You have an awesome husband

I do. I really do. But I was completely baffled when my coworker said this to me a while ago. Baffled because it came up as we were discussing lunch. She is one of the only two other women in my company and has been on board for about 4-6 months but we are in different groups so we rarely have chatted. We were killing time in the microwave line and discussing what we typically bring. I said that I am more of a pull-things-at-random gal whereas M is a make-a-sandwich kind of guy. She replied saying “wow, your husband is awesome.” I hope my automatic side-eye didn’t come off as a dispute and I followed up that I agree, he is quite awesome. Since we aren’t friendly friends I only chided her a little about that being the criteria for awesome.

He is wonderful. He is the kind of person who will chew on a problem you give him and really give it his best to help you find a resolution. He will extend himself out of his comfort zone to try something new with you or because it makes you happy (Andrew is the primary beneficiary of this and really pushes this trait to amazing limits). He is helpful and kind. He is smart. His sense of humor meshes with mine such that if something discreetly funny happens in a crowd I can’t look at him because I know I’ll bust up- and I don’t need to look at him because I know he thinks it is funny too.

With all of that going on, I didn’t even think to put “makes his own lunch” on the list. I guess I should have because I think what it means is that he respects my time and wouldn’t expect a lunch to be made for him. It also potentially shows that he appreciates me and is grateful if I do make him a lunch. It indicates that he is considerate and likely sometimes makes one for me. It might suggest that he is either a) frugal or b) health conscious (these things have varying degrees of truth ;) ).

I’m 100% sure that my colleague was not trying to put her own husband down, I don’t think she thinks a woman should prepare lunches and I’m fairly certain she’d have her own list of attributes for her own husband. If we do become closer friends, I’m sure we’ll wind up laughing about this. But I was really caught off guard and had an involuntary feminist sneeze at the idea that feeding oneself should be lauded in a married man. I also got a bit sad at how long it has taken to get to this place and it is still far to go.
Many things trouble me in the raising-a-son category but his male role model is not one of them.









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Eating for Two Again

(Provocative title FTW!)

I knew this issue would be coming. Even around other people’s
children I have always struggled with it. I eat their leftovers.

The problem is twofold. Children’s food is fun, tasty and
usually pretty non-perishable (like, it still is tasty after a child has given
up on it). The other issue is that children are extremely wasteful. Or adults
can’t target the right serving size for the ever changing and fickle appetites
of toddlers.

I could usually hold myself together with other people’s
children. I would think, hey, if they are going to let delicious chicken strips
go to waste, more power to them. But when I babysat for them, heck yeah I’d
snag their discarded French fries (side note: kids won’t even finish French fries…they
are so strange). With my own child I see myself having less restraint. Usually
what we feed him isn’t interesting, since he eats what we eat. But I will find
myself just eating the last bits of his salmon or whatever if he is done rather
than scrapping it. Things have gotten more exciting lately too since he eats
goldfish crackers and nilla wafers and the like. I usually have a strict no fun
snack food policy because I have little self-control. But we bought some for
his birthday party and oh man, I am ridiculous.

I need to get myself in check before we get to kid’s meals days.
Because kids meals are awesome. Or maybe I just order myself a side salad and
wait for Andrew to get bored of his adorable delectable meal.

Here he is at the kiddie table at starchy’s baby BBQ. I
guess his strategy is just to keep his food away from me.

We're in back

I love that this summer has been one that makes us a "we're in back" family.

When I was a kid I remember my mom or aunts yelling that through the house or over their fences to visitors. Why would we be inside?

I don't know how to become neighborly as a relatively reclusive adult. But I theoretically want a community for my family. The summer is the time to do it for sure though.

And Andrew makes it easier. I managed to invite one neighborhood family to his birthday party. They were great and their kids adorable. But I haven't talked to them since.

Now to build on it and get friendly enough that once the sun goes away we seek their faces out in the cold and dark.

A few more weeks of pulling out the cool sprinkler maze, a few more weeks of spending our evenings on long (sunlit) walks and a few more weeks of the non-committal "we're in back" invitations could just be the thing to solidify.




Watching dad and grandpa build the sprinkler.





Popsicles with cousins


Pizza in the pool. Is there anything better?



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Signing off

Signing off

Well, hopefully not. But I am emailing our HR person today to say I’m done using the little office I’ve been pumping in and since that has been where most of my blogging has come from….
I can’t believe I’ve been at the pump so long.

- I expected to HATE it way more than I did. It turned into something I just did and wasn’t that much of a big deal.
- The more annoying part of it all was the time it took up and the need to be strict about that time.
- It wasn’t really that much time. This surprised me. I could get in and out in 10-15 minutes. I was more bothered by how it was perceived by my colleagues than by the actual time taken.
- I thought I’d have time while pumping (since it was supposed to be hands free) to work a bit but that notion went out the window fast. At best I could put a few words into blogger. I did become an expert at eating lunch whilst pumping.
- I don’t really have any work friends to go to lunch with but I still have hated how I felt like I couldn’t go out to lunch or coffee (or to visit Andrew).
- I am going to miss having a little room to store my junk.

Pros of Being Done Breast Feeding
- Sweet freedom from the damn pump (and all of those annoying parts)
- I can medicate- I am now free to take all of the OTC meds my heart (or sinuses, or throat, or head) desires. **This one is the best!**
- Michael and I can split bedtime/wake time a bit more.
- I have my lunch breaks back and have started to go for walks or get exercise in during the day.
- Andrew is growing up and onto a new life chapter.

Cons
- I don’t think I can ever go back to 26 WW points+
- It was so, so, so very convenient and now there is cost and planning.
- I used to not worry about sneezing on him since we shared immune systems.
- He isn’t too keen on milk yet.
- Baby boy is still figuring out how to regulate how much he eats at night and has been waking up very early and likely because he is hungry.
- Miss my snuggly baby time Not really. I was expecting this to be the biggest con but he is actually more engaged and cuddly at bedtime now than he was when I was nursing. Now he lays on me and we read a book. It has been a really smooth transition.

Overall I am ecstatic how well our BF’ing journey went. Bumps and bruises and a lot of work along the way but it was actually pretty great. I was surprised by how much of a non-issue it was for me. I was able to make nursing in public work for me and the closest I came to being shy was hating Michael seeing me pump at first (got over that though). After the first few months there wasn’t a lot of pain or leaking and, except for a few minor indiscretions, teeth weren’t much of a problem. I am very glad to have my sovereignty back but I expected to feel like I had made a great sacrifice and I don’t really (OK, in hindsight, I felt very much like a martyr a few times like when I was really sick and told to netti-pot or when I couldn’t get LASIK).

So goodbye little room. I won’t really miss you but I’m grateful to have had you.





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Striken

So often these days I am paralyzed by gratitude and, honestly, terror because I think of how I am the luckiest human on earth (or at least in the top percentile).

It is amazing, and honestly terrifying.

I wish this feeling on everyone. And wish I could lift those who feel on the other end of that spectrum.


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