mama loves you.
You are two months and one day old today, my little monkey! No, I’m not already falling behind on writing your monthly letter, I just wanted to wait until after your two month appointment with the pediatrician. You appointment was this morning and I don’t think either of us was happy to be there. But we both survived your vaccines and you only cried for a little while. Thankfully, you are napping peacefully now.
You’re now in the 90th percentile for weight, length and head circumference. As the doctor said—you couldn’t be more perfectly proportioned. As far as I’m concerned, you couldn’t be more perfect! Of course, I do wish you weighed just a little less. You’re at thirteen and a half pounds now, almost five pounds heavier than you were at birth! My poor back and shoulders protest when I have to haul you and your car seat in and out of your father’s truck. But you’re my big boy and I’m so grateful you’re healthy.
It’s hard to believe it’s been two months (and one day) since you were born. Those early weeks are a bit of a blur of exhaustion, frustration and—when I wasn’t tired or frustrated—moments of quiet joy. It was a roller coaster ride of getting to know you, learning how to take care of you and adjusting to the incredible changes you have brought to my life. After your father left, it was all I could do to take care of you and myself and the pets. I’m happy to say the second month has brought a little less exhaustion, a lot less frustration and more moments of joy.
I’m also getting more sleep at night than I was a month ago because you’re sleeping better. Right now, you sleep four to four and a half hours when I put you down for the night, followed by a two to three hour stretch after a bottle, followed by another hour to hour and a half before you’re up for the day. You nap pretty well during the day, but the naps are getting a little shorter as you are waking up to the world around you and don’t want to miss anything.
You’ve learned a few new things in the past month. First of all, you’re really smiling! It was hard to tell before if it was a smile, a grimace or gas, but now I’m sure of the real smiles. You don’t smile every time you see me, but when you do it melts my heart. I never get tired of those toothless, lopsided grins. So far, you’ve only giggled once while you were awake (and I have to say, giggling in your sleep is a little creepy) and it was while I was putting on your bib. You do enjoy eating! (You take after your mama, I think.) I’m looking forward to hearing your laughter on a regular basis.
You have become more “interactive” in the past few weeks, much to my delight. You coo and babble now, your little fist shoved into your mouth—sometimes both of them at once. Putting your hand in your mouth used to signal your hunger, now you do it just because you can—and it seems to make you so happy. You look at me more often and for longer stretches and, like your smiles, I look forward to the future when you seek me out to watch me instead of looking at me only because I’m right in front of you.
In the past month, I’ve gotten you a swing and an activity play mat, both of which entertain you. I didn’t think you would take to the swing, but after a bit you seemed to enjoy watching everything moving around you. Oh, and it has the added benefit of rocking you to sleep when you’re feeling fussy. You just got the play mat yesterday, but you immediately started wiggling and kicking to the sounds and lights and little dangling toys. You love riding in the truck and looking around (though the motion eventually lulls you to sleep) and I think you’re starting to make the connection between being put in your car seat and going for a ride in the truck.
I feel like you’re growing up too fast right before my eyes, baby. You don’t fit into any of your newborn outfits anymore and it makes me sad. In fact, you are wearing a few 3 to 6 month and 6 month outfits already, though they’re a little big. But despite your growth spurt, you’re still a little baby. You still put your fist in the air—power to the people!— accompanied by the super serious expression you get sometimes, your little mouth turned down at the corners in disapproval. You can’t hold your head up for more than a few seconds yet, but you’re getting better at it ever day (and get soooo frustrated when it wobbles in the opposite direction of where you want to look). You still love to stare at the ceiling fan (I think the fan is as exciting to you as your play mat, actually) and looking at the lamplight or sunlight through the window. I can’t wait for spring so I can take you outside!
As of yesterday, I can finally count on two hands the total number of hours I’ve been away from you—8! I think you’ll be getting a regular babysitter soon, at least part-time. I miss my writing schedule and it’s hard to haul you around on errands. I think I might like to go back to teaching in the fall and even if it’s only online I will still need blocks of time to work. Of course, I don’t know yet how I’m going to leave you with someone else on a regular basis. It’ll be good for both of us and it’ll be harder for me than for you, I’m sure. But I know you don’t really want to go to doctor’s appointments and the grocery store with me, right? (I’ll still take you to Starbucks, of course!)
I don’t know exactly when it happened, but sometime in the past month I fell in love with you, Patrick. It wasn’t love at first sight for me like it was for your father. Is that horrible to admit? By the time I fell in love with you as my baby bump, it was almost time for you to be out in the world. So it’s taken me a little while to get to know you on the outside of my body, but I’m in love with you now, little boy. How could I not be? You are so amazing. We talk to your father everyday on my laptop so he can see you and you can see and hear him—and you do respond to his voice, even if his image is a little blurry on the screen sometimes—and I tell him how you’re doing and how incredible you are. He misses you, but I’m excited for him because I know he’s going to fall in love with you all over again when he gets home.
Two months have flown by and I know that it’ll be December before I know it and you’ll be turning a year old. Don’t grow up too fast, sweet boy. As much as I’m looking forward to all the things you’ll be able to do in the next month, and in six months, and in a year… I want to enjoy what you can do right now and savor these moments with you. The cuddles and the coos and your little hand on mine are all I need right now.
Happy two month birthday, baby. Mama loves you.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Patrick and the Amazing Musical Light Show
Patrick is two months old today. Doesn't he look happy?
The awesome play mat is the Baby Einstein Around the World Play Gym.
The awesome play mat is the Baby Einstein Around the World Play Gym.
Monday, February 1, 2010
More About Baby, Writing and the Meltdown I Will Have If I Don't Get a Break Soon
Today was another one of those days when Patrick napped a lot and right on schedule, taking two 3-hour naps, a 1 and 1/2 hour nap and is now taking another short nap before I put him down for the night. Which will ideally mean one 4ish-hour stretch, one 2ish hour stretch and maybe a 1-2 hour stretch in the morning. But experience tells me it'll be less because he's napped so much today. (Which means I probably should have taken a nap myself to compensate for tonight, but a) I don't always know he's going to nap this well and b) I'm so happy to have time to get a bunch of stuff done that I don't even think about sleeping.)
I read somewhere that babies tend to function on a 48-hour schedule and that if they sleep a lot one day, they'll be awake a lot the next. That seems to be true for Patrick. He slept like this on Saturday, but was awake most of Sunday. It's not so bad, especially if he's not particularly fussy. It's tiring, having no one to hand him to so I can get a few things done, which can be frustrating if there are things I need (or want) to do. But he's getting more interactive (for lack of a better word) and I enjoy watching him watch the world. Of course, he often has long periods of fussiness on the days when he sleeps less and that's no fun for either of us. I've also read that young babies shouldn't be awake for more than 90 minutes at a time, otherwise they get overtired and overstimulated. There seems to be some truth in that and I try to put him down for a nap at the 90 minute mark if he's not showing any signs of going to sleep on his own. It doesn't always work.
I got some writing in on Saturday while Patrick napped, but it was impossible to write yesterday since his naps were in the 30 to 45 minute range. That's just not enough time for me to focus on anything. (And I had other things to do during those short naps, like feed the pets, take a shower, do a load of laundry, etc.) What's worse, it's terribly frustrating to think he might sleep for a couple of hours and sit down hoping for a decent stretch of writing time and then have to quit after a few minutes. I've learned that if I get a day like today, with long stretches of time to be productive, I shouldn't waste it. I've also learned that I shouldn't expect to get two days like this in a row. So I know tomorrow will likely be one of those days where he'll be up most of the day and some of that will be fussy time. Sigh.
I keep going back and forth over childcare. I never expected to be the full-time, sole care provider, and that was whether Jay was home or deployed. I need to write and I think I want to go back to teaching in the fall. I can write at home on days when he naps well, but that's not predictable enough for me to have a real writing schedule. It will also get harder as he gets older and is awake more often. I'm not comfortable putting him in daycare, mostly for the health issues that seem to plague kids who are in daycare. He's just so little and I'm not in a hurry to expose him to colds and illness when I don't have to. Plus, I've grown rather fond of our time together-- especially as he's getting older and learning to play-- and I don't want to lose that.
I'm looking at part-time care, in my house. I can't see taking him to someone else's house-- I just don't think I would ever trust a stranger that much. I'm not even sure I trust a stranger in my own house, but I would feel like I have more control over the situation (and could spend part or all of the childcare hours at home writing/working, or drop in and out over the course of those hours). It's expensive, having a nanny. The going rate here is around $10 to $15 an hour, which I know is cheaper than it would be in a big city. That's not expensive out proportion to the work-- I know that even an easy baby requires a tremendous amount of energy and enthusiasm. And I'm a big believer in the adage that you get what you pay for. I have no desire to skimp when it comes to making sure my baby is taken care of. I did balk at the referral fee that a nanny agency charges. I realize that's how they make their money, but... wow. It's a lot.
I wish I could hire someone I know rather than a stranger. I'm dragging my feet on this even though I really, really need the help simply because I'm having a hard time with the idea that a stranger will be in my house, taking care of my son. Whether I'm here or not, that's just hard for me to accept right now. I know it's just new-mommy apprehension, but it's also my personality: I don't trust easily and I don't like having people in my personal space. But for the month of January I had five hours away from baby. That's it. And those five hours (over three different days) were spent getting my hair colored, going food shopping and visiting friends and their new baby in the hospital. All three times, I felt like I was rushing through what I was doing (and driving too fast to get there and back) because I don't like asking people for favors. I hate thinking that Patrick is crying and someone-- a friend-- can't calm him. Not because I'm worried about Patrick (okay, a little), but because I hate inconveniencing others and I know a crying baby is no fun. So, even though I made the most of those five hours and enjoyed the brief breaks away, it wasn't relaxing and it wasn't enough. I need more.
I don't feel like I can ask a friend to watch the baby while I go to Starbucks and drink coffee and write. Or go to a movie. Or get a massage. I feel like whatever babysitting offers I get from friends should be used to run errands and do chores, not write and relax. Don't ask me why. I guess that's another (annoying) aspect of my personality: I don't like asking for favors. If I ask for a favor, it's because I feel like there's something I really need to do. And as much as I really need to have some time to myself, alone with a coffee, a book to read and my laptop, I won't ask someone to babysit so I can have it. (Even if I had a long list of potential babysitters-- which I don't. I barely have a short list.)
So, at some point, when I've hit my wall (which apparently hasn't happened yet, despite the constant state of exhaustion and occasional crying jags and feeling like I have absolutely no life and I'm never going to write again), I will hire someone to take care of Patrick for around 20 hours a week. That seems like so much time, in contrast to 5 hours in 30 days. I can't even imagine it, right now. It would be so much easier (relatively speaking) if I had a job to go to. An office somewhere that was waiting for me to come off maternity leave and get back to work. But the writing and editing, and even the teaching, are flexible and subject only to my own self-imposed schedules and deadlines. I have to write. I just have to. And I know that some of depression-- because that's what it is, no matter how I dress it up-- is because I'm not writing and because I don't have a schedule to do the work that is important to me.
Patrick is waking up from his last nap of the day and it's time for a bottle and a story (and maybe a song) and those happy little sounds he makes while he eats, with his little hand resting on mine. I never get tired of those moments. For tonight, at least, the writing can waiting.
I read somewhere that babies tend to function on a 48-hour schedule and that if they sleep a lot one day, they'll be awake a lot the next. That seems to be true for Patrick. He slept like this on Saturday, but was awake most of Sunday. It's not so bad, especially if he's not particularly fussy. It's tiring, having no one to hand him to so I can get a few things done, which can be frustrating if there are things I need (or want) to do. But he's getting more interactive (for lack of a better word) and I enjoy watching him watch the world. Of course, he often has long periods of fussiness on the days when he sleeps less and that's no fun for either of us. I've also read that young babies shouldn't be awake for more than 90 minutes at a time, otherwise they get overtired and overstimulated. There seems to be some truth in that and I try to put him down for a nap at the 90 minute mark if he's not showing any signs of going to sleep on his own. It doesn't always work.
I got some writing in on Saturday while Patrick napped, but it was impossible to write yesterday since his naps were in the 30 to 45 minute range. That's just not enough time for me to focus on anything. (And I had other things to do during those short naps, like feed the pets, take a shower, do a load of laundry, etc.) What's worse, it's terribly frustrating to think he might sleep for a couple of hours and sit down hoping for a decent stretch of writing time and then have to quit after a few minutes. I've learned that if I get a day like today, with long stretches of time to be productive, I shouldn't waste it. I've also learned that I shouldn't expect to get two days like this in a row. So I know tomorrow will likely be one of those days where he'll be up most of the day and some of that will be fussy time. Sigh.
I keep going back and forth over childcare. I never expected to be the full-time, sole care provider, and that was whether Jay was home or deployed. I need to write and I think I want to go back to teaching in the fall. I can write at home on days when he naps well, but that's not predictable enough for me to have a real writing schedule. It will also get harder as he gets older and is awake more often. I'm not comfortable putting him in daycare, mostly for the health issues that seem to plague kids who are in daycare. He's just so little and I'm not in a hurry to expose him to colds and illness when I don't have to. Plus, I've grown rather fond of our time together-- especially as he's getting older and learning to play-- and I don't want to lose that.
I'm looking at part-time care, in my house. I can't see taking him to someone else's house-- I just don't think I would ever trust a stranger that much. I'm not even sure I trust a stranger in my own house, but I would feel like I have more control over the situation (and could spend part or all of the childcare hours at home writing/working, or drop in and out over the course of those hours). It's expensive, having a nanny. The going rate here is around $10 to $15 an hour, which I know is cheaper than it would be in a big city. That's not expensive out proportion to the work-- I know that even an easy baby requires a tremendous amount of energy and enthusiasm. And I'm a big believer in the adage that you get what you pay for. I have no desire to skimp when it comes to making sure my baby is taken care of. I did balk at the referral fee that a nanny agency charges. I realize that's how they make their money, but... wow. It's a lot.
I wish I could hire someone I know rather than a stranger. I'm dragging my feet on this even though I really, really need the help simply because I'm having a hard time with the idea that a stranger will be in my house, taking care of my son. Whether I'm here or not, that's just hard for me to accept right now. I know it's just new-mommy apprehension, but it's also my personality: I don't trust easily and I don't like having people in my personal space. But for the month of January I had five hours away from baby. That's it. And those five hours (over three different days) were spent getting my hair colored, going food shopping and visiting friends and their new baby in the hospital. All three times, I felt like I was rushing through what I was doing (and driving too fast to get there and back) because I don't like asking people for favors. I hate thinking that Patrick is crying and someone-- a friend-- can't calm him. Not because I'm worried about Patrick (okay, a little), but because I hate inconveniencing others and I know a crying baby is no fun. So, even though I made the most of those five hours and enjoyed the brief breaks away, it wasn't relaxing and it wasn't enough. I need more.
I don't feel like I can ask a friend to watch the baby while I go to Starbucks and drink coffee and write. Or go to a movie. Or get a massage. I feel like whatever babysitting offers I get from friends should be used to run errands and do chores, not write and relax. Don't ask me why. I guess that's another (annoying) aspect of my personality: I don't like asking for favors. If I ask for a favor, it's because I feel like there's something I really need to do. And as much as I really need to have some time to myself, alone with a coffee, a book to read and my laptop, I won't ask someone to babysit so I can have it. (Even if I had a long list of potential babysitters-- which I don't. I barely have a short list.)
So, at some point, when I've hit my wall (which apparently hasn't happened yet, despite the constant state of exhaustion and occasional crying jags and feeling like I have absolutely no life and I'm never going to write again), I will hire someone to take care of Patrick for around 20 hours a week. That seems like so much time, in contrast to 5 hours in 30 days. I can't even imagine it, right now. It would be so much easier (relatively speaking) if I had a job to go to. An office somewhere that was waiting for me to come off maternity leave and get back to work. But the writing and editing, and even the teaching, are flexible and subject only to my own self-imposed schedules and deadlines. I have to write. I just have to. And I know that some of depression-- because that's what it is, no matter how I dress it up-- is because I'm not writing and because I don't have a schedule to do the work that is important to me.
Patrick is waking up from his last nap of the day and it's time for a bottle and a story (and maybe a song) and those happy little sounds he makes while he eats, with his little hand resting on mine. I never get tired of those moments. For tonight, at least, the writing can waiting.
Surprise Package
Patrick got a present in the mail today and I couldn't resist seeing if he would fit in the box. He did.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
The Magic Six-Week Mark
We've passed it, actually. Patrick turned six weeks old on Friday. I have heard that six weeks is the magic milestone where babies (and life with babies) get easier. Of course, some people say it's eight weeks, others say it's three months. At least one person told me six months, but that balances with the one person who told me two weeks. Still, six weeks seems to be the most frequently quoted age. I'm here to report... they're right. Sort of.
After Patrick's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day last Tuesday, the week took a turn for the better. In fact, every day since Tuesday (knock on wood and whatever superstitions necessary) has been a pretty good day. By pretty good, I mean there have been no extended periods of fussiness or crying, no times when he couldn't be consoled by holding, rocking bouncing, changing or feeding him. After last Tuesday's all-day meltdown, this is a minor miracle not to be taken for granted.
The icing on the happy (or at least content) baby cake is that Friday night was the first night that I was able to put him to bed without a prolonged bout of fussing and crying. Previous to that, every night was a 2 to 4 hour chore of trying to get him down for the night. He's been sleeping in his crib since day 1, but he naps downstairs in his rocker during the day. The transition was a bit of an ordeal, no matter what time I attempted to put him to bed. I thought maybe it was something about his room (too quiet, too warm) or his crib (too big, too flat), but he wasn't having any problems sleeping once he was actually in there. I still don't really know what the issue is, but I've found the fix-- or at least a fix that has worked for the past three nights (and I'm knocking on wood again). Last night was his best night ever in terms of going to bed easily and not needing to be soothed once he was there. Of course, today he's waking up every hour or two and eating more than usual, so I assume it's his six-week growth spurt. He's fussier than usual, but nothing like last Tuesday. This is manageable and I don't feel like I'm losing my mind.
So yes, the six-week mark was a turning point of sorts. But I don't know if it's because Patrick has gotten easier or because I've recovered from having him and gotten a little better at this parenting thing. He is certainly interacting more with me-- smiling occasionally, making prolonged eye contact, snuggling against me-- which helps. But he's also crying and fussing less. Is that because he's six weeks old or because I've figured out what to do to keep him content? I don't know, but I'll take it.
This is not to say that it has gotten easy. Hardly. I'm exhausted and averaging about 4 hours of sleep a night. Part of the problem is how long it takes me to fall asleep-- if he sleeps for 3 hours, I might sleep for 2. Last night, he never slept more than 2 and a half hours, so I never slept more than an hour before I was getting up with him again. Tired. So very tired.
I had a much needed break planned for Saturday, with a massage and a movie scheduled, but my plans were derailed by illness (my generous babysitter, not me). I didn't realize how much I was looking forward to a break until it was taken away. Talk about inconsolable (me, not Patrick). Jay is nudging me to hire someone for part-time childcare. I keep thinking if only I had a few hours to myself I'd be able to forge ahead for another month, but I can't even get that little break right now. So I'm contemplating the options. I'm pretty sure I can't keep going like this until May or June when Jay gets home. The reality is that there are very few people I trust to watch my child and, for one reason or another, the few friends I do trust aren't available. I'm not sure how I can hire a stranger to take care of him, but that may be what I need to do. I've been resistant-- partially because Patrick is so young and partially because it's so expensive-- but I'm starting to think it might be the best thing for my mental health. Falling apart when a friend lets me down (even when it's unavoidable) is not good mental health.
So here we are, at just past six weeks since Patrick was a born and a month since Jay returned to Dubai. It's gotten a little easier and more manageable, to be sure. He's an amazing little creature, which makes up for a lot, including the sleepless nights and the assorted aches and pains associated with carrying a chunky baby for hours every day. I'm even managing to think about writing, editing and book promotion, so that's something. Maybe-- for right now-- it's enough.
After Patrick's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day last Tuesday, the week took a turn for the better. In fact, every day since Tuesday (knock on wood and whatever superstitions necessary) has been a pretty good day. By pretty good, I mean there have been no extended periods of fussiness or crying, no times when he couldn't be consoled by holding, rocking bouncing, changing or feeding him. After last Tuesday's all-day meltdown, this is a minor miracle not to be taken for granted.
The icing on the happy (or at least content) baby cake is that Friday night was the first night that I was able to put him to bed without a prolonged bout of fussing and crying. Previous to that, every night was a 2 to 4 hour chore of trying to get him down for the night. He's been sleeping in his crib since day 1, but he naps downstairs in his rocker during the day. The transition was a bit of an ordeal, no matter what time I attempted to put him to bed. I thought maybe it was something about his room (too quiet, too warm) or his crib (too big, too flat), but he wasn't having any problems sleeping once he was actually in there. I still don't really know what the issue is, but I've found the fix-- or at least a fix that has worked for the past three nights (and I'm knocking on wood again). Last night was his best night ever in terms of going to bed easily and not needing to be soothed once he was there. Of course, today he's waking up every hour or two and eating more than usual, so I assume it's his six-week growth spurt. He's fussier than usual, but nothing like last Tuesday. This is manageable and I don't feel like I'm losing my mind.
So yes, the six-week mark was a turning point of sorts. But I don't know if it's because Patrick has gotten easier or because I've recovered from having him and gotten a little better at this parenting thing. He is certainly interacting more with me-- smiling occasionally, making prolonged eye contact, snuggling against me-- which helps. But he's also crying and fussing less. Is that because he's six weeks old or because I've figured out what to do to keep him content? I don't know, but I'll take it.
This is not to say that it has gotten easy. Hardly. I'm exhausted and averaging about 4 hours of sleep a night. Part of the problem is how long it takes me to fall asleep-- if he sleeps for 3 hours, I might sleep for 2. Last night, he never slept more than 2 and a half hours, so I never slept more than an hour before I was getting up with him again. Tired. So very tired.
I had a much needed break planned for Saturday, with a massage and a movie scheduled, but my plans were derailed by illness (my generous babysitter, not me). I didn't realize how much I was looking forward to a break until it was taken away. Talk about inconsolable (me, not Patrick). Jay is nudging me to hire someone for part-time childcare. I keep thinking if only I had a few hours to myself I'd be able to forge ahead for another month, but I can't even get that little break right now. So I'm contemplating the options. I'm pretty sure I can't keep going like this until May or June when Jay gets home. The reality is that there are very few people I trust to watch my child and, for one reason or another, the few friends I do trust aren't available. I'm not sure how I can hire a stranger to take care of him, but that may be what I need to do. I've been resistant-- partially because Patrick is so young and partially because it's so expensive-- but I'm starting to think it might be the best thing for my mental health. Falling apart when a friend lets me down (even when it's unavoidable) is not good mental health.
So here we are, at just past six weeks since Patrick was a born and a month since Jay returned to Dubai. It's gotten a little easier and more manageable, to be sure. He's an amazing little creature, which makes up for a lot, including the sleepless nights and the assorted aches and pains associated with carrying a chunky baby for hours every day. I'm even managing to think about writing, editing and book promotion, so that's something. Maybe-- for right now-- it's enough.
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