I’ve been thinking about this post for sometime, and debating whether or not to write it.  I’ve decided to just go with it because maybe somebody has something to say that will help.

Here’s the deal: I’ve felt a drift for sometime, unmoored from the security of my faith.  Or I should more rightly say, I feel betrayed and abandoned by my Church.  Growing up Catholic I always felt that my Church truly loved people and respected me as a member of its faithful.  However, in recent years, as the Church has become more and more conservative, I feel like its message of love is being lost.  Perhaps the Church itself is losing its way.

This has been troubling me more lately as C’s baptism hangs over my head.  I long to have C baptized into a Church I believe in, I’m just not sure which church that is anymore.  The Roman Catholic Church, as it is today, is not an option.  While I still believe in many of the Catholic tenets of faith, I have a large problem with most of its social positions.

So here is what I believe, and perhaps you can help me find a church to match it:

I believe in God, the father, the creator.  I believe in the Holy Spirit because I have felt His presence in my life.  I believe in Jesus as both Christ and man.  I love Mary, his mother, and all the angels and saints.  I believe the Bible is an interesting book, but not a literal interpretation of history as it happened.  Most importantly, I believe that as a Christian it is my duty to strive to live as Christ would have me live.

Now this conversation may make some of you very uncomfortable, even angry, but here’s what I have to say.  For me, Jesus had more to teach us as a man, than as God.  As a man, Jesus was generous, understanding, compassionate, wise, forgiving, and, above all, loving.  It is this message of love that I want to teach to C; it is this message that I feel is being lost in so many churches today as they focus on less important issues of who is a sinner and why they will be damned, rather than talking about the New Covenant Jesus gave us:

“This is My commandment, that you love one another, just as I have loved you.”

I feel that this message is often eclipsed by messages of hatred and judgment.  I cannot belong to a church that ignores this new commandment by choosing to focus instead of the sins of others.

I feel like I’m compelled to offer the numerous examples Jesus gave us urging his followers not to judge others when they themselves are sinners (because let’s face it we all are).

From Matthew:

Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but don’t consider the beam that is in your own eye?

From John:

When they persisted in questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let the person among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.”

From James:

Do not complain, brethren, against one another, so that you yourselves may not be judged; behold, the Judge is standing right at the door.

From Corinthians:

Therefore do not go on passing judgment before the time, but wait until the Lord comes who will both bring to light the things hidden in the darkness and disclose the motives of men’s hearts; and then each man’s praise will come to him from God.

All examples aside, all rhetoric dropped, all I really want for both C and me, is a church that leaves it’s faithful to reflect on their own hearts and focus on the joy and love of God rather than on the failings of men.  I miss my community of faith.  I wish with all my heart for C to have a community in which he can know the beauty of God’s love and the love of his fellow man.

I’m only dateless because my husband is a workaholic.  I appreciate his hard work every other day of the week, but on Friday nights, he should be home with me.  However, he is not, so here I am, 9pm, alone with my son, dogs and my laptop.  I thought about not posting tonight because that seems a little sad, but honestly, what else am I going to do.  So since I feel like doing another post in list form, here’s a list of things I will and won’t do on a Friday night alone.

Things I won’t do on a Friday night:

• Dishes. I hate doing them every night, so on Friday nights I give myself a break.  They’ll definitely still be there tomorrow.  Besides this gives me a feeling of being at a restaurant where a lovely waitperson will whisk my dirty dishes away as if they never existed.
• Adhere to my diet.  Seriously, if I can’t indulge a little every now and again I will definitely have a meltdown and scarf down piles of fried food and sweets.  Tonight I had some chicken tikka masala and basmati rice (half of which I gave to the dogs) with a small glass of chocolate milk.  On a side note, chocolate milk is never as good as you hope it’s going to be.  Now, I’m enjoying a regular Sprite, as in full of empty calories.  And it tastes sooooo good.
• General housework. While I do enjoy doing laundry when I can devote some time to it, most days I am simply trying to get through a load or two a day to stay one-step ahead of the fatal empty dresser drawers.  Since worrying about laundry has taken all the joy out of it for me, I refuse to do it on Friday or Saturday nights.  The same goes for all other dreaded, daily chores: dusting, vacuuming, unloading the dishwasher, etc.
• Homework. Or as grad-students are supposed to call it: coursework.  I’m sorry, but this rule goes all the way back to middle school.  You just don’t do homework on Friday nights.  You just don’t.
• Read anything challenging. I’m a huge book nerd and I love reading nearly everything I can get my hands on.  But Friday nights are meant for relaxing, not analyzing the post-modern prose of a Pulitzer Prize winner.  Hand me the latest vampire book and I’m in heaven.

Things I will do on a Friday night:

• Catch up on my shows. Tonight I’m watching TVRed Bones, Law and Order, and Community, just to shake it up.
• Browse my favorite store sites and make fantasy carts. I look through all the different areas and fill up my cart with anything and everything I would buy if money (and my conscience) was not an issue.
• Wear a mask. My husband is not home, the dogs and baby are asleep, this is THE ideal time to experiment with all my potions and lotions.
• And apparently, blog.

Enjoy your weekend!

I know that is not a very PC thing to say, but I honestly don’t care.  I love TV for many many reasons.  I’ve made you a handy outline below:

1. Being a stay at home mom can be isolating and I can only have conversations with C and the dogs for so long without becoming unfit for outside socialization.  Having the TV on staves off the crazy!

2. This isolation also leaves me somewhat out of touch with what’s happening in the world.  I still won’t watch network news or news channels like CNN because they also drive me crazy with their extremism and panic pandering.  However, watching the Today show or talk shows like Ellen or Bonnie keep me somewhat in touch, especially because when you have a baby you never totally watch anything.  You half-watch everything.  So half-watching Today in the morning keeps me half in touch.

3. When I do happen to come across disturbing news, programmed TV makes me feel better.  Seriously, I know that sentence makes me sound like I’m either 10 or socially stunted, but it’s true.  Motherhood (and pregnancy for that matter) seems to have made me feel everything that much more keenly!  I was already a bleeding heart liberal pre-pregnancy.  Since having my son, every tragedy breaks my heart.  I imagine what it would be like to lose C in every tragic death story or how any injustice would cause C suffering in the same situation.  I feel my duty to society all the more deeply, desperate to contribute something positive, all the while conscious of my primary duty to my own family.

When it all begins to seem like too much I have TV.  I get a chuckle out of Liz Lemon’s frustration.  I lose myself in the cheesy magic of Eastwick.  I fill with joy as the cast of Glee soars with a new song.  (Don’t get me wrong I also have books, friends, and a loving family, but this post is about TV).

4. Sesame Street is AWESOME! C definitely doesn’t get everything that is happening, like what letters and numbers are, but he sure loves those muppets!  When Abby Cadaby or Elmo or even Murray the Monster come on the screen, C’s little face just lights up.  He smiles, sometimes even reaching his arms out to embrace his furry friends.  So while C enjoys the hilarity that is the Sesame Street muppets, mommy gets to enjoy the subtle jokes the writers insert just for parents.  Does C care that Sandra Oh’s cookie fairy was delightfully, perhaps ironically acted?  Does he get a kick out of all the pop songs that have been altered for his sake?  Doe he enjoy that Feist’s song on Sesame Street includes lines like “one, two, three, four, chickens just back from the shore”?  No, he still likes all these funny things, but they’re really there for us grown-ups.  I might not watch Sesame Street on my own, but I definitely don’t mind watching it with little C.

5. Now what I’m about to say may be met with disdain, even disgust, but I’m going to be honest and say it anyways.  I use TV as a distraction for C every morning so I can have a cup of coffee and peruse the paper.  It’s only 25 minutes and it kills me that I do this, but I need this time to get my head on straight or I would be a walking zombie everyday.  So after our morning bottle and a little mommy-baby time, I place C in his jumper in front of the downstairs tv and put on his favorite Baby Einstein, the one about beginning sounds with the bee puppet.  This bee puppet delights him.  He laughs out loud when the bee puppet zooms across the screen.  C bounces up and down in joy as he spends 25 minutes watching this purely entertaining, non-educational video.

Now before you tell me how awful TV is for babies, how C’s little mind is turning into mush as we watch Baby Einstein, save it.  The American Pediatric Association has already done a wonderful job of laying on the guilt for nearly every decision I’ve made that is outside of their recommendations.  But I’m going to side with my psychiatrist on this one (who just happens to be a juvenile development specialist) and say the APA are a bunch of extremists!  Instead, my Dr recommends, do what I think is best for my baby and me.  Do things in moderation, make sure C’s hitting all his developmental markers (which he is, sometimes even early), and try to avoid feeling guilty for needing a little quiet time to start my day.

As my cousin told me, the best mommy is a happy mommy.  And for now, TV helps to make me happy.

A wheeze? A sniffle? A cough?

Dear God! I have become one of those mothers.  I never thought the day would come when I would monitor someone else’s bodily fluids and behaviors as closely as this.  I knew motherhood would change everything, but I didn’t know it would have me typing search phrases like “infant poop color” into Google.  Seriously?!!? It’s totally disgusting, but I have done it…multiple times.  yuck

Today, however, I am more concerned with C’s little wheezes.  The last week or so C will suddenly start to wheeze a little as he takes a deep breath.  He then starts pulling on his ears or rubbing his face.  What does this mean?  I try not to panic every time it happens.  But parts of my brain suddenly kick into overdrive.  Is it the croup?  Is it a cold? An ear infection? Is he developing asthma?  Did something I feed him cause an allergic reaction?  Do I remember infant CPR?  Should I go run the shower and sit him in the steam?  Should I run out to the 24 hour CVS and get a humidifier?  Should I swaddle him in bubble wrap to keep anything else from happening to him????

Tonight it was a wheeze as he struggled against sleep.  It lasted approximately 6 minutes.  I have not heard it since. I was anxious enough for a lifetime in that 6 minutes.  Sleep will probably evade me tonight as I listen for any other noises (or lack of noise) he makes.  One ear open…

Oh wait…what was that?

So those of you who have read my page before know that I was talking about how little time I have to make a good dinner.  I’ve been relying primarily on pre-made soups and frozen dinners.

Today I was determined to break out of that rut! Seriously, there are only so many  nights in a row that you can have canned soup without starting to feel like an old curmudgeon.  With that in mind while I was at Trader Joe’s (which I love, by the way) I knew I wanted to get some bag lettuce mix, but I wasn’t sure what else.  Feeling inspired, here’s what I got:

3 bags of spring mix lettuce

1 bag pre-sliced white mushrooms (only because they were out of bella mushrooms)

one box of cherry tomatoes

one cup of herbed crumbled feta

and now here’s the kicker….

one carton of stir-fry ready chopped vegetables (carrots, broccoli, snow peas, bell peppers, etc.)

Why did this make a difference and why did I get the stir fry?  Well, let me tell you.  I got the stir fry mix because the regular old chopped vegetable mix was about a dollar more for less volume.  This addition to my salad made all the difference because it was so filling and complex! My salad wasn’t just the same old, same old.

And do you know how I made this wonderful salad?  I grabbed a handful from each box or bag and put them in a bowl.  Yum….The end.

Sometimes it’s the little things that make all the difference, you know?

The “lovie”….also known as blankie or bear bear or whatever you happened to name your security blanket or toy.

According to the book I’m reading, The No Cry Sleep Solution, encouraging an infant or child’s attachment to a “lovie” can help that child to sleep longer at night.  This works because the baby becomes affectionate with this toy or blankie, taking the place (at least for the night) of their parent.

C is a very cuddly, very affectionate baby.  He is already learning how to give kisses and leans out of my arms to hug people he knows.  C loves giving hi-fives and being tickled.  Although he is a very independent baby, C seems to like nothing better than being in my lap, climbing all over me, exploring the world around him from the safety of my arms.  And while this is a wonderful, heart warming attribute during the day, it can be somewhat trying at night, particularly night after night after night of needing to be with his mommy and daddy.

Teething, stomach aches, reflux, and growing pains have plagued poor C during these first 6 months.  And unfortunately, he has spent many of these months as one tired baby!  The pain and the sleepiness of little C’s life have caused him to want to spend a lot of time sleeping in the big bed, with us.  While many people out there advocate co-sleeping, I am not one of those people.  It drives me crazy.  Not because I don’t want to cuddle my little one, but because I am a worrier.  I worry constantly that something terrible is going to go wrong.  Co-sleeping does not alleviate any worries, instead it doubles, perhaps quadruples them! Seriously!  It makes me so worried that though my little guy is so very happy to be co-sleeping, I cannot sleep.  If C moves at all, I wake up terrified he’s going to somehow roll under the covers, or wind up face down stuck underneath my husband.  Which means I also wake up if my husband moves or if the dogs move from the end of our bed to their beds or vice versa. More than once my husband has ended up with a hand to face. And if I do sleep, I sleep paralyzed.  My worried mind keeps me from rolling over, even from moving any of my limbs, making for many sore mornings.

So here we are trying to get C to sleep in his own crib, well maybe just in his own pack ‘n play that’s next to the big bed, but at least it’s out of the big bed.  And the book says, the “lovie” may help.  So that’s what we’re doing.  We’re encouraging C to grow attached to a soft blue blanket that is shaped like a dog and has a stuffed dog’s head on one end.  It sounds grotesque, but it’s actually very cute.  I’m trying to think of a name for it.  Blue dog?  Fuzzy blue man?  That one’s a big long.  Bluie?  I don’t know, I’m sure C will come up with one eventually.  In the mean time I’m popping it next to C every time he looks even a little tired.  In the car, on the bed, crawling; anytime he yawns I look like I’m trying out for the 100 meter dash trying to get Old Blue (hmm…maybe?).

It’s just step one, but maybe it’ll help.  I’m not expecting a miracle here, just a few hours of non-paralyzing fear sleep.  And in the meantime, C looks awfully cute with his fuzzy blankie tucked under his arm.

At least, every time I open a can I hope it’s good soup.  Sometimes it is, sometimes not so much.

Some mommies have wonderful children who will sit and play with their little toys in one spot, never leaving their designated area.  These wonderful children don’t attempt to roll under arm chairs, or climb out of pack ‘n plays.  They don’t crawl over to the dog, grab his tail, and promptly put it in their mouths.  These angels from heaven don’t attempt to throw themselves out of high chairs or find the only thing in the room that could hurt them.  No, these cherubs sit still (or relatively still) for 20-30 minutes.

This just happens to be long enough for a fast thinking, fast chopping, mommy to put together dinner.  There are many wonderful cookbooks aimed at just such chefs.  I have many of these cookbooks.  They are currently collecting dust on my kitchen counter.  I miss them!!  I miss cooking.  I miss my dinners coming out of pots and pans instead of trays and cans.

Because, that’s right my smart reader, I am not a mommy of an angel.  I am not a mommy of a screaming demon either.  I just happen to be a mommy of an over-active 6 month old, with very strong legs and a tight grip.  C rarely throws a tantrum, he just can’t spend any time unsupervised.  Which means most of my dinners come pre-made.  And given that I’ve been trying to lose my baby weight, a lot of my pre-made dinners are weight watchers approved soups and lean cuisines meals.

I’ve found it easiest this last week (my husband has been working around the clock, so it’s just me and the little) to pop open a can of soup and clean the day’s bottles while it heats in the microwave.  Both take about 3 minutes, so it works out perfectly.  And right now you’re probably wondering why you’re reading my glamorous blog….sigh….anyways, the point is that some days I open the new soup and it’s a good soup and somehow it makes me feel better.  The soup warms my stomach and, as cheesy as it sounds, my spirit.  On other days, like today, the soup has far too many green beans, not nearly enough meat, and a strange after-taste.  Days like today, the soup (and my dinner and perhaps my nightly ritual) leaves me wanting more.

C and I celebrated our first Halloween last night.  The little guy was dressed as a spider.  He seemed to like it.  Actually, he didn’t seem to care either way, but the costume had all those extra legs on it, so he enjoyed putting those in his mouth.

The rest of my family came over to see him and he was the joyful center of our little universe for a few hours.  Next year will be even more fun as he’ll be able to walk around on his own and will probably be enjoying candy (yum).  My mom and I are already discussing what we are going to do with him.  Trick or treating? Halloween carnival?  Block party?

I’m thinking C’s costume next year will be Bam Bam.  Years ago my husband and I dressed up as Barney and Betty Rubble.  It was adorable!  And frankly, the costumes were incredibly easy to make.  The only problem is currently it’s a little snug.  Well…more than a little snug.  But I have a whole year to lose the rest of my baby weight and get into that short, tight, bright blue dress.  Yay! I can’t wait for another Halloween!

Or the lack thereof, actually.

You’ll notice if you look at my post entitled “back again” I made no promises this time.  I did not promise to write every day, or even every other day.  I knew I would never be able to keep these promises for one primary reason: my inconsistent sleep.

There are days, even weeks at times, when I get a solid 8-9 hours nightly.  C exhibits no troubles.  No tummy aches, no growing pains, no teething.  And then there are weeks like this one.  There are weeks when I am lucky to get four hours in a row, when REM sleep seems like a crazy dream, when I look like I’ve had my nose broken my dark circles are so deep.  During these weeks I am lucky to eat three times a day and make sure my little man has enough clean clothes, let alone try to finish my course work or housework.

But what is most frustrating about these types of weeks is how much pain little C seems to be in.  This is one of the most frustrating and heart breaking things about motherhood, something no one warned me about, something I’m not sure anyone could properly explain unless you’ve lived it.  Watching C suffer is the greatest frustration of all.  He cannot speak and yet he suffers so greatly.  I wish he could just point to the problem so I could fix it!

Perhaps this is why infants don’t develop memories, so they won’t have to remember the pain.  Perhaps this is God’s way of teaching parents what it is like to let children go later on, for we’ll have little control then either.  I feel like there must be a lesson in here somewhere, but for now I’m too tired to figure it out.

Try to put a baby on a schedule.

Seriously! This will drive anyone crazy.  All the books (and several annoying moms) tell anyone who will listen how important it is to get your baby on a schedule, as soon as possible.  My question is why? Why does my baby need a strict schedule? Do they have a job to get to?  Is someone counting on them to show up on time to something? No! All they need to do is get bigger.  That is their job!  And as far as I know, there is no schedule for that.

The books, and moms, told me that putting my son on a schedule will guarantee a happy childhood for C, and therefore a happy mommyhood for me.  Feeling pressured I have attempted to put C on a schedule, everyday, for the last 6 months.  So far here is the schedule we have: 8:00-8:30pm bath, 8:30-9:00pm get ready for bed, 9:00pm bottle.  That’s it.  That’s the only part of the schedule we can actually stick to.  Well, most of the time.  There are some days when even that doesn’t happen, because really, spending some extra quality time with Nanna is worth more to me than making sure C get’s his bottle at exactly 9:00pm.

All this isn’t meant to imply that we don’t have a feeding schedule.  We DEFINITELY do! In fact, our entire day revolves around making sure C eats every 3 hours.  But sometimes the day starts at 7am, sometimes at 9am.  And I, for one, am not going to force him awake at 7am.  I am going to sleep!!  Once we are awake though, we are rigid about our eating.  Our entire day revolves around this!

I wish our day could revolve around nap time.  Maybe this is a fantasy, but it’s a nice fantasy.  I’ve heard some mothers say how their baby goes down for naps like clockwork everyday at 11am and 3pm, and bed promptly at 8.  I do not live in that world.  I don’t think I’m even in the same universe.

C fights sleep from the second he starts yawning.  It takes everything I have to get him to lie down and sleep for 20 minutes by himself.  Sometimes this process takes only 5 minutes, other times it will take nearly an hour to get him asleep.  This does not work well with any kind of nap schedule.  The only sleep I can count on is when he gets that last bottle of the day.  By the time the last drop leaves the nipple, C is asleep.  Sometimes I will just hold him awhile to make sure, paranoid about any sudden movement or unnecessary noise.  And when at last he goes down, I try to follow shortly after, because if I’m lucky he won’t wake until 7am, if I’m not he’ll (and by that I mean we’ll all) be up at 4.