A Tale of Two Pumps

It was the best of times it was the worst of times.  Well, not the worst, but perhaps, the "busiest" of times at least.  Yesterday in work I was booked solid with meetings from 9:30am through 3:30pm.  My typical routine now that I am down to pumping 3x per day, is to pump just once while in work, at around 2 pm.  Yesterday's schedule was looking like it would make that quite difficult.  Much to my delight, My 1pm meeting ended half an hour early, so at 1:30 I took advantage and went off to seek pump time in the room I have been using since I came back to work.
I was so happy that this worked out. You see,  earlier in the week for the first time, I totally forgot to pump at all during the day.  When I realized this via significant discomfort as I was stuck in a 5-6pm meeting, there was really nothing I could do about it until after, and I certainly didn't want a repeat of that day as I am still suffering some uncomfortable consequences of that.
So I pumped, and finished up just in time to go to my 2pm meeting without even stopping back at my desk-- since I am the only one who uses that room to pump right now, and it locks, I leave all of my stuff in there until the end of the day when I routinely retrieve it.

Well 5:15pm comes and I'm ready to pack up.  I open my desk drawer to get my key to the pump room and...no key.  Cue heart sinking and panic setting in.  I review the day in my head...I went straight from pumping to my next meeting, didn't drop the key off in my office.  OMG.  Pump+milk+KEY is locked in the room.  I then proceeded to stalk the building in search of anyone else who I knew/I hoped might have the key.  HR, already gone.  Building Services (who I KNOW has spares) already gone.  Receptionist, no key.  Cleaning people, no key.

Defeat.

My options at this point were:
- Wait until tomorrow morning to pump when I could get back here and find someone to give me the spare key.  Ok, not really an option since if I didnt pump for 19 hours I'd probably explode.
-Pump with my manual pump, one side at a time.  Oooof, I dont even know if it would work anymore, I only used to use it for a little 'help' before nursing AJ in the first few months.  Maybe it wouldnt be strong enough now.
-Buy a new pump.  Well at $300 a pop for the one I have, also not a great option.

In the end, I went to Buy Buy Baby and bought a single electric pump so at least I could plug it in, for a considerably cheaper price.  Further rationalized by the notion that I can take it to Vegas with me instead of lugging my big one.  But when I got home I decided to give the manual one a whirl anyway, and what do you know, while it was slower for sure, it got the job done.  Lots of panic and being near tears for the night (I had a dinner to go to after work of course) but it all worked out.

This morning though, I did have to venture back to building services  to ask for the spare key.  Having to ask men for a key to the nursing room makes me automatically think they are looking at my boobs, or will look at my boobs every time I see them from now on.  And I'm pretty sure it  true.  But I got the key, am reunited with my own key, and my pump, and yesterdays milk stash.  Phew.

Excellence

I got a very nice surprise in work last week.  My boss had nominated me and I was selected for our company's 'award for excellence'.  The award is given quarterly and is designed to recognize contributions and achievements over time.  It came with a physical award that I can keep on my desk, and a few other nice things, like a very nice write up on our company's intranet.  I feel very flattered that I received it, and was probably blushing and shaking with the president presented it to me.  This experience also showed me very clearly how bad I am at taking compliments.  ("SEE??" says Joe)

I think what I am in most disbelief about is the timing of it.  I received this in a year that has been my most challenging yet, life wise.  When balance has become my new goal and I practically race out of the building at the end of the day for a chance to see AJ before bedtime.  I'm not trying to succeed any less, but I certainly have a different sense of priorities, understandably.  I've been very lucky that, while returning to work has meant sacrifices (in time), it hasn't been unmanageable so far.  Busy weeks are tempered by less busy weeks, most of the time.  Working late several days in a row usually means then working from home several days in a row if I can.

I hope that the balance I have found over the past 6 months is something I will be able to continue, since every day AJ is becoming more and more of a little person.  This morning Joe merely put his jacket on and AJ started to wave bye-bye!  And he has started to be able to identify objects "AJ go get the cup" and he gets it!  He also says "cah" repeatedly .  We have no idea what it means.  First we thought it was 'cat' since he says it when he looks at his books.  Then we thought it was 'cup' since he can get his cup.  But frankly he says 'cah' at just about every object in the house, so we're just going with it :-)  More than anything I hope that someday, with all of the juggling and balancing that is a necessary evil, AJ would also give me an award for mommy excellence.   I can't imagine feeling more successful than that.

The Hangover

Today I am sporting a fierce 4 day weekend hangover.  Not from overindulging (or indulging at all) in spiked cider this Thanksgiving weekend, but from 4 glorious uninterrupted days with my little sweetie, and after 4 days of all-AJ-all-the-time I am missing him like crazy.  When the nanny came this morning, he wasn't exactly resistant, but he also didn't crawl to her with the same vigor that he would on a normal week.

This weekend was also fun because we got to see AJ in so many new situations-- at a big Thanksgiving dinner table--where he was almost the loudest one, around other babies--where we stopped him before he could crawl on top of his adorable, but unsuspecting little friend, and at a Christmas 'fair' type thing where 40 Christmas trees nor Santa himself could impress him!  So much fun to watch him have these new experiences, and I wish I could introduce him to things like that each and every day.

Has it gotten easier for me since I came back to work in May?  Somewhat.  Some days I do what I need to do like clockwork, but days like today I still worry.  About whether he will go down for his naps ok, whether he will want to be held all day, whether she will recognize the new 'games' he likes to play, like 'roll the tangerine across the room' or 'keep dropping the rubber blocks on the tile'.  Those are my favorites too :-)

Baby I'm Amazed

AJ is 9 months old.  He is now as old as it took to make him!  Its no exaggeration that I am amazed at him every day, and months 7-9 have really been incredible.  Just in the past few weeks he has become even more communicative.  He mimics us, he does "SO BIG!", he waves bye-bye, and today my heart nearly melted when he gave me a kiss!  Well, a "kiss" to AJ is opening his mouth and putting it on my cheek, but still, we have a tiny human who responds with this action when I say "give mommy a kiss" and that totally blows my mind.  

Some days I just look at him and think that I don't know what I have done in my life to deserve such happiness.  Though I can recall the actions that filled mine and Joe's days before AJ came along, I can't recall what it was like to not feel this love that now overflows my heart.  When I get this way, I swear that the sappy pregnancy hormones never actually left me, but I think thats part of what makes a mom a mom. 

I just can't wait to see what is next!

weekend warriors

What a weekend!  After a full week of dinner meeting for work, I successfully re-introduced myself to AJ this weekend, and it was so much fun!   I realize every day what a good kid he is, and it makes me nervous about any future babies; we can't possibly get this lucky twice!

I had been absolutely dreading turning the clocks back.  It was not uncommon for AJ to start stirring in the morning by 6am, which would mean after time changes that our day would start at 5am.  Well, we survived so far.  The day was a little off, but this morning he woke up at 5:45, which, all things considered really wasn't the worst that could have happened.  This weekend we also saw our first tooth!  Its just barely through his gum, but its there, and he's feeling it.  He doesn't appear to be in too much pain, but um, I wasn't aware of the very scary so much drool that he's CHOKING on it!  When he is laying on his back while I'm changing him, he could do voiceovers for Darth Vader, his breathing sounds so awful because its just so gooey in there.  A few times he has just started coughing and choking while playing because it goes down the wrong pipe.  Poor kid.

He also has laser like focus on any item that he knows he is not supposed to have.  The remote, the phone, his monitor, the fan, wires, paper, plants, shoes---  oh my gosh he is fascinated by shoes.  I know this makes it sound like I have not childproofed one square foot of my home, but we have.  Its just that when we're holding him and walking around, he spots one of these and tries to lunge out of our arms for it.  His favorite activity of all though, is taking two of his plastic stacking rings-- one in each hand, and crawling (rings in hand) ove rto the tile par of the floor, and then repeatedly throwing the rings onto the floor.  Crawl, throw, find, throw, find, throw.  He loves the sound it makes!  I'm not sure if its a coincidence that our tenant has let us know she will be moving out by the end of the year....

In addition to chasing speedy gonzales and mopping up drool puddles, the other physical activity I actually managed this weekend was yoga.  I had gotten a Groupon for a new Bikram place that opened up nearby and finally got to use it.  Before getting pregnant and before hurting my hip,  I was doing Bikram a few times a week for about 6 months.  I was finally getting pretty good at most of the poses and tolerating the heat.  It had been about a year and a half since my last class and oh man... today I can barely move.  Picking up AJ was like a feat of superhuman strength since turning over in bed practically took a miracle.  I'll be aiming for 2x a week now.  It felt really amazing to do something physical again.  And like always with Bikram I leave class feeling an amazing balance of having gotten my butt kicked and having just woken up from a very restful nap.  I'm not sure it would be my preferred activity if I had all the choice in the world, but it will work for me for now.

And now, its back to work, where hopefully someone will bring me lunch so I don't have to alarm my hamstrings and actually get up out of my chair.

What Success Means To Me

Did you ever have to write that essay in school about What Success Means to You?  I think we all had to write that.  I'm not going to write about success today.  Today I am going to write about what "Gross" means to me.  What I realized from motherhood is that my definition of "gross"-- much like one's definition of success-- has changed significantly over time.  Specifically in the past 8 months.  No, make that the last 17 months.

The thing is, I don't know what is actually gross anymore.  Its really hard to gross me out these days.  Ok moldy food will still do it every time, but I realized that since pregnancy began and AJ was born, there is really very little that makes me say "ew".

Here are some things that I cannot believe I now find even marginally acceptable:

• When I leave the house to run an errand and realize I have a spit up stain on my shoulder.  
• And then keep going.
• Wiping drool off of AJs chin/face/hands/clothes with my bare hands
• And then wiping it on my clothes
• Literally picking the boogers out of his nose when there is a crusty one stuck to the edge
• Describing "crusty boogers" stuck to the edge of a nose
• The very many--and precise-- adjectives I use to describe poop. 
• In public
• Not necessarily using my inside voice
• The long drip of milk that has dried on AJs wall next to his glider that I keep forgetting to wash off.

These things are just part of life now, and I can't not smile at them.  And aside from my clothes not looking so pristine, and the fact that you may not want to shake my hand anymore, I guess I figure, he is a baby, how yucky can his stuff really be? Some day he will be move into real boyhood, with dirt and worms and smelly [insert sport here] gear.  And then I think I will have a new definition of gross once again.

AJ was here

I have the legs of a 7 year old.  I literally think that 7 year old Danielle actually had FEWER bruises on her legs than I do now, and that's saying something because I was one clumsy kid.  From the knees down, my shins are littered with black and blues in various stages of purple.  I guess this is from crawling around on the floor with AJ and accidentally landing on his toys.
The best, though, are the tiny almost perfectly circular bruises that I have on my upper thighs.  One might wonder how one gets tiny almost perfectly circular bruises on one's upper thighs...  My son has very pointy toes and he loves to stand up when he is on my lap.
I still feed him in the glider, which sits next to a window.  After he is about 80% done with each bottle he takes a little break.  On his break he climbs up mommy and stands, toes pointed, on my lap, his little arms perched on the windowsill.  Its adorable really.  He gets into that position then smiles like a proud little monkey and he bang bang bangs his hands on the windowsill and the window.  He stares at the trees, maybe he sees a little of his reflection too.  Bottom line, he loves it and the kid seriously thinks he can walk.  I keep asking him, as he gets fingerprints all over the window, if he is planing his escape route.  I'm on to you little buddy!