Letter to Baby H

My Sweet Little H:

You are ONE! 

I can’t believe a whole crazy year has gone by so fast.  You’ve learned and developed so much over the last year, and yet the teeny tiny infant that you were is still clear in my head.  Part of me still wishes that you were that tiny baby, so sweet and bright eyed with tiny fingers.  And the other part cannot wait to see what you will learn, how you will develop and who you will become.  And here you are – not the past or future version of yourself, both of whom I know I love, but the present, and you are wonderful!

How did I live before your funny little laugh and your sloppy fish-lipped kisses, your constant desire to bounce up and down or your sweet voice as you talk to yourself in the morning or as you “nom” on your food?  Your favorite thing to do right now is read.  You’ve discovered how fascinating books can be, with the words and bright pictures.  You’ll find a book you love (usually Subway) and bring it over to me.  You instantly crawl into my lap and plop yourself down, demanding to be told a story.  You’re quite insistent.  If you can’t get comfortable or if I don’t read right away, there are great protestations.  I hope you always keep this love of stories and reading. 

You’re very funny, little man.  You like lean over sideways when you eat or bonking heads with whoever is feeding you.  It’s a constant battle to try to get you to stop banging your toys on Meemaw’s brand new coffee table.  You love using the remote but can never seem to pick what you want to watch, hehe.  I think you just like watching the remote light up when you press the buttons.  The toy versions won’t do, of course.  You’re too smart for that.  You know the real one from the fake one. 

When you were only a few days old, you’d been under the billi lights for your jaundice and I was changing your diaper in the middle of the night.  It must have been around 2 or 3 in the morning.  I’d gotten you all nice and cleaned up and was just about to put on a new diaper when SPLAT!  You pooped all over the wall next to the changing table!  Just suddenly, splat! and then green baby poop dripping down the wall.  Panicked, I tried to stop it from hitting the wall and ended up with poop all over my hand as I’m calling out for help.  Thankfully, Meemaw came to the rescue and got you cleaned up while I cleaned up the wall.  Poppy and Uncle Reece slept through/ignored the whole thing!  Can you believe that? 

It’s these silly moments, even the messy ones, that make you so much fun.  I miss you every time I can’t be with you and I’m so sorry that I have to work so much.  I miss trying to get you to eat the Third Foods (basically chunkier versions of the same baby food you’ve been eating) and getting frustrated every time you spit it out, but will eat the food of my plate (just as chunky, if not more so, I’m just saying).  And I miss chasing you around the couch saying, “I’m gonna get you!” and you running away with a big smile and the chorus of giggles when I catch you and tickle your sides.  And I especially miss tucking you into bed at night and kissing your head and helping you wrap yourself up in the fuzzy white blanket with the bear on it. 

Please know that I would do this every night if I could.  But sometimes I need to work, silly thing that it is.  I know money doesn’t bring happiness and it’s certainly not going to repay me for the time I’m missing with you and those little moments of your babyhood, but I also have to make sure that you are fed and that the bills are paid (seems like a banal excuse, but there it is).  And while I will do whatever it takes to take care of you, including working these crazy 60 hour work weeks, please remember that the whole time I am thinking about you and remembering why I need to spend this time away from you in order to make sure that we are taken care of.  And remember, one day, it won’t have to be like this.

I don’t resent that I’m doing this on my own.  I’ve never felt like I’m on my own completely.  Meemaw and Poppy have been so wonderful in helping us and taking care of you.  Sometimes I worry that you love them more than me.  But then I realize how selfish that is.  They love watching you grow and learn and bonding with you in a way that many grandparents never have.  You’re all so lucky to have this time together.  And soon enough, baby boy, you and I will get to spend tons of time together too.  I’m not always going to be working like this.  I’m going to make a good life for us, for you.  And I’m going to make up all this missed time to you (even though I know you won’t remember it).

It’s so thrilling to watch you grow and learn!  You’re getting so smart!  In the last year, you’ve figured out how to: roll over, sit up by yourself, clap your hands (or Mommy’s hands, which is really your favorite), bounce and jump, crawl, walk on the furniture, play with an iPad, eat solid foods, then eat “grown up” foods, fall asleep all by yourself, pick things up, talk and chatter, kiss (big, open-mouthed fish kisses), and have even developed an affection for football.  You sat down once and watched some of the Broncos’ game with rapt fascination, eating your baby Cheetos and just staring at the game. 

You’ve even learned a little bit of sign language, which I’m definitely going to try harder to teach you.  You definitely recognize the signs when I sign to you (milk, especially!) even though you rarely sign them back any more.  Looks like we’re going to have to get you some more Baby Signing Time videos, which I know you love!  They’re great little movies!

And your most recent accomplishment is the one we’ve all been waiting for – you took your first shaky little Frankenstein steps four days before your birthday on 12/16/2013.  We were decorating Christmas cookies on the kitchen table.  I stood you up and took a few steps away, then held my arms out for you to come to me.  And you did!  Three or four steps right into my arms.  I squeezed you so tight – which you did not appreciate.  You wanted to play and getting a big bear hug from Mommy was not your idea of fun.  You didn’t walk again the rest of the night but you’d figured it out, you knew you could do it.  Your body still sometimes got ahead of your feet and you’d fall, but you weren’t afraid of it anymore.  You trusted yourself to walk, all on your own.

I hope you keep that confidence and trust in yourself, to take that first step with no one else holding you and to just know that you can do it.  And know that I will always be behind you to catch you if you fall or to help set your right when you start to tumble. 

I love you more than I can express, baby.  You will always be my sweet H!

Love,
Mommy

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Back After a Hiatus!

It has been three months since my last post! Wow! Bad blogger. Must try to write more often, for all my loyal fans out there (aka my mom).
But I have a good excuse – it’s been a BUSY three months!

Let’s just hit the highlights:
— I’ve been at my job for 5 months now and really enjoying it. It’s much different than what I’m used to doing and this is the first school year in 20-something years that I have celebrated the “Back to School” season. I both miss and do NOT miss it, all at the same time.

— I’ve been living with my parents until I get back on my feet after having Baby H, moving across country, and getting a new job (you know, all those little things) and it’s been really nice to have a soft place to land. However, that nest is about to be uprooted as we (my folks, H, and I) are moving to a bigger house!
MovingTruck
My folks have been talking about moving for years. H and I moved in and about 3 months later, they found a beautiful new development and are building a brand new house! It’s going to be gorgeous! But won’t be ready until February-ish. They put the old house on the market and 8 days later it sold! Craziness! So now we’re prepping to move into an apartment for the interim. Yep, your read that right – three adults, three cats, our houseful of furniture, and Baby H…and a partridge in a pear tree. 0.o

I believe that at the conclusion of this adventure (from old to house to apartment to new house), the total number of times I have moved since graduating grad school in 2011 will be 5 times! I don’t know why I unpack anything.

— I took a hiatus from online dating as well, for about a month or so. I figured I just needed to refocus, get settled into my new life, and take care of Baby H. H is now sitting up all by himself! And has two brand new, pearly white teeth – which, let me tell you, make for a very cranky baby. I’ve officially memorized all the songs from his various toys, especially the monkey that hangs from his car seat. I hear those stupid tunes in my sleep (doot doot doo doot doot doot, doo doo doot doot doo doot…). That monkey is definitely one of his favorite toys. And he can’t take a bath without his penguin. He loves that penguin! So, those are the animals we tend to linger with when we go to the zoo. I think he likes to see the contrast of their colors and how fast they go in the water. Bath Penguin

— After H’s 6-month checkup, we began the oh-so-dreaded “Get H to Sleep All Night” routine. Which, in hindsight, I have to say was not nearly as bad as I had expected. Thank God. My doc recommended the “Ferber method,” of establishing a bedtime routine and then putting him to bed and not getting him unless he was hurt, or sick, or something. Yikes. After 6 months of waking up at least once in the middle of the night to feed him, I was anticipating fits from my little man! The first night, he cried for maybe45 minutes when I laid him down, and maybe 20 minutes in the middle of the night. The next night, it was less. The third night, he didn’t wake up at all. And by the fourth night, he would just roll himself onto his belly (his preferred way to sleep) and go all night long. Oh how I had missed sleeping! It’s quite delightful. I kinda wish I’d started the “sleep on your own” thing sooner!

— I’ve made a pact with a friend of mine that we will be running the annual half-marathon in May. I’ve gone out “running” a total of 4 or 5 times now. Running with a stroller = much MUCH harder than just running. It’s like pushing an additional 30+ pounds and not being able to use your arms to help propel yourself forward. It’s all legs and heart! Which, let me just say, that after a year of being pregnant/recovering from being pregnant, makes for a very weak bod. I’m pretty sure a mile at this point would have me crawling. I’ve got my work cut out for me to be able to do 13.1!

— Like a total Pinterest addict (which I have resisted until recently), I have already begun planning H’s birthday party. It’s not until December. What can I say? I’m a planner. It’s how I roll.

— What was the catalyst for my newfound Pinterest addiction, you ask? I’m co-hosting a baby shower for one of my most amazing friends who is due in November. We are doing a “Good Night Moon” themed shower for her. We just started making the invitations and they are SO cute. I think I’m definitely going to have to make a post dedicated to throwing a kick ass baby shower. 

— And, last but not least, much like my hiatus from writing this blog, I have returned to the dating scene. More to come on that…(I know you’re all waiting with baited breath).

Whew! Okay. That’s sounds like it’s good for now. Back soon with more on the perils of online dating.

❤ J.

Dating and the Single Mom, Episode 1

Quick update: Baby H is nearly 5 months old now and growing like a weed.  J  He’s so close to rolling over.  He gets right there on the verge that if you blew on him he’d roll over, but he’s not quite there yet.  I was hoping he’d do it as a Mother’s Day present.  But, as with everything, it has to be done on H’s terms.  My funny little tyrant. 

In other news, I went on a date for the first time since before I got pregnant last weekend.  Just a simple thing – grabbed a quick cup of coffee at Tim Horton’s, chatted for a couple of hours, got to know each other in person after talking online for a couple of weeks, blah blah blah.  There was even a little kissing involved.  Some wide, sloppy fish-like kissing but still more action than I’ve gotten in over year.  I guess I’ll take it.

Thing is, while I had a decent time with this guy and we seemed to connect fairly well conversation-wise, once the date was over, every message he sent me sent me into this weird, reclusive anxiety.  I pretty much spent Saturday and Sunday dodging his texts (which, thankfully, are easier to ignore than phone calls).  His messages were really sweet and well-intended, like “I woke up this morning with a smile on my face and it might have something to do with you,” “I can’t stop thinking about you,” and “you are so beautiful..stunning and so kind and so sweet and so open minded and it hits me in all the right spots.”  And calling me things like “sweetie” and “baby.”  Like I said, all well intentioned and affectionate, but for some reason it makes me want to just hunker down and wait for him to leave me alone. 

It doesn’t take a genius to trace where this bizarre fear is coming from: The Ex and Baby H’s Bio-Dad. 

Ex would do things like that, be all complimentary and sweet and affectionate.  But he was also incredibly controlling, emotionally manipulative, possessive, and wanted to move at lightning speed.  Everything with him was about sex or making a physical connection.  Without it, he had serious doubts about the relationship and how I felt about him.  And if I didn’t give in and give him the connection that he wanted, then he would cry or try to guilt trip me into thinking rejecting sex when I didn’t want to do it was wrong and my refusal for being intimate was a refusal of him.  And then, when I got pregnant, I refused his demands that I have an abortion and when I refused to move in with him because I wasn’t ready, he abandoned me and Baby H. 

So, when this new guy started in with the “I can’t stop thinking about you’s” and the “sweeties” and “babies,” I immediately went back to that place of wanting to escape that kind of relationship.  And when I didn’t respond this weekend and he began asking if I was still into him and what I was thinking, I know that he meant it to legitimately figure out what’s going on and whether we’ve got a potential relationship sparking or if he should just move on to the next girl.  But in my head, I just hear Ex’s voice consistently doubting himself, the relationship, me…and then how everything ended…

I just don’t want to be with another Ex.  And, logically, I know that this is completely unfair to him.  But it comes from an honest place.  All along, I’ve been saying that it doesn’t matter what Ex did to me, that I could handle it (and I can and have), but I think the tatters of our relationship have affected me more than I realized.

Maybe I’m not as ready to date as I thought…

Or maybe there’s just room enough for one man in my life right now – Baby H.

Letter for H

To My Sweet Baby H:

A year ago today, I found out that my life was never going to be the same. I never saw you coming, never could have fathomed how much my life would change, how much I would love you. Seeing it written down in print like this doesn’t do it justice, makes it all seem so inadequate and ordinary. So unlike this experience, so unlike you. Words are paltry things — they’re never enough.

I want you to know that from the moment I found out I was going to have you a year ago, I wanted you. I couldn’t feel you inside of my but I knew you were there and knew your little spririt was growing and taking form. I spent many hours when I was pregnant trying to picture what you would look like, who you would be, what kind of mom, what kind of person I wanted to be for you.

I want you to know that I fought for you before you were born. I fought for your right to be loved by every person in your life. You deserve nothing less than true, unending, perfect, wonderful love — because that is what you are. A truly perfect, wonderful, lovely person.

When I first starting feeling you move in my belly, I would talk to you a lot, sing songs and lullabies, and rub my stomach like I was rubbing your back. You loved moving around right before bedtime. I would lay down in bed and you’d start doing jumping jacks, kicking all around. During the 2012 presidential election, we watched the first debate with a group of UW college democrats. You would kick like crazy every time President Obama spoke, but would be so still every time Romney did. Everyone laughed that you were cheering on your candidate.

You picked your name, you know. I would list off names at night laying in bed to see which one you responded to. You would always kick for H. I knew that that would be your name. Your middle name is for your Auntie C. She was the most beautiful, fun, spririted people I ever knew. She was so strong. She lived in constant pain from arthritis but she was always laughing, always joking, right up until the end. She had the most beautiful spirit. I loved her so much and she would have loved you to pieces. She died two years before you were born. We all still miss her so, so much. I hope that you are as strong and spirited as she was.

Let me tell you, boy — if the pregnancy is any indication, you are going to be a spirited little fella. You would jump and kick at inappropriate times, you gave me panic attacks on more than one occasion causing me to go to the hospital to have you checked out, and the heartburn! Criminy! I thought you’d come out looking like the wolfman with all the heartburn I had!

The story of your birth is a little bit scary. Starting the day before Thanksgiving, the ride to your birthday was a crazy one. On the day before Thanksgiving, I started having contractions. I went to the hospital and they gave me medicine to stop them and put me on bedrest for a week. Meemaw and PopPop were planning on having Thanksgiving with your Uncle Reece in Ohio, but they ended up catching a last minute flight to Wyoming to be with me instead — just in case you decided to make an early appearance. Meemaw stayed with me until you were born.

All through December, I had lots of contractions and alternated between going to work and being on bedrest. Finally, on December 13, I started having contractions for real and we went to the hospital. But after 12 hours of labor, the contractions stopped! The doctor put me back on bedrest and scheduled an induction for the next week because my blood pressure was high. The date was set: December 20, 2012!

That morning, Meemaw, PopPop and I bundled up against the frozen Wyoming morning and headed to the hospital to have a baby. The first part of labor was rough, painful and horrible. We tried watching The Blues Brothers to help take my mind off the contractions. It didn’t really work. But once I got my epidural a couple hours later, labor was just fine. I slept through most of it! By that evening, it was time to push. So I pushed and I pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed. For two and a half hours I pushed!

Finally, around 7pm, a nurse named Olga came into the room and completely took over. She keep yelling at me to “poosh, poosh, poosh,” and yelled at Meemaw and PopPop too, “don’t help her, she needs to do on her own.” She was a little rough around the edges to say the least! But she was definitely what I needed because her brutal encouragement got me to finally push, push, push you out and there you were — a beautiful, perfect baby boy!

They put you on my chest. You weren’t breathing and were turning a little gray, but you were still so perfect. I ran my fingertips over your sticky little hair and looked into your eyes for the first time. And, cheesy as it sounds, for a second everything stopped, and it was was just you and me, looking at each other. Strangers but knowing each other at the same time.

They took you away and started giving you oxygen and cleaning you up. You may have had a rough start, my little man, but you recovered quick! You pinked up just perfect and were soon yelling out loud. They wrapped you up and brought you back to me and I finally got to kiss your little head (sorry, baby, but no way I was kissing you when you were all covered with juice!).

You made me get so huge when I was pregnant, hehe. We thought for sure you were going to be this big baby! And long! When you were born, you came out this sweet, skinny little thing! Tiny little H with his spindly arms and legs and these big blue eyes and kissable lips. You were so teeny, all curled up, swaddled in the crib next to my bed. I couldn’t stand to see them hurting you to give you your newborn shots and everything — but don’t worry. Your Meemaw went with you to make sure that they did everything right and your PopPop stayed back and made sure I didn’t fall to pieces.

When they brought you back the first time after your shots, they put you in this little stocking. My Christmas baby! You looked so adorable in it. Teeny tiny baby in this great big stocking.

When we took you home, you looked so skinny and little in the bassinett. I’d been fighting for months to keep Gus Gus (our kitty) out of it and he looked bigger in it than you! You only really slept in the bassinet that first night because the next morning you had to go under the billi lights for your jaundice. It looked like a light up suitcase with this skinny little baby inside. You hated it! You held on to the side, your little fingers hanging over the edge, like you were trying to climb out. Thankfully you were only in it for a couple of days and then, boop, right back into the much more comfortable bassinett.

I have to say that that Christmas was one of the best ever. It wasn’t extravagant or really all that out of the ordinary. It was just you and me, Meemaw and PopPop, and Uncle Reece, lounging in our pajamas all day, holding you, cooing over you, and marveling that such a teeny tiny person had managed to take up the majority of the real estate under the tree.

Having you here has been the most wonderful, life-changing event of my life. You are the sweetest little baby. You’re starting to giggle and are working on a little tooth. You are thinking about rolling over and have almost made it a couple of times. I never knew that this little things, things that seem so insignificant in the long run, would mean so much and cause so much excitement! I love seeing you smile at me when I pick you up from daycare and it breaks my heart to leave to go to work.

I want you to know that I will always love you like this — and will undoubtedly love you even more as you grow (if that’s possible). You have always been and always will be the most wanted and loved little boy.

I’m going to write a letter to you every year, to tell you stories about what you were like, what I was feeling and thinking, what was happening in our lives. Because some things you won’t remember, somethings you might, somethings you might not understand. I want you to see how much you mean to me and our family, and know that, even if it didn’t seem like it at the time, I am trying to do what I think is best for you. Because I want you to see how you have grown up as a person, the fun stories and smiles, the hard times. Because I want you to see how you have changed me, made me grow up as a person, and how you’ve turned me into someone new.

I love you, BabyMan! More than I can say.

Mommy

Stretch Marks

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A new perspective on my post-baby belly. I like it. 🙂
(found on My Motherboard Facebook page)

Moving Tips for the Single Parent

Two weeks ago, I moved across the country to be closer to my family.  And let me tell you, packing and traveling all that way with a three month old is not as easy as it looks!  Aside from the basic baby-requires-all-your-attention roadblocks, you have to figure in that you’re more than likely still working full-time as you’re packing up.  If you’re like me, I had to call in reinforcements if I even wanted to do the dishes.  By the time I got home from work, I barely had energy to cook myself dinner (I’m pretty sure the Papa John’s delivery guy knew my order by heart) and feed the baby before completely crashing…just to feed him again three hours later.

So, here’s some moving/travel tips I’ve come up with the help any other poor single parent souls out there attempting to make a move.

1.       Get Help!

I’ll admit it – I’m one of those people that really hates to ask for help.  In fact, I only called a friend for help once when I needed it.  Otherwise, I just went without sleep or without doing the chore instead of giving a buddy a call and asking them to watch Henry while I did the dishes, ran the vacuum, or whatever.  But when it came to packing up my place, I would STILL be packing if it hadn’t been for the help I got from my grandparents, dad, uncle, and a handful of friends.  My grandparents and I knocked out half the house over like two days.  It was pretty hardcore.  The boxes were stacked practically to the ceiling.  And then, when it came time to wrapping up and load the truck, I had to be at work all day.  My dad and uncle loaded the truck with my entire apartment in the span of five hours, top to bottom.  I came home from picking up H at daycare and found a completely barren apartment!  It was unbelievable!  Never would’ve happened otherwise.  Living out there by myself with H probably would’ve been a lot easier if I could’ve swallowed my pride and asked for help.  Lots of people offered – I don’t know why I was just waiting for one of them to make a move when I could’ve called in that favor.  Looking back on it, it just seems silly to have struggled like I had.  But it felt weird asking my friends for help.  I felt like I should’ve been able to handle it all myself, like I had something to prove.  In the end, I proved to myself how long I could go without washing dishes and how long I could make a Papa John’s pizza order last (not long, I like pizza).

2.       Mark Boxes with Detail

Aside from the typical “Kitchen” or “Bathroom” markers, I really should’ve been much more specific with what I was putting into these because because damn if I can’t find half of little man’s clothes!  He’s got these really cute outfits that were hanging in his closet that, for the life of me, I cannot find anywhere!  Most of my stuff is in storage since I’m living with my folks while I’m getting back on my feet after the move and starting over at this new job.  So, I went to the unit to look for these clothes, went through every box and cannot find them anywhere.  I hope I find them before H is too big to wear them!

3.       Get a Big Diaper Bag!

When getting on the plane, you have enough to carry with the baby and everything, it’s easiest just to have the diaper bag as your carry on.  I highly recommend a big one!  Mine’s a pretty good size but I wasn’t able to fit a book or anything in it (which was fine since we both pretty much just slept the whole flight).  But if you want to have something to do other than hold your baby, you’re going to need some extra space.  Plus, the Moby Wrap or whatever strap-your-baby-to-you-device that you’re using doesn’t fit in those bags.  I ended up using the Moby as a pillow while I was nursing but it was a pain in the ass to try to get the thing back on once we’d landed.

But! Bonus tip — airport security loves “origami babies,” as the TSA agent in Denver informed me.  You won’t have to take it off or anything.  They’ll just pat you down a little bit to make sure nothing’s under the cloth.  But, be careful because if you do beep under the metal detector (as I did), they’ll make you take it off and pat down both you AND the baby.  Little H got his first pat down at only three months old; he’s clearly a rebel and a threat to national security.  😛

4.       Nurse on the Plane

Nurse or feed at take off and landing — ’nuff said.  The one time I didn’t, H was sleeping so soundly I didn’t want to mess with him.  I fully believe in don’t mess with a sleeping baby — unless you’re landing in an airplane.  If you don’t, he will be quite uncomfortable.  He was the perfect little traveler except with that one landing.

5.       Give Yourself Time

My last day of work at my old job was on a Wednesday.  I flew out Thursday morning and started work on Monday.  Gaaahhhhhh!  Craziness!  It was just not enough time to get everything done and get H settled.  His whole little world got shaken up and it reflected in his sleeping…or, to be more specific, not sleeping.  Which is not good for a mommy starting a new job to be falling asleep in orientation, I’m just saying.  Oops!

 

All in all, the move went fairly smoothly and the new job should be interesting, especially once I get to really start working and get out of the training mode.  I really can’t complain.  Other than H working on a bit of a cold, he’s doing well and starting to settle into a routine.  I’m taking him to day care every day even though I’m technically only working part time for now (leading me to seek out other part time work while I’m waiting to go full time, more on that later) and he seems to really love his new teachers, lots of smiles and everything.  And they adore him back.  🙂  His one teacher, S, is always apologizing for spoiling him by holding him all day.  Which, quite frankly, I think I can handle.  My only fear is that one day he’ll begin to prefer her over me.  😦

❤ J.

Silver Lining of a Single Mom

Silver Lining of a Single Mom

While it’s been really hard these last three months, I agree with this article — there is definitely a silver lining to being a single mom.  And I fully believe that my little H and I will have a special bond unlike that I’ve ever had.

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Back to Work

Well, the time has come to conclude the delightful little bubble of maternity leave and return to the big bad world of work.  Lame.

My first day back was yesterday and leaving my little H at daycare was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.  Of course, he’s fine and my daycare provider is just phenomenal — it’s me that has the issue.  He was friendly and smiling a little bit when I left him and she was holding him with such care and cooing over him.  But walking away from him and getting into my car felt like I’d left a part of myself behind.  I got in the car and immediately started bawling and cried all the way to the office.

I just kept picturing his little face with those sweet little chipmunk cheeks and worrying: what if he cries and she doesn’t know how to soothe him; what if one of the other kids wants to touch him with their germy little hands; what if I didn’t pump enough milk and he gets hungry; I didn’t pack his favorite toy, what if he wants it; he’s only 11 weeks old, but what if he decides to roll over or sit up or find his feet or laugh and I miss that first; what if he looks around and realizes I’m gone and misses me, or worse, what if he starts to prefer the day care teacher over me?

And then I got to work and got started on things and, as much as I hate to say it, it felt kind of good to be back and doing something other than changing diapers and singing nursery rhymes.  I’ve missed talking to “grown ups.”  I’ve missed my job, being active and putting my mind to use on something other than how many hours I have to get something accomplished before H needs to eat again. 

And then I feel guilty because H is so amazing and I love him so much, should I really be a little happy to be back at work.  And then I see a picture of my little man and miss him like crazy and am brought to tears once again because I just want to kiss his little cheekers.  I guess when it really comes to it, it’s normal to be feeling both of these things.  It’s a bit of a roller coaster ride jerking me back and forth between so many emotions. 

When the day was over and I finally got to pick up my guy, it was a relief to see his teacher holding him and him bright eyed and checking everything out.

Right now, I think I just need to learn to be okay with the emotional jerking around until I settle into a routine (which of course is going to take a while as I’m moving across the country and starting a new job in a week!).  I guess running over to see him during my lunch hour will have to be enough to satisfy me until then.

❤ J.

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Fingernails

Okay, so no matter how short I cut H’s fingernails, he still ends up scratching his little face.  I’m not sure what else I can do.  He keeps ending up with poor little marks on his cheeks.  Any experienced mommas out there with any advice?

❤ J.

Dinnertime

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True Story: I ate my chicken salad standing up, holding and rocking my lil guy because he would cry every time I put him down.

#reallifeofasinglemom

I’m Awesome.  😛

❤ J.