A letter to Imri

My sweet boy,

You are now nearly 8 and a half months old and I can't believe the constant transformations I see in you.

You are sweet - yes, all mommies believe their babies are sweet but you truly are a sweet-tempered and happy/sunshiny boy. You love to laugh, you smile so much. People who see you in a store can't help but smile at your beaming face and reach out to you.
Nothing delights you more than mommy holding you as you jump and jump on the couch. I see shades of the boy you are becoming ... a beautiful boy I see jumping on beds and moonbounces and everything else he can find.

Imri, you are the most alert baby I've ever known. You look at everything, stare at everything. I wonder what it is you see, how your mind processes each and every new thing that comes your way. You are entranced by cars and their movement - also by our cats and their movement. Some of your biggest smiles happen when Simcha comes into the room.

You love books. I mean ... you adore them. Chewing them, flipping their pages, staring at the pictures intently. You look up at me as I read to you and laugh and try to touch my lips.

Words are coming to you now. I swear I heard you said "cat" the other day when Simcha came meandering by. Your favourite word is "da DA da" said in that beautiful small voice. You beam at me when you say a "word" and I repeat it back to you. Such happiness - you are a happy child, beloved boy.

You show strong preferences when it comes to foods and aren't afraid to tell me so loudly - we've started yoghurt and you love it. You love gnawing on fresh peaches and other fruit but get frightened and "choke" on their texture. You were less enthused of the broccoli/chicken jarred food but seem to love the apple/chicken thingie. Yes, I'm feeding you jarred baby food which makes me squirm, but before long you'll be eating table foods too ... if only a tooth or two would make an appearance. Lots of drool, no teeth. I know they're coming. But this works well with the breastfeeding thang - which I'm still doing, albeit less of now.

Beloved boy, you're still not sleeping well at night - I know you want to cuddle and nurse with mommy all night, but it's not working for mommy, my love. Not for a lack of desire - but because we live in a country that doesn't support mommies staying at home with their babies. I have to work - and need to sleep.
If we lived in Canada, I'd still be home with you - and I'd have another 4 months to go. It still breaks my heart a little each time I drop you off at the daycare.

You haven't figured out the knack of crawling yet - you rock back and forth and end up moving backwards. You love standing and "walking" when mommy holds your hands. You get SO excited when you walk, it's incredible to see - as if you can sense that you are on the verge of freedom. You try to stand when you can but you haven't quite gotten the concept of pulling yourself up yet.

The jumperoo is still one of your favourite toys and I will mourn when you are too big for it - and the day is getting close now. 22 lbs at your last doctor's visit! You are such a big boy - and you are starting to look more little-boy-like now, and less babyish, which brightens my day and hurts my heart a little, all at the same time.

You have so many toys and books! Mommy can't help herself, especially at yard sales. She got you a toy bus, truck and train yesterday (all for 2 dollars! Your mommy loves yard-saling) because of your seeming fascination with all things that move - and sure enough, you love that bus. The truck and train will wait till you're a little older, I think.

You get such a big smile when mommy starts to sing the "bushel and a peck" song - it seems to be your favourite out of all the songs I sing. Such a big smile and you even give kisses, sometimes. They are the sweetest kisses I've ever known.

The bath seems to be a source of fascination - you've really taken to it and love the different toys that show up in your tub. Banging toys together is a favoured pastime now as is splashing in the water. For a boy who didn't always like water, you sure do love that duck tub now!

I love nursing you to sleep, Imri sweet. Be it breast or bottle, I love watching your face become tranquil with food and comfort, the way you snuggle down into the crook of my arms, the way your breathing changes and slows, the little sounds of contentment you make as you drift off. I stand at the side of your crib and watch you breathe, trying to mark the moment, the beauty of your face in my mind forever.

Even on the most difficult and exhausting days, I love being with you, Imri. You make it all worthwhile. I never knew I could love like this ... I never knew you would be so incredibly and utterly wonderful. You are more than I ever dared ... no, more than I ever knew existed - to hope for. I get afraid sometimes, sweet boy - afraid that this near-perfection can't last - but then I look at your sweet face and am reassured.

Because even now at this young age, you amaze me. And I know deep in my heart that is never going to change. You are very very deeply loved, my Imri sweet.

Sleep - the ongoing saga

Is it only me that fails the word verification thingies that blogger (and other sites) use to prevent spambots? I'll get something like mqwkvgewyfs. I type it in carefully, hit the "submit" button and ... I get another jumble of letters with "please try again" or some such. Some days I feel like such a loser.

Anyway, the sleep thing continues to defy us. At most, Imri will sleep between 1.5-3 hours at a stretch. When he does sleep a whole three hours, the skies open and angels weep for joy. Of course, that could also just be my brain, delighting in REM sleep once again. Wow. Three whole hours is such a source of joy - it's kind of like the rejoicing that commences when I see that the gas station nearby is selling gasoline for only $2.85 a gallon. Who woulda thunk that I'd ever get excited over either of those things?

I did read some Weissbluth, a recommendation of some wise ladies and ... we just can't do it. CIO, or crying it out, just won't work for our family. At least not right now. I did take away some useful pointers like "bedtime doesn't have to be exactly at the same time every night" and so on which helps, as I don't like being rigid ... but we shall see. Imri did sleep for a decent chunk of time (about two hours, so no angels singing) last night but that could also be because he hadn't really slept since close to his noon nap at daycare. Most of the remainder of the night, he spent in bed with me. And I actually did sleep for a large (all things are relative, boys and girls) part of the night, until I was awoken by a fairly fierce thunder storm at 4am. Ah well.

Father's Day was a wonderful success. John loved the pictures of Imri that I had framed for him - it was the same pic, only I had them enlarged professionally and one copy was black and white - he absolutely loved them. Imri got him a Nike golf shirt of some special "moisture wicking" material and that was a big hit too.





We ended up going to Ruby Tuesd@ys for dinner that evening, as I had received a gift card which was begging to be used. We were a tad nervous about taking Imri out to a restaurant, but it was a wonderful experience. I brought baby food, rattles and various other paraphernalia - Imri was delighted to be sitting up with the big folks and eating, able to survey all around him (and be adored by same). He decided to partake of our conversation and offered such insights as "da da da DA! DA!! ba ba BA!!". We were impressed but decided to have dessert at home. He was so good as to make it a fun evening for us - it made us realize that we should do it more often.

On to more good news; Imri saw Dr Wonderful this morning and his hemoglobin, hematocrit and ferritin levels are all within normal range. He will remain on iron drops for 2 more months and ... his spleen is back to normal size. His ears are clear despite the cold that has beleaguered him recently and he is just so absolutely delicious that all the nurses flock to him whenever I bring him in. It's very sweet - Imri takes it in stride as his due, of course. My center-of-attention son ... very cute.

I've been keeping to myself of late - sleep deprivation and some home-front trouble, not to mention a fairly heavy period (I'm guessing due to less pumping/breastfeeding)have led to a bit of sadness and lack of coping. I hesitate to term it depression because I am feeling better and my tsoures are small potatoes in the grand scheme of things. It did feel pretty awful when I was deep in the throes, but I've gotten over myself. Oh and my mother finally did call. Not necessary but nice.

So there you have it. A blogger keeping to herself sort of defeats the purpose of blogging but some days I don't have the energy. If I did, I'd probably already be down the thirtytwenty pounds I need to lose very desperately. I'll try and stay in touch.

On a schedule - for what it's worth

Life continues merrily on its path. Jr graduated from high school to our joy and relief. He then proceeded while at work, to sell cigarettes to an underage kid who also happened to be an undercover cop. We await his punishment - he is suspended from work until they say otherwise. Yeah. Well, at least he graduated. Nuff said.

Imri is flourishing and growing bigger before my eyes. To the extent that we find ourselves driving to the nearest baby store today, to purchase a convertible car seat as his infant seat no longer fits him ... *sob*!
He is babbling away and his word recognition is growing in leaps and bounds. He gets very excited at the word "book". Imri is exploring the world around him and trying mightily to crawl. He has the up on all fours down pat, it's the forward motion that eludes him. He rocks and rocks and ends up moving backwards - which is still movement, you know.

He delights in standing up - assisted, of course - he is very sturdy on his feet and will take steps as well. He gets very excited by this. His latest thing is not the beloved jumperoo, but a basket filled with small toys which he delights in emptying over and over again - with much gnawing and chewing involved. He does, however, absolutely love jumping on beds, couches or anything bouncy upon which his doting mother will help him bounce. I'd do anything to hear that amazing laugh. Absolutely anything.






He is pouring drool these days but still no tooth to be seen. His behaviour is definitely teething behaviour though - he is chewing on everything and anything.

To top it all off, it's as if a lightbulb went off and he has gone nuts over solids! Hurray! From the boy that would spit everything out and cry when you fed him, he has turned into an eating machine; three solids meals a day, including meats, veggies, fruit and oatmeal. Pretty much anything and everything we put in his mouth, much to our joy.

To our chagrin however, was the discovery that a full belly doesn't necessarily mean better sleep. We were hopeful, I tell you. He even slept a full three hours a couple of nights. Last night disabused us of the notion that things were improving, unfortunately. Imri woke after 30 minutes, then after 15 minutes, then 15 minutes, then 45 minutes. We got up to an hour interval when I pulled him into our bed. Enough. I need SOME sleep.

I'm hoping this is a mere bump on the sleep highway. We have instituted a schedule for my beloved boy, despite my declaration to John some months ago "our boy does fine without a schedule!" -which was true at the time but seems to be that way no longer. John had difficulty accepting the whole concept of change but he is getting over it. Slowly.

Anyway, this is our schedule right now, with some minor alteration on the weekends when Imri seems to know he can sleep in. That's my boy ...

Wake: Usually around 5-6 am, depending on whether he has daycare or not.
Leave for work/daycare around 6:15. Sometimes he nurses, sometimes not. Usually he has been sucking on boob part of the night so he's not terribly hungry.
Arrive at daycare around 6:45 - nurse.
Or if home, nurse around 7:30 ish.
First nap around 8 - 8:30. The last couple of weekend days he has woken closer to 7 am so the early nap has gone down the toilet. I am not sure that will be the case on early morning days.
Breakfast when he awakes, 9ish. 4 Tbl oatmeal and fruit and veg.
Playtime.
He usually nurses or gets a bottle some time between 10 and 12.
Nap - now this seems to vary. Sometimes he naps early (usually for me) and sometimes he naps later (usually for daycare). So it remains fluid. So it could be at 11 (yes!)and it could be at 1.(boo)
12-1 Lunch - 4tbl oatmeal, fruit and veg.
Playtime.
Nap - usually around 3-4. Sometimes later, such as when John picks him up from daycare and he falls asleep in the car. Usually around a 30 minute nap.
Bottle or nurse
Playtime.
6ish - dinner. Meat and veg. No fruit or juice or anything sugary. We try and stay low-key from here on in, including low key playtime.
7ish bathtime. We do it every night now.
7:30 we read books
7:45 bottle/nurse
8-8:15 bedtime. (Some on my bulletin board say 8 is too late for bed but I don't often get home from work until 6:30, so it has to fit into our home life and that seems to work well.)

Then wake wake wake wake and want to nurse nurse nurse nurse. *sigh*. He does fall asleep with relative ease to music - both his lullaby mobile and his Aquarium one get called into service at different times. Last night as I was about to pull my hair out, I decided to use the aquarium ... halleluyah. He finally slept for about 1-2 hours. Imri usually ends up in our bed around 3-4 am out of my desperation for some form of sleep. Where he nurses a lot but not as much as he used to. (I wonder if that has anything to do with his ear surgery - I also wonder if that is the reason he wants to eat too - or if that was just plain ol' perseverance.)

We did try a teeny-weeny-mini-attempt at CIO last night at one point, to see if he would lull himself back to sleep, but he just kept escalating and escalating, to the point that when we did go in, it took a lot longer to bring him down than if we had gone in earlier. And perhaps that is what caused the many reawakenings of that night. Who knows? Not I.
Anyway, it's a big Nope. Not doing it. I don't care how many people email me or comment and say "hey, cio is the only thing that worked, it was awful but it worked ..." "awful" is a word I don't want to associate with my son. Not now, not ever. If it is that miserable an experience, it's not the right way to go for us. Both John and I feel strongly about this. And both of us (more me, of course) aren't getting much sleep.

At least we agree on that. Pretty much all other bets seem to be off.

Comments? Ideas? Suggestions(that don't involve CIO)?

My husband also seems to want to do something called "sex". I vaguely remember this - it felt good, if I remember correctly. However, right now when given the choice between sleep and this "sex" thing ... I pick sleep. Call me silly. And call him frustrated. Oy.






PS - my mother still hasn't called.

Chapter 2 (or is it 3?) in "I think I was raised by wolves"

My parents are older - I've mentioned this before - and rather set in their ways but aside from that, my mother tends to take every situation and ratchet it up several notches. I'm not sure if this is a cry for attention or whether she's just never learned to cope appropriately but her attitude tends to rain down on the rest of us, including my father.

I've tried very hard to call them frequently as we live so far away and I want them to share in their grandson's life as much as possible, but you have to wade through a lot of my mother's bullshit and it's getting old and tired. There is always something that has ruined something else for my mother. My mother could find flaws in perfection, trust me.

They do have my sympathies as they had a difficult week. Their fridge compressor died and they had to go 5 days without a fridge which is hard, especially in your 70s - but I called to say hi yesterday and you would have thought I had asked my mother to drop everything and walk on over the 700 miles or so to visit us ...

You see, she's completely stressed out. Why? Because my brother and his wife are expecting in July (nothing new) and sister B is going in for surgery around the same time(we also knew this)and how mom just can't care for her kids because she's exhausted (ok, just tell her, you're always exhausted) and sister A is not well (also nothing new) and the fridge and yadayadayadayadayadayada and how her hand hurts (!!!!)because she was on the phone for an hour (!!!!)with sister A and how she's just going to have to call me back tomorrow.

Which wouldn't be a big deal if she hadn't said exactly the same thing last week and I never heard from her. Or how she seems to call very rarely now anyway.

Add to this that my parents have told me that they are coming here at some point during the summer (either before or after a visit to Quebec for whale-watching) and I'd like to get an approximation so perhaps I can rent a cottage at the beach or plan something nice to do for them and us - and while their ETA is dependent on whether or not my brother and his wife have a boy (for a bris or baby naming) it would still be nice to get approximates, but I obviously made the mistake of asking more than once over a two week period.
You would think I had asked for the moon. I mean - I'm trying to do something nice. Anyway, whatever. Besides, John and I do have some plans (not many) this summer and we will not cancel them at the last minute because my parents suddenly decide that "this is the weekend we're coming ..."

So I'm listening to my mother and making the appropriate commiseration sounds and I asked her if she got the last batch of Imri pics in her email, hoping this might improve her mood. She got all upset and it became a huge production, how she hasn't had time, the fridge was so stressful, everything is so stressful, she didn't really look at the pictures and how she just can't cope ... (did I mention that the fridge is fixed now?) and how badly my father took the poor customer service of the fridge repair people ....and she abruptly says something like "I just can't handle all this and I will call you tomorrow" and I got short with her and said "fine" and hung up. I mean, I was just calling so she could hear how her grandson is talking, really but she never even asked how he was.

It's my guess she could tell I was upset and she had my dad call back only I didn't answer when I saw their number light up the caller ID and my dad (who has to deal with all her moods, poor man) left a message about how I shouldn't worry about when they're coming they will let us know - so now it sounds as if that's why I called -which isn't why ...ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! It looks like they tried to call again in the afternoon when we were out, but no message was left so maybe she clued in.

I am just getting so tired of mom and her issues crap. Why can't she just take a chill pill and relax and try and enjoy her grandson (and everything else in life), rather than working everything into a state of panic?? Why does everything have to be a major meltdown?

I was so hurt yesterday I actually cried when I got off the phone. I should be used to my parent's rejection by now. I guess it just never occurred to me that it would be directed at my son, directly or indirectly. I'm just not going to let him ever be affected by that crap.