Mothers in Law can be like Herpes

I have one.  As many people do.  I think some people have mothers in law kind of like one has a large screen tv or a fancy car.  They're part of your life, but they're a nice part.  Others have mothers in law like one has herpes.  They're kind of intrusive...and rather bothersome, cropping up from time to time.  I have a mother in law that fits the latter description.

So, we went back to the Pacific Northwest for the holidays.  As NONE of Mr. Random's family had yet met little Wiggles...that was a big motivator.  Mr. Random was understandably a bit miffed at his family's lack of concern.  They all would exclaim how excited they were to meet the little guy...but none of them could be put out enough to actually come down to meet him.  Meanwhile, my family had come twice.  Just different strokes I guess.

Anyway, it had also been about 2 years since Mr. Random had been back and so we decided it was time and we'd celebrate the Thanksgiving holiday with a whirlwind tour through the state to visit as much family as possible.  Wiggles was a true champ through this crazy adventure.  And we wound up at Mr. Random's mother's house for the feast day.

And it was incredibly stressful and frustrating.  You see, first, MIL prefers a cold house.  And claims she can't afford to heat her over-sized house anyway.  Which may or may not be true.  But when I say cold, I mean cold.  She prefers to leave the thermostat at 55.  INSIDE the house.  55 degrees FAHRENHEIT.  That is cold folks. And very cold for a little baby from the southwest who previously had experience nothing colder than 60 degrees outside.  I was very worried about this, and said as much to Mr. Random, who is just as exasperated by his mother's antics as I am.  She conceded that she'd keep the house at 65 while we were there.  I was so grateful.  EXCEPT.  When we got there we found that she merely meant she'd do so during the day.  At night was a different story.  Because she had her heat set to TURN OFF at 10pm.  And not turn on again until 6am.  And guess what...the low the nights we were there were 2 degrees F and 12.  Um.  WHAT?  Yeah, we had to put Wiggles in bed with us.  He was FREEZING in his own little bed.  So I didn't sleep well because he wiggles in his sleep too and I worried a little I might crush him anyway.  So I was cranky.

Then...she doesn't wash her hands.  Ever.  Which...well, just grosses me out.  Because she cooks...and I have to eat this food knowing it was prepared by someone who did not wash their hands after using the bathroom. GAG.  Also...great, yes, please hold my baby with your germy, germy hands.  No problem.  Sigh.

But the food thing, gets worse.  Since Wiggles has such a delicate little stomach, my little reflux baby, I am still on a restricted diet.  We'd warned MIL about this and I told her that I might be able to eat more by the time we got there (we warned her a month in advance as she was cooking the feast) but told her dairy would almost certainly be out.  She responded that she couldn't believe dairy could be a problem because SHE ate such a wonderfully varied diet when she breastfed her kids and all of them were fine and the doctor told her it was because she ate such a good variety of things.  Blah blah blah.  Basically...I was a picky eater before and she found it offensive...and I think she thought this was a similar problem with me and my head.  She truly doesn't believe me when I say it effects little Wiggles.  So our first night there she made us "steaks" for dinner.  Steaks that had ham and swiss cheese hidden inside.  Did she warn me?  No.  She brought out the steaks with great flourish telling us how loved they are by this person and that that she made them for.  I cut into it and find the "white stuff" and ask what it is.  She tells me it's swiss cheese with a smile.  SERIOUSLY?  Oh that made me so mad.  She had just finished saying she had such a hard time coming up with a meal to make that I could eat with my restrictions and was so happy when she thought of this one.  What?  The one with SWISS CHEESE in it seemed to fit the no-dairy rule?  Ugh.  If she'd just told me that should couldn't make a meal without dairy, that would have been fine.  Or told me the steaks had cheese, also fine.  Because then I could just get my own food or whatever.  But instead it felt like a total set up.

Then, on our last morning, as we were getting ready to leave, we looked for her to see if she wanted to hold Wiggles for a bit while we packed as it was her last chance and every other place we'd been the people had been basically standing over us waiting for the chance to cuddle the little guy.  She was out shoveling snow.  Ever the martyr.  Whatever, her choice.  But it was kind of infuriating that instead of spending her last hour with her only grandson, she'd rather shovel snow so that she could complain about it later.  And she will.

I can tell you, I NEVER want to take a baby to her house again.  It was just too damn frustrating.  And cold.

Reflections on Pregnancy

I was realizing the other day that I do not miss being pregnant.  I really don't.  I know some women personally, and have read others I know less personally,who love being pregnant.  I am simply not one of them.

I am very glad to have gotten to experience pregnancy.  I fully realize not everyone gets to experience that miracle.  I also did find the whole experience fascinating and I did enjoy feeling the little guy move around.  I also am very happy to have the little guy that the pregnancy helped develop.

But...actually being pregnant...is just not my thing.  And maybe that's funny because I had a super smooth pregnancy with Wiggles.  No morning sickness to speak of.  A few bouts of nausea, but so few I can count them on one hand and they never were so bad as to induce vomiting.  Really a textbook pregnancy.  And yet...I'm so very, very glad to have my body almost all to myself again (also can't wait to get my boobies back...well, I realize I'll miss nursing because I like it...but I would very much like to be done with the breast pads, leaking, clogged ducts, and restricted diet.  Also, I sincerely hope they return to a more reasonable size!). 

I mean, in early pregnancy...I just started to get thicker, which for someone who is more concerned with her physical appearance than she probably ought to be, is a little frustrating.  But I knew it was for a good cause so I tried to embrace it.  It just made me feel a bit uncomfortable though.  Not physically uncomfortable; mentally uncomfortable.  Then, by the end I was physically uncomfortable.  And tired of being so unwieldy.  And not being able to lift things.  And annoyed by how out of breath just climbing stairs would make me (I was still exercising...it just was the extra blood and whatnot according to the doc).

So, while I'm very glad to have experienced it...I'm glad it's also not a permanent condition.  :)

Do you really though?

I've been looking up recipes to make yummy goods with some fresh pumpkin I got from a friend.  I just find it so amusing to read the comments at the bottom that start with "I love this recipe" and finish with all the changes they made (applesauce instead of oil, orange juice instead of water, added nutmeg, changed the walnuts to pecans, etc., etc., etc.).  Which recipe do they really love then?  Because after making all of those changes I'm not at all convinced their end result is the same as the base recipe.  And these comments are ubiquitous! Maybe I'm missing something...

Would You?

Since little Wiggles is on the extra fussy side I've been put on a super restricted diet.  I've been able to slowly start adding things back in to see how he takes it...but, once again, it's impossible to control all variables and be sure that it's my diet that caused the change.  For instance, I tried a bit of dairy this week...and he seemed fine the first day.  The second day.  Also fine.  I didn't eat any on the third day, but he was fussy that day.  Was it because of the 2 days of dairy?  Or was it because he got over tired from having his naps interrupted by noisy maintenance occurring during all of his naptimes?

At any rate, because of the restricted diet we haven't been buying as much milk.  Just haven't needed it.  But I went to make some tea this morning and thought...just a little, iddy, biddy splash would be okay.  Only to find that we were out.  Guess Mr. Random used the last of it yesterday...what I did see in the fridge though was a small bottle of breastmilk I had pumped the previous night.  And I'd be lying if I didn't admit my next thought was hmmmmm.....

Would you use breastmilk if you found you were out of cow's milk?  I couldn't decide if that was totally wrong or not...but thought also that the advantage would be that it shouldn't upset the little guy's tummy!  haha!  In the end I felt like it was too much like drinking one's own pee...I mean, you'd do it if you had to, but otherwise not.  And the tea doesn't have to have that little splash of milk.

Halfway

It's November already.  Where does the time go?  November means Thanksgiving of course, but it also means I'm halfway through my maternity leave.  I'm so grateful that I got to take the whole semester (even though it's been frustrating financially) so I don't want to complain too loudly.  But I do feel a little sad at the thought of leaving Wiggles in daycare.  And I'm sure the next 2 months will go by just as fast or faster than the last two.

Wiggles still isn't sleeping through the night exactly.  It depends on your definition.  Mostly, yes, he does sleep a minimum 5 hour stretch (though not last night).  And then after the long stretch sleeps for 2 more 2 hour naps before being ready for the day.  Which is pretty great.  Except for the timing.  We're still working on those daytime naps...and while those are all up in the air, when he goes down for the long stretch varies quite a bit...and often starts at 6pm.  Now...I'm just plain not ready to go to bed at 6pm.  For one thing, Mr. Random often isn't home until 7pm, and I would like to see him at least a tiny bit.  For another, I usually haven't had dinner yet.  So...while Wiggles is getting almost enough sleep for his age category...I surely am not.  But, baby steps...we're making progress!  And I hear many people throwing 3-4 months around as a magical age when things start to get a lot more regular.  *fingers crossed!*

Spitfire and Fury

Last night I had the opportunity to observe a friend's baby.  This baby was born right around the same time as Wiggles, but has a completely different temperament ("he only cries when he needs a diaper change!" and folks...by cry, they mean whimpers).  After observing this very mellow baby I came to the conclusion that my little Wiggler was born full of Spitfire and Fury.  And, while this has meant a lot of frustration and worry for the first 2 months, and we could all definitely use more sleep...I think I've come to love him all the more for it.