The Second Nine Months

I read this book by Vicki Glembocki in record time, I think mostly because I felt like she was in my head. I tried not to dog ear every other page but there were some that I just had to. She summed in a very honest and funny way what the begining of this journey has been and without apologies.

Some of my favorites:
Month 1:
"Wasn't that whole maternal instinct thing supposed to stick around after that first night in the hospital? Wasn't some maternal gene supposed to switch on and keep me all stoned on bliss and beaming at this child like she is pure light? Like she is the sun? Like, by having her, my life has finally begun and I am finally complete? Isn't that what everyone says at the end of A Baby Story?"

Month 2:
Vicki is going to Babies R Us to pick up formula. "On a day like today someone will surely peer in the cart and say 'Oh what a beautiful baby. So quiet. So content.' And she will think, What a good mom this woman must be...As soon as the doors close behind us, Blair starts to scream. The cries should sound familiar to me but they don't because they are ricocheting off the three story high ceilings, echoing down the aisles, filling up Babies R Us like a sonic boom. People are turning around...'Hang in there kiddo," I say to Blair as we cut our path to the front of the store. 'We can do this,' Except when we get to the register I realize I don't want to do this. What I want is to walk out of Babies R Us and leave Blair there wailing, the blue vein popping out of her forehead. Nice people work at Babies R Us. Surely someone will take her home and care for her and buy her pretty things. I look at the door and picture myself walking through it into the parking lot, into my life as it was before, where I was a confident, able, reliable person. Where I laughed at myself. Where I never, ever felt the urge to run away from anything because it was hard."

Later her friend Kim tells her to put away all the books and trust herself: "I can vaguely remember a time not so long ago when I customarily did what I thought was best. When I trusted my instincts. However, my instincts seem to have slid out with the baby and are at the place, wherever it is, that they put all that extra stuff that slides out with the baby. This new, instinct-less me wants someone the old me never would have tolerated. Someone to tell her what to do."

Month 5
They are working on getting Baby Blair to sleep in her own room. But first, Vicki consults the "experts."
"We could ferberize her by going in after 10 minutes, then after 15, patting her back to let her know we hadn't jumped in the car and sped to Atlantic City where we planned to assume new identities managing a funnel cake shop, leaving her to starve, all alone, in this lacquered white cage. Except, Health Sleep Habits, Healthy Child warned that patting interferes with learning to fall asleep unassisted. But then Dr. Sears thought crying it out went against a mother's basic biology. He thought that babies lost trust in the mother and this mistrust will carry over into other aspects of their relationship, which I assumed meant Blair's first words would be 'I hate you, Mommy," and then she would immediately have every part of her body that sticks out pierced."

Later she is at a community pool when she hears a baby wail and she is shocked that it isn't Blair.
"I was trying so hard to get her to stop crying all of the time that I didn't notice her smiling. I didn't see how happy she was when the swaddling worked, when the bouncing worked, because I was already preparing for the next fit. Because I was living melt down to melt down, oblivious to what happened in between. "

This previous one really strikes a chord with me. I am always so quick to take responsibility for failures but not for successes like smiles.

And finally Month 9
She has been reading an email from one of those list servs that details the top 10 ways your life changes with a baby, like you become a morning person, you stop to smell the roses because your baby is in your arms.
"I wanted to scream. I did scream. Are you friggin serious! I yelled as I hammered down on the delete button as if the message were some kind of venomous bug. This is exactly the problem I thought. This is exactly why I spent six months feeling like a failure, why I spent months feeling alone. This should be illegal, all this mommy propaganda...Here I am at the gym, face to face with a woman who is 8 months pregnant. She probably subscribes to baby center.com too. She probably got the same email this morning...I'm proud of myself. This is what I should do. Start a crusade. A movement. Mothers Who Break the Silence. Mothers Against Pretending They're Good Mothers. And here I am. Telling the truth...'Its really hard. Just so you know. The beginning was harder than anyone ever told me it would be. If you feel lost or frustrated or guilty or anything, know that you're not the only one.' 'Wow. You really make it sound great,' the woman says sarcastically squinching her eyebrows together."

"Maybe Blair won't remember crying, being trapped in swaddles, needles in her heels, falling out of her swing, starving, Thad and me fighting, me talking to myself about how much I hate this, about how I don't know what to do, about how I don't know if I can handle anymore, about how I'm not sure if I love her." "Yes Blair has changed. But the real change happened in me...There is no switch. There is no maternal gene that clicks on the moment the nurse places the baby on your chest. I had to learn to be a mother." "Just then I remembered an email a co-worker sent while I was pregnant. 'Some people, their kids ground them. Other people, their kids shake them up. I'm afraid you and I are doomed to be shaken up. But that's what we get for being so sure we're on top of things all of the time.'"

Sing it loud sister. I'll keep telling the truth if you will.

A Transformative Day

Tuesday was a big day. Callie and I had a great day. It wasn't just a "I survived the day" kind of day. I really enjoyed being with her. I think I finally got my head around what I had been doing. I had been trying to fit her into my life when I should have been doing the opposite. It made me think of some very good family friends who when they got pregnant said "This baby isn't going to change our way of life. We are having a baby to complement our lifestyle not to change it." I'm sure all the people they said it to that already had kids chuckled internally. Obviously your life does change, radically. Although I never said a statement like they did, I was living it. I was getting mad when she wasn't happy about what I needed to do.
Tuesday we also went to our PPD group and ran an errand with no meltdown! I also have been wrapping my head around an idea that a good friend told me a couple of weeks ago:"We don't have to attend to every cry." What an idea! I was always running back in when she started crying and I was just getting more frustrated. So on Tuesday, she was fed, clean and safely in her co-sleeper while I started to eat lunch. Of course, the moment my fork touched my food she started to wail. I said outloud, " I know, you're lonely. I am going to take 3 minutes and eat my lunch and then I will come and get you." And I did. And she was fine and I was fine.
I am paying a lot closer attention to my blood sugar, eating every couple of hours. I was basically running on fumes before. I was eating breakfast when she got up around 8, eating lunch around 2-3 and eating dinner around 7-8. So no wonder I was cranky! I was starving myself. I am definitely coming to grips with the idea that I need to refill my cup before I can take care of her. After I went in to check on her, I thought she might be hungry again so I tried to feed her but she ended up just falling asleep on me and it was beautiful. I had a million things I could have been doing but I decided to stay with her. And it was in that moment looking at her, seeing her fingers curled up on my chest that I think I finally understood that word Mother, that it does mean sacrifice and being selfless. I had been telling myself I didn't have to sacrifice but that just isn't true. It made me think of this quote from one of my favorite movies: "Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of all children. Do you understand?" Now I do.

Mixed Messages

Callie is all about mixed messages these days. Like this afternoon. I got back from my mom's group and an errand and then the screaming begins. I let her cry a bit on her own because it seemed like she might be tired. I don't know why I try that from time to time. It NEVER works. She is not the kid that will cry for a few minutes and give up and take a nap. Ooooh no. She takes it as a personal challenge to cry as long as possible. So I go in to our room, take her out of the co-sleeper and try to feed her because she is rooting. I try to feed her, no go. Still screaming. Until I put the pacifier in her mouth and she falls asleep. And not just falls asleep, but falls asleep in the most adorable way possible. Curled up against my body with her legs against my stomach, her head on my chest, her tiny fingers on my hand and her hand firmly around the straps of my nursing bra, as if to say "I may not need to eat now, but don't go far. I'm gonna need those boobs later." And in those moments of peace, I feel like the luckiest gal on the planet.

The Crib

The crib that we bought for Callie has been an important purchase for us. We didn't want to spend too much money on it, because we had spent so much money on her before she even showed up! So we found one that we liked at Le Target. It sat in a box for weeks. We laughed at how I was the one that noticed it was called "Serenitity" instead of "Serenity."
Finally, Bill and his friend Mike put it together. That was the "oh shit" moment for me. Because I thought to myself, "Oh shit. There is going to be a baby in that thing pretty soon!" Now, said crib is now a subject of a recall, like every other drop side crib in the country. I scoured the internet for the perfect bedding that wasn't too girly, but wasn't too neutral either. I settled on birds and I love them. We had received other bedding sets as gifts from friends, but I didn't care. I was going to buy the bedding set I had registered for and that I had my heart on for my little bird. And what happened to it? Storage. Before today there have been numerous items housed in the crib, none of which included our daughter. The attachment to the papasan swing, blankets, baby carriers, blankets, mobiles, boxes, you name it!
Today she napped in the crib for the first time, it was all of about 15 minutes, but that is totally her napping style.
We are planning to move Callie into the crib after we return from Paris. It seemed silly to do it before since we are going to be using the travel co-sleeper in Paris. Part of me is overjoyed to free up some space in our bedroom. Right now you practically have to do the limbo to get in or out of the room, let alone get into the closet. I also am looking forward to having our room be ours again. The whole house has been taken over by everything Callie, so it will be nice to have one space that is just us. But there is another part of me that hates the idea. I can't imagine not leaning over to look at her sleep, partly because I am always afraid she has stopped breathing. I watch to catch a glimpse of her chest rising and falling with her breathing and her occassional snores. And I'm sure if past experience continues, this girl isn't going to go easy. But I suppose time will tell.

Sunday Night Blahs

When I was working I always hated sunday nights. It meant Monday morning and the work week was imminent. I didn't expect to have exactly the same feeling as a stay at home mom, but I do. I am always in a foul mood late sunday night because I know the week is looming. The weekends are so nice because Bill is around so if I need a break he can take over for a bit. Or like this weekend on Sunday I had my Camera Cinema Club and got a few hours to myself and saw a very good movie: The Pat Tilman Story.
During the week, no such luck. During the week it is just us...ALLLLLL day. Although one difference I notice is that when I was working I would basically go over in my head everything I planned to do on Monday. What my lesson plans were going to be, what meetings I had, what papers I was planning on grading, which students I was excited or dreaded to see the next day. Now, I can't plan for anything! So I just go to sleep! So in some ways, being a stay at home mom is freeing.
Even when Bill gets home at night I don't get to pack it in and let him take over, not really. She still has to feed and she is a verrrry fussy girl at night. And poor Bill. Some nights I am practically throwing Callie at him when he walks through the door. But he usually knows its coming. I usually text him to tell him if she is having a bad day. Like today, which wasn't necessarily bad...but interesting. She napped long enough this morning so I could mop some of the floors, which honestly hadn't been done since before Callie came home with us! Sweeping we can handle, but mopping just hadn't happened. So I thought...Ok! We got this today! I put her on her changing pad, which she adores. I've taken her diaper off and cleaned her bum. She is so happy I just leave her there for a bit while I run around and getting some things done. When all of a sudden, I hear THE noise. Uh oh. Shit all over the changing pad and her nice clean bum. Luckily she had napped earlier so I wasn't super stressed like I usually am. So we cleaned up and went on with our day. So that was our Monday Funday.
At least Sunday nights now mean True Blood in our house:) But we only have 2 more weeks of TB! Then I guess it will be back to Blah.

A Thousand Splendid Suns

So I've been reading A Thousand Splendid Suns by Kholed Husseini, albeit slowly. But last night we got a rare treat, a couple of hours of silence so we could read!! Bill read his Sherlock Holmes and I, Suns. It is such an incredible book, although a bit sad.
It is the story of the last 30 years of Afghanistan as told through the eyes of 2 women as they grow up in Kabul. One of the women has a daughter and the lengths she goes to to protect her as much as possible is awe inspiring. It really made me take stock of how incredibly blessed we are. We have a healthy girl who is loved by her father and her mother, unlike in the book. Rasheed is a deplorable character!! Ugh. I also feel blessed that I have never known the pangs of poverty and starvation. I have never had to worry about how I was going to eat or how to divide up small amounts of food for my child and the rest of our family. I have never known the pain of her tears with no moisture because of dehydration. I, as my daughter, has the freedom to move about the world without fear of repression and torture. There was more than one point in the book where I was reduced to tears for what this little family was going through and partly because I am so glad we are so lucky in our family to never know those types of struggles.And I hope that more areas of the world will be as lucky as we are to experience these types of freedoms and acceptance.
I finally stopped reading and went to bed around 1:30am. I told myself I wasn't going to stop until there was a somewhat happy point in the book, which honestly, took a while!

The Darkness

As I struggle to put into words what these PPD feelings are like, I stumbled onto this blog post by Catherine Connors. She expresses her struggle in terms of a darkness or a monster in the closet. That is very much what it feels like. When it washes over me, I know they are awful thoughts in the moment. They are sick little dreams, fantasies if you will. The strongest one I experienced a few weeks ago. Callie was a screaming mess so I took her for a walk. She loves trees like nothing else, so I thought it would calm both of us down. Wrongo Dongo. She got even more upset. I tried stopping to feed her on the grass. I tried entertaining her. Nothing. And suddenly I had an image: pushing the stroller into the street. And then I would be free. I immediately felt like a terrible person, that I could even think a thing.
It usually hits me at night, lying in bed. It has gotten worse since the incident at Rancho. I lay awake thinking of more horrible things that could've happened. How I would tell Bill. Would he ever forgive such a horrible mistake? Could I ever forgive myself?
Sometimes, I think, I could wake up in the morning and this all would have been a dream, and I would have my life back. But I always feel immediately guilty. Some nights I just lay in bed and cry. The other night that happened and Bill just held me and stroked my arm. I was waiting for the question. What is wrong? I had an answer ready just in case. But thankfully it never was asked. My answer was going to be "I am horribly unhappy." Bill and I spoke very honestly this morning about it. I told him that I feel like I've lost everything because of her. I've lost my self, my job, my spark. I am a slave to her. When she has a bad day, so do I. This morning he said one of the nicest things he could've possibly said "I wish I could stay home a couple days a week to help you with her." He gets just as frustrated with her, he just isn't with her the kind of hours that I am. And besides, Bill is the calm and collected one. Its all very schizophrenic. There are minutes and hours where she is the most amazing thing in the world and I feel so blessed to have her in my life. And then she screams and I can't help her.
With the job situation, I (we) made the choice for me to stay home. I thought it was the right one. But now I don't know. I've always known that teaching is a part of me. I may not be the best teacher in the world, I'm sure there are students out there that would wholeheartedly agree, but it is my core. I didn't really realize how much it was my center until I am faced with not doing it. I let people convince me this was the right thing to do, for me and my family. "If you can afford it, you should take a year off." "I wish I was pregnant so I could stop working." "Why would you want some stranger raising your daughter?" But I guess in the end, it is a stranger raising her, I just didn't know that stranger was me. I'm sure this is something I will continue to struggle with as my friends, family and co-workers return to lesson plans, essays, annoying emails from parents, non stop questions from kids and lunches in brown bags. And I will miss all of it. But I will continue to be honest about it.

Facing Facts

Today I went to my first what is called Mother's Support Group, but really it is a Post Partum Depression Group. So I am forced to finally face some facts. I have post partum depression. I have the baby blues, whatever you want to call it. There I said it. Nothing horrible happened. In fact, some really great things happened today. I was with other women saying the exact things I had been feeling at various times since we brought Callie home. I decided to go when the facilitator put these questions in her email and the brochure: "Everyone else is a better mother than me." "Maybe I'm just not cut out for this job." "Why can't I stop feeling guilty?" "What made me think I could do this?" "What is wrong withe me? Why don't I love every moment of being a mom when I feel like I'm supposed to." In my head I said " Check." "Check." "Check."
And honestly, I think a lot of the feelings that we are all struggling with are a byproduct of the way the family structure and child bearing has evolved in the United States. We are very isolated. It is rare when mothers are honest about how hard it is and how shitty it can feel, how you can long for just a quiet moment, or long for your old life back.
I knew I had to go to this group after yesterday. Yesterday was yet another dark day. She was a mess and I was angry. I yelled, I cried. Repeat. Rinse.
But I am so blessed to have an amazing husband who always seems to know when I need a break and I never have to say it out loud. I never have to say the words : "I need help." Because to me, saying those words out loud equate with failure. But I got to say those words today in a safe environment. I cried in front of strangers because it was safe and they all had been in the place where I am.
Other people like to tell me "It will get easier." But I don't think it does. I think the target moves constantly. I think maybe "It will get easier" is a way to tell new mothers that they felt the same guilt and shame that I am experiencing without saying "Ya, sometimes being a mom sucks."
Part of me shuddered a little when the facilitator wrote on my form: group therapy Post Partum Depression. I wanted to avoid it and say no: that's not me. I don't get depressed. I am an even keeled person. But then I stopped and accepted the words. Am I freak of nature? No. I am just struggling with a severe life change. I have this life form that needs me 24 hours a day. I do not have a job outside of that. In truth, nothing can really prepare you for having a baby. You can take the classes and read the books, but you have to walk the walk. I know that a lot of it has to do with hormones, exhaustion. Cause really, lets face it, I'm on my own with this baby for 12-14 hours a day. Is there anyone that you could being with for 12-14 hours a day without getting a little snippy? No. So I choose not to be ashamed. I choose to say, yes this is something that I am struggling with and I am finding support so that my family can be happy and healthy. Including me.

Its Been An Interesting 24 Hours

So last night was pretty exciting. Our friend Barry was over for a visit. We had a nice time visiting and catching up. Then all of a sudden we heard Milo going nuts outside. It was pretty late so I went to the door to call him inside so he didn't bother the neighbors. Imagine my surprise when I called his name and he came barrelling in the back door. Usually if he's barking at something it takes quite a bit of coaxing to get him to give up the hunt. As he came in the door he was still yelping. Then we realized that he was hurt. That's right, that's damned raccoon is back. He had a bite or a scratch, hard to tell which, on his front right leg (last time it was his front left leg) and his back left leg. Poor fellow has an interesting limp going on. We also found a scratch awfully close to his family jewels if you catch my drift. Poor Milo! We got him cleaned up with one of our cloth diapers. Who knew they could be used to stop bleeding from raccoon bites. Maybe I should tell Tiny Tots, they can add it to their newsletter. We got Milo calmed down and I started to research about raccoon bites. After his last altercation we got him up to date on all of his shots, including rabies. After doing some research, we think he will be fine. Apparently the big thing to watch out for is the scratches themselves getting infected. If the attack had happened during the day, it would be a higher likelihood that the animal was rabid. Then we would definitely take him to the vet. So we are going to watch him for a few days just to be sure. But he seems fine. Eating fine and all that. But just to be on the safe side we gave him a bath last night to get everything cleaned out.
This morning we were having a great day. We napped in the morning and then headed out to Barefoot for coffee and a bagel. I had the Bob in the car to get her used to it, since that is what we are going to be using in Paris. The fact that we used the Bob today will be very important later:) Since she was doing so well, I figured I would take advantage of it and get a hike in. *Before I get to this story, let me be very honest. I was tempted to never tell anyone what happened on our hike. But I told myself that I was going to be totally open and honest with this blog and our experiences. So here goes.
She was pretty sleepy when we got to Rancho so I just put her in the Bob and away we went. We had been walking at a good pace for about 10 minutes when disaster struck. I am pretty confident that I will have nightmares about what happened today for the rest of my life.
There were bees/yellow jackets buzzing around her. And anyone that knows me, knows that I am deathly allergic to stings. I keep a epipen in the diaper bag but that only buys me about 20 minutes, so they freak me out to say the least. I was trying to shoo them away from her when all of a sudden the Bob was careening down the side of the trail. The trails at Rancho are fairly slanted and the Bob is just waaaay too smooth, apparently. Before I even knew what was happening I was throwing my body down the side of the hill to catch the stroller that was picking up speed quickly. Apparently I was also screaming in the process, which I didn't realize I was doing, because a woman that I had passed a while back came running around the corner to see if we were ok. At the point I had stopped the stroller and must have looked fairly bewildered looking around me, kind of wondering how that had just happened. She helped us back up the hill and got us brushed off. She mentioned that I should probably check for ticks. The funny thing was, Callie wasn't upset at all! Maybe she will be a thrill seeker. And she can tell her therapist how it all started! Luckily the shade was down on the Bob so she didn't get stuck with any branches on her little adventure. The woman that helped us was so sweet. She made sure we were ok and said "This can be our little secret."
At that point, Callie still seemed great and into a hike so we kept going. In retrospect, this was not the best decision. There were bees all over the place but we kept going. I thought Deer Hollow Farm was closer than it was. I told myself, just get to the farm. We made it to the farm and I took her out to look at the goats. I found some benches, so I thought I'll just feed her here and then we will head back. Again, the bees came out to play. So we booked it back to the parking lot. As in, running! So I wanted exercise today, I certainly got it. I was freaked out by all the bees but I just kept telling myself "Stop freaking out. Protect your daughter and just get to the fucking car." And we did without incident. I fed her and she promptly passed out. And back home we went. When we got home I dumped all of our clothes in the wash with hot water and the two of us got clean in some hot water as well. Baths always make her tired so is down for a nap. It wasn't really until then that I really reflected on what had happened today.
Remember when I questioned whether I had "maternal instincts"? No longer. Mama Bear in the house. I had absolute no thought for my own safety I just wanted to get to her any way I could. I'll be honest, I feel pretty much like a terrible mother right now for letting it happen but I know my reaction was the right one. I am really trying to forgive myself and find solace in the fact that I reacted and we are both ok. The call to Bill was a tough one. I was praying that he would still trust me with his daughter. Thankfully he does. He told me about how he thought about how stable strollers were on trails like that when he went on his dad's hike last month and that was with our other stroller. If she had been in our regular stroller it would've been much worse, it probably would've flipped over before I could've gotten to her.
So on one hand I feel like the shittiest mother ever and on the other I feel very lucky that we are all ok. I am horribly embarrassed yet I find hope in the fact that I was able to catch her.
But like I said, when I started this blog experiment I promised to be honest and that's what I've done. And I hope and pray that I will never have to make another post like this one today.

Preparing for Paris

That's right we are going to Paris in just a few weeks! We are hurriedly trying to get everything together. Bill found a great flight that is non-stop and we reserved early enough to snag the bulkhead seats with the travel bassinet. I have no idea how Miss Callie will do with the elevation, but given how sensitive she was on Pacheco Pass coming back from San Diego, I'm guessing it won't be pretty. Everything I have read on the subject says to nurse her on takeoff and landing or at the very least give her the pacifier.
I've started coming up with our list of what to bring. I keep debating on the stroller. We are planning on bringing the Bob jogging stroller, I'm just not sure how much we will use it with Callie actually in it. She has been all about being held so she can see people and what is going on. I'm guessing we will be using the Moby and the Ergo more than the Bob. The concerns with the Bob are storage when we are out and about, say at a cafe or something. The bob doesn't lock when it is folded up, so it may be tricky to keep it out of the way in small places. It also will most likely be problematic on the metro. But in my reearch, the buses reserve spots just for strollers so we may go that route instead.
On the upside, I won't ever have to manage all of this on my own. Grandma Tere is coming with us and I am so glad we will have her with us! It will be great to not be on our own when Bill is at his meetings. And I can't wait to share Paris with her! It was my favorite city on our honeymoon. I can't wait to go back to Notre Dame and Versailles.
The biggest hurdle is finding a place to stay. We obviously didn't have a whole lot of time to reserve accommodations ahead of time. And honestly, it is tough for me to research while I am at home with Callie. She doesn't give me a whole lot of time on tripadvisor, so we decided to get the professionals involved. We decided to go with our travel agents at Willow Glen Travel. They planned our honeymoon for us and it was in a word: unforgettable. We are hoping to stay in an apartment so we will be able to spread out a bit, not worry too much about a crying baby disturbing people and have access to a washer and dryer as well as a kitchen and a place to store pumped milk. So hopefully we will have a place to stay in the next day or so with any luck.
It felt so good to pass this one off so I could concentrate on other things like passports! Mine is all set from my trip to the UK last year. So today I spent most of the day getting Callie's documents in order. I went and got her birth certificate, filled in her passport application and even managed to snap a picture that should work! The photos are the tricky part! She has to have a white background (yet another use for our cloth diapers!), eyes open, alert, not crying, nothing in her mouth, around her face, supporting her head, etc. Clearly, someone who had never spent much time around infants came up with these rules! The really crazy part? Its good for 5 years!
So I laid her on the changing table with a cloth diaper under her head and it turned out pretty well!

The other thing I've been looking into is attitudes towards breastfeeding in Paris. From what I've been able to ascertain, for the most part, France has a bottlefeeding culture and it is pretty unusual to breastfeed past 6 months there. Its been a little tough to get a straight answer on the sights I've been reseraching because it always turns into a fight: "Why would you want to expose your breasts like that anyway? Peeing is natural too, but I wouldn't do it public." Which for the record is the stupidest argument against breastfeeding in public. But my absolute favorite was "I am from France and I refuse to breastfeed. I am not a cow." I almost died laughing.
The same de-evoling happened when I was trying to decide whether or not to bring the stroller or just bring baby carriers. I found responses like this one: "Strollers are such a nuisance. Why would you bring your baby on vacation anyway. Why don't you just come and say that you don't want to be away from them rather than trying to convince us that you hope to give them a cultural experience."
So ya, fun stuff out there! That's where we are at for the moment. More to come soon I imagine!

An Interesting Day

Today was my mom's birthday. So we got up and got at it! Callie slept really well last night! So we got up and headed to Whole Foods to pick up mom's birthday cake. Bill and I had a fairly humorous conversation about how important birthday cake is to my mom the previous night when I told him we needed to stop by and pick up the cake before heading over to mom's.
Bill: " I'm sure she can have strawberry shortcake at the strawberry festival." Me: "No. It must be cake. And it must be chocolate cake." I think he was simultaneously amused and confused. I explained that it was really important and I knew he didn't really understand but that was ok:)
Then it was off to Mom's house to take her to the strawberry festival in Watsonville.
Callie ready for her strawberry day!
The festival has definitely grown! We went a few years ago and it covered maybe a block. Not anymore! We walked around. Luckily there were lots of strollers around so we didn't have to worry too much about it being a big deal. We got our chocolate dipped strawberries, strawberry fresca and Bill pretty much went ballistic over the mexican food offerings. I must admit the tacos he picked up were pretty damn awesome. While we were walking around we spied this tent.


At first I just thought to myself: "How funny and clever!" I honestly thought they were just selling tshirts or something. But it was actually a child care tent with a quiet place to nurse and diaper changing facilities. It was awesome! When I walked up with my screaming girl, the volunteer calmly said: "Table for two, no wait!" Comfy chairs, nice temperature and snacks to boot! The volunteer gave me the whole back story on the group. The owner, Nonie, had been at an outdoor festival in Louisiana when she needed a cool place to feed her little one. It was really hot and crowded so she walked back to her car and had a canopy. She set up the canopy and the festival organizer came over and told her that she had "an unauthorized booth" and that just wasn't kosher. They told her if she didn't remove it she would be escorted out by police. She refused and tried to explain that she just needed a cooler place (it was realllly hot) to feed her kid. But they went and got the police anyway. That is when she set up Mom's Breastarant. She said one of the best things people can do to support them is to go to their facebook page and become a supporter since a lot of times they point festival organizers towards their page to show them that it is a needed/wanted service at outdoor events.
We finished up at the festival and drove back home. Mom was having dinner with my brother and we joined them. We had a lovely meal at La Paloma. Callie was so into my brother's voice! She was just totally hypnotized! She did great.

She is even starting to get really good with her hands!

We were hanging out outside the restaurant when I felt something in my hair. I thought it was just a leaf so I went to brush it out of my hair. But it was not a leaf. ooooh no. Not a leaf at all. Something poked me, so I pulled my hand away and noticed something in my finger. Uh oh. For a minute we weren't sure exactly what it was, but it hurt. I turned to Bill and said is this a stinger from a bee? We still weren't sure. Mom checked my head and didn't see anything in my hair, but we looked on the ground and saw the honeybee that had obviously just stung me. And...panic. I am VERY allergic to stings. The last time I got stung I swelled up like crazy and the doctor said that the next time I got stung I needed to get to the hospital ASAP. I had an epipen but we weren't sure how bad it was yet so we held off. We all kind of fumbled around with what to do with Callie. Finally I just told Bill, let's just all go. So we did. In the meantime, Bill had gotten the stinger out with a credit card, so the stinger was gone. My finger started going numb and hurt pretty good. It was starting to swell up as well. Although not nearly as bad as I had in the past, so I thought there was a chance it might be ok. We drove to O'Connor hospital and got checked in. None of the employees seemed in any particular hurry with any of the patients in the waiting room. I mumbled to Bill "I'm glad I wasn't bleeding to death." We had to wait in line for a good 5 minutes while the receptionist was typing in some obviously very important paper work. No hurry, just freaking out here in line. No don't stop typing, its fine. Finally she gestures to come forward and we explain that I am very allergic to stings and I've just been stung. Again, not concerned. More concerned with our insurance card. We give her our information and we are asked to sit down. They call us up and I think:"Ok! We are going inside." Oh no. Meet with nurse to take my height and weight and seemingly useless questions: "How old are you? When was your last period?" I almost laughed out loud. I told her I had just had a baby. To which she responded: "Are you using birth control?" And what does this have to do with my damn finger? Anyway, we finish with the nurse. In the meantime my mom has brought Callie in who is starting to get hungry. We are asked to sit and wait again. We wait probably 15 minutes when we decided to ask a nurse if it was safe to breastfeed Callie with venom in my system. To which she says"You know, I just don't know. Hmmm. That is an interesting question." No shit. That's why I asked. She is still just fumbling with what an interesting question I have just asked when I asked her if there was someone she could ask for the answer. "I'll go ask one of the doctors." Fantastic. She comes back and says it should be fine. Hooray. So we were able to make Callie happy in the meantime. Finally they call us in. My finger had stopped throbbing and swelling. The doctor told us to use benadryl. I told him that I was nursing. He gave me an somewhat annoyed look and said "Well if you have a reaction you are just going to have to stop breastfeeding." Awesome, thanks. So we spent our $150 deductible on "try some over the counter antihistimine that could possibly dry up my milk supply."
Anyway, after all this time in the waiting room we all figured that I was just fine but we got another prescription for an epipen while we were there. He said he would write it and then promptly forgot all about it, twice. The discharge guy came by with our paperwork to sign. Bill mentioned that we were waiting on the prescription. Discharge guy looked very confused. So he tracked down the doctor and reminded him about the epipen. Finally we were out the door.
We finally got to go back to mom's and have the chocolate cake. It was so nice to relax. Callie was happy and fed and Jack the dog was soooo happy to have Callie to lick all over. Apparently, she tastes delicious! Mom explained the importance of birthday cake in her family and I think Bill now understands what the big deal is.
So you might say we had a very "interesting" day!