Sleep in Heavenly Peace

Maybe its the season getting to me. Maybe I have been watching Dr. Suess's "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" cartoon too many times. But theres just something in the air that makes you appreciate your family and all you have around this time of the year. My eyes well with the tears when I think about how this is Lucas' first Christmas and I am so excited. I have been singing Christmas Carols to him all weekend.

I remember when I was a kid, I used to hate it when I would go to family Christmas parties and everyone would say to me, "I remember when you were this big." And they would hold their hands inches apart or like, 2 feet from the floor. I usually would just smile and shoot past them, humiliated that they reminded me of that. Why would I want to be reminded that I was once small enough to fit in your hands when I am trying to be all grown up??

But now, I have empathy for those people. Watching Lucas grow as much as he has in the past 7½ months has made me realize what a shock it is to see that. Voicing the shock seems to help it sink in, especially when you feel like you havent changed at all.

There he is, chugging into toddlerhood, and I feel like it was just yesterday that I found out I was pregnant. Hes been so lenient with us...as new parents. Hes been there through the mistakes, the accidently letting him roll off of the couch and all of those other things that make you wonder if they will even live to see the age of 1. But there he is, thriving and growing and grasping new concepts, saying new words. Sure, he still loves his pacifier. But pretty soon, it will be something else. And before I know it, he will be wanting to borrow my car. I remember about a month before he were born, being in the hospital with complications due to my foot, and just listening to his heartbeat. That steady, wonderful sound that put my mind at ease. And now, I can hear his breathing when hes sleeping on me in the recliner. All of these things are going to be the things that I will remember no matter what happens or how things change.

And at the end of the day...hes still my son...even if in my mind, I am already watching him ride away into his own life.....

One Day in the chaos of my life....

What did you do today? That's usually the first question I ask Lucas when we are all strapped in the truck and on our way home. Like I expect my 7 month old to answer me. Sure. He would answer "DaDa" And shake his rattle. Most of the time, he is holding the stuffed giraffe on his car seat bar. I think that its his first nonrelative friend. But, its this question that gets me thinking: What did I do today? Uhhh...hmmm. Lucas vomiting on my outfit and making me change as I am getting him into the car seat swirls in my mind. A few trivialities. Oh! And then I remember: 1.) I got Lucas ready. 2.) I dropped him off. 3.) Went to work and ran around like a chicken with no head. 4.) Picked Lucas up from the babysitters. I swear, my explanantions need to leave room for long, rambling footnotes. These 4 things dont even begin to explain one day. Not one. They sum it up. But to really get the gist of it, to really get to the meaty part of the day, you need details. Not just the mundane stuff. Unfortunately, its the mundane stuff I remember. Thats the beauty of being a working mom. You do so much that you cant always remember everything.

Like 1.) I am already running late for work, Lucas has thrown up on my top and down my pants, so I am in the bedroom, yanking jeans out of drawers, shirts off of hangers, looking in the mirror and knowing that I am fat, and just hoping that this diet continues to work. Rush out of the bedroom, get jacket, get keys, get to the door, go back and get giggling Lucas, convince Bjourne he doesnt want to go to work with me. Get to the truck.

2.) Get stuck in traffic...brake lights as far as the eye can see. Radio playing crappy music....search for cd mix...finally, an hour later get to the babysitters...set everything down on the floor with massive relief, because I have practically no upper body strength (but why don't I? I'm always heaving.) Explain what they need to know about Lucas' morning, feeding schedule and instructions and then rush to work.

3.) Get to work. Do so many different things that I dont even remember half of them.

4.) Pick Lucas up from the babysitter and put him in the truck, crying. I sing to him: "Baby Belooooga, Baby Baloooooooga, I love you so!!!" I will spare you the rest of the details. It usually works. Sometimes it doesnt. So, I say to him: "I wish I had a mechanical pair of arms, right here," and I tap the dash board. "That way, we could safely wrap you up in them and you would be happy." Then we start singing Silent Night. Usually after the first verse, hes asleep.

But even that doesnt correctly sum up my day. I guess you just have to be there.

Lucas is doing wonderful with eating solid foods. Unfortunately, this has led to the weaning process. Hes better about it then I am. I am the one crying and in the 5 stages of grief.
Denial: No, no. Pumping twice at work and only getting 4 ounces altogether is normal and fine. No worries.
Anger: What the hell kind of crap is this?? 7½ months of breastfeeding, and this is the thanks I get?? What a crock!
Bargaining: Okay, no big deal. I'll just pump 3 times at work. That way I can get a little more milk.
Depression: Why am I such a failure??
Acceptance: You nursed him for 7½ months when you had nothing but trouble in the beginning. You didnt give up. Never, ever. And its normal....deal with it and move on. You are a wonderful mama.

So, thats the end of breastfeeding for Lucas. And its a little painful. Just a little. But the bright side is, I might can wear some of my prettier bras. Lets face it: maternity bras are not pretty. Least of all sexy.
Lucas is crawling just a little bit. He says DaDa and doggy and bye. Its so cute. And theres just something about the way he looks at you with those big blue eyes and you just know that he cant wait to be like you, to do what you are doing.

Why didnt someone tell me that they grow up this quickly??

Everyone Has a Stop Sign

I know, its been a little bit since I last checked in. I really do try to post at least once a week, but things get so hectic, sometimes, I just dont get around to it.

Thanksgiving was a blast. It could have been better, but as usual, my selfish, self centered addict of an uncle tried to ruin it. Hes like a disease. One you think has gone away and learned its place, but then all of sudden it flares up and steals the attention. Or hes like a poisonous weed, sucking the happiness out of everything. Anyways, for Lucas' first Thanksgiving, it was fine. He got to spend some time with his Uncle Larry. Lucas adores Larry. He kept laying his head on Larry's chest. Whether Larry thinks so or not, some day, he will be wonderful with his own kids. Lucas is eating solid food, and he felt like such little man sitting at the table, eating his peas and sweet potatoes and rice cereal. I am a little sad that hes growing up so fast. And I feel like I am not even there to see it. I am at work for 8 hours of the day. We spend roughly 2 hours in the car. And that only leaves about 3 hours at home. And by then, I am exhausted. I feel like I should be interacting with him. Not plopping him on a quilt with his toys and sitting in my recliner, staring at the television. And then comes the next question: where does this need to always be on come from? Does the pressure come from society? From within ourselves? Yeah, probably ourselves. In addition to society and tv shows. Before Lucas was born, I became a discovery health channels freak. It was like an obsession. I watched every maternity ward. Cried and prayed through every episode that I wouldnt be like that woman. No drugs and screaming. I would bury my eyes in the pillow when some poor woman received an epsiotomy. And then they cut to the new family at home, and the baby is now a toddler, and the mother is chasing him around, all clean and crisp and beautiful. And here I am now, with a 7 month old and some days, feeling like I havent showered in 10 years. And its strange, because we dont expect our kids to be on all of the time. In fact, we live for the moments they are asleep. If Lucas is tired or overstimulated, and I try to make eye contact to engage him some more, he will look over my shoulder. I try again, and he shifts his eyes down and goes into his own little daze. I imagine him holding up a small stop sign where under the word STOP, hes scrawled: "Bothering me! I'm busy processing reams of new information. Try again later." Just yesterday, we were at a birthday party, and he had been passed around more times than a football. Finally, he just sat in my mothers arms, and at that point, his stop sign would have said: STOP: "engaging with me! I'm all socialized out."
And just like Lucas, I vary in what I can give day to day. Sometimes, I am the energetic mother. Holding Lucas on one hip, making dinner, and cleaning the bathroom. Other times, I am the over stressed mother, dealing with all of life's little quirks, and trying to soothe the teething baby while other women commiserate silently, trying to help me through it. And sometimes, I am just the disheveled mother. Somebody's wife, mother, somebody's daughter, just sitting in the recliner, utterly exhausted. And at that point, my stop sign would be facing me, saying STOP. Just stop. No one can be on all of the time. Ignore the parenting books. Ignore the feeling that your son will be missing out if you arent on the floor demanding that he stop eating his sock. Sometimes, babies dont need any stimulation from you.

But, the other night, while innocently playing on the floor, he was bitten by a dog. (My computer screen just sprouted eyes and rolled them in pure exasperation. Okay, not bitten, but nipped accidently.) I was so outraged that this dog, this mutt, had bitten my child, that I snatched him off of the floor and held him to my chest, his poor little screams muffled as I held him tightly. Right before it happened, they were sitting there quietly, eyeing eachother lovingly. I wonder if Lucas felt as betrayed as Anna did in Chasing Liberty when she found out Ben was hired by her father to protect her. I wanted to jump in the owners face, and yell at them, my spit flecking their cheeks, "Why weren't you watching your damn dog? What kind of owner are you??" The problem was, the owner was me. It was right after dinner time, when Jeremy usually takes the dogs out for a potty break and time to romp. Lucas was lying on the floor playing. Jeremy brought them back in, and Julien flopped next to Lucas. Everything was fine. Then all hell broke loose. Lucas had reached over and grabbed a fistful of Juliens fur. And proceeded to yank it back and forth and up and down with all of the force he had in him. Julien just snapped at him. And I dont blame him. I have told Lucas hundreds of times not to do that. But hes 7 months old. He doesnt understand. But it scared him. I jumped out of the chair and shouted, "Julien, you bit him???!" Julien ran to Jeremy whimpering. acting like he was properly chastised. I, on the other hand, was furious. "Julien, we dont bite, we dont bite at the baby." I must have said 85 times. We have to be gentle with Lucas, and I am telling Lucas at the same time, you have to be gentle with puppy. He doesnt understand. Talk about talking out of both sides of your mouth. I went Julien and pinched his lips together and stared him in the eyes and said: WE. DO. NOT. BITE. EVER. NEVER. AGAIN. DO. YOU. UNDERSTAND. ME.? He was the first to break eye contact. Lucas was fine. Everything was fine. Except me. Bjourne is the most easy going dog. He just goes with it. Lucas tries to poke his eyes out, Bjourne just gets up and lays somewhere else. He usually fixes Lucas with the you-can't-get-me-here stare, because-you-can't-crawl yet, look. If Lucas tries to jam his cahonas into his throat with his foot, Bjourne rolls to his stomach. Bjourne is just like that. Julien, on the other hand, takes these things as invitations for rough play. I take it as an invitation to whip some dogs butt. He likes to decide on the stressful days to come in from being outside and poop on the floor. Then, as I am on my hands and knees cleaning it up, he comes in and tilts his head, almost like he is saying, "Just trying to give you a little distraction." I have enough of those, believe me.

We went last Wednesday and picked out our first live Christmas tree together. I took the camera, and Jeremy was ragging on me: "You are not going to take pictures in Lowes, are you?" I say yes, I absolutely am. And I proceed to explain to him that I want pictures of Lucas' first tree. And he tells me he doesnt even remember his own first Christmas tree. Exactly. If his mother had taken pictures, he would remember. Lucas will. I will be sure of it. So, we looked at different trees, and I snapped pictures, of Lucas pointing his fist at some, kicking some. He has to touch everything with his foot first. In fact, thats how we Christmas shopped for Jeremy. I held up two options, which ever one he kicked is the one we bought. It was great.

We are going to decorate the tree tomorrow night. I am sure I will have some wonderful things to tell you about that. Until then...