Test flight to Paradise

The trip to Puerto Vallarta went well. The flight there went very smoothly, and Little Man charmed the flight attendants. One of them was on our return flight and she asked to hold him :)

For years, I've followed the rule of packing less clothes than I think I'll need, because I inevitably come home with unused/unworn items, and I hate humping around heavy cases.  But this time, I was traveling with a baby, and had to keep in mind that he would spit-up on my clothes and his. I actually did a great job of packing for all three of us. Just enough left-over clothes to last us a couple more days, if needed.

Bringing breast-milk through security was a little bit of a hassle. TSA opened the bottles and held little sticks over them. They also double-inspected the carry-on bags. I was half-expecting a strip-search, but didn't get one, thankfully :) Bringing the stroller and the car seat through was a bit of work, but we weren't charged extra for stowing them when we got to the plane.

In Puerto Vallarta, we had a long wait to clear immigration. In customs, I pushed the button and apparently drew the log straw because we didn't have to have our luggage inspected. It was warm and tropical and quite lovely.  It cost 180 pesos to get from the airport to our hotel in the Marina District -- that's about USD 15.00

It soon became apparent that PV has been Americanized. Walmarts and Costcos and Gallerias. And Starbucks and Chilis. But there is still Mexican culture once you're off the tourista circuit. And great Mexican food. The days there developed a rhythm. Little Man would wake up between 7 and 8am (CST) and I would hustle him out of the room so Daddy could sleep.  I'd have a leisurely breakfast outdoors (usually tea and poached eggs) and then I'd wander the hotel grounds with Little Man, trying to keep to the shaded spots as much as possible. Then, sometime around noon, I'd head back to the room and roust M out of bed. Noon in PV is still only 10am at home, and that's not much of a vacation-sleeping-in for him. It was easier to get him up once I could offer him ice cold Mexican Coke as his wake-up beverage :)

Once M was ambulatory, we'd head out for lunch, then go back to the hotel room for a siesta. Around 4 or 5 we'd head for the pool and the beach with the baby and play for an hour or so. Then back to the hotel room to cool off. Dinner was a local place. Seafood or Italian, usually, since M isn't a big fan of burritos and enchiladas and the like. Stroll around and watch the fireworks displays around 8pm, then back to the hotel room. Baby and I would crash and M would play on his computer until... whenever he went to sleep.

I managed to avoid buying souveniers from peddlars on the beach. I'm just not a wanter. And whenever I look at that stuff I just picture it stuffed away in a box somewhere, wasting space.

Leaving Puerto Vallarta was pretty simple. The airport is beautiful and modern, and the staff are very courteous. We had no hassles with customs or immigration. The flight home went very well. We actually got to San Francisco 40 minutes early. The problem was the descent. We got an early slot and the pilot was in a hurry to make it so the descent was very rapid and Little Man's ears (and mine, and M's and probably everyone else's) didn't handle the changes in air pressure very well. He cried that last 20 minutes or so, poor little guy. The bottle and pacifier didn't help. I did learn an important lesson ... don't bounce or rock a crying baby on a plane -- he might get airsick. Oops! Ah well. It's part of being a mom.

Coming back into the States was pretty easy. Showed passports and declaration. Waved through customs.

10 minute taxi ride home.
Home.
There really is no place like home.

Home after the Holidays

We traveled nearly 600 miles in 5 days. Traffic was awful for parts of it -- we spent nearly 20 hours in the car. We saw about 50 people -- family, friends, and friends of family. Through it all, Little Man was great. We got a lot of compliments on his disposition. Such a sweet, easy baby. So surprisingly fearless with strangers and pets.  He warmed hearts with his big smiles, laughed at the antics of all the pets, and rarely fussed. He just needed down-time with The Momma once in a while.

M met the rest of my family, namely my step-sisters and their children. We also spent some time with my sister, which was much less tense than it could have been given the hell she put us all through the past couple of years. It looks like, at 40, she's finally getting herself together. He also met my mother's brother, and the rest of Annette's family. Her large Portuguese family :) But then, he's got a large family, himself, and I'll get to meet all of them in a few weeks, so I guess we're even.

The Road to Truly Happy

I've known M a long time. Since 1998. He came to my attention because he's a brilliant puzzle-solver, and he was the first to solve a quest in an online game I co-created... a quest that had gone unsolved for 3 years. Technically, he's a brilliant gamer, and truth be told, in my 15+ years of watching over that particular game, I never saw anyone play it better. He was so good people assumed he cheated somehow, myself included, until I checked the logs. I could see his various attempts, the trial and error prior to success, and I recognized in him someone who understood the game on multiple-levels: as a coder, as a puzzle-solver, as a role-player. In was an enviable understanding, one that spawned enmity in some who also played the game.

In 2003, he and my partner had a falling-out in-game, and she was such a royal bitch to him that I felt sorry for him. I took an interest in this person who unwittingly brought upon himself the ire of an often irrational woman -- a woman who rarely interacted with men online long enough to get so upset with them. When I queried him as to what had happened, he impressed me by saying that gentlemen don't kiss-and-tell, so I would have to ask her. When I asked her, she became very upset and defensive. I figured she'd done something she shouldn't have and was worried I'd find out, so I let it be. Our relationship had been over for quite some time -- I was just waiting for her to realize it and break things off, since she had quite a victim complex and I didn't want to play into it by breaking things off with her myself.


Meanwhile, the more I learned about M, the more I liked him, and by mid-2004 we were good friends. He was a rather solitary sort of boy-man who seemed reasonably content with his life. He had moved to the US from Canada and put his wunderkind skills to use in Silicon Valley to great financial and professional success. He liked his online and console games, his weekly Dungeons & Dragons night, played pool regularly, and dated a bit here and there. He sometimes asked for advice with regards to women, and I was honest with him: women want to feel heard, and they want to feel like someone is on their side. If you can convince a woman that you're listening and you're on her side, you're in. I also acknowledged that women play games, that it's socialized into us at a very young age, and that while women often defy logic, we're not completely irrational. The key to understanding us is understanding that we're consistent within a particular moment, as it appears to us, rather than across time.  In other words, we're generally unpredictable (or as men prefer to say "crazy") -- our behavior cannot be modeled or systematized reliably, so don't bother.

Over time he realized that I wasn't like most women -- I could program (in whatever limited capacity, especially compared to him) and think critically, I was smart enough to catch him and call him on his shit, and most importantly, I didn't flip out when he called me on mine. He was also fascinated by my lifestyle once S and I went our separate ways and I started dating and living life on my own terms again. We developed a mutual respect and admiration for each other, and supported each other through personal and professional ups and downs. I often described my life using terms like "awesome" and "incredible" and "fulfilling". He used words like "good" and "ok." He was rarely unhappy, I noticed, but he was also rarely truly happy.

Until recently. Fast forward 8 years and it's wonderful to see the changes in him. He's finally chosen where he wants to be (US rather than Canada) which means he's finally put down roots in a place that feels like 'home'. He's happy with how his career is going. But most of all, he's just thrilled to be a daddy. Now that Little Man is more independent of me and becoming more of his own person, it's amazing how the two of them have bonded. It is wonderful to see how much fun M has with him, and how much joy he takes in just being with his son. It helps that Little Man is so transparently joyful around his father.

Earlier today M purred as I massaged his shoulder with one hand and cradled a sleeping Little Man in the other. His face was smooth and a smile hovered on his mouth. I commented to him that the past couple of months he's been happier than I've ever known him. He sighed contentedly in response. It is important to me that the people I love be happy -- their happiness is integral to my own. M is truly, deeply happy, and it feels good knowing my part in it.

Living in the 1950's

Some days I feel like I'm living someone else's idea of a dream life, something out of the 1950's.

I live in a house with a white picket fence in front. Yes, really. It's a beautiful mid-century home. I can say this without prejudice because the appraiser who came by yesterday complimented us on it. It's not in the most desirable area of town (if it was, it would have cost 3x as much) but I happen to love the diversity, friendliness, and walkability of the neighborhood (91 on WalkScore.com). The weather is about as perfect as you can get (not too hot, not too cold), I can garden to my heart's content, and the backyard is completely private.

I have a beautiful little boy, a little boy who appeared like magic in my womb after 20 years of angst-free infertility. Babies were never on my bucket list, but if they had been, I would have wished for one like Little Man. He's an easy, happy baby, one who even tries to smile through his tears when he's in pain from gas that won't pass. I'm madly in love with him, and occasionally struggle with the fear that something will happen to him, probably because I've become so intimate with loss in recent years.

I have the love of a good man -- a brilliant, funny, kind man -- who is an excellent breadwinner. We had a couple of lean years during his start-up days but these days we're fortunate enough not to have any financial worries. In many ways our relationship looks very traditional: He goes to work and I stay at home, keeping house and baking gingerbread cookies, greeting him at the door with the baby in my arms and the puppy-cat at my feet. I balance him out, balance his intensity and introversion, and he seeks my opinions and usually heeds my advice. We take care of each other, and it just so happens that we're following traditional gender roles -- for now.

So, here I am, living in my 1950's home, living a 1950's life (minus the Valium). I even wear my grandmother's 1950's aprons sometimes. And I'm acutely aware that this is what my sister Tammy wanted. She wanted the house with the white picket fence and the babies and puppies. The "normal" Leave It To Beaver life we never knew as children. But she, like me, was infertile, and learning that changed her life. She gave up on her dream and pursued something wildly different, and though she succeeded beyond expectations, she was never truly happy with her life.

Me, I'm happy. Probably because I haven't given up on anything. Put some things on hold because of the baby, perhaps, but I don't feel like I'm making any unreasonable sacrifices. The thing I miss most is solitude, and upon reflection, I realize this is something I am giving up on -- for now.

This isn't the life I'd imagined for myself -- that life was a little house on the coast or in the mountains near a body of water, with lots of time to mediate and to read and write, and lots of friends visiting. A quiet life with opportunity for solitude but not lonely. I enjoy my own company too much to ever be lonely.

No, this isn't the life I'd imagined for myself -- but its the perfect life for me, because it's where I am and where I choose to be. Even if it does look a bit like the 1950's ;)

I'm blessed, and I know it.

Relationship after baby

I was prepared for our relationship to change as a result of Little Man's arrival, and things have changed. Not really for better or worse. They're just different.

I knew our relationship was pretty solid -- it was a major factor in my choice to proceed with a high-risk unplanned pregnancy at age 43 -- but it's proving even more solid than I'd thought. Or perhaps it's that having a baby together has gelled things for us even further. It feels good. Feels right. We're relaxed and happy with each other most of the time, and that impacts Little Man. He's a very easy, happy, loving baby. In the past month, as the baby has gotten a little more independent of me, M has really stepped up his game. He takes Little Man off my hands and has learned to distinguish between a fussy baby that he can console, and one who can only be consoled by mommy. I actually got to spend an hour digging in the garden this weekend, putting arabian jasmine and hibiscus in the ground, and digging up and transplanting a bird of paradise, some fountain grass, lavender, and rosemary. I got dirt under my fingernails and sweat in my eyes and it felt good!

I really like the relationship I have with Little Man's father. He's a good man, a kind and appreciative man. His biggest complaint about me is that I don't give him enough opportunity to do things for me. His second biggest complaint is that I'm not back to normal emotionally. I know that he was looking forward to having me "back" once the baby was born, and I did warn him that I'd still be under the influence of hormones while I'm lactating, but, well, I'm just not as unflappable as I was before-baby, and that is hard on him.  There are moments when he really irritates the hell out of me. Most of the time I know it's about me -- know that he is who he is and if something he does irritates me, that's about me, not him. It's not his nature to deliberately try to piss me off, and sometimes... sometimes I have to remind myself of that. Just like I remind him not to take my irritability personally. Being over-tired and hormonal does strange things to people, and all we can do is try to keep our heads and be compassionate with each other in the aftermath of any heated exchanges.

He's still my best friend, M is. I enjoy his company. He makes me laugh. I can talk with him about just about anything. He's communicative about his unmet needs, which keeps baby-related resentments to a minimum. He's incredibly supportive. He's always asking me what he can do for me, how he can help me achieve my goals. I'm incredibly grateful that he is such a strong breadwinner that he can support our family on his income alone -- in the Bay Area, which is so incredibly expensive to live in. And in exchange, I do my best to be frugal. He is often exasperated by my frugality, so he doesn't give me a hard time when I do spend money. I've done really well with regards to spending on the baby -- scored a lot of great stuff on Craig's List. I actually just bought the first item of baby clothes at a store last week -- an outfit for family photos next month.


Before the photos, we're going on a trip to Puerto Vallarta. I wanted to get some experience with airports and flying with the baby before heading off to Canada to meet M's family at Christmas time. When he asked where I wanted to go, I told him a quick hop to Las Vegas, or LA, or maybe San Diego for a night or two. He knows I don't care for Vegas or LA, and he wasn't interested in San Diego, so he suggested Hawaii. I love Hawaii, particularly the Big Island, but for a first time flight with a 5 month old, a 5 hour trip is daunting. However, given that we do have a passport for Little Man already, that opened up the possibility of flying south, to Mexico. Cabo San Lucas was our first thought, but then a friend suggested the more tropical Puerto Vallerta, which is just a 3.5 hour flight from SFO. Given that we were in Bali just a year ago, I've definitely got what we need for the tropics -- including SPF 50 for the baby.

As for Little Man, he's developing quite well. He's not the butter-ball people expect breastmilk-fed babies to be, though he does have a little roll on each of his thighs. He's sitting up under his own power most of the time -- until he loses interest in being upright, and then he falls over like a puppet. He's started taking control of his bottle from me when he doesn't like how I'm holding it, and as long as it's not too full, he can feed himself. Now that I've finally gotten rid of laryngitis and am talking to him more, he's more talkative -- doing his baby babble. I am amazed by how his dexterity improves daily. His strong little legs support him very well when I've got them shoulder-width apart, and his balance is improving enough that he can stand unsupported for about 5 seconds at a time. He's a cheerful baby, charming people with his big grins, and is rarely fussy or cranky in public. I took him into San Francisco to meet up with Jem and her daughter Rosie for lunch and a museum tour and he did great the whole trip -- including both legs of the BART ride.

Life is good. Not at all what I expected for myself at this age. But good. I'm blessed, and I know it.

Time flies

The past few weeks have been busy ones.

Little Man seems to be developing more rapidly. He moved his walker toward me for the first time. He's started doing repetitive gestures, like putting his pacifier in his mouth and pulling it out, again and again. I notice him inspecting things with his hands and his eyes. This morning he was laying on my chest and we were doing some eye-gazing. He reached his little hand out and stroked my cheek. I smiled. He stroked my cheek again. And again. I stroked the side of his face with my fingertips. His eyes widened and his mouth made this little 'O' of surprise. He stroked my face and I stroked his, too, and then he smiled beatifically at me. It was a moment of real connection and intimacy that left me glowing inside.

My days seem to fly by. We still don't have a routine down yet, but I'm working on it.

During the day he naps for very short periods of time, usually 10 to 20 minutes, every two to three hours. Every once in a while he will nap for an hour or more, but it is sadly quite rare, so I rarely have time to myself to do the simplest things, never mind write blog posts. I'm somehow managing to keep up with laundry and most days, the dishes, but the floors and bathrooms are rather neglected.  To top things off, the acid reflux is still making me cough at night, and I've had laryngitis for weeks. It's pretty miserable.

The new fence we had installed looks phenomenal. I hadn't realized how much effort it took not to notice the ugliness of the old fence when I was on the patio or gardening in the back yard. Of course the reason we replaced it wasn't primarily aesthetic-- it was safety. It was leaning rather dangerously in a few spots and dry rot and termites had damaged enough of the boards that I worried Alex might scuttle through by moving a board aside. But no more.  We're in the process of water sealing the fence, which is time consuming given that it's 220 feet long, 6 feet high, with another foot of lattice.

 Now I'm looking forward to updating the landscaping, moving some plants around. I've got a hydrangea that needs to be moved now that the city cut down the big trees in the parking strip-- it's getting too much afternoon sun. And the impatiens solenii that I planted this spring are getting too much sun, too. Conversely, the previous owners planted day lilies and African irises on the north facing side of the house, so they hardly bloom. I'll be moving them and planting them around the bottlebrush tree, which produces a natural herbicide that keeps grasses and weeds at bay, but which doesn't seem to bother bulbs/corms. The Arabian jasmine and the hibiscus will be going into the ground soon, once things cool down a bit more. I still have to decide whether I'm going put the wisteria in the ground or leave it in the planter. The nice thing about living in California is that it's rarely a bad time to plant, and nearly everything grows. The difficulty lies in finding the time to garden with an infant needing my attention.

We're looking at taking a short holiday somewhere so we can get the flight experience in with Little Man before the big year-end trip to meet M's grandmothers. His passport arrived in the mail this week, which opens up the possibility of a trip to Cabo San Lucas as well as Vegas and Hawaii.  M would prefer somewhere tropical-- it's been a year since our trip to Bali. I'm just not sure I want our trial flight to be 5 hours long (Hawaii).

4 months already

My friend DaTo rode into town last weekend and stayed through Thursday morning. He was an easy guest. I enjoy his energy and low-key company, and Little Man really seemed to take to him. 15 years ago we were a couple -- today we are good friends. It doesn't make sense to me that people fall in love and later break up and never have anything to do with each other again. Relationships change -- this is inevitable -- but if we really love someone, what we love about them doesn't change. That is why I think it is important to be grown-ups and find a way to let go of the past romantic relationship and grow a new one that works in the new circumstances. It is how I maintain a rich life full of love and connection that spans decades and continents. I am fortunate that my partner, M, has known me so long that he is (mostly) comfortable with these apparently unusual circumstances. He's met most of my previous partners because I'm fortunate to still be close with most of them, and so far he hasn't objected to anyone. I'm hoping that as we raise Little Man he will follow in my footsteps with regards to forming relationships and maintaining them through their various iterations. I think he'll be a happier, more connected individual as a result.

This weekend is going to be a flurry of activity. We're taking advantage of the Smithsonian Free Museum Day to visit CuriOdyssey, which is just a mile or so from our house. I think I'll be bringing Little Man there quite a lot over the upcoming years. We'll also be visiting an open house on a house for sale a few blocks from us. We've recently had our home appraised for refinancing, and it's come back far better than we anticipated -- this home for sale is 300 sq feet smaller than ours, has had similar renovations, and is for sale at $50k more than we bought ours for last year. If it sells as fast as the other houses in our area have been, we'll feel pretty good about our decision to buy this place, as well as the price we paid for it.

We're also having the old fences taken down and a new one installed starting on Monday, which means I need to find time to trim back the plantings along the property line in order to make sure the fencers have access and to minimize damage to the landscaping. The fence will be redwood in the board-on-board good neighbor style with a foot of square lattice on top. It will pull together the Mediterr-Asian style we've been creating for the house and grounds. Last weekend we removed the ivy that had over-grown about 50 feet of fence. It revealed a lot of damage to the fence, so we're hoping that the neighbors will agree not to allow ivy to grow on the fence any more.  It's difficult to communicate this because they are a Mandarin-speaking older couple and their son isn't around very often for translating. But we'll work it out.

Once the fence is completed and water-sealed, we're pretty much done with updates to the house for the year.  We'll start the hunt for a japanese maple as an anchor plant for the back yard, and then that's it until Spring, I think.

Meanwhile, Little Man is growing like mad. We've got his 4 month check up next week, and I'll find out how much he weighs and how long he is at that time.  I figure he's at least 15 pounds and 24 inches now. He had a persistent diaper rash that didn't respond to the typical ointments, so we switched to an anti-fungal and it's mostly cleared up.  I think he's starting to teethe as he's using people's fingers as chew toys and he's drooling a lot. He's falling asleep around 9pm and waking for a short feeding break around 1am, then sleeping until 5am-ish. I try to take a nap with him in the afternoon so I'm not feeling sleep deprived.

I'm still struggling with feelings of inadequacy with regards to taking care of the housework and the baby. I'm also trying to take an online class, because I don't want my brain getting any mushier. I'm still lactating so I'm still subject to hormonally-influenced emotional swings, which makes things difficult for me and M, both. I find myself taking things personally that I normally don't, and getting irritable very easily. Ah well.  I'm doing my best to be ok with it, knowing that this, too, shall pass.

Today's one of those PJ days

It's official: I'm one of those new moms who spends the entire day wearing pajamas at least once a week. I do get to shower at least every other day though, and now that the Little Man can hold his head up and he's tall enough to be in his walker, I get to brush my teeth all in one go every day.

I'm extremely fortunate that Little Man is an easy baby. I'm hoping we will continue to be so, but I'm not counting on it. He wakes up all smiles in the morning and he's mostly a fuss-free baby for the rest of the day. That said, he's prone to what I call power-naps (under 30 mins) and is very alert and talkative, so I don't get much opportunity to nap during the day. However, I'm able to get a 4 to 5 hour stretch of uninterrupted sleep each night, which is a blessing.

I'm still pumping milk every 3.5 to 4 hours (except for that 5 hour stretch at night) and Little Man is still downing nearly 30 ounces of milk each day. Every once in a while I have to open a bottle of formula, but mostly, my supply is keeping up with his demand. I'm actually grateful that he isn't nursing. I miss the intimacy of it, but bottle-feeding is pretty convenient in that 1) someone else can spot me in feeding the baby on occasion, 2) I'm not getting mastitis and Little Man isn't getting thrush and 3) bottle-feeding takes less time than breast-feeding. Little Man didn't like my low-flow nipples -- he wanted his milk NOW -- which is why he refused to transition back to my breast. He'll down 4 ounces of milk in under 10 minutes, rather than 45 minutes, which means we both get to sleep sooner and I am not sore from having to hold him to my breast. Pumping is taking 5 to 10 minutes, and I'd still be pumping even if I he was on the tit, so, really, I'm getting back 30 minutes of my life 5 or 6 times a day. That's three hours. That's an eternity in new-mommy time.

What else?  The quest to start baby-proofing has begun now that little man is starting to squirm around on his belly. The first thing to tackle is the home entertainment unit.  I've had nightmares about the baby teething on the wires and drooling into all those electronics with their pretty lights. After months of searching I found a TV console that will hold the DVR, the PS3, the Wii, the Nintendo, the home theater PC, the gigabit switch, the Denon receiver, and all associated handsets and remotes. It's supposed to be delivered next week, as is the new Klipsch speaker that will just fit into the cabinet drawer specially designed to house center channel speakers. I'm looking forward to all the wires disappearing.  I've worked hard at ignoring them for over a year now. The irony is that we have a data closet with a NAS server and all the equipment for the internet and TV services in it, and we completely wired the house with ethernet, cable, and TV in every room -- but we've still got wires everywhere in the family room. Go figure ;)

We're in the process of re-financing the house because rates have dropped so low. It's a bit of a hassle, but a point is a point and that adds up to tens of thousands of dollars over the long run. The good news is that the house was appraised at 15% higher than what we bought it for 18 months ago, so we've gotten great value for all of the improvements we've done. We've got just one more. We're replacing the 30+ year old perimeter fence next month and then we're done for a while. M promised :)

The GERD situation is slowly improving. The upper GI test didn't show anything unusual other than slower-than-usual movement through the esophagus due to edema -- the stomach acid has caused a fair amount of irritation and swelling. It's still weird to me that I didn't experience heartburn during the pregnancy but I'm getting it now.  All that weird post-pregnancy body-change stuff.

It looks like the little guy is waking up from his nap, so it's time to end this post. Thanks for reading.

I made it through 3 months!

M and I finally got our romantic dinner together last night. Fourth try was a charm :) M's father and sister watched over the Little Man while we ate dinner just a few blocks from home. We dined at The Melting Pot, and this time we ate with enough moderation to get to the chocolate fondue course with room to eat some of it. It was a leisurely two hour meal that reminded me how much I enjoy his company. For all that we are so different, we complement each other. He thanked me for giving him a son. I told him he was the only man I could imagine having a child with. It was a good night.

Little Man is three months old now. He's been a lot of fun for his grandfather and aunt, and a very easy baby. Normally he's very alert for long periods of time interspersed with occasional power-naps, but he's going through a growth spurt -- eating often and sleeping for 3 or 4 hours at a time -- so he's easier than usual. And he's such a happy little guy. Grinning and talking (when he's not grumping about having gas), making eye contact, and playing with his toys. He's flipped himself over onto his back as of yesterday, which surprised everyone, including himself.

The weather has been gorgeous here, perfect really. Blue skies, warm days, cool afternoon breezes. I generally spend most of the afternoon outside with Little Man, gathering peaches and tomatoes, monitoring the growth of the summer squash and cucumber, playing with the baby, and listening to audio books. It's a comfortable life, for the most part. M earns good money and provides well or us, and in exchange, I take very good care of us all. Being a stay-at-home mom is very different from the "kept woman" we used to joke about me being, but I can't complain. It's not a life or role I'd ever envisioned myself in, but it is working out. And perhaps that is the key -- I didn't have my heart set on things being a certain way, looking a certain way, etc, so I'm able to go with the flow of What It Is with little friction or disappointment.

The heartburn / acid reflux / GERD situation seems to be improving, though it's a bit early to be certain. I'm still struggling to keep my food intake up, especially protein, and I really notice it in my energy level some days. Humping all 14# of Little Man around, plus pumping breast-milk every 3 to 4 hours, trying to keep up with the housework and coordinating with 5 neighbors to get the fence around our property re-done is wearing me down. And I am pretty sure that is nutritional, because I'm rarely easily worn-out. But apparently all this is pretty normal for new moms. I'll get the hang of it.

Interestingly enough, my PCOS symptoms seem to be abating. I think that the prolonged changes in my hormonal balance due to pregnancy and lactation is over-riding / interrupting that awful cycle of androgen and testosterone generation. It's certainly made weight-loss much easier (read: normal), which itself helps reduce the excess hormones floating around.

The center of the universe

I remember saying to more than one person on more than one occasion that I didn't want to be the center of anyone's universe -- that it was too much responsibility. Yet here I am, the center of an infant's universe. It's a lot of responsibility, but more than that, it's stressful. Taking care of a baby 24/7, no matter how much I adore him, is wearing. It finally occurred to me during a long awaited shower that the terrible heartburn and acid reflux I've been suffering might be stress-related. I'm very good at sublimating stress and just pushing forward -- it's how I got through all the sickness and death from years 2008 through 2010 -- but at some point I have to wake up to the fact that some levels of stress, or stressful situations, are not sustainable.

I am used to copious amounts of me-time. I'm an introvert who has worked hard to balance-out my introversion with a tolerance/appreciation for extraverted activities, but I'm an introvert all the same. One of the great benefits of the Information Age is the ability to maintain contacts with friends and family wherever they, or I, am. But one of the drawbacks is that this ease of remaining in close contact with people far away is that I've neglected developing much in the way of local relationships. I am developing some good relations with my neighbors, one of whom is great with Alex, but with my family all living 3+ hours away, and my best friends all living 500+ miles away, I don't have anyone to help out with Little Man. So I had a talk with his father about needing him to spot me with the baby more.

I do my best to make sure that M gets his full quota of sleep, so I take care of the baby at night as well as during the day. M usually spends 10 or 20 minutes with him her and there throughout the evenings, but usually hands the baby off to me when he starts to fuss. Given that the only time I have to get much done for myself or around the house is when M is entertaining Little Man, I'm always feeling rushed and stressed trying to get things accomplished during those mini-breaks. It's just not sustainable. So we talked, and he acknowledged that I do make things awfully easy on him, and that taking care of the baby 24/7 is a lot of effort. We both know that right now Little Man is completely dependent on me, and that he will slowly outgrow it, but for the next 6 months or so, it's mostly all on me. But there are still things he can do. This weekend he took care of the baby for a couple of hours while I got a much-needed massage. Yesterday he stayed home from work and helped take care of the baby and drove me to the doctor because I'd basically been up for 3 nights with acid-reflux and night coughing and was too exhausted to drive myself.

The good news is that my weight-loss is at a much more sustainable rate of 1-2 pounds a week (I've dropped 12# the past two months). The bad news is I need an upper GI test to try to figure out what is going on with my stomach and the acid reflux. Hopefully it is not my LES valve or I may need surgery. Yesterday I ate 1 cup of rice and a protein shake with bananas and blueberries. Not enough protein (14g) to sustain lean muscle mass -- but at least I slept through the night (minus baby interruptions) without coughing up the contents of my stomach. I wish I could eat more of my protein bars but I only have one type that isn't covered in chocolate. And chocolate, like coffee and tomatoes and many other fruits, are big no-nos for GERD. *whine*

So, I'm trying to eat a careful, bland diet with lots of protein and extra calories for breastmilk production, and trying to find ways to get myself baby-breaks. I love the Little Man beyond description, but being the center of his universe these past 3 months is starting to take it's toll.