Working Mom

Shame on me! It has been too long since an entry to my ever so intriguing life! Well, maybe it's not so intriguing, but my fans need me. And by fans I mean all 6 subscribers who read this blog. Anyhow, as the title suggests, I am a working mom. I went back on March 2. I thought that the morning I woke up and had to leave Mason would be tug at my heart. Wrong! I was running so behind schedule I barely had time to kiss his toesies and tell him by. Having stayed home for 6 weeks with the kiddo I made some conclusions. I see how there are people who want to stay at home. And I also see how there are those who choose to be a working mom. Staying home is great because you don't miss a moment. You are there for everything. And this is beautiful. However, for me there was a time where I longed to do something adultish. Unfortunately, there are not too many people who are also home during the day, so you are forced to make small talk wit someone who does not respond. And while this is great for many moms, it was not for me. I realized that I kinda like working. I like being around people who converse with me, although many of them don't offer the infectious smile that Mason does. So, I am glad that I am in a profession where I get a break here and there, so I do have periods of time to catch some precious moments. I probably also Like working because I do not have a choice. So until we strike it rich, I will work and come home to my lil baby boy. It's a nice end to a long day. I can be around a bunch of other people kids who I am scared to touch because of illness, but I come home to my own and can cuddle with him all I want. I am sure by summer I will be yearning to be home and spend time with Mason, but for now I shall trek to my low paying job and come home to my fella.

Oblivion

Well, my sister had her baby, so Grandma and I went to see the lil bundle of joy. And while I noticed how precious he was and his head full of hair, I noticed something more. He was a newborn. I totally missed the newborn state for Mason. And this led me to another realization. My baby was a preemie! Of course I realized it when he was born at thirty weeks, but seeing Karson really put it into perspective. Mason was tiny. He had tubes galore hooked up to him. He could not breathe on his own. His heart had an open valve, a hole essentially. His blood count was closely monitored because his "crit count" was low. They were even talking blood transfusion. Yet, I was oblivious. I knew that he was a preemie, but I just saw him as a small baby. The severity never really crossed my mind. He had a long road ahead of him just to get out of the hospital. And preemies are not out of the clear just because they gain weight and go home. His development is more aligned with a newborn than a nearly four month old. This will be the case for a while. But when I look at him I see my baby. However, when we go to the mall I get "Ohhh he's so small". Small?! My baby ain't small! He has tripled his weight. He's a big boy. That's what I think, but really...he is small. He's the same size as my five day old nephew. He spent fifty days in the hospital. We could only hold him for short periods of time because he needed to be in his isolete to help regulate his body temperature. Our little man (what Pat calls him) has come a long way. I just didn't realize he had so many odds against him when he graced us with his early presence. We knew he was gonna be alright, which he was. So being oblivious was not bad in this situation. I'm really glad that he was oblivious to his prematurity, too.

I'm a mama

It has been three months, but from time to time it hits me. I'm a mom! This got me to thinking. What are the signs that let me know I'm a parent now? And while these things apply to me, I'm sure there are some other folk out there who can relate to at least one of my thoughts. Here are signs that let me know I am a mama:
- You find half completed tasks around the home two hours after you started them. The dishwasher left open, the orange juice left out next to an empty glass or a reply to a text that you never sent.
-You ask yourself "What day is it?" or "When was the last time I ate?" or "Did I brush my teeth today?"
- The last song you listened to, found yourself dancing to or sang was "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" or some other lullaby.
- When someone asks you "What time did you get up this morning?" you look at them perplexed.
- Your purse is really a diaper bag or is it your diaper bag is your purse?
- You base errands on a feeding schedule.
- The last time you were rocking at 3a.m., you really were rocking.
- You have sucked a pacifier. (I swored I'd never do it, sadly I have)
- Your favorite scent is Dreft or Johnson's Baby.
- Your "good clothes" consist of anything that doesn't have milk or bodily fluids on it.

I'm sure I could go on, cause I keep thinking of the "signs" as I type. However, I'm gonna go hang with my lil man instead. After all, I am a mama.

Proud Parents

Parents are a proud people. Proud that their child scored a soccer goal. Proud they can read a chapter book. Proud they can write their name. So being a teacher with no biological kids, I was a bit over all this pride. Sure I can see the pride in your child writing their name, but some of that stuff seemed over the top... until November 6th. That's the day we became proud parents like millions of others. We, Pat and I, gush at everything that Mason does. We have been proud of every ounce he has gained. Grinned from ear to ear when he started drinking from a bottle. Ecstatic when he had normal urine output. Thrilled when the feeding tube was removed. I could go on. We could not be prouder! Pat was beaming when he realized Mason could follow him with his eyes. And you should have seen us when he began trying to hold his head up. We keep talking about the "big" milestones and how excited we are going to be when he hits them. We can't wait for him to hold his bottle or crawl or hug us. But these things are small potatoes compared to the pride kids can truly bring. He's going to start school one day and graduate and go to college. What pride we will have for those accomplishments. However, he's only three months. So right now we have a new moment of pride we're waiting for. Sleeping for more than three hours. That's gonna be the proudest we've been thus far.

Imagine

Here are ten things I never imagined:
 I never imagined I'd be a poo inspector. I look at each poo to make sure it's "normal". I have to, apparently poos will morph. I need to be in the know.
 I never imagined it would be so hard to remove a boogie from a baby's nose! An aspirator helps some, but it is still a challenge. So challenging that I actually thought of using Mason's finger to get a boogie out. (It was a quick thought, and I did not do it people)
I never imagined I'd be so comfortable with bodily fluids. Drool is a part of my life. You get everything on you as a mommy. The weird thing is you don't even care. The other day I had just dressed Mason when he began to spit up. I actually caught it with my hand so that I would not have to change his clothes!
 I never imagined it would be such a task to dress a baby! Here's why...the head! Their head is 60% of their body and it's soft. I'm nervous to put a shirt on it, and he's squirming. I thought it would be a quick pull and you're done. Wrong. I try to avoid shirts as much as possible.
 I never imagined I'd lose my memory at such a young age. I pride myself in the ability to remember things. But sadly, I forget what I am saying mid sentence. I even got my child's birth date wrong the other day!
 I never imagined I'd be so smitten by someone, especially so soon. Patrick and I had a long courtship...longer than most. And while I liked him, I was not smitten by him. But Mason, ohhhhh he's a dream! He can do not wrong. I can't believe how fast it happened. Everything he does is "cute", "precious", "adorable".  It's amazing.
When you're younger you have lots of thoughts about your future. You imagine your fancy well paying job or your glamorous wedding or traveling the world.  Last year I imagined we'd buy a house in 2011 and start a family when I was 30. Last your I never, I repeat NEVER imagined I'd be a mommy.  Never did I imagine any of these things. But you know what? I don't mind. I love my Mason and now I can't imagine life without him.

Progress Report

The last time I did report cards, I followed up with conferences, then topped it off with a baby. It's report card time, so I figure I need to do another update on the baby. A progress report of sorts. For starters, he is known by the following: Mason, Mason Jett, Jett, MJ, and The Baby. I call him Mason, but to each his own. He is up to 6lbs 1oz as of 1.20.10. He is working so very hard on holding his head up. It's quite funny since half his body weight is housed there. He'll be on the cusp of getting it, then topple over. Hilarious. Also, he is doing a better job of tracking objects with his eyes. We work on this a few times a day.Fortunately,  he has been less cranky when he gets a dirty diaper, which makes me happy. I was tired of hearing his complaints at the drop of wetness or poo. However, I would not have minded if he squealed yesterday; for, I was the victim of a poo that crept out of the Huggies and onto me. And it was on my new house pants =( We've been trying to get his feedings up to 60mL a session, currently he's at 50ish. There are too many cute, fat babies being born at my job that he is competing with. Skinny babies finish last, so he's gotta pack on the weight. His latest (and most eye rolling for me) thing is this outburst of crying he does. He cries (for probably 7 seconds) like I am pinching him. We're sooooo over that, too bad he is not. We have decided he is just finding his voice. After all, he had to listen to his roomy cry constantly in the hospital. So, he has had some lessons on how to cry. We are super lucky that a friend gave us a swing. We can get a bit more done while he swings away. I'll be glad when he can fit in a carrier. That way he can hang out with me while I do whatever it is I do. Overall, he is still a pretty good baby. I'll let you know if it still holds true on his next progress report.

The greatest gift?

What's the greatest gift? The gift of life? The gift of love? The gift of reading? Nope, nope, and nope. Apparently, I am giving Mason the greatest gift I can give him. Breast milk. Now, I have some issues with people asking me if I am breastfeeding. Mainly, not everyone produces milk; and I would be sad if I had to repeatedly tell people that. People have a lot of interest in what milk my child is receiving. I can tell when I meet a breast milk proponent. They have a look in their eyes. One lady said "It is the best thing you can do for your child". Really, lady? The best? Out of allllllll the things I could do for my child? How about not drinking or using drugs while pregnant? That's a good gift. How about a stable home or the simple gift of love? I work with some kids, and I sure can't tell the ones who were breastfed. Yet, I certainly can tell a kid from an unstable home. I digress, for that is another blog. Back to the milk. The nurse brought a breast pump to the room the day after child birth. It's a process. You have to pump on a schedule, which was really difficult to do when I did not have a baby at home. And as the days went one, nurses would ask if I would be breast feeding. Lactation consultants would call to see if I was still going strong at home. They even tried to get me to sign a consent form for Mason to receive donor milk if I could not produce my own. (By the way I answered NO!) Pressure, so much pressure. I'm glad I can offer this "super food" to my child, but it comes at a price. It doesn't feel that pleasant. Your breast become tender at odd moments. If Mason and I are bonding too much they begin to leak. If we're not bonding they leak. You have to build your daily schedule around pumping. It ain't for the weak. Nonetheless, I am doing it. Besides, it's cheaper and allegedly helps you lose weight.