Monthly Archives: April 2012

Anxiety update

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Okay, I know it has been less than 48 hours since my big “I have horrible anxiety” post, so it’s not like I can give a real update with measurable results. However, for those who may have been wondering how I am since putting it out there in the open, the answer is “a little bit better”.

It isn’t one of those things that fixes itself the moment you let it off your chest. I feel some relief from the burden of keeping it all to myself, though, and that’s not nothing. I’m still feeling a lot of the anxiety and still getting frustrated with myself for not being able to magically stop my child from screaming (realistic expectations of oneself FTW), but now I can see that it might not last forever. 

I want to thank everyone for the calls, texts, comments, and e-mails of support. While I wasn’t glad to see that so many others are dealing with the same emotions, I am glad that maybe now we can all help each other out and not be so afraid to admit what we’re feeling. A special thank-you has to go out to the members of my “Facebump” group, all of whom have given me so much hope for a near future that isn’t tainted by panic attacks. I love you ladies, and I mean that sincerely and not just in an internet-y “loves ya!” way. 

I will end this post with the following image, because every time I look at it, I feel a little bit better (and also because it’s adorable and I want to show off the cuteness of my kid some more):

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Mommy’s little helpers: the kitchen

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So I asked a bunch of my mommybuddies for tips that allow them to save time and money around the house. I got so many responses that I had to divide them up by room! Here are the best tips for the kitchen:

SAVE TIME BY…

  • Brewing coffee right before bed, if your coffee maker doesn’t have a timer. The flavor is just fine after sitting overnight, and all it takes is a quick reheat (or just put it on ice) and you’re good to go! Plus, then it’s ready if you need a pick-me-up in the middle of the night if you’re like me and are too tired to stay up but too wired to sleep after a feeding.
  • Preventing splatters in your microwave: when reheating, cover food with a wet paper towel.
  • Cleaning as you go. Keep a bag or a bowl handy to toss scraps, peels, and packages while you cook so you don’t have a scattered mess.
  • Making larger meals and freezing a portion to set aside for busy nights.

SAVE MONEY BY…

  • Using half the recommended amount of dishwashing detergent. Unless there are heavy stains, your dishes don’t really need so much soap (and this will help keep dishes from looking streaky or having buildup).
  • Menu planning. Yeah, yeah, this is the tip every blogger cites, but it’s for a reason. I planned a weekly dinner menu for the first time recently (I used to just go to the store and have a free-for-all), trying to match ingredients to my best ability. The result? An entire week’s dinners for $27! I used some ingredients that I already had, like frozen chicken breasts and rice, added in some new ones, and saved a ton of money!
  • Using coupons. Duh, I know, but I’m the queen of clipping coupons and forgetting them. Now I keep them in the diaper bag!
  • Buying in bulk. I used to think it was silly for a small family like ours to buy in bulk, but now I’m eating those words. For example, our local market sells six chicken breasts for $11-$13 depending on weight. At Sam’s, I can get almost twice the amount of chicken for the same price!
  • Making your own cleaner: fill a spray bottle halfway with equal parts vinegar and lemon juice, then top with water and mix (DO NOT use vinegar on granite, though).
  • Using cloth wipes and towels instead of paper towels.
  • Using cloth napkins.
  • Saving plastic takeout containers to use in place of Tupperware.
  • Writing your shopping list on the back of opened bill envelopes.

Addressing my anxiety

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When I started this blog, I promised myself I wouldn’t make it all happy-happy-happy all the time. I’d try to be as real as I reasonably could be (because, let’s face it, some things just aren’t appropriate to discuss on a blog). So I’m going to admit to something that I have still not completely come to terms with:

I have had horrible, at times all-consuming anxiety since the birth of Ethan.

I’ve always had anxiety – never to the point where I had panic attacks or needed medication, but just enough to be really annoying. I tend to freak out and harp on things for far longer than their expiration date. I’m incredibly hard on myself and often find myself consumed with worrying what people think of me, if I’m doing things right, and generally trying to be as perfect as possible. After deciding to leave college (long story which I’ll tell some other time), a lot of that anxiety lifted, as I felt free for the first time in several years. Sure, it meant that there were a dozen new things to worry about – paying back loans, finding a big-girl job, trying to decide if I’d ever go back and finish my degree, the list goes on – but I was free to address them and figure them out.

I’m not saying that I feel like I’m on lockdown now that I’m a mother, but the fact that I can no longer do things on my own terms and in my own time has been difficult to face. Last night, I came home hungry, thirsty, and very tired. Before Ethan, I would have gotten myself some food and water and relaxed on the sofa. Now, however, I needed to change his diaper, get him a bottle, and rock him to sleep before I could do any of those things. And last night, he decided to have a very loud, very long meltdown that I could not for the life of me make go away.

And I hit my breaking point.

As soon as Adam got home from work, I handed Ethan over to him and locked myself in the bathroom for a little good old-fashioned, towel-over-the-face scream-crying. I then basically went fetal in our bed and cried myself to sleep. I don’t remember the last time I cried so hard. I think it was shortly after my grandfather passed away. I’ve been mostly holding back those tears for weeks now, and I think the combination of exhaustion and stress just hit me all at once.

I started realizing how much I have been panicking as a new mom. Yes, most of the time I’m just fine and perfectly happy, soothing my son without batting an eye and genuinely enjoying time with my baby. I even like changing poop-filled diapers, and no, I’m totally not kidding. I love everything about my little boy and I can’t get enough of him…except when he has these long, drawn-out, screaming fits that I can’t control. Generally, they only end when Adam takes over. I have spent weeks worrying that maybe Ethan doesn’t even like me that much. Maybe I can’t comfort him at all. What kind of mother can’t comfort her own child? Maybe I’m not a good mother.

It kills me that those thoughts enter my head, because deep down, I know they aren’t true. I’m as good a mother as I can possibly be. I care for my son. I adore him. I do all the things that the books and our doctor say we should do to aid his development. I play with him and read to him and sing to him. I kiss his chubby cheeks every chance I get. I make sure that he is always fed, dry, warm, clean, and cared for in every way I possibly can. I’m not a bad mother. And yet I find myself constantly thinking that I am.

A couple of weeks after Ethan was born, I started wondering if I had some postpartum depression. I knew it was perfectly normal to be weepy, anxious, and generally feel entirely wacky in the weeks immediately following the birth of a baby. It makes sense, after all – a woman’s body goes through so much during pregnancy and birth, and then the thing causing all that weirdness is suddenly on the outside and needs round-the-clock care. It’s a lot for anyone to deal with, and I’m not Superman. I knew it would be hard and that I’d be stressed. I was usually content, but when the sadness hit, it hit hard. I would spend hours forcing back tears and staring helplessly at my baby as he cried, trying to figure out what I was forgetting or what I was doing wrong. It got so bad that sometimes my hands would shake as I forced emotion back down.

It was when these feelings didn’t fade after two weeks that I started wondering if perhaps it was more than just the “Baby Blues” after all. That thought scared me. I’ve never and would never judge another woman for postpartum depression or anxiety, but here I was, judging myself for the mere possibility of having it. You know that old cliche “you are your own worst enemy”? There’s a reason we say it. It’s true. I cannot give myself a break lately. When I do have a break, I spend most of it worrying about my abilities as a mother.

So I’m going to try and really do something about it. I’m going to allow myself to cry if I need to. I’m going to take care of my body (my appetite has been incredibly diminished since Ethan was born and I suspect that part of my problem is lack of proper nutrition). I’m going to allow myself at least an hour a day to relinquish all parental duties and do things like read, watch TV, take a long shower, or take a nap without once inquiring about Ethan or feeling guilt over it. Adam knows what he’s doing. He’s a wonderful father, and frankly, it’s good for both him and Ethan to have some time together without my interference. Most importantly, I’m going to allow myself to be honest and open about this, because I’m not alone and it’s stupid to act like I am. And if none of these efforts solve the issue, I’m going to talk to my doctor about it.

I really hope this works, and I really hope I start feeling better soon. I want to look back at this time as a time of challenges that I managed to face and fix, rather than a time of overwhelming panic attacks. Most of all, I want to remember that I am a good mother, and that the best thing I can do for Ethan right now is to make sure that I am there for him, in body, mind, and heart.

Questions for Ethan

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Why do you spit our your pacifier if you know it will freak you out and make you scream? You’re perfectly capable of holding it, even in your sleep. What is that about? Is it a power thing?

Do you have some sort of sixth sense that connects directly to my attempts to fall asleep? Because I had just gotten into bed when you pooped a mountain. Is there a reason that couldn’t have happened when I was already up?

I just assume you’re aware of how cute your dimples are and the power you can wield with your little grins, so all I need to know is: do you plan to use that power for good or evil?

I’m pretty sure you stop crying as soon as Daddy holds you so that you can trick him into thinking he’s a baby whisperer. How close am I to the truth?

I smell pee. But I do not see pee. Did you pee or am I hallucinating?

How can you sleep in the utter chaos that is Cartwheels and Coffee, and how can I learn to do the same?

Why is there a kid wearing what looks like a bulletproof vest on the playground? I don’t actually expect you to know the answer to that one, I’m just curious.

Also.

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I’d just like to say that the $3 bottle of Tisdale cabernet sauvignon is actually pretty delicious. Or maybe I went nine months without wine. Either way, I’m happy. Don’t know why I felt the need to create a separate post for that little tidbit of information, but hey. I’m just a free spirit that way. You can’t contain me. I’m like a bird. 

Mommy’s little chunkster!

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First off, I’d like to say just how proud I am of Ethan for taking his shots like a champ. He had one in each thigh and only cried for a moment (he calmed down as soon as I picked him up). Good job, little Tomato!

Now on to the part where it’s totally acceptable for me to call my child fat.

Ethan has grown to 22″ and now weighs 10 lbs. 8 oz! I knew he was in a growth spurt when he downed 7 oz. of formula without batting an eye. I,  however, batted both. Several times. I would have been worried about overfeeding if he hadn’t waited six hours before taking another bottle – perhaps we’re just going to hit the 8-ounce mark early and call it good. Which I’m fine with, because it would mean he’ll probably be sleeping through the night sooner rather than later.

And now for something completely unrelated to baby.

HAVE YOU BEEN WATCHING “MAD MEN”? WHY NOT?!? THIS SEASON IS ALL MANNER OF CRAZY. Spoilers below.

Between Joan finally telling Greg where to go, Lane Pryce beating the snot out of Pete Campbell, and that whole drug-induced episode on Sunday, I am left reeling. I absolutely adore the show and while this season is so far not my favorite, I can’t help loving the direction it seems to be going. And that specific direction is known as “where the hell ever it feels like”. I have no clue where we’ll be by the end of the season, and in the past I’ve had at least some theories. I love the curve balls being thrown this time around. Also, MOAR ROGER ON LSD PLZ.

And on a completely “I blog, therefore pay me” note…the Blogmakers gave me a score of 8. Send sponsorship in a little silver parachute and I’ll hook you up.

In all seriousness, I am interested in advertising for people, and if you have a business you’d like to promote, just let me know and I’ll send you the details. I’m trying to keep it as local as possible since there are so many fantastic local folks/businesses that need attention! Nothing like a little shameless shilling to get you through your day. Blame the cost of formula.

Because screw sleep, that’s why.

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What a weird day. 

Last night, Ethan decided to be a newborn again. We could not figure out what he needed, it took forever to get him to go to sleep, and he woke up about a dozen times. It made for a very frustrating and exhausting night. Finally, around 9:00 AM, I took him into the living room, let him lie on my chest (on his tummy. I know. Bad mommy. But the kid needed to sleep and I figured as long as his airway was clear, it was okay), and we both took a nap. We didn’t wake up until almost 1:00 PM. Good thing it was a rainy Sunday or I’d really feel like a bum!

I was fully expecting the rest of the day to be hard, but Ethan seemed to feel so much better. He has been full of smiles and snuggles, cooing, loving his Tummy Time, and generally just chilled out. And now he’s sleeping like an angel. I guess babies, like full-sized adults, just have those weird insomniac nights where nothing is okay. I know this will make me sound like some kind of robot or alien, but I seriously find it amazing to see just how much like adults babies really are. 

Now, I’m not unfamiliar with newborns. I’ve cared for several throughout my life in a babysitting capacity. While parenting is pretty different, this does mean that I went into motherhood with a lot more experience than most people get. And beside the newborns I looked after, I’ve generally been around infants and small children my entire life. I tend to gravitate towards the cute, so I’m used to kids of all ages. I really didn’t think they could surprise me anymore, but there you go. Ethan surprises me all the time. Everything from the expressions on his face (which, squee, so cute) to the way he reacts to things amaze me. I think it is really hitting me that babies aren’t just babies, they really are teeny-tiny adults. 

Maybe this perspective is what makes me treat kids the way I do. I’m not really one for baby talk and I’ve never been overly coddling towards any of the kids I babysit. I’m fairly no-nonsense, and I always try to treat children with the same respect I would show an adult. That’s how my parents always treated us. We weren’t just “the kids”, we were valued, respected, and often treated as adults. That’s not to say that we were expected to act like grown-ups or that my parents were irresponsible with us in any way, it just means that they didn’t necessarily sugarcoat stuff. They always answered our questions, whatever they were, and always gave us an answer. They just explained things in whatever way would make sense to a child. There was never any hiding of the truth if we asked a direct question. We weren’t sheltered from reality, nor was a puppies-and-rainbows reality created for us. We learned about things like pain, injustice, and “grown-up stuff” (as we generally referred to topics like sex, drugs, alcohol, etc) in ways that we could comprehend at whatever age we had reached. 

I’ve always appreciated that. My parents always gave me privacy and respect. I never worried that they’d go into my room and read my diary. I always knew they’d explain things to me, a luxury some of my friends did not experience. One friend said that her mom didn’t tell her about sex until she was fourteen (!)…of course, she already knew about it long before then, but apparently her mother basically pretended it didn’t exist. If there were references to sex in the movies or TV shows they were watching, she would fast-forward or mute. That’s an extreme example, of course, and I know it just stems from wanting to protect your kid, but seriously? I was about six when I asked about sex, and my mom explained it to me in a child-friendly way. No beating around the bush, no putting off the conversation, no panic. She just gave me the basic rundown, got me a book or two, and we called it good. 

I fully intend to treat Ethan this way. Kids deserve respect, they deserve privacy, and they deserve truth and reality whenever they can get it. I’m not saying ignore your kid and make him jaded to toughen him up or something, but I’m saying don’t read his journal and answer his questions when you can. Find the answers when you can’t. I think it’s one of the few ways to ensure that he’d turn out halfway normal. The kids I grew up with who were either overprotected or left to their own devices too often were the ones who were really screwed up. The ones raised with similar styles to my parents were only moderately screwed up, just like me. 

Oh, wow. I just reread this entry and I am kind of amazed at how much of a ramble it really is. Probably because my sleep schedule is so entirely ruined at this point that my sanity is starting to check out after about 2:00 AM. Please forgive me, because I’m totally posting this without any attempt to edit. Enjoy the ride. 

Six truths about early motherhood (that took me by surprise)

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In the spirit of my previous “Six truths” post, I thought I’d do a follow-up regarding the first six week of Ethan’s life on the outside!

1. I sleep. Kind of.

This is probably the one that surprised me the most.  I was fully expecting to be one of those zombified new parents who couldn’t form a coherent sentence and whose home was in shambles and who looked like death. While I do have my days, it’s way better than I was anticipating. Now, I know that’s partly because I’ve had some help and partly because Ethan is a decent sleeper (knock on wood), but I can’t help but think that my fears were exaggerated and a bit unfounded. All new parents must get some sleep, otherwise we’d all be hospitalized at least twice before the kid hit two months.

I know there are parents out there who really aren’t sleeping, and those who are barely getting by on two hours a night, so please don’t think I’m ignorant of that. Like I said, we’ve had our days/nights. When I imply that I am getting enough sleep, what I really mean is that I am getting enough to function, plus the occasional nap when the stars align just right. I’m definitely not getting enough consecutive sleep – before long, I think Ethan may need to have a sleepover at Gigi’s house so that Mommy and Daddy can get a night of uninterrupted rest. In the meantime, though, we’re handling things fairly well considering what challenges we are facing regarding the amount and frequency of sleep we are getting. So far, so good.

2. I don’t mind sharing.

I really thought I’d be the mom who never even wanted to hand her baby over for a ten-minute snuggle with a relative, but right from the start I have been comfortable sharing Ethan with others. At first I was afraid that this meant I was a bad mother or that we weren’t connecting properly, but then I realized that it was a good thing. It means I’ve accepted the fact that I can’t hold him 24/7 and that I need a break now and then. Not that I didn’t cry my eyes out for half the night when he slept over at my mom’s, because of course I did. And I downed almost an entire bottle of wine trying to calm my nerves (and to make it impossible for me to drive over there at 3:00 AM and take him back). But I had no issue with leaving him for a date night, and I’ve never gotten antsy about letting others spend time with him.

3. I love co-sleeping…sometimes.

I love Adam and I love sharing a bed with him. He’s warm and snuggly and doesn’t mind when I pass out in a way that means I take up half the bed, and that’s because he’s awesome.

That said, Adam has had to work until about 2:00 AM for a few nights since Ethan was born. On those nights, I’ve locked Percy out of the bedroom, prepped a couple of bottles and put them on the nightstand, pulled the diaper pail over to my bedside, and set up a changing station at the foot of the bed. Then I proceeded to make up a space for Ethan and share the bed with him. And it was glorious. We had wonderful snuggle time and I never had to leave the bed to take care of him, which meant I was far more rested by morning than I likely would have been otherwise.

This surprises me because I’m not into co-sleeping as a practice (just personally. I don’t care what others do, and in fact, I think it can be a lovely thing. It just isn’t for me). I know every kid is different, but I once babysat a kid who co-slept with his parents for a couple of years, and trying to get him to go to sleep was a nightmare. I didn’t “breathe like Mommy”, so he freaked out a few times. Obviously, that’s not the case for most kids, but it stuck in my mind and totally turned me off to it as an option. Plus, I’m a little territorial and I like my bed to be my bed. So while I don’t plan to change my mind and suddenly become a co-sleeper, I’m definitely looking forward to the occasional slumber party while Daddy is working late.

4. I’m savvy.

I used to not be able to shop sales because it was too much of a headache to figure out. Now it’s a necessity. And it turns out that I’m pretty good at it. Not only am I savvy in the store, but I’m savvy with my kid. I’ve gotten good at figuring out what his different cries mean, new ways to comfort him when he’s upset, and other weirdo sixth sense Mommy stuff. It’s a little freaky, but it’s pretty cool.

5. I feel like Betty Draper, if she were a happy person.

“Were” a happy person? “Was”? I really should know this. English major fail. This is why I don’t have a degree, folks.

Anyway.

You know how, apart from all her schizo crazy desperate housewife stuff, Betty was always pretty fabulous? She always looked great, kept a spotless house, and cooked fabulous meals for her family? Well, I’m not saying that I actually do all of that, but I’m certainly trying. And what’s more, I’m enjoying it. I’ve already talked about my housewifery, so I won’t go into it much more. But I will say that I never really felt like that at all until Ethan was born. I used to have almost no interest in things like organizing the laundry and making sure the dishes are always current, but now it feels like second nature to me. I might be able to chalk it up to delayed nesting, but I’ll take it. The place looks a lot better than I used to be able to manage.

6. That mushy love stuff is true.

You know all that sappy, Hallmark-y stuff about how you figure out the meaning of life when you look into your baby’s face and your heart grows three sizes and the love you already had for your family just multiplies?

Yeah. It’s all true. I know it sounds sentimental (and it is), but it’s absolutely true. It actually hurts when I think about how much I love Ethan, and I just love looking at my little family and seeing how naturally we all come together. I’m not saying I’ve figured out the mysteries of the universe via motherhood or anything, but I feel like I might be coming a little closer.

Formula feeding FAQ (Or how I learned to stop worrying and love the bottle brush)

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Formula feeding vs. breastfeeding. The debate rages, and it rages loudly. Of course, we all know breast is best. Let’s just get that cleared up right now: I’m not saying that formula feeding is better. Not at all. I would have breastfed if I had been able to (more on that in a bit). I know that breastmilk is absolutely healthier for babies…that’s why I have such mixed emotions even now, almost six weeks (!) after Ethan was born. A lot of people have asked me a lot of questions about why we are formula feeding, so I thought I’d take a leaf out of this blog’s book and try and knock as many of them out here as I can. If you are interested, read on!

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I want to start a theatre.

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I’ve wanted to do this for my entire life, but now I’m really itching to do it. I want to open a theater here in Bon Air.

I grew up in Bon Air and have always adored it. It’s a beautiful part of town that still has a lot of its charm from its days as a Victorian vacation spot. There are some great restaurants and locally-owned shops, and it’s close to just about everything. The one thing we’re missing? Live entertainment. I know we must have some somewhere over here, but it’s hard to find it. If it’s out there, I haven’t found it yet outside of the schools.

When I was in high school, a lot of my friends were interested in trying to get some professional and community theatre credits, but their parents wouldn’t let them audition. This was usually because it was just too inconvenient for them to go “all the way downtown”…but for some, it was because “downtown is too dangerous.” Okay, I’ve worked at and/or attended shows at every theater in Richmond and Petersburg at least once. I’ve never felt like I was in any kind of danger. I’m not quite sure why so many people seem to think that the moment you cross into the city limits you’re going to get mugged. It was a shame to see my very interested and talented friends be kept away from the opportunity to experience professional theatre.

While I don’t get the fear of Big Bad Downtown Richmond (don’t drunkenly stumble down dark alleys and you’ll likely be okay), I do understand the convenience issue. A lot of parents are already struggling to balance family activities, and I don’t know a single person who isn’t insanely busy these days. That’s another reason why I think this side of town could really benefit from a theater…it could open doors for a whole new crop of people and provide a more convenient location for actors and technicians who have moved to this area!

I know it’s incredibly difficult to start a theatre company. I know it will take a lot of learning and sudden business know-how on my part. I know that I certainly can’t do it on my own…but I also know that if I don’t at least try to make this happen, I will regret it! There are so many talented people living a spit away from us (seriously, Bon Air is quickly becoming the spot to where young theatre couples move and make babies happen). I know that if this happens, it could really be something special.