Where I've Been.

I have no idea how time manages to pass so quickly. Really. Where has the last month gone? So much has happened, and it's not slowing down anytime soon.

Did you guys know it's summer? Birthday party, baby shower, wedding, graduation season? Have I mentioned that a few million times? I keep being surprised that it's here. Perhaps the chilly, damp weather has made me forget about summer. But the activities happen, sun or not.

A few weeks ago, Elliot's job was cut. That's the big change I was talking about here.
The layoff came as quite a surprise and ended up changing our family dynamic quite a bit. We had some time and some cushion, so we spent a few weeks soaking up as much early-summer free-time together as we could.

In a way, I'm glad it happened. We got to spend the last few weeks of Little E's first year exploring parks, having picnics and visiting our favorite people. That'll make me smile forever.


Pleasantries of family life and fun aside, someone's gotta bring home the bacon. We toyed around with the idea of me going back to work full-time and him staying home with the baby. I signed on for my first 32-hour work week (I know! I'm a wimp! I'm out of practice and out of shape!) in over a year.

You guys. It was seriously hard. I've always given props to working parents--I know it's tough. But I had no idea how hard it would be to be away from my kid for 3/4 of her waking hours several days in a row. I'm whining, I know. I'm lucky to be able to spend as much time with her as I do. But I missed my baby.

Anyway. We decided that it just didn't feel right. Elliot wants to feel productive and needs to be out of the house, and I spend all day watching the clock and wanting to go home. He wasn't unemployed long--he's back to work next week and I'm back to being mama and doing the dang laundry (because dang, it got  a bit scary there for a while.)

It's been a whirlwind of a month, and we've got a wedding in three weeks. My family will start pouring in the week before the wedding and we'll be sucked up into shopping, entertaining, and obsessing about my hair. I can't wait to obsess about my hair. And I can't wait to see my mama.

Things are changing. My role in life is about to be redefined, again, and I'm looking forward to it very much. I'll be around here and there, but my head will be spinning. Whew.

I need a laptop.

Hi, friends. I've been neglecting this space. We're wrapping up a week of baby birthday goodness, and whoa. I am so very glad this only happens once a year, because I am pooped! A more detailed post will be coming soon, but for now here are some bits of Little E's birthday week (in my head, birthdays are always celebrated for a whole week...shouldn't they always be?)

Elliot has been home a lot more lately, which is another excuse reason why I haven't been writing more. I absolutely cannot get things done on the desktop computer when other people are around. I need quiet and privacy when I write. He has a laptop that I'm going to be using for blogging, and I may even sneak out of the house to do it. I'm very excited (but we'll see if I actually stick with it...you know me.)

This is another busy week for us, as I'm gearing up to go back to work nearly full-time. I have mixed feelings about this and we'll talk about that soon. 

I hope your week has been full of sunshine and cupcakes, birthdays or no. 

It's summer, y'all!

Going With It.

Today was delicious. It was full of early birthday presents, toddler-to-baby kisses, mama friends over coffee, and sunshine.

After a busy morning with some of my favorite ladies and their little people, and after Little E's short and crummy afternoon nap, we decided to go for a walk around the neighborhood. I'm so glad we did. On our stroll we walked a bit around the Seattle University campus and there, we saw something that rocked our baby's face off.

A giant fountain. A giant fountain with another baby running around in it. Though the sun was shining, it was not as warm as I would've liked. We had no change of clothes for our girl, and though she was clapping and reaching and squealing at that water, I almost said no. I'm so glad I didn't.

This is the stuff I want to remember. And we did, after all, have an extra diaper at least. Sometimes you have to just go with it.

Taking time to dry out in the grass.

Hello, summer.

Everything is Orange.

Since cutting out night nursing, Eliza has been eating a whole lot more solid food. Until now, feeding this baby was a very frustrating experience. She's a picky one, and she spits out far more than she swallows.

It's still a frustrating experience. I know I'll look back and think these pictures are adorable and I'll probably swoon over every memory of feeding my first babe. In fact, I'm already looking at these and thinking "Awwwwww!" But I'm not gonna lie: I really, really hate doing it. It's messy. I'd rather wash a hundred million cloth diapers than see my daughter blast squishy carrots in a four foot radius of her high chair. I give it a month until everything in our entire house is stained orange. 

It is a huge relief to see her getting into food, though. And it's nice to have someone to make banana pancakes for, so there's that. Good thing it's Dad's job to clean her up! 

It's Working.

Last night was our third night of encouraging Little E to sleep on her own. Remember how I wasn't going to open the door all night? Yeah, it turns out we're softies. Elliot and I talked about our strategy early on that evening and decided that rather than just let her cry it out he would take over night duty and try to soothe her back to sleep. After all, the goal was primarily to teach her how to sleep without nursing. We were hoping that she would soon learn that it's not worth it to wake up if there wasn't a nice cuddly milk session as a reward.

It's working. Really.


The first night was awful for all of us. We both woke up every time she did, and she was not happy about Daddy showing up cribside. I struggled to go back to sleep each time, feeling guilty and reassuring Elliot, whose nerves were shot as he wrestled his squirming, screaming baby on his lap. Awesome.

The next night was a huge improvement. First of all, I bought myself some earplugs so at least one of us would get some rest. I crashed hard (at 8:00! So glamorous is the life of a tired mama!) and didn't wake again until 5:30 the next morning. That was the first night of uninterrupted sleep I've gotten in nearly two years, thanks to pregnancy and the need to pee every eight minutes. I'd forgotten what it was like to wake up feeling refreshed! Elliot informed me (after I took over baby duty and he got a couple of solid hours of sleep that morning) that though she still woke up multiple times, it was much quicker and easier to get her back to sleep. Baby steps!

Last night she slept  nearly eleven hours without waking! Well, without waking us. Elliot is an incredibly heavy sleeper and I had my earplugs in so for all we know she could've woken every hour. But even if she did, she must've settled herself back to sleep without too much fuss, as I can still hear a bit through my earplugs and even Elliot wakes for the big screams.

I am so, so proud of my little (big) girl and even more proud of her Papa for sticking it out. We all know he's the real softie around here.

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The issue of sleep is a hugely controversial topic among parents, and the debate seems even more heated in the online community. I've been lucky enough to have some very supportive friends to bounce ideas off of, but I still find that there is a lot of pressure to conform to either "side". In other words, to pick a parenting style and stick with it--whether it be a more traditional approach or to join the "attachment parenting" club. I've found myself straddling this line in many areas of parenting, and all I can say is there is no right or wrong way to raise a child.

New parents, I implore you! Do not read too much! Finding what works for you and your family is a trial-and-error process and an ongoing one, at that. Seek advice, try new things, but go with your gut. Every decision you make can and will be debated, but the only thing that matters is finding your own rhythm.




Sleep well, friends, and let's hope we all do, too.

They Call It "Extinction."

Today, Little E skipped her afternoon nap.

This means something. This is important.

All week, the afternoon nap has been hard-won and increasingly short. This afternoon was the worst, and she didn't go to sleep at all. An hour and a half after putting her down and listening to her alternate between babbling and screaming, we gave up. I called off our afternoon trip to the grocery store (not that I was sad about this--I hate grocery shopping) in favor of a low-key afternoon and an ultra-early bedtime. I gave her a nice big supper, put her in her jammies, read a few stories and nursed her down at five o'clock. Five o'clock! 


And I won't open her door again until six tomorrow morning. This is huge. This will be painful for all of us. They call it extinction, a term as ugly as the practice.

Sleep is the bane of most new parents' existence. We are no exception. Little E proved early on that she does not respond well to a subtle approach. At six months, she was up five to eight times a night. By seven months, she was pulling midnight dance parties--up for two hours straight wanting to play, and screaming her sweet little beet-red head off at any attempt to put her back down. It started when she first broke free of her swaddle. I knew the morning I found her in her crib, on her belly with her arms out that we were in trouble.

Adorable, but dangerous.

We had to find a way to break the swaddle habit. It did not go well. I had a baby who would not settle down for the night without being tightly wrapped and nursed to sleep. I tried leaving one arm out, but she would flail and wake herself up. Or worse, she would roll on to her belly and not be able to use her arms to roll back over. 

I did not believe in letting my baby cry it out. Not only did I think it was cruel and that she couldn't possibly understand what was going on, I was also convinced that it just wouldn't work. I felt terrible even considering it. Then, a friend of mine who had a baby Little E's age with similar sleep problems recommended the book Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child. I was skeptical--we'd not had much luck with sleep books in the past. 

One night, after a particularly brutal two-hour stretch of shushing, rocking, nursing, patting and a seemingly endless bout of screaming, I snapped. I hit bottom. I put my hysterical baby in her crib, closed the door, and rocked back and forth in bed while she cried. Twenty agonizing minutes later, she was quiet, and she slept peacefully until morning. I was stunned, and I awoke on a mission: to help my baby learn to sleep on her own no matter what the cost. I went out and bought the book, and put it to practice that very day.

Less nighttime nursing means more morning cuddles.
It's now my favorite time of day.

I had uncovered a completely different baby. After less than a week she was waking only twice a night, and putting her down no longer took an hour. At bedtime we would nurse and she would roll over with a contented sigh and go right to sleep. I couldn't believe it. Getting more rest at night also meant her development took off in flying leaps--she learned to crawl and began pulling up on every piece of furniture in sight. 

I now know that letting my baby cry a bit does not make me a terrible mother. So now, as she approaches a whole new set of milestones and her sleep is degrading again, I know what I have to do. She no longer needs to nurse at night and it's time for her to learn how to get a full night's sleep without calling to me. It's a scary thing to do, as it means the end of another chapter of her babyhood. It means letting go of those sweet nighttime cuddles (though I would like more rest, I have to admit I will miss this greatly) and helping my girl develop independence. It's also one step closer to weaning her completely, which is bittersweet. But I know my girl, and I know when she is trying to tell me something. 

There is a great part of me that is proud of my ability to make tough decisions in my child's best interest. Being a new parent comes with so many doubts, and overcoming those hurdles is no easy task. But each of these trials leaves me feeling more comfortable in my new-mama skin, more certain that I know her better than anyone else. I am no less afraid of the struggles we will face, but I am more confident. 

Wish us luck tonight. 

Swimming

Yesterday, I went to work. For the record, I went to work today as well. But yesterday was different.

When we clean rooms at the Inn, it's usually in pairs. Because of scheduling and timing yesterday, however, I was alone. And my head was swimming.

There's something about spending four (very, very busy) hours doing repetitive manual labor that gets my brain going. And going. And going and going and and AND!

I must've written sixteen fragmented blog posts in those four hours, and I've forgotten them all. I also may or may not have come up with three new career ideas and played out three different life-paths for each one. I'm not sure, because all of those thoughts are gone now. And that's okay, because I needed to let them go.

Yes, there's something about being truly alone (and very busy) that does wonders for my tired mind. I was productive when I got home, and I didn't turn on the TV all afternoon. And if my back weren't so sore (did I mention it was very, very busy?) I'd want to do it all over again.

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In other news, this week has been crazy. Well, not really. Maybe it just felt like it. What day is this, again? 

Anyway, we had a few nice days and went to the Arboretum to play in the (filtered) sunshine. It's always amazing this time of year as everything is beginning to wake up. In a normal spring, it looks like this by the end of April. We're really struggling to warm up this year, but I dare say that will make summer seem that much sweeter. Also, I don't like to get sweaty so I won't complain too much.

My baby, the sunglasses thief.

I'm going to revisit this little daytime adventure as my happy place for a good long time to come, and I'll be going there a lot in the next few weeks. Yesterday afternoon, we received a bit of news that is sure to really mix things up in our little family (I am absolutely not pregnant.) I'll be more specific when we have a game plan put together, but for now please send us some good vibes. We'll be doing our best to stay positive, and I might even go so far as to get a little excited. Change can be good, yes?

Be well, friends.

All the World's a Jungle Gym

Or, rather, this corner of our home has become the center of all the baby action this week. Little E has learned to climb, and she's getting quite good. Soon we'll be shopping at REI and buying her a pint-sized harness and helmet. Because I know she's not stopping at this old orange chair.

She also never goes anywhere these days without her trusty toothbrush.
Great for pretending you're a mob boss with a fat cigar.

I love the annoyed looks I'm getting these days. I will not love these looks
when she's a teenager. Or maybe I still will. Let's hope.

A little breather on the way to the summit.

A pause to take in the view.

Watching her stories like a big girl.

Seriously, mom. Stop.

Chair conquered. Now on to bridging the gap to the couch. Oh boy.

This is another tricky point in parenting for me. It's so very tempting for me to hover over her, to tell her no, to keep her from climbing. But I can't control every second, and she needs to learn. This is a pretty huge milestone and though I can picture a million different ways for her to hurt herself, I have to let her try. And try again when she tumbles. 

So, I put pillows on the floor. I move the sheep skin to cover the sharp pointy parts of the furniture. And I sit nearby, ready to help her when she gets stuck (again) between the couch and the chair. I taught her how to turn around and get down feet first, and for the most part that's worked. She's never once actually gotten hurt. 

Trusting my once itty bitty blobby baby to maneuver the world (or even just the living room) will never be easy. 

I wonder if I can pad the road with pillows when she learns to drive.

Say Yes to the Dress.

You know what's a good idea? Getting married before you have a baby.

This is not about morals, or expectations, or being proper. No, I'm quite happy about the order in which we've gone about building our life, planned or otherwise.

But as we're (sort of, haphazardly) planning this whole wedding thing, I'm realizing the real reason(s) people get married before they have kids. I'll list them as follows:

One: DRESS SHOPPING. Dress shopping with a baby is impossible without a helper. Did you know that babies hate shopping? Yeah, me too. When I worked in retail it angered me to no end when I saw bored, fussy children being dragged around stores by their parents. Why take a baby shopping at all? Why can't they just leave the kid with someone and go alone? It never occurred to me that this is often impossible. Babies have schedules, adults have schedules, and most often there just isn't another option than to take the kiddo with you. Yet another misconception about parenthood. I was the girl who gave toddlers paper and markers to keep them happy while mom shopped. Mostly because I loved kids and I got to play with them for a bit. And because I hated my job and would do pretty much anything to distract myself from actually working. I digress.

Dress shopping has been a nightmare. And I don't even need a real wedding dress! All I want is something fun and casual but not sloppy. I want to look effortlessly elegant, but not stuffy. Nothing fancy. Did you know that's a completely unreasonable request? Yeah, me either.

Also: my body is not what it used to be. Did you know that having a kid rearranges everything and leaves you stumped as to how to work with your new shape? Yeah, me too. But still. I can no longer look at something and think, "Yeah, that'll probably fit." My only worry used to be whether or not it had a full skirt (this Mama's always been...a pear) and whether or not I had to wear a bra. Now? Now all sorts of things need support. Shaping. Concealing. I'm confounded. And this is just the first reason why wedding planning with a kid is no fun.

Two: Money and time. These could probably each be separate categories, but if I expound too much my head might just burst. Money--we don't have it. Time--we don't have that, either. Also, my family all lives out of town and they do not enjoy things like making travel arrangements. Or being in the same room together. Or staying in the same hotel. On to the next category, before I burst a blood vessel in my eye.

Three: Caring for the baby on The Big Day. In order for my wedding day to not suck, I need to be as stress-free as possible. In order for my blood pressure to remain in a healthy place, I need to make sure my kid is happy. In order for my kid to be happy, she needs to nurse regularly and take naps. On time. I know, I know. I need to loosen up. I'm working on it, but at this rate I'm going to be a basketcase making sure Little E is taken care of. This means having the wedding in a familiar place, which leaves...our apartment (NO WAY) and Elliot's parents' house, which is where we'll end up doing things, I'm sure. What's that? I have less than two months and we're still not completely set on the location? Yeah, we're awesome at this.

But anyway. We'll figure it out. All I'm hoping is that the day will feel something like this:

This was another very simple wedding, a few months after we'd begun dating.
It pretty much sums up why we're doing this whole thing.

This weekend, I'm putting the babe to bed, gathering some girlfriends, and heading downtown to look for a dress, followed by some expensive swanky cocktails. It may be as close to a bachelorette party as I'll get, and I'm very excited. Wish me luck!

It's not often...

...that I get morning alone time. My babe woke me up at five o'clock sharp this morning. I spent the next hour hoping she would go back to sleep on her own, to no avail. At six I finally caved and nursed her, grumbling the whole time. And then I put her back down, closed the door to her room (not a peep! Yes!) and remembered how much I love mornings.

It's been a long time since we've had a sunrise like this. Hello, Olympics.

I put on a pot of coffee and sat down for some serious, guilt-free blog reading. Well, almost guilt-free. There are probably a million other things I could be doing with this time. But I've (mostly) learned to just savor every one of these rare quiet moments.

Just me and my favorite mug. 

In 23 Days

This girl is turing one in less than a month. And every time I think about it, I get teary.

Cut it out, Mom. You're embarrassing me.

She's growing so fast now; it's blowing my mind. I had to move her up to size 18 month jammies this week. *tear*

Though she is swimming in them. Swimming in jammies makes you tired. Growing is hard.

Every morning she wakes up and makes new sounds. Her babbling has taken on actual inflection, and she is a master of mimicry.

She's perfected tongue-clicking, and she thinks it's hilarious. I do, too.

She's such a happy little thing. A ham and a half. She claps, dances, waves and gives a mean high-five.

That goofy, toothy grin. Where did my baby go?

Lately, she's begun to snuggle with us on purpose. Tiny, wrinkly babies are wonderful, and they smell good and they're squishy and sweet. But there's something about an almost-toddler who comes over to put her head on your chest for a quick cuddle, just because. I know that the challenges will become more complex in the coming years, but those tiny moments of baby-love have me thinking that maybe, somehow, it's worth it.

Then again, the meltdowns at every diaper change have me thinking...not so much. Give me my baby back!

Breaking my heart, this one.

Sigh. I've got a birthday cake to bake.

Camera Love

First, comes baby. Then, comes blog. And then, comes a desperate need to take better photos. I've been dreaming about getting a DSLR for a long time, but it seemed far out of my reach and completely unnecessary when all I had to take photos of were pancakes and cats.

But then, I had a beautiful baby. And she grew, and grew, and grew, and here I am a month before her first birthday, longing to capture every single second of her short-lived babyhood. Babies do not hold still. Ever. Have you noticed?

Sure, we got some decent ones in the first few weeks, when she was a melty, grunting lump of digestion.

And things were hit-or-miss in the middle months, when she started to mobilize but was still slow.

But then, she learned how to crawl. And soon all of our photos began to look more or less like this:

...And I pouted. And whined. And stomped and lamented that my baby was growing too fast and we were just letting it all slip away! So Elliot got me a fancy camera. Not so fancy that I'm intimidated, not so fancy that I'll set up a photography studio and take pictures of newborns sleeping in hollowed-out watermelons, but far fancier than any point-and-shoot I've ever picked up. It's a Canon Rebel T2i, and I've never been happier to play with a gadget. I have no idea what I'm doing, of course, but this little guy is quite user-friendly and we were able to take some lovely snapshots straight out of the box.

This weekend has been full of the usual playdates in the park, laughing at the yuck faces babies make when you give them lemon slices, and not much else. But now? Look out, grandparents! I've got a new toy!

This is My lovely friend Brenda and her sweet little one. She and Little E are thick as thieves.

See?

Aforementioned lemon shot. There are lots of these.

There are also three hundred shots of babies on swings, but I'll spare you the rest.

And then, there are the ones that make my heart explode.
The cost of the camera is more than recouped right here.

Okay, okay. Enough already.

Last one, promise.

Next up: learn how to really use the camera. I've read over some super-easy tutorials courtesy of Ree, The Pioneer Woman, and I'll be spending the next, um, decade of my life practicing. Because I don't think I'm ever getting another gift again. 

Tips? I hate manuals. Talk to me like I'm four.