Wheels on the Bus

Overnighting

2008-07-28T14:57:00.000-07:00

Well, I did one of the hardest things that any mom has to do.

I left my baby overnight for the first time.

My husband and I left Alexander with my parents so that we could enjoy a nice night out for our anniversary. No big deal, right? WRONG…it’s a huge deal. This is yet another thing that I didn’t understand before my son was born. I knew moms who didn’t leave their kid until he or she was 3 or even 4 and I, deep down, thought that was ridiculous. Turns out, not so much.

I tried to reason it out…my parents are crazy about him and would give him even more attention than we do…he goes to bed insanely early and wouldn’t even know if we came back to get him…we weren’t going far at all and should anything happen, we would be able to get to him in ten minutes, flat. It all made sense in my head. But, in my heart, I just felt selfish. It wasn’t as if I was leaving him to go in the hospital or to take care of an urgent family problem or attend a funeral. No, I was leaving him purely so I could enjoy a night out. Surely this was wrong and bad mommying defined.

Before we dropped him off, I cuddled Alexander extra close. I told him that I loved him and that we would be back for him. I told him that I would miss him. I told him not to cry. And as we climbed back into our car with an empty car seat, I felt sad.

Even though we had a great time, we were so ready to see him the next morning. Was he excited to see us? Not so much. He barely looked up from the new toy his grandparents had bought him. And, when he did deign to acknowledge us, it was casual, off-hand, almost as if he was saying, “Oh, hey…did you guys go somewhere?”

There is nothing like being appreciated.

The Target Lullaby

2008-07-23T09:14:00.000-07:00

You see them every time you walk through the doors of Target, Publix, Wal-Mart, Chick-fil-a and the mall: Parents and cranky children.

You say to yourself, “Why don’t those people just keep their kids at home? If they are going to come out to a public place and cause such a disturbance, they shouldn’t be out in the first place.” You stare at them. You shake your head in disgust. You think that you would NEVER do that because, clearly, people who do that are just crazy.

Obviously, you don’t have children.

And, obviously, you don’t know the golden rule of parenting a cranky child: when all else fails, leave home.

I am not sitting on high saying that I knew this rule myself before Alexander came along. On the contrary, I was among those looking down my nose at the frazzled mommy pushing a whining baby in a shopping cart. I was an “I know better than you” witness to the toddler having a tantrum in the frozen food aisle. I was the disgusted fast-food diner wishing the yelling kids in the booth behind me would just leave.

Then, I got a kid.

And I found out the hard way that there are days that no amount of cajoling will make a 7-month old take a nap. There are times when the same silly song that has been sung a million times will not produce a smile. There is a point when that favorite toy or even a comforting bottle cannot stop the crying. These are desperate times. And you know what they say about desperate times. That’s right folks: it’s time to just get the heck out of the house, before your child spontaneously combusts and the people in white coats come to take you away. At this juncture, staying home, not going out, is the crazy choice.

And, as I found out myself earlier this week, there is something about driving into the Target parking lot and buckling your baby into the cart that causes the panic to dissipate. Walking through those welcoming automatic doors seems to bring a peace not only to you, but to your over-tired child as well. And when you catch the eye of another harried mom with a couple of kids in tow, there is a feeling of solidarity. You are not alone.

If you are very lucky, your child will take a long nap upon arriving home. Who cares that that nap cost you the $60 you spent at Target! That is money well-spent.

So, no longer do I wonder who these crazy women are who take their kids out when they are obviously not in a happy place. And that, my friends, is because I am now, proudly, one of them.

The Moment We're In

2008-07-16T15:25:00.001-07:00

The summer is flying by and I don’t know where it’s gone. The days that passed in a numbing sameness during the winter are now a dizzying array of chaos and motion. Since Father’s Day we have had…

1 Vacation Bible School
1 mission trip
1 sinus infection
1 July 4th weekend at the lake
1 root canal
1 allergic reaction
2 out-of-town visitors
1 well-baby visit to the doctor

And in between all of that, Alexander has been growing and changing right along with the flowers planted on our back porch, and if I don’t make myself notice, that just fades into the noise around me. He’s now sitting up and crawling and noticing everything. It’s as if he is an explorer and nothing escapes his notice. And watching him watch the world makes me see everything with new eyes also.

It’s sometimes difficult with everything going on to just stop and see and be. But Alexander (and probably most little ones) is a pro at this. He is totally in the moment and, to him, nothing will ever be better than the moment he is in. Even as I enjoy him, I’m constantly going forward to the next moment, the next summer thinking, “Next summer, he’ll be walking. The next summer we’ll do swimming lessons. Maybe by the next we’ll do Disney World.”

It’s in those moments that my boy pats my face as if to say, “Hey, Mommy…I’m right here, right now. And nothing will ever be better than the moment we’re in…you and me, sitting in the porch swing, watching the flowers grow.”

Daddy Day

2008-06-16T12:28:00.001-07:00

Yesterday was all about Dads.

And, not to begin a repeat of my Mother’s Day musings, but this year it was different, both as a daughter and the wife of a father.

I’ve never been a big card person; I find them ridiculously overpriced and, most of the time, sappy. But this year I found myself trolling the card aisle of Wal-Mart reading card after card and getting a little misty. The cards talked about admiration, love, and pride. They talked about happy memories and shared tears. And I nodded my head in agreement. Yes, these are all things I feel for my Dad. This year, I bought not one, but three cards.

Because, standing in the card aisle at Wal-Mart, I remembered my dad helping me with my math homework because he’s good at it and I’m terrible. I remembered him sitting through countless dance recitals and piano recitals and choir concerts and plays just because I might have a tiny solo or one short line or was simply up there performing. I remembered the Christmas he gave me a Les Miserables poster that he had walked through the New York City rain to get for me, just because it was my favorite show. I remembered the time during my teenage years that he came up to my room, pulled up a chair, and gently told me to stop giving my mom a hard time. I remembered how he found the safest place for me to live when I wanted to move to New York, and got my mother up there as soon as possible after September 11 because he knew I needed her.

Mostly, I thought about his relationship with Alexander. He loves that kid so much. He’s already talking about all the things he’s going to do with him: take him to the lake, go feed the ducks, give him ice cream, take him to McDonald’s for pancakes. He (and Mom) would spend all day, every day with him. Dad gives bottles, changes diapers, and makes silly voices all for Alexander.

And now, I know. I know how much he always loved me. Not just because I am a parent now, but because I see how he loves my baby. And I know that love didn’t just come from nowhere. It came from loving me and my brother our whole lives and now there is a new little life to love. It is a wonderful thing to see.

Something that definitely deserves a card.

Reflections From the Other Side of the 5am Bottle

2008-06-09T14:14:00.000-07:00

Now that Alexander is almost 6 months old, he is all about go go go. From the moment he wakes up in the morning, he is looking around, watching everything that is going on in the world. He is so curious.

Gone are the days of copious cuddling.

This makes me sad.

In the mornings, I used to give him his 5 am bottle right as my husband was leaving for work. Many times, he would fall asleep during the bottle and the two of us would snuggle together on the couch, often not waking again until it was time for the 8 am bottle. It was so sweet, so special, those little moments before the sun came up when it was just the two of us.

And as much as I complained about getting up so infernally early, a part of me knew that I would miss it when those days were passed. Before I knew it, he was sleeping until 7 and then he was ready to go. No more snuggle time. No way…Alexander has toys to gnaw on, things to look at, and lots of rolling around to do. He is growing up, right in front of my eyes.

Philosophically, I know I should be happy…he is confident, secure, and he knows that I will be here for him. He doesn’t feel like he needs to cling to me. Part of successful parenting is helping your baby be independent.

Not to say he won’t have clingy moments…I certainly hope he runs to me when he falls down or when he is hurting…but, for now, he’s ready to explore the world more and more each day. He’s ready to figure things out. He’s beginning to develop the skills that will guide him through life. And I am happy about that.

But, I would love just one more morning snuggle.

Mommying is a bittersweet thing.

We Loaded Up the Truck...

2008-05-27T08:27:00.000-07:00

Every Memorial Day, my family goes to my parents’ lake house. It’s always a fun-filled, relaxing time when we eat great food, watch moves, cruise on the lake, and just spend time together.

This year promised to be different with Alexander.

I decided to head down to Lake Martin early with my mom and dad and spend a week, baby in tow. Sounded great…have some help with the baby, a change of scenery, and, most importantly, people EAGER to change diapers. And it was great.

But, as I mentioned in an earlier post, when going anywhere with a baby for even a couple of hours, you have to take a lot of stuff. Multiply that stuff times 7 and you have how much I had to take. The following is a list of just some of the items I packed…just for him!!!

1 pack and play
2 pairs pajamas
1 ExerSaucer
1 bottle of baby detergent
1 Play Gym
1 pack of diapers
1 baby bath tub
8 bottles
1 stroller
1 extra large can of formula
2 sleep sacks
20 jars baby food
2 pack and play sheets
6 bibs
1 CD player
10 burp cloths
4 CDs
10 toys
15 outfits
2 towels
3 sleeping gowns
2 types of organic/non-toxic cleaner for toys
6 body suits
1 bottle lotion
1 swimsuit
2 boxes of wipes

You should have seen the back of Dad’s truck after we got everything packed and covered with a bright blue tarp…we literally looked like Jed Clampett and the family moving to Beverly (Hills, that is). We told my mother that since she was “Granny” she should just sit on top. My dad rolled his eyes when he saw it all sitting in my living room, waiting for him to load…but we really did use everything I took…and, I ended up doing 4 loads of laundry!

We had a lot of fun over the week…and Alexander got lots of attention. And, now, the piles of stuff that stood so organized and orderly in my living room just a week ago, are scattered around my dining room, waiting for me to put them away.

Can I please go back to the lake????

Happy Mother's Day!

2008-05-12T11:03:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was Mother’s Day. I won’t say I’ve always appreciated my mom the way I should…there were the typical dark days of teenage-dom when I believed she knew absolutely nothing…but in the past few years, I have come to respect and admire her.

But it wasn’t until I became a mom that I could truly say I appreciated her. I can honestly say that she was the finest example of motherhood and that she is who I model myself after. Here is why:

She was never too busy for us. She could always make time to read or play. I never remember her ever saying that she had something more important to do.

She played with us. She, my brother, and I would play for hours doing things like playing kickball in the yard and taking walks.

She encouraged imagination. My mom could give us a comb covered with wax paper and suddenly, we were in a parade. Or she could throw a quilt over some chairs and we had a fort.

She was silly with us. My mom could stand on her head, or make up funny songs, or read a book with lots of different voices.

She was proud of us. Both she and my dad were our biggest fans

She disciplined us. There were times when she wasn’t so proud of us and she encouraged us to do better.

She never degraded our dreams. She never told us that there was something that we couldn’t do.

She loved us to bits and we knew it, but she never let us disrespect her.

She, and my dad, gave us roots and a great family.

But, when the time came, she let us go.

I hope when Alexander is all grown up, he can look back and say the same things about me.

Guilt Trips

2008-04-30T11:04:00.000-07:00

What does it mean to be a good mother?

I want to be one, but how do you know if you’re doing your job the way you should? How do you evaluate yourself at the end of the day? It’s not like you get quarterly performance reviews or a bonus for a job well done.

Motherhood comes with its own special kind of guilt. Mine started before Alexander was even born. I remember when I was only about 6 weeks pregnant and I took some allergy medication only to find out that it wasn’t approved for pregnant women. Much mental anguish ensued. I was convinced that I had done irreparable damage to my unborn child in my selfish quest to get rid of a runny nose.

Once he was born, it only got worse. In the first days, I was constantly worried that the water I was using to make his bottles contained too much fluoride and was going to give him brain damage. Then there was the first time I gave him gas drops…I gave him the wrong dosage and just knew he was going to have a severe reaction. I could go on. These things are laughable now, but at the time, I drove my husband crazy with my Guilty Mother paranoia.

Even now, at the end of the day, I wonder: Did I play with him enough? Did I hold him enough? They (whoever this mysterious “they” is) say your child is supposed to hear you say 17,000 words a day…did I talk to him enough (I couldn’t say 17,000 words if I were running for public office)? Should I be taking him to Mommy and Me classes? Am I reading enough books to him? Should we be giving him organic baby food? You see where I’m going with this. It never ends. There is always some aspect of my mothering that I question and wonder if I’m doing enough, if I’m enough.

It seems like this is just the mother’s lot in the parenting game. Men don’t seem to have this problem. My husband loves our son and is an excellent father. He feeds him, plays with him, changes him, makes his bottles, cuddles him…he does all the things a loving parent does, all the things that I do. But he doesn’t worry like I do. And he doesn’t seem to have the guilt that I do. He doesn’t seem to worry whether or not he’s a good father.

And Alexander loves us both equally. In the morning, he grins his big toothless grin at me when I get him out of his crib. And, in the afternoon, he grins the same grin at his daddy when he comes home from work.

So, I guess in Alexander’s opinion, Mommy and Daddy both are doing just fine.

All the Thinks I Never Thought

2008-04-22T09:42:00.000-07:00

I am sure most first-time moms can attest to doing things that they never thought they would ever do…because, as we know, before you have a child, you don’t really KNOW anything. You think you do and it’s so easy to judge, but you really don’t know anything. Really…even if you think you do…YOU KNOW NOTHING!

So, here are some things I never thought I would find myself doing, back during my know-nothing days:

I never thought I would ever run errands in faded black sweatpants and a spit-up stained t-shirt with my still unwashed hair tucked into a ball cap and not a scrap of make-up to be found on my face, simply because my mom volunteered to keep the baby for a couple of hours and I had no time between the time she called and the time she arrived to get presentable. I never thought I’d put on a pair of earrings and a little lip gloss and pronounce myself “cute.” Ah, how our standards have fallen.

I never thought I would have definite opinions on baby wipes…which are the perfect degree of wetness, which are easiest to get out of the box, which smell the best. In fact, I never thought I would declare that baby wipes are, in fact, the perfect household item, handy for not only their intended task, but also for wiping hands, faces, spit-up upon carpet (or any other spit-up upon item, for that matter), dirty walls, dirty counters, toys, etc. Seriously, I do not think my house will ever be without a box of these things ever again. I could extol their virtues forever.

I never thought I would be the kind of person who would WANT to extol the virtues of items such as baby wipes.

I never thought I would look at a friend’s new minivan and envy her. I always firmly maintained that I would never drive a minivan (I knew nothing). Now, all I can think is, “Wow…look at all that space.” I’m still not ready to throw-over my SUV, but I see the benefits of the mom mobile.

I never thought I would look at a trip to the grocery store as a break.

I never thought I would think that going to bed at 9:30 was late.

I never thought I would find myself trying to negotiate with a 4 month old.

But, then again, I knew nothing.

When Mommy is Sick...

2008-04-21T08:57:00.000-07:00

When Mommy is sick, everything just falls apart.

I speak from experience.

Over the past month, I have been sick twice, both times for a week. And, let me tell you, it has totally stunk.

It’s bad enough to feel horrible, to be on antibiotic, to have to go to the doctor, and to have absolutely no will to leave the couch. It’s an entirely different matter to be all those things with a 4-month old in the house. He, frankly, does not care that his Mommy is sick as a dog. No, he still wants his bottle at 4 hours on the dot, his silly one-on-one play time, and his rocking before sleep, never mind that Mommy’s arms feel so weak that she fears she can’t support his sumo wrestler weight. It’s not that Alexander is inconsiderate. It’s just that, for this one moment of his life, it is perfectly acceptable for him to not think of anyone but himself.

So, I slogged my way through the week, praying he would take decent naps (he didn’t), hoping my sickness was all in my head (it wasn’t), and wishing that the feel-better-fairy would pay me a visit (she wouldn’t). Thankfully, my mom and dad were able to help a whole lot since my husband had a very busy week and couldn’t really cancel anything…we couldn’t have made it without them.

Even so…the laundry piled up, the junk didn’t get picked up, and I didn’t get to enjoy my boy quite as much as I wanted to last week, which is always hard since his babyhood is so fleeting.

I guess the other side of the “it’s okay for him to think only of himself” coin is “whatever happens right now he will not remember just so long as someone is meeting his eating, changing, and cuddling needs.” So, that’s something, anyway.

But I have absolutely no desire to be sick EVER again. Quite a change from my school days when a sick day was tantamount to a party.

It’s not much of a party, though, when the only guests are a sick mommy and a cranky 4-month old. Give me the daily grind.

Alexander and Joe

2008-04-03T08:36:00.001-07:00

There are many things I used to look forward to in my pre-baby life…weekends, going to the movies, nice dinners, a trip to the library that resulted in a huge stack of books, free time to read those books, etc.

Things are so different now.

Not that I don’t still look forward to those things. I do. Weekends are nice because my husband is around more. I still love movies and dinner out and library runs. But those things are harder to come by now. Weekends aren’t as relaxing because Alexander is always on Alexander’s schedule, no matter what day of the week it is. And, outings are a little more complicated.

So, now, there is one thing, above all other things (besides seeing my son’s first early morning grin) to which I look forward.

My morning cup of coffee.

I literally go to bed at night anticipating how great that cup of coffee is going to taste. I wasn’t like that before A’s arrival. I made my coffee when I got up in the morning, it brewed while I showered, and I drank it while I got ready for work. This was my daily routine, and I really think my coffee habit then came more from a caffeine need.

Now, when 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep is a distant memory, you’d think I would need the caffeine even more. But, I think now, it’s more than that.

See, I’m not in a rush to get the coffee down so that I can make it to work on time. I can linger over it…I drink it while Alexander plays in his bed and I put away clothes in his nursery. I drink it while I return emails and he sits beside me in his bouncer and laughs at the ceiling fan. I drink it while he takes his morning nap in his swing and I sit on the sofa and just watch him.

I never knew a cup of coffee could taste so good. Or maybe, it’s the company.

Child-like Wonder

2008-03-27T06:52:00.001-07:00

I wish I could be a kid again...not just for the whole not having any responsibilities, 3 months of time off in the summer, completely uninhibited thing, although all that would be nice.

I wish I could be a kid again just for all the excitement. My little boy gets excited by the smallest thing...a game of peek-a-boo makes him giggle all over himself, a lamp going on makes his eyes go wide, the mobile over his bed is totally new to him every morning. He approaches each day in a "Wow...I can't wait to see what today holds" kind of way. It's been a long time since I thought about life like that.

Most days are mundane: get up, guzzle down the coffee, begin a list of chores that seems to have no bottom, go to bed and then get up and do the same thing again.

But Alexander doesn't see life like that. Each morning, when I lift him out of his crib, he grins and coos at me as if to say, "Good morning, Mommy...today is going to be great!" And, for him, most days are great...he's fed, changed, bathed when he needs to be. He naps when he wants to. And he has many many people who just think his little hands hung the moon. So, so far, his life is just about perfect. And he's just happy...down in his gut, no holds-barred, can-hardly-contain- himself HAPPY.

But can I really complain? So, I'm not living a life of glamour. So, some days I feel frumpy and like the world is passing me by. So, I'll never perform on Broadway or live in Paris. In the grand scheme of life, do those things really matter? All my needs are met...I have food, clothing, shelter. I have a family and friends who love me. I have the ability to do all the things that I need to do. I've traveled and seen the world. And, now, I get to spend my days with my baby.

All-in-all, I have no right to complain. Funny that a 3-month old can teach you so much about contentment.

I guess tomorrow morning, I'll try to wake up and say, "Good morning, world...today is going to be great!"

My Baby

2008-03-24T11:00:00.000-07:00

My baby is growing up too fast.

He’s already 3 ½ months old and I can’t believe the time is going by so quickly. It seems like just yesterday that we were strapping him into his car seat for the ride home from the hospital. He was so tiny…just 7 lbs when we got home and it took no effort at all to hold him. Rocking him to sleep felt like rocking a little puff of air, he was so light

Now, I look at my strapping boy…he’s pushing 20 lbs, is almost 2 feet long, and so strong that it takes all my strength to keep him from leaping out of my arms. Already, he’s got the itch to move, to explore, to go. And every night when I rock him to sleep, I know that one night, it will be the last time. One night he will tell me that he’s a big boy and he doesn’t need me to rock him. It breaks my heart.

It’s so unfair that those first days at home are such a blur for the mommy…I was still so doped up and in pain from having him and walking around in a daze that I only vaguely remember our first days out of the hospital. Everyone else got to savor and enjoy them. I was just trying to remember if I had had the presence of mind to take a shower or eat that day.

So, now, as I sit in my rocking chair with the night light glowing and lullabies playing softly, I hold my baby close. I smell his hair. I kiss his cheek. I marvel at the small perfection of his hands. And I savor him and try to engrave those moments on my heart so that one day, when he is a big boy, I can really remember what it was like to be the center of his world. And, hopefully, understand that even if he thinks he doesn’t need me to rock him to sleep, he will always need me to be his mom.

2008-03-19T12:30:00.000-07:00

If you're a Mom, this will make you laugh...WATCH!

The Magic of Frank

2008-03-19T09:40:00.000-07:00

My son is barely 3 months old and he loves Frank Sinatra. How, you might ask, do I know that he loves Frank Sinatra?

Ever since birth, my little guy has hated his car seat. Not just a mild dislike or a small aversion…he has a serious hatred for the car seat. All we have to do is put him in it and before we’ve even buckled him in, he begins to whimper. By the time we get the harness fastened and tightened, he is crying. And when we finally get this instrument of torture locked into the base in the car, he is in a full-out howl. Needless to say, car trips were avoided and dreaded.

But, we stumbled upon the magic cure…Frank Sinatra. My husband gave me a Frank CD for Valentine’s Day, and we happened to have an appointment with the pediatrician the next day. Determined to drown out the screams of my indignant child, I turned said CD up very loud. And, to my amazement, the screaming went to a cry, the cry went to a whimper, and then the whimper went to silence. By the time “Blue Moon” was over, the baby was getting drowsy. And when “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” began, he was fast asleep.

I don’t know what it is about Mr. Sinatra…maybe the rhythm, maybe Frank’s smooth style…but the calming benefits never fail. As a matter of fact, as I type this, my just-moments-ago fretful child is dozing in his bouncer while Frank croons “Embraceable You.”

And now, wherever we go, Sinatra is playing in our car. So much so that I am beginning to get completely sick of him. But I suppose I should count my blessings…at least this didn’t happen with Britney Spears!

Strategic Shopping

2008-03-15T09:21:00.001-07:00

As any mother with a small child (or small child-REN) will tell you, getting out of the house to go somewhere is quite a production. You have to not only get yourself and your child dressed and ready, you have to make sure that you have all the necessary supplies to leave home. These essentials can include but are not limited to: bottles, diapers, extra clothes, blankets, bibs, burp cloths, snacks, toys for the car seat, toys for the stroller, and pacifiers. By the time you, the child, and the supplies are ready, you are exhausted and your child is either: A) cranky B)hungry C)wet/dirty D)covered in spit-up or E)all of the above. And you could also be one or all of these things with the possible exception of being wet/dirty (hopefully).

Now, before my son was born, I, just like any outsider could not fully appreciate just how difficult it is to leave home for the day. I ignorantly thought, “How hard can it be? Oh, it’ll be a breeze for me…and I’ll look so put-together, pushing my content child in his stroller, blissfully spending the day running errands.”

How stupid was I?

I have now attempted to take Alexander out shopping 3 times, each with my mother’s help. And, to put it mildly, it’s like going into battle.

There is always something: getting the stroller out, getting the car seat onto the stroller, pacifying the baby because he hates the car seat, finding a way to warm the bottle, praying he doesn’t start screaming before the bottle is warmed, trying to find a place to give the bottle, getting him out of the car seat and trying to shop while holding him because if I leave him in the car seat a moment longer, we are going to have a major breakdown. And don’t even get me started on diaper changes. Let’s just say that having that dirty diaper right before leaving the house might just be a blessing in disguise.

So, I’ve been initiated into running errands with a small child. And I know that my days of casual browsing are done. Now, each stop is like a strategic air strike: I hone in on my target and go for a direct hit.

Oh well…at least there’s still ebay.

Sleeping Like a Baby

2008-03-15T08:53:00.000-07:00

We’re sleep training in our house.

I never knew you had to train someone to sleep. It seems pretty basic to me. You’re tired, you close your eyes, you go to sleep. Simple.

But, apparently, it is not so simple for little ones. Apparently they have to be “trained” to go to sleep.

So, I’ve been reading up on this phenomenon…the Ferber method, the cry it out method, the no-crying method. All have good ideas. But I’ve settled on a new one…the Alexander method.

He has always been a pretty good sleeper and has been sleeping through the night for about a month now. The problem is in getting him to go to sleep. Alexander has been a cuddly baby from birth and enjoys being held, which is sweet and wonderful. And he most likes being held while he sleeps, which was fine when he was a newborn and there was a steady stream of people into our house, clamoring to hold the baby. But, now he is 3 months old. And he weighs 15 pounds. And he still wants to be held while sleeping. And I’m all by myself during the day. You see the problem.

We’ve got our bedtime routine down. It’s naps that are giving us some difficulty. This is partly my fault. He has gotten dependent on his bouncy seat and only wants to nap in it, with me bouncing it with my foot. But, as I said before, he is 15 pounds and quite long and is rapidly outgrowing it, so he has to learn to take naps in his bed.

For some reason, the bedtime routine doesn’t translate to naptime. So I’m doing my best…rocking him until he’s drowsy, putting on lullabies, closing the blinds, unplugging the phone. If I get 30 minutes here and 30 minutes there, I count myself lucky.

And my husband wonders why he comes home some days and I’m still in my pajamas. Didn’t I have all that time to get stuff done while Alexander napped?

Yeah…right.