Swimming Was a Hit!

William's daycare called today at 10:30 and said William's nose was excessively runny and he was very cranky. So what can you do but go pick him up? I made a doctor's appointment for him to rule out an ear infection, and met Ed at the daycare so we could switch cars and he could take William to the doctor. When I got to the center, William was sitting at the table, happily eating cheerios and drinking his bottle. I think he was cranky because he was hungry. But his nose is very runny, so I guess I can't blame them for calling me. He checked out fine at the doctor's, and in the afternoon, I left work early so that Ed could go back to work.

So here's where I finally get to the point of this post. After William took a 3-hour nap, I took him to the big pool and he LOVED it! It took him a little while to get acclimated. The water was a little cold. And the baby pool was closed so we had to swim in the big pool. But once he got used to the water, he started playing with a small inflatable ball that we found (his new favorite game is to throw a ball and then retrieve it and throw it again), and he couldn't get enough of it. Then I should him how he could sit on the steps and crawl around a little and he was totally into that. (Which makes me look forward to when the baby pool opens!) When it was finally time to go, he didn't want to leave! I'm so happy he loves the pool. Since our Mommy and Me class isn't going so well, I was worried, but I guess it's all good. Yay! Now I need to find a pool in our new neighborhood. That is one thing I will definitely miss--the pool is less than a block from our house! And our pool has an awesome baby pool with a grassy area that has toys and a playhouse and climbing toy.

Anyway, last night was tough--as I had anticipated. William woke up at 3:00 a.m. and was none too pleased that I was making him go back to sleep in his crib. At first I tried to put him back down without giving him a bottle, but he was up again in less than 5 minutes crying. So after a second attempt with no bottle, I gave him a bottle. But he STILL didn't want to go to sleep in his crib. Ed even gave it a shot, but that was a no-go. So after about an hour, I gave him a dose of Tylenol and held him until he drifted off and then put him in his crib. A compromise I guess. At any rate, we'll see what happens tonight.

Trip Down Memory Lane

Tonight I started the evening's packing by going through our box of old cassette tapes. Most of them were mixed tapes that I had made back in the days. Remember that era? I could spend hours picking out songs and recording one after another on the dual cassette tape deck. Those tapes had such meaning! There's one or two from the high school years, and a ton from college. And then there are the tapes I made post-college, when I first moved to DC. I had to bust out Ed's Walkman (remember those?) so I could listen to the tapes. Boy did they take me back. I seriously felt like my whole young-adult life passed before my eyes. The friends, parties, graduations, boyfriends, break-ups, movies, dates--nothing like music to make memories so tangible.

So I packed knickknacks and picture frames while I listened to a few of the tapes. And then I went through them again, and took note of the songs and the artists, and then I threw them out. I kept a few that I wanted to remember, and as soon as I get the songs from iTunes and download them to my iPod, I'll throw those tapes out, too. I mean really, they're obsolete. I can only listen to them on this Walkman, anyway. And it's even more obsolete! Considering how sentimental I am (a.k.a. a pack rat!), this is a big deal. But I think this is the kick in the pants I need to get more use out of my iPod. I've had it since Christmas and have fewer than 100 songs on it so far. And most of those are kids' songs for William! It's time to get back into music. I want one of those speakers for the iPod so I'll use it more at home.

Anyway, while jamming to my music (which Ed tolerated very nicely, btw) I managed to pack all of our pictures frames, the knickknacks from downstairs, and I went through a two bins of mementos from my childhood and cleaned them out and consolidated them into one. Not too shabby, huh? We're really making progress with this packing stuff. Of course, we've just hit the tip of the iceberg. But at least it's progress.

As for William, he had a pretty good day today, thank goodness. He only napped for about an hour and a half, so he was pretty wiped out by 7:00 p.m. But we'll see how he sleeps tonight. Last night he slept pretty well, but he woke up at 11:00 p.m. and didn't want to go back to sleep in his crib. I guess he decided he likes sleeping with Mommy! So last night I indulged him and lay down in his bed with him and once he was asleep I put him back in his crib. But tonight, he'll have to go back to sleep in his crib. So it could get ugly.

It's late and I need to get to sleep. Tomorrow night, I'll tackle the knickknacks upstairs. And then there are drawers to clean out. Yuck!

Flashbacks

I stayed home with William today and had flashbacks all day to his first month. We've finally come full circle with the weather, and being home on a weekday brought me back to my maternity leave. We had a gorgeous weekend and today was even nicer, and this is what it was like when we brought William home from the hospital. It seems so long ago and yet like it was just yesterday. I remember all the walks we took, and my first trip to Target, and all the help we had. I also talked to my friend today who had her baby on William's birthday, and that brought back memories, too. She is doing really well and went on her first solo outing today. I think it was a month before I did a solo outing. And it was probably that long before I had an entire day alone with William, too. I was pretty stingy with him, and didn't give my helpers a lot of time with him. No one else seemed to be able to get him to stop crying. Of course, I didn't give them much of a chance, either. But how long was I supposed to listen to him cry? Anyway, that was such a hard time but such an amazing time, too. Here are some pics:

This is the day we brought him home:


And here he is exactly one year ago today:

And here is he is today:


Speaking of today, it was rough. Taking care of a sick baby when you're sick SUCKS! William didn't sleep well again last night and was awake from 2:00 a.m. to around 3:30 a.m. Then he decided to wake up at 5:15 for the day. Then he didn't take good naps, either, which I had totally counted on. He only slept for an hour in the morning and then an hour and a half in the afternoon. Boo. For much of the day I lay on the couch under a blanket while William played in the living room. Until he got fussy or hungry or just wanted my attention. I actually fell asleep at one point and he thought it was hysterical when he banged on my chest and scared the daylights out of me. So that was our day. I'm worried about him wheezing, so depending on how tonight goes, we may visit the doctor tomorrow. Fingers crossed that we're both over the worst of it.

We Had a Good Run

William has a bad cold and he has graciously shared it with Ed and me. We all feel like crap. But so far, we're all being good sports. It's been a good run, though, because he hasn't been sick in almost a month. I knew he was getting sick, though. He took a 3-hour nap on Thursday, and his nose has had some tell-tale runnyness going on (which I was hoping was just mild allergies, but I think I knew better). Yesterday (Sunday) he was a little cranky in the morning. He woke up at 5:45 a.m. (oh joy!) and fell asleep on the floor at 10:00 a.m. I put him in his crib, but had to wake him up at 10:30 so we could go to the engagement party. He was fine during the party, and he fell asleep in the car on the way home, so as soon as we got home, I took him straight to my bed and lay down with him, hoping he'd go back to sleep. Sure enough, he did, and we both slept for another hour and a half!

Last night, however, was terrible. He was up at 1:45 a.m., then 2:45 a.m., and then he stayed up until a little past 4:00 a.m. I gave him some ibuprofen at 2:45, and a bottle, but for some reason, he just wouldn't settle. He wasn't even all that cranky--he just wasn't tired. I was thinking maybe the ibuprofen made him hyper, (it was a store brand, instead of Motrin) but who knows. At any rate, he finally fell asleep with me in the bed in his room, and we slept that way until 7:45 this morning. Then he took a 3-hour nap from 11:00 to 2:00 today. So, I don't have high expectations for a good night tonight.

Anyway, William being sick has derailed the plan to cut down on bottles this weekend. I want to make sure he gets plenty of fluids, and he just doesn't drink juice or water. He hasn't been eating all that well, either, so I'm not going to worry about weaning for right now. I'm just hoping this cold will pass quickly and won't morph into anything more serious. I'm not sure we'll make it to daycare tomorrow. He wasn't too bad today, but you could tell he didn't feel well. The funny thing is, though, he has suddenly became very attached to his blanket. It's kind of cute, but also a little problematic. First of all, the blanket was a gift, and I'm not sure how easy it would be to get a spare. Second of all, the blanket is big, and as he tries to drag it around with him, he trips all over it. I'm going to try to find a smaller version and see if that will work. I called him Linus this weekend because it's a big blue blanket and he looks like Linus as he walks around. Here's a picture. It's blurry but you get the idea:


Finally, since William's nose is like a faucet and he also has that post-nasal drip cough, we decided to take a pass on trying out the swimming pool this weekend. Instead we hung out at home all day today and Ed and I got more packing done. Ed finished packing almost all the books and I tackled our closet and cleaned out and sorted clothes and other crap, and I also went through William's toys and sorted out the infant toys and boxed them up, and then organized his toys. So the rest of this week, we plan to pack up knickknacks, pictures, and I get to go through the closets in William's room (which are full of our crap, not his!). The good thing about getting all this done now is that we can see just how many more boxes we need. And we're also purging, which is greatly needed! Okay, off to bed. I may be home tomorrow, which wouldn't be a bad thing considering how I feel!

One Year's Worth of Baby Clothes

This morning, Ed, William, and I went to Walmart to buy plastic storage bins in preparation for our big move. I needed the bins to store William's clothes that he had outgrown, among other things. I have had baby clothes stashed everywhere in our house. And I mean everywhere--even in my car. So when we got home, William went down for a nap, and I went to work. That was at 11:00 a.m. Seven hours later, this is the result of my labor:

Yep--that's one year of clothes. Actually, two of the bins have older sizes that we inherited from my cousin. But still, that's 5 huge bins of clothes for a baby. The scariest part of this, however, is that looking at how much space William's clothes take up makes us realize just how much crap we really have to pack and move. Yikes! I bet I could fill five more bins with just William's toys.

So, you can see how I spent my Saturday of Memorial Day weekend. Actually, despite the fact that I'm totally exhausted, we had a really good day. William managed to find lots of things to play with while I sorted clothes, and only tried to "help" me a little bit by pulling apart my neatly formed piles. The funniest part was watching him try to negotiate the living room with all the bins, bags, and clothes strewn all over everywhere. He was a surprisingly good sport. We played outside for a little while, and Ed took him on a couple of walks.

We decided that this weekend, would make a concerted effort to get William to drink from sippy cups instead of the bottle. I'm trying to cut down on the amount of formula/milk that he drinks, and I think cutting down on the bottles will accomplish this for us. Today he only had 3 bottles--one at 5:00 a.m., one at 10:00 on the way to Walmart (and that one was all milk), and one before bed. The rest of the day he drank milk from sippy cups. I'm not really sure how much he drank, but it was probably around 6 ounces. So that's still more than the 20 ounces our pediatrician recommended, but it's better than where we were! Tomorrow, we're going to an engagement brunch for Ed's cousin, so we'll see what happens. I'm going to try to just do the morning bottle and the evening bottle. But it's a long car ride, so I'm not setting the bar too high.

Our other exciting news is that we got our washer and dryer for the new house. We bought a friend's used set. It's the Kenmore Elite HE3 pair. I'm so excited. It's only 2 years old, and comes with the pedestals. Woo-hoo! We're getting a good deal, too. Now we just have to figure out when we're going to get it and how we're going to move it and get it down stairs in the new house and all hooked up.

Well, I have laundry to fold before I can hit the sack, so that's all for me tonight. Tomorrow afternoon I'm hoping to take William swimming. We'll just have to see how the day goes.

New Mom Secrets

My friend Laura wrote a wonderful post on her mom secrets, which got me thinking about mine, and about motherhood (and parenthood) in general. Laura wrote, "I pride myself on trying to be an honest mom, because I think society's expectations of mothers are a big part of why moms lie. People expect your baby to be well-behaved and sleep through the night at an early age or society says you are a bad mother. And if you don't love love love motherhood and glow about how perfect life is, society questions whether you are a good mother." I couldn't agree with her more. To this day, I still can't help but feel guilty or like I'm not a "good" mother because William still doesn't sleep through the night, or because breastfeeding was so hard and we never really got into a "groove," or because I cried A LOT the first two months.

My biggest mom "secret" though, is probably that after I delivered William and the doctor laid him on my chest and I saw him for the first time, I was very happy and relieved and I loved him instantly, but I didn't feel a GUSH of emotion. I didn't cry, and I wasn't overwhelmed. I wouldn't say it was anticlimactic, but it was close. And it's not really a big deal--but just something I've always felt a little guilty about.

My second new mom "secret" isn't really much of a secret, but it's something that I didn't expect and don't really like to admit. I am a control freak and haven't given Ed much credit or much of a chance to be a full partner when it comes to caring for William. I don't trust him to do things the "right" way. When we were in the hospital after delivering William, Ed wasn't very good at getting William to stop crying. He would just hold William and not do anything, and it made me nuts. I would try to tell him to do something different, hold him a different way, or bounce him, but then I would get mad because Ed couldn't (and still can't!) bounce gently. So then I would get exasperated, and I'd take over. And Ed let me. From there, it goes on and on--he doesn't mix the formula right, he doesn't put him in the car seat right, he doesn't clean the bottles well enough. And the bad part is, Ed doesn't take "advice" from me very well. And apparently, I don't give advice well. So it hasn't been an easy year. It's something that Ed and I butt heads about, so there hasn't been a lot of productive dialogue, either. It's just something that we have both let fester, and now I regret it. Now don't get me wrong--I think that Ed is a wonderful father. I really do. And he is way more capable than I give him credit for. I need to let him find his own way more, and he needs to let me help him more. Now that we've finally come up for air after surviving the first year, this is something I definitely plan on working on. Poor Ed!

Cathy's mom put it best (in a comment on Laura's blog) when she said of parenting: "It is a hard, hard thing to raise the little love-bugs. Then you see them sound asleep, recharging their little batteries as it were, and you get that awesome goodmorning smile, and start rolling that big rock up that hill yet again." Rolling that big rock up that hill yet again--that's it exactly. And the crazy thing is, you take pleasure in doing so.

Playing Hooky

Ed and I played hooky today. It was wonderful, and I highly recommend that every couple do this at least once or twice a year. We dropped William off at daycare, went out to breakfast, shopped for washers and dryers, carpets, and furniture, and then went home and took a nap. Then we picked up William a little early and had time to go to the big playground. William had a great time, although he spit up all over a truck, and I was unprepared and didn't have any wipes on me, so I had to borrow one from a dad who was nearby. Kind of gross.

Anyway, it was so nice to spend the day with Ed and remember what it was like before we had William. I would never want to go back to those days, but getting a taste of it every now and then is a very good thing. People always say that it's important for new parents to have date nights, or outings alone, and I've kind of paid it lip service over the past year, but I think I'll be more proactive about it from now on. It's hard because as a working parent--I don't want to spend any more time away from William than I have to. And after he goes to bed, I'm too tired to want to do anything. But it's really important. Parenting really changes the couple dynamic, and it's very easy to just get caught up in the baby and let the spouse come second. So now that we've figured out the baby thing (for the most part), it's couple time!

The only other thing to report is that we encountered one of those obnoxious kids at the playground that you can't help passing judgment on his parents. He was the size of a 5 year old, still wore a diaper, and was sucking on an infant-size pacifier. He was also running around kicking sand at kids and he knocked one kid down. At one point he came over near William and started to kick sand toward William, so I told him to stop and asked him where his parents were. I couldn't scope out who his caretaker might be, and there was no one telling him to stop. Geeze. I can forgive the diapers and pacifier--maybe he was developmentally delayed or something. But who the hell lets their kid act like that around other kids and parents?

Anyway, back to work tomorrow.

Weekend Report

I couldn't come up with a more creative post topic this morning, so I'll stick with the tried and true. Even though the weekend report isn't all that interesting. We got into the new house again so we could take some measurements and I got to think a little more about where furniture and kitchen items will go. The one thing I'm bummed about in the kitchen is that there isn't a narrow vertical shelf to put cookie sheets and trays on their sides. That's too bad. I hate having to nest cookies sheets and cake pans and muffin tins. But there is more cabinet space overall than my current kitchen, so maybe it will be okay.

I will be needing a few more gates. I need two for the top of stairways (one for the basement stairs and one for the regular staircase), and one extra long one for the family room, and one more to block off the living room and dining room. And I'm still trying to figure out what furniture we want/need and where to put everything. We also need a washer/dryer, so we're debating on whether or not to buy a 2-year-old mac daddy set from friends, or if we should buy a new set, that's not so mac daddy, but at least we'd have a warranty. Decisions decisions.

Saturday morning was our second swim class, and I have to say, I'm a little disappointed with the whole thing. I envisioned squeals of delight and playful splashing. Instead, the water is on the cold side, so William spends the whole time shivering and clinging to me and staring at all the other people in the pool. I'm trying to work on him floating on his back, but it's not a great sensation for him. And I dunked him under once, and while he didn't scream or cry, he didn't really seem to enjoy that much either. He did enjoy holding onto the side, though, and splashing a little. Anyway,On Sunday, we went to my cousin's house to celebrate William's birthday with her family (her boys are 12 and 8 and they love William). William had taken a super long nap before going (almost 3 hours!), so he was in a great mood while we were there. He spent a long time playing outside in one of those Fred Flintstone-type cars. I'll be scouring Craig's List for one of those--that's for sure. And we had forgotten his portable high chair, but we just sat him in his stroller with the tray and he ate off of that with no problem. They even had an ice cream cake for him. Ed gave him a bite, which he ate, but he didn't want more. I guess that's a good thing!

So, that's our news. I was hoping I would participate in Menu-Plan Monday this week, but I only got it about halfway together. So to make myself feel better, I'll include this recipe for grilled chicken that we made on Saturday evening. It was really good, and we'll be having leftovers tonight. (I skipped the pounding out part, though. Too messy and too much work. They still tasted great, though!)

Lemon and Oregano-Rubbed Chicken Paillards


Chicken breasts are pounded thin with a meat mallet or rolling pin to create paillards; the increased surface allows you to use even more of the flavorful rub.


4 (6-ounce) skinless, boneless chicken breast halves
5 teaspoons grated lemon rind
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 1/2 teaspoons dried oregano
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon water
2 garlic cloves, minced
Cooking spray
4 lemon wedges
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley

Prepare grill.

Place each chicken breast half between 2 sheets of heavy-duty plastic wrap, and pound to 1/4-inch thickness using a meat mallet or rolling pin.

Combine lemon rind and next 6 ingredients (through minced garlic); rub evenly over both sides of chicken. Place chicken on a grill rack coated with cooking spray, and grill 3 minutes on each side or until chicken is done. Remove from heat. Squeeze 1 lemon wedge evenly over each chicken breast half. Sprinkle parsley evenly over chicken.

Yield: 4 servings (serving size: 1 chicken breast half)

CALORIES 226 (22% from fat); FAT 5.6g (sat 1g,mono 3g,poly 0.8g); PROTEIN 39.6g; CHOLESTEROL 99mg; CALCIUM 38mg; SODIUM 465mg; FIBER 0.7g; IRON 1.8mg; CARBOHYDRATE 2.2g

Cooking Light, JULY 2004

Friday Guest Blog--"How to Handle 'The Return'"

I'm sticking with my Friday theme of featuring guest blogs. This is actually an article from the Washington Post (so again, I'm sure I'm violating copyright laws, but fortunately, my audience is minuscule) by Amy Joyce. Much of what she said really resonates with me, so I wanted to capture her thoughts. I don't necessarily have the choice not to work at this point in our lives, but I sometimes wonder if we should be making other choices, like moving somewhere with a lower cost of living, or if I should consider a different job. I go over these arguments over and over in my head, and for now, staying put wins. Anyway, she articulates some of my angst very well.

How to Handle 'The Return'

By Amy Joyce

Sunday, May 13, 2007; Page B01

Today is Mother's Day, but my big day isn't until June 19. If all goes well, I'll hold our firstborn, a baby boy, in my arms around then. Meanwhile, my career will go on hold for six months and possibly change forever -- depending on how I handle The Return.

Which, of course, is the question that looms for every working woman who stands on the threshold between the cubicle and the crib. To stay at home or return to the job? To return to the old job or consider a new one? And how, while pondering the pros and cons of a pacifier-free home, not to spend more time brooding that the old job might be filled by a baby-free hotshot?

This step into parenthood (which I share with my husband, an editor at The Washington Post) is something I've expected for most of my life. I've always known that I wanted children, but I've also always known that I wanted to work. I'm looking forward to a generous leave, yet I'm worried about what I'll do when I come back.

Because I will come back to work. Definitely.

Um, right?

I've spent the past five-plus years writing the "Life at Work" column in the Business section of The Post. Every Tuesday, I host a Web chat about people's lives on the job. Many of the questions I receive go something like this: I'm pregnant, and that's all anyone at work wants to talk to me about. I fear I've just become the "pregnant lady." How do I make the conversation about the job instead? How do I ask my employer about a flexible schedule without looking like I don't care about work? If I take a part-time position, will I still be considered a contender? The salary my nonprofit pays me is less than my nanny's salary; does that mean it's time to give up and stay at home?

Pah. These simple questions. I know enough about equal-employment laws to say what employers can and cannot do. After that, it's all common sense: Steer the subject away from babies. Make them remember why you get a paycheck. A flexible schedule doesn't necessarily mean you'll work less. Part-time work is still a career. If work is important to you, figure out how to do what you want. Easy.

But now I suddenly want to know: Where's my career-advice columnist?

So many people tell me things will change after the baby is born. And I know I don't really get it yet. I don't get what they're feeling when they describe an intense nostalgia as they give me the Gymini play mat their child has outgrown. I can't fathom the tug they say almost made them quit their jobs at the end of their maternity leaves. And I can't understand completely what it must feel like to want to rush home when there's always another story to work on.

The truth is, at 33, I can't imagine life without a career. I think I'll be a better mother because I have a job, showing my son that women can be mothers and workers, good cooks and great policymakers, football tossers and reporters.

And yet, as sure as I am of these things, I'm equally unsure about what to do. Which kind of surprises me.

People started asking me questions early. Not about what name we might choose or what diapers we'll buy; instead, they want to know how much time I'll take off from work, whether I'll come back, and, if so, whether I'll come back to the same job. I stutter and stumble in response. I couldn't even tell my boss recently whether I'll leave on my due date or work until the contractions start. Part of me is drawn to the idea of going home and trying this "nesting" thing I've been told since my second trimester I'd want to do. (Still waiting.) Another part of me doesn't want to go on leave so early that I'm sitting at home, staring at the diapers we've stocked, wondering if our child will be an "up to 10 pounds" or a "10 to 14 pounds" when I could be squeezing in just . . . one . . . more . . . column.

The whatever-you-want strategy I've advised so many women to focus on suddenly seems incredibly, overwhelmingly unclear.

And I might know why: Maybe I know too much.

I know what I hear from the countless women who contact me. And I know scary things like this: According to a 2005 study by the Center for Work-Life Policy, only 74 percent of women who take time off to raise children are able to find work later, and only 40 percent return to full-time professional jobs. But what do they come back to? Sure, by law an equal position has to remain open to them, but not necessarily the job they had before.

So not only is my world going to turn upside down because of a new family member I've created, but my job world is likely to change, too. Will this baby mean the end of my other "baby," the column? Will it mean moving on from a topic that I live, breathe and read about so much that it is my life? On the other hand, is this my chance to do something different? If I do try something new, will I regret making the change? On top of such a big life change?

(Gasp, pant.) And women say labor is tough.

I have the same concerns that many women with children do -- we may have more choices than our mothers did, but the onus still falls mostly on the mom to figure out what changes to make. And for those who want or need to work, the choices aren't always promising.

This pregnancy has given me a pass to a wonderful across-all-barriers club. The mother-security guards, cafeteria workers, janitors and editors at my workplace have all commented, questioned, applauded and advised. I know that many of them had more difficult decisions than I to make -- as single moms earning minimum wage with unpaid maternity leave, for instance.

On a recent crowded bus ride home, the driver yelled: "I know someone's getting up for the pregnant lady!" The first person to stand up was the woman who stands all day making sandwiches in the Post cafeteria. I knew she knew what it was like to work all day carrying 35 pounds more than just months before, worrying all the while about the job and child care. I didn't take her seat. I grabbed the one from the guy reading the Economist. He could bear to stand for a while.

Our archaic laws make it difficult for women to be workers, mothers and providers. Sure, the Family and Medical Leave Act of 1993 allows up to 12 weeks of leave to care for a newborn or newly adopted child (or for other medical or family emergencies). But it is unpaid leave, only companies with 50 or more employees need to adhere to it, and only employees who have worked at these companies for at least 12 months can use it. Meanwhile, nearly half of all workers in the private sector have no paid sick leave.

All of which makes The Return a major trauma for many new mothers. A friend said that when she was deciding what to do after her maternity leave, she had one criterion: The job would have to thrill her. Otherwise, it wouldn't be worth leaving her daughter. Another, who worked for a hot technology company for more than a decade, never loved her job. Last year, after months of worrying, questioning and budgeting, she decided to stay home with her baby. I remember hanging up after talking to her and thinking, "This is it: my first stay-at-home-mom friend." I think it was almost as momentous for me as it was for her.

Still, I do appreciate that we even have these choices. My mother became an art teacher, though she wanted to be an architect, because that's what women did in the 1960s. And when she became pregnant, she left work for years, returning only when I was old enough to get off the bus by myself.

I come, in fact, from a family of mothers who stayed home. My aunt often asks if I'll ever move back to the Pittsburgh area, where most of my big, loving family lives. I once told her it probably wouldn't happen and was about to explain that Steven and I wouldn't have many job options there. But before I got that out, she knowingly shook her head: "That makes sense. Steven has a good job in D.C."

Grrrr. It's that way of seeing the world, I thought, that will always send me back to work after I have children.

But then I think about the aunt who raised seven kids and is now helping raise their children. And my mother and other aunts. They all stayed home, and they did a mind-bogglingly great job. (See also: my big, loving family.) Did we all turn out this well because our moms didn't work until we could fend for ourselves?

I tell myself that's not the case. Children have more home time with both parents now. The percentage of women ages 25 to 54 who cite "home responsibilities" as their reason for not seeking a job has been shrinking for more than a decade. Meanwhile, the number of men citing that reason has edged up, according to the Labor Department. I know that Steven and I share equally (if not leaning more on him) in the home-responsibilities department. And he is one of those guys who could probably -- and more than willingly -- make being a stay-at-home dad work.

I think what I've learned during these past nine months or so is that no matter what I decide, I'll have to tell myself it's the right choice for me. But I'll always wonder if there's another way to do it.

So for now, like the many women I chat with each week, I'll make my choices, I'll question them, I'll love this kid with a love I assume I haven't felt before.

And then I'll march off to work with the other commuters, hoping that I'm handling The Return the right way.

I Have the Most Inconsistent Child in the Whole World

I have said this since William's earliest days, but seriously--he is the most inconsistent baby ever. No two nights have ever been the same with him. In the early days, I would painstakingly try to recreate the exact sequence of events that may have led to a longer-than-ever-before stretch of sleep, only to have him follow a good night with a terrible night. There's no pattern, no indicators, no steady progression. Yes--over the past year, his sleep has improved. He's now waking up only one or two times a night instead of 4 or 5. But for the love of G-d, why is every night different? Why does he wake up at a different time every single day? Yesterday it was 7:15 a.m. Today was 6:00 a.m. Why does he wake up at 2:30 some nights, and not until 5:00 another night? Our evening routine is the same every single night, give or take 15 minutes.

BTW--those are all rhetorical questions and I'm not really looking for answers. I just want to be one of those parents whose kids just start sleeping through the night without them having done anything to encourage it. Why can't I be one of those parents????? It seems like it's so tantalizingly close now. I hate to put us through the hell of CIO if we don't have to. Waaaahhhh!

On a brighter note, despite the angst he gives me over his sleeping and eating habits, William is walking a ton now and is cuter than ever. He's started acting silly and shy around other people. If I'm holding him around other people, (in the elevator, for example) he'll smile and bury his face in my shoulder, and then he'll start screeching or pointing or he'll shake his head back and forth. He's also so much more cuddly these days. When I pick him up, especially after not having seen him for a while, he'll rest his head on my shoulder and it's so sweet. When I get him out of his car seat in the morning before going into daycare, he does it then, too, as if to say, "Give me just a few more minutes with you, mom." I know the coming year will be challenging, but this is such a wonderful age. You can just see the wheels spinning in his brain, and you can see how much he understands. And we're really starting to communicate now. It's so cool. He's this little person now. Wow.

Why I Shouldn't Try So Hard

Now that we've gotten through the First Birthday, the Party, and Mother's Day, I've been trying to refocus my efforts on getting organized and staying organized. (And really, it's the staying organized that kills me. I can spend two hours cleaning out my inbox, or making one week's worth of menus, but making a habit of doing those things seems to go against the grain.) With our closing and move to the new house pending, I want to get prepared and not leave everything until the last minute. Also, our pediatrician said that we should eat together as a family as often as possible, which made me feel guilty about my inability to get dinner on the table before 8:00. (In my defense, Ed rarely gets home before 6:30, and it's virtually impossible to prepare dinner for all of us by 6:30 when we don't get home until 5:15 at the earliest, and spend time playing with William, which I think is more important anyway.) SOoooo, it makes sense that a lot of pre-planning and prep work is the only way that this will happen. (Until I get really good at things, for now Ed and I will just eat some kind of appetizer while William is eating, but eventually, when we have more kids, it would me nice for all of us to eat the same dinner. So that's what I'm shooting for.)

So last night, (here's some boring logistics for you--but this is a blog to capture my life, and the following is my life!) we got home from work at 5:15, we played with a few of William's new toys, I changed my clothes, we went outside and watched a front loader at work for a little while (they're tearing up our street right now to lay new pipes, and the neighborhood kids are LOVING it!), and then went to the playground and played for about half an hour. We didn't get home until 6:00, at which point I made some mac 'n' cheese, chicken nuggets, and peas for William. At 6:30, we sat down to eat, and Ed got home and sat down with us. Ed and I nibbled while William ate, and after dinner, Ed gave William his bath while I cleaned up and got dinner ready for Ed and me. I gave William his bottle and put him in bed while Ed grilled the pork chops. We ate dinner at 8:00, and after Ed cleaned up, I cleaned bottles, made tomorrow's bottles, and prepared a pork roast for the crock pot for tonight's dinner. (This is where the planning ahead part comes in.) I finally crawled into bed after 10:00 p.m. (which is why I didn't blog last night), tired, but feeling pleased that I had managed to be on top of today's meal.

Well, so much for planning. This morning I managed to get the roast in the crock pot and pour the sauce on top, but I forgot the most important part--to turn the crock pot on. So when we get home, we will have a lovely raw pork roast that will have to be thrown out. That just sucks. This in a nutshell is my problem. I make a list--but forget things to put on the list. I remember everything to add my list, but when I get to the store, I realize I've forgotten my list. I write things down on my calendar, but never remember to actually LOOK at my calendar. I buy cards, but never manage to get them out of the spiral organizer when I need them. I get a card, write my note, seal it up, and then it sits around because I can't find the address and keep forgetting to call someone to get it. I get a card, write the note, seal it up, address it, and then I keep forgetting to buy stamps. It goes on and on and on.

So that's why I shouldn't try so hard. Or maybe that's why I need to have several sessions of hypnotherapy. Can hypnotherapy make less forgetful? More focused? Can it make you stick to your OHIO (only handle it once) plan? Can it make you start doing something with your e-mails (either delete, or move to folders, or print for your files) rather than just leaving them there so that when your computer flashes a warning that your inbox is too full and your computer will explode if you don't do something RIGHT NOW, you have to spend the next two days sorting your inbox?

And, instead of moving forward and sorting my inbox, I'm blogging about sorting my inbox. Maybe that's my problem! Anyway, baby steps, right? I'm almost 35 years old, and have been like this my whole life. I'm not going to suddenly be able to manage everything starting tomorrow! So maybe for now, I'll just continue to focus on trying to be organized about meal planning. In the meantime, when you don't get a card or phone call from me, don't hate me or think that I'm selfish or thoughtless. I'm just disorganized! :-)

Birthday Pictures

I'm still trying to recover from the weekend, but wanted to check in and post some pictures of William on his birthday.

Ed took him to his one-year appointment today and everything looked good. He weighs 19 lbs, 13 oz., and he's 29 inches tall. (That's 10th percentile and 25th percentile respectively.) He had to have two shots and he got blood drawn. Ed said he cried for 5 minutes. Poor guy! He was fine by the time I got home from work, though, so I was relieved. Here are the pictures. (Warning--I'm post A LOT of pictures!)

Here is on the morning of his birthday. He must have been pretty excited about the day because he woke up at 5:45 raring to go!


(Note the hair in this one! It's coming in, slowly but surely!)


Because he woke up so early, he was done by 10:30. He fell asleep at the breakfast table!


Here's his cake. We went with a puppy theme for his birthday, since he loves dogs and his only "words" so far are, "Woo-woo-woo." I made the cake and cupcakes and am quite pleased with how they turned out!


Here he is as we all sing "Happy Birthday." At first he was slightly bewildered, but then he got into it and clapped when we finished. What a ham!


Now he gets to dig into his chocolate cupcake. Mommy was smart and made sure he wasn't hungry when he got his cake. He mostly played with it and really only ate a bite. Once he got chocolate cake in his eyes, though, it was time to clean up.



He had a great day and didn't crash until 7:40 that night. It was a great party and a wonderful Mother's Day!

William's Birth Story

First of all, I'm sooooo excited that one of my very best friends had her baby today, on William's birthday!!! She wasn't due until May 26, so I think it's pretty cool that she decided to honor her mom early by making her appearance on Mother's Day. Congratulations MJ and LJ! (Not that I think they're reading my blog on the day they had their baby!) Anyway, I can't wait to hear from MJ all the details of her delivery. Here are mine!

On Thursday, May 11, 2006, I think I felt my first contraction at around 9:00 p.m. It wasn't very painful, but definitely different. More uncomfortable than anything. We went to bed as normal, and then around 3:00 a.m., I woke up to another contraction. This one was a little stronger, and between 3:00 a.m. and 6:00 a.m., I had a few more, which led us to believe that I was in labor. They were still pretty far apart though, but we both called into work and I took a shower and made sure everything was ready to go to the hospital. And then we waited. By 9:00 a.m., the contractions had all but stopped. I don't really remember what we did that morning. Maybe I went back to sleep or watched T.V. So that was Friday, May 12.

I might have had a few contractions during the morning, but again, they weren't terribly painful. For lunch, Ed and I walked to McDonald's. I remember having a contraction in McDonald's. They were starting to hurt, and I was kind of doubled over at the counter, trying to breathe through the contraction. But then it was over and we ate and went home.

The rest of the day was a blur. I don't remember what I had for dinner. It was either that night or the night before, I made Ed go out and buy Jello, and I ate tomato soup, a grilled cheese sandwich, and Jell0. At any rate, finally around 7:30 or 8:00 p.m., the contractions started coming closer together, and they hurt, so when they got about 5 minutes apart, we got in the car and headed for the hospital. It was around 10:00 p.m. when we got there, so we were checked in, and I was about 3 cm dilated, and I don't remember what percentage I was effaced, but the doctor asked if I was going to try to go natural, or if I wanted an epidural. The contractions hurt like a bitch, frankly, so it was not too difficult for me to decide to get an epidural. So the doctor said no point in beating around the bush, let's get you set up and get you your epidural.

So they took me to a room and got me all hooked up. I was shivering and my teeth wouldn't stop chattering and the contractions hurt soooo bad. When the anesthesiologist came to give me the epidural, I was a little nervous because I had heard that they hurt. But I sat sideways on the bed, with my legs hanging over the side, and I leaned forward holding on to a pillow, and I hardly felt anything. It was so much less painful than the contractions, and that position was actually comfortable. But as soon as I got the epidural and got situated in the bed again, I felt awesome. It was such a relief. That was around midnight, maybe 12:30 (on Saturday, May 13). So then Ed and I just dozed for the next several hours. The nurse would come in and check on me, but it was very quiet and I think I managed to fall asleep.

Around 3:00 a.m., I was fully dilated, and the nurse said I was starting to crown. Also, a couple of times the baby's heart rate had dropped, so they put me on oxygen. So they paged the doctor, who took a while to show up, so it was a good thing I had the epidural, or the nurse said I probably would have already felt the need to push. But anyway, the doctor finally came and I started pushing. Pushing was hard, and I pushed for a long time--definitely more than an hour. Finally, the doctor said he was going to do a very small episiotomy. I didn't want him to, but he said if he made the cut, William would come right out. So I said fine, whatever. So he did, and I pushed one more time, and I could literally feel William slide out of me. (Sorry if that's TMI.) The doctor said, "It's a boy" and we could hear him cry and they put a blanket around him and put him on my chest. That was at 4:55 a.m. It was so amazing, and Ed had been awesome the whole time--just being beside me, not saying too much, but just the right things, feeling just as amazed and incredible as I did. He cut the cord and after they cleaned William up and weighed him and did all the stuff they do, Ed and I got to hold him. He had his eyes open and was so sweet. He had a slight temperature, so the nurses were a little concerned. But he was fine after a little while.

So that's how William came into this world. I can't believe my baby is one year old! So here is, just a few minutes old:


Tomorrow, I'll upload the pictures of him from today. I'm too tired now and have to go to work tomorrow. But I wanted to at least get the birth story written down. That time seems so long ago, and yet it seems like it was yesterday.

Can't wait to give the update on William's first birthday party! So stay tuned!

Seven Little-known Facts About Me

I got tagged by Laura to come up with 7 little-known facts about myself. This is pretty hard because I'm a pretty transparent person. There isn't a whole lot that people don't know about me. But I'll try.

1. In high school and college I was obsessed with romance novels about cowboys. I still am, but I just don't have the time to indulge that passion anymore. You might be surprised to learn that there is actually a whole genre of romance that centers on cowboys, cowgirls, and ranches. I even started writing my own novel one summer. At any rate, a guilty pleasure, for sure!

2. I kept score for my high school and college baseball teams and was also really into professional baseball. I actually used to sit and watch games on T.V. I knew all of Chris Berman's nicknames for players (like Bert "Be home" Blyleven, Jose "Can you See" Canseco, Glenn "Mother" Hubbard, Tony Gwynn "and bear it"--you get the picture). And I got pretty good at identifying pitches. I could even play the name game with baseball players. (You know the game--you say a player's name, and the next person has to say another player whose first name starts with the first letter of your player's last name. So if I say Jose Canseco, you could say Cecil Fielder, and then I'd say Frank Robinson, and so on.)

3. If I could have any cosmetic procedure, I'd get a mouth makeover. I had a crank in high school and braces until college, but my teeth got completely crooked again when my wisdom teeth came in. I'd even do braces again. It's just not high in our budget priorities.

4. I have never lived by myself. Well, I take that back--during college, I was an RA, so I had my own room. But does college really count as "living by yourself"?

5. I tend to memorize words to songs, and not just the words, but the exact inflections of the singers, the pauses, the harmonies, the whole works. This is especially true for Disney songs. Although after Pocahontas, I didn't keep up with Disney so much anymore. I expect this will change in the not-too-distant future. This is also true for Indigo Girls songs.

6. I was a Barbie fanatic until I was 12 or 13 years old. (I'm going to go with 12 here. It makes me sound less pathetic!)

7. I spend way too much time at work goofing off on the Internet. I've been really bad since coming back to work after maternity leave. I wish I could say that being a mom has made me even more focused and productive, but nothing could be further from the truth. On how my priorities are ranked these days, I would list William first, Ed second, me third, and work last. Oh well. I guess like everything, it ebbs and flows.

So that's it. That's me! I'm tagging LJ and MJ. But MJ will be having a baby in the next 2 weeks, so if you guys don't get around to it, no worries!

I've planned two posts for this weekend that I'm now thinking I might not get a chance to write until Monday or Tuesday, since this weekend will be so crazy. The first is our birth story, and the second is my letter to William on his first birthday. It's probably a fitting testament to me that I wouldn't actually get around to writing those posts until after their anniversaries! Oh well. That's me in a nutshell!

Things I Do Miss

As promised, here are some things I miss from William's early days.

First, I miss breastfeeding. Not the pain, of course, but the connectedness. There's a sense of contentment and love that makes the whole experience so very worth it. I loved it when he would explore with his free hand and arm, grabbing my shirt, reaching for my face, rubbing my arm. Or when he'd stop nursing for a moment, look up at me and give me an ear-to-ear grin. It actually makes me look forward to nursing baby number 2.

Second, I miss William sleeping on my chest. (Ironic, huh, since this is also something I don't miss!) Since he outgrew that phase, he has never been one to sleep comfortably in my arms or anywhere near me, for that matter. The only time he has slept in our bed is when he was sick with Roseola. Every once in a while, he's sleepy enough to lay his head on my shoulder, but never for long.

Third, I miss his littleness. He's getting so big. I miss being able to carry him in the Baby Bjorn, and I miss my arm not getting tired after holding him for only a few minutes. I miss how he used to slide down in his bathtub so that the water came up above his ears.

Fourth, I miss his army crawl. It was so cute and I don't even know if I ever caught it on video. Bad mommy!

I can't think of anymore right now. In thinking about the things I miss now, it got me thinking about things he does now that I might miss in the future. It reminds me to savor every bit of him because every day brings new changes. He's so much fun. I think I can declare that he's officially "walking" now, although he still crawls about half the time. It's amazing to watch him get steadier and steadier on his feet every day.

I'm too tired to write more. But I just want to say that it has been a crazy, wonderful, sometimes overwhelming, but absolutely amazing year.

Things I Don't Miss

Looking back over the past year, there are definitely a few things that I don't miss from William's early days.

First, I don't miss the pain and trauma of those first 8 weeks of breastfeeding. The sheer agony of the first 10 seconds or so when William would latch on is not a feeling I would wish on anyone. And the constant worry that we weren't doing it right, that William wasn't getting enough to eat, that he was always falling asleep--let's just say I'm glad I've left those days behind.

Second, I don't miss the feeling of hopelessness and desperation that I felt for those first 7 weeks or so when William wouldn't sleep anywhere but lying on someone's chest. I would try to gently lay him down in his bassinet or crib or car seat or even on the bed and the longest he'd ever stay asleep was about 10 minutes.

Third, I don't miss waking up 3, 4, or 5 times a night to nurse William back to sleep. And I really don't miss how long it took to get him to go to sleep in the first place. When he first started sleeping in his crib, he'd fall asleep nursing and I had to wait for about 20 minutes before I could move him to his crib. And if he woke up, I had to start all over again. Some nights it would take two hours before I could leave his room.

Fourth, I don't miss feeling so inept and alone, and constantly wondering how I should do things differently. I think it's an inevitable feeling for new moms, even when you know that other moms experience the exact same thing. It's just so hard to not think that other moms have it figured out and that other moms are handling things much better than you are.

Now don't get me wrong--I still feel uncertain about my performance as a mother. I always wonder if I'm doing things right or handling things right. But experience has taught me that you figure it out as you go along, and trusting your instincts is half the battle. And I've also learned to accept the kind of mother I am. For example, I thought I'd be morel laid back when William fussed or cried, but it turns out that nothing causes me more stress than hearing him cry. (I think this is probably true for most moms, but I always felt like other moms handled it better than I did.) So my priority was always to get him to stop crying. (I wonder if I'll be the same when baby #2 comes along. I doubt I'll be as "available" as I was for William.) I took a little heat for that from family and friends (who probably thought I shouldn't worry so much about him crying, or I should let other people try to soothe him). But the point is, that is how I'm wired, it's my natural instinct, and I had to do what felt right. Of course, that doesn't mean there isn't room to take advice from others, or to seek help from professionals. But finding that balance is key. And I think that's the hardest part of parenthood.

So that's my list of things I don't miss--the hardest stuff. I think tomorrow, I'll make my list of things I will miss. That will be hard to do without crying, so I'll keep a box of tissues close at hand. I used to think that I wasn't a very emotional or sentimental person, but that's yet another way that motherhood has changed me. (For the better, I hope!)

Labor of Love

Here's what I've been working on. Don't know if it will end up as a Mother's Day gift or not. And I might still make some changes. So consider this a draft. Make sure your sound is on if you want to hear the music, and just to warn you, it's almost 7 minutes long. Enjoy!

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Not Waxing Eloquence

I had wonderful intentions to spend this week reminiscing and waxing eloquent on what William's first year has meant to me and how I'm a different person (for the better, of course), and about William's wonderful and evolving personality, and all the things I miss and don't miss. And then I realized that William's birthday is Sunday. THIS SUNDAY. AND IT'S MOTHER'S DAY. AND WE'RE HAVING A PARTY ON MOTHER'S DAY. AND WE NEED TO FIGURE OUT GIFTS FOR MY MOM, ED'S MOM, AND ED'S GRANDMOTHER. AND OH YEAH--WHAT ABOUT A BIRTHDAY GIFT FOR WILLIAM? AND WHAT ABOUT SOME SMALL TOKEN OF APPRECIATION TO ALL THE MOMS WHO WILL BE AT WILLIAM'S PARTY?

Okay--deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. You can see why, maybe, blogging has taken a back seat this week. Did I also mention that our landlord is having an open house on Saturday since we're moving out, so we have to vacate the house all day, plus we have to get the house in "show" condition? Did I mention that I actually never got around to making invitations for William's first birthday party, so I've been calling people to invite them? How tacky is that. And no cute first birthday invitation for William's scrapbook. Did I also mention that Saturday is William's first "Mommy and Me" swim class? (I'm actually super excited about the swim class! But I need to figure out if I have to buy swim diapers.)

Anyway, I spent several hours last night working on a video montage of William's first year as a gift for the moms. But I don't know if we'll be able to get it in time for Mother's Day. (It will probably cost way more than we want to pay to get it here by Sunday.) We do have one gift for William, but there are a few small things I've been wanting to pick up for him. But I know the families will go overboard and there won't be a lack of new toys! And I did manage to get the party "supplies" and pick the theme (puppies!) and plan a "menu." So let's just hope everything will fall into place. And who will notice if it doesn't, right? I'm betting not William.

Soooo--that's my update. William is great--walking more and more each day. Actually, it's probably better that I can't focus on how quickly this year has flown by and how quickly our baby is growing up. Sometimes I feel relief that we got through the "hard part" with seemingly flying colors. But then I think ahead to tantrums and devious grins and time outs and all that we have in store, and I wonder how we'll ever get through the next year!

Weekend Report

We have had a very busy but very nice weekend. William decided to test out sleeping in for a change. So yesterday (Saturday), he slept until almost 7:30. (No, he didn't sleep through the night. He was up at 3:00 and got a 3-oz. bottle.) Of course, because God likes irony, I woke up at 6:40 and couldn't get back to sleep, as hard as I tried. And then this morning, if you can believe this, he slept until 8:30! He has never slept that late. And no--he didn't sleep all night. In fact, last night was really bad because he woke up at 11:30, 3:00, and then 5:45. And no--I didn't sleep in until 8:30 either. I woke up at 7:30 and managed to take a shower, blow dry my hair, and do a few odds and ends before he woke up.

As for weekend activities, on Saturday, we went to Ed's parents and William had a blast. He was so good, despite not getting an afternoon nap. We ended up staying for dinner, so he fell asleep on the way home and then went to sleep prettily easily again once we got home. Today, after our usual grocery shopping trip (he's actually fun to take to the grocery store these days), we went to Burke Lake Park with some friends who also have a May baby. It was a beautiful day, although a little chilly and windy, and William had fun pushing the stroller all over the place, crawling and cruising around the picnic tables, and examining every stick he came across. He also managed to take only one brief nap today, too, in the car on the way to the park. But it didn't seem to bother him.

He will be one in one week. It's crazy that a year has already gone by. Now we're heading into toddler territory and it's so bittersweet. I love this age--watching him learn and absorb and grow. But my baby is growing up! I'll probably spend some time this week reminiscing and reflecting on the past year. What a year! And man, am I tired!

Guest Blog: "On Being Mom" by Anna Quindlen

I'm sure I'm breaking all kinds of copyright laws by reprinting this article by Anna Quindlen, and I would gladly pay for it if I knew how, and you've probably already read this in an e-mail or on someone else's blog. But I wanted to capture it on my blog so that I would always remember it.

"On Being Mom" by Anna Quindlen

If not for the photographs, I might have a hard time believing they ever existed. The pensive infant with the swipe of dark bangs and the black-button eyes of a Raggedy Andy doll. The placid baby with the yellow ringlets and the high piping voice. The sturdy toddler with the lower lip that curled into an apostrophe above her chin.

All my babies are gone now. I say this not in sorrow but in disbelief. I take great satisfaction in what I have today: three almost-adults, two taller than I am, one closing in fast. Three people who read the same books I do and have learned not to be afraid of disagreeing with me in their opinion of them, who sometimes tell vulgar jokes that make me laugh until I choke and cry,
who need razor blades and shower gel and privacy, who want to keep their doors closed more than I like.

Who, miraculously, go to the bathroom, zip up their jackets and move food from plate to mouth all by themselves. Like the trick soap I bought for the bathroom with a rubber ducky at its center, the baby is buried deep within each, barely discernible except through the unreliable haze of the past.

Everything in all the books I once pored over is finished for me now. Penelope Leach, T. Berry Brazelton., Dr. Spock. The ones on sibling rivalry and sleeping through the night and early childhood education, all grown obsolete. Along with Goodnight Moon and Where the Wild Things Are, they are battered, spotted, well used. But I suspect that if you flipped the pages dust would rise like memories.

What those books taught me, finally, and what the women on the playground taught me, and the well-meaning relations--what they taught me was that they couldn't really teach me very much at all. Raising children is presented at first as a true-false test, then becomes multiple choice, until finally, far along, you realize that it is an endless essay. No one knows anything. One child responds well to positive reinforcement, another can be managed only with a stern voice and a timeout. One boy is toilet trained at 3, his brother at 2. When my first child was born, parents were told to put baby to bed on his belly so that he would not choke on his own spit-up. By the time my last arrived, babies were put down on their backs because of research on sudden infant death syndrome.

To a new parent this ever-shifting certainty is terrifying, and then soothing.Eventually you must learn to trust yourself. Eventually the research will follow.

I remember 15 years ago poring over one of Dr. Brazelton's wonderful books on child development, in which he describes three different sorts of infants: average, quiet, and active. I was looking for a sub-quiet codicil for an 18-month-old who did not walk. Was there something wrong with his fat little legs? Was there something wrong with his tiny little mind? Was he developmentally delayed, physically challenged? Was I insane? Last year he went to China. Next year he goes to college. He can talk just fine. He can walk, too.

Every part of raising children is humbling, too. Believe me, mistakes were made. They have all been enshrined in the Remember-When-Mom-Did Hall of Fame. The outbursts, the temper tantrums, the bad language, mine, not theirs. The times the baby fell off the bed. The times I arrived late for preschool pickup. The nightmare sleepover. The horrible summer camp. The day when the youngest came barreling out of the classroom with a 98 on her geography test, and I responded, What did you get wrong? (She insisted I include that.) The time I ordered food at the McDonald's drive-through speaker and then drove away without picking it up from the window. (They all insisted I include that.) I did not allow them to watch the Simpsons for the first two seasons...What was I thinking?

But the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three of them sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less.

Even today I'm not sure what worked and what didn't, what was me and what was simply life. When they were very small, I suppose I thought someday they would become who they were because of what I'd done. Now I suspect they simply grew into their true selves because they demanded in a thousand ways that I back off and let them be.

The books said to be relaxed and I was often tense, matter-of-fact and I was sometimes over the top. And look how it all turned out. I wound up with the three people I like best in the world, who have done more than anyone to excavate my essential humanity. That's what the books never told me. I was bound and determined to learn from the experts.

It just took me a while to figure out who the experts were.

He's Back!

I got my baby back. Whew! I guess I'm an okay mom after all. :-) His rash is mostly gone and he had a good day at daycare. He's still pitching fits a little more often than I'd like, but I think that has more to do with his age and his increasing attempts to assert some independence. It's actually pretty funny, and I need to catch one on video. In the meantime, I'm enjoying my curious, happy baby again.

Tonight I got some great pictures of him playing on our patio. His toy of choice for the evening, you ask? A flower pot full of dirt and a piece of PVC pipe. He spent 40 minutes sticking the pipe in the pot of dirt and taking it out, then sticking his hands in the pot and pulling out dirt. I had so much fun watching him. Here are some of the pictures. I posted a ton because I couldn't decide on just a few. Plus I haven't posted pictures in a while. (In the first picture, if you click on it and view the larger version, you'll notice the split lip and the scraped elbow. He split his lip at daycare today and scraped his elbow at some point over the weekend I think. He's all boy! That's for sure. ) Happy viewing!

Still Out of Sorts

William was cranky again today and I'm feeling so unsettled by it. He still has the rash, but a friend of mine (a cyber-friend from Babycenter.com) who has a May baby like me said that the exact same thing happened to her son this weekend. He was cranky, fussy, clingy, had a fever off and on, and then broke out in a rash. Her doctor said it was probably viral. But her son was back to his happy self today. Ed thinks William is teething and that's why he's so fussy. I just don't know. Last night he woke up twice, once at 11:45 and then at 4-something. Tonight he went to sleep without finishing his bottle.

This is the part of motherhood that sucks. When you can't make your baby feel better and you know something is wrong. When he's not happy, I start doubting myself. I start wondering if he's miserable because of something physical, or is he feeling insecure, afraid, anxious, abandoned. Leave it to me to overreact. But I can't help how I feel.

I can, however, feel grateful that so far, William has only experienced mild illness. I can celebrate the fact that his current grumpiness is an aberration and that his normal state is happy, curious, and content. And I can appreciate the help, sympathy, support, and commiseration that I get from other moms. And, of course, I can be glad that Ed is here to keep me sane and reassure me that William will be fine.