committment

Here's another thing I swore I wouldn't do when I had a baby... I've been in my gym clothes since I left the house this morning, just so I wouldn't have to factor in a change of clothes later. I am that woman in yoga pants and tank top with the Baby Bjorn in Target. Or I was, a few hours ago. Now I'm that woman in the same yoga pants and tank top at home, not at the gym yet. But I'm about to leave for it, and I'm 95% certain that I wouldn't actually be going if I hadn't been in these damn clothes all day. After getting home from morning moving errands with Anil, and after Maya took only a 30 minute afternoon nap, I thought about skipping the gym since I have more moving errands to run and I'm now afraid Maya will be grumpy and overtired. So far she has a perfect disposition record at the gym's nursery and I don't want to jinx that right before we leave. But nope, I refuse to have worn these pants all day without actually doing something that requires lycra legwear. Because that would be worse--then I'd just be that woman who wore work out clothes all day because she couldn't bear to put on real clothes. I've been that person plenty of times, don't get me wrong. Just not today.

Rolling!

We were super excited last week when Maya rolled from her back to her tummy for the first time, but now we think it's created a roly poly monster. A one-sided one. She rolled from her tummy to her back a few weeks before, but that required us putting her on her tummy first. Then she'd push up on her hands, arch her back, tuck and shoulder and roll. The back-to-front roll came after lots of side rolling. Then she got her hips and legs over completely, but she still had an arm that would stay stuck underneath her body. Last Wednesday, Anil and I literally sat and watched her for like two minutes (felt like it anyway) while she struggled and succeeded in getting that pinned arm free and made it officially onto her tummy. We were cheering her on, and every time I reached forward to give Maya and encouraging pat, Anil grabbed me back, thinking I was going to help her.

Now, Internet, she's mastered the roll, and it's ALL SHE DOES. Over and over again. Which would be fine, if she didn't keep getting stuck on her tummy. And crying. It hasn't clicked that once she rolls to her tummy, she can push off and roll back onto her back. And I'm sure when it does, it'll be another kind of monster because she'll roll across the floor and we'll have to check for her under the couch (just kidding). But for now, we put her on her baby gym (the floor mat with fun hanging things that used to entertain her for like 30 sweet sweet minutes), we walk across the room, then we hear her cry, look back, and she's flailing on her tummy. By flailing I mean waving her arms and legs while arching up on her belly, almost like a really bad surfer paddling out. So we stroll back over, and we help her roll to her back again, and literally IMMEDIATELY she rolls to her tummy again. She's okay for a minute... until she isn't. Then we go back over and roll her again. And again. And again. And then we strap her into the bouncy seat.

This is how I found her the other morning after I unswaddled her. Usually I undo her swaddle when she wakes up, then she's happy to hang out in her crib for a few minutes, "talking" to herself and rolling on her side and back. I call it baby snooze button. But now that she can roll all way over...

See the way her arm is blurry from the flailing? We've been trying to transition her out of the swaddle too, so have been leaving one arm out for naps. But this morning, her nap ended in loud crying, and Anil found her on her tummy, holding her face off of the mattress with the one arm. That makes me want to phase out the swaddle even more, because if she can roll, I want her to have arms free so she can push up. But then again, what if she just ends up rolling and then crying anyway? At this point, so I read, it's okay for her to sleep her on tummy if she turns herself onto it, because her arms and neck are strong enough to keep her airway clear, but something tells me it'll be a while longer until she's happy in that position. It's fun to see her try to figure it out though.

Is it hot in here or…

No, it’s just me. And not in a good way.

I’m worried that pregnancy has permanently altered my internal temperature gauge. I was insanely warm throughout pregnancy. When I was around four months pregnant, my friend and I were walking on the Esplanade on a summer evening, and I was literally pouring with sweat when she was cool as a cucumber. I remember it because we went to dinner afterwards and I felt so gross that I think I was traumatized. I wore flip flops and t-shirts at work through December and January. I bought a maternity sweater that I loved but never wore, because I was always so hot. I bought maternity straight leg jeans because I assumed I’d spend the winter with them tucked into my Ugg boots, as I’d done the previous winter, but every time I tried, I overheated. I could only wear the Uggs with leggings. And capri leggings at that! I made Anil keep our bedroom fan going until the night I went into labor. He went to bed in flannel pajama pants while I wore shorts and t-shirts. I sweated through my long-sleeve thermal-style hoodie at a restaurant because I refused to be the pregnant woman in the purple ribbed tank top at the bar. In November.

In the days after I gave birth—and I heard this is common—I had crazy hot flashes when I breastfed Maya, and I was really hot at night. One night in the hospital, I looked over at Anil on the pull-out cot he slept on and realized that he shivering under the covers in his heavy fleece jacket—the one he wore to the hospital as Maya got me in labor on one of the coldest mornings of the winter (7 degrees!)—and knit hat. I was sweating in my hospital gown, and had asked the nurse for a fan.

It was so jarring to come home and, for the first time in almost a year, be chilly when I went to bed. Wearing long sleeves to sleep was a foreign concept, as was bundling up on the couch. Not that wardrobe was an issue in those days as I literally rotated through the same nursing tanks and zip-up hoodies as quickly as my mom could wash them for me (and this is where I note how gross I would have been had my mom not been fastidiously doing my laundry that month—thanks Mom!).

I still worry that my internal temperature is on the warm side; I'm more than nervous about jumping into the Virginia summer after a mild New England June. Maybe it’s still hormone related and will dissipate when I stop breastfeeding. That’s what I tell myself for all the weird quirks that are still going on with me. (e.g.: Oh, that pesky spare tire around my waist? It’ll melt away when I stop breastfeeding. The way my face has broken out like it hasn't since middle school? That'll go away when I stop breastfeeding. The way I can't stay up past 11 p.m.? Oh... well... that might be here to stay.) So here’s to hoping I’m not condoned to being a sweat monster for life. Or at least that I can avoid ever being late-stage pregnant during a Virginia summer.

the swaddle is my frenemy

Am I the most slack blogger ever? Am I in danger of becoming one of those bloggers whose pages languish on the web... the kind you come across and are intrigued by until you realize that the last post date was 2005? Let's hope not. If the baby would only nap for more than 45 minutes, I'd have time to both shower and write. Cause you know if I have to chose... We're also just super busy with the impending move. We've set the date: we drive from Boston to Virginia on June 30.

In the mean time, though, I'm having swaddle issues. And no, a swaddle has nothing to do with baby weight--"swaddle" is not a euphemism for my spare tire. It's when you wrap a baby tightly in a blanket so that they feel snug and secure; it helps them sleep and helps them get calm when they're very new to the world. Here's Maya all wrapped up at just a few weeks old.

She looks like a little elf, right?

First of all, I have something embarrassing to admit. I never actually learned to swaddle Maya freehand. After I had the C-section to give birth to Maya, I was obviously in no shape to loom over the hospital bassinet and wrap the baby up again and again, and the same situation applied after I got home for another week or so. By the time I was feeling better, it just felt good to have a job that Anil could do. I was the only one who could feed the baby, and feeding a newborn takes up like 19.5 hours of every 24 hours. So for a while, I didn't even want to learn how to swaddle, because I liked it being Anil's job--I lived for that hand off that gave me a guaranteed, if tiny, break.

But lately... I'm cursing not being a master swaddler. Then I just curse the swaddle. I'm ready to transition her out of it; I just hope Maya is ready too. I'd like her to be able to fall asleep on her own, without being in a baby straightjacket. Maybe if I could swaddle as well as Anil then I wouldn't be as eager to move on from it. But I also have this feeling that if she could move around, suck her fingers and hands, and roll over if she wants, then maybe she'll sleep longer during naps, instead of waking up and being pissed that all she can do is thump her feet. And since we're supposed to be helping her learn to fall asleep on her own right now, I think that should include her own way of soothing herself, instead of the swaddle being what soothes her. So that's our project after we move... to graduate from the swaddle. Ask me in a month if it worked, or if we caved and decided to swaddle Maya till she goes to college.

When we do lose the swaddle, though, I'll miss this. This is what helps me haul my tired butt out of bed in the morning.

mommy's impulse buy

I love how there is zero guilt when I impulse buy something for Maya, as opposed to for myself. I found this for her yesterday in a great modern/vintage homegoods store in Cambridge, Abodeon. I immediately had visions of her carrying it from room to room as a two year old. The textured fabric is perfect for her now. It's from a line called "Peculiar Pets," made by a woman in North Carolina. She takes vintage and leftover textiles and makes stuffed animals from the fabrics. Since the fabrics aren't mass produced, the animals are usually one of a kind. Cool, huh?

baby paparazzi

"No pictures, please." Yeah, right.

Have you heard that Boston is the new movie hub? There's seemingly always a new movie being shot around town. In the fall we had Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise sightings around Back Bay and Cambridge. You can tell something's happening when the big white trailers flank Beacon Street, Boston Common, or the North End. Or, when you're walking through Boston Common and see Civil War reenactors alongside New England Patriots cheerleaders and the Pats mascot. I heard that was a Ben Affleck project. There's even a web site that lists current filming locations, for when you want to go star sighting.

So you can understand why Maya is fatigued by the camera. There are always paparazzos mistaking her for a baby celebrity. I think it's the hair. She's been trying to be incognito when we're about town.

Case in point, here's Maya in Beacon Hill... trying to not get recognized.

Crossing the street... so far so good...

She started to relax when we got to Boston Common.

The next day on the Esplanade, Maya was relieved that she could hide under her carseat "bubble" (I love that thing) and sun hat.

But I got the one up on her this morning. I snapped this before she could get to hair and makeup.

I.O.U.

I've been meaning to write post after post for at least the past week, but Internet, I'm so tired... How tired am I? Well.... It's been so busy around here, from morning till night (with less reliable baby naps in between for recharging my brain). Anil is working tonight, and Maya is in bed, and I'm catching up on TV that I've saved on our DVR--the kind that Anil will scoff at if I watch it around him (Lady GaGa episode of "Glee," anyone?). And I thought about making popcorn. But I'm too tired to want to sit here putting piece after piece after piece in my mouth. Eating popcorn has become work. So IOU more posts as soon as the effort required to eat popcorn ceases to be exhausting.