A trip to the burgh

Brady and I try to go to Pittsburgh to visit my mom and sister at least every few months. This past weekend we got to bring Daddy along with us. It was a short trip, but a fun one. We got to celebrate Grandma and Aunt Von’s birthday on the 2nd and then went to one of the most fun places ever…Kennywood!

Hello Kennywood cowboy

Kennywood is an amusement park near Pittsburgh. Nearly everyone ends up working for them at some point in high school. I worked at their water park down the road, Sandcastle. My sister worked there. One of my best friends met her husband working there. It just rules!

Brady had a blast there and I got to ride 2 rollercoasters. Something I hadn’t done in years. After going to Kennywood at least once a summer, every summer, my whole life it had been 9 years since I had gone. And watching my little boy’s delight as he rode the kiddie turtles was worth every second I had been away.  It was amazing!

On the 4th we cooked out at my aunt’s house and then on Sunday we headed home again. It was really tough to say goodbye to my mom and sister. Brady was so in love with them while we visited and really remembered them this time.

Each time I go home to visit I’m stuck with conflicting emotions. I think of how nice it would be to be able to just drive over to my mom’s and have dinner with her. I think how nice it would be to have a yard, and a car, and more than 2 rooms, to be able to go to the community pool. But I also think of how much I love hanging out in Central Park and walking everywhere and being able to get anything I want or need at any time of the day or night.

Most of all I miss my family and having Brady makes that feeling even more acute because he has to miss them too.

The Most!

I’ve always said to Brady, “how much does Mommy love you?…the most!” The other day I said this to him and he answered me “the most!” It was one of the most heart warming moments of my life! So cute.

Now he’ll answer “how much does Mommy/Daddy love you?” with “the most” every time. And when I ask him who loves him the most he’ll answer either Mommy, Daddy, or kitty. I have to beg to differ with him on that one. Out of everyone in our family, I’d have to say that kitty loves him the least. In fact, if he’s lucky, she’s indifferent. But he loves her very much, so I see where the confusion comes from.

I love Daddy the most if he does this!

Contemplation

I’ve been feeling very contemplative lately and have been trying to stop myself from writing a post entitled “why can’t I get my shit together?” So instead I’m going to write a mushy mommy entry.

As I was lying on the couch holding my sleeping little boy about 20 minutes ago – an activity that I have complained about countless times – I had a sudden and stark realization. It occured to me in the heart-stopping, breath-sucking way that it occurs to you that you will one day die. One day Brady will be separate from me. We will not go on being the two-headed monster that we are today forever.

There will be a day when he won’t ever sleep lying on my chest. When I will no longer be able to kiss his lips and smell his skin and cradle him against my heart the way I do now. One day he will be his own person living his own life. One day he will have secrets from me, things I will never know. There will be days when I have no idea what he’s doing.  One day he will let some girl know more than I will ever know about him and share his life with her instead of me and he won’t ever remember the way we used to live our days together.

Of course he will always be mine and I will do my very very best to make sure that we always have a good relationship – the way I do with my mother. But regardless of that he will absolutely still be apart from me in the future. And I’ll want it that way. But it’s difficult to fathom right now.

So I think I’ll enjoy his sleeping today.

precious

Poked and Prodded and Catheterized…OH MY!

I’m sure Brady will appreciate the fact that I’ve put this up on the web for all to see when he’s oh say 12…

My poor, poor baby is sickly. Actually, he’s feeling much better now, but yesterday he was pretty sickly. He had a fever that kept going up and down and was getting pretty high at times, diarrehea, and general ickyness. I wasn’t very worried until I saw blood in his diaper. Then I called and we got into the pediatrician stat.

Of course we got the doctor that we have gotten every…single…time I have taken Brady in for anything other than a checkup. I swear to you she thinks I’m nutty. But this time I was justified. She wasn’t very concerned and thought the blood was just from the poor bubba’s bum problems. She figured it was a virus, but ran a blood count to be sure. Unfortunately, his white cell count was a little off so she ran some more tests to see if it could be bacterial.

This is where the fun begins. Thank GOD the husband was able to leave work early and come and meet me before this. They had to catheterize my poor baby to get a urine sample. And while this went on, I had to lie across him to keep him still as he screamed “No Mommy, no mommy, no peepee, no peepee!” Once that awful bit was over, I got to lie across him again as they stuck a needle in his arm to get blood. He made it through that fine and was actually coloring with me afterward. Not treating me like I had betrayed our wonderful loving relationship.

Then the worst came…the antibiotic shot. Apparently it hurt…a lot! He is normally pretty ok with shots and cries for a minute or two and then goes back to playing. But for this I had to lie across my screaming son once again while he cried in absolute pain. And he kept crying too. Poor poor angel.

I carried him all the way home (I still can’t believe he wanted me to touch him after I had been a co-conspirator in his torture.) Then he  passed out.

He was in good spirits in the evening and went to bed fine. But at 1am he was up and would not go back to sleep. If we left him in his room he screamed “the bed, the bed, the door, the door, Brady, Brady.” Meaning “Brady wants to be in your bed so come open this door!” When he was in our bed, he was twitching and moving and pinching and kicking to keep himself awake. After about 3 hours of this, he finally, finally fell asleep lying across me. Not a fun night by any stretch.

Today he is feeling much, much better. We are off to the doctor again this afternoon for another blood count and results of the urinalysis. Will update and add photo later.

UPDATE

White cell count is great and Brady is feeling much better! Yay! Antibiotic course to follow.

Sick baby eating Cheerios yesterday

Feeling better and striking a pose!

Happy Mother’s Day

I just wanted to say Happy Mother’s Day to all of you moms and moms-to-be. I hope you all enjoyed it.

Today was warm and sunny and I slept in, went for a run, got my nails done, and ate Two Boots pizza for dinner. Yay! Oh and the husband and Brady got me a Victoria’s Secret giftcard, flowers, and new sunglasses.

All-in-all a super wonderful Mother’s Day.

We played in the park today!

The zoo!

Brady's polar bear friend

Yesterday a friend and his almost four-year-old son came into the city and we trekked down to the Central Park Zoo. When we planned this outing, we had no idea it was going to be 92 degrees outside. So it was a bit less fun than expected due to the heat, but still a good time.

Both of the boys adored the penguins. You can stand right up next to the glass and they dive and swoop right in front of your eyes. Brady was convinced they were fishies and Sean told him that they were not. However, he didn’t believe they were birds either. When promted to tell us what they were he thought for a minute and replied “penguins.” Of course!

The polar bears were also popular. But the big zoo wasn’t anywhere near the hit that the children’s zoo was. Brady was a huge fan of the bunnies, which he calls mummies. And both of the boys loved the sheep. Sean liked feeding them, but

Checking out the "mummies"

Brady was not a fan. Overall, I’d say the zoo was a little pricey for what was there, but still worth the trip.

After we left – hot and sticky and sweaty and exhausted – we stopped at a vendor where Sean got ice cream and Brady got a popsicle to share with us. He was happy to eat it, but when it was all gone he lost his mind! Seriously. This was his worst fit to date. After he screamed for 7-8 blocks I finally picked him up.

He was happy to have me carry him, but would not let me transfer him to daddy, or even switch his head from one shoulder to the other. And so I carried him, in flipflops, with his head on my left shoulder all…the…way…home. About a mile and a half by my estimation.

Petting a sheep

It sucked, but I did feel pretty strong. Oh the things a mother can accomplish when she has to.

A first

Yesterday was the first day of Brady’s life that I did not nurse him. I know this might sound very strange to some people, but it’s what’s good in our family. He’s not weaned yet and we’ll just see what happens with that, but I feel a sense of freedom that I had been longing for since he was born. I also feel a sense of loss.

I went to a writer’s group that a friend of mine’s husband runs with a girl I used to work with. We had been wanting to try the husband putting B to bed without me for a long time. But his bedtime routine works so we’ve also been afraid to mess with it. Currently, I nurse him before bed, although we put him into the crib awake and he goes to sleep there. Consequently, I either try to do whatever I might want to do before he goes to sleep and get home by 8 or I have to do whatever it is after he goes to sleep and not go out until after 9. This means that unless my friends are willing to come to my neightborhood I don’t see them without the baby.

Before last night there were 3 times that Brady has been put to bed without me. Twice by the husband when I was doing the super fun task of seeing my psychiatrist and one of those times he was actually still up when I got home and I put him to bed anway. And one time when the husband and I went to a wedding and Brady cried himself to sleep with my mother and sister.

But last night this ended. I can now go do things – like writers’ group or book club or go to the psychiatrist – and not worry that Brady will be up all night. It’s strange, but it makes me kind of sad that he doesn’t need me to put him to bed anymore. It was something that was wholly my domain and for which I had to take responsibility. Of course, on the plus side, I won’t have to worry so much when the husband and I go to an engagement party in two weeks. It opens up a whole new world to us. The world of seeing people again. Kind of amazing.

He's getting so big!

Brady is becoming such big boy! Sometimes I think that I’ll blink and he’ll be running out the door to play baseball with his friends. For now, I think I’ll just enjoy this toddler thing and try not to be too sad when he calls for Daddy when he wakes up in the night.

Swim said the mamma fishie

Swimming!

Brady and I have been taking swim classes at the 92nd St Y since last September and we LOVE it! Brady is into swimming. He loves the water and he’s not afraid at all. When he was smaller I found it difficult to justify paying for a lot of the classes available. I think most of them are just an excuse to get out of the house and to meet other moms. But swimming makes sense to me. My mom took me as a baby and I have always loved it.

At the very least I figure he’s learning not to be afraid. He has made progress too. He can go underwater, he climbs out of the pool, pushes himself off the side to me, and will walk right off the edge of the baby platform to me. He kick, kick, kicks, and is beginning to pull, pull, pull.

The pool at the Y is too cold and the family locker room is a disaster. There are very few places to change babies and no place to change mommies or daddies. If a dad comes to class there is definite danger of the viewing of parts. Ugh. I’m no prude and I’m certainly not modest when it comes to nudity, but honestly, I’d just rather not.

Fortunately, the instructors and the other moms and kids more than make up for the downsides. Our first instructor, Amy, was THE BEST, and we’ll be making sure we’re in one of her classes again next session. Our current instructor Terry, is great too, just a little more timid. Brady is a submerge me and get on with it type of kid. He doesn’t like gentle dipping into the water.

The other moms I’ve met there have been awesome and even though all the kids are different ages, they always seem to get along. Brady is the only boy though. We’ve yet to encounter another male in one of the baby classes. The older classes do seem to have boys and we’ll be moving up next session so maybe Brady will meet some.

Overall, the swim classes at the 92nd St Y are awesome – and much cheaper than elsewhere too. And I love seeing my little fishie swim!

Cool things about toddlers

Having a toddler at home can be very cool. Brady learns new things everyday and never ceases to make me laugh.  There are also some very un-cool things about toddlers – like their tendency to stomp and scream and cry when not allowed to do things like play with broken glass.  But I thought I’d share some of the nicer things about life with a 1.5 year old.

• They like to do things like wear Mommy’s shoes
• They love to give hugs and kisses
• And say “mommy”
• And dance
• They try to do “big boy” things

• They sing songs (sometimes about pizza!)
• They like to help out around the house
• They are so darn cute!

Mommy guilt and the writer’s life

Don't feel bad, Mommy.

There are so many ways to rack up mommy guilt these days. Stay home with them too much and you’re stifling their social skills. Stay away from them too much and you’re endangering the parent-child bond. Do something in between and you’re either wasting your husband’s money or wasting your own time.

I have always, always had a problem with guilt. I like to blame it on 9 years of Catholic schooling (complete with nuns), but in reality I think it’s just part of my makeup. I go so far as to feel guilty for feeling guilty because my guilt might be selfish and I don’t want to be selfish. That doesn’t make much sense and believe me I know it.

As I sit here at Starbucks I am feeling guilty for the following things:

- my mother-in-law watching my child when I have no billable work to do

- not being outside while the sun is out

- not taking this time to clean my apartment which was cleaned yesterday

- wanting to read other blogs instead of writing mine

- feeling like anyone actually cares whether or not I write on my blog

But my real problem here is that in order to be a writer, one must be selfish. You have to be willing to carve out that time and not do other things. You have to be willing to believe that other people will give a flying frig about what you have to say. Ultimately, you have to believe that you and your writing are worth the effort.

When I was in school this was easy. I had to write for my grades. I was paying someone else to teach me to write and to tell me to write. Once I was out of school it was much harder and now that I’m a mom it is very very difficult! It is next  to impossible for me to justify that my writing – which is not currently getting me any sort of compensation – is worthy of my letting someone else play with my kid and maybe turning down a paying editing gig and letting the housework wait until tomorrow.

Maybe somewhere in my early life my wires got crossed. I got this guilt complex and the urge to be a writer (and hopefully some talent at it). Two things that do not mesh well.

But one thing I’m trying not to feel guilty for is realizing that I owe it to myself to follow this through. I only get one life and since the beginning of my memory I have wanted to spend it writing. Doesn’t that deserve a real chance? Then there’s that $120k degree in writing that I’m still paying off. If that isn’t motivation, I don’t know what is.