Keep on keepin' on

Exhausted. The Barracuda's sleep schedule was all jacked up from the flu a couple of weeks ago. January was a rough month. I think things are getting a little bit better. She sort of slept through the night last night, although at times it was a fitful sleep.

She also has a diaper rash that just won't disappear. Things will be all good and then her little bottom will be pink again. I just feel bad for her. She already hates diaper changes, a sore bottom isn't helping the situation.

Other than that, life continues to go on. My apologies for the lame post.

The Big Wean

I had a lot of mixed feelings about weaning The Barracuda. I still do. For instance, the morning that I tried to shove a boob in her mouth and she bit me so hard I thought (just for the briefest of moments, and I would NEVER do this) that I might punch her. Six teeth left an interesting impression on my right nipple. Let's face it, after one year of breastfeeding, my nips weren't exactly the hottest on the planet. I guess the teeth marks really elevated them to deafcon 7. Flash forward to evening/bedtime nursing, and I would have the sweet girl who delicately nursed while clutching her lovey, only occasionally letting go to shove a pudgy hand in my mouth or up my left nostril.

I remember, towards the end, when I tried to nurse her one morning (the day after I had just skipped an early morning feed) she hungrily nursed only to be met with...NOTHING. Oh, did she pull back with a lock of shock and anger. She immediately started to cry. The kind of cry reserved for scary strangers and vaccinations. And while she stared at me with her beet red face, the tears streaming, she pointed at me. ACCUSINGLY. Oofta. That image will guilt me into something later in life.

Biting and finger pointing aside, I think the main reason I stopped was that I just couldn't do it anymore. I could not haul my ta-tas out one more time. On top of it, I started getting my period back in October. Do you know how freakin' taxing it is to nurse and menstruate? I assure you, it sucks. I was WIPED.

Ultimately I am happy that I did finally wean her. And a happy mom leads to a happy baby/toddler. And I'm damn proud of myself that I did make it to my goal of a year for breastfeeding.

Absolutely...

Nothing beats seeing my parents with my daughter. To see their hearts melt as they hold her and play with her. To see my gentle dad bounce The Barracuda up and down makes my heart swell. To see the pride my mom takes in feeding my daughter home cooked meals or how she gladly changes a poopy diaper makes me want to cry with happiness.

Regardless of what your relationship is with your parents, I think you sometimes forget or have an altered memory of your relationship when you were a young child. My relationship is wonderful with my parents as an adult. And I know that it was wonderful as a child. But I feel like I can't even remember what that relationship was like as a young girl! I feel like I can only glean bits and pieces. How freakin' sad!

I didn't really know my grandparents. It wasn't a huge deal, we lived far away from family so the I always felt awkward and shy. But I just always knew that I wanted my children to know their grandparents. So to see my parents with Baby Bear is one of the greatest gifts that I can receive.

Being a parent is the toughest role/job/choice that is out there. You have to balance love and kindness with discipline. Sometimes you have to be the bad guy. It is loving unconditionally regardless of if that love is returned. But to be a grandparent, I imagine it's all of the perks and wonders of being a parent, with none of the bad stuff. And more sleep.

Update:

I ditched the mom jeans and chopped about 5 or so inches off my hair. I am a new woman. I went down a size in jeans (holla!) and I'm super pumped. I also started the Jillian Michael's 30 day shred with The Bear and I'm totally loving it. She is a slave driver and it's exactly what I need. And you can't beat the twenty minutes it takes to complete in your own living room. Hopefully I can get rid of some more of the baby weight a FULL YEAR after the baby was freakin' born. She's worth every pound of the fifty that I put on.

We're still in the throes of our move and I feel like it will never be done. Toss in the holiday season and life is really getting busy. But it's wonderful and I wouldn't change it for a thing.

The Barracuda has been sleeping through the night this past week (like 12 hours!) and it has made such a huge difference. I miss our late night snuggling sessions, but I don't miss how exhausted I was. Let's face it, I'm tired enough as it is. She is cruising around the furniture still and on Thanksgiving Day, she pulled herself up on The Bear, let go, and clapped her hands while maintaining her balance. I was so surprised and proud that I cried. This first year has just flown by and I'm so happy-but a little sad-that it's coming to a close. I shake my head and get goose bumps every single time I look at my sweet (and quite sassy) little girl. Watching her discover life has refreshed my own. Every. Single. Day.

Mom Jeans and Short Hair

I'm feeling so frumpy! I'm in desperate need of an ambush makeover. But I am refusing to buy any new clothes until some of the baby weight comes off. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that after the barracuda is weaned that I might magically drop 5-10 lbs that my body has been hanging on to.

As for the hair situation. I'm just sick of pulling it back in to a messy bun. I just look (and feel) unpolished. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with my hair, but it'll be something drastic.

The Barracuda is cruising around everything! And she's totally in to making funny faces and sounds. She makes fish faces and when she wears overalls she bears a crazy resemblance to Curious George. I am so scared that the next time I hug her she will break.

The Barracuda just cut another tooth on Sunday, bringing the grand total to 3! Most kiddos her age have a mouth full of pearly whites, but my little peanut is taking after her father and is lagging behind in pushing out those pointy, serrated shark teeth. Fine by me--we're still breastfeeding! I cannot believe I've made it over 9 months breastfeeding my little girl. I'm so happy that I persevered and fought through the sleepless nights (which still occur, by the way) and the tongue tied issue and didn't listen to all of the haters. I feel like I've accomplished a major goal.

In other news, work has become increasingly busy. We are in the middle of some major changes and everyone is at deafcon 7 when it comes to stress. Working part time I feel that I have been exempt from a lot of these feelings. On the other hand, I feel very out of place and out of the loop working part time. I've been struggling with these feelings for awhile and I've been attempting to write about them and post them here but life is just getting away from me. Combine the busyness with the fact that my brain has turned to complete mush...well it's been 5 times as hard for me to write about my feelings of working vs. staying at home. And I have a lot of feelings about this subject matter. Good and bad.

Busy Bee

Things have been quite hectic. I feel like I've lost my mind. Working while trying to settle in to our new house while parenting a 9 month old has proved to be too much for my brain. It's complete mush.

It's quite lovely out here (we have apple trees. WTF!) but it is an adjustment. I've pretty much tripled my drive time to work. Our yard is significantly bigger, so there is more to clean up out there. We have well water and it is AWFUL.

On the plus side. We have carpeting in our living room, a fireplace, a massive kitchen and SO MUCH FREAKIN' SPACE! This is a beautiful home and we're slowly making it our own.

On another note, I've become so overtired and stupid that I can't even figure out how to fill out The Barracuda's baby book. I've screwed it up. I either need to buy white out or a new book and just transfer everything. I have a Master's Degree, people, and I can't even fill out an effin' baby book? The Bear couldn't stop laughing at me.

Time for bed.