dadadadadadadadadadadadada…

…DaDaDaDaDaDaDaDaDaDaDaDa…

…DADADADADADADADADADADADADADADADADADA!!!!!

(Got that?)

*****

Anyone who has shown even the slightest willingness to let me whine at them over the last 6 months knows how tired I am of nursing. At the same time, I appreciate how important it is to Jacob and I don’t want to simply stop without any give and take. So over the course of the last three months, I’ve tried out several weaning strategies and attempts.

We started with “don’t offer, don’t refuse”, which didn’t really change anything at all. Then came offering the sippy cup instead, which worked about half the time. After a month (?) of this, I realized that what really made me loathe nursing was the impact it had on our sleep. We (mostly) night-weaned, and things got a lot better. Recently, I stopped the ’snack bar’ approach to nursing during the day and established set nurse-times for Jacob: first waking, nap times, his bedtime, our bedtime, and usually around 5am I’d give in to his pestering so that I could nab another hour of sleep. We went to Jacob’s 15-month wellness visit recently, and the doctor said “absolutely not” to sleep-feedings because of increased risk of tooth decay. So one week ago, we cut out the nursing at our bedtime. Tonight, we cut out the 5am.

And I have to say, going through all of this structure, all of these attempts, really seems to have brought into relief what nursing does for Jacob. It’s his security blanket, in a nutshell–he doesn’t suck on a pacifier, have a lovey toy or blanket, hell, he doesn’t even feel the need to stay within sight 80% of the time. But when he’s feeling crummy, when he’s in a new situation, when he’s waking up hard from a nap and is all disoriented, he asks to nurse. And when I let him nurse at these times, it’s like I’ve been visited by the magical nursing fairy in all of those Dr. Sears books. Jacob snuggles into my lap, cuddles his arms around me, and hangs out for 5 minutes or so while nursing. Then he gets up and does his own thing.

It really is one of the sweetest feelings in the world. And after all of the nursing elimination we’ve gone through, it’s incredibly lovely to have the final few nursings per day be these cuddly bonding experiences. And this leaves me in a place I would never have predicted two months ago: Am I desperate to cut these last few feedings out and wean Jacob entirely? Not at all. I’m even feeling more relaxed about the “only at naptime” rule during the day.

Color me shocked.

And it’s the weirdest thing. We’re treating this cold like he’s a big kid, basically. OJ and chicken soup, lots of fluids and rest, and Robitussin. Hallelujah, a decongestant! No more sleepless nights and trying to force saline drops up a squirming, screaming baby’s nose.

It’s this, more than the walking and talking, more even than the haircut, that’s made me realize we don’t have a baby anymore.

Of course, it turns out he needs to practice at language like everything else. And to complicate matters, we’ve been signing with Jacob and he uses that about half the time. So by some metrics, his first “word” was probably the sign for ‘more’; by others, the excited “Meh!” for me/milk/nursing/food and “Deh!” for Jon/wanting something/wanting to know what something is.

If we cut the confusion, though, and declare “first word” to mean “first verbal utterance that sounds very much like an adult”, he’s just gotten there recently. At the dinner table the other night, Jon and I realized that Jacob has gotten quite articulate at “No”. He even gets the O sound right. “Jacob, would you like this food?” “No!” “That food?” “No!” “To get down?” “No!”

…and on and on. Yup, you read that right. Our kid’s first real word is No. I suppose it could be worse–Jon’s first words were apparently “Me first!”–but something tells me that our parenting ride is not going to get any easier.

At least he’s a helpful boy, too.

(I swear to God that was not staged in any way.)

I didn’t think so. (Whenever Jacob finds something on the ground, he picks it up, holds it as high in the air as he can manage, and stomps around loudly proclaiming his prowess to the world. It’s cute, but strange.)

Jon is getting settled at NPS, and I’m getting settled here, I suppose. The sleep situation has improved, thank goodness. It looks like he was (a) teething, (b) eating the wrong kinds of foods before bed, and (c) needed a new bedtime routine. Now that (b) and (c) are taken care of, he’s falling asleep much more easily. I expect the night wakings will settle down again once (a) is in a lull. Three of his molars are now through the gum, and the fourth looks to be any day.

I keep finding myself thinking about MITRE, the people I left there, the work I passed along. How is it going? Is my government counterpart still enjoying his promotion? Are my direct reports still doing well? As much as I’m thrilled to pieces that we’ve been able to make my staying home work out financially, it’s taking a little while to let go of my old identity. I shouldn’t be surprised by that–I gave them 10 years of my life and threw myself into my work–but I am. It feels a little like I’ve lost my favorite pair of slippers or sweat pants–there’s nothing comfortable to slip into anymore!

Full-time motherhood is more daunting this time around (vs. the first 8 months of Jacob’s life, before I went back to work). Now that he’s a toddler, he’s coming everywhere I go, eating everything I eat, listening to every word I say, and comprehending most everything I do. It’s more exhausting now: When he was 2 months old, if I was having a bad day I could pretty much just stick him in my lap, nurse him, and surf the internet all day. Not so much an option anymore, that. It’s also just plain scarier: It’s much more clear, now, that I’m helping shape a person. He’s clearly learning about the world and how to relate to it through my example, so I’d better make it a damn good example.

I feel a little mean saying this, but it’s also more rewarding this time around. As much as I really could (and did!) sit around all day smelling that heady new-baby smell and playing with his little toes, it’s a lot more fun to watch him figure out his shape-sorter puzzle or play peek-a-boo with him (at his urging!) or hear him say “bye bye mom!” (“buh buh ma!”) 7,000 times as he steps in and out of the house.

So, yeah. We’re settling in. Life is good here. I hope it’s good where you are, too.

One of the big downsides to our new house is that it doesn’t have a back yard for Jacob to play in: the house is built on a very steep hill, so there’s nothing but a very steep grade with some baby redwoods behind it. It does have a back deck, however, that’s completely enclosed and utterly baby-proofed:

So, basically just a big rectangle with fairly high sides (4.5 feet?) and no egress except back into the house. One of the other things that makes up for the lack of back yard is the view off of said deck.

On the other side of those trees? The Pacific Ocean.

During the day, when we’re on this floor I just leave the sliding doors open and let Jacob run around out there. He loves going in and out of the house, and simply walking back and forth the maybe 12 feet of length the deck gives him. Seems kind of dull to me, but hey! Whatever keeps him happy.

We’re blazing through our to-do lists this week, thank God. We now officially live here in CA, and even have license plates to prove it. Shelves have been erected, stuff put on them, and the downstairs tv room/office is nearly complete. I’m aaaalmost ready to take pictures of the house to share, for those interested.

*****

Living with a toddler is kind of like living with an insane laboratory scientist. Exchange of the day:

[Jacob rushes up to where I'm seated on the couch, excitedly pointing at the coaster under my water glass.] “Da! Da! Da!” (Translation: “That”, as in, “Give me that”)

Me, to Jacob: “You want my coaster?”

[Jacob nods vigorously, loses his balance, sits down, still nodding.]

I give Jacob the coaster, and he wanders away with it, giggling. A few minutes elapse.

[Jacob rushes up to where I'm seated on the couch, excitedly pointing at the votive candle holder next to me.] “Da! Da! Da!”

I give him a strange look and the candle holder. He wanders away with it, giggling. A few more minutes elapse.

[Jacob rushes up to where I'm seated on the couch, excitedly pointing at some little bits of plastic on the end table.] “Da! Da! Da!”

Me, to Jacob: “You want these?” [I point at the plastic.]

He nods vigorously again, I give him the plastic, he happily wanders away.

I’m not sure I want to know what he was doing with a coaster, votive holder, and some random pieces of plastic, but I do admit to some small bit of curiosity.

*****

Good night, all. (And if you still have suggestions for bedtime strategies, keep ‘em coming!)

(Eat the cheese. Shake the rattle. Drink the tequila.)

After an amazing time on our road trip, and a couple of pretty blissful weeks here, Jon and I were patting ourselves on the back for keeping Jacob in a good bedtime routine. He went to bed with minimal fuss and little interaction with me (bedtime being Jon’s job), he was sleeping 6 hours for the first stretch, waking up at the civilized hour of 7:30am, everyone was pretty happy and rested. You can see where this is going, of course.

Then Jon went on a business trip last week, and it’s been pretty much hell since then. Screeching in an entirely unholy manner until I go into the nursery and nurse him to sleep, then waking several times a night, rising at 6:00am again, the whole thing. After just a week of this, we’re back to the exhausted, cranky selves we all remember from the summer. Not good.

Trouble is, I really don’t want to rely on nursing as a panacea anymore–I’m trying to encourage Jacob to wean. (I haven’t enjoyed it for quite some time, I promised myself I’d make it to a year, yadda yadda.) But we find ourselves in the embarassing place of not really knowing what else to do. So, dear readers, friends and family… any suggestions? How do we get this kid to sleep without herculean effort?

One year ago, we were trying to get the hang of this whole diaper thing. Jacob and I were learning to nurse. Jacob was… well, we’re not sure, really. Learning how to be alive, who his parents are, how to move his limbs intentionally.

It’s impossible to describe the feeling of being handed your first child. Participating in the delicate and awe-inspiring and so very fragile transformation from fetus to self-sustaining person, recognizing the massive responsibility you now hold, seeing flesh and bone and life that you created.

We were unsure of this leap to parenthood. There were times, when I was pregnant, that we would just look at each other and gulp and pray that everything would work out. There have been times since Jacob’s birth when we’ve looked at each other, bone-tired, needing a vacation, wondering how we’d get through the next 24 hours. It’s the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. It has changed literally every facet of my life. But (and this is the part that’s impossible to really understand, I think, until you’ve done it) I would never, ever change even one second.

Now, a year later, we’re blessed to live with this little person, who walks and talks. He has a sense of humor, this incredibly fierce and solemn need to know more, know everything. He applies every last bit of himself to every problem he faces. Every day he shows us the true meaning of joy. I cannot imagine our lives without him. They would be paler, colder, in every way.

We love you, little man. Happy birthday.

But that’s okay, because there’s a lot of new blog stuff to talk about. You’ll already have noticed the new look; I’ve switched my blog-generation software. The main Zog welcome page will stay the same, but the blog itself has a new URL. One upside of this switch is that you can now leave comments; another should be that PC users no longer have trouble reading the text. Please do let me know if you particularly like or dislike anything about the new format, and please comment and let me know what’s going on back in New England, too.

The big excitement of the day is Jacob, who figured out how to dismantle the hotel tub faucet during his bath:

That’s Jon’s son, right there. :) He’s turning into such a little boy. It’s fun and sad to watch, at the same time. Tonight before bed he didn’t want to nurse but was all over getting his own Cheerios and drinking from a straw.

The road trip has put us into a weird time-warp where we have no idea what day it is, what time it is, where we are, etc. I’m glad we road-trip well together, and I’m very glad we’ll be spending a whole day (and 2 nights) in lovely Boulder, CO.

See you tomorrow!

(Edit: I haven’t finished updating the sidebar with our pictures and information, and relevant links. Hopefully I’ll get to that over the weekend. In the meantime, all of the categories and archives and everything dealing with the posts themselves should be fine. I’ve migrated over all of the old posts.)