Sherpa Akimbo

So I'm sitting here on the couch, Abby snoozing next to me. She is OUT. Unfortunately, she didn't drink enough formula before she fell asleep, so I know she'll be up soon to have some more. The only reason this is unfortunate is that I need to go to CVS and the vet before physical therapy, and I don't want to leave until Abby's belly is full and she is fat & happy. Waking a sleeping infant, especially to feed her, doesn't seem to work very well for me.

In other news, however, guess who is (sort-of) sleeping through the night! She has, for the past several days, had her last bottle some time around 10-11 pm and not wakened until 5 am for another one! Not only does this mean Mommy gets a lot more sleep, it means that Mommy gets to say hello to her husband in the morning (who wakes at 5 am to go to work) instead of being comatose while he gets up and out the door. All good. We are hoping that this long sleep time of hers is not a temporary thing caused by her cold. Abby and Mommy both have colds, you see, and we both like to sleep longer when we have colds. We also both like to whine when we have colds.

Abby is getting cuter every day. She has a huge, toothless smile and she flashes it often. She also talks -- well, babbles -- all day long. Like her mother, any time she is awake, she is sharing her thoughts with the world. She is starting to grab and hold toys, and for the first time she has noticed her mobile. Her eyes look like they might stay blue, like her daddy's. I love the way she sleeps, with her arms straight out to her sides. What a sweet innocence, to feel so safe and protected that you can assume such a vulnerable posture and expect nothing bad to happen. My theory is that half the reason I tend to curl up with fists under my chin while I sleep is that I'm preparing to fight off some demon or other. Bob and weave. Of course, even if I wanted to sleep arms akimbo, there'd be no room in our queen-sized bed because together, even curled up, D and I make up a king-sized person.

Speaking of arms akimbo, I walk that way, too, to keep my balance. The exercises my physical therapists have given me for my back and core ab muscles are great and they work really well. I don't manage to do them every day (somehow, Torchwood seems more important sometimes), but I wish I did. Still, my balance is not what it should be, and lately my knees occasionally have been buckling and my ankles are aching. I haven't fallen down, but a few times I haven't been able to pick Abby up out of her bouncy seat (on the floor) on the first try because my legs failed me. This is not good. I clearly need to work on the muscles in my legs, but the PTs think that if I start doing too much work with my legs before my core is stronger, my back is just going to get worse. Since the left side of my rib cage already feels like it's encased in hot cement, I don't really want my back to feel any worse. So, it's kind of a rock-and-a-hard-place kind of situation. I need a baby sherpa.

In the area of good news, my employer has just extended maternity leave benefits to 18 weeks at full pay. This is fabulous news. Not only do I get to spend more time intimately with Abby, but I have a longer time to prepare for the stress and shock of being back at work after nearly a year off. My last day of work was April 4, 2007. My next day of work will be March 24, 2008. Can you imagine? I feel like I have forgotten everything I knew (which wasn't much in the first place). I have had two staff members turn over while I was gone and another get engaged to be married. I hope I will use some of my remaining maternity leave to read up on the latest ethics rulings (I do ethics law, in case you didn't know), etc., but somehow I think I'll probably watch Torchwood instead. The other bit of work-related good news is that the firm has agreed to allow me to start back to work from home, instead of from the office. This is excellent news, mostly because I don't think I have the stamina to commute every day and also spend all day sitting at a desk, but also because I love working from home and I love cutting the 1.5-2-hour commute out of my day. I will be proposing a time period, probably for the rest of 2008, to try the work-from-home scenario and then we can reevaluate whether it's working for everyone and should be continued. I am optimistic!

One more thing about motherhood. I'm not that worried about day care, when it comes time for Abby to go there, but I am finding it extremely nerve-wracking (read: impossible) to choose a non-family babysitter to stay alone with Abby for a few hours here and there. I guess I feel like not much bad can happen to her while she's in a fully-staffed center with lots of adults and other kids around, but who knows what will go on with some stranger alone in our house? This is a problem. Did you other moms (or dads) feel like this?

OK, I think I have no choice but to wake the baby and try to get her ready to run errands. It's rainy outside. Sigh. I'd much rather stay in, cuddle up with her on the couch, and watch Torchwood.

6-8 Weeks!?!

Isn't he adorable? Poor Sid. He has a high ankle sprain, and will be out 6-8 weeks. Poor Pens. Can we make the playoffs without him?? [for those of you who don't know, (i) this is Penguins superstar Sidney Crosby, and (b) get off my blog -- you don't deserve to be here.]

What Was I Thinking?

How could I possibly have dreamed that I could get through this whole new-mom, no-sleep, hormonal-tsunami time in my life without chocolate?

I was so determined to begin to lose weight and to resume cooking and eating more healthfully after I came out of those first comatose weeks, that I actually went through the cupboards and threw away perfectly good chocolate! Dark chocolate Dove bites, a Hershey's truffle collection I got for Christmas, a couple milk-chocolate Hershey bars, and a couple of dark-chocolate Hershey's after-dinner chocolate sticks. I must have been mad. I compromised by buying some fat-free, sugar-free chocolate pudding cups. Those are fine, don't get me wrong. I also use Ovaltine (no caffeine, lots of vitamins and calcium) to get some chocolate in me. But there's something about the mouthfeel of chocolate, to paraphrase the oenologists. Not to mention the sugar/caffeine boost. Yes, I must have been mad.

So I have to go now and replenish my chocolate stores. The women's magazines all suggest that you have one bite a day, of the darkest chocolate (with the highest concentration of cacao) you can find, in order to obtain the beneficial antioxidants and get a "fix", but I don't find that remotely satisfactory. For one thing, really cocoa-heavy chocolate is chalky and, of course, more bitter. I'll get my antioxidants from blueberries and tomatoes and omega-3s and walnuts, thank you. For another, one tiny bite a day is not enough. When I eat chocolate, I want soft, buttery, melty goodness, and plenty of it. I think I might have to resort to Sarris chocolate.

Sarris is a chocolate company from Canonsburg, PA, which is about a twenty-minute drive from my hometown of Washington, PA. Sarris has a delightful shop in Canonsburg, a chocolate and ice-cream shop that overwhelms the eye and nose with chocolates and sweets from floor to ceiling. At Christmas and Easter there are enormous chocolate castles centrally displayed. You can buy a peanut-butter ice cream sundae with a hard-chocolate sauce that will make you want to eat nothing else for the rest of your life. You can buy chocolate ice skates, hearts, teddy bears, Harley-Davidsons. You can buy icebergs of bulk chocolate, or gilt boxes of delicate truffles. You can try the most delicious chocolate-covered pretzels in the world. My personal favorites are peanut-butter meltaways. My mother could probably eat three pounds at one sitting of their coconut easter eggs.

I wanted Sarris for my wedding favors, but it's difficult to ship chocolates in the middle of July. Now, however, it's frigid and icy outside -- perfect! When I'm done posting, I'm going online shopping.

http://www.sarriscandies.com/

p.s. Hello, Dave! It's almost Valentine's Day . . . . .

Stupid legs. Stupid Neurons.

By the way, D and the kids (S & R, of course, not AJ) went skiing today. I wish I were with them.

Careening from One Place to Another

In the middle of the night, while Abby contendedly slurps away at her bottle and I rock slowly in the pink toile Dutailier chair (yes, I drank the Kool-Aid), I have dozens of ideas for my blog. Even if they're only random thoughts, at least they're thoughts. Somehow, once the day begins, in a blur of trying to keep her fed & happy while getting us both bathed, the ideas evaporate. Maybe this is why one woman, for a baby shower gift, got me a small note pad that matches the nursery. Maybe she knew I'd need some way to capture those fleeting thoughts. Now I just have to find the notepad, and get it and a pen up to the nursery. Don't hold your breath.

I find it amazing, the way that one's feelings can turn on a dime. Anyone who knows me well knows that I'm particularly susceptible to that mercurial shifting -- but what I'm referring to is more benign, and in a way, more interesting. When Abigail starts, at say, 3 o'clock a.m., to fuss, squeak and chirp over the monitor in such a way that I know she'll be up and bellowing for a warm bottle within 10 minutes, I groggily lie there, thinking (and sometimes saying aloud) things like, "Oh, God. Please, baby, please go back to sleep." Or, "Ugh . . . didn't you just finish eating two hours ago?" Or, the thought crosses my mind to poke D and say, "I just can't possibly do this right now. Get up, won't you?" All these things pass through my mind with some level of frustration and maybe even anger. I definitely feel put-upon, during those few moments, as I shrug on my robe and find my slippers. I careen towards the bedroom door, my knees locking awkwardly, my hands grabbing for bedpost or dresser to keep from keeling over. My balance and leg muscles more out of whack than ever when I'm sleepwalking, you see -- and I really get annoyed by that. Then, I walk into the nursery and look down into the crib, murmuring, "Mommy's here, baby. It's okay, Mommy's here." I see one of three things: a peaceful baby who's fallen back asleep since I got up; a baby stretching and reaching and squinting as she tries to fight off sleep; or a red-faced baby squalling -- until she hears my voice. When she hears me, she calms and starts looking around for me, with her bottomless blue eyes and her little bow mouth working to say something to me. I fall deeply in love all over again, and I am so happy.

Ladies Who Brunch

Today is one of those days when I ate brunch instead of breakfast, because Abby didn't cooperate with her usual nap following her morning feeding. In fact, she's only just now regained her composure. She flipped out during a frenetic change of diaper and clothing after she pooed all over the place, including every piece of her clothing and up her back. Right now, she is snoozing on a pillow next to me on the family room couch, and she is smiling widely in her sleep. I love that, and hate it when she looks as though she's having a bad dream. She is my darling girl.

Daddy is in NYC today, and was last night, which means that I've missed the breaks that he so frequently gives me, so I am more tired than usual. The house is also a disaster from the company we had this weekend (friends on Saturday night as well as our kids, S and R). Six kids can really destroy a playroom, let me tell you. One of these hours I might actually try to get up and go straighten some things, as well as begin to wash the mountain of clothes in our laundry basket. Or I might just drink a cup of decaf tea and take a nap.

Hallelujah!! D and I are going to Las Vegas in March. Partly because he's got training there, partly for my birthday. I can't wait. I like Vegas a lot anyway, but now I feel an actual desperation to have FUN. This trip is coming at a very good time. I don't really want to leave Abby for three nights, but she'll be with Grandbob, who not only dotes on her and raised my husband, but is also a doctor, so how much better could a sitter get? I will miss her a lot, but I really need and want to get away and enjoy a break with D.

I'm looking around for a church to join and in which to have Abby Jane baptized. I don't have the energy to pontificate about the Episcopal church and the parishes I've visited right now, but you can be assured that I will soon.

Physical therapy has begun again. I am doing the most infinitesimally small core exercises, and the next day I feel like I've done hundreds of crunches. The first step is to rebuild my core (abs and back muscles, for those of you who aren't up on Pilates-speak), to relieve my back pain and to give me a solid base. After that we'll turn to more strengthening in arms and legs. I feel like none of the muscles in my entire body is working properly. I am beyond back to square one -- as weak as anything -- but I do somehow feel like the main issue is muscle atrophy, no longer the neurological aspect of things. We'll see -- I go back to the neurosurgeon and neurologist the second week of February. One piece of evidence in support of that viewpoint is the situation with my eyes. I saw the neuro-opthalmologist again last week, and after doing all their measurements, they pronounced me normal and discharged me from their care. Amazing, huh?

OK. I have a lot more to say, but I'm starving, so I'm going to go find something healthy to eat before Bunny wakes up and wants to have another bottle.

p.s. I don't do new year's resolutions, and this year I didn't even do the usual assessment I do -- to write about what good things happened in the year past, the ways I've grown, etc. Maybe I'm just too busy with Abby. Or maybe it's because, subconsciously, I don't feel like anything good happened in the year past. An unfortunate way to think about the year in which your only biological daughter, one of the loves of your life, was born.

Some Photos From Our Christmases

Our Little Village

Abby loves me, but I think she might already be a daddy's girl. Of course, she's with me all day -- she gets overstimulated (read: sick of me) just like I do. But when Daddy is around, it's all good. If I hold her the way D is, in the picture above, she squirms and fusses til I turn her horizontal again. With him -- she could lie on his chest like that for hours, happily snoozing. This photo was taken in the hospital, but to my pleasure I have been treated to similar views nearly every day since Abby came home. I love seeing them together -- can you blame me?

For her part, Abigail is so big I almost don't recognize her. More pictures forthcoming, I promise, but for now, take my word for it. She is huge! She spends a lot more of the day awake, too, which is truly fun. She also makes smells and noises not unlike a baby pig. :) I adore her.

The other thing I don't recognize lately is me. Lord, I can't WAIT to start physical therapy again. I never thought I'd actually look forward to exercising. Everyone says I look good for someone who's just had a baby, but even if that's true, I don't recognize the size, shape, or texture of my body and I don't like it one bit. I want to be able to MOVE (and I want to fit into my clothes!).

At this moment I am trying to type with both hands, but it's not working very well. I am getting a lot of extra "Q"s and "W"s. My left hand dexterity really isn't there yet. As for walking, I've pretty much stopped using the walker except when things are bad (usually at the end of a long day). I even managed Border's yesterday and today's ob-gyn appointment without it. I stumble around a bit, and move very slowly, but I carried a grande decaf skim no-foam latte across the doctor's office lobby! I could be wrong (I often am), but I think that maybe the only thing that remains a real obstacle for me is complete muscle atrophy. Between my illness, the pregnancy, and my c-section, I sometimes feel like I don't have a muscle in my body that works. I still have to use my hands to lift my feet into the car. When I'm really tired (like wee-hour feedings of Little Miss), I still careen around the house a bit. My back is so weak, spasming and sore, sometimes I can't get up out of a chair with Abby Jane in my arms. This is why I am so looking forward to working out. Anyway, I'll let you know how it goes. They've told me that I can bring Abby -- that ought to be interesting. I'm looking for a sitter, but haven't found one yet.

We just enjoyed a long holiday visit with S & R. There are strange and difficult things about being non-custodial parents, and they get stranger when you add a non-stepchild into the mix. S, my 6-year-old stepdaughter, was trying to figure out yesterday why her baby sister, Caitlin (her mother's new baby with her second husband) was not related in any way to her new baby sister, Abby. Not stepsisters? Not half sisters or cousins? Maybe S has it right; maybe there should be some kind of "village" mentality that acknowledges that we are all related in some ways.

The Best Reason I've Heard

Our 4-year-old, R, recently informed us he has a girlfriend in his preschool class. Why does he like little Alexa? "Because she laughs when I laugh."