apron strings

Child Led Parenting.....

My ass. 

I may get some flack about this. But I doubt it. Surely people have better things to do than write some little blogger. Ok, I'm not so little after pregnancy. A year on and a year off! Or two. 

Anyway, I don't get child led parenting. I did naively in the beginning. But now I've come to my senses. I used to let Cate "tell me" when she wanted to eat. When she was sleepy. 

Let me tell you children who have been on the outside for a week or even a month-or months don't know a whole lot. Namely what is good for them. This probably has something to do with the fact that they don't know that they have feet. Or arms. 

Of course, my Cate is brilliant for  a human baby, she's  not even as smart as a kitten. As soon as she could-at about two weeks, she started trying to launch herself off of high surfaces. Kittens do not launch themselves off of high surfaces. They tread carefully and slowly determine whether or not they can make it. And they know they will land on their feet. Cate did fall of an ottoman-I know I suck! She just rolled herself right off. (thank god onto think carpet.) And she didn't land on her feet. 

So, yeah. And by the time a baby tells you they are hungry by screaming bloody murder it's too late. They are starving. Not merely hungry. And by the time a baby tells you they are sleepy...they are sleep deprived and overtired. Now they will scream and scream when you put them down because they are sleep deprived. 

At first I waited for her to "tell me" she was hungry. Um, well since she lost 15% of her birth weight I learned that not knowing you have arms also means you probably don't know when to eat. 

In the beginning she reminded me for sixteen hours a day that she wasn't tired. Nooooo. Cate needed 5 hours a night of sleep she insisted.

Shortly thereafter I again realized that little beings who don't know they have limbs also don't know when they are tired. 

So, it will be a long while before I will let her lead me in parenting. I am sure that she will think that she is old enough to date at twelve. Or wear lipstick. Or drive at 10. Too bad, but good in the long run, for her....I know more than she does and will gently but firmly guide her in the best direction. 

The only thing I let her decide on her on...is how to play. I lay on the floor with her and let her do what she wants to so long as her limbs or not in major jeopardy. In fact I let her cup my face in her hands while she tries to eat it. Why she does this I don't know. She probably thinks it is one fat peach she'd like to eat. 

And, don't hate me, but every parent I know who practices (survives?) child led parenting...as their chat-room siggy signifies "my child sleeps when tired, eats when hungry....." has a sleep deprived child. Not to mention tired, tired eyes. 

Maybe they do it wrong. Maybe I do it wrong. Maybe they have babies who need no parenting. Maybe they have babies could who could survive-at one month-in the woods. 

Not me. Unless and until my child can survive on her own, I'll lead the parenting train. For at least as long as it takes her to learn she has arms. 

It's About Time

So, I am keeping this blog. I will keep blogging. I know you all are SO EXCITED. 

Well, don't be. One of the commenters suggested that I continue as a way to chronicle our little lives. I think that's a great idea. 

Writing for me is more fun and I would like to remember this time in our lives. But that means that I will be blogging for me. Which will likely be even more boring to anyone else. What can I say? Well, that journaling is good for me. It feels self-indulgent, like a Tori Amos song (who I like quite a bit.)

The weird thing about blogging for anyone but me...is that it takes longer. I spend so much time apologizing for mom complaints, like how breast feeding at six months is the pits. When you are infertile...after you finally get  pregnant and then have a baby....you feel guilty about complaining. Though, a good friend ask me this rhetorical question "why should you not be allowed to complain just because you were infertile?" She's right. 

So, for my sake...here is-God willing-the last apology....I am so lucky to have a baby. So, so lucky. And a great husband, and my health, and a job. 

I am going to blog about the following (this is really a reminder to myself)

-being a new mother

-is breast feeding really always better?

- husbands never do 1/2 of parenting-though, I don't think they experience the same amount of joy either. 

-my favorite baby products that I could not/could not have survived without. 

-on how it's too bad that I had a c-section and why (I am so tempted to apologize but I won't!)

-on how infertility has forced us to try again before I am emotionally ready. 

-on how I am not made to be a stay at home

-on thinking mothers

-on how mom wars suck

-on what kind of mom I am

-on how I miss my pre=pregnancy body

-on how my favorite past time has become biking while pulling cate in a bike trailer

-on how I strive to be a woman who is also a mom and not the other way around. 

-on how I am about to speak to 1,000 people. yikes. 

wow, I have a lot to say. Though, that's not rare is it?

Therapeutic Thursday. (last week)

So, we did take the trip. Our delightful, delightful trip. We stayed two nights. Got tipsy one. Rode bikes for miles. Ate too much organic food and goaded too many goats. 

And laughed and laughed and laughed. I took very few, for me, pictures. 

a peaceful cow. 

Those are pigs. Who never moved. 

Note the georgia red clay. It even stains piggies!

The pool. We already have reservations for the week after  in the guest house pictured. 

Ms. Cow says hello. She wants you to know that she likes her organic grain.

 Apparently Mr. Goat isn't so keen on being goaded.

 Please forgive me 

Mr. Goat I had too 

much to drink. It was organic beer!

I don't know why this picture is sideways. 

This is the barn that I kept wanting to in , um, well I'll let you guess. But I felt like it would be against organic farm rules. In fact, while I loved this place. I mean, LOVED it, it kind of seemed too serene. Everyone was so nice. And everything so peaceful. I wondered where the stressed out grumpy people were. I concluded that any grumpiness results in an instant removal from the premises and a flogging in a distant location. 

Cate's First Food. Namely Pear Puree. (wordless wednesday)

Lessons Learned.

So, um, yeah, that SUCKED. I don’t know what happened but I think my body just gave up due to exhaustion? I couldn’t see nor walk straight. The room spun, my arms and lips became numb. My right arm started twitching uncontrollably. I called k whimpering. I was stuck in my car feeling like I would faint at any minute. At a gas station that isn’t so safe. 

Then, I remembered the six month old, Maddy, that I was a nanny for the summer before my senior year in highschool. I kept her so that her mother could fight brain cancer. My symptoms in my car at that gas station….mirrored hers. Maddy’s mom died when Maddy was eight months old.

So, yeah. That’s what circled through my head. It still makes me teary eyed to think about it. No eight month old deserves to lose their mother. No baby. Not my Cate.

Honestly, in all that I have been through….I have never been more afraid. Ever. I just kept thinking what if something is happening? What would happen to Cate, K, my mom, brother , my dear assistant, and my hundred or so clients?

Looking back, it’s not surprising at all. As it turns out we all have our limits, including me.  From Monday, I made my already over stressed life ten times more so. I wanted to get out of town. I wanted to give my overworked, over stressed husband a wonderful vacation. I wanted to Cate to have plenty of milk in my absence which I had to feed her and then try to pump 30 ounces on top of it.  

To do all of the above, I drank double the coffee than I usually do. And couldn’t sleep when Cate did. And then she started her six month growth spurt. And started eating more. Which meant that I had to pump more and more. And get up to feed her every three hours.

As it turns out I am worrying too much about our house being clean, Cate having enough books read to her. My clients' lives.  Saving money for Cate’s college, getting pregnant again. Not getting pregnant again. Organizing the closets. Keeping Cate dressed in cute clothes.  Taking enough pictures of her. Making sure that everyone in her life got the pictures.  Paying down our debt so that we can afford a good school for Cate in FOUR years. 

More than anything, like too many of us, I work waaaayyyy too hard to be so much to everyone in my life. 

Thank goodness, we went out of town that night. Just K and I. I missed Cate, but I needed to regroup. Lean into my husband. Lay on a dock. Sit on a wooden bench under a big oak tree.  Get tipsy. Ride a bike through the woods on a dark path goading goats and of course saying, “what, am I goading you?” While K continuously wrecked his bike, laughing a drunk laugh the whole way home.  In fact, I can’t remember laughing that much.

I wouldn’t go through it again.  Though, it’s not the worst thing that it did. Life is for living. Not sitting in a gas station parking lot unable to see. Worrying about things that don’t matter. That wouldn’t matter at all…in fact that won't be thought of ten years from now. 

 So, yeah, lessons learned

**my assistant is headed to the emergency room because she thinks she has vertigo. Her symptoms mirror mine? I wonder if whatever I had could have been contagious? It seems implasible- but what an odd coincidence. 

On Why I Called Poison Control

And uh, about that vacation. 

So this morning on the way to work while I was driving with a migraine I got so dizzy and started seeing double. I stumbled into a gas station to get water. Then my right arm start shaking. I don't want to scare people in IRL so I won't go into the rest. It was terrifying to say that least. 

K rushed to get me. 

I came home and cleared my calendar and got into bed. 

I don't know it is from pumping so much last night exhaustion or drinking (so yeah, I feel like a real jerk)or most likely stress or the combo. 

I feel much better and have made sure that I am not alone. 

Not taking care of myself isn't fair to Cate nor k and certainly not me. 

We are leaving soon, the doctor has okay out trip. Though no working. And I need a break. 

xooxo

On Why I Am Drinking and Driving.

Because it's so fun!!! Just kidding. 

So, ok, a lot of this quick post has to be in  ALL CAPS. A breast feeding mom once told me that to increase my supply, I should drink a Guiness before bed. Because in the morning my (.)(.) would turn into a super milk factory. 

Why do you ask am I trying to have so an ample supply-besides the obvious.....

BECAUSE K AND I ARE GOING ON AN OVERNIGHT TRIP. I have been looking forward to this all month. Seriously, I am as excited about this trip as I was to go to Paris. 

Not because I will be away from Cate-though a night of peaceful sleep will be nice-but because  we NEED A BREAK. 

K has no idea. It's a surprise he knows that we are going somewhere--but he doesn't know where.

Here's where we are going. I am taking my bike and I've rented one for k. 

I'll try to post pictures later today!!!

Because I know you wait with baited breath.

1. It would be awfully hard to do start and  keep both businesses in tact. One because there are only so many hours in the day. And I MUST spend as much time as I can with Cate. 

-And I have an employee. Who must eat. And who I adore. 

2. It wouldn't look great professionally. I get most of my referrals from other clients. And attorneys. Neither of which seem to like an attorney with split attention. 

3.  As I sit here preparing for a trial, that despite my likely defeat, (a client in total denial) I am excited. I LOVE trials. Seriously. I get all foamy in the mouth. Plus, due to my baby weight, I had to buy two professional yet feminine Kay Unger suits. And of course matching bags.  

But maybe I'm just making excuses. 

Thanks for the support. And to those of you who say you're too afraid to take a similar leap, you should be--it.is. terrifying. 

G*ddamn "My Reality" and the Horse She Rode in On

Just Kidding. Sort of. 

My Reality is one of those friends. You like a lot. Because she's smart, clever and downright charming. But, one of those rare friends, who tell you what you need, but don't want to, hear. 

For along time, namely since I graduated from law school, I have held doubts as to my like of being an attorney. I don't regret law school in the least--before law school I was the most mousey chick. Ever. Seriously, I don't even know that girl anymore. 

As a sophomore in college, when I was still a photography major, I got nervous about being able to make a living as an art major. I worked for a small newspaper for a measly $5,50/hour taking pictures of kids and balloons. And city council members. It sucked. 

So, I changed gears majored in a writing intensive major and headed to law school. 

Flash forward ten years. And here I sit as an attorney who likes her job, but thinks about doing something else. A lot. The problem is--while I suck, and I mean, suck at a lot of things-- I am a good attorney. I love trials and I can rain make like you wouldn't believe. Seriously. And, I can rain make so well that I get paid big money (at least to me-us) to work relatively few hours. Which allows me to get paid well and hang out a ton with Cate. 

But lately money means less and less. As we all know, absent poverty, money has oh so little to do with happiness and fulfillment. Honeslty, k and I were both just as happy when our income was a 10th of what it is now. Arguably even happier. 

So, back to why I would like to, but of course would never, d*mn Ms. My Reality. Every freakin' time I post pictures she has to say something about my needing to quit my day job and "am I sure I want to be an attorney." I would link all her right-on-g-d d*mnit comments, but who has the time? Trust me. They're their. And I am so afraid that she is right. 

Who wouldn't like to turn a beloved hobby into a profession? Could I really make a living at it? Isn't it enough to like your job okay even if you'd like something else more? 

For the record, My Reality, is by far my favorite blogger. And of course I love her. But still. And lately I've begun to wonder if she freakin' knows everyone in my life. My mom would stop harping on me to start a photography business. And the rest of my family. But they have to love me-we're related. 

Though, there is this other annoying friend, who told her husband -while showing him pictures of Cate, "that I'd rather be a photographer" to which he said "she needs to quit her fvckin job and become a photographer." Yeah, he sucks too. All of you. Suck. Just Kidding. You know what I mean. I hope. Or you think I am crazy. And full of myself. 

Fvck. What's a girl to do? 

wordless wednesday.