Swimming

Gracie loves swimming. She loves swimming possibly more than anything in the world, including her blankie, this weird spaghetti that Stephen makes for her and she inhales by the fistful, and waking up at 5am. And people, G LOOOVES waking up at 5am.

Our last class was at a YMCA on the border of the city and the 'burbs. It was a teeny class, just Grace, a set of twins, and a little boy who only came two or three times, tops. The teachers were great, the water was warm, and G was in heaven. When it was time to register for a new class, they had changed the times around, and there were really no GOOD times for her sleep schedule. I was bummed, but decided to chance it with the saturday morning class...which filled up with members before it opened to the general public. I seriously agonized over what to do next, like my decision would make or break her Olympic dreams. I finally decided to sign up for a Sunday morning class at the Y down the street- not as nice, the time isnt' as good, they lump together all the parent/child age groups, but they had an opening. Okay then.

...aaaand I promptly missed the first class. Because the new session started the very next day after our last class at the old location, she would have had back-to-back days with swimming. Which, for the record, she would have loved, but I just didn't think it through. Woops. Combine that with the fact that we're not going next week and I assume we don't have class on Easter, and we are only going for five classes. And that probably seems like it should be disappointing, but...it's not.

The class is bigger. The pool is smaller. It's LOUD in there, sooooo loud. The water is positively FRIGID. The teacher is...fine. Not very nice. She walked up to us as we got in the water and said, "OK, you weren't here next week. what's her name? How old is she? OH. Is she afraid of the water?" She asked as Grace plunged her whole face in and cackled with glee. Right. Where our other class was songs and games, this class is drills. "Time to float! Make a circle! Have them jump!"

The other parents are not very friendly. There is one nice mom, and a nice enough dad, but the other parents, well, yeah, they're not friendly. I miss our old friends!!

I checked, and we can't get our money back. So we'll go. Gracie was the only baby NOT bothered by the icy cold waters of the pool, and even though her mommy wasn't as happy, you know what? She totally didn't notice a difference. She smiled and kicked and clapped just like she did at her old class. And I'm pretty sure the swimming lessons aren't for me.

Coping Skillz

For all my shmoopy, sappy, "I love being a mommmmmyyyy" days, there are still some days that just suck. You know the days, when they wake up at 4:30, take lousy, short naps, and are totally uninterested in any activity that doesn't involve sticking a fork in a socket, pulling heavy objects onto their heads, climbing bookcases, or other life-threatening activities? And you think, how the HELL am I going to make it to bedtime? I cannot do this. Not today.

We had one of those days on sunday. Fortunately, I knew EXACTLY what to do.



(Taken from the archives. Since it's, you know, freezing cold outside and also she has a lot more hair now.)

She's fourteen months old today. She still doesn't walk, though she loves to swim. She doesn't reeeally talk, though she jabbers like crazy. Most importantly, with notable exception above, this baby SLEEPS:)

Nature is Weird

When I was in high school, I got dive-bombed by a bird. I did not do anything to said bird. I was just walking down the sidewalk and it buzzed me. I was completely freaked out. My dad told me I probably walked too close to its nest and it was defending its babies. I said the bird was an idiot, because what the hell could I possibly want with her stupidass babies?

Today I was loading groceries into the back of the car while Gracie sat in the cart, when a creepy old man came walking across the parking lot. I swear he was walking directly towards us. He never even made eye contact with me, and walked right past us into the store. He probably didn't even notice us.

We'll never know for sure, though. Once he was past us with his back turned, I jumped on his neck and pecked his fucking eyes out.

All By Myseelllllffff

Today I was alone in our house for the first time since Gracie was born. I guess if you want to get technical about it, the first time I was ever alone, since I was hugely pregnant with her when we moved in.

It was...weird. I was sort of excited to be able to run on the treadmill, clean the house, and not have to worry the noise from the tready would bother her while she slept, or she'd figure out a way to swallow arsenic while I was wiping down her floorboards. But when Stephen and his mom walked out the door with her, I had a moment of panic. It took everything in me not to squeal, "Ugh, wait wait wait, let me go get dressed, I'm going with you guys!"

Watching her leave is always the hardest part. It's like that when I go to work, too.

After that, it was oddly fine. Just...fine. I didn't slide into the front hallway in my underwear singing a played-out Bob Seger song, but I didn't weep and gnash my teeth by the window, either.

It might even be time to spend the night away from her...

(hellnoiamnotready.)

How I Complete Recertification

Read article and answer question

Check email

Skim totally boring article for answer to question

Check facebook

use antibacterial hand gel even though I am sitting in my office and there are no patients here

Check email

Curse asshole friends for not emailing me and giving me a reason to not work on recertification

Ooh! Blog! I can update my blog!

Feel intense self-irritation for typing most boring blog post ever

Go back to stupid stupid boring dumb recertification test.

One of Those Days

Even though Grace was an exceptionally tough newborn, I know the reality is that having a brand-new baby isn't easy for anyone. It's exhausting and overwhelming with very little reward. They don't smile or nuzzle or make fun noises, really, there's just screaming and not-screaming. And obviously it gets better, so, so, so much better, but every once in awhile, you have one of those really hideous days. And it almost sucks more than when you're waking up every two hours and the baby only stops screaming if you walk in circles around the dining room table while wearing your orange t shirt (ONLY the orange t shirt) and holding her facing out. Because, the thing is, when you have to wear a groove in the floorboards every damn night to keep the baby from crying, you just get used to everything sucking. You take joy in the little things (showering, eating food, etc). Then, life starts to get better and you look back and think, "Daayummn, that sucked. So glad THAT is over."

But it's never over. And some days just suck. Sometimes, babies decide they don't need to sleep at night OR nap. Sometimes, they decide they don't want anything to do with you. Sometimes, that happens on the same day that you kind of just don't feel very good to begin with.

Today was a not-very-fun day. And I know it's stupid to complain, there was nothing exceptionally bad or difficult or anything like that. It just...I don't know. It's just one of those things, I think. For me, it can be totally overwhelming, until I just stop and say, ok. Today sucks. It's not the end of the universe, it's just a sucky day.

(fer the love of god, can tomorrow be less frustrating?! criminy.)

Mommy Wars

As I was walking out of work last night, I caught a glimpse of Grace's birthday picture, stuck inside my ID case. I looked at her pudgy little cheeks and thought, I'm so proud we made it a whole year with breastfeeding.

...and then I instantly felt like I had to qualify that. To myself?! Yeah, I know. Anyway. Because breastfeeding is up there with vaccines, cosleeping, and circumcision in the world of mommy wars. When we want to be hard on each other, we chooses any of these topics to judge each other, look down on other people's decisions, and assure ourselves that our way is best and anyone who disagrees is wrong. And, gasp, maybe they don't even CARE!!!

It's not okay. We have to stop being so shitty to each other. And the thing is, I think we all know that. But we're all so insecure about what we're doing, and looking for validation that we're doing the right thing, and sometimes the way we do that is by looking down on other people's decisions. Other times, we've decided something after careful thought and research, and our choice seems like the ONLY choice. And sometimes we're just being assholes.

So I instantly feel guilty for being proud of something like nursing for a year, because it feels like I'm looking down on all the other moms who chose differently. And I'm really not. I mean, when I feel proud about having run a marathon, I'm not looking down on everyone who didn't, and nobody would think that for a second. Nobody would say, "Yeah, well you know, I tried really hard to run a marathon and I coudln't," or "You know there are other valid choices besides running a marathon. Walking a 5k isn't rat poison." (Ok, that analogy doesn't play out as well, heh.) So why do I have to qualify this? Is it something so totally unique and personal about motherhood that makes us all feel so defensive of our choices?

I am proud that I nursed Grace for a year. It was a lot of hard work, teaching her how to latch on, coaxing her back when she went on strike, pumping for what felt like hours at a time, carrying around extra weight for a whole year so I wouldn't risk my supply, and on and on. And I can be proud of that without judging anyone else, without thinking they made the wrong choice or judging them. But it doesn't really feel like it...

I don't have anything profound to say here, obviously, just something that's been rattling in my brain since yesterday.