I Think It's Safe to Say...

...that I have a baby that falls asleep on her own, consistently between 6 and 7. I think. Six nights in a row we seem to have established a routine that Michelle is quite happy with. Eat, bath, story, a little boob, and she goes in her crib...awake...and falls asleep without a fuss for at least 4 hours initially. I am happy about this progress. Very happy.


It is no surprise that Michelle has been bearing weight on her legs in an assisted stand before she was 3 months old. The kid has always loved extending her legs. But until this week, her balance and arm and core strength were never quite there to hold herself up without some assistance keeping her hips and core in line. This week she has also figured out how to pull herself up into a plank position and creep...backwards. The toy is in front of her. She WANTS the toy. MUST HAVE that toy. So with all her might, she puts so much energy into thrusting herself up into that plank position that you can imagine the disappointment when she realizes she is actually farther away from the toy. You see, I think these two milestones are linked. She loves extending her legs. Always has. I mean, you should see the quads on this kid! However, no matter hard you try, crawling forward involves FLEXING the legs and hips. But I gotta say. Not bad. Not bad for a little baby.

Scoreboard: Sleep 1, Dolby 5.1 surround system 0

I saw on the news yesterday that yesterday, January 25th is considered the most depressing day of the year. Interesting. The sun DID come out yesterday and we DID go for a nice walk around the Chambers Bay golf course. A 4 mile loop with a killer hill. With a little vitamin D, the day turned out to quite lovely.

Just to update on the "Sleep Situation", I put Michelle down in her crib last night at 7:00. She cried for 1 minute and then passed out. How did we get there you may ask? I resorted to the last thing on earth I ever said I would EVER do. I did something I frowned upon that I thought only heartless, selfish parents with no empathy for their baby did. That's right. I can't believe I'm saying it. I let her CRY IT OUT. Saturday night we got off the routine by going to a dinner party which meant bedtime was pushed to almost 8:45 which meant someone was overtired which meant SOMEONE was not gonna give up the ghost and go to sleep. Pick-up put-down was just pissing her off even more so I nursed her and tried again. Again with the screaming. So I gave up. Remember? I was not in the best spirits on Saturday. So I turned the lights out, shut the door, walked upstairs and listened to her wailing on the monitor. I looked at Barry "I don't know what else to do! I've tried everything!". We decided to give it 20 minutes and if she was still screaming, we'd go get her. One minute. Two minutes. Three minutes. Four minutes. Five minutes. Six minutes. Seven minutes. Eight minutes. Nine minutes. Ten minutes. Eleven min-...what's that? What's that I hear? That's right. I don't HEAR anything. Ten minutes and she was passed out. Asleep.

Now Sunday rolls around and I must preface this by saying I have been trying to get Barry on board with winding her down with QUIET activities before bed for quite sometime. Like, for the past 6 months or something. The problem is Barry's expensive surround-sound entertainment system. I say Barry's because while it lives in OUR house, I know nothing about it except how to operate the universal remote. It is HIS baby, and Barry likes his Boom-boom, bang-bang in Dolby 5.0 as much as possible. But this night, Barry happens to pick up my Parents magazine which HAPPENS to have an article about getting your baby to sleep better. He starts reading aloud to me and says "You know, we should really establish a QUIET bedtime routine for her." Really? I mean, Wow! Because I never thought of that. For the past 6 months, I thought turning up the subwoofer was the surefire way to get-your-baby-to-sleep-through-the-night! Even though Barry's preferred method of reading how-to-baby-books is for ME to read them and TELL him what I read, I think part of him thought I was just making this shit up. Granted, there are MANY different sleep methods out there, but I'm pretty sure that none of them include facing your baby towards a large flat screen high-def television surrounded by the ultra-resolution 5 point speaker system with the bass cranked up just before bed. With the combination of Barry's own sleep deprivation and actually READING the words himself I think it finally sank in. So Sunday came, we did a quiet bedtime routine, put her to bed, turned out the lights, and she cried for 14 minutes and passed out. And last night, for ONE minute. I haven't figured out how to tackle the night wakings yet and I still end up bringing her to bed at some point during the night, but to have her fall asleep and stay asleep so that Barry and I can enjoy an evening alone together is HUGE. I think much of the night waking won't be solved until she has her own room because I swear she can SMELL my boobs the moment I walk in the door. But for now, I'll take it. Whatever sleep I can get, I'll take it.Watching a chick flick while Io enjoys much needed mommy cuddles after Michelle went to bed last night. He didn't move. Totally blissed out.

Barry gone, the blues are back in town.

I have to say, it is getting old. Barry's work travel, that is. Of course, every-other-week pales in comparison to the families that have mom or dad overseas in the Middle East for months at a time, but I still hate it. Yes, I am grateful Barry has a job...a good paying job. Yes, I am grateful that means I can stay home and raise our baby. Yes, I should be happy. Can one be grateful and still be unhappy about the situation, or is that a contradiction? So while I am grateful for all the above mentioned facts, I am still f-ing unhappy about Barry's travel schedule. Plus, it doesn't help that we are hundreds of miles away from family (except for you, Auntie Tammy, but you also happen to be closer in proximity to my family this week while you travel to Colorado/ AZ). We are making the most of the week with a play-date tomorrow and dinner with a friend on Wednesday, but that still leaves us alone at night and me with next to zero baby-relief. And don't get me wrong! If there is anything that picks me up, it is that chubby gummy grin that erupts over Michelle's face when she looks at me, but it is safe to say that my Wellbutrin has exhausted it's ability to keep my brain chemicals in balance the last couple of days.

Saturday was bad. After failing to get Michelle down for an afternoon nap (which was even MORE important because of the impending 5:00 dinner/ birthday party for a friend for which a well-rested baby would be of the utmost importance for EVERYONE'S sanity), I shoved her into Barry's arms with a flat "YOU take her. If she won't nap, I NEEEED one" and crashed into bed with my covers over my face feeling sorry for myself. There I lie with my head spinning thinking of Barry being gone the next week and how I won't be able to have ANY time to myself where I can be completely confident that Michelle is in good hands. The exersaucer, while a reasonable intermittent baby sitter and play-mate while blogging and facebooking, cannot be counted on to change diapers, feed my baby, or put her down for a nap. Nor can I leave her in the exersaucer and take off for 90 minutes to go for a swim.
No.
Cannot do that.
Must not do that.
So lying there in bed for a well-intentioned nap, the nap just turned into an opportunity for my head to spin and for me to get sad. At 4:00, I peeled myself out of bed, walked upstairs, mashed up some avocado and spinach/potato combo for Michelle and commanded to Barry "Here. YOU can feed her dinner" because of course, he would not have thought of it and my baby would have starved if I hadn't literally TOLD him what to do and placed the tiny spoon and bowl of mush into his hands. Okay, that is is false. Completely FALSE thinking, but that is what depression does. The truth? Barry was HAPPY to watch her, HAPPY to feed her, and HAPPY to give me some reprieve. And yet my mind is telling me he might as well be gone because I have to do everything with her anyway. I know. It's terrible. I'm a terrible wife to think that way because I do in fact have the most wonderful husband in the world who is just as pissed off about his traveling work schedule as I am. But Barry has incredible patience, staying power, and follow-through. He can plunk away through what MUST be done with a clear vision of how our future will be improved in the LONG run whereas I prefer immediate gratification. So while I have moments of depression-induced irrational thinking, I guess it is a good thing that I can see clearly that I could not have chosen a better man to father my children.

Let me follow this to mention that this is the WORST time of year in the Northwest. It is dark. Dark. Dark. Dreary, dreadful and did I mention dark? The only consolation is that the days are at least on the way to getting longer. but we have a long way to go before daylight savings hits.
But what is this I see?
It can't be.
Shit! The sky is blue! The sun is just rising at 7:45, but there are actually minimal clouds in the sky. Maybe today will be a good day after all with the opportunity for a nice long walk. Outside. And yes, I did take my bupropion this morning.

6 Months old

It has been an exciting week. On Sunday, we spent the afternoon in Seattle. First, a nice lunch at Elliots, followed by a little birthday party for my friend Stephanie's 1 year-old at the Children's Museum. Amazingly, Michelle did not get sick after rolling around on slobber covered play mats and grabbing everything possible to put directly into her mouth. This is the first decent photo I think we have of the three of us together, even though Michelle looks a little stunned. Michelle finally fit into the bling-bling princess outfit Great Grandma Bea gave her so she was Stylin'!

But 6 months old? How did my baby get to be 6 months old? I could be sad about it going by so fast, but the truth is each day is more exciting than the last. At every stage it seems like I have that moment where I want to cherish and keep her that way forever. But as soon as she does something new, I am simply overjoyed with the little person she is becoming. She totally digs eating which is a relief. As much as Barry and I enjoy good food, I am pleased that her initial reaction to new foods is essentially positive and embracing. She has this look whenever we try something new like "Oh it is a cornucopia of flavor! Where have you been all my life, O lovely sweet potato, O wonderful spinach, O beautiful prunes?"

Reflecting on the last 6 months, I never could have possibly imagined how my life would change with the introduction of this little being into my life. She has made me happier, my marriage stronger, and drawn meaning to the real priorities in my life. And surprisingly, I haven't completely eaten her up despite the lusciousness of those chubby little cheeks. I also couldn't have imagined that my size 6 pre-pregnancy jeans would be too big for me at this point. Which is why I must post the bathing suit photo. I will completely admit my vanity and profess that I do believe I am ONE HOT MOMMY and enjoy the size 4 "seven for all mankind" jeans I scored yesterday at TJ Maxx...while I can.

And another amazing thing. The piano. I have sat her down on my lap daily to plunk on the piano of which she showed very little interest. Until this past week. It was literally over night. She went from no interest in those black and white keys one day and the next day she was banging on them like a mad woman. Musical prodigy? You decide!

Michelle and I spent a couple of nights with Auntie Tammy while Barry was gone this past week. We took Michelle swimming on Thursday and she had a blast! We were in the water for 30 minutes without a fuss. I am looking into some mom 'n tot swim classes in February. Most require that babies be 6 months old for the classes. Fun fun fun!



Michelle has taken a HUGE interest in Io over the last week. Of course, you have seen her squeals of delight when we throw the ball for him, but now it is all about grabbing his soft fur and nuzzling into him. I think Io appreciates the short haircut last week with Little Miss Grabby Pants. He has been very tolerant.

The week without Daddy

First of all, Michelle is so damn cute in her high chair, I might eat her during one of her meals. Thank you Grandma and Grandpa Martin for the wonderful Christmas gift!

All that hard work, exhaustion, frustration from last week's attempt at sleep training I'm afraid may now have fallen by the way-side. You see, somehow I find it very hard to stay motivated to keep that baby in her crib when Barry is out of town. At least she seems to be going down around 7:00 at night. But last night, as she woke up at 11:30, against all my better sense and knowledge of the power of consistent parenting, I brought her to bed to feed her fully intending to put her back in her crib and of course, I fell asleep. I woke up several times in a dream-like stupor to the sound of gentle coos and automatically thrust out my boob for Michelle while dozing off again. So I could be frustrated with myself, but the truth is, I feel more rested today than I have in weeks! My whole intent of training her to sleep in her crib last week for longer stretches was not only ineffective, but left me so crabby and sleep deprived that I was snapping at the smallest things making Barry and Io both very concerned. But as I write this, she is napping quite nicely in her crib. So it's not that she hates the crib at least. I just think that given the choice she would rather sleep next to a warm body. Shit. Who can blame her? I mean, most of us married people prefer sleeping next to a warm body too. But all that set aside, I truly do want to have my bed back eventually and sooner rather than later. I am hoping (there we go with the "hoping" again) that when we move and she gets her own room where she isn't smelling me in the room, things will get easier. Hoping. Hoping. Hoping.

Victory? You Decide.

Scenario from last night. Michelle in bed asleep at 8:00 PM. We go to bed at 11:00 which means mommy and daddy had quality time together. Michelle wakes up at 2:45. I feed her in the chair. She goes back to her crib at 3:15. She falls asleep on her own without crying. Michelle wakes up at 7:00 this morning blowing raspberries and talking to herself. VICTORY! Now to see if this will last...

Our sweet potato enjoying her sweet potatoes.

Defeated?

In the right corner, standing at 28 inches, weighing in at fifteen pounds, defending champion of the sleepless night, Michelle Martin (crowd screams....Ahhhhhhh)! In the left corner, standing at 5 feet 5 inches, weighing in at 132 pounds, attempting a major upset, exhausted yet determined mommy, Kelly Martin (no cheers, booooo, hissss).

And the battle begins. Seven P.M. Time for bed. Michelle, showing signs of sleepiness, Kelly taking advantage of the situation, with a left hook and Michelle goes down in the crib! Kelly may have the upper hand...very little crankiness showing from Michelle...could be safe to leave the room...and Kelly quietly leaves the room...tiptoeing out...BUT NO! Michelle, not going out without a fight, screaming starts. And Kelly answers with the method that has worked for the past 4 nights, a method called pick-up-put-down. Clearly, Michelle is starting to wear Kelly down. The screaming not stopping even when picked up. Will Michelle win? Not giving up the method, Kelly keeps at it! And finally, 1 hour later, it appears Kelly has succeed! It looks like Michelle is down for the count! Looks like calm and perseverance has paid off. BUT NO! 8:45, screaming again, Michelle makes her move with wail. Kelly reverts to the pick-up-put-down. There is no consoling this time, Michelle's fight coming back, not backing down. 10:00, it appears Michelle is tiring, Kelly holding strong, and Michelle is down for the count!

Okay, you get the idea...fast forward waking up at midnight, nursing her and attempting to put her back to sleep for the next 2 hours. That's right, 2 hours of pick-up-put-down, wondering is it teething? Is it gas? Why can't I read THIS cry? It doesn't sound like the cry of "I just don't want to be in my crib", it sounds like the cry of "I am uncomfortable and YOU need to fix it momma! NOW!!!" She's had Tylenol, gripe water, pacifier, diaper change, booby, and I am at a loss.

...and the battle is on! Neither one of them willing to give it up. Michelle is not giving up the ghost and Kelly is determined to put this baby DOWN in her crib. But now, Io is pacing. That's right, the dog is getting worried. Barry gets up and leaves the room! Is he coming back? It appears Barry has retreated to the guest room. Will Kelly succeed with the disintegration of the support team? It looks like Kelly's frustration is reaching a boiling point. Michelle, with a right and a left, POW POW and are we there? Could it be? And it appears MICHELLE HAS WON! Kelly, worn down to the final thread, COLLAPSES! In bed. Michelle in arms. Michelle at the boob. Michelle quiet. Michelle sleeping. But what is this? Barry returns to bed! What we thought was a retreat was merely a bathroom break! And what will this mean for Kelly's dwindling stamina? Barry, reaching around, cuddles Kelly in the spoon position. Kelly in tears over the hard fought battle. Barry whispers in Kelly's ear "You did your best. I would not have lasted anywhere near as long as you did." Kelly responds "How could I have had it so wrong? Every night got better this week until tonight. I feel so defeated." Barry whispers back "You are doing a wonderful job mommy. I love you." And everyone sleeps. Together in bed. Goodnight.

Squeals of Delight

Solid Food, Stinky Poop!

We are definitely getting the solids down. Michelle's tongue thrust reflex is pretty much absent though clearly that doesn't make for a cleaner eating experience. we tried some apples yesterday and she went ape shit over them. Our pediatrician actually recommends rice and veggies mostly at first so that they don't develop a "sweet tooth" early on. So as I sliced some avocado for my egg sandwich this morning, I mashed a little avocado for her. What better power food? High in fiber, rich in omega-3 fatty acids...she liked it! I think the texture was a little odd but she kept diving into the spoon for more. I have a feeling we are not going to have a finicky eater on our hands. Now a word about poop. Over the last couple weeks since introducing rice cereal, I have watched her poop transform from a benign sweet smelling, swirls of yellow, yogurt-like to something comletely ungodly. I noticed a change right away in the smell, but what I thought was bad 2 weeks ago had nothing on what she produced yesterday! As you recall, she is only pooping once every 5 days (which is NORMAL for breastfed babies) and yesterday was the day. In the five days since previous poop, her little body went from making "poopies" to making "shit". Dark brown, nasty smelling, full on scary-ass shit! Apparently the fact that her diet is still 95% breast milk is no buffer for what rice cereal and apples can do to the bowels. How can something so cute and sweet produce THAT??? The days of cute poopies are over.

And a little update on the sleep situation. I am holding strong. Two nights now of 1-2 sleep increments but she has slept in her crib. I am exhausted, but also know that this exercise in setting limits is as good for me as a parent as it is for improving her sleep situation in the long run. She slept for 4 hours initially when she went down, but after the first waking, it was every 1-2 hours after that. Finally at 4:00, I think she was just totally exhausted and slept until 7:00, a wake-up time I prefer to yesterday's "I am wide awake at 5:30, let's get this party going" routine. Two nights down. I am not broken yet.

Things I learned in 2009

My sister Chandra did a posting like this on her blog and I thought it was a great Idea so I am stealing it. So here are some things I learned in 2009.

* I have a much higher pain threshold than I ever gave myself credit for.
* My breasts are REALLY resilient.
* It is true. There is NOTHING like the love you have for your child.
* Raising twins must have been the HARDEST thing my parents ever did. Whatever I think is hard about raising a baby, I remember my parents did it with twins.
* Without a doubt, I picked the BEST father to my child.
* Consistency is much harder than the books make it out to be.
* (Stealing this one from Jason) Raising a baby is NOT ANYTHING like raising a puppy.
* Babies are cuter than puppies. Wow. Did I say that?
* Nothing is more important than family.
* Tacoma is not where I want to raise my child.
* I love my job. Nursing and motherhood.
* Nothing clarifies your priorities in life like having a baby.

New Toys

At least, new to Michelle. I bought this at the second hand kids store about 2 months ago but it was quite clear when we tried it the first time that Michelle needed a little more core strength and leg length to have fun with it. Now that she is sitting on her own, I brought the exersaucer in from the garage and wouldn't you know it, it fits and she LOVES it!


An update on the sleep situation. It seems that part of the problem with getting Michelle to sleep in her crib at night is that we both find sleeping in the same bed mutually enjoyable. I mean, I would rather have my boobs back for myself, sprawl out and not worry about pillows or covers accidentally smothering my baby. But cuddling with my little girl is like a drug! Every night, I say 'This is the night. I am NOT bringing her to bed. Tonight is the night that she will sleep in her crib!" And every night, I cave in to her desires and bring her to bed for first rate snuggles. The thing is, she DOES sleep in her crib...during the day. GREAT naps. She is a bonified Daytime crib sleeper. Which only confirms my suspicions that I AM COMPLETELY to blame. I have created the nighttime boob monster and I am the one that has to fix it. I am also the one that needs to decide if it is something that needs to be fixed.

Welcome 2010...and a little about poop

Here we are in another year. 2009 was a remarkable year. I would imagine every parent holds dear the year they became a parent. We are hoping that 2010 will bring us back to Salt Lake where closer family and a more laid back lifestyle will bring more balance into our lives.

They warn you about 2 things regarding your baby's poop when you start solids: one, it will start smelling bad. Two, your baby may have even less frequent bowel movements. We noticed the the remarkable new odor almost immediately starting solids last week. But the pooping frequency got me worried. Even though ALL my baby books say "Constipation is not defined by frequency but by hard stool that is difficult to pass. Many breastfed babies especially may only have a bowel movement every few days." But of course, since the poop hiatus seemed to coincide with the introduction of rice cereal, I began to worry after day five. So Wednesday we gave Michelle 1 oz of prune juice in her bottle. And she liked it! The look on her face initially was priceless trying to make sense of this new flavor but then she grabbed that bottle all by herself and stuffed it in her mouth. No results that night so she got another oz in the morning. And BINGO! Blowout. Six days. Really Michelle? Six days? Must you make mommy worry like that? I am just grateful we didn't have to resort to the dreaded glycerine suppository. We backed off on the rice cereal this week but I think we will start it again, but slower, in smaller quantities. Easy does it for these little tummies!