I'm the Grinch

or

Why Jett Won't Be Sitting on Santa's Lap

Because I am in Super Mom Mode. Because kids hate it. Because malls take advantage. Because it's not about my entertainment. But mostly because he's just too young to ask.

Strategic Thinking

We're working on a lot of things over here at the Johnson household. Lots of things. Lots of Jett related things. Lots of Jett related things related to sleep. Like how to sleep more. And where to sleep. And how to fall asleep. When to fall asleep. How to stay asleep. You get the idea.

So we've been working on all of these strategies that are unspoken, that change by the minute, that work against each other, that we can't even remember the next day. No wonder none of us are sleeping.

But that's changed. Because at dinner on Sunday, Charlie and I planned a sleep strategy. We wrote it down and stuck it on the fridge. And - I know this is hard to believe, but it's true - Jett read it.

Seriously. Sunday night he did all his sleeping in his cosleeper, right where he is supposed to. Monday night, ditto. Tuesday night, ditto. (So far). I'm telling you, the kid can read.

Just to be clear, it's not that Jett is sleeping through the night (he isn't). It's that for the last two days he's falling asleep the way we want him to, when we want him to, and where we want him to.

Is tonight the night we sleep for longer than 2 hours at a stretch? I doubt it. But we're getting there.

Special note to Charlie: When Jett wakes up for the third time in the night do not suggest that I take us back to square one and bring him in to bed with us so I can get to sleep. Three o'clock in the morning is not a fair time to tempt me with uninterupted sleep. We're sticking to the strategy.

Birthday Dinner

The baby book says that it takes a few tries before the baby learns how to eat from a spoon. The book says the baby will push the cereal out of his mouth with his tongue. It says he might wrinkle up his nose and not like it. Book schmook.

Today Jett turned six months old so we prepared a special dinner for him - his first taste of rice cereal. His first taste of any solid - ok, mushy - food. To Charlie and me it was a big milestone. I had to get his special silver baby spoon down from the closet shelf. When I put it away up there a few months ago I couldn't even imagine ever needing it. But here we are. Jett is six months old.

Charlie pretended to eat the cereal first and Jett was completely entranced. We sat down on the floor, Jett in Charlie's lap. I held the spoon up to Jett's face so he could see it, and that's all he needed. He leaned forward, open up his little mouth, stuck out his little pink tongue and lapped up that rice cereal like he had been eating it all his life. Way to go, Jett!

Six Months

Today Jett is six months old. He can almost sit unassisted. He laughs at our jokes. He reaches for me, which is completely endearing. He watches me when I leave the room, and turns his head to look for me when I walk away. He still sleeps in until 9am on the weekends, and he is the most agreeable baby Charlie and I have ever met. He still makes it look like we know what we're doing, even when we're doing it wrong. And wow, do we do a lot of things wrong.

Thankfully, we've done a few things right. At least they're right for us. Personally I'm patting myself on the back for getting through six months of breastfeeding. It's not easy and it takes time and it requires about 4 hands and it means pumping if you're going to leave the house for 8 or 10 hours at a time, and it means hauling that big bulky pump back and forth to work, on and off the bus, but we did it, and we're mighty proud of it thank you very much. And yes, I'm still patting myself on the back.

I've spent the last two months counting ounces of milk in my head every day, trying to predict how much I have in the freezer versus how much Jett is going to drink tomorrow versus how much I can pump this afternoon, coupled with when am I going to get home and how long is the ice pack going to stay cold and how am I going to carry this all home plus the laptop and all my work, and thankgod I get on the bus at the first stop because at least I'm guaranteed a seat, and please please don't let Jett refuse the bottle even though we put infant decongestant drops in the bottle and they tasted awful and now he won't even let us put the bottle in his line of vision, but he has to take it because tomorrow is Monday and I have to go back to work just to pump another bottle for him that he might not take, and now it's 5:15 on Monday and I didn't pump as much as I wanted to, but I'm just going home to nurse him anyway, but maybe he's drinking a bottle right now, which means he won't want to nurse for another two hours so maybe I should stay at work just to pump, but why stay at work to pump if I could be home nursing him, except what if he's not hungry when I get home, then I should have stayed to pump, and how many ounces are still in the freezer?

It's not that supplementing with formula is out of the question, it's just that I set a goal and was determined to reach it. Just like that first marathon I ran and that first house I built. Now I'm a runner, a home builder, and a breastfeeder. Can I have a medal?

Not just yet. They say it takes a village to raise a child? Well it takes a village to breastfeed one too. I've thought a lot about it, and if you want to work outside the house and exclusively breastfeed your child for six months (which is the American Academy of Pediatrics recommended amount of time) you need the following:

1. The desire to breastfeed (obviously).
2. An agreeable baby.
3. Time with your baby to figure it out.
4. A friend who has done it before who can help you figure it out.
5. Someone to hold the blanket the first 20 times you try to feed your baby in public, and the ability to stop being embarrassed about nursing your baby in public (or you will never be able to leave the house).
6. The ability to get over needing a blanket to nurse your baby in public.
7. Someone to get you everything you need while you're sitting on the couch nursing the baby. Everything you need is a glass of water, the cordless phone, your cell phone, the tv remote, a magazine, the book you were reading, the camera, a pen and paper, a pillow, another pillow, a sweater, someone to help you put the sweater on because you're holding the baby (duh), socks, someone to put the socks on your feet (you're still holding the baby), a burp cloth, a blanket for the baby, someone to turn the lamp on, except it puts a glare on the tv, so someone to turn the lamp off, a sandwich, someone to make dinner while you nurse the baby, and a refill on your water.
8. $200 for an electric pump.
9. A pumping-friendly work environment.
10. A fridge to store the milk.
11. A freezer to keep the icepack cold.
12. The ability to carry the pump to and from work or a husband to carry the pump to the bus stop for you even when you make him late for work.
13. An encouraging friend, husband, or partner.
14. The ability to wake up and go back to sleep multiple times in the night while remaining functional during the day.
15. A running calculator in your mind of how many ounces you need to pump today, for your baby to drink tomorrow.

Is it no wonder why only 30% of mothers are still breastfeeding their babies after six months? (Now don't go quoting me - I've looked, but I can't find the magazine where I read that number. It might be wrong. But I think it's right).

So give Charlie a medal. Give Jett a medal. Give my doula a medal. Give my workplace a medal. And then give me a lapel pin.

Tonight we've got 12 ounces of milk in the fridge and seven in the freezer. That's about three more ounces than Jett is going to drink tomorrow and those extra three ounces won't last long. I see a bit of formula in our future.

But I'm not dwelling on it. We made it to six months. Six fabulous, happy, grateful months.



We love you, Jett. Happy Birthday.

This is...

why I can leave for work in the morning



and why I stay home on Fridays.



I thought I'd use Fridays to straighten up a bit.



But I do stuff like this instead.



Still, somehow it all gets done. (Mostly by the superwoman in the first photo). I'm pretty sure we wouldn't survive without her.

The Wheel, Sliced Bread, and The Exersaucer

It arrived last Wednesday with perfect timing. I put it together on Friday, the day Jett came down with his first cold. He wouldn't take the infant decongestant drops, he wouldn't let us put the saline drops up his nose, but he would play in the exersaucer, in the steamy bathroom, while we sat next to him, wiping up the boogers as they dripped on out of each little nostril.

You really wanted to hear about that, didn't you?

It's all fun and games until Mama gets a hickey

It's not the clearest video because I'm a novice and Charlie took it with his camera, but it's still kind of funny.

Although this isn't a great picture of me, it illustrates the point...