Peter was out of town for work 5 days last week and another night this week, so I had to hold down the homestead on my own (well, almost) for a while. Surprisingly, it wasn’t that bad, and I actually got more than usual done during that time. Being on my own forced me to buckle down. Here’s what I learned in my week as a single mom.
Morning smiles to text to Daddy.
1) Don’t think about your chores; just do them. When you think about them, you realize how unappealing it is to empty all the trash cans in the house and gather up the recycling. When you don’t have someone else nagging reminding you to do something (or helping you out) it’s easy to put it off. That’s why you just have to do it – no room for reflection.
2) Showering before getting Corban up makes mornings go much more smoothly.
3) Normal rush hour traffic is abominable! I am used to leaving slightly after peak commuting times, but when Peter was gone I had to shift my schedule up by a half hour or an hour so I could be home in time for our nanny to get to her night classes. That 30 minutes or so makes a huge difference in travel times. (And yes, I know I live in Milwaukee, which has relatively light traffic compared to many large cities, and I am thankful for that. But I’m not used to my morning drive being more than 20 minutes!)
4) It’s nice to get into work a little earlier. I’m not sure if it’s worth the trade-off of a longer commute — there has to be a happy medium somewhere — but starting the day early makes me feel more productive.
5) Life without TV is much more peaceful. I am not a TV person, but Peter is one who always has it on in the background. I actually didn’t even think about TV while he was gone, but I did notice how much calmer the house seemed with the silence.
6) Packing lunch the night before is the way to go. I always intend to do this, but never was consistent until last week when I knew my mornings would have to be extra efficient. It is definitely worth the extra 10 minutes (max) after dinner.
7) The mail is overrated. Um, yeah, I forgot to get the mail all week. It’s one of those things that Peter always does and I just don’t think about. Oops.
8) It’s a lot easier to get out of bed in the morning when there isn’t someone snoozing peacefully next to you. I get up and shower before Peter does, and always have a hard time dragging myself out of bed while he is snugly cuddled in. When a vacant pillow is your bedmate, it’s easier to just roll out without looking back.
9) Real single moms have it way harder than I do. A lot of the reason it wasn’t too rough for me taking care of Corban, the house and general life affairs by myself is because Corban’s nanny was taking care of him 9 hours a day and helping with housework during that time too. Those are the challenging hours of the day. Peter also was home in time for the weekend, so I don’t think I even really got a taste of what it’s like to raise a child on your own. Real single moms have it way harder because they don’t get a break.
It was actually really good for me to be forced to tighten up my routine and add a little more discipline into my weekday evenings and mornings. Hopefully I’ll have the willpower to continue some of these things even when I can afford to be a little lazy. What are your tips for living and taking care of kids solo?
I feel so blessed to have a wonderful mom, lovely mother-in-law and two awesome grandmas. Today I got to spend time with my mom and one of my grandmothers.
(This is the closest we could get to all four of us smiling in a pic.)
And, of course, the little guy that keeps us endlessly entertained was there, too.
I am so thankful that I get to be not only a mom, but Corban’s mom. I didn’t have too many expectations going into motherhood, but I definitely didn’t realize how much joy it would bring. Cliché as it is, I can’t imagine what my life would be like without Corban.
Every day, he finds new ways to surprise me and make me smile. Of course he is also getting better at bewildering and frustrating me, but even at his worst I really just want to hold him and kiss his head.
Corban said a nice, clear “mama” today — not necessarily in reference to me, but after I prompted him to say it. Nonetheless, it sounded melodic to me.
I’m sure Baby #2 will show me even more dimensions of love and joy (even if he or she isn’t as easy in the newborn days as Corban was). Being a mom really gives me a new appreciation for how my mom feels about me, and her mom feels about her, etc.
Tuesday marks 20 weeks – the halfway point – of this pregnancy! (Or, if the baby comes early, like Corban did, we’re already more than halfway there. Eek.)
While the first trimester seemed to drag on and on (feeling sick all the time seems to have that effect), the second trimester has sped by so far.
I jumped right into wearing maternity clothes at the start of the second trimester. I still wear some non-maternity tops (some maternity shirts look pretty baggy on me still) but maternity is a must for pants now.
Physically, I’ve felt pretty normal for the second trimester thus far. My appetite came back as soon as I hit 13 weeks and I enjoyed tons of great food while on vacation in Charleston, SC. Since then, appetite, cravings and aversions have slowly become more hit or miss. I’ve started to notice, like during my last pregnancy, that some of my favorite foods just don’t taste as great as they normally do. I think my taste buds are just a little off. Bummer.
I’m just starting to notice more aches and pains that come with a growing belly. New to the list this time is an intense pain in my groin and inner left thigh whenever I move my legs to get out of bed or lift my left leg (like to put pants on or sometimes even to walk). I Google-diagnosed myself with Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction, which essentially is pain associated with a joint in your pelvis widening more than it should during pregnancy. It doesn’t seem serious, but I am not looking forward to spending the next 20 weeks with it. Has anyone else dealt with this? Don’t worry – I will be asking my doctor about it at my next appointment.
On to the fun part… here’s a peek at the growing bump, and the growing big brother alongside it.
Note Corban’s changes from pre-first haircut to post-haircut to the present, with his shagginess back again (I love it).
We got to see the little one this past week via ultrasound. That, plus my growing belly, makes this all seem a bit more real.
The day before the ultrasound, I realized I really want to find out whether this baby is a boy or a girl. We didn’t find out with Corban, and I loved every minute of the suspense and surprise. But this time, it’s different. We are pretty much ready for the baby as far as gear is concerned (we just did this, after all) and we know generally what to expect (although every child is different, yada yada yada). So finding out the sex is just more at the forefront of my mind this time. I want to imagine the sibling dynamic, to shop for baby girl clothes if it’s a girl, to go through all of Corban’s old clothes if it’s a boy. I just have a stronger desire to immediately satisfy my curiosity this time.
Alas, since I came to this realization a mere 24 hours before the ultrasound, I was not able to convince Peter or myself to change the game plan and find out. So another surprise it is. (Unless we have another ultrasound at some point )
Emotionally, I am just starting to really think about this baby and the changes that will come to our family. I am so excited to once again experience the joy of bringing a new life into the world. I love that our family is growing, and I can’t wait to see Corban interact with the new baby.
At the same time, I’m overwhelmed by the thought of having another child. In my mom’s words, “One is like none and two is like ten.” So far, Corban really has felt as close to “none” as possible. He was such an easygoing infant and continues to have an easy demeanor. But even if we are blessed with two Corbans, our world will be significantly more complicated. Just leaving the house will be much more challenging. Parents of two or more kids, how scared should we be?
It’s also starting to hit me that we actually do have some major things to do before the baby arrives. Like move our super messy, cluttered office into the basement and set up Corban’s new big boy room. The weeks just keep coming and going, but in the next month or so we’ll need to schedule some significant time to focus on those tasks. I’ll keep you posted on our progress.
4.5 months down. 4.5 months to go. Time to get moving!
I started writing this about a month ago, as a 15-month update, but never finished or posted it. Such is life. That update was written while I was in the throes of morning sickness and emotional stress/sadness while Pa was sick, so it started like this:
This past month or so has been a challenge for all sorts of reasons. But through the ups and downs Corban continues to be a bright, beaming light to me every day. And even though I’ve felt at times like I’m coasting through as a mom and not giving him 100%, he continues to learn, grow, impress us and make us smile.
Thankfully, I am feeling much more like myself now, so I’ve been able to enjoy the fun of having a sweet toddler this month. He has changed so much since the last update I wrote, at 13.5 months! Here are some of the adventures and milestones he’s experienced in that time:
Flew on an airplane for the second time in his life
Busy few months, I guess. Each new skill so naturally builds upon every other that these milestones just keep creeping up on us.
Walking
C took his first steps at almost 14 months, and now he walks all over like a pro. When he’s tired or overexcited he might get clumsy and falls on his big diapered butt, but he gets right back up again like nothing happened. He tries to run if you pretend to chase him, but usually gets too giggly and trips. It still makes me smile to see him toddling all over the house like a little busybody.
Talking
He has absolutely mastered the point, gesture and grunt to communicate his desires to us. He used to consistently sign things like all done, more and eat, and he sometimes does that still, but now is more apt to use sounds and facial expressions to communicate. He is surprisingly effective at telling us what he wants – but without using real words.
I have been eagerly awaiting a “mama” or “dada” (which we reinforce constantly to him), but instead I think Corban’s first official word is “dog.”
No, we don’t have a dog. We have cats. But Corban still thinks almost every four-legged creature says “woof woof” and, starting about three weeks ago, will point at them and bark and occasionally say “dah,” which I interpret as dog.
For a while he would constantly point at things and says “dis,” but I think “dog” is more of a real first word than “this” since “this” can refer to anything.
Over the past few days he has been saying “bah,” a lot, sometimes possibly in reference to a banana, but several times when I pointed to a picture of a sheep and asked him what sound it makes. Another new one is “aaarrr,” like a lion roaring. Yes, our child makes lots of animal noises (see video at end of post).
Listening
Although he hasn’t done much talking yet, it’s been amazing to see Corban’s language comprehension really take off these past couple months. He understands and obeys when we ask him to go get a book off the shelf, put something away, go give something to mama or dada, find a diaper, go get his blocks, throw something in the garbage, go find Biggles/Basil, get his blanket and various other simple instructions. Every time he hears a phone ring, he puts his hand to his ear like he is holding a phone. It’s so much fun seeing the things he picks up just by observation.
Eating
Corban is generally a good eater, but I feel like I bore him with the same rotation of foods in his diet. His nanny and I try to ensure he gets a good balance of grains, fruits, veggies, protein and dairy, but because of a combination of his preferences and my shopping habits, that means he eats some combination of eggs, plain yogurt, peanut butter, toast, bananas, cooked carrots, cheese, hummus and a few other fruits and veggies almost every day. It’s easy, healthy and he likes it, so I guess I shouldn’t worry, but other ideas would be welcome. He rejects most meat I have tried to feed him recently. Green smoothies are my new favorite way to get some extra veggies in him.
He went through a phase where he was obsessed with eating whole apples. He would spend a good 45 minutes working his way (partially) through one in tiny bites, with a huge grin on his face the entire time.
Sleeping
Happy to report we are at a REALLY good place with sleeping! Corban naps for usually 1.5 to 2 hours right after lunch (usually asleep around noon). Bedtime is 7:30 p.m. He goes down without a problem and sleeps until the early morning, when Peter may go in and replace his pacifier to get him to go back to sleep. Up for the day between 7 and 7:30 a.m.* I’d better hurry up and enjoy this before we start all over with #2!
He has become attached to a blanket my friend Jess crocheted for him last Easter. He threads his fingers through the holes and picks fuzz off of it for comfort.
*Of course… I typed this two days ago and the past two mornings he has woken up in the 6 a.m. hour. Grr!
Fun
Current obsessions:
Being outside. This really took off when we were on vacation in South Carolina two weeks ago. He was fascinated by the snowless ground, filled with sticks, leaves, pine cones and other exciting things to pick up and carry around.
But even before that, he enjoyed playing in the snow.
He loves walking around outside and going to the park.
This past week has been cold and rainy almost every day, and Corban doesn’t understand why we aren’t taking him outside. A few times he carried his and Peter’s coats over to Peter, his way of asking to go out. One time he even carried both of Peter’s big shoes over to him. Don’t worry, C, we aren’t fans of this weather either.
Balls. Corban loves to play catch (though he can’t catch yet) with tennis balls, a beach ball or balloons.
Climbing. We are his human jungle gym and climbing on us while we’re lying down can entertain him for a long time.
When Peter and I hug or kiss. This is highly amusing to Corban. He grins and laughs hysterically. I’m sure someday he will have the opposite reaction…
Jumperoo. We still have the Jumperoo out (even though I am sick of seeing it in our family room) because our nanny’s son uses it while she is putting Corban down for naps. Surprisingly, Corban still asks to go in it sometimes and has an absolute ball bouncing around. I never would have guessed he would still be into that thing at 16 months.
Stairs. Ugh. He doesn’t get to climb stairs very often because we have a one-story house, so you bet that the first thing he runs for at church or someone else’s house is the staircase. He has never fallen, but still needs supervision, which is the inconvenient part because he would be happy climbing up and down stairs for hours.
Touch screens. He thinks every screen is a touch screen, and tried swiping at a friend’s TV the other weekend. I let him hold my phone and play with it, usually only while it’s locked, and he is usually sufficiently entertained by pressing the home button to reveal a photo of himself at one day old. A couple months ago I showed him the Gangnam Style music video on my phone and he was riveted. Eventually he started dancing, and then bent down to kiss the screen and put his face/ear on it.
Humidifiers. This love has subsided quite a bit, but for a long time he was really into playing with humidifiers. We turn one on at night in his room, for white noise and to keep the air from getting too dry in the winter, and he used to freak out over it — squealing, clapping, putting his face over the vent.
Stickers. A cheap thrill, but now I find them in unexpected places all over the house.
“Cooking.” I designated a plastic spatula for him to play with and he likes to get a mixing bowl out of the cabinet and sit and stir the bowl while I’m cooking. It will be fun to try actual cooking with him when he’s a little older!
“Helping.” Unloading the dishwasher, sweeping, doing laundry… these are all exciting activities in Corban’s world. He loved the Swiffer in the house we rented in South Carolina, so I’m thinking we should get one. Productive playtime!
Brushing his teeth. If he sees you brushing his teeth, he tries to grab your toothbrush and put it in his mouth. He smiles while I brush his teeth with his apparently very yummy toddler toothpaste.
Whew. It’s daunting catching up on 2.5 months of changes. And these are just the highlights. I keep thinking I’ll focus these updates more on my thoughts as a parent, but I like recording the details of Corban’s development (with photos) for both myself and far-away family and friends. I’ll leave you with some quick stats:
Height: 32 inches at 15-month appointment (80th percentile) Weight: 24 pounds 4 ounces at 15-month appointment (75th percentile) Clothes size: 18 months Diaper size: 3 during the day, 4 at night (in Target brand — other brands tend to run smaller) Shoe size: 5 Teeth: 14, I think, including 4 molars Words: Woof woof, baah, dah (dog), aaarrr (roar)
And here he is yesterday showing off some of his animal noises. All but woof woof are recent developments within the past week.
I had a Corban update post ready to go for tonight, but it seems inappropriate to write about anything other than what’s been on my mind since shortly after 2 p.m. this afternoon.
I’m usually not one to get all-consumingly wrapped up in breaking national tragedies as they unfold – I’d rather wait until all the facts are out and then think and read about it – but for a good while today I couldn’t peel my eyes away from Twitter and the Boston Globe’s live blog. Maybe it was the gruesome photos that made it seem so real, or the fact that I am (or was) a long-distance runner myself, but the horror seemed so close despite being more than 1,000 miles away.
This morning I logged on to She Reads Truth for the first time in some weeks and read a post that I’ve been thinking about again tonight in light of this terrifying and tragic act. The post was on kingdom praying. When Jesus taught his disciples how to pray in Matthew 6 he started with, “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”
Kingdom praying is asking God to bring Heaven here to earth, to marry His space with ours, to accomplish His plan. Can you imagine if we started all our prayers here? Matthew 6:33 says to “seek first His kingdom.” What would happen if we didn’t pray for our Earthly needs first, but for those things that matter for eternity?
To be perfectly honest, my first inclination after seeing the blood and hearing the injury reports from the streets of Boston was to thank God for my own safety, my intact limbs and my family safe at home – things I all too often take for granted. But then I remembered what I had read about kingdom praying this morning.
I’m sure many people look at these events and doubt God’s sovereignty, wonder how this can be His will and feel hopeless on this broken, scary earth. Without God’s promise of eternal life, I would too. So I pray for them. I pray that God reveals Himself to those who suffer and grieve. I pray for comfort and peace and that His kingdom comes.
If you know me in real life or on Facebook, then this is old news by now. But if not, I’ve got some exciting new news!
I am 15 weeks along (holy cow!). This pregnancy has been quite different from my first so far, and not in a good way. I could barely eat during the first trimester — everything made me feel sick. It was so bad at one point that I stayed home from work one day, which I’ve never done before.
But right when I hit 13 weeks the clouds seemed to part and my second trimester came as a warm welcome. Now I’ve got newfound energy, a healthy appetite, and honestly, I just feel normal again. I’ll enjoy it while it lasts!
Mini-bump beginning to emerge
There are some other differences this time around, in addition to the enhanced morning sickness. For instance:
I haven’t been journaling every day and recording symptoms/thoughts/etc.
I’ve only taken two official bump photos.
I ate a ham sandwich at the airport on Sunday and was like, eh, lunchmeat, I’m sure I’ll be fine
I drank a small glass of dry (alcoholic) cider while on vacation, and many sips of others’ wine and cocktails (this was after I hit the second trimester)
I haven’t read any of those “your baby is the size of a lemon” updates or downloaded any pregnancy apps
I’ve already switched to maternity pants and wore my first maternity sweater the other day (partially this is because my maternity jeans are really cute and comfy, and I want to get use of my winter maternity gear while it’s still unbearably cold)
Just a little bit more laid back this time. I think the main difference, though, is that the first time around I was all-consumed by the pregnancy and ME being pregnant. I couldn’t possibly understand or appreciate what life would be like when the pregnancy stage was over and we had a baby. In some ways, I enjoyed pregnancy because it was this grand anticipation of something unknown, life-altering and slightly scary. It was all I knew at that point.
But now that I’ve been through it all, I have a better grasp on the fact that the pregnancy is just one small part – and not even the most fun part. I will do my best to enjoy this pregnancy as much as I (yes) enjoyed my first, but now that I know how great the prize is at the end, it’s hard not to see pregnancy as kind of a burden to get through (especially when you have morning sickness or when you remember how swollen your feet were in the third trimester). I was just getting used to not being pregnant and not nursing/pumping around the clock when we found out I was pregnant again, so for selfish reasons I wish I could enjoy my normal body for a while. But we chose to have our second be close in age with Corban, and I know that is a good thing (for them if not for us).
So although I’m not as excited for the physical aspect of pregnancy this time around, I think I’m more excited about having a baby (if that makes sense). Knowing how wonderful each stage of new life is makes me happy in a way that I couldn’t understand or imagine before becoming a mom.
He laughed a lot, and made us laugh even more. His laugh is what sticks in my mind now as I look back on years of memories that sadly will no longer be made after today.
I’ve known this day was coming my entire life. My mom even used to warn us when we were being brats and didn’t want to call or go over to our grandparents’ house: “They won’t be around forever.” I’ve dreaded this day my entire life, and I knew it had to come, yet part of me thought it never would. Pa was 92. He was sharp, quick-witted and funny till the very end.
He told great stories, even if they were sometimes exaggerated, or made up altogether. In elementary school I interviewed him about his time in the service during WWII. He told me elaborate tales of him as a fighter pilot. I found out later from my mom that he never actually was in combat. But that was after I had turned in a really interesting report.
He was a drummer. Charlie Dell. He traveled the country playing music as a career until shortly after my uncle was born, when he looked at the men around him, old and drunk and doing the same thing night after night, and realized this was no way to raise a family.
Then he was a salesman until he retired. It was after retirement that he started – mainly as a hobby, out of his garage – the business that would grow into the thriving company that has put food (and much more) on the table for my family almost my entire life.
He married my grandma in 1945 and last year they celebrated their 67th wedding anniversary.
It’s a wonder they have any photos at all from their wedding day. Their photographer, Pa’s uncle, who was giddy about his fancy pants borrowed camera, snapped away the entire day and realized at the end he hadn’t loaded any film into the camera.
This was from their 63rd anniversary:
On my wedding day, they were the last couple on the dance floor during the married couples dance. Pa faked a heart attack when the DJ announced how many years they had been married.
He and my grandma were and are good friends with my other grandparents, so many family gatherings included all four of them.
What a blessing to have both sides of the family like family to one another. In fact, the four of them would often get together on their own to play cards or go out to eat.
Pa and Nana have lived in the same house for 56 years. This is the house my mom grew up in, and I practically grew up in. It’s filled with so many memories.
This was taken last month, during our last visit with him before this past weekend. It was a sweet, sweet afternoon.
Pa was an artist who made silly ceramic toothpick holders and quirky copper garden sculptures. He learned old English and wrote sonnets inspired by a Shakespeare poetry book I gave him years ago. He wrote long letters filled with advice and short, nonsensical, yet somehow profound emails. One of the last things he said to me this past weekend – with much effort and little clarity as he struggled to speak – was that he wants me to read his file of “before and after thoughts.” I cried and cried, and haven’t seen them yet, but knowing Pa I have a good idea of what those musings will be like: introspective with a good dose of goofy.
He was a magician and a mini-magician’s teacher (me being the mini-magician as a child).
He almost always had a trick up his sleeve – the most epic and memorable being an Easter egg hunt riddled with twists, turns and challenges along the way, which resulted in my little brother winning $50 in a surprise ending.
This was from a later-year’s Easter egg hunt, which was much less elaborate than the one Pa planned when we were kids.
He was the founder of FredonteQ, a club he created for his five grandkids.
Now he has two great-grandsons, who he could always make smile.
London Dell, born October 2010.
Corban James, born December 2011.
He was the leader of the annual Christmas Eve family band.
He was perhaps the only octogenarian to play Call of Duty on his computer.
He was the self-proclaimed “Merrymaker Guy,” and that’s how I’ll always remember Pa.
Up until this point, Corban was still a little baby in my eyes. I thought maybe that would change on his first birthday, or when he started walking, or when he weaned from breastfeeding. But it turns out that the first haircut is the true marker of change from baby to little boy.
I had put off the first haircut for so long because I liked his sweet, shaggy wisps. But then it got really, really long. Like, in his eyes all the time — past his eyes and touching his tiny nose. My family nagged me. Several people threatened to cut it when I wasn’t looking. I finally conceded that it needed to be cut, but still put it off for a few more weeks purely out of signature Alison procrastination.
Actually, I had been procrastinating on a haircut for myself too, so on Saturday I booked an appointment for both Corban and I. Yes, my son had his first haircut at an Aveda salon, but the stylist was nice and only charged me $10 for him so I think I got quite a steal.
If you’ve met Corban, this probably goes without saying, but he did great during the haircut. He just hung out, looked around, played with combs, brushes and my iPhone and stared at other patrons. I’m sure he had no idea what was going on, but he didn’t seem to mind being prodded by a stranger.
Although the photo below makes it look like I’m freaking out, I actually was fine during the cut.
It was looking at him afterward that made me (sort of ) freak out. I was NOT prepared for how different he would look at the end! This is partially because we kind of told the stylist to go all out since we didn’t want to book another haircut anytime soon (or have to deal with cutting it ourselves). I spent the rest of the day gushing about how I didn’t recognize my own son.
It’s just that… he’s really a little boy now. The babyness is gone. And that does make me sad. I keep reminding myself that he needed it cut really, really badly. And it will grow back.
Here’s an after of both of us with our new ‘dos. I got a good 3 inches off and it feels sooo good.
I think the haircut really went to his head, because now he’s all like, “Sorry, Mom, we can play later. I’ve gotta take this one.”
After 14 months, we are officially done breastfeeding.
All I can think about in summation of that 14 months is WOW — breastfeeding is a wild, emotional ride. I had absolutely NO idea it was so emotionally complex. In fact, I basically knew nothing about it 14 months ago except what I learned in the class I took before Corban was born. I don’t think it’s even possible to really understand all the facets of breastfeeding until you experience it.
I’m so very thankful that, overall, Corban and I had a beautiful experience with it. (And I realize that sounds creepy to anyone who hasn’t done it!)
In the beginning, I had no idea how I would survive the pain, sleeplessness and long hours of nursing.
But slowly it got easier. And by six months I couldn’t bear to think of the day when I wouldn’t nurse my baby — or, rather, when he wouldn’t depend on me in that way. Just imagining it made my eyes well up.
But each new milestone and development that seems so distant eventually comes in perfect timing. So last week, when Corban nursed for the final time, it seemed a natural conclusion.
How did we get to that point? I admit, weaning was something that seemed intimidating at first, but we took it one step at a time. Here’s what that looked like for us:
0-6 months: Exclusively breastfed. No food except breastmilk for Little C.
6 months:Start introducing solid foods, but still nursing the same amount as before — almost all nutrition is still coming from breastmilk.
7 months: I go back to work full time (previously was part time) and Corban has two bottles a day while I’m at work. I pump twice a day at work.
10-11 months: I drop down to pumping once a day at work. All this time, Corban’s solids intake is increasing, and milk intake is slowly decreasing naturally.
12 months: We officially begin what I considered weaning. I stop pumping completely, and begin to wean Corban from nursing in the middle of the night. So we are down to nursing right when he wakes up and right before bed, and he has bottles of breastmilk during the day. I also stop nursing him during the day on weekends.
13ish months: He doesn’t seem to be very into the nighttime nursing, so we drop that but still feed him as much breastmilk as he will drink before bed. Still nursing first thing in the morning (my favorite feeding because it’s done while lying in bed).
14 months: By this point, he is nursing very little in the morning and only on the left side. He usually has a bottle after he nurses. We finally reach the very end of our freezer supply of breastmilk. So at 14 months and one week old, Corban nurses for the final time and switches fully to cow’s milk.
To be honest, the real reason we completely quit when we did is because Peter and I went out of town with friends — without Corban — and so that just seemed like a natural cut off point. I sure as heckfire wasn’t going to pump while we were away — and I don’t even think there was much left to pump anyway. Although I did have some times of discomfort at various points during the weaning process (most notably when weaning from the pump!), I didn’t feel anything at the end.
On our last morning of breastfeeding, I was a little nostalgic, but it just seemed right. Corban is a little toddler now, and though we both still enjoy plenty of snuggle time each morning and night (and during the day when I’m home), he hasn’t seemed to miss nursing.
That final morning, Peter left early for a men’s church group, so Corban and I had time to ourselves. He nursed for a minute or so, then sat up. I asked if he wanted more, and he nursed a bit longer, then sat up again. Not quite ready to be done, I encouraged him to nurse one last time. He did, briefly.
When he finished, I just lay there, smiling at his sweet mass of bedhead. He sat on a pile of covers, laughing and making silly faces, and eventually crawling off to climb down and explore on his own.
Everyone keeps referring to this weekend as Super Bowl weekend, but to us it was Groundhog Day weekend.
Peter has always adored the movie “Groundhog Day,” and he successfully got me on board with it shortly after we started dating. It’s a movie we can both watch over and over (how appropriate). So this year we took advantage of February 2nd falling on a Saturday and decided to celebrate the holiday and the movie with a bunch of friends from church.
There were groundhog cookies…
(Decorating cutout cookies makes me crazy! I must remember this next time I am tempted to make cutesy cookies.)
(Because groundhogs are similar to squirrels, right?)
Corban actually got his first taste of chocolate after snatching one of the acorns out of the bowl while I was photographing them. He loved it, of course.
Other than that, it was just a normal party with lots and lots of food. I went with my tried and true menu of homemade barbecue pulled pork, Chinese salad, green salad and baked beans. Plus lots of snacks and desserts provided by our guests.
Peter and I love to have people over, and we usually throw at least one decent party each year. Strangely, I’ve found that the more planning I put into an event, the more stressed I am during the party. This is probably because when I plan in too much detail, I overcomplicate it by doing things like beer-tasting tournaments, overly ambitious meals and detailed decorating.
This party was quite low stress, despite including lots of homemade food. No decorating, no worrying about friend groups mixing awkwardly, no activities planned (besides some people watching the movie). We kept it simple, and therefore were able to have fun during the party. I love party planning, but too often I end up enjoying the planning but stressing during the party itself — I should be able to enjoy both!
—–
In even more exciting news (more exciting than Groundhog Day? No kidding)… Corban took his first steps on Thursday!
This was one of the coolest parenting moments for me so far. It was unexpected, too. He’s been standing on his own and cruising along furniture, but none of us expected him to just get up out of his mini rocking chair and walk. But that’s exactly what happened. Two unanticipated steps. We all (meaning Peter, my friend Litzy, who was over for dinner, and I) just laughed in astonishment.
Aforementioned rocking chair, though not on the day he walked.
I also breathed a huge sigh of relief that I was there to see it. The sad truth is that I am at work during more than half of his waking hours, so there was a good chance I would miss this milestone. I’m thanking God that I didn’t!
Aside from a few other single steps that we coaxed out of him that night, he hasn’t done any more walking. He’s still content with his expert crawling. So for now I’ll just continue to enjoy my baby who loves to be held, cuddled and chauffeured around on my hip before he turns into an independent toddler.
—–
In other news, I missed the halftime show, but enjoyed an even better splashtime show instead.
)
