Update on Tired

I guess the reason I felt obligated to write a post about being tired -- um, hello boring topic! -- was that I just wasn't feeling like myself. I felt off. Off enough that it worried me. And logic seemed to dictate that fatigue was the reason. And I guess by naming it as such, I hoped it would be true.

I'm feeling a little better, but I'm still not sure that sleep deprivation is the cause of my world weariness.

Everyone keeps saying that it's the last week of work (before my summer off), and that's true, but then they say, "it must be crazy at work." And that's not true. It's been a slow wind down for sure. Worse this year than previous years, because I lacked any ambition. Including not attending even one of the three graduations this year. Sigh.

I hope more rest will help. I'm a little worried. Worried I won't feel better and I'll be a craptastic mother to poor Calliope for the next two months, who won't get a break from me all summer long.

In my defense -- not that any of you are worried -- I think I've actually been a pretty excellent mother thus far, no matter what else was going on with me. I'm sure this will not always be the case, so I try to appreciate it for now. As she gets older and more challenging -- temper tantrums and even just the ability to tell me what she really thinks of me spring to mind -- I'm sure I will likewise lose my temper, yell, do and say things I regret. But so far, apart from the less than tender bathing (after she pooped and then smeared it -- would that be schmeared in Brooklyn-speak? -- in the rug), which was really nothing, it hasn't happened yet. I know I should appreciate my tabula rasa of good parenting intentions.

Still, I worry because I want to enjoy it. Every minute of it. Or at the very least, not to slog through the summer.

My new boss offered me the opportunity to do a little administrative work over the summer, and I'm oddly excited by the idea. That I could work, from home I presume, and get a little break from Calliope by hiring a babysitter.... yet still physically be here to nurse her and put her to sleep and just watch her amazing, budding self... while not being responsible for stooping down to scoop her up, or arrange toys, or laboriously spoon purees into her hesitant mouth... not to mention a little infusion of cash.... yet not having to commute. It all sounds pretty amazing. Somehow the idea of taking a break to do work is oddly exciting.

One of the things I've been worried about is my not-so-new lack of enthusiasm about a job I've previously adored. I assume it was pregnancy (last year) and new motherhood (this year), but still, it scares me. I've always been a person who cared about work. It's important to my identity. So the idea of doing just a little bit of work, at my own pace, and from a different perspective -- creating documents that guide our clinical practices, instead of doing the actual clinical practice -- also feels like it might fire up my zeal for patient care again, come September.

The real estate thing is, I think, dragging me down substantially. Nothing has really gone wrong, so far, it's just dragging. It makes me kind of depressed to even think about it. Dealing with people's incompetence is frustrating.

Yesterday, I realized that one earlobe was minus my grandmother's diamond earring. I'm not sure which was more discouraging, the loss or that I might not even care that much.

I've been watching a TV show in the evening lately, on my laptop. I just crave the hour (or two) of escape so much. I've never been a TV watcher. Partly because I know it tends to affect my mood. The show I'm watching right now isn't even that good -- Army Wives -- it's just easy, and not so bad as to be more pain than pleasure. But I wonder if that intensified emotional rush that comes from engaging in a TV show is impacting my sense of weariness?

Tired

This past weekend, Calliope and I journeyed to Massachusetts to be present for my mother's bat mitzvah.

She never had a bat mitzvah as a teen -- back then, they weren't done for girls -- so now, at the ripe young age of 65, she made things right. Along with nine other "mature" candidates, she journeyed to the bimah for her chance to read from the Torah.

She also shared thoughts about her Torah passage in a wonderful essay about civil right and the current struggle of "Women of Wall" in Israel. I helped her develop the essay when she visited back in March, so I was extra proud of her. She has grown so much since my dad died of brain cancer 4 years ago, leaving her alone for the first time in her life -- she had moved from her parents' house to her husband's house at the age of 21. I'm very proud.

We flew to MA on Saturday morning -- I got up at 4:45 to make our flight, and in hindsight, that wasn't early enough. We made our flight, but only with a large portion of good luck. Who knew that JFK and Jet Blue would be absolutely jam packed at 7 am on a random Saturday? Our flight was delayed getting out because 15 turtles were ever so slowly crossing the runway.

And we returned yesterday, Sunday afternoon. Again, we cut it close for time (even though I didn't think I was) and again we were lucky. Our landing was scary, though. We were only a few hundred feet from touching ground when suddenly the engines roared and we abruptly soared up, away from the runway. The pilot reported a few minutes later that air traffic controllers has scheduled planes too close together, and that there was still a plane on the runway when we were about to touch down.

I made sure Calliope was tightly strapped into the baby carrier for the next, ultimately successful, attempt at landing.

So everything was fine, but I'm tired. I haven't been going to sleep early enough to combat Calliope's occasional night wakings. At least twice last week, I had to retreat to the couch after Calliope failed to go back to sleep on her own. The problem is that I typically huddle in bed for a good 45 minutes, hoping for the best and too sleepy to get up, before I admit to myself that things aren't going to change while I'm still in the room.

Being tired just colors everything in life. 

I'm feeling guilty and also just plain disoriented to [still] feel so checked out at work. Does the passion ever come back?

High school graduation is tonight. The kids who were in 8th grade the year I started this job will be walking along that stage at last. I've known some of them a long, long time.

And you know?

I just don't care.

Not that much, anyway. Not enough to pay for childcare and stay late after work to be here.

And I feel bad about that. But not bad enough to stay.

I also decided, based on how exhausting this weekend's travel was, not to go to California this summer. I'm vaguely disappointed, because I know I would love it if I went. I also feel guilty, for not living up to my promise of going. And I worry that it will be deathly hot here, and I will regret staying put.

But flying with an older babyis exhausting (it was wonderfully easy when she was little). Calliope refused to sleep in the baby carrier (or the stroller) this weekend for the first time. She cries when we are in the car for more than 30 minutes, max. She's otherwise completely delightful, and she doesn't usually cry when she's short on sleep, but it means that I am 100% "on" for many consecutive hours. 

She was very happy to crawl around and explore at the bat mitzvah and at my mom's house, but no one could pick her up if I was in sight -- she would immediately begin to wail and reach for me. It's nice to be loved, but it's tiring. I'm hoping this bout of separation anxiety will be over soon. The plane, of course, where there wasn't any family around, was especially tiring. Luckily she didn't struggle to get down, but I had to find new entertainment every three to five minutes. Plus, she kept kicking the nice man sitting next to us. Granted, a barefoot ten month old doesn't kick very hard, and she didn't have any clue what she was doing -- as far as she was concerned, she was just drumming her heels -- but still, I felt bad about it. Thank goodness a little girl one row back was fascinated by Calliope, and helped to keep her entertained. 

The apartment purchase continues to move forward, but is likewise exhausting. 

Work ends for the summer on Friday, but right now, being this tired, being home sounds exhausting also.

Last night I went to bed at 8:15 pm, and got up at 5 am to deal with unpacking. I'm glad I did, as I was far too tired to cope last night, but it meant that I didn't have time to exercise this morning. I know that that would be the kick in the pants that I need to feel more like myself today, but sometimes, I just can't do it all.

I have good news to report, though, in that my nipples are nearly healed. Hooray! That makes my life a lot easier.

And I'm thrilled that it does look like I will soon be an apartment owner, it's just the getting there that's stressful.

I'm still hoping and praying for Jen, who is now 21 weeks pregnant with her twins, and mourning for Claire's loss of her beloved companion, Levi. 

Googling "Nipple Shields," and Code Brown

The last few days, my nipples have started to hurt. I think it's from nursing a baby who is constantly getting new teeth. I can't exactly figure out the mechanism of injury, but I think her brand new canines are grazing my nipples when she nurses.

For the first time, I'm thinking about weaning.

I've always had an easy time nursing. Maybe there was a couple of days of discomfort in the very beginning -- I remember a painful white sore in the first few days. But I used nipple cream less than a handful of times, and that was all in Calliope's first week of life.

I've been incredibly blessed to have such an easy time. Plus, I don't know many women that have worked full time and still managed to produce enough to feed their babies exclusively breast milk, never mind having enough to share with another baby!

But now.... Oy. I emailed my pediatrician, who is also a lactation consultant, to ask what to do. She emailed me back to say, "try a nipple shield for a week."

I was sort of hoping she would say, "come over to my house and bring the baby and we will examine your latch."

Not quite as ludicrous as it sounds, as she did invite me over once, pre-baby, to discuss becoming an LC myself. But still, not in the realm of likely.

And since I took a personal day to stay home with Calliope yesterday so the nanny could go to traffic court for riding her bike on the sidewalk (ridiculous waste of her time and taxpayer, aka my dollars!), I can't take another day off to bring her in to the doctor's office when I have 7 days left of work before summer vacation. And this weekend we have to go to MA for my mom's bat mitzvah (yes, I know).

So that means: minimum ten days of discomfort/pain?

Ouch.

So nipple shields it is. Only Amazon can't get them here for 5 business days. So I'm going to have to take the bus to Park Slope tomorrow, most likely, to pick some up on my way home from work. Unless the baby store near me carries them and I can get there at lunchtime. Which means going for a long walk in the 97 degree heat at mid-day.

All sorts of awesome.

Now I just feel guilty that I'm sort of praying that Calliope sleeps late tomorrow so I can pump and not nurse in the morning.

This is not a feeling I've ever had before.

Okay, totally disjointed but here's tales from yesterday's day off together...

Ice cream with friends after the playground made for a tired, tired baby. Her diaper was dry all afternoon so after the potty I let her sit in the high chair bare bottom (even though she didn't pee when I put her on the potty). She peed in the highchair. Then, when I was dealing with washing the high chair cover and starting her bath while she played in the living room... she pooped on the rug! And then crawled through it, and smeared it into the rug!

Code brown!

Even though I had JUST offered the potty! 

I was mad at my baby!!!

And didn't even feel bad that she was crying in the tub because she was so tired and also confused because I just dumped her in the tub, rinsed, made her stand up, dumped out the tub, then refilled with water that was possibly too hot...  I was too mad to care. 

But then "nurses" made it all better for both of us. She was crying crying crying (i had the audacity to diaper and dress her after all that) but then 1 minute of nursing and she pulls off to give me the hugest toothy grin. She nursed a long time but kept pulling off to grin at me.

Then we went into the bedroom and I was so tired that i sat on the bed to sing our goodnight song instead of standing by the crib. And in the middle of snuggling and singing... she suddenly tipped herself upside down in my lap. When she was supposed to be getting sleepy.

I was so surprised I couldn't help it... I burst out laughing. Which of course made her ever so pleased with herself, and made her have to do it again and again. I kept trying to admonish her that "this isn't getting-ready-for-bed behavior" but I couldn't stop laughing long enough to lecture her.

Oh well. I'm sure there will be lectures aplenty in our future. 

Nine Month Photos from Amy (Prospect Park)

Calliope Feels the Beat

http://youtu.be/oyYTC6kLV8g

Pulled Up to Stand

Calliope pulled herself up to standing yesterday!

Very exciting news.

She's been able to stand (holding on) for months now, but to be able to get there by herself is so much more fun.

She's also been cruising, slowly and tentatively but with great enthusiasm, for several days.

Having her on the prowl is, of course, a lot more work for me, and it will only increase as she gets faster. But so far, I'm loving it, because I feel like another micro-layer of her personality has been exposed, like pulling back a layer of skin on an onion. Now that she's mobile, I can see where she actually wants to go. As opposed to merely tolerating wherever I put her.

And how lovely that often the place she wants to go is to ordinary old me. Turns out that my arms are one of her favorite destinations. My feet are also very popular, as is tunneling between my legs. It's a wonderful feeling to be someone's favorite place to be!

I worked from home today, an extremely rare occurrence for a health care provider with full time direct patient contact! But I had to do this loathsome tasks of getting up to do date on all my privacy and billing credentialing, so my boss offered to let me work from home.

It was so fun to get to be here and see Calliope all day, to take breaks to nurse her and comfort her after tumbles. And I finished early so we went to the playground together while Nastya stayed behind with sleeping Eleanor.

We took the bus to our favorite sort-of-nearby playground. There is a great water structure there that's just right for babies her age. A very tiny fountain and great puddles for splashing, with no water deeper than a half an inch, so absolutely no risk of drowning or getting seriously hurt. It wasn't that warm when we arrived, and a bit windy, but that didn't deter Calliope from getting right to business with some serious splashing. She also had a great time on the play structure, which has steps that are only a few inches tall. Now that she can pull herself up, she was able to conquer those steps for the first time. Such exciting developments! Will there ever be such a fun and miraculous time in her life?

In other news... I kept meaning to tell all of you about our sleep backsliding. So after I finally did sleep training, Calliope started waking up earlier and earlier. Like 5:30 am. I would nurse her and pray desperately that she would go back to sleep... but she never did. Until one day she woke up at 5:15, I nursed her, and lo and behold, she was asleep against me. I gratefully and ever so carefully slid her back into the crib, and jumped back into bed for a few minutes of shut eye.

So that seemed good, right? Extra sleep?

But then that feeding started to creep earlier and earlier. Still, if it was 4:30 am, but I got another 60-90 minutes of sleep, all good, right?

And then Calliope got sick. And she started waking up really early. At, like, 3:30 am. And a couple of times, she woke up twice. Just for a two minute nursing.

Yesterday, Calliope was feeling much, much better. Still congested, for sure, but not sick anymore. She ate tons of yogurt for dinner (she has rejected nearly all other solids while she's been sick, like, 100% rejected, refused to open her mouth, cried if I kept trying... I already decided I am not willing to make food a battlefield), but then nursed for only a minute or so.

But still.

When she woke up at 12:30 am, I threw in the towel. And refused to get up. Because I realized we are worse than where we started.

So I stayed in bed, listening to her cry. For forty-five minutes.

Finally I got up. Retrieved her from the crib. Rocked and sang, standing by the crib, our good night song, You Are My Sunshine (inspired by Jen DDS). She calmed somewhat. I put her back in the crib.

She screamed.

I retrieved my pillows and traveled wearily to the living room. Her cries lessened almost immediately. I think she was back to sleep within fifteen minutes at the most.

And she slept until 7 am. Approximately 90 minutes later than she has slept in months.

Have I mentioned how desperately I am looking forward to having our own bedrooms in the new apartment???

Infant Pottying, and Poor Little Sick Girl

So the past two days, Calliope hasn't had a single wet diaper while awake. And only once did she wake up from a nap with a wet diaper -- all the rest, she woke up dry and successfully peed on the potty.

So based on this, and tales of "potty training boot camp" from the SMC toddler forums, I decided to try her in training pants today. This is far from boot camp, but I figured she needed to learn what wet pants feel like.

The only complicating factor is that Calliope still doesn't have a signal to let me know when she needs to go!

Multiple times this weekend, I figured I had screwed up because I had gone such a long time between pottyings, even as much as 2-3 hours. But then, each time, her diaper was dry.

Still, I think communication is a key element in potty training.

Here's what I learned today: Calliope knows how to keep her diaper dry. But she has not gotten the memo that other things need to stay dry as well! So she pees in them, but not in her "dry feeling" disposable diapers.

This morning she peed at the the toddler water play structure at the playground while we were doing a photo shoot and she was only wearing bloomers (the little diaper cover that comes with a sundress). To be fair to her, she had a tiny waterfall pouring onto her bare feet. Of course it made her have to pee! I wouldn't even have noticed except that, of course, the photographer was scrutinizing her while snapping photos and observed the little stream that looked different from all the other little streams of water.

This afternoon, I officially put her in training pants to go run an errand. We have these cute 18 month size Geber ones that we got as hand me downs. They look like boy shorts on her. Way too big but they don't fall down so... good enough!

Off we went in a friend's car to Fairway, this giant grocery store, of sorts. We stopped for lunch and ate at their giant outdoor deck, overlooking the water. Calliope ate all of two bites of yogurt before fussing to get out of the highchair -- she hasn't been feeling well and has barely been eating solids -- and so I held her in my lap while I ate my own lunch... until I realized that my lap was feeling a bit wet. Thing was, it was so hot and sticky in Brooklyn today, I barely noticed... I was already pretty damp all over. Luckily the shopping cart isn't really affected by damp underwear, and then she went back into the car seat, so no harm was done. She fell asleep in the car seat and slept a full hour, so I have no idea if her pants were newly damp when she woke up, or the same damp. She refused to sit on the potty until after she nursed, when she did produce a good pee. But I'm not sweating it. An SMC mother of an almost two year old said, of potty training this summer, "it's going to be a puddly summer." And I think the same will be true for me.

Potty training a child is a messy business, no matter what age you undertake it!

And if it doesn't happen for us this summer, that's fine too. But it seems like, against all odds, that Calliope might be ready now, or soon. Given the perpetually dry diaper, it seemed unfair to her to not at least try.

In other news, Calliope was oddly fussy this past Tuesday -- the nanny told me she cried inconsolably for thirty minutes, which she had literally never done before. Even when I came home, she clung to me and cried. It was strange. She seemed to have a new rash on her face as well. Over the next two days she started to get a runny nose, and then Friday morning she woke up at 4:30 am with a fever. I hate that feeling of lifting a hot little body out of the crib and realizing your child is sick.

I reluctantly took the day off from work and took her to the pediatrician, mainly because I was worried the rash could be some sort of atypical strep throat/scarlet fever. The doctor, not my regular one, didn't even look at her throat but said the rash was just dry skin. Everything else looked fine to him.

Her fever only lasted 24 hours but she's still not herself. When the ibuprofen wears off, she coughs and then cries, so her throat is clearly hurting. She's barely eaten the last three days, and struggles to nurse because her nose is so congested. I'm not worried that there's anything seriously wrong, it's just hard to see her so uncomfortable. And I'm sad that I have to go back to work tomorrow when she's clearly not all the way well yet... though maybe it's all for the best, so that she can get some rest. I have a very hard time staying home with her -- we were very busy this weekend. And with a 90 minute interlude of crying in the middle of the night last night, she was definitely tired today, and didn't get all the sleep she needed (me neither, but I can only blame myself).

And in other news, things are slowly moving forward with the new apartment. But I still don't know when the closing will be, which means I still can't book my ticket to San Francisco or Vermont. And with the hot weather this weekend, I am reminded of why it would be so great to leave the city for a bit! The hot weather brings weird flashbacks to being very pregnant last summer. I really hope I never have to be pregnant in summer again (though of course I want to be pregnant again some day... I can't believe I just said "of course" about the prospect of future pregnancy. Wow. But what I told a friend recently is, "it's all just so much fun, I can't imagine only doing this once!"