loungin'

what you lookin' at?
Originally uploaded by anneke boudreau.

Z was unsuccessfully chasing after the cat on the deck. Looking for something more satisfying, I decided to see how he'd fit in his adirondack chair. Not only did he fit, he thought he was a model trying to sell the chair - coming up with a variety of poses and looks. This is "fonzy." He also does "checkin' out the view, dude" and "in your face!."

traveling without moving

Nursing is my meditation time.

When I was employed, as I nursed I worried about work or Z or designed changes to the garden or house. Last week, I noticed that the void of worrying about work was filled by new worries about the neighbors hearing Z cry, what my friends (with kids) thought of me as a parent, what my friends (without kids) thought of me as a person, etc. etc.

Not working allows me and Z to spend time with folks during the day - the mothers from nordstroms, other friends with kids. These interactions raise new concerns - the looks that I receive at the kiddie pool when Z wails about waking up in the stroller, the admonition about Z chewing on a piece of paper..."all those toxins." It also means that when we attend barbeques with friends who don't have kids, I don't seem to have anything to say. I'm definitely in transition and feeling a bit "blank." So...I've been thinking about these things when I nurse....thinking about how I think.

During a recent nap break, I listed all of the things that I don't like about myself and negative things that I say to myself when I'm out and about with others. When I finished, I laughed. "If this is the worst I can come up with...why am I so worried?" There are definitely things on that list that I wish weren't there, but for the most part, I'm a fairly decent and likeable human being - at least on paper. :)

I feel like a rock - steady and firm, but not very interesting to watch. Needing some moss to give me some color or fire to expose the diamond within. Love and forgiveness required.

"Project sleep" - two steps forward, one step back.

Z and I have established a daily routine, which is giving me more time during the day to write, plan, and work (around the house). He isn't waking as often during the night and doesn't always need to nurse to go back to sleep. I'm thankful for the progress. A couple days last week I was completely wacked from lack of sleep, but the last few nights have been good. Deciding to work on sleeping longer before making the move to the crib seems to help - maybe we were trying to do too much at once. Several folks have said to expect Z to return to old habits during our upcoming trip, that travel is likely to disrupt progress. We'll ease back this week and the following two weeks on the road, then see where we're at when we return.

But, I have to give myself credit - we've made lots of changes. He's eating 3 meals of solids per day. His two naps per day are at least an hour long, sometimes more. He's going to sleep for the night at a regular time and sleeping for at least 3 hours at a time, sometimes longer. He doesn't need to nurse back to sleep everytime he wakes and is getting better at soothing himself back to sleep. Our nighttime routine is fun and after two weeks, he seems to be anticipating it more each night. He's playing alone more during the day and he is on the move. It takes time.

I feel like a tree, each day sending roots a bit deeper, sprouting another leaf, sending out a new limb. Taking cues from the sun, air, earth, and water. Patience, consistency, and persistence required.

What happened to my sense of humor?

I think my sense of humor is hibernating. Perhaps it is the hot weather, or the lack of sleep, or all the worrying, but I've been rather serious. My funny voices emerge when reading stories and my imagination makes appearances via silly songs ("mmmm pears are good for you, they may make you poo, let's eat pears yum yum yum")...but otherwise, I feel like I'm weighing down conversations...not to the extent of Debbie Downer....maybe I'm expecting too much...maybe it's all part of figuring out who I am without my job.

I feel like a rose bush - a diseased limb has been removed and I'm storing energy to sprout a magnificent new bushy limb full of vibrant red roses. Patience and nurturing required.

soyless in seattle

Thankfully, the next six months of breastfeeding will help me "reprogram" myself to steer clear of soy...but it's soy hard! I'm used to avoiding eggs, wheat, and milk. Peanuts won't be that much of a stretch because my mom is allergic to them, although peanut butter (by the spoonful) is one of my favorite snacks and phad thai one of my favorite dinners. But soy?! It's SOy unfair! No more tofu! Soy milk! Soy sauce!!! That means all of my comfort foods are out until Z outgrows his allergy...no more phad see ew...miso soup...pho...grilled tofu...terriyaki...edamame...glasses and glasses of chilled chocolate soy milk! AND not to mention that soy lecithin is in most chocolates (heaven forbid!) and soy oil is in most breads, pastries, and baked snacks (like veggie booty!).

It's soy sad...let's hope that soymeday, we'll be able to enjoy soy together...soymeday soon, I hope!!

back on track

1 May 2005 - J and I (and a recently conceived Z) ran the Vancouver 1/2 marathon. An integral part of our training was running the 3.1 miles around Green Lake. In marathon shape I could run the loop three times. Soon after the 1/2, I quickly lost my endurance as my heart raced to pump enough blood for the both of us. I walked the loop several times per week throughout the pregnancy up until the day before he was born. Since his birth, walking around the lake has been a gauge of my return to fitness - at first only able to walk a short section, it took a couple months to walk the whole loop.

The advice we received about jogging strollers (which seems to be the advice about everything) was "six months;" his neck and back should be strong enough to withstand the bumps and jars of riding. Z will be 6 months in 2 days (!), so we took the stroller on loan from ZJK to Green Lake to give it (and me) a whirl.

It was easier than I thought. My legs generally went forwards and backwards, my arms stayed by my sides, and I traveled in a reasonably straight line...I had visions of me running like I was drunk and unable to control my limbs. Instead, it was like the first week of training for the 1/2 marathon - back when I couldn't run three miles at one go. I've been here before and I'll be there again.

In typical "me" fashion, we hadn't finished my first run and I was planning for the Vancouver 1/2 next May. I like the symmetry - running it the year before I gave birth and the year after - and I like the idea of training with J and Z then running it with both of them. I hope Z finds the jogging stroller comfortable... ;)

sitting "ma ma" bridge

bridge
Originally uploaded by anneke boudreau.

It was an eventful week! Z kindly waited for me to stop working to start showing off new tricks. He can now sit by himself (photo), although he's wobbly enough (and the floor hard enough) that we wrap the boppy pillow around his legs to give him a cushion. He's able to hold himself up in a bridge - on his knees and hands (ala the picture). He rocks back and forth a bit and sometimes scoots his knees forward - he's our carpet commado. His list of solid foods is growing: rice, banana, pear, and prune - this week the new food is oatmeal. So far, he's not too crazy about it. Pears seem to be the big favorite. It also seems that he might be calling nursing, "ma ma." Either that or it's just fun to say...not sure yet.

window dressing

When I was 16 years old, I had the first of a recurring vision - a window overlooking a street. Sunny. Beautiful. Clean, crisp lines - good design. Modern. I knew that if I ever saw myself looking out of that window, I would be successful - I would be doing my purpose. I always thought the window looked like San Francisco - on a row of tightly packed houses lining an angled street. I pictured myself in a dark business skirt suit with a brief case...a professional.

I've been wearing that outfit as I looked out of modern windows from apartments in Elmhurst, Chicago, Madison, and Seattle. But it's today - sitting in a grey Sonics t-shirt with rolled up white cotton pants, a baby sleeping in my lap - that I'm looking out of his bedroom window over the valley of neighbors' homes and trees thinking for the first time, "this might be the window."

Tomorrow, the 4th of July - the U.S. Independence Holiday - is my "dependents" day. I'm unemployed but my "job" is snoring in my lap. I won't be back to work in three months (assuming we manage our money well ;), this isn't another maternity leave. When I signed off of the secure server on Thursday, that was it. Now, I must not dwell on what once was or could be, I must focus on the moment....his raspy breath, the birds in the neighbor's apple tree, the hum of cars on 15th street, wind chimes next door, the fan in the living room, dogs yelping a few houses down...these are the sounds floating through the window. Sounds I had not stopped to listen to during the time this room was my office.

I always thought the window meant "success" - apparently it means "present."