Oink, oink, diggity dear...

Please add this post to the every growing list of New Mom on the Blog posts that are nothing about being a "new mom."  Also add it to the also lengthy list of blog posts tagged under "shameless self-promotion."

Jazz hands for days.

As I teased in my previous post (and blamed for my two-month blog hiatus), I had the pleasure of seeing a school year's worth of work come to fruition at my place of employment.  For the entire school year, we've been working on putting together our very first musical at the school I work for, and on June 6 what was once a silly dream became a magical reality.  To describe it in words doesn't seem fair - it was truly one of the coolest things I've every done.

In a rare NMOTB moment, I am sharing an interview I did with my co-worker, colleague, and friend Tyler on his podcast (The Urban Therapist) which I actually listen to weekly and LOVE.  (Does anyone else listen to podcasts?  Tyler got me hooked and I can't imagine my commute without them now.)  So, not only will you get to find out what I've been doing instead of blogging for the past few months, you'll get to hear me speak about what I do as a music therapist.  (Well, one of the things I do as a music therapist, there's a little more to it than this if you can believe it.)

The first half of the podcast is my interview followed by comments by the hosts (Tyler & Andrea).  They continue after the Three Piggy Opera part of the podcast with even more intriguing things (such as homemade kefir and public transit.)  I highly recommend you subscribe and listen to them - I generally learn something new and interesting (sometimes unrelated to music therapy) and am always quite entertained.  (And I'm not just saying that because they spend a large portion of this episode saying nice things about me...this podcast is one of my favorites.)

So - listen, enjoy, learn something new.
Follow this link and there are options for streaming the podcast or for downloading it for free on iTunes.

It's just another day...

I teased this when I answered a question in my most recent AFONM post.  I had to really dig into the archives of my addled brain for this, but I truly hope it will help someone who is planning to breast feed and work outside the home.  Your breast pump will become your friend.  Enjoy those days.  They won't last forever and the last time you pump, you'll feel oddly nostalgic.  And a little free.  Enjoy that too.  So, here you go...(this was after I dropped my totally unnecessary 3rd and 4th pumping sessions).

A Day in the Life of NMOTB {Circa 2010-2011}

5:00 am - My wake up call.  I get showered, dressed, and ready for the day.  I pack my lunch, eat breakfast, and prepare for a speedy exit all before waking up the baby (if I can help it.)  If the baby does wake up, that's my husband's wake up call.  Morning, honey.

6:00 am - Go get the sleeping baby and dress him (early on, you may just want to leave him in his jammies because younger babies are more prone to spit up and the less wardrobe changes the better.)  With this in mind, I usually don a robe over my work clothes to avoid a wardrobe change for me as well.  Sit down for a bit to nurse him for his first morning feeding.  Usually he sticks to one side in the morning. (I would switch him half way through when we were first starting out to even out my supply.)

6:30 am - Baby finishes morning feeding.  I hand him off to daddy who would does the morning drop off.  (He has a home office and doesn't have to punch a clock.  I, on the other hand, almost never make it to work on time and need to leave immediately, breast pump in tow.)

7:30 am - I arrive at work and start my morning by answering emails, chatting with co-workers, and preparing myself for the day.

8:00 am - Door is locked, breast pump is on and in place.  This will be my most lucrative pumping session.  Usually able to pump between 15-20 ounces in a 20 minute session.  (Do not fret, my pet.  This is the most ridiculous amount of milk and is not the norm.  Amount of milk per session varies per woman, but know that this yield was odd.  I would say something around 5-10 ounces is more normal for this first session.  Especially after you have fed your baby less than two hours before.  Ignore my freak boobs.)  These exact bottles will go to the sitter's house tomorrow to eat.  TIH always got milk that was no more than a day old.

8:30 am - I am already back to work.  Pumped milk has been divided equally among the 4 bottles he usually takes while at the sitter's house and stored in my mini fridge.  (TIH would take 5 ounces at a time from a bottle.  This is more than other kids.  Usually 3-4 is more of the norm.  This may explain the freak boobs.)  My pump parts have been wiped clean and stored in the fridge as well.

8:30-11:00 am - Work, workity, work.

11:00 am - Much needed lunch break.

12:00 pm - If I had a 3rd pumping session, this is when I would do it.  I got rid of it a long time ago though, so suck it!  I'm going to take a nap in my office send more emails.

2:00 pm - Door is locked, breast pump is on and in place.  This pumping session yields about 6-8 ounces (again, freak boobs).  I store the milk in 2 ounce increments in storage bags which will be frozen when I go home. I label those storage bags with the date and the amount.  The session lasts about 15 minutes and then I return to work.

3:45 pm - Time to pack up for home.  I take all of the cold milk out of the refrigerator and move it into a soft cooler with ice packs that I've stored in the freezer in the staff lounge.  A few times I will leave this cooler at work and be more mad at myself than you can even imagine.

4:00 pm - Clock out, head home to pick up TIH from the sitter's house.  When I get there, she tells me when his last bottle was (usually around 3:00 pm) and gives me the empty bottles from the day (she was a doll and would rinse them for me so I could put them straight in the dishwasher when I got home).

5:00 pm - TIH and I are both home and sitting down for his evening nursing session (I always started on the opposite side of the morning feeding since he usually stuck on one side in the morning.)  My husband makes dinner (I know, it's a charmed life) and I watch DVR'd episodes of Real Housewives (Teresa was nuts back then too.)

5:30 pm - Having cleaned my pump parts in warm soapy water, I use one of those sterilization bags made by Medela to clean the parts in the microwave.  I place the storage bags of milk in the freezer among others, making sure that the older bags of milk are more accessible (use your older milk first.)  This is a great idea for storing those bags and I wish I had thought of it!  I put the bottles from today's pumping sessions in the refrigerator to be sent to the sitter's in the morning. (My sitter also has a small supply of frozen milk [5-10 ounces] in case she needed an additional bottle besides what I pumped.)

6:00 pm - I pack a set of clean bottles, my sterilized pump parts, and more milk storage bags into my pump bag and I am ready for the next day.


(I would then nurse TIH on demand for the rest of the night, but usually he would just need one long feeding right before bed and he would be good to go.  He would get a meal of solids while we ate dinner as well, so he was usually pretty dang full by bedtime.)

Got that?  It was actually pretty simple.  And took less than an hour out of my work schedule.  I could have easily pumped during my lunch break, if that was the only opportunity I was afforded.  I just got lucky in that regard.  I didn't always love my breast pump, but it really did make my goal (of breast feeding for one year) much more realistic and attainable once I returned to work.

Because of my supply abundance, I ended up with a lot of frozen milk in storage that allowed us to bring bottles with us in public places (I did not like nursing in public) and also allowed me to stop pumping entirely when TIH was 11 months.  That was pretty sweet.

Now, here's my supply list.  These people aren't paying me, but I sure do love them for the comfort they provided me in that first year.  (And if they wanted to send me some swag, I wouldn't say no. </end shameless sponsorship plug>)

Breast pump:

Medela Pump In Style

Bottles:
These came with the breast pump and worked the best for us.  Again, we just got lucky.  Most people will have to try a lot of different brands.  Specific brands are more compatible with breast feeding, so definitely keep that in mind when selecting a bottle.

Medela Bottles/Nipples

Storage bags:

Lansinoh Storage Bags

Sterilization Bags:

Medela Quick Clean Bags

Cooler:
We had two - one for me to bring to work and one for the sitter's house.  You could probably use any sort of insulated lunch bag with some ice packs.

Munchkin Cool Wrap Bottle Bag

Questions?  Email me!  I have answers.

I've been everywhere, man...

Oh, hey.

Let's just avoid all awkwardness and the obvious fact that the last post on this blog wasn't even written by ME (as well as the fact that it was posted in May) and pretend like it never happened.

Great.

I mean, before I could even write this post, I deleted at least 100 spam comments that got through in my absence, so it's not like there wasn't new content being generated.  Plus, I have several interested sponsors to sell things like bidets and psychic readings.  (As well as some sort of flash light, but the website made me feel uncomfortable, so I'm not sure that one will work out.)

In other words, I've hit the big time in the world of blogging.

What have I been doing?  I'm glad you asked.  I'll make a list.  I'm good at lists.

1.  Running!  I finally took my own advice and started running.  And then I became one of those annoying people that posts about it on Facebook all of the time and obsessively looks at her MapMyRun routes.  Please feel free to follow me on Instagram so you can see more screen captures of my running stats than you would ever care to see.  So far, I've run in two organized events (5Ks) with hopes to do more as well as maybe run more than 3 miles at a time some day.  I'm not destined for marathons, but I absolutely love the way I feel before, after, and during a good run.  I finally know what everyone has been talking about.  (Shut up, Amanda.)

2.  I went from reading lots of books in a year to reading one in a 4 month period (and it was one of the Harry Potter books) so I joined a book club with girlfriends from work.  It has been fantastic and those girls can read way faster than me, so keeping up has cut into valuable blogging time.  (Not that I am complaining - every book has been fantastic.)

3.  We have a few free months of Showtime right now and I have chosen to watch as many seasons of Dexter as I can before it gets taken away.  If anyone has a problem with that, I now know how to murder all of you and pretty much get away with it, so I would shut it.

4.  Exploring our new city has been one of the most exciting parts of this summer.  Sure, we're doing a lot of touristy-type things (prior to living here, I'd been to Chicago three times and two of them were before I was even ten years old.)  I'm learning which pizza places are my favorite, which train lines I need to take to get where, and just breathing in every aspect that I can.  I love it here.  LOVE IT.  (St. Louis, you are still home and I love you too.  I can love lots of places.)  When I found out we were moving, I adopted this mantra - joy is where you are - and so all of this has been an exercise in making this new place our home.  Sometimes I feel like I'm cheating on my family and friends back in St. Louis, but mostly, I feel joy.  Who knew I'd love living right smack dab in the middle between a cornfield and a skyscraper.  Talk about balance.  So, joy is where I are.  Or am.  Whatever.

6.  Oh, yes.  I decided to battle this one just before The Incredible Hulk turned 3.  We have been mostly* successful.  (* - I still clean my fair share of poo out of little boy briefs.  We're working on it.  I am really proud of him.)  I can't wait to share with all of you my methodology as well as my general NMOTB comedy, but I just have to sit down and write it.  It's coming.  I promise.

7.  It isn't as though I am new to Pinterest (and I have over 3000 pins to prove that), but lately I've been very interested in cooking for my family and figuring out a way for us to lead a healthier lifestyle through the food we eat.  And doing all of it on a budget.  Everyone has different ideas of what the word "healthy" means, but for me it means eating mostly produce, whole grains, and a variety of foods that involve the least amount of processing as possible.  (Or, if I'm tired, a bowl of sugary cereal or a hot dog - because I like to keep it real.)  For awhile, I've been posting info about my monthly meal planning on my personal Facebook, and I've since been encouraged to share that here.  In truth, meal planning is something REALLY important to New Moms.  Being willing to throw that plan out the window and order a pizza is really important too.  So, I'll do my best.  I am going to try out a few new recipes a month (and I'll be sharing them on the blog), I recycle ones that work (you can find those on this board mostly), add in a few easy go-tos, as well as some tried and true family recipes (those will never be shared, but you're welcome to try to figure them out...)  Think I'm doing it wrong?  You're probably right.  But, my family never goes to bed hungry, so there's that...



Other than that, I've been singing, sewing, grocery shopping, cleaning...damn, it's a good thing I don't play Bridge, I sound like a housewife from the 50s.

But, mostly, what I've been doing is really and truly enjoying life.  Maybe it's the trips to the city.  Maybe it's the beautiful weather.  Maybe it's just the fact that life (while not totally free from struggle and stress and sadness) has been in a delightful state of stasis after a year which was far from it.  I think back to where I was one year ago and my eyes fill with tears of gratitude over that time of uncertainty being over.  (Not to say that you're ever fully free from uncertainty, but at least that period in particular is over.)  So, enjoying life it is.  Doing the ordinary mom-type things that develop content for this blog and also eat up all of my time to put it on paper (or, rather - screen.)

For that, I am grateful.  Now, if you'll excuse me - I have a list full of posts to write.

We all need somebody to lean on...

I wrote this post months ago and forgot about it. Seriously, the two pregnant women I mention at the beginning are both in their 3rd trimesters now and we moved after I wrote this so TIH is in at a new preschool (which we LOVE).  But, since most of the stuff is still true, I can post it now.  I love it when blog posts have been written for me already.

I wish I could say that my husband and I have never had a single issue with our childcare provider(s) throughout the over 2 years since I returned to work from my maternity leave.

However, I can't.   When we sold our house, we left a center we absolutely loved to go to a place that we really didn't even like that much.  But, we chose it because it was close enough to my dad's house and didn't totally break the bank.

As with most things in life, when you cut costs you also inevitably sacrifice quality.
We tried to make this place work for a good 4 months (which is honestly 4 months longer than we ever thought we would be there), but eventually the number of our complaints outweighed the reduced cost we were getting.  So, we started looking again.

The day that we went "daycare shopping," we happened to spend some time with a couple of couples who recently told us they were expecting their first children.  Both women plan to return to work when the time comes, and yet, here I was with another one of my New Mom on the Blog horror stories.  I tried to back peddle halfway through what I was saying after seeing the horrified looks on both of their faces, but I know I need to go one step further.

The thing is, I've received a lot of criticism from people for enrolling my child in a daycare center.  For some reason, daycare centers have this stigma of being dirty, disease-infested, money machines who will abuse and neglect your child for the low, low price of $1500.00 a month.  And unfortunately, our most recent experience was pretty much that (give or take a few hundred dollars.)

But, today on the blog, I'd like to talk about all of the reasons why sending your child to a child development center is not just a great idea (and something that you shouldn't fear at all), but also why it is mother-flipping AWESOME.



Reason #1 - Nap time
It takes about a full hour from start to finish to get TIH down for a nap on the weekend and almost always involves taking a ride in the car (which is somehow the fastest way to induce toddler sleep.)  At daycare?  Not only does he lay down on his cot with minimal prompting, he almost always falls asleep within minutes of laying down, and proceeds to sleep for THREE FREAKING HOURS (on the weekends, we are high-fiving ourselves if we get an hour and a half.)  I would love to know their secret to such nap-ful bliss, at the very least to save us some gas money on the nap rides.

Reason #2 - Art Work
If you follow me on Pinterest, you may believe I am some sort of crafty goddess, but you would most assuredly be wrong.  In fact, I have an entire Facebook album dedicated to craft projects I've made and not screwed up.  (There are five pictures in it.  Two of them are of brownies.  Made from a packaged brownie mix.)

Don't get me wrong.  It was delicious.

So, when I've attempted art projects with TIH, it almost always turns into a big, fat, FAIL.  Most recently, I attempted to make this project, but instead ended up with this:

Nailed it.

Even though it doesn't state it in the directions, you probably should not leave your toddler (still holding a paint brush, still covered in paint, still with open paint pots) alone while you go retrieve paper towels to clean up his hands.

At daycare?  They would have never made this mistake.  And even if they did, the place is practically a Hobby Lobby filled with all of the crafting supplies you could ever imagine and furniture that can be wiped down within an inch of it's life.  My kid is only two years old and I already have a large binder FILLED with his paintings and drawings.  It's amazing and it allows me to leave the crafting up to the experts.  Otherwise we end up with things like this:

I wish I could blame this flower pot address marker on TIH, but this one was all me.

Reason #3 - Parents Night Out
A long time ago, my husband and I used to actually go places and get dressed up and eat dinner and have adult conversations.  We are lucky enough to have a bunch of family members who are always willing and able to take TIH so that we can have a date night.  But, sometimes those people have lives too.  Or, they want to do things WITH US.  Enter: PNO.  This is where we pay our licensed, degreed, and AWESOME childcare workers a (very, very small) fee so that my husband and I can have 4 hours of freedom while TIH gets fed pizza, makes more of the aforementioned craft projects, and plays with his friends.  The result?  Mom and Dad still have what resembles a social life/marriage and TIH has a freaking blast.  Win/win.

Reason #4 - Spanish
Do you know what language I took in high school?  Latin.  Yes.  The dead language.  Sure, my ACT/SAT scores rocked and I still have an above average vocabulary (not that you'd know it from this blog), but as for being functional...nope.  And it also isn't really something you can teach your kid (not that I remember enough to do so anyway.)  At TIH's daycare, a Spanish teacher comes once a week to teach them basic Spanish vocabulary.  If I tried to teach my kid basic vocabulary in another language, it would sound like this:

Reason #5 - Diapers
I've said it before and I'll say it again: I am kind of okay with someone else changing the diapers for 8 hours.  If I leave you with no other reason why daycare is awesome?  This is it.




I will tell the truth - it isn't easy to drop your kid off in the hands of people you don't really know that well.  The first time made me feel like I had been punched in the stomach.  But, it gets easier.  There will be tears at times, but another great thing about daycare - and this is probably the best part - they're there to give the hugs and wipe the tears that I can't.

And that?  Is worth way more than $1500.  (Give or take a few hundred.)

I want it all...

Disclaimer: I'm doing something on the blog that I've never done before and never planned to do.  I am responding to another post that recently enraged me.  There is nothing overtly wrong with what the author says, and she clearly comes from a supportive place.  She is right.  Our culture could do more to support breast feeding.  But, she has some pretty radical view points (most of which are derived from her psychoanalytic background, and lemme tell ya, this behaviorist ain't buying it), and as a breastfeeding mother human being, I am completely offended.  This is only my response to her view points by expressing my own.  I am not out to attack, berate, or other wise demonize this woman.  That said?  She pissed. me. the. frack. off.

I had a rule when I started this blog that I wouldn't make the entire thing about breast feeding.  In truth, the topic did seem to be integrated into every aspect of the first year of being a new mom.  Now that we've closed that chapter, I really thought I could move on. (I have a guest post coming up about the topic, but other than that I've been planning to write about other things.)

I have to admit, I'm terrible at social networking lately.  I skim through my Twitter feed as best I can, but most of the time I don't truly digest anything and I rarely click on links (even though my tweeps always have awesome things to share.)  But, for some reason, the link above caught my attention.  Honestly, I wish I could have gone without reading it.  Because I am just floored by how judgmental this opinion is.

It is a difficult and selfless thing to decide to become a parent.  No matter HOW you decide to go about it.  We make excruciating decisions about the silliest little things and are all constantly scared that the decision was the right/wrong one.

One decision I never struggled with was my decision to be a working mother after I had The Incredible Hulk.  I was encouraged (by a wonderful and supportive boss) to take as much maternity leave as humanly possible (even beyond what FMLA would allow.)  She even was willing to allow me to come back part-time at first if that would work better for my family.  It didn't. It wouldn't. And it doesn't.

I have always known that being a stay at home mom would never work for me.  Money, sanity, and the fact that I love what I do has always made the decision easy.  I have had some people be very loving, accepting, and encouraging in my decision to be a working mom (some of whom were working moms themselves, some of whom weren't.)  I've also had people be very judgmental, condescending, and not at all supportive of that choice.  Perhaps it is those experiences with people which made me even more, shall we say, prickly about this article.

Listen, I haaaaaaaaaaaated pumping.  Hated it.  But, parenting - no - life is about sacrifice.  I wanted/had to work.  I wanted to breast feed.  So, I pumped.

No, it isn't the perfect substitute.  And yes, some studies (though there is still very much to know about the science of breast milk) suggest that the mechanism of breast feeding is as important as the composition of the milk itself.  However, the author states that to be a breast feeding mother is to be "exquisitely attuned" to your baby's needs and patterns of feeding.  She then further suggests that substituting a pump for a breast would cause you to miss out on the "building blocks of an intimate relationship with one's child."

To make this suggestion is not only judgmental - it's just plain wrong.

If this were the truth, the relationship between my son and I wouldn't have reached it's full potential.
If this were the truth, the relationship between any formula-feeding mom and her child would not be "intimate."
If this were the truth, the relationship between my son and his father would be almost non-existent up to this point.
If this were the truth, any set of parents who have ever adopted a child or used surrogacy would not be able to have a relationship with their child.

Enraged yet?
Yeah, me too.

You know what, folks?  She's wrong.  She's just wrong.  Breast feeding mothers do have a unique bond with their children.  You know why?  Because all parents have a unique bond with their children.  It doesn't matter where you come from or how you do it - you're always going to be tied to that little life you are so so so lucky to be a part of.  To suggest that a mother who gives her child a bottle (whether it be all of the time or some of the time) is less of a parent is...misguided at best.

Do I wish I had the option for additional paid maternity leave?  Heck yeah.  It also would have been awesome not to have to dip into my own vacation time in order to take as much maternity leave as I did (because Lord knows that is not a vacation.)  It's awesome that this woman is trying to lobby for that.  But leave the attachment I have to my son out of it.

If the government allowed me to take a year (even a year where they paid my full salary and benefits), I still wouldn't have done it.

And that doesn't make me a bad mother.
On the contrary - I think knowing my limits, knowing what works for me and my family, and knowing what I'm willing to do and where I draw the line?

That makes me a great mother.

Time is on my side...

The job I'm in now was my first career job post-college.  Starting at age 16, I worked a lot of part-time jobs (often more than one at the same time) in order to scrape together enough money for a car payment and gas.  I received my first promotion when I was only 17 years old while working in a little girl's clothing store (in a time where I could actually still fit into some of the clothes.)  From there, I began a long line of successful part-time employments in which I was named "Employee of the Month" (or whatever its variation) at each different job I held.  If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm kind of a big deal.

Kidding.

But, I do take pride in my work.  I am not the kind of employee who receives disciplinary action.  I'm the kind of employee who receives gold stars and my picture on the wall and failing that - I'm the person people like to have work for them.

The first time I ever received any kind of correction from an employer was because I was singing along to Christmas music on the radio while we were closing up shop at a bank I worked at.  No customers were present at the time - everything except for the drive thru was closed.  But, I still got a phone call from my boss and a stern "talking to" about maintaining professional behavior.  A month later, I wrote my very first letter of resignation and told him exactly where he could stick his "professional behavior."

Kidding.

My current job is fabulous.  I am doing a job in which I'm actually using the knowledge I gained in college and I have a true passion for the type of work I'm doing.  Being a working mom, as I've said before, was always a no-brainer for me because I couldn't possibly imagine not coming back to the work place I have come to love so much.

That being said, being a working mom is hard.  I mean, being a mom in general is hard, don't get me wrong.  Being a stay at home mom?  I'd surely die, it's so stressful.  But, getting out the door with you, your husband, and the baby completely ready to go for the day?  Difficult. Getting out the door on time?  Damn near impossible.  I try to get systems in place so that I don't spend the entire morning scrambling to walk out the door with both me and the baby fully clothed, but no one can plan for the chaos that inevitably happens three seconds before we get in the car.  The baby spits up or I suddenly lose my one and only set of keys.  Or, I make it out the door and realize half way to the baby sitter's house that I've completely forgotten The Incredible Hulk's food for the day.  And we all know, TIH does NOT like to go without food.

Even barring any major crisises (crises? crisi?), you can't expect to make it to work on time when a tornado literally makes its path through your commute.




Not kidding.



My facility recently revised policy to deal with a widespread timeliness problem we've been having.  It's hard to make one policy fit for every different discipline and specific job duty for such a large facility.  And it's even harder to write 100 different policies for every individual person or even every individual department - so they're just doing the best they can.  The revised policy states that you cannot be even just one minute late to clock in. 

Before I had a kid, I probably wouldn't have even noticed that they changed this policy.  I was almost always on time, if not early for work.  I am kind of an overachiever in that way.  Not surprisingly, my tardies have become more frequent since I had TIH, but last week, my supervisor alerted to me to just how frequent they had become.

Turns out?  I'm basically late (even if by just one minute) every. damn. day.

I mean, I was late for 8 consecutive days following the tornado due to detours, highway closure, and rubber necking.  But, the days leading up to and following that were really nothing more than just a general difficulty of getting out of the house.

I knew motherhood would change me.  I knew my priorities would realign.  I did not know that it would make me feel like the world's worst employee.  But, there it was - in yellow highlighter on my time sheet.  Day after day after day of changed priorities.  Of poor performance.

You should know, my supervisor at work is awesome.  He's great with positive feedback.  He never micromanages.  And, as someone with a family and a long commute himself, he completely understands that sometimes it's hard to get to work on time.  He was careful to point out that he was only showing me my time sheet to make me aware for when this new policy goes into effect.  He was very validating that never being just one minute late is impossible.  He made sure I knew this wasn't a warning of any kind. 

Not a disciplinary action or even a slap on the wrist.  It was just to help me.  But, you guys - this kind of stuff does not happen to me.  I never get called out on mistakes at work because they just don't happen.  I'm an overachiever in that way and I know it's obnoxious, but it's just how I am.  Staring at my time sheet, long after my supervisor had left my office, I realized a little part of the perfectionist in me died when I became a mom.

And to tell the truth?  I'm not so sure that's a bad thing.



I've been on time every day since I saw the glaring highlighted reality of my tardiness (save the day where there were 3 different major accidents along my commute.)  But, I'm trying to give myself a break.  Moms make mistakes.  And sometimes they're not just the parenting fails this entire blog is devoted to.

Just another lesson in the balancing act that is motherhood.
Some day I'll get it right.

Stop in the name of love, before you break my heart...

I am a working mother.
When it comes down to it, I wouldn't have it any other way.  In fact, the week before I went back to work after maternity leave (a week in which I refused to set down the baby and just sat and sobbed constantly, it was LOVELY), I remember telling someone that even though I was sad to leave the baby - I would be even sadder to let someone else do my job.  I mean, after all - I spent a good portion of my life, lots of energy, and lots of money learning and making sure I would be good at that job.

I'm writing this down because I'm having to remind myself of it every morning as that little Incredible Hulk face watches me leave him.  Because folks - it's devastating.

On mornings when my husband does the drop-offs, I'll load everything in the car and leave giving TIH a kiss and a hug for last.  Then, I set him down on the floor to play and try to scurry out the door.  Except that he thinks this is all some sort of fun game Mommy is playing and he tries to crawl-chase me out the door with the HUGEST smile on his face.  So, I have to slam the door quickly shut behind me, but not before I see his little face fall with the realization - Oh, she's leaving again.  It. KILLSME.

There have been a few mornings where I've had to drop him off at daycare and he always looks very pleased when we show up at Jade's house and gives big smiles to her and to all of his friends.  But then, it settles in.  And he watches as I make my way towards the door - Oh, so that's how it is.

KILLSME.

Yesterday morning, I ran out of her door, screaming, "Don'tlookdon'tlookdon'tlook."  She probably thought I was crazy. 
I am.
But, still...

When I come to pick him up, I notice it takes him a minute to realize I'm really there.  His face lights up and he reaches for me and hugs me in his little baby way - Oh, my gosh!  Is it really you?!

And then, he doesn't want to let me go.  So, I usually end up having to spend my first hour at home holding TIH.  If I try to put him down?  He throws what I can only describe as a temper tantrum - though I thought he was a little young for this.

But really, it's okay.  I can start the dishes, check the mail, kick off my shoes, and use the bathroom (No, seriously.  My husband had to stand outside the door with him the other day with the door open to keep him from having a TIH-sized meltdown.) with one hand.

Do I have my doubts about being a working mom?  Yes.  My mother worked, but not full-time, so I don't really have a blue print to go off of for a family with two working parents.  So, much like everything that comes with motherhood - I'm honestly just winging it.

One of my favorite quotes has always been:

Do the things you have to do when you have to do them, so you can do the things you want to do when you want to do them.

So, baby, Mommy has to go to work right now.  Even though she reallyreallyreallyreally wants to stay at home and play.  But I promise you this: one day you're going to get to do all of the things you want to do (go on fun vacations, live in a nice house, go to a good college) exactly when you want to do them.

At least that's how I'm validating my "working-mom" self for today.
Until then, the smile on his face when he sees me come home is enough for me.

Glitter and be gay...

You'd think after 3 months back in the work force, I would have SOME sort of system figured out to make sure I left the house with all of the necessary items to go about my day.  If really do think that, you don't know me very well.  For being an obsessionally organized, worried, crazy, freak - I actually am pretty forgetful.  My poor husband has made several trips in which he has had to shuttle various forgotten items to me (a 70-mile-round-trip mistake, mind you) to rescue me: his poor, feeble-minded little wife.

For example: yesterday, I forgot to eat breakfast.  Unless you count eating cookies while packing them in my lunch.  In which case, I had a rather large breakfast.  I try my best to plan ahead, but then I spend the evening making a mess butternut squash baby food, and things get a little out of control.

Today, I shut myself into my office to pump (ah, the joys of being a working, breastfeeding, mommy) and it was at this exact moment that I realized an error in my chaotic messy perfectly organized planning this morning.

Purse?  Check.
Lunch? Check.
Coffee?  Am I alive?  Then, check!
Breastpump? Check.
Breastpump parts without which breastpump is rendered absolutely useless? CRAP.

So, my husband, who had to come to drive out this way today anyway, was willing to grab my forgotten pump parts and all I had to worry about was the potentially uncomfortable morning meeting I would have to sit through for 2, very engorged, hours. {Editors note: Sorry about the word "engorged."  I know it's kind of gross.  And I know that for my non-breastfeeding mommy readers, it's kind of an unnecessary overshare.  Try to imagine conducting your morning with two painful boulders stuffed into your bra and you will be able to sympathize enough to forgive the use of the word "engorged."  Trust me.}

So, he arrives as scheduled and delivers the pump parts to me in an old Target shopping bag.  I think nothing of this until I open the bag back in my office to discover my pump parts are COVERED in very fine GLITTER. What the...?

At which point, I remember the very glittery centerpiece I just HAD to have the last time we were at Target and how I was covered in glitter after transferring it quickly from my bag to a shelf in our living room.  The same glitter which is now covering the only set I have of these parts.

So, before I reached hour 3 of the ever-growing bra boulders, I decided I needed to do something about this (and it needed to be something OTHER than yelling at my poor husband who was sweet enough to conceal the pump parts in a bag TO BEGIN WITH before he delivered them to me in front of a bunch of random strangers and receptionists in my facility's lobby.)

And, that something was going into a private bathroom and running my pump parts under warm water (which by the way, does nothing glitter removal - it's like trying to get white OFF of rice) until eventually I gave up and just wiped them thoroughly with a wet paper towel.  I sent my husband a quick text of need new pump parts and pumped anyway.  I'm pretty sure no glitter got into the milk, but just in case, I'm probably going to dump today's supply and use frozen milk for tomorrow.  Finally - a reason to pump and dump and use frozen milk that does not include mommy having a cocktail.  HA.

I know I'm being a little finicky about the possibly contaminated breastmilk, but I have a feeling that glitter will do the same thing for LMGAL's reflux as the Prevacid.  Nothing.