Birthdays are different now

I'm now 41 years old. Funny, I don't feel 41. A friend of mine who, AHEM, turned 41 waaaaaay before I did (47 days before, but who's counting), said, "Welcome to the second half." Indeed. Only, since we're not really ready for the second half, we've declared this our "Intermission Year."

In contrast to the festive blowout we had last year, this year I spent most of my birthday hanging out with a friend, taking care of a cranky, teething baby, and doing a few chores. In the evening, a wonderful friend-in-the-computer-turned-friend-IRL watched Gabby while Atomic took me out for dinner and a movie. I ordered the grownup equivalent of the Birthday Belly-Bustin' Banana Split (i.e., a sushi roll so complex I couldn't name half the fish, so ornate that it included little spirals of gold amid dollops of caviar, and so long it took up half the table). Then we saw the latest Batman movie on Imax.

That would have been a fairly ordinary Saturday night not so long ago, but tonight it felt like heaven. And I confess, I missed my Peanut and was also simultaneously glad to have someone else put her to bed tonight.

It was a perfect birthday.

Nipper

Ouch! The problem with kids getting teeth is that they use them. Not to do anything useful, like eating, mind you. No need for that when mommy purees everything nice and smooth. No, the teeth are being put to a far better and more amusing purpose -- biting mommy. While nursing. Hard enough to draw blood.

I'm really distressed over this turn of events. When Gabby was born, I was anxious about breastfeeding. I'd known so many people who had a hard time with it, and I wanted so badly to be able to do it, even for a few months. I was delighted when Gabby latched on like a champ right away, and breastfeeding has been easy peasy for us ever since. Until now.

Every time she bites, I pull her off and say, "no!" and stop the nursing session. It's hard on both of us, though, and tonight at bedtime we were both in tears. Even worse, the first time she bit me hard, I cursed, yanked her off me, and tapped her face with my hand. It scared me, because without thinking I had almost slapped her. I don't want to hit my child, especially not in anger. It worried me that it was almost a reflex to do so.

I don't want to wean her yet -- I'm not ready for it, and I don't think she is, either. I'm hoping this is just a phase. One that we're going to have to get past (please god) before she cuts any more teeth.

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!

Total shitstorm at work last week. Poor blog -- always the last to know.

I had about 48 hours to draft a brief in response to an "emergency" ex parte motion. Emergency my ass. Basically, someone's overdeveloped sense of entitlement meant that I had to miss my baby's bedtime AND miss my day off.

Well, that poor fool learned in a big hurry that you don't mess with Mama Bear. Don't get me wrong -- I love to win for its own sake -- but if you get between me and my cub I will do everything I can to make you bleed.

Gabby's had a busy week as well, babbling up a storm (for some reason she says "da-da-da-da-da" when she's happy and "maaaaammmmmaaaaaaa" when she's really sad), figuring out the whole crawling thing (she's progressed to the combat crawl), and mastering the pincer grip (ouch!).

When Gabby's busy, that's great. When I'm busy, not so much.

On The Move

Gabby's been a busy little beaver this week. On Monday, I came home from work and Meghann, our fabulous babysitter, said excitedly, "Look at what she can do!" She put her on the floor and put a toy in front of her. Gabby picked herself up into a push up, but then, instead of doing her usual worm action, she managed to get a knee under herself and propel forward. Atomic then told me she'd made it across the floor of his studio.

It's not like I missed her first steps or anything, but it made me a little sad.

By Tuesday night, Gabby decided that she didn't like sleeping on her back anymore. We still put her down on her back, but now she sighs, grunts, and flips over, and sometimes folds her arms in front of her and rests her head on them.

This morning she figured out how to use the adorable "Giddy-up" jumperoo we got her. She beamed and squealed as she bounced and bounced and the jumpy made galloping noises.

Oh, and she cut a second tooth.

This is going really fast. The dizzying speed of it really makes me appreciate bedtime, when all I can do is hold her and nurse her and cuddle her. I can't multitask when I'm putting her to bed. It's all about the two of us being in that moment, just staring at each other and hanging out together. And when she finally falls asleep and slumps into me, her total trust in me brings out the fiercest and tenderest feelings I have ever experienced.

She's my little girl. She's my big girl. She's a part of me, and separate from me. It's all quite confusing, actually, and rather wonderful.

A Few Things I've Learned As A Working Mom

It's only been a couple of weeks, but I think I'm getting the hang of this. Somewhat. I have learned a few tips and tricks along the way, which I'd like to share with all of you:

1. Part-time schedules are for suckers. They mean that you get less money and less time to do the same amount of work.


2. I am a sucker. Despite point number 1, I willingly slog through the mountains of work while living for those blessed Wednesdays with my Peanut.


3. It is possible to cram twelve pounds of crap into a five pound bag if you're really determined and don't mind getting a bit messy.


4. Planning ahead really works. Who knew?


5. Sometimes it's ok to raid the rainy day fund when it's only partially cloudy.


6. If it doesn't result in a trip to the ER, an overdrawn checking account, an insurance claim, or an involuntary change in employment status, you're doing it right.


7. An effective way to exceed expectations is to lower the expectations.


8. Bonus points are rarely, if ever, awarded for suffering in silence or taking one for the team.


9. Being Terribly Busy does not make me Terribly Important, or Terribly Smart. Often it just makes me Terrible.


10. Smile when you say no, and try to say it every day.


11. Guilt is for sissies.

More lessons to follow, I'm sure.

P.S.

Random thoughts on returning to work:

Having Wednesdays off rocks. Yesterday was utter bliss.

Having Wednesdays off also sucks ass. Especially when you don't get any less work in exchange for your reduced hours and pay.

Have I made the right decision? Can I really do this?

I vacillate between being really happy I'm back and feeling stressed and miserable.

And damn it, I'm still not wearing a watch.

A Momentous Day

I went back to work on Monday.


Somehow, the sky did not fall.



The day started off pretty grim but got steadily better:

6 a.m. Wake up to Gabby's beautiful one-toothed grin. Pick her up and cry a little.

6-8 Rush around getting everything ready for my first day back. Feel like a complete scatterbrain.

8 a.m. Walk to work in the gross cold fog.

9 -10 Get my office back in shape. Try to figure out why my phone isn't working.

10:30 Pump.

11 a.m. Wish my phone still wasn't working.

12 p.m. Atomic and Gabby come for a visit! Yay! Show off the wee one to all my friends.

2 p.m. Pump.

2:15 Talk to boss. Decide to work part-time (4 days/week) for six months.

2:17 Panic over finances.

2:30 Start wading through work. Remember that I am actually good at this.

4 p.m. Pump.

5 p.m. Atomic and Gabby come back to my office and we troop over to City Hall together to watch people get married. See couple after couple emerge from City Hall with enormous grins, greeted with cheers, a marching band, and random people serving cake. Tell Gabby what an historic day it is. Cry a little, in a whole different way.