recovering from family visits and why my husband is father of the year

My MIL stayed with us for two weeks. It was a good visit. We spent time together, she had plenty of quality time with the boy, and we didn't get too worked up over anything. The boy was thrilled to haver her around -- enough so that, toward the end, his sleeping habits became erratic. It would take over an hour of taking him back to bed and getting him to settle down, long after the bedtime stories and lullabies and tuck-in had happened. Naptime started to get just as hard. It ruffled my feathers to say the least.

Once she went back home, it still took a couple days to get back to normal. I think we’ve now recovered from my MIL’s visit. Bedtime is still kind of a battle, but at least he’s going down the first time instead of continually getting up.

Last night I just about blew my top – he didn’t want a bath, wouldn’t let me help him put on his nighttime diaper or jammies, refused tooth brushing completely by screaming at me… I finally yelled "That's it! You're in time out!!" and went into the other room where DH was standing. I walked past him and pounded my fists into the bed to let out some anger while our son continued to scream and cry in his room. It wasn’t a pretty scene. I was so frustrated I wanted to scream and cry myself.

Fortunately for all of us, DH took over. He went into the boy's room and shut the door. I went and sat on the couch with my head in my hands, feeling like an idiot for losing my temper. The boy continued to cry and scream for several minutes, but DH didn't give up. He stayed in there, rocking the boy in the rocking chair and just holding him until he finally settled down. Eventually the boy settled down enough that he let DH tuck him into bed -- something he has demanded exclusively from Mommy for the past two weeks -- and actually went to sleep.

And that is why my imperfect, ever-evolving, back-aching, long-suffering husband of 13 years (as of next week) is Father of the Year. This one's for you, honey.

independence is overrated

I had things to do. Didn't do them. Tried to go for a walk around the lake but couldn't because of pulled muscles in both legs. Definitely didn't want to do chores, though that's really my job these days especially when the boy is in daycare.

This time, I wasn't bored. I was lost.

At the lake, I started wondering what in the world is wrong with me. Depressed? No. Anxious? Not at this point. Numb? I guess. What I really was, was lonely. Even though life with my son is a rollercoaster that never stops, I start to miss him when I'm by myself. I love my husband of course, and I love the days when he works from home. But after 12 years of marriage I'm pretty good at spending time on my own for short periods. I just don't want to (he feels the same way). I'd rather just be with my family.

When I was working, it was different. I was engaged in developing content, solving problems, and managing projects. I can't say I was emotionally invested in my work but it was certainly rewarding intellectually. But that time made family time all the more precious. It's just weird.

Being alone all day kind of sucks. It doesn't inspire me to pursue playing guitar (though I fantasize about it often), or kick-start me into cleaning house no matter how many times I pick up crumbs with my bare feet (as much as it pisses me off). I think I don't care anymore about being independent, being exceptionally self-reliant, or possessing much of the pioneer spirit that defines our great country. Instead, I wish my family lived in the same state. I wish I was wealthy enough to fly every year to see everybody (though now at least they don't have as many excuses not to fly here since we're about to move into a 5-bedroom house). I miss having work friends, even though they all fall off the planet the minute I leave a company (don't tell me this doesn't happen everywhere). I miss my best friend whom I emailed with almost daily while I was working, but has practically disappeared now that I'm not.

I think being a little co-dependent and admitting I need someone isn't so terrible. This from the daughter of one of the founding members of the National Organization for Women, and the granddaughter of a woman who forged a strong family almost in spite of her husband. Trust me -- independence and You Can Do It! is in my blood.

I decided today that I really need to work. I'm really trying now to find something, and would love to get going in January. I'm doing all I can from my end, but otherwise I have no control over what happens. It's not up to me and sometimes that's hard. I want to be able to make it happen and I just can't. Someone else has to decide that they want to hire me. Hurry up and wait.

In the meantime, I am going to make a stronger effort to practice gratitude in the moment. I am blessed beyond belief.

baby finger food faves and a moment of gratitude

In a fit of desperation, I continually troll the Internet in search of decent finger foods to please my child who has decided that the texture of most baby foods is wretched (unless they're fruity). And so, just in case anyone else on the planet is wondering what in the world to feed their not-quite-ready-for-real-solids baby, here's a list of finger foods my precious baby actually enjoys (in no particular order):

1. banana (right off the whole, or in chunks)
2. pear (finger-sized slices)
3. strawberry
4. melon
5. dried seaweed (whole sheet, which is about 2x3", or torn in chunks which is tidier)
6. sandwiches stuffed with soft cheese or cream cheese (sadly, not hummus), cut into small squares without the crust (soft whole wheat bread)
7. chicken and beef (small chunks)
8. cheese (shredded or small pieces)
9. bread
10. blueberries (frozen, thawed - they're softer than fresh)
11. baby crackers
12. rice
13. o-shaped cereal
14. carrot
15. meatballs! (I don't know why, but this is exciting to me)

What's missing from this list? Vegetables, with the exception of seaweed and carrot. Not only have my few attempts not been successful, I have a hard time buying them and then keeping them fresh long enough to steam the living daylights out of them before giving them to my son. I have thrown away my share of veggies. Sigh. I know, I must try harder. But at least I can blend pureed veggies with yogurt - he'll eat that all day long. He will eat the fruit/veggie blended baby food in pouches, though (even straight from the pouch, which is fun in itself). So it's not a total loss.

On another note, I thought I'd share a tender moment of gratitude:

This morning I held my son while he took his morning bottle. I stroked his soft forehead and touched his tiny feet. I smiled at him, and he at me, fully embracing the moment of peace, knowing how short this time is while he's still a baby and I can hold him while he takes a bottle. Beauty is in the everyday.

intentionally grateful

It's too easy to find things to complain about. Therefore, I often have to be intentional about gratitude - finding something small or big to recognize and say "yeah, that's pretty cool."

So here goes: Last night my son had a huge blister on his upper lip that we were afraid was turning into a massive cold sore. We put him to bed on time and didn't do anything (it didn't seem like there was anything we could do). As we do every night, we went in together to bid him a final goodnight while he was sleeping. Together, we each laid a hand on him and whispered a prayer for Jesus to heal him. This morning, no blister. No evidence of a blister. Just a healthy, happy, smiling baby standing up in his crib! Oh, guess it's time to take down the crib mobile...

Thank you, Jesus, for reminding me to include you in the little things as well as the big things. I am a grateful gal.