Three Generations

My mom is here this week and even though I had to do a lot of annoying things (dermotologist, dentist, two trips to the North Shore to get my tire rim fixed), there's something so sweet about having grandma here.

The first night my mom went to sleep in the nursery (that's the only spare bed in the house, is the little soft daybed JenG gave us) I was overcome with a warm fuzzy feeling. My mom and my daughter are tucked up together in the same room, warm and cozy and...together. I can tell that the baby makes my mom so happy. She doesn't need to do anything or see anybody. She's just clocking in as much baby time as possible. When I tell her that I need to run out for a few hours she sits up straight and gets energized, excited that her role is here. Grandma powers concentrated! Also, she gets up and rocks the baby if she wakes up in the middle of the night, which is becoming more rare. But now that she's moved to the nursery its so nice to not have to get out of bed at all. This is such a win-win for everyone involved. Especially motoboy who is taking advantage and getting as much race prep done as he can since mom arrived. He's very lucky about this timing.


Am battling another on-edge week of waiting for a job prospect to call me back ('let's talk on Monday', he now says), but am trying to soak up all the warm fuzzy grandma and baby feelings I can muster. And giving grandma beer and wine with dinner also leads to little bits of gossip here and there. "Why no, I never knew she was a topless dancer!" I said. That actually came out over omelets this morning. Grandma is good for gossip any time.

And especially good at baby holding.

E

A Week of Annoyances

I think my maternity leave needs to come to an end. As much as I am head over heels in loooove with my baby (there's no better baby), as much as I love having time off and hate working, as much as I think its been good for her...

I'm bored.

My brain hurts from it not being exercised.

My body needs more walking to the train and such, and less house puttering. (Not to mention a lunchtime workout if I can manage it.)

I need to stop resenting motoboy because he just can't physically catch up to the amount of baby wrangling I'm clocking.

I need to stop pulling money from savings. (My precious savings that I love to look at when I'm depressed!) I need to start making some paychecks.

I know most moms don't get 5 months at home with their new ones, and I do realize how lucky I am. But also, most moms maybe then don't know how mind numbingly boring a rainy Wednesday is with an infant that isn't even sitting up yet. I can play with her and make her laugh and read her books but in all reality, come Friday afternoon I'm holding a fussy baby on my lap, playing reality shows on hulu and clock watching for daddy to come home so I can have someone to hand her to while I go stretch my neck - towards a tall cool one. 

And I don't know why its just hit me this week. The construction is still going on in the back porch. My breastfeeding output is a joke since I stopped taking Reglan (scary side effect possibilities). The washing machine was out of order because the drywall guys put plaster down the drain. The dog has been a jerkface on the leash and the baby is taking half hour naps. I had a line on some part time freelance work and they ignored me a week past when they said they could book me, only to drop me (for someone better suited to 'filling out the kinds of forms we need'). Which was a relief after I saw how they operated. And thinking about last minute daycare options for a part time scenario was also making me stressed. I knew I couldn't really hire a nanny until I knew my hours and I didn't know my hours because I didn't have the job yet. I'll get another gig, I'm sure. But golly all these things made me cranky.

Andromeda, you can't get here fast enough. I need some girlfriend time! And I need our little girlfriends to trade outfits like we used to. We won't be able to do that for some time yet. I got some lactation cookies for you to try. They sure do look like regular cookies. But for my boobies, I will sacrifice!

E