reversals
We had rather nice holidays. Well, we were asleep by 10 on New Year's Eve. Which was also what we did on Christmas Eve, for which my mom called us carrots. Well, "zanahorias", which literally means "carrots" but is slang for "losers". Apparently it's been a while since she had two kids under 3. Well, I should know: it's been over 35 years. I had my birthday, by the way, and Mr. E got me a surprise hour-long massage. IT WAS WONDERFUL.
Other delightful thing Mr. E has done recently: we have an hour and a half phone timer set to put the Junebug on the potty. Mr. E is teaching the Junebug that when it goes off, that is his booty call.
Anyway, New Year's Day we went over to the house of the parents of one of the Junebug's little daycare buddies. I wouldn't say we're friends exactly yet but we're definitely going in that direction, which makes me happy. Lots of little kids there and parents to keep an eye on them. The Junebug is just beginning to be old enough to play by himself at a party so that both parents can go in the next room and have some quick socializing and mimosa. It is great. The mom of the two and four year olds who were there made a point of gripping me by the arm and looking into my eyes and telling me that it gets better. Which I really appreciated. She said that by the time her little one was 6 months old they were ganging up on her (i.e., parent scolds baby, older kid says "You can't talk to her that way!") which I said was exactly what I want.
Oh, my mom. I realize that I am at full on bitch eating crackers mode with her, which is, I won't exactly say unfair, since I didn't get here by myself, but unhelpful. And the worst part is she knows it. So whenever she's suggesting or asking about anything that she doesn't really consider important, she's heartbreakingly deferential and hesitant.
So, this is my mom suggesting that we listen to some tunes:
"Do you think we could…I have on my iPod…we could listen…or no. No. Maybe we better not. Maybe you wouldn't like it. Never mind. Unless you really want to, that is."
And this is my mom telling me that I'm holding my baby wrong:
"Oh my god, you're not holding his head, he's going to fall. Look, let me carry him."
Now if it were up to me, I would reverse the confidence with which those two suggestions are made. And yet, I can see the logic!
Also speaking of getting things backwards, I discovered one of the reasons why my mom spends so much time eye rolling at our baby raising practices. Apparently 40 years ago when I was a baby, the medical advice she got was - though to be honest, by "medical advice" she probably means "my terrifyingly fatphobic dad told her" - that babies should be on a feeding schedule, because otherwise they'll want to eat when they don't really need to. So my brother and I were on strict feeding schedules from tiny babies…but on the other hand, we never had a bedtime. Like, never. Whereas around here, anyone still nursing (that would be Rocket, at this point) gets to nurse whenever and wherever they want to, but we respect the naps* and the bedtime.
Which explains why, when mom watched the Junebug for us one night last week, we got home around 11 and I asked "So what time did he go to bed?"
"Well, when we talked on the phone he was still eating, you know, and it takes a while, you have to go upstairs, put on the pyjama…it takes a while."
"Right, so what time did he go to bed?"
"God, I don't know, okay? I didn't have my phone with me!"
…he went to bed at 10:30, didn't he. *facepalm*
And in my experience, no, babies do not eat just because they are bored. Babies eat when they're hungry. Mom asks, how do you know he's hungry? He just ate! And my answer is, I don't know, until I offer him the boob and see if he eats! I assure you, my baby has no concept of the polite nibble! If he's hungry he eats! If he's crying not because he's hungry but because he's tired, or his bib is uncomfortable, or he wants his diaper changed, or the moon is in the seventh house, or he's become overwhelmed by having hands, he doesn't politely react with "Aw, mom's doing her best. I will nurse a little to make her feel better." HE SCREAMS HIS FOOL HEAD OFF. MOM, YOU'RE NOT DOING IT RIGHT. TRY SOMETHING ELSE. It's not ambiguous.
Ugh, my least favorite thing is when the Junebug is being two, and I can tell that if I were in a better mood I would find his endless energy and wanting to help adorable; but, because Rocket is screaming in my ear, or I'm tired, or something completely unrelated to him, it drives me nuts and I snap at him. Poor little guy, it's not his fault. I do my best, I swear, but sometimes my best is simply not good enough. ;____;
------
* Way back in the day, before I went back to work the first time, we thought we would do a nanny share for the Junebug. It didn't work out, and he goes to daycare, and we're happy with it now, but before we tried daycare we tried meeting a number of people to see if we could work a nanny share with them. It was like trying to do a polyamorous arranged marriage. It was very complicated, which is why it didn't work out.
But there was one woman whom I met and she said that she had previously been doing a nanny share with another family, but it wasn't working out because they wouldn't RESPECT THE NAP. When their kid was with them, they would just get right off the nap schedule, and then it messed everything up for the nanny for the rest of the week. She needed someone who would RESPECT THE NAP.
At the time, my reaction was "Ooookay, lady, I think we need someone who is a little less control freakishly precise. That's…not really our bag." Now - of course she was right. The nap is key. RESPECT THE NAP.
(Crossposted to http://metaphortunate.dreamwidth.org/60589.html with
comments.)
Other delightful thing Mr. E has done recently: we have an hour and a half phone timer set to put the Junebug on the potty. Mr. E is teaching the Junebug that when it goes off, that is his booty call.
Anyway, New Year's Day we went over to the house of the parents of one of the Junebug's little daycare buddies. I wouldn't say we're friends exactly yet but we're definitely going in that direction, which makes me happy. Lots of little kids there and parents to keep an eye on them. The Junebug is just beginning to be old enough to play by himself at a party so that both parents can go in the next room and have some quick socializing and mimosa. It is great. The mom of the two and four year olds who were there made a point of gripping me by the arm and looking into my eyes and telling me that it gets better. Which I really appreciated. She said that by the time her little one was 6 months old they were ganging up on her (i.e., parent scolds baby, older kid says "You can't talk to her that way!") which I said was exactly what I want.
Oh, my mom. I realize that I am at full on bitch eating crackers mode with her, which is, I won't exactly say unfair, since I didn't get here by myself, but unhelpful. And the worst part is she knows it. So whenever she's suggesting or asking about anything that she doesn't really consider important, she's heartbreakingly deferential and hesitant.
So, this is my mom suggesting that we listen to some tunes:
"Do you think we could…I have on my iPod…we could listen…or no. No. Maybe we better not. Maybe you wouldn't like it. Never mind. Unless you really want to, that is."
And this is my mom telling me that I'm holding my baby wrong:
"Oh my god, you're not holding his head, he's going to fall. Look, let me carry him."
Now if it were up to me, I would reverse the confidence with which those two suggestions are made. And yet, I can see the logic!
Also speaking of getting things backwards, I discovered one of the reasons why my mom spends so much time eye rolling at our baby raising practices. Apparently 40 years ago when I was a baby, the medical advice she got was - though to be honest, by "medical advice" she probably means "my terrifyingly fatphobic dad told her" - that babies should be on a feeding schedule, because otherwise they'll want to eat when they don't really need to. So my brother and I were on strict feeding schedules from tiny babies…but on the other hand, we never had a bedtime. Like, never. Whereas around here, anyone still nursing (that would be Rocket, at this point) gets to nurse whenever and wherever they want to, but we respect the naps* and the bedtime.
Which explains why, when mom watched the Junebug for us one night last week, we got home around 11 and I asked "So what time did he go to bed?"
"Well, when we talked on the phone he was still eating, you know, and it takes a while, you have to go upstairs, put on the pyjama…it takes a while."
"Right, so what time did he go to bed?"
"God, I don't know, okay? I didn't have my phone with me!"
…he went to bed at 10:30, didn't he. *facepalm*
And in my experience, no, babies do not eat just because they are bored. Babies eat when they're hungry. Mom asks, how do you know he's hungry? He just ate! And my answer is, I don't know, until I offer him the boob and see if he eats! I assure you, my baby has no concept of the polite nibble! If he's hungry he eats! If he's crying not because he's hungry but because he's tired, or his bib is uncomfortable, or he wants his diaper changed, or the moon is in the seventh house, or he's become overwhelmed by having hands, he doesn't politely react with "Aw, mom's doing her best. I will nurse a little to make her feel better." HE SCREAMS HIS FOOL HEAD OFF. MOM, YOU'RE NOT DOING IT RIGHT. TRY SOMETHING ELSE. It's not ambiguous.
Ugh, my least favorite thing is when the Junebug is being two, and I can tell that if I were in a better mood I would find his endless energy and wanting to help adorable; but, because Rocket is screaming in my ear, or I'm tired, or something completely unrelated to him, it drives me nuts and I snap at him. Poor little guy, it's not his fault. I do my best, I swear, but sometimes my best is simply not good enough. ;____;
------
* Way back in the day, before I went back to work the first time, we thought we would do a nanny share for the Junebug. It didn't work out, and he goes to daycare, and we're happy with it now, but before we tried daycare we tried meeting a number of people to see if we could work a nanny share with them. It was like trying to do a polyamorous arranged marriage. It was very complicated, which is why it didn't work out.
But there was one woman whom I met and she said that she had previously been doing a nanny share with another family, but it wasn't working out because they wouldn't RESPECT THE NAP. When their kid was with them, they would just get right off the nap schedule, and then it messed everything up for the nanny for the rest of the week. She needed someone who would RESPECT THE NAP.
At the time, my reaction was "Ooookay, lady, I think we need someone who is a little less control freakishly precise. That's…not really our bag." Now - of course she was right. The nap is key. RESPECT THE NAP.
(Crossposted to http://metaphortunate.dreamwidth.org/60589.html with
comments.)