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Posts tagged ‘mother of a 12 month old’

A Day In The Life – Mom of a 12 Month Old

Hear child stirring and grumbling at 7:45. Husband is out of bed doing whatever husbands do before going to work at 8. I roll back over and ignore my human alarm until 8. I’d really like it if he slept in until 8, level with self that by ignoring him I’m teaching him to sleep in. Know deep down this is not the case. Get child at 8. Change diaper while trying to hold my wiggling ninja and keep him from flipping over. He hasn’t sit still for a diaper change in months. I’d assume having a soggy wet night time diaper removed would be heaven, but I guess that level of logic is not achieved yet. Smear A&D on to make future poop removal easier. Snap up pajamas, wonder why pajamas have so many damn snaps. Return to bedroom to nurse. Child nurses for maybe 15 minutes while I read various things on my phone. Posted pictures of his party on facebook recently and someone commented that they would like to see a video of him walking. Having taken one yesterday with Scorsese-like precision, I upload it to Facebook and tag the asker, you know, to look like I have an excuse to post a video of him walking. I tend to overdirect and stage things that I know I’m posting for others to see. Wonder if everyone is that crazy or just me. Enjoy likes rolling in. Let child play and roam for a little bit. 9am rolls around. Gather child in arms and guide dogs out into the back yard. Thankful neighbors do not have their dogs out too. Go inside and portion out dog and cat food. Feed animals. Let child play a little more. He opts to stay in living room and play with stacking cups and fabric blocks. I view likes on video posted to facebook. Admire video some more and decide to count the amount of steps he takes. The answer is 10.

9:30, time for breakfast. Today will be a Yo Toddler organic strawberry banana yogurt/cereal blend cup. They’re pretty tasty. I wiggle the cup to get my son’s attention, then beckon him to follow me to the bedroom. He does, but he isn’t pleased to have to get there under his own momentum. I sit down in my computer chair while child stands off to my side, holding my leg. For some reason this is where we always eat breakfast, with him standing next to me while I sit. Nurse before giving him the yogurt cup. I spoon him his yogurt. He finishes, but shortly after crawls out the door way and spits some of it up. Spit up has become fairly uncommon, but still happens. My son has been a spitter since his first day home. Sit on the floor with him while he plays for a little bit more. Telltale poop sign, I hear him grunting and smell a stinky butt. Poop after breakfast is a 50/50 shot. It comes either post breakfast or lunch and tends to change after a week or so. This week it has been breakfast. Struggle to change diaper because he will not stop twisting. Pray I do not allow him to fling it everywhere. Achieve clean butt. More A&D. It is almost nap time at 10:30. He slept in a little bit today (normally he awakens at 7:30) and fear he will not nap easily. Throw his blankie over my shoulder and put on a lullaby on his simba sound machine. We sway together to the music simply to indicate “this will be nap time”. It is something we have done since he was about 4 months old. Place him down in the crib. Cover with his blankie. Crank mobile. Change lullaby to sea sounds and leave, with door slightly ajar. Sounds clear.

He does not fuss much at all. Hear the same fucking dog that gets left outside every day this week during nap time. Dog is loud and obnoxious. Hope he doesn’t wake my son up. Wonder why there are so many dog-ignoring assholes in my neighborhood. If I can hear your dog, so can you, stop sharing your problems with everyone in the neighborhood and take a little responsibility. Decide if I would like to nap or watch Futurama DVD commentaries from season 8. Opt for DVD. Get going. It’s around 10:50. Peak in on quiet child. To my horror he is just sitting there silently playing with his blanket. Leave and check again 10 minutes later. He has fallen asleep. Dog has been let back inside. DVD watching commences. Watch 3 remaining episodes. Son wakes up before I can watch special features. It’s 12:30. Immediately regret decision not to nap. I feel like shit.

So begins afternoon phase. If day with a baby were a roller coaster, this is the part right after the first hill. Everything leading up to this has been a slow and quiet ascent. Prepare for non stop action until bed time. I change his diaper and nurse him again. We have to get lunch ready. I slaved over a batch of zucchini quinoa Parmesan bites the night before. Place 2 on a plate with a wedge of avocado and open a cup of mandarin oranges. Drain and rinse, there’s too much sugar in the syrup. I read labels of everything I buy and wished fruit didn’t have to come in syrup or juice. WHY CAN’T THEY JUST USE WATER? Figure the rinsing helps. Split cup, half goes on his sectioned plate, half gets dumped in my mouth. I make an avocado grilled cheese for myself. Feel guilty that I feed my child healthy food though I’m addicted to comfort food. Say it’s for the best. Say it’s not really an issue, I’m slim anyway. Feel slightly less guilt. Unfortunately I can not recall what my son was doing while I was making lunch. I believe he was clinging to my leg and whining. Place food near high chair that was left in living room from night before. Snatch child, wash his hands, and grab a bib from his drawer. Sit him in his high chair and begin transferring bites of food from his dinosaur section plate that I got on clearance at Toys R Us to his tray. Juggle this with eating my sandwich. Watch @Midnight from the previous night on the DVR. This is a lunch time ritual for us, though he can’t see the TV. Finish lunch at the same time.

Decide whether or not to leave house today. Decide not to. Decide to fold basket of clothing washed the day before. Every Sunday is laundry day. I do all of my husband’s clothing in 1 load and my son’s and mine in another. I don’t understand the laundry piles other people speak of. I get it all done in one day. Folded husband’s yesterday, for some reason did not find time to fold second load until today. Folding clothes with a loose baby is an exercise in futility. Put on an episode of SNL from the DVR. It is the one where Kristen Wigg hosts. Not a huge fan of hers but I watch it anyway. Takes 4x as long to fold clothes since child crawls through piles, comes to pick folded items up/throw them behind him, picks unfolded items from basket and throws them behind him. While folding one pile he knocks over another. It’s one of my greatest frustrations. Finish folding somehow. Know that I can’t carry it all to his bedroom without leaving some behind. What gets left behind will be completely destroyed by the time I get back. Decide to try a bold strategy. Put son in his Baby Einstein jumper that I got on Craigslist for 20 dollars. He immediately screams and cries, something he does any time he is placed in a restraint of any kind, even one as fun as a jumper. I carry on with moving the folded clothes from the living room down the hall to son’s room. By the time I come back to grab more he is happily bouncing and vocalizing. Mimic his bouncing to his delight. Finish putting clothes away. Release child from bouncy prison.

Remember that son turns 1 tomorrow and I’ve been putting off getting my “free” insurance covered breast pump, since I had one gifted to me anyway and didn’t need a second one. Figure I can sell it on craigslist or ebay. Snicker at the thought of fraud. Reason that it’s not fraud and plenty of moms get them for free without ever intending to breastfeed. Google company I had heard of locally that does breast pumps. Get number and call them. Son has crawled into room and will not stop droning on with his signature yell. On hold a while. Retrieve wallet and insurance card. Lady finally picks up and has a thick southern accent. I imagine her to be overweight with short red hair for some reason. She asks me a series of questions, and doesn’t listen to the answers since I have to repeat myself several times. I walk from room to room to try and avoid my son’s droning. He follows and will not stop the noise. Puts me on hold again once hearing that my son turns one tomorrow and is not being born tomorrow (what she assumed despite me not phrasing it that way at all). Processes all my information, can’t find Dr. under her phone number I provided. I look up the number for the main office and give her that. She is able to find my Dr.’s information now. I wonder how stupid the system is to not have all office numbers available as a reference, what if I didn’t know any better? Assume woman on the phone is mentally challenged since she can’t listen. Assume she is misspelling everything I tell her despite using syntax like “A-B-F as in FRANK, so there is no confusion. Call ends. I know immediately nothing will get processed in time, and I know it’s 100% this woman’s fault. I don’t know who she is but I hate her and her whole family. Text husband’s aunt about his CPAP machine picking up the smell of our glade plug in. She owns and operates sleep clinics and is the reason we have the machine in the first place. Husband says the smell gives him headaches. I can barely smell the scent on his machine. Get a text back with vinegar cleaning instructions. Know that won’t really fix the problem but make a mental note to clean the machine later. Son has managed to empty at least 3 drawers of clothing. I’ll put it back later.

It is now close to 3pm. Son is droning on and on. Remember that the couch needs a new blanket covering since my husband stole the blanket that was originally there. He claims he sleeps better with it over the fuzzy blanket he normally sleeps with. Remember seeing perfect couch blanket at local store just this past weekend. Kick myself for not buying it then. Decide despite saying I would not leave the house today, I leave the house to get the blanket. Reason that I can be back by 4pm, just a short trip won’t be so bad. Get son in car. Realize I left wallet inside because I took it out to get the insurance card. Run back inside to find wallet. Can’t find it. Go back to car to get son since this will take longer than 30 seconds. Find wallet in dirty clothes basket. No idea how it got there. Wonder where insurance card is. It will turn up eventually. Put son back in car. Drive to store. Feels like an eternity, this drive seems longer than usual. Get to store, make B line for blankets find the one I remember seeing. 12.99 for twin, 14.99 for queen. 16.99 for king. Incorrectly think a king will be longer than my last blanket and opt for king. Store normally has a long line but today it’s not so bad. Blank expression on my face. I am exhausted. Buy blanket, leave store. Load child and take a slightly faster route home. Wonder why I didn’t take that way the first time. Home at 4:15. Jeep is indicating it needs gas. Next drivers problem.

Change diaper. Husband mentioned that I didn’t have to make dinner, he would eat left over chicken wings from the past weekend’s party for our son’s birthday. A nice gesture…but I still have to make dinner, just not for him. Lay down with son and nurse. It’s his nap option time. Ever since he was 9 months old he started rebelling against a second nap unless it was super close to bed time. I lay down with him around 4:30 every day and nurse. Maybe 10% of the time he will doze off. I still like giving him the option. It’s the only way he will lay still long enough to fall asleep in the afternoon. He does not take one today. Give up after 15 minutes. It’ s close to 5, time to start dinner. Decide to make turkey quinoa taco bake. It’s something we can eat off of for days. Let son into kitchen. He is still in a yelling/droning mood. He does this quite often for long periods of time. It’s just a phase I tell myself. He gets into literally everything. He has a drawer just for him of plastic spoons, spatulas, Tupperware, various things I decide to put in there for him. He empties it, and just about every other cabinet he can get his mitts on. Curse husband for procrastinating with installing cabinet locks. Instantly regret making taco bake, it takes forever. Thankfuly I cooked quinoa night before for zucchini parmesan bites. Son will not stop droning, and he has decided to empty the metal pans from under the oven. They are super loud and annoying. Brain hurts. Get to the part of recipe that calls for tomato sauce. Know I had 2 cans. Swear I only used 1 before. Can’t find second can. Go crazy looking for it. Concede it’s gone forever. Contemplate running to store nearby. Can not mentally handle leaving the house right now. Break down and use pizza sauce instead. Close enough. Combine ingredients and bake.

Feed child graham sticks and feel bad that dinner is taking so long. Take dogs out again. Neighbors dog it out unattended and barks at mine. I can not handle the noise anymore. Dogs finish up and we go inside. Have some time before taco bake is done. Throw frozen spinach in steam bag. Huge hunk breaks off in hand and scatters all over counter. Salvage what I can and sweep the rest onto ground for dogs. They refuse to eat it. Just leave it there. Wonder if steam bag is BPA free. Assume it is not. Feel guilty. Make mental note to email company. Remember I have to wash CPAP machine. Later. Get back to son’s room. Clothing is still all over the floor. Put it back, but not neatly. Reason that I’m planning on reorganizing drawers as soon as I get suitable vacuum seal bags. The ones I have now are garbage. Flop on floor while son crawls all over me. Google 12 month old portion sizes. Have misplaced fears of son becoming obese despite only being in the 18th percentile for weight. Find site that is all about the evils of baby food jars. Feel guilty. Taco bake is almost done, just needs foil off for 10 minutes. Scoop some out and put it on a plate to cool for son. Remember that new blanket needs to be washed before using it. Grab blanket and pillow from couch and put items in the washer downstairs. Come back upstairs. Get son ready for dinner. Take taco bake out of the oven and prepare a plate for myself. We sit down to eat. He eats whatever I put in front of him and never seems to get full. Throw chunks of spinach on his tray while I wolf down my tacos. We finish dinner. I take tray and plates to be cleaned.

Change into pajama pants. Find insurance card in the pocket from earlier. We sit down on the floor, but son is still in a droning mood. Put on SNL episode. It’s the best of Mike Myers. I’ve seen it 100 times. I guess I’ll make it 101. Flip through facebook. Enjoy likes and comments on video posted. See favorite band has posted a new song. But it’s not my son’s birthday my mind thinks. Oh duh, it is…basically. Knew band was releasing song on the 21st and pegged it to birthday. Couldn’t fathom birthday being tomorrow. I mute TV and listen to song. Song is by band with heavy Russian accents but I latch on to the chorus lyrics “you don’t have to be strong enough….”. Groove pretty hard. Feel instantly better. Decide to open Alphabet Train son got for his birthday. Needs wheels put on with screwdriver. Can’t handle that right now. Aint nobody got time for that. Play with it anyway. Place blocks in the top and they shoot out the back. Son sees me do it and he tries to do it himself. Proud mama.

It is close to 7pm bath time. I get his bath drawn and pour his “last” bottle of breastmilk. My supply has been tanking and I decided to give up pumping overnight to keep it up. Bottle is only 2oz. Get into tub with son. He dunked my phone yesterday, caused it to break for a few hours, but it’s fine now. For the first time ever he seems very disinterested in bath play and more interested in sucking on my boobs. I find it quite cute. Husband comes home from work and comes into bathroom to say hi. Laughs at son breastfeeding in the tub. I soap up his noggin and ask husband why the drain doesn’t work. I know the answer, I just want to indicate that I’m tired of it and need it fixed ASAP. I’m going to fix it this weekend, I promise. Our house needs a lot of repairs….a LOT. This feels like a small victory. We will see if it actually gets fixed though. Struggle to rinse noggin, there is no child on the planet that understands “tilt your head back”. It will always sound like a foreign language to them. Reach for Earths Best training toothpaste and finger brush. Child gets excited and licks his lips. The flavor is apple and pear and he apparently thinks it’s a treat. Tiny blob on brush and present to child, who opens his mouth like a baby bird. I scrub away at the 2 bottom teeth, get the entire mouth, and try to brush the one fang coming in up top. Wonder why my child’s top teeth are coming in out of order. Worry. Hand him washrag to “rinse”, he sucks water off of it. Husband goes to eat chicken wings. Get out of tub and towel myself off and get dressed. Grab child from tub and towel him off. Bring him over to the lightswitch. Turn the light off I ask. He reaches out, fiddles with the switch, and turns it off. Proud mama. We have been practicing the light turning off task since he was 6 months old. He completely understands it now.

Head to bedroom for jamies and diaper. Put on overnight diaper. Wonder if there’s really a difference between overnights and regular diapers that boast 12 hour protection. Decide it’s probably just a marketing scam. Decide not to buy anymore overnights when this pack is up. Remember CPAP needs to be cleaned. Do it later. Put on pajamas. Again curse pajamas for having too many snaps. Carry son to my bedroom for his final nurse. There won’t be much left since he sucked some out during bath time. We nurse anyway. When he won’t love on the bosom anymore I present the last bottle. He sucks it dry and won’t stop. I think he’s just in a sucking mood today. I snuggle him close to me and move into his bedroom. I turn on the overhead stars despite there being too much ambient light to see them. It’s a habit from winter time. We do not have darkening shades. Son whines a bit, but goes down quickly after the bedtime mantra I have said to him since his first nights alone in the crib at 6 weeks. Goodnight P, I love you, sleep tight, I’ll see you in the morning. Press same sound button as nap time on the simba sound soother on my way out. I don’t hear any complaints. It is 8pm.

Go back to my bedroom, where the lights are off and it’s much darker because of the shade tree outside the windows. Flop on bed. Remember CPAP needs cleaning. Do it later. Husband comes in in shirt and underwear saying he needs to take a shower. Flops down next to me anyway. We get to talking about my day, about his day. We both vent about stuff. I vent about dumb people on facebook, the obese 5 year old news story I read, how I try so hard to be a good mom that it drives me nuts. He vents about his workplace, mostly about how he tries to whip his crew of men into shape. There’s a reason my husband is their leader, he’s one of the best workers they have. Apparently most others are lazy good for nothings. Time flies in our discussion. I lay my leg over his without thinking. He pipes up “I really like it when you drape yourself over me, makes me feel like you actually want me, that you love me.” Feel guilty that I don’t show husband enough love. He has his flaws, there are days I want to claw his eyes out, but today is not one of them, because he is simply talking to me and letting me vent and not arguing. We talk until 8:40. I encourage him to take his shower. I know what husband would like and is in the mood for. Like 99% of the time, I am not in the mood. It’s something I wish I could fix, but I just don’t have the same drive I used to. Husband is a physical, touchy feely lover. If I don’t show him love in a physical way he gets very sad and pent up. Know what I have to do. Want to make him happy, just don’t want to be touchy. Husband finishes shower and lays on the couch silently. I was correct in my assumption. Spend some time with husband intimately. He is visibly happier. Mission accomplished. He retires to his mancave in the basement and I decide to take a hot bath and have a big chocolate chip cookie my mother brought me from Amish country. It is now 9:30.

Remember CPAP needs cleaning. Decide to bring jug of vinegar into bathroom with me. Disassemble CPAP and fill sink with vinegar and water. Dunk all parts and let them sit for 30 minutes in the solution. Watch some videos in the tub on my Galaxy Tab 2. Watch video about the obese 5 year old. Watch another video, a vice documentary about reborn babies. Totally get where these women are coming from. All the beauty and “fun” of a newborn with out all the bad parts. Get out of tub half way through to rinse and dry CPAP parts. They still have a scent to them, the scent was never bad to begin with. Get back into tub. Finish documentary. Husband comes in asking when I will be done because he has to poop. I tell him I’m done and start to get out. Dry off, get dressed. Put CPAP back together. Turn it on and let it air out a little. Get blanket from dryer. Put it on the couch. Have to fold some of it back because there’s too much fabric in the wrong place. Take dogs out for the last time. Brush and floss teeth. Lay in bed and watch a little TV. It’s around 11. Husband comes in. We go to sleep.

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