I had all these grand ideas (*cough*delusions*cough*) when I was pregnant about what it would be like when George was here. He would be exclusively breastfed for the first 6 months of his life... he would sleep in his crib - binky free of course... I'd wake up in the morning, strap him into the jogging stroller, and go out for a quick 3 miles, after which I would return home and sip my (decaf) coffee while getting ready for work... I would kiss him good-bye and hand him to the nanny, heading off to the train where I would read my favorite magazines and mind candy books... I'd come home, prepare dinner for Tom and me, and we'd chat about our days while the boy played on his gym mat and the cats purred contentedly in the window... I would toss in a load of laundry, look around my clean house and smile, go upstairs and blog away about my blissfully happy life. Of course I would be back to my pre-pregnancy weight by the time I returned to work, and my pre-marriage weight by the annual beach trip.
HA. Hahahahahahahahahahhhhaaaaaaa!!!!! *snort* HHHHAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
For real. HA! He started getting formula in the hospital because he was just not getting enough to eat from me. For the first two weeks of his life, the only way I could get any sleep is if he slept on me... we were able to move him into the cradle swing in the corner of our room thanks to the Miracle Blanket recommended by the mommies on the running forum I chat on (and many thanks to those women for calming me down, helping me out, holding my hand, and laughing at me when I needed it. They got me through a lot!!). At four weeks we moved him to his crib, and Gretchen once again helped out by introducing me to a sleep positioner - between the swaddle and that he slept fairly well - and convincing me a pacifier was not a tool of the Devil and telling me to use the Fisher Price Aquarium - big product plug for that thing!! I remember once breaking down and crying to her that I had a battery acid eating binky sucking co-sleeper... little did I know... Starting at about 6 weeks the boy started sleeping through the night - going down between 10:00 and 11:00 and waking up around 5:00. That made such a difference!
I started the nanny search when George was about 4 weeks old, figuring it would take a couple weeks to find someone good and then I could have them in the house with me the first week or so and I could be here to ease the transition. HA. What the heck is up with people who apply to care for someone else's child?!?! Out of the 10 or so replies I got to the ad, I only wanted to even speak to 5 of them. After talking, 2 were immediately eliminated. When I told another one of them that we would be doing a background check I never heard from her again. The next one, after asking her to come by the house to meet us, told me that she actually didn't want to nanny in our house, she wanted us to bring George to her place where she watched a few other kids every day. When I asked her how many that was, she said "oh, 3 or 5 depending on the day." Uuuuuummmm, no. You need to be licensed for that in this state actually. And you lied to me from the get-go... do you think I'd trust my baby to you? The last one seemed to fall off the face of the earth, no longer returning my calls or emails. I then started calling day care places and that was worse. Finally, one of the places I called that did not have room for an infant - especially one who only needed part-time day care - called me back and said an old employee of hers was opening a home day care, it was already licensed by the State, and she was willing to take George part-time. I met with her and liked her a lot... George started the next week (before I was actually back to work to ease my separation anxiety).
The first day, Tom and I took him together. We walked in and chatted with Miss Andrea for a few minutes, meting some of the other kids and showing George around. They have a bouncy seat just like his at home, so we kissed him and strapped him into it and said good-bye. When we walked out the door I burst into tears and turned around to get my baby... Tom took me by the arm and gently led me away. Once again my running mommies came to my rescue - I was in tears and wanted to go get my baby... they chatted with me, consoled me, commiserated with me, told me to go shopping or go for a run... so run I did, for the first time since giving birth. It wasn't fast and there was lots of walking but it felt good. That afternoon I picked George up and all was well. He loves Miss Andrea and the kids at daycare.
Things have fallen into a routine here. Some mornings I get up early and "run" - between exhaustion and my lovely knees, it's not nearly as much as I would like. Tom takes the boy downstairs and feeds and dresses him while I pack his bag for day care. They leave and I get ready for work - including drinking a pot of full-caff coffee (and it was so hard to cut out caffiene when I was pregnant). On Wednesdays (my telecommute day) Tom brings him back up to me in bed and we sleep in a bit... on Thursdays and Fridays when Tom plays Mr. Mom they go back to bed when I leave. Tom brings him home from day care - usually before I am home from work - and they eat dinner. I eat when I come home... the guys curl up downstairs while I do work I brought home, try to tackle the mess in the house, do laundry, pay bills... whatever. We still take about an hour before we go to sleep to cuddle on the bed, read, and chat - a habit we got into when we first got married that I am glad we still do, only now George is usually in between us when we do this. We put him into his crib (with his binky and a blanket - I am a Britney mom) and we go to bed. We wake up in the morning and it all starts over.
You know what? My kid eats formula. He sucks on a binky. The house is a mess. I work too much. Tom works too hard and has the majority of child care most days since he takes George to and from day care and is home two days a week with him... we rarely eat dinner together... I had to buy new clothes because nothing I owned fit and I could not go to work in running pants or naked... the half marathon in September is not going to be pretty due to my lack of real running or training... but we are all happy and healthy, George is thriving, our marriage is strong... so I guess the best laid plans don't really matter. Life matters and we seem to be doing just fine at it.
Here he is all wrapped up in the swaddle (which Aunt Susan thinks is cruel) and in the positioner. And this is why he no longer uses either of those things and sleeps in little pajamas -
The little Houdini was busting out of both. He now curls up on his tummy with his little tushy in the air. I'll get a picture of that and post it later.
