Thursday, March 31, 2016

Three is the Magic Number

I remember thinking six-months was the game-changer when Ro was a baby.  He had a few skills under his belt, notably sitting up - making going to the grocery store soooooo much easier!  But as Philippa has turned three-months, I feel like this age has its merits too.  I can't pinpoint what exactly she does that makes life slightly easier.  Perhaps it's simply her sweet smile.  A smile can turn the night to day... or is that prayer?  We'll say both.  

Pippa is cute.  Man, I love that little girl!  She really is sweet.  She still loves to be held and snuggle.  Sometimes when I'm holding her on my shoulder, she'll shimmy her way to the center of my chest so that my chin rests on her head.  It's pretty cute.  She especially loves snuggling with Wyatt.  I think his chest is the perfect length for her tiny giant body and, I think, she likes that he's soft and squishy.  Unlike her bony mama.  

She also enjoys bath time quite a bit.  Sometimes she'll be super fussy before bed and then I'll turn on the water for the tub and she'll just start smiling.  And she'll continue to do so throughout her bath and until she's in her jams ready to be fed.  Have I mentioned how much I love a swaddled baby?  They look like little grub bugs.  Especially when Pippa starts kicking her feet in the air.  Very amusing to watch and see from the edge of her bassinet (nothing...and then, feet!).  

Though, I've recently started swaddling Pippa one-armed.  Since she is a thumb-sucker!  I know I should discourage this (not exactly sure how I would) but I think it is so stink'n cute!  Not to mention the convenience of a readily available pacifier at all times of the day.  A new experience for me as Ro was never into sucking anything.  (His pediatrician even noted how rare it was that Ro merely looked at his pen when he gave it to Ro, as opposed to sticking it in his mouth - like most babies do.)

Pippa is even more so on a loose schedule these days.  I can feed her and get her to nap at nearly the same times everyday.  Afternoon naps are the hardest.  After being inside all morning/early afternoon, Ro and I are ready to get out of the house (even if it is to the park across the street...or simply outside in our own yard).  I'm trying to teach Pippa to adapt but am failing miserably.  I can't seem to be able to teach her how to sleep in my arms, in her car seat, in the stroller for long periods of time.  A naps-worth period of time.  How did we go from sleeping through everything as a newborn, to not being able to sleep away from her own bed?  I guess I should count my blessings.  How do people have multiple kids?!!

Pippa is also a super sleeper!  She has slept seven-hour stretches a few times this past month and even two nine-hour stretches!  I'm certain those were the exceptions and we're still months from that kind of luxury being the norm.  But hey, it was sure nice the few times it happened!

Ro is still a sweet big brother.  He still hugs and kisses Pippa several times a day.  And is excited to greet her in the morning.  And then sometimes he has his sibling moments - like when he says, "No feed Pippa!"  (I get it...I'm not a big fan of these drop-what-we're-doing every three-hours feedings either.)   And the other day he was upset that she was (unintentionally) touching him.  So it begins...

In Ro news, he's still a two-year-old.  He has his fair share of "two moments."  But overall, I think he's still a good kid.  I think.  It would be nice to talk to someone that knows, a neutral someone, that can tell me if the things Ro does are normal, or if they're a result of bad parenting.  I really hope it's the first.  Regardless of his two'ness, I think he's still cute.  He's really into car washes (yeah, I know...?) and can make a car wash out of anything.  "Like a car wash!" As to say, it looks/works like a car wash.  Funny boy... His fear of wood peckers has diminished, though his fear of anything has increased.  I think this too is a stage in life.  Being scared.  We learned it wasn't the actual wood pecker that scared Ro but rather that it embodied some unknown scary thing.  Wyatt tried to lay Ro's fears to rest by listing all the noises Ro hears in the night and what is making that noise.  As a result, Ro is constantly saying, "Hear that?" throughout the day.  To which I ask him what he thinks made the noise.  Sometimes Ro flat out says, "I hear it."  Which is to say, I hear the wood pecker.  Which, again is not really the bird...but the unknown abstract scary thing.  

Wyatt's grandmother passed away the week before Easter.  He flew to Utah for the funeral and left me home with the two kids...alone.  It wasn't that bad.  I'm used to being alone with them throughout the day - awake time to bed time - since Wyatt works 12-hour shifts.  Even so, there's something to be said about moral support.  Just the mere thought that Wyatt was hundreds of miles away was crippling.  My sympathy goes to all those women who's husbands travel full-time, or military wives, or worse - single parents.  It is so, so, so hard!  I'm happy to report that we did survive.  Actually, that Ro survived.  There were moments I thought I might lose it.  For example, the hour tantrum he threw after a napless, candy-filled Easter Sunday.  There was a major sugar crash.  It was ugly.  I'm sure we all looked frazzled when we picked Wyatt up from the airport on Monday.  And I'm even more certain that the sight made him want to turn-around and hop on the nearest outbound plane.  Poor Wyatt.  

One last thing, about nursing; I really don't like it.  When Ro was a baby I did some research to see if I was alone in my feelings.  I came across something called D-MER: Dysphoric Milk Ejection Reflex.  Everything it listed described the feelings each time I nursed.  Depression, anxiety, anger, nausea, aggression...  Ah-HA!  I was not alone, others experienced these same feelings!  At my six-week postpartum appointment (after Ro was born) I told my doctor about these feelings I experienced each time I nursed.  She brushed me off and told me, "No one likes to feel like a cow."  So I convinced myself that I was wrong and that I was fabricating non-existent emotions.  But those feelings never really went away.  They decreased with time - I'm sure in correlation with the decrease in feedings - but never completely away.  

Fast forward two-years when Philippa was born.  Those same emotions surfaced immediately each time I nursed her.  Part of me was grateful to know I hadn't imagined things last time.  The other part of me was frustrated, isn't nursing supposed to be a positive experience?  I brought it up with my new (Seattle) doctor and she at least amused me by not brushing me off.  Though, she'd never heard of what I described - or D-MER - before.  I don't know.  Maybe D-MER is not a real thing.  Maybe someone out there made it up.  Even so, the emotions I feel when I nurse match the symptoms to a T.  Before I ever physically feel my milk about to letdown I KNOW it's about to based on the erratic change in my mood.  I really do feel depressed - despair to be exact.  In fact, there have been a few times that I am on the verge of crying!  I feel sick to my stomach.  I feel hopeless.  I feel agitated, like I'm going to snap at whoever talks to me (even in a non-threatening way).  Think of mini PMS spells each time I nurse...roughly eight times a day.  This is why I don't like nursing.  But I am in it for the long-haul.  It is recommended to breastfeed for one-year.  I did it for Ro, and I'm going to do it for Pippa.  Let's just hope no one gets punched.  

Anyway, aside from the nursing bit, all is well.  Oh, and the planes are landing!  Which is to say, the nice weather is on its way.  The wind determines which direction the planes will take-off/land.  From our vantage point, the planes typically take-off (towards the south) in the winter, and land (from the south) in the summer.  I love it when the planes land!

1 comment:

Jeanna said...

I was never a nursing fan. I had women around me tell how beautiful the whole thing was and I never understood that and felt super guilty, like I was the bad guy. But I did desperately want to go as long as possible. With Sav I had to go back to work so six weeks was it (long story, but I did try to nurse longer). With Mack it was six months and his curiosity pretty much killed nursing.

I was a "single mom" when Mack was born. Harold traveled all week every week. It was definitely a challenge and I loved naps and bedtime. And now I feel guilty for enjoying nap time so much. Dang, the guilt trip goes on and on and on.

We hope to meet Pippa before she's 2!! :) Hang in there B.