Welcome to Motherhood!

My mind has been stolen.

I still have my brain, but it isn't functioning quite the same. I am pretty sure my mind is floating around out there somewhere. The one that graduated valedictorian, magna cum laude, and got her Master's. I am pretty sure it is next to that flip flop I can't find for the life of me.

I recently read (or maybe it was a while ago...again, my mind is missing. It could have been years ago, really.) that everyone talks about how your mind goes to mush when you are pregnant, and you get pregnancy brain. And what they don't tell you is that YOU NEVER GET YOUR MIND BACK. (If the person that said this is reading this, let me know. You are my hero.)

IT'S TRUE.

Sometimes I wander into a room and forget why I came in there. Oh wait, it gets better. After a couple of dumbfounded minutes, I give up and go back to what I was doing. Then I will remember and go back into the other room, only to realize...I have forgotten again. After about the third time, I give up. Sometimes I am determined, and I will let it go to 6 times. True story.

So I am pretty sure that when that baby popped out, my mind popped out with him and rolled under the hospital bed. In all the commotion, I am pretty sure it got thrown out with the bedsheets.

And you know what went with it? THE ABILITY TO RELAX.

I used to enjoy filling up the tub with bubbles, pouring a glass of wine and watching SATC episodes on my laptop everynight to unwind. (Relax, the computer was always on the closed toilet or counter. I wasn't THAT tipsy.) I can't do that anymore. For several reasons.

First, I can't go anywhere in this house while Isaac is here and in a different room without hearing him cry. He is most times not even crying. But I hear him in my mind. I am constantly listening for his cries, so subconsiously, I rush through whatever I am doing. Monitors don't help. I have tried.

Second, our bath tub here is ginormous and I would drown. I can't get comfy or I will drown. Plus you know, I can't consume as much alcohol while I am nursing.

Even when I am in the house by myself, I can't relax. I try to catch up on some DVRed shows (because I can never watch shows when they are airing. DVR was invented by a mother. I am sure of it.), and I can't focus on them because I am thinking about 10 million other things that I should be doing instead of watched the DVRed shows. Every time I close my eyes at night, I see things I should be doing. If I wasn't so exhausted\, I would probably haul myself out of bed to do them. Really.

I must need to try some meditation classes or yog or SOMETHING. I need to learn to shut this busy mind off and escape somewhere where I don't hear imaginary baby cries or see dust bunnies blow across the floor amongst the crushed kitty crunchies and gerber puffs. And where I can cut out of work a few hours early without having to recrunch our budget in my head to see if I can actually afford to do so without forcing my hsuband and baby to eat ramen for dinner. I am pretty sure this land doesn't exist.

How do I know this?

Um...because I am a mother.

So fellow mommies, fellow bloggers, ANYONE. HOW DO YOU RELAX? HELP ME!!!!!!

I will say I do enjoy naming all the things I can now do one-handed though. It's staggering and impressive.

Stolen Moments

This morning I didn't get up when the alarm went off at 6 am. I heard it. And I woke up and prepared myself to get up.

But then I felt the little baby boy cuddled at my side, all warm and snuggly since about 4:45 when I positioned him for his morning feeding. My heart melted and I reset the alarm for 6:30. I spent the next 30 minutes cuddling my baby, holding him, nuzzling him, and just inhaling his baby smell. I didn't go back to sleep. I just closed my eyes and relished my sleeping angel.

The alarm went off and we both woke up this time. It was time to start the day. My heart broke again at daycare, as his sad little face watched me go back to the car and leave him. I was late for work. I was only about 10 minutes late (no elaborate hair styles or make up today...).

But I didn't care. It was the best 30 minutes I have spent in a long time. It made me crave more. And it made me think about some changes I can make. Changes to better my life and that of my son. Today is now filled with soul searching.

I don't just want stolen moments.

Eight

I have an eight month old baby boy.

WOW. 8 months already.

Yes, Isaac has hit his 8 month mark. I look back at the past 8 months, even the past month alone, at how much he has changed.

He has teeth! FINALLY THANK YOU GOD. His bottom two front teeth have come in. He still has 2 eruption cysts for a few more. Here's hoping those come in soon!

I took him for his flu shot shot a while back. He didn't even cry. I distracted him by blowing in his face. Anyway, at this appointment he weighed 18 pounds 2 ounces.

And he's mobile! He is balancing on all fours and scooting backwards. Every day I expect to see him shooting forward. I have been baby proofing like crazy...and I may or may not have found Pre.cious Plan.et outlet plugs. He also sits up upsupported and tries his hardest to get into that position by himself. He's just not quite there yet.

His vocabulary has become quite vast, just not in context. He says dada, hi, mamo (I think this is mama. But it comes out maaaaamoooo), and hot. This is my fault. I sing Nelly's Hot in Herre to him when changing him. And I noticed that when I do, he says Hot, Hot, Hot! And I swear that yesterday while Ben and I were both home and he was in his jumperoo, he said "thank you" which sounded like "ank ooo." He blows all kinds of raspberries and also makes a high pitched gurgling noise, a "brrrrrrrrrrrr" of sorts. It's hard to describe. But I hear it in my head and it makes me smile. :)

He uses both hands together and independently. He will pick up things with both hands together and individually, and even something in each hand at the same time. He is trying to figure out how his toys actually work. He loves pushing buttons on things. Whenever I mix his cheerios and puffs together, he separates them out. It is so fun to watch him "work it out" in his mind. He loves animals. He loves "Handy Manny" and starts laughing when we sing the song to him, which he can totally identify. If he isn't paying attention and I start an episode for him, when the music starts he automatically turns his little head and smiles. He also loves Wh.eel of F.ortune. Yep. And I let him watch it. He loves watching the wheel spin and the letters appear. Shut up, it's educational!

We are still breastfeeding exclusively. Eight months down. I really want to make it to 12, but if we get to nine with no problems, I will be happy. At 10 months, I am going to start pumping exclusively....I think. I am just so hesitant to change things that are working for us...also for him to grow up in any way. He is eating solids like a champ. He has definate favorites in squash, peaches, avocados, and peas. He finger feeds himself banana chunks, cheerios, puffs, and yogurt melts. We have started small chicken and carrot chunks, but the texture is throwing him off. He still has his own spoon while he eats and he is sticking it into his food and eventually getting some into his mouth. We are working on the sippy cup. He definately knows what it is, but is not that adept at it yet. He is great at holding his bottle, though.

We need to work on his sleeping habits. He is still waking up at night and I just can't let him cry it out. I have excuses galore, mostly "he's teething and in pain" or "he doesn't feel good" or "we will try it this weekend when we can get more sleep." I know, I know. I just have to bite the bullet. Most times he just needs a little comforting, but others he really is hungry. I just don't know what to do. He occassionally sleeps through the night when he is really tired, but not very often. He is still sleeping in a 4-5 hours chunk when he goes down and then wakes up one or two times after that. He sometimes falls asleep soon after I pick him up, but sometimes not until he has ate a little. He doesn't want to be put down but fusses if I am holding him.

And he still hates pacifiers. Unless he picks it up himself in his playpen. Which, incidently, he doesn't like most time. He likes to be free.

He is still in 6-9 month clothes and size 2-3 diapers (god bless you, Pampers for the inbetween size). We scored alot of Rob.eez on Eb.ay. I love those! And he can't pull them off his feet like socks. But sorry, not paying $30 a pair.

He has such personality now. It becomes more and more evident every day. His preferences stand out, as well as his dislikes. It is so amazing to watch him grow into his own person but so bittersweet. I still can't bring myself to pack up the basinett. I still look at it at night and it twinges at my heart. I know I say this every month, but seriously, where the hell does the time go?

I'm A PC

The majority of Isaac's family lives thousands of miles away. We knew that it was going to be rough on everyone, having the first grandchild, nephew, great grandchild, so far away. And we knew that having a baby would put a hinderance on the amount of time and money we could spend traveling.

In a effort to make things a little better, Ben and I purchased web cams for both sets of our parents last Christmas. That way, they can see the baby and vice versa. And it started right away. Like, when I was in labor at the hospital right away. Everyone saw the baby hours after he was born.

It was hard when Isaac was itty bitty newborn size, and even before he could sit up unsupported (oh, did I mention he has been doing that for weeks now?). It is way more fun now because he can focus on the computer screen and what is moving on it. And he even does tricks.

Well kinda. :)

Anyway, he has become quite adept and I think he needs to be on one of those windows commercials. :) Something like:

"Hi. My name is Isaac. My family lives real far far away from me. My mommy and daddy need a good computer that has lots of memory and a fast processor because everyone needs to see the thousands of photos they take of me. And they gotta see me in action, so it needs a built in webcam with wireless capabilities cause I move real real fast and they have to follow me around.

I'm a PC. And I'm 8 months!"

So....now I just sit back and wait for the contract to come in right?! :) Who do I call about this?

Time

Time goes really really fast.

I mean, duh, right?

But seriously, it goes really fast.

And I feel like ever since Isaac was born, it has upped it's speed of passing several thousand notches. There is never enough time anymore. I need about 10 more hours in my day.

I used to be hyper-organized and motivated. And now I am just...not. It's not that I don't try to be. It's like something gets lost in translation between me and my mind. I have millions of things that I need to do, and technically have time to do, I just can't focus.

It's wasting time. Seriously wasting time. Time that is flying by. Time that I don't have to waste.

It's sloppy. And I hate it.

I have always been an advocate for changing what you are not happy with in your life (Ok, not always, I had a few blips...but that's another story). I don't feeling like I don't have any control over my life. I don't like that most days I have zero motivation. It tells me something is drastically wrong.

I am not happy with the way things are going. I know there are some things I can't change and don't have control of at this point. I am trying to learn to relax and just not harp on some things. Like when something goes awry and I have to have it fixed RIGHT NOW and I can't focus on anything else until it's taken care of. This usually happens on a Friday evening and involves parties that cannot be reached until Monday.

I can't blame PPD for everything. It's only part of the problem. And I refuse to be defined by it. It doesn't change who I am.

I used to be really good at balancing. I color-coded my planner. I was a wiz at time management. I mean, I could teach 2 bio labs, do my thesis research, take my own classes, work almost full time, plan my wedding, and maintain my apartment and relationships.

I can't do that anymore. I have cobwebs in my kitchen that have their own cobwebs. I have clothes in bags that haven't been touched since they were purchased. I haven't talked to some of my friends in what feels like centuries.

My brain goes in 50 million directions at once. I am not sure if it is sleep deprivation on top of PPD on top of something else on top of something else. For example, while pumping I was thinking about the proposal that needs to go out next week, what I need to do for Mary Kay, what I can make for dinner, that I still have to order Isaac's photo prints, all while trying to catch up on blogs (on my blackberry) and singing a song in my head that has been stuck there all day.

I want my motivation back. I don't want to be wasting time, letting precious moments slip by untouched. They could be spent doing things way more constructive, relaxing, or with my baby. They could be filled with a million things that they are not.

I often change my mind on which direction I want my life to go, who I want to be. It changes as my life changes. It changes to accomodate new things.

I have some ideas on what I want next.

No more wasted time.

Dear Victoria's Secret

Dear Victoria's Secret:


For 5 years, I worked for you. I sang your product praises. I sold your credit card. I worked long hours training your employees all across the board, setting your floorsets to perfection and prepping visits, reviewing numbers and learning product information. I worked your insane schedule that involved coming into work at 4 am and other times leaving at 4 am. I had your required 24/7 open availability and accepted your 4 month holiday blackout period. For 5 years, you owned me. And I was fine with it. I thought you were a fantastic company that took care of its own. I defended your integrity because I believe that your employees mattered. I believed we weren't just numbers. I made some of my greatest friends through working for your company. I believed in your products and developed a brand loyalty that was very strong. In my opinion, no one made a seamless pushup bra that was invisible under clothes better than you. I would have bought it whether or not Adri.ana Li.ma was wearing it.

Even when I left to pursue other endeavors, I was still loyal. I was still blind.

For the friends that remain in your clutches afraid of retribution, I speak up. For those who don't, I stand beside in solidarity.

I understand the nation is in a state of economic crisis. Sales are down everywhere, and companies are making cuts to save money and as many jobs as possible. When I heard the news that your company was doing the same, I understood. The retail market has been hit hard, and layoffs were undoubtedly inevitable as were pay cuts. I listened as calls came from friends when they learned news of their positions and pay. I gave hugs to those who were devastated by the loss of their employment and wages.

I was certain that in this time that was so harsh on everyone involved that your company would show remorse for having to let go those who had dedicated their lives to meeting your demands.

Several weeks ago, I heard the announcement of the annual MULTI-MILLION DOLLAR Fashion Show.

POOR TASTE, Victoria's Secret. EXTREMELY poor taste. It sickens me to think that producing a show that costs so many people their salaries and jobs is on your list of priorities. It seems to me that what would help your revenues is not watching a highly overpaid supermodel strut down an overpriced runway wearing something that is "kind of but not really" available in stores, but a knowledgeable, friendly employee dedicated to their position in your stores. It would be more beneficial to keep your employees to develop and sell your product. It is rubbing salt into fresh wounds. When those models hit the runway this year, they are further stomping down every single employee that was let go or had their salary cut. They are literally kicking them when they are down.

To me, a past employee and consumer, I can no longer walk into one of your stores without seeing lavish and unnecessary expenses. Is your expensive packaging necessary? Sure, its nice. How many people were let go so you could still afford that packaging, that was only to be thrown away? How am I supposed to work with this snooty little girl who could care less about her job and was hired only because she came with a cheaper price tag wage?

Your image is fading. The brand name that commanded such respect before has diminished in my eyes. I no longer respect you. Your world-wide known logo no longer portrays class and enterprise. It symbolizes greed and dishonesty.
Your integrity as a company is shattered in my eyes. Your logo sickens me. I am angry at your insensitivity and cruelty. Clearly, the blood, sweat and tears that so many put into you mean nothing and continue to go unrecognized and unappreciated. It becomes more and more apparent that the driving force behind this company is corporate creed.

We were and will always be just numbers to you. Workhorses that pad your pockets and those of your supermodels. Nothing more.

And now that pushup bra remains unsold somewhere in your store because there is no one to stock it and sell it to me. You got rid of them.

Truely Yours No More,
Sara

Dear Tooth Fairy

Dear Tooth Fairy:

Listen up, lady...I have gotten no sleep over the past 3 days. Maybe 6 hours in total. I mean I have been so tired, I almost put my frequent frozen yogurt card through the wash! Then you really would be getting an earful.

So, I can tell you don't have children of your own. Otherwise I don't think it would take MONTHS OF AGONY for a little bitty baby to cut ONE FREAKIN' TOOTH! This is the story in my household. Finally, after months of drool, countless bottles of tylenol and motrin, vials upon vials, of teething tablets, endless sleepless nights of comforting a teething, miserable child, and one holistic remedy, my precious little boy has his first tooth! I know this only because yesterday, he bit me so hard and I felt the little razor. Then I had to hold him down and weasel my finger into this little aching mouth to verify my discovery. That was a pleasant experience in itself.

For the tooth, I thank you.

And this I beg of you...tomorrow morning when I wake up, can Isaac have like, 6 or 7 more teeth? I mean, cut me a break here. Throw me a bone. Otherwise I make no promises about my child believing in you...and we all know what happens when a child says he doesn't believe in fairies, right?

Ok, glad we are on the same page now.

Sincerely,
One Tired Mommy