Thursday, January 8, 2015

what comes after baby?

You know the old rhyme, say it with me - "First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage..." and to my knowledge, that's it.  Haha - I'm certainly no expert when it comes to elementary school rhymes, and just ask Tate, I don't know squat for nursery rhymes either (he laughs when I attempt singing anyway).  But I have to ask - what about all the time between being the baby in the baby carriage and the age that you fall in love?  A lot of stuff goes down in those 18 to 25 or so years!  Where's the song about that?  Taylor Swift, anyone?

I write this as I sit in Tate's room with him screaming his head off.  Night number two of yet another attempt to let him "cry it out."  This BLOWS.  He's that baby we've been pining for the last 3.5 years and now I'm sitting here, knowing that I could just pick him up and stop the tears, and yet, I'm allowing it to continue.  Hey hey, don't judge me, this is supposedly a tried and true method that'll help him sleep and allow us to get some sleep, too.  I even went to the doctor today to make sure there's nothing wrong with him before this torture ensued.  He's fine, perfect really - health-wise and in every other way...well apart from the not sleeping thing.  A work in progress, we'll say.

Before the holidays we had a routine.  We had just added rice cereal and were given the green light to start slowly giving him other foods as well.  Unfortunately, all it took was 2 weeks of non-routine and him being away from home to totally screw this kid up, and mom and dad haven't slept all week.  He hasn't slept more than 2 hours at a time for a couple weeks now.  We traveled to Longview for a week, then back to Houston for a few days, then to Rio for 5 days.  Before the holidays, if he'd wake up, we just had to put his paci in his mouth and he'd fall back to sleep.  Now?  He screams bloody murder and takes 20, 30, 45 minutes to go back to sleep and that's only been once I gave in and rocked him back to sleep!  Miles took nighttime duty last night, and I woke up at 7:15 this morning - when Miles usually leaves for work - went to the living room and he was zonked on the couch.  Tate woke up every hour all night, and then cried for an hour before going back to sleep.  When I called Miles at work a little later, he said "I got zero hours of sleep last night."  Sucks for you, I slept great.  Wink wink! 

Ok ok, before you judge, that was me singing the zero hours of sleep tune from Sunday to Wednesday!

So I took Tate to the doc.  He checked out just fine, and doc said it can take some babies an hour and a half to 2 hours to fall asleep...BUT IT GETS BETTER.  She said give it 5 days.  I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...

But it sucks.

And I don't want to.

But oh how I miss sleep.

But he's crying.

TORTURE.

ANYWAY - totally not what this blog was going to be about, but there ya go.  The wandering mind that awaits you post-partum.  Some days I feel like I've totally lost my mind.  I forget everything.  Twice I've gone to the store without my wallet.  Who does that???  

So the point of the blog - what comes once baby is here?  So far, you can see that a lost mind (and wallet if you're me) is the negative.  Oh but the positive!  We'll get to that in a bit... 

Everybody out there has a billion opinions about how you should do everything - and most of them don't hesitate to tell you even though you don't remember asking...but then again, you don't remember shit, so who knows, maybe you did.  Nope, you didn't.  But the "experts" want to tell you anyway.  So just let them.  And take the advice that you want and ignore the rest.

So much easier said than done, right?  And people have virtually zero filter when it comes to raising babies.  What's up with that?

So many days I feel like such a freaking failure.  Other days I feel like "I got this."  The feeling like a failure days seem much more common than the others, but I think that's normal.  What I do know is that I love this kid more than I ever could have imagined.  I can be so pissed, so aggravated, so badly wanting to pull my hair out and he smiles and I MELT.  I give.  I lose.  That mother f'ing dimple.  He kills me!  But that's the beauty of unconditional love.  And I'm so happy for that.

Although I know there's no set "right way" to raise a baby, I still crave knowing what other people do, even if I totally disagree with their methods.  When it comes down to it, we all just want healthy babies that we are doing our very best job to raise (although some days, I can't lie, I think of it in more of a "I'm just trying to keep this nugget alive" kind of way than anything else).  

The big hot button issue right now is breastfeeding v. the alternative (dum dum DUMMMMMMMM). Honestly, as much as I love social media and how wonderful I think it is in so many ways, I absolutely hate it in other ways.  I know I've written about this before, but here I go again.  Seriously, it gives people an outlet to say whatever they want with absolutely no repercussions and a screen to hide behind.  People like my Mimi, who says whatever she wants whenever she wants, used to not be so commonplace.  But holy crap, social media comes along and there are Patricia Behanicks EVERYWHERE!  The thing about Mimi is that she's so cute and funny that no one really gets offended by anything she says.  She's Mimi, she's almost 80 years old, so back off.  :) People on the internet aren't cute.  They're smug and pompous and so staunchly opinionated (wait, am I one of those people right now?  Ah...the irony).  I think social media is causing a much greater divide in our population, whether it's race, politics or the like.  People cannot accept that there are differing opinions and ideas out there and will fight DIRTY to get attention and they'll have no respect for alternate viewpoints.  SIDE NOTE: I must note a positive here...social media has allowed me to stay in touch with friends from Australia that we met on a cruise in 2008, and for that I will be forever grateful!  My sister from across the world is even coming to stay with us next week!  Tate can't wait to meet you, Pete!  So thank you for that, Facebook! :) I'm getting off track here, but the negatives of social media apply to baby-raising, just as they do race and politics.

My point is, as great as it is to have the ability to go online and seek help, you're often going to be made to feel like crap if you hit on a touchy subject - such as the breast v. bottle debacle.  Unfortunately I am all too familiar with this debate, and as much as I hated reading those stupid comments that made me feel worthless, I. just. couldn't. stop.  Self-deprecation much?  New moms torture themselves enough as it is, so if you're reading this and not yet a mother, here's my un-sought after advice:  DON'T WORRY ABOUT WHAT ANYONE ELSE THINKS IS BEST.  YOU ARE THE MOM.  YOUR OPINION IS THE ONLY ONE THAT MATTERS.  Again, waaaaaay easier said than done.


Not that it's really anyone's business, but I slowly quit pumping around 3.5 months and totally stopped at about 4.5 months, right before Christmas.  There are so many reasons I stopped, but the fact that I feel like I had to justify my reasons to people has about killed me.  I felt guilty and horrible and selfish.  But WHY???  I never breast-fed after about 3 weeks.  Tate was never satisfied, and I'm too much of a control freak to not know what he was getting.  So I went to the pump.  And we continued supplementing, just as they had at the hospital (NICU baby, remember?).  I was "happy" to be able to supply Tate with what is "natural," but let me just tell you, I was MISERABLE.  I am so jealous of people who love breastfeeding.  Of those who feel it's a great bond with their little ones.  Of people that don't feel that it's sucking the life out of them.  I so badly wish I was one of those people.  But I'm not.  And I'm finally okay with that.  Every time I pumped, I felt depressed.  Now, I'm a generally happy person, but I could literally feel a wave of massive sadness come over my body EVERY SINGLE TIME.  It was horrible.  It was far from normal.  From natural.  I wasn't being the mom I wanted to be because I felt like that was taking over my entire being.  It's all I thought about, and I dreaded it.  I was tense and easily angered and just felt lost to be honest.  But...I worried what other people would think.  I let that control me, and that wasn't best for Tate.

Now, you go online and get caught up reading comments on the breast v. bottle debate and it'll make you feel like absolute ass to be a "bottle-feeder."  Not only that, but you'll get comments from people you know as well, and it's hurtful.  I don't want to feel like I'm not doing the best I can for my baby.  I don't want to be villainized because something that is supposed to be so natural just wasn't feeling natural to me.  So many are quick to judge and say "you gave up too easily" or "you are just being selfish."  Well, maybe that's true (although is it really their business? Um. No.).  But me being selfish about that has helped me be much less selfish about other things.  I'm happier and I'm a better mom since I stopped, and whether you believe that or not is your own opinion...and I'm not asking your opinion nor am I seeking anyone's approval.  Booyah.

Plus, let's be honest.  Tate loves to eat, so he could not care less what I feed him.  And he's the product of Jennifer Comfort and Miles Cobb, so the kid is going to be a freaking genius anyway.  HAHAHAHA. I kid, I kid.

By the way, if you haven't read this satirical story, do yourself a favor and read it now.  Breast or bottle feeder, it's FUN-NY.

Now I'm just staring at my Tot on the monitor, sleeping soundly in his now sweat-soaked Superman outfit.  Gonna be a looooooong 18+ years if I don't toughen up a bit!  Doc said let him sweat, let him scream, let him spit up...it's all part of the crying it out process.  I'm WEAK.  But he's asleep, so.  There ya go.  Yes, y'all, I was in the room with him and checked on him constantly, and no, I'm not a horrible person.

He's been an amazing baby, and this has been the craziest 4 months and 27 days of my entire life.  WARNING: BRAGGING ABOUT TO COMMENCE, CONTINUE READING AT YOUR OWN RISK.
This kid is so awesome.  He is so cute it makes me want to cry.  He's so strong and typically happy and boy does he love his mama.  :)  He's super skittish, but I'm glad to know his hearing is great.  He loves Hambone, now that he's noticed him.  He's even started petting Hambone, which is frickin adorable.  He loves daddy too, especially the beard.  He unfortunately loves TV and reaches for phones and iPads and anything with a screen (while it keeps him occupied now, I'll be paying for it later).  But it's okay because he also loves being outside, so that gives me hope. :) He has held his own bottle since he was 3 months old, he can (basically) sit up on his own and he's already trying to crawl.  But he hasn't rolled over.  Who cares, just more for me to worry about when he does!  Doc said it's fine, so I can rest easy.  Rest.  HA!  By the way, don't research delayed milestones - pretty sure Sir Google told me it's an early sign of autism.  Puh-leeze.  Anywho, Tate loves to jump, which excites the heck out of me because this kid has no choice but to be around sports.  His Johnny Jumper gets lots of use!  He will literally sit and watch football with his daddy.  Also adorable.  He thinks my Maw Maw and my Aunt Christy are hilarious.  They can make him giggle like no other.  He has his 4 grandparents Pop and Dini (Miles's parents) and Lulu and Poppa (my parents) wrapped around his pudgy little finger.  It's hilarious when we FaceTime our parents.  There's literally no adult conversation but we will spend 20+ minutes googoo and gaga'ing trying to get him to smile for whoever is on the other end.  He grabs my hair, my necklace, my shirt, my scarf - basically whatever he can get his hands on at this point - and pulls relentlessly.  I am constantly pulling my detached hair out of his hands, his mouth, his toes...  He wears size 6 months or 9 months in clothes, but still fits in shoes designated "6 weeks."  His feet are so tiny but so awesomely fat!  And his new thing is putting them in his mouth.  Priceless.  He decided he did not like to sleep while I shopped just in time for Christmas shopping.  Needless to say, I still haven't gotten around to getting everyones' gifts... oops.  He's got the most delicious dimples, one much more prominent than the other, which he already uses against me.  Watch out girls, he's going to be a lady-killer!  Everyone is obsessed with his ridiculous eyebrows.  Never heard so many people talk about a baby's eyebrows before, but I guess his are just that awesome.  Y'all.  He has a mustache!  NOT JOKING. NOT EXAGGERATING.  He's got like a peach fuzz trash 'stache.  It's one of my favorite things about that perfect face.  Everyone joked about all Miles's facial hair saying "Oh your baby is gonna have a beard" and such...well, so far no beard, but one hell of a 'stache.  Yeah, he's a baby Tom Selleck.  "Tot" Selleck, if you will.  ;)

So what happens after baby?  Well, you actually do fall in love.  Only this time, it's with a tiny version of a human being.  A tiny, perfect, completely-dependent-upon-you precious angel that you will love so freely and so unconditionally and so genuinely and cannot imagine your life without.  You are responsible for molding that young innocent being into something great, and although it's not always easy, it's one of the greatest gifts God gives us.  The long, long nights and longer days, the unending cry-fests (both you and baby), the diaper explosions, the inability to have a social life, the never-ending research (damn you, Google.)...it's all so easily forgettable when that baby grins.  It's hard to believe Tater is almost 5 months old.  Time is flying by already, and according to everyone I never asked, before I know it he'll be leaving for college! :)  So in the mean time, I will savor the moments, both good and bad (because any new parent who is being truly honest can tell you, there are times when IT. GETS. BAD.), and I will thank God every day for choosing me to be that little boy's mama!



Mommy's angel!










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