I was wrong: full-time work B.L.O.W.S.

Because if I wasn't back to work full-time, I wouldn't have been stuck in the cluster-fumble that was traffic after work today.  If I wasn't working full-time, it wouldn't have taken me 1 hour and 35 minutes to travel 7.5 miles.  Quite literally, I could have walked home faster.

And if I wasn't back to work full-time and stuck in traffic on the way home, my dear husband wouldn't have had to rush out at the last minute to pick the kid up from daycare.  And if that didn't happen, there's no way Brian could have forgotten to check the kid out, left all the dirty diapers in Cayden's cubby and left the diaper bag hanging on Cayden's hook.  Heck, at least he remembered the kid and blue blankie.

And if I wasn't back to work full-time, my nervous-boweled boy wouldn't have resisted pooping in front of strangers again all day today, so that when I finally got home at seven-friggin-o'clock to spend one-half hour with the Chicken before bed, he wouldn't have released all his anxiety by SHITTING IN THE BATHTUB.

If I wasn't back to work full-time, I wouldn't have had to de-shat the tub.  Oh, wait, Brian had to do that, what when I curled my lip and dampened my eyes at first sight of the loaf in the water.

And if I wasn't back to work full-time I don't think I'd require the Canadian rye I'm preparing to slug, to soften the edges on the past two and a half hours.

Working full-time

As I knew would be the case, it's not that bad. 

At least not yet.  I'm sure all the little nit-picky stuff that gets put off because time is tighter will accumulate in the back corner of my mind over the coming weeks.  And they'll eventually build up to a crescendo of holy-shit-the-half-done-undone-needing-to-be-done-crap-is-sending-me-to-Crazytown, unfairly bestowing upon my husband a franticly irrational, albeit passionately defended, meltdown to assuage.

But for now, we're all good.

So good that I didn't mind leaving the kitchen half-a-mess Sunday night after hosting a really nice family dinner. Ok, I minded, but Brian convinced me to let it go and sit on the couch for a bit with one more glass of wine. That's progress.

So good that we have somehow become adept at a weekday morning routine that readies me and the baby, often 10 or 15 minutes earlier than expected.  Occasionally there are early morning tears because little boy would rather be held than play with toys on the floor watching Mama, or tantrums because breakfast isn't coming fast enough, but generally, our mornings offer some great smiles and a good mix of one-on-one time balanced with the requisite hair-doing and makeup-applying.

So good that I relished in the surprise excitement I felt yesterday afternoon -- little-kid excited, all heart-a-flutter and quick-breathing -- when I realized that in just a few hours I'd be home, catching up with my little boy on all the new lessons and excitement his Monday brought him.  That's an unexpected treat, I tell ya.  No, I don't have as many long weekends to look forward to lounging and erranding with my boy as I used to, but that electric excitement, the joy of anticipation, is pretty darn exhiliarating.  I'll take it.

So good, in fact, that I'm looking ahead with hope rather than anxiety or fear to other changes that are-a-coming, changes which may challenge or complicate the life balance and perspective I try to maintain.  Hopeful, because I'm confident I can excel in different aspects of my life simultaneously.  I can grow on different levels and in different ways than other people choose to grow.  And no one way is right or wrong, better or worse.  The simple truth -- and one it's taken me a year or two to really, fully appreciate -- is that a person is responsible for defining her own roles in her life: mother, wife, employee, boss, volunteer, friend, house-keeper, preserver of life's love and inspiration.  No need to compare my recipe for a full life, which portions all those roles and priorities appropriately in a balance that makes me happy, to that of anyone else.

We're all good.

Mini Super Hero

I'm feeling just a little bit super-hero today, after not just making it through the past week and a half, but actually scoring some pretty satisfying personal and professional achievements along the way.

First, the professional ones: I made it through an extremely busy, full week of work last week, planning 'til my head hurt and cranking out pages and pages of PR work. Felt fantastic to be valued as an integral member of the team. All that work culminated in three successful events yesterday (hello, media blitz!), and a personal wish from the Governor to have a safe trip home from Philly. Nice touch.

On a personal level, not only did I succeed each day last week in pumping enough milk for Chicken's following day, but I raised the pumping bar on Monday. Two pumps at work before departing for Philly, then two pumps in the car on the turnpike. My hooter hider (super hero cape for the nursing mom?) covered up the hands-free arrangement beautifully, and although output was a little lower yesterday afternoon (since I couldn't massage the girls while pumping), I made it home safe and sound with a cooler of milk for the following day.

And, knock on wood, we may be out of the biting woods. Last week was tough, because Cayden bit me just about every time I offered him the boob: when I got home from work, before bed, first thing in the morning. I tried a number of tricks: reacting, not reacting; walking away from him, sternly scolding him. Never resorted to nose flicking, but I gave it my all otherwise. I started to doubt myself and became very frustrated with Cayden, knowing he couldn't understand the pressure and stress he put on me, but resenting him a little bit for it, nonetheless. I mean, here I was, trying everything under the sun to make pumping easier for me so I can continue to provide for him. Then when I got home and could take advantage of the beautiful and natural way nursing is supposed to happen, my son's repeated bites just made me sad and angry.

I don't know what happened, but suddenly Saturday morning, Cayden stopped biting. Hasn't bit me since Friday, and oh how I love nursing him again. Win-win, here.

We also loved our weekend away, which brought its own small victories. Planning and packing mindfully enough that we didn't forget anything we couldn't fix on the fly. OK, so we forgot Chicken's ENTIRE COOLER OF FOOD, but we found a supermarket and resorted to organic store-bought jars in a pinch. I succeeded in holding it together as the only Mama to bring her baby to Erin's baby shower on Saturday, perhaps even looking graceful doing it, at times.

Balancing on five-inch heels while bouncing a 24-pound baby slung to my hip? You bet I can.

Lactivist I am not, but we did opt to enjoy the entire shower using the Hooter Hider, rather than sneak away to another room to nurse. That was the first time I breastfed in front of a group of people that included gals I didn't know (outside BF group, where support is kind of inherent) and that could have included some people uncomfortable with nursing in public. But Erin is planning to breastfeed, so I figured I'd go ahead and make my mini-statement. My baby was fed, and I got to explain my present as Erin opened it. Double score.

We also celebrated the small victory of travelling just over two hours in a car, without so much as a single cry on the way to D.C. Cayden's patience ran out sooner on the way home, but it's amazing what a calming effect Mama moving to the back seat and plying the baby with apple pieces and mango puffs has.

So there it is, the past week-plus that inspired some gratifying "yeah, I can juggle it all" confidence.

OK, so my floors did NOT get cleaned this past week, but I'm ok with that. Because a full, rich life is all about striking a balance among work, family and friends. And sometimes chores have to be put on the back burner to enjoy the important stuff.

Now, if only I could convince Chicken to sleep in past 6:30 a.m. on Thursday, so I could perhaps catch up on sleep myself.

A personal victory

Well, I made it through a full, five-day work week, and what a week it was.

Supermom I don't proclaim to be, but I am proud to have conquered a week of out-of-the-ordinary challenges and an inbox that sometimes seemed bottomless pretty much unscathed. I didn't sacrifice a single pumping session (although my schedule did require flexibility a couple of days to accommodate pressing business), and I even made time to spend an hour-long lunch today down the street from the office, doing a small part to help Josiah and Christine prepare to welcome home their five-week-early bundle of joy, Rachel Elise.

I did not bring work home a single night, nor did I stay at the office past 5:30 at all. So baby Cayden got his lovey time with Mama, even if it was just an hour and a half each morning and two hours each night.

And despite the more-than-plentiful workload, I managed to clear my desk of all but three projects I'll tackle Monday.

This week was a confidence-builder. I'm feeling a bit of "if I could do this, I could do anything."

But I'd be lying through my teeth if I said I was ready to give up my four-day weekends with baby on a regular basis, yet.

Pumping Panic

OK, not a full-blown panic, but a mini-panic. When I first started back at work, I could easily pump 20+ ounces while away from my baby.

Over the past three weeks I've really noticed a drop-off, and today I only got 15.5 ounces out of my four pump sessions.

Now although we haven't dipped into the freezer stash at all yet, and what I'm pumping seems to be enough each day for Cayden, I'm concerned nonetheless. I don't want my supply to tank because I'm away from him, and I'm terrified of starting to defrost little milk baggies. I'd much rather the babysitters send home four to six ounces each day, like they were in the beginning.

Probably irrational concerns, but the decreasing pump production has weighed on my mind a lot lately.

So I've started chugging water at work, I'm returning to my once-daily oatmeal habit, I changed the little white thingies on the bottom of my pump flanges (maybe that's why six of them came with the pump??) and I ordered a near three-month supply of fenugreek, all in an effort to boost my supply.

If I start smelling like pancakes in the next few days, don't worry -- that means I'm getting the right amount of fenugreek. When it's saturating your system to effectively boost milk production, a person's pee and sweat will smell like maple syrup. Yummm.

And I'm looking forward to group on Thursday to ask Mary and the gals if this could be a natural reaction to his demand for milk. I seem to match what he takes in each day, so maybe his appetite has decreased over the past couple of weeks? That seems strange to me, though -- why would he eat less as he got older? Because he's not growing as fast as he was in the first three months? Hopefully I'll find answers on Thursday, or maybe on Friday at our four-month well visit with Dr. Baker.

On a completely unrelated topic, here's a picture of Cayden's now nearly-bald-except-for-two-ridiculously-long-patches-of-hair head. Compare that to the beautiful full-head swirl from just shy of 12 weeks. Oh I miss his beautiful dark hair, but I kinda wish what is left would just fall out already, so we can start over fresh, and all one decent-looking length. But I'm too chicken-shit to cut or shave his hair, for fear I'll be the horrible mom who did a hack-job on her innocent baby.

Gettin' Stuff Done

Before I returned to work I had become a pro at multi-tasking while pumping. I could pump, nurse the baby, eat a snack and read a magazine all at one time.

Now I've learned to multi-task at work, and I can talk on the phone, e-mail and edit copy, all while pumping. One-handed peck-typing is frustrating, but it's more productive than staring at baby pictures for 15 minutes!

And here are a couple of the great inventions that help us to get things done around the house.

The Bumbo chair, which helps Cayden build muscles while we cook dinner.


And my Baby Balboa sling, which enables me to do dishes, laundry, vacuuming, etc. And it's the recommended mode of transport for Chicken Wing during flu season, so he's not exposed to dirty shopping carts and over-eager baby lovers who feel it's appropriate to touch a baby in a car seat.


Funny, how so many baby gadgets start with the letter "B".

3 Month, 1 Day Update

First of all, Cayden's vaccination this afternoon (the first of two prevnar shots to prevent Pneumococcal disease) went fine. A little cry after the needle, but he nursed and fell asleep right afterward. No reaction so far, other than a particularly sleepy baby this afternoon, but that may be because of the baby Tylenol. And the best part? Our alternate vaccination schedule isn't even going to cost us any extra money, because my insurance doesn't charge a co-pay for nurse-only visits!

Hopefully my swine flu vaccination will go as well tomorrow.

Today I explored Once Upon A Child for the first time, and I think we'll become regular customers. I got Chicken Wing's entire 9-month wardrobe for $68! And by 9-month wardrobe, I mean that's the size he's moving into now, so I had to stock up on long-sleeved onesies, pants and sleepers before he outgrows all his 6-month clothes.

Last night, at three months old, Cayden slept for a 5-hour stretch. It was very nice.

I definitely built my return to work up to be much worse than it actually was. I enjoyed the mental stimulation, and my baby did just fine with all his Grammas. I think I'm going to have to pump four times a day rather than three, however, to keep up with his intake. Mary said today it will take about three weeks for the both of us to really get into the groove of a routine, so we're supposed to rest and nurse as much as possible in the next couple of weeks to keep my supply plentiful and get him settled into a regular eating and sleeping routine during our days apart.

And lastly, here's Cayden taking his 11-o'clock bottle last night. He can't hold it by himself for long, but he knows how!

My pledge

My pledge to myself, my son, my husband and my job, on the eve of my return to work:

I pledge to keep my family my number one priority, while still performing as an integral, dedicated and valued employee.

I pledge to work harder than ever from 8:30 a.m. to 5 or 5:30 p.m., Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday for the next nine months. I pledge to only take breaks for pumping and to rarely take lunch, so as to get as much work done as possible before the end of each day.

Because at the end of each day, whenever humanly possible, I pledge to leave on time to see my son as soon as I can. I pledge to greet him each evening with a boob for nourishment and comfort, and I pledge to give him as much of me as I can until we're all used to the new routine.

I pledge to leave work at work each day (mostly) so that my two hours before bedtime with my baby are spent soaking up his little moments, rather than dwelling on big-kid stuff.

I pledge to work harder than I ever have three days a week so that I can enjoy four days a week with my son, free of guilt. However, I also pledge to not try to accomplish a week's worth of work in three days, both because I don't want to be drained on my days with Cayden, and because the fact of the matter is I'll be collecting a paycheck for three days of work, not five.

I pledge to be the best employee I can possibly be, understanding that I have a new number-one priority.

Remind me of all of this when the shit hits the fan at work, and when I try to take on the world in my typical no-challenge-too-big, no-reward-too-small style.

Just call me Bessie

If there's one thing I know I'm doing well in raising this baby, it's breastfeeding. After some initial challenges (mostly me keeping up with Cayden's appetite), we're definitely in a groove.

And much of the credit for our success has to go to Mary the LC and our Tuesday BF group. The stories and tips the other moms shared have really helped me trooper through. It's just so comforting to know other moms have been there before, and it's encouraging to see the older babies as a glimpse of better, easier times to come. Many, many times I looked at another mom/baby pair in group and said to myself, "he's xx weeks. OK, I can make it to xx weeks."

So it was sad to attend our last BF group this morning. But I didn't cry until we were almost in the driveway back home. And I did get the e-mail address for Sara, mom to Carson, Cayden's birthday twin.

And now we move on to a new phase of nursing and breastfeeding, as I return to work. I've got 73 little baggies of milk stored up in the freezer -- that's nearly 300 ounces of milk, or more than two-and-a-quarter gallons. Since I'll be pumping a day behind for Cayden Monday through Wednesday, our "stash" will either last us a really long time or mean that I can slow or quit pumping earlier. That's assuming my supply holds up against the physiological change/challenge of replacing a baby with plastic horns a few times a day.

So I think I'll take the next few days off from pumping and just enjoy nursing Chicken Wing whenever possible. Because come Monday, the pump will become an integral part of my life at the office, three times each day.

Keeping up with the all-breastmilk diet is especially important to me now and through the winter, as the risk of contracting all kinds of flu is real and present. If Chicken Wing can't benefit directly from my flu shot (got it this morning), at least he'll benefit from the disease-fighting antibodies he'll continue to get en masse from milk.

My last Monday with Chicken Wing. Gulp

Brian keeps telling me not to be upset because I'll still have four days a week with him. He keeps reminding me "the gypsies aren't coming to take him away."

But it doesn't really ease the anxiety of spending three less days a week with Cayden. Why oh why did he just start to become fun so close to the end of my time off?

Even though I really am looking forward to going back to work part-time, now that I have less than a week left that day seems to have snuck up on me far to quickly.

Suddenly I wish we lived in Canada, where the government protects a mom's job and pays maternity unemployment for a year, and many employers "top you up" so moms can stay home longer and collect darn near a full paycheck.

I know we'll be fine and I'll enjoy my time apart getting fulfilling adult interaction, but I can't help but be scared shitless and really sad today.

Good news is Cayden slept from 9 to midnight last night, then from 12:30 to 5:30 a.m. He's 11 weeks, 6 days old today.

No I haven't had the baby, yes I'm still here.

I'm debating making a sign that says as much and taping it to my office door tomorrow. Because I'm kind of dreading another round of questions and inquisitive looks at work. Brian is trying to convince me to make tomorrow my last day at work, but I don't see the point in sitting home Tuesday, going stir crazy.

Tried just about every labor-inducing trick in the book this weekend (except castor oil; Brian's research on that one scared him a little), to no avail. Did lose more mucous plug Thursday and Friday, and I think I finally identified some Braxton Hicks Saturday night at the Grantville carnival. But no signs that anything is moving anytime soon.

Friday night saw a mini-meltdown and a lot of frustrated tears. Turns out watching shows about babies and birth experiences is not a great idea for someone who wants nothing more than to meet her own baby.

Look folks, I'm just as surprised and increasingly disappointed not to have a baby by now. I know everyone means well, but the same question wares on me after time, ya know?

Two more days. Two more days. Two more days...

Clarification of a few points

I'm not interested in entertaining a discussion on first amendment rights or sparking a debate on social media and its role in personal vs. professional lives. Not right now, at least. However, I do want to clarify the following.

1. I take my job very seriously, and I continually strive to meet and exceed professional expectations. I'm proud of the quantity and quality of work product I put forth.

2. My personal life and my professional life do not exist independently of each other; I am one person, and my values, character and principles of self do not change when I walk into or out of the office.

3. Neither my employer's standards of conduct nor my own professional ethics prohibited or precluded me from participating in or sharing my maternity photos. I understand some people may find the photos distasteful, and I respect opinions that differ from mine. However, I personally find the experience they captured and the images themselves beautiful, and therefore I chose to share them in my own public forum. Regardless of who sees them -- my parents, my pastor, my bosses, my critics and everyone in between -- I'm proud of the photos. So after careful consideration and for the aforementioned reasons, the photos are staying on the blog. I have nothing to be ashamed of or embarrased about.

Thank you, readers, for respecting my personal appreciation for artistic expression, even if you disapprove of the images.

My Surprise Work Shower

Some of these just crack me up.

Me, confused as to what I've just walked into.




Me, still in shock at seeing Brian at my office. Can you believe how excited HE is about this shower??







Revenue people. I think it's worth noting that this is the only shower I've ever heard of or seen where men in suits and ties attended. Thank you, gentlemen executives, for attending, not balking at the shower game and not being intimidated by the rattle confetti and pastel paper products.
The gift/cake table
My gracious hosts and me: Veronica (Lottery Press/PR), Steph (my boss), me, Nancy (Secretary's Executive Assistant) and Janel (Revenue Press).

Three teary moments in one day

What started out a not-so-great day ended up a pretty darn good day, today.

I first got emotional this morning on the way to work. I creamed a chipmunk with the RAV4. Silly thing ran into the middle of the road, then tried to cross back and went smoosh under my tires. So I cried a little on the way to work.

But while the first tears of the day were sad, the second and third emotional moments were happy.

My wonderful boss and coworkers surprised me today with a baby shower over lunch. They snuck around planning, decorating and even sneaking Brian into the office -- all literally steps from my office door -- and completely took me by surprise. I thought Steph (my boss) had left for lunch plans, so when Nancy (the Secretary's executive assistant) came over to say the big boss wanted to see one of us, I walked into the party completely shocked and a little confused, for a split-second. So I teared up a bit for the second time today, before pulling it together to chat, joke and eat with all these wonderful folks over lunch. I'm so grateful to work with such caring people. And generous people! A number of them got gifts for baby boy and I, and the whole gang went in on a very generous Babies'R'Us gift card.

And although Brian had to leave before the party was over -- after all, I thought he was going to be IN State College by noon to kick of a weekend with the Millersville boys -- it was really neat to be able to quickly show him my office. It was the first time he'd seen where I disappear to for 40+ hours a week.

So it was a good afternoon. :)

Then I had to run home briefly after work before heading up to my parents' for dinner. When I got home, I greeted the cats and got their dinner out, then saw a card propped up on the kitchen island for me. Brian left the most beautiful card for me, so I melted into tears for the third time today.

Even though the chipmunk started the day off on the wrong foot and a couple of work experiences challenged my patience today, it ended up being a really, really good day. One of those days that just kind of glows in your memory as, well, just plain neat.

Yippee!!!!!!!!!!

Confirmation came this morning that my maternity leave plans are approved by all parties!!

In a week we'll start getting a new member of our press office in the groove of things, and she'll have (hopefully) three to four months to get up to speed before I go missing.

16 weeks, with Spike

Still not much, which is frustrating to Brian. But I reminded him today that Leah K. told me a couple years ago she didn't start showing until her fifth month. That would be just fine by me.

Word is starting to spread around the office, although I'm still waiting for that perfect opportunity to share the news with coworkers directly.

The good news of late is that my boss and the top-boss at Revenue reviewed my proposed plan for maternity leave, and they're fine with it. Now we're trying to figure out how to present the plan to the Gov's office, and we're hoping and praying the top-boss over there approves it. Not the Gov, that is (he will likely never know who I am or that I'm pregnant), but one of his staff. The plan is for me to take three months off paid leave (sick for the first two, annual/personal for the third), followed by nine months of a part-time, three-day-a-week work schedule, until the baby's first birthday. I was pleasantly surprised to find out how flexible Revenue is in allowing part-time schedules for parental leave, and I'm excited to (hopefully) stretch my time off with the baby over the course of the whole first year, rather than all up front. Hmmm, four day weekends every week for nine months. :) And even better, Revenue won't change my employee classification for that nine-month span, so I'll still have all my health benefits at no extra cost. Yippee!!

Add to that the fact that we may be able to swing the entire first year without having to pay for daycare (a couple of very generous family members have tentatively volunteered for regular babysitting duties *thank you, thank you, thank you*), and everything is coming up roses, so far!

So, keep your fingers crossed that we get through this last level of approval without any issues...

Hellloooo, second trimester!

Other than a few headaches this past week and the continuous early-evening exhaustion, I'm still feeling great.

I'm wondering if the tiredness will begin to wane soon as many of the books say it does during the second tri, only to return full-force in the last three months of pregancy.

On another (completely unrelated) note, the next few weeks will test my dedication to heels. From what I've read, increased relaxin (a hormone) will start coursing through my body, and just as it allows the pelvic bones to expand in preparation for giving birth, it can also loosen other joints. In short, my feet may expand (oh, yay! *cough, sarcasm, cough*) and my balance may be affected. Gulp.

In other news, word will be spreading soon around my workplace as the top bosses are made aware of my condition. I'm ready to share the news with anyone interested, but it's funny how seamless and appropriate opportunities to bring up the topic with coworkers just haven't manifested themselves. Everytime the idea crosses my mind, it seems like an akward attention grab. Just waiting for that perfect segue...

We're also exploring two options for maternity leave, and we're hoping the powers-that-be agree that three months paid leave followed by about nine months of part-time work (three days a week) will be best plan for all parties involved.

And while I think it's way, way early to be thinking about child care, apparently I'm wrong. Otherwise, there wouldn't be waiting lists 20 to 30 infants deep at local centers. So I'm gathering basic info and touching base with Jess's in-home daycare giver to lay the groundwork. Sounds crazy, but I think people must have started planning daycare before they got pregnant.

Headaches, shoes, co-workers and daycare. That should suffice for an update and a strange association of completely unrelated things.