Separation Anxiety

I've read that separation anxiety peaks between 7-9 months.  Maybe the "peak" has happened and it's all downhill from here (in a good way).  I really hope that it doesn't get any worse than it was last Sunday (screaming, getting paged after 5 minutes, more screaming, no church for me).  For Connor, it seems to have started at around 5 months, which is really early, right?  I wonder what it is that makes some babies do ok with it and others not.  All there is to do is just ride out the storm, because unlike my immediate reaction on Sunday, I cannot wait for 2 or 3 years to go to church again.

On Cloth Diapering

I'm not a big "green" person.  It's not that I don't care about the environment, but I admit it has never been something I give a whole lot of thought to one way or another.  So when Derek and I made the decision to go the cloth diaper route, I nodded and smiled when people commented on how "good for the environment" our decision was, but really, it was all about the money.  The money we would save.

I'm a saver.  I've gotten a kick out of budgeting and saving since I bought my first 10 speed black/hot pink bike for $100 when I was ten years old.  The thought of saving hundreds and hundreds of dollars over the next few years by NOT having to buy diapers really got me excited.

So we ordered them--all 24 of them.  Connor has had almost 7 months worth of diaper changes so far.  And now I understand why disposable diapers were invented...so that mothers who have 50 million things to do during a day can have one less thing on her list of things to do.

I'm referring to standing over a toilet and hoping that the glob of poop plops right in so as to avoid having to use the mini shower sprayer, which inevitably sprays way more than the oozing poopey diaper.  Then there's the hand "rinsing" of the diaper before putting it in a special bin where all the used diapers go.  And of course, the washing, and then the second round of washing, and the hang drying, and finally, the assembly, which now takes exactly 10 minutes for 12 diapers.  And after it's all said and done and the diapers are put away, there's a new batch of 12 that are ready for the wash.

I should at least mention that for a list person who sometimes adds things to the list that were accomplished before the list was made JUST SO I can cross something off, the revolving chore of cloth diapers is very stretching.  My task won't be done until my child is potty-trained.  But this is slightly off topic.

So what is more important to me?  Saving money or spending a little more time washing cloth diapers?  Hands down, it's saving money.  I've been in the cloth diaper trenches for a while now, but my moments of disgust and dread are far fewer than my moments of delight at the money we're saving.  Yes, it's a little more work with no end in sight (well, if we potty train at 2 years, we have 1 year, 5 months, and 1 week left), but it's worth it to me.  I would encourage anyone who's thinking about cloth diapering to know exactly what you're getting yourself into, and then go for it!

Connor sporting his cloth diaper

Time Flies When You're Having Fun

Connor is almost 7 months old.  I can't believe it.  A year ago I was working, getting bigger by the minute, and researching products like strollers, cribs, and high chairs.  I would take walks twice a day on my breaks at work.  I always sang two songs to him: "Jesus Loves You" and "ABCs".  (By the way, his favorite song is The Itsy Bitsy Spider--how did that happen?)  I remember wondering if he could hear me.  I thought about what he would look like, what kind of personality he'd have, if he'd take after me or Derek more.  Now that little person is here and time is flying.

The first few months really did feel like time just slowed down.  Maybe it was the lack of sleep, the newness of everything, the infant who didn't smile or giggle or blow raspberries yet.  I loved almost every second of it, but I was a little anxious for him to get older.  Now I'm ready for him to stay this age.  I feel like 1st grade is right around the corner and then he'll be headed off to college and my little boy will be a grown-up.

A few months ago, I really didn't think that I'd be one of those moms who said, "Time is really flying.  He's growing up so fast."  I thought I'd be ready for one phase to end and another to begin.  I couldn't wait for the smile, the rolling over, the sitting.  Of course I still look forward to the next stages, but he'll never be 6.5 months old again.  It makes me want to go wake him up from his nap just so I can hold him and kiss his little cheeks.  I love when I remember to savor every moment.  I wish it happened more often.

Gotta love the off-centered, curly mohawk

Be Anxious About Nothing, Including Connor's Weight

I made a decision this morning.  I'm going to stop stressing out about Connor's weight.  This is a very big deal for me.

Ever since his 4 month appointment when we learned that he was in the 80th percentile for height and 10th percentile for weight, I basically freaked out thinking that I must have been starving my poor child and it was all my fault and he desperately needed to pack on the pounds.  I started him on rice cereal about an hour after that appointment ended.  My goal over the past 6 weeks has been to fatten him up.  It has all been in preparation for his 6 month appointment, which is next Monday.  At this appointment, all I've wanted is to hear the words "Wow! Your baby looks so chubby and healthy!"  More specifically, my goal has been that he doubles his birth weight.  14 pounds and 14 ounces.  I've weighed him almost daily to see how quickly we're inching our way there and if we'll reach it.

I sound like a crazy person!  I cannot be this mother.  It occurred to me this morning that my worries are probably not going to stop at his 6 month weight gain.  There will undoubtedly be plenty of opportunities to either worry about something or let it go.  And if I get into the habit of obsessing over things that are mostly out of my control, I will drive myself and our family crazy.

Unfortunately worrying comes naturally to me.  I worried and stressed about things before I had a child.  Now that I have a child and those things I worry about are directly tied to him, it has reached a whole new level.  I really need to make a conscious decision to stop dwelling on it when it creeps up, which is all the time.  Even just an hour ago, I was walking by the bathroom with Connor and I was very tempted to go in and weigh him (like I did yesterday and the day before that and the day before that).  I chose not to.  At least it's a start.

I truly believe that it doesn't need to be this way.  I shouldn't just resign myself to a lifetime of stress and anxiety as a mother.  This is an opportunity to choose not to be anxious, so I'm not going to be anxious.  If Connor hasn't doubled his birth weight by Monday, THAT IS OK.

I skinned a chicken

In my "about me" section or whatever that link is called, I mention the fact that I finally have my dream job.  I'm a stay-at-home mom.  I'm a homemaker.  I love it.  I go to bed at night thinking about meals I want to make and what I want to clean the next day and fun projects like cleaning out Connor's drawers and updating all our framed photos.  This job suits me.  (Oh, and a giggly, adorable 5 month old isn't bad, either).

Well, today I took my new job to a whole new level.  I skinned a chicken.

I'm willing to try almost anything if I can add a "crock pot favorite" to my recipe repertoire, so I had to do it!  I absolutely love my crock pot.  I don't know what it is about it.  Making dinner in the morning is just the coolest thing to me.  Smelling it all day long makes me feel so accomplished all day long.  A whole chicken in the crock pot?  That is too good to be true.

I've had a frozen whole chicken in my freezer for quite a while because I had no idea what to do with it.  I've never purchased, cooked, or handled a whole chicken before.  But all that is going to change now.  The thought of skinning it was definitely more disgusting than actually skinning it.  I can't say for sure how it will taste, but based on the smell, I think this slightly-gross, incredibly-easy method is going to be a keeper.

Am I a horrible mother?

I had no idea I'd have so many insecurities in this new role--mother.  Take today, for example.  I dropped Connor off at the church nursery, and about 20 minutes later I started to hear a very familiar cry.  I didn't get paged, but I teach Sunday School in the adjoining room, and I knew who the cry belonged to.  It was my fussy little boy.  I wanted to save the kind nursery workers from prolonged screaming in their ears, so I left my class (thank you co-teacher!) and greeted my little one, who was not all that excited to see me.  Maybe he's teething.  Maybe he was tired.  Maybe this is just an "off day."  Those are some of the things I tell myself so there can be a good and logical reason why he just cried and cried.

But then the "what-ifs" start flashing through my mind and I find myself swimming a big pool of insecurity.  What if my baby is just unusually moody and unpleasant?  What if everyone thinks I'm doing something wrong?  What if I am doing something wrong?  What if he'll be like this for the rest of his childhood?  What if I'm paged every Sunday?  What if he never makes any friends?  What if we can never go anywhere in public?  What if it's all my fault?  Oh my goodness.  I feel so silly, but these are my actual thoughts!  Now is when wise and experienced mothers giggle at my paranoia and assure me that Connor is normal, he just had a fussy day, and I'm not doing anything wrong.  But this is a blog and I only have 3 followers, so my chances of finding that kind of encouragement are slim.

So for now I'll just tell myself that all these ridiculous thoughts really are just insecurities and it does me no good to ponder them all day (which is easy to do, unfortunately).  These are truths I choose to cling to: Even at 5 months old, Connor is exactly who God made him to be.  God picked me to be his mother, and He'll provide what I need for that role.  God knows what He's doing.  We are blessed beyond measure to have such a precious boy in our lives, even during the fussy times.  Hopefully next Sunday goes better than today.

Why the weekly journals?

I have entered the world of blogs.  It's a little scary, I have to admit.  So far I only have one really long entry (the week-by-week of Connor's life).  I update it each week, although I think it's going to show up under "April" unless I can figure out how to do it differently.  More "posts" (I'm such a blogger) to come, but here it is for now.

Why the weekly journals?

I came across a blog several weeks ago, and the writer wrote a weekly update of her child's milestones, etc.  I have found it extremely helpful, mostly because this is pretty unchartered territory for me.  I spent my entire junior high and high school years baby-sitting, but I've never been on newborn duty (and now 4 month old duty) 24/7.  It's a very different experience when there aren't step by step instructions on the fridge and numbers to call when something goes wrong!

So I started writing my own weekly updates when Connor was about 6 weeks old.  It's fun for me to reflect on the week and capture it in writing, especially since I still haven't recovered from "pregnancy memory loss" (I hear it might never return!).  I enjoy going back and re-reading, even now when I'm only a little ways into it.  It will also help me when, Lord willing, we have baby #2 (or #3 or #4 hopefully!) and I will surely have no recollection of what to expect and when to expect it.  I thought it would also be fun for family who aren't so close by to have an "insider's look" at Connor's young life.