Entries about baby

Today I had a real mom moment...one unlike any I have had in recent weeks, a total lapse of concentration. I set up a play date reunion in Seattle for one week before I got there. Everyone was there to see us today, and we don't arrive in Seattle until NEXT Friday. Oops. Apparently I cannot be trusted with planning, which is why I have officially passed over all confirmations of airline reservations, car rentals and the like to my husband, who although he doesn't get much more sleep than I do,apparently is more evolutionarily capable of handling it.

I was giving myself such a hard time over this mishap today...
until I realized, hello, I have so many things to juggle: work, family, groceries, food, writings, schedules, money, house, projects...

I find myself making a list, checking everything twice. I was actually feeling pretty good about keeping it all together until my husband reminded me of my OTHER worst mom moment, which came this week. We were rushing from Tahoe down to Reno to bring our son to the Children's Discovery Museum there. It is a great museum, full of art, education, nature, science, discoveries! So Bodhi climbs back into his seat, gets his video player, and his snacks I packed, and off we go. Several miles down the road I look back to discover that he was never snapped into his car seat. Instead of panicking, I lean back from the passenger seat and snap and tighten him into his seat. I can't believe I forgot. Even more surprising was that I took it in stride. Oops, my mistake. I recalled the only other time I did not strap him into his car seat. He was about 3 months old then, and we were on our way to my mommy's group (yes, the very same as above for mommy mistake #1) He was asleep, so I strapped him in but didn't tighten him completely. I was waiting until I turned on the car, to keep him asleep, but then I forgot. I noticed about three blocks from our house on a neighborhood road, and quickly pulled over, tightened him up, and sobbed for ten minutes. I couldn't believe I could forget something so essential. For someone so precious.

It seems as our babies grow up, we become a little more relaxed about making mistakes, and give them a bit more room to explore. I have been talking with my good friend Amy who just had a little girl, three weeks old today. I remember those first weeks, wanting to protect them from everything, Not wanting them out of your sight. Every peep was attended to, every second you want to be by their side. As Bodhi has grown, I find I take a step back. At first, I followed him as he crawled and climbed on the playground. Now I watch from a bit further away. I let him work things out, pick things up, try things on his own. But it's been a slow and steady process of letting go, of understanding that he is less fragile, more capable, and of giving myself a little more room for mistakes. When you have a baby, you feel you have to be perfect: meet every need right away, know exactly what your baby wants at all times, be ready to nurse at any hour, day or night. Now I realize that accepting my own flaws and mistakes will make it easier for my son to accept his own. Being your very best, and trying your best, is enough...you don't have to be perfect to be the best mom.

My son Bodhi has always been a good eater. He latched on in less than an hour after birth, and took to nursing with a zealous flair. The kid knew his #1 priority, and he took it seriously. When that milk (me) came home even ten minutes late from the store, he would let me hear it. We followed the rules, breast milk only, but by 5 1/2 months, we decided to give him his first food just a little earlier than the steadfast recommendation of 6 months. He seemed so ready. He seemed hungry. He whined and reached for our forks while we ate. He wanted to nurse - almost always - just as the food was ready and put out on the dinner table. My husband would be cooking, the smell of food was in the air, and just as the food was finished and hot and I was ravenous, he would want to nurse.

We gave him his first food, avocado, and it was a moment I will never forget. "Mmmmmmm". "MMmmmmm", was his emphatic response to that. He gobbled up three bowls. 3 bowls. Not three teaspoons, as I read was the 'appropriate' amount for babies this age to want to eat, like the baby books will tell you. He literally ate an entire avocado... My husband and I laughing out loud the entire time. The only food he rejected in the entire first year of eating was green peas. And we tried a lot: beets, rutabagas, swiss chard, white beans with olive oil, lamb, basil, curry, olives, turkey, millet, apricots, pumpkin...

Anyway, as a baby, he was an enthusiastic eater. But that has all turned on its head this second year. Since he started wanting to feed himself, the options of what he can eat narrowed somewhat. Some dishes were just too messy or too difficult for him to eat himself. No more beets, no thin purees, no good healthy veggies disguised by the sweetness of fruits. So we went to finger foods, but then all meats were out due to textural issues, and all eggs too, except for hard-boiled egg whites. A protein dilemma. And almost all vegetables - except carrots, yams, corn, beets, and potatoes - (the starchy ones) - almost all others he rarely eats. Even avocado, his long-time favorite, is now rejected.

To add to the challenge, we have discovered a number of food allergies, two of which are a real doozy when trying to:
A) eat out at restaurants
B) keep things exciting and maintain variety
C) not spend his entire college fund at specialty stores

Wheat and Cow's Milk are his two sensitivities. Whenever I tell other parents this, they always ask: How did you know? Well, first, my husband and I are both naturopathic doctors, so it is literally our job to know these things. Secondly, careful observation of signs and symptoms related to foods he eats. Many people do not think to correlate the food that they eat with how they feel: headaches, skin allergies, mood swings, fatigue... all of these symptoms and more are OFTEN correlated with food and sensitivities to foods. For our son in particular, it was skin allergies (eczema) and diaper rash/diarrhea. Every time he eats dairy, he gets diaper rash. I don't believe that babies should just have diaper rash - in my medical experience, it is almost always a food sensitivity, sometimes coupled with a sensitivity to products being used, for example the wipes, lotions, or diapers. More on the naturopathic diagnosis and ways to deal with food allergies (now a major focus of my work!) in Picky Eater, part 3.

So here's the news for today. After more than 2 weeks of travel, we landed back in Kailua kona at 10am this morning, and are all very happy to be here. Bodhi has been tearing his shoes and socks off all week, to which I promptly reply, "you have to keep those on until we get back to Hawaii. It's cold here honey.". Of course, he didn't listen to the 'don't take those off' part, but apparently he understood the 'until back in Hawaii' part because as thelane was about to set down, he was again yanking both socks off and throwing them with such gusto, I know he was hoping he would never see them again.

My husband also responded by systematically stripping off layers of clothing until he looked native again in his slips, shorts, and a hat. I however, was stuck in jeans, sneakers and a long sleeve shirt, and I couldn't wait to get the heck home.

Once home we visited our favorite spot for some fresh island poke (raw marinated ahi), and settled in. Bodhi went down for a nap, so I decided to read and rest as well. I heard something, and figuring my husband had come home, I got up and instead found, at the foot of my bed, a little someone. Looking dazed and sleepy. A little someone who is supposed to still be staying put in his crib. I have caught him the past few weeks testing me by sliding his foot up the side of the crib as if to say, 'you know I could do this if I tried, right?'. And I knew he could, but I was hoping he wouldn't have the desire to figure it out. I had a feeling the end of this trip would be our deadline for the dreaded transition to the toddler or the twin bed, and it alas, is here.

So, we are getting settled back into life in our condo here, which means opening windows, turning on the air, and getting the place aired out. And a little spring cleaning is in order too, since the bugs take over as soon as you leave your tropical paradise. But... I had no idea just how much they took over. I grab a glass and pour some sparkling water into it, but instantly taste thT it isn't right, and spit it into the sink. I look into the bottle expecting to find mold and instead to my horror, I find... A dead gecko. I am so completely disgusted I am feeling my skin crawl. I spit, gargle salt water. Then my husband suggests vodka, and I drink that as well. I am still shivering with the thought of that floating reptile in the water bottle. Then, my husband tells me, at least you didn't drink a whole glass...

There are more blogs written about the past few weeks, I just haven't had a chance to post them, so get ready to hear tales of the Caribbean, cruise lines, meetings with old friends, citizenship appointments, and travel to Sonoma and San Francisco.

We are lucky in Kona to have amazing community parks and a large community center pool, complete with a baby pool, fountain, and an area for swimming laps. We go there once a week at least, so my husband can swim his laps, and Bodhi & I can play in the pool while I attempt to teach him how to swim.

I am, however, most likely never going to set foot at the community pool again.

Today on our trip, we splashed in the baby pool as usual. Then I took my son into the big pool for swimming and to practice kicking in the deeper water. All of the sudden, I saw sediment in the water and freaked out a little. Oh no. I immediately got us both out of the pool and rushed into the women's changing room with only a towel and his diaper. Sure enough, he had pooped in the pool. And somehow it had managed to escape and leak out through both the swim diaper (what are the use of those things anyway!?!) and the swimsuit I had OVER the diaper. And it had gotten into the pool. Well, at this point, I knew what the cause of the sediment was, and who was to blame. And at that moment, I was trying to figure out exactly how to leave the pool without being seen. Only, my stuff and my husband were still AT the pool, and I was hovering inside the women's bathroom.

I was imagining the lifeguard blowing his whistle and getting out his megaphone, announcing that there needed to be an expedient evacuation of the pool due to contamination. Then I was imagining all of the irritated and disgusted faces that would be glaring at us as me and my son (the only baby there today, as luck would have it) made our way back across the pool to the parking lot. Luckily, I saw my husband wander over to our towels, and quickly ran out of the locker room. "Quick", I shouted, "Let's go, now!" I had on only my bathing suit and Bodhi only a new diaper, and I was speedwalking across the cement toward the parking lot. My oblivious husband came jogging after us, saying, 'what's going on?' I explained what had happened, and why I needed to keep moving with my head down before I was noticed.

He told me to act nonchalantly, but I was so mortified I couldn't slow down. "Boy, I really liked that place", I said, "Too bad I can't go there again". Turns out, there was no megaphone and no fingers pointing in my direction, but I wasn't going to take any chances. I don't want to be THAT person, who gets banned from using the pool. And the excuse: "I DID use a swim diaper, I promise!" wasn't going to work, so I figured better to play it safe and deny everything.

If you are anything like me, this funk comes in fits and waves, like a malarian fever. One day you feel great, accomplished, energetic. The next you feel like something the cat dragged in...tired, groggy, heavy, dark. I blame it on our society - the need to do, strive and achieve, doesn't exactly lend itself to a full-time mothering position, where the epitome of your days occasionally lies in getting both baby sheets washed and dried by bedtime.

This week has been one of those moments for me, where the naps just don't seem to click, the days flow together, and the dark purple hue of my eyes reminds me how sleep-deprived I feel. This morning I was wishing I could just stare out the window and drink my cup of coffee in pure meditative silence. Do nothing. Until properly caffeinated. Now it is nearly noon, and I still do not feel awake, but at least during a nap, I have a moment to reflect and brew a cup of tea. This sleep deprivation explains my event obsession with caffeine: from Italian macchiatos to fresh tea leaves to Kona coffee pressed, I have discovered a new fascination with caffeinated beverages. We have been pouring over research for weeks on which espesso machine to purchase, before deciding on a DeLonghi we found on a discount site. Cannot wait until that package arrives and we begin experimenting with morning cappuccinos. When I open my sleepy eyes at sunrise, my first thought is to my toddler standing at the foot of the bed exclaiming, "Momma! Uppa!" (i.e. get up momma! or 'I am waking you up, Momma!'). My second thought is to how quickly I can make coffee or tea and then how fast I can drink it. I think this is the definition of sleep-deprivation that comes with the first few years of motherhood. Even though most nights he is sleeping through the night, the mornings still come surprisingly early.

The funk works as a strong antagonist to getting any work done, or even pursuing interests. Do I feel like surfing today? ugh, too tired. Running? Forget it. Art? Maybe just an iced tea, and reading a magazine on the couch. Soon the productiveness and the desire to be active will return, but for now, I will nap.