Life of a Working Mama

Well, Chunkin.

It's 10:24.

Exactly one hour and 24 minutes past mama's bedtime.

That's right.
I *try* to go to bed by 9:00 every night.
Which gets me 8 hours of sleep, seeing that I get up at 5:00 a.m.

But I've had 2 cups of coffee.
In an attempt to stay up and prepare for my planned observation next week.

I've worked nonstop since you went to bed at 6:15.
Over three hours.

This seems to be a recurring theme the past couple of weeks.

Because, let's be honest.

Long gone are the days of simply passing out worksheets and popping in videos.

*Makes me want to sucker-punch anyone who tells me that it must be nice to work 8-4 and have summers off.*

Ahem.
Excuse the violence.

Besides.
I've decided to have a positive attitude, remember?
Going to work with a purpose.
Making it better.
Making my students better.

For me, this means giving my all to my job.
And still trying to balance work life and home life.
To love my job, but leave work at work.

Not so possible when you're a teacher.
Can't do your actual "work" until the work day is finished.
Because during the work day, you're a bit preoccupied with a little thing called students.

In other work news, my worst nightmare finally came true last week.
I say "finally" because it was inevitable.
Especially when you're me.
And have been blessed with my "luck".

Of course it involves pumping.
Because the pump and I have a love-hate relationship.
I hate the pump.
And the pump loves to torture me.

I was in an important meeting during my plan time.
Plan time = pump time, FYI.

I started to panic as the meeting started to run over.
I knew someone was covering me until I could return to my classroom.
But all I could picture was 20 antsy fourth graders testing the limits while Mean Mrs. Green was away.

I was also very aware that I still needed to pump.
Badly.

More panic.

I asked our super-understanding counselor if I could borrow her office.
I normally pump in my classroom during plan time.
But, my heavens, I couldn't do that with 20 fourth graders in there.
Because my meeting ran over, remember?

I knew I'd have to make it a quickie.

So, I locked both doors.
And started my business.
I texted Gabe to tell him how crazy my morning was.
And how awkward I felt to be in an unfamiliar office.
Doing something so personal.

Then.
The door handle started to rattle.

Holy-hyperventalation.
I yelled, "Someone's in here."

And held my breath.

Then, I heard a key.
I yelled, "PLEASE DON'T COME IN".

Three times.

And what do you know?
In waltzes my principal.

It took her a minute to fully comprehend what was going on.

She immediately turned around and said (at least a dozen times),
"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry".

Absolute horrification.

I'm not so sure which party was more mortified.

On the positive side?
She's a woman.

But still my boss nonetheless.

And my evaluation is next week, remember?

Sigh.

Life of a working mama.

Good thing you're cute, Chunkin.

Week 23: A Surprise Visitor

Week 23: 01/20/13 - 01/26/13

So many major changes last week, Beans.

The first one was a big surprise. 

College pals came in town to visit Mommy. 

Well, to visit you, really.

And you made Mom and Dad so proud. 

You were a trooper and hung out the entire day.

Without an afternoon nap.

Hung at a bar for hours.

Watched the K-State game.

Flirted with all the boys.

I mean, seriously flirted.

But you did start to get a little fussy.

So mom nursed you.

*In a bar*. 

And you were good to go. 

You started gnawing on my finger. 

And bit down. 

Hard. 

Par for the course lately.

But, this particular bite-down hurt.

It caught me so off guard, I seriously thought a sharp object was in your mouth.

Until I realized it was a TOOTH. 

Mark it down, Chunkin.

January 26, 2013 was when we discovered your first little chomper.

I nearly cried. 

Something about your first tooth was just so cute.

And it came out of nowhere.

Totally explains why you've been making silly, squealy squawking noises.
And stretching your neck out like a turtle.

And excessively drooling.

And acting irritated.

And playing with your tongue and gums.

A lot. 

Nothing some Hyland teething tablets won't help.

And some extra cuddles. 

I'd typically describe your little personality as laid back.

Quiet.

Reserved, even.

But also quite happy. 

And giggly.

Just like your dad.

Well, I wouldn't quite describe Dad as "giggly". 

But you go through spurts where you just like to talk.

A lot. 

This is where you're like Mommy.

And lately?

You've been making "mmmm" sounds.

Those sounds have turned into full-blown "ma-ma-ma-ma's".

Totally counting it as "mama." 

Ok. 

Maybe not.

But, it's so cute to hear that when GiGi puts you down for naps, you start babbling, "ma-ma-ma-ma". 

I guess all that practice has paid off.

*Self-high-five*. 

But believe me. 

You l.o.v.e. your daddy.

And start kicking every time you see him.

Another change?

You have developed a bit of stranger anxiety.
This started a couple of weeks ago, actually.
I thought it was way too early for this sort of behavior.
But I just read that around 5 months, some babies really understand stranger danger.

Like when we had friends in town, you clung to me tightly while you just observed.
And stared.
And puckered out your bottom lip.
As a warning.
"Don't even think about handing me over to someone other than you, Mom".

After about 10 minutes, you were all smiles.
And were passed around by all.

You are even cautious with Grams and Gramps.
When they visit, we can't just hand you over to them.
It takes you a bit to get used to them.

Surely this is just a phase.

But I would be lying if I said it doesn't make me feel a *wee* bit special.
And I'm reassured of our sweet bond.
Our hour together in the morning and then again in the evening are the very best parts of my day.

And our new little thing?

You reach out to grab my face.
And I chomp on your cheeks.

You think this is the most hilarious thing you've ever experienced.
So, of course I do it every chance I get.

Gosh I love those cheeks.

New Mommy Files: Tummy Troubles

Everything about being a new mom is completely foreign.

Just when you think you've got things mastered,
Boom.
Baby decides to start preferring/doing the complete opposite.

Trial and error has become an everyday occurrence in this household.

Maybe you can relate to some of our experiences.
Maybe not.
Maybe you're horrified by some of the things we've done to survive this whole parenthood thing.
But I like to think of this as the judgement-free zone.
Can we agree to that?

Either way, I'm going to share some things we've learned and mistakes we've made along the way. Please share your experiences too. Because I'm always gaining my best info from other mamas.

I chose this week's topic simply because I've gotten so many questions and several e-mails regarding reflux. So let's talk tummy, shall we?

And because I like to get a little crazy and mix things up a bit, let's start with the moral of the story.

Always trust your gut (no pun intended). You are mom. Doesn't matter that you're new at this. Your instinct knows best.

Knowing Something Was Wrong

It all started when Lyla turned 6 weeks old. Something dramatically and instantly changed.
We went from having a super chill and extremely happy newborn, to a full-blown fussy baby.

It lasted for about a week when I knew something was wrong.
We all know that newborns cry a lot, but this was different.
My instinct told me Ly was in pain.
This was also about the time she started projectile spitting up.
*P.S. All babies spit up (some even projectile), but this does not necessarily mean that anything is wrong with your baby.*

Every time she ate, things would get bad.
Spitting up.
Kicking.
Screaming.
Arching her back.
Sometimes for hours on end.

Luckily, the screaming fits were somewhat infrequent.

I kept thinking to myself how lucky we were to not have a "colicky" baby.

You know the ones.

Poor sweeties who cry for hours on end for days/weeks/months at a time.

Lyla was never like that. 

Although infrequent, when she did have one of her hysterical meltdowns, they lasted for hours.

She seemed so uncomfortable.
And in so much pain. 

So we took her to the doctor.
All the symptoms pointed to reflux.
Our doctor (who we trust and love so much) put her on reflux medicine.

Instant relief.

We also tilted her crib and held her upright for 30 minutes after eating.
*Worked wonders.*

We breathed a huge sigh of relief.
Our happy baby was back.
...Or so we thought.

Things Get Worse

About 2 and a half months went by.
No problems.
I think Lyla cried maybe 3 times in that time period.
Total.

Then at around 4 months, the problems returned.
Arching.
Screaming.
Gurgling sounds in the belly.
Curdled spit up a couple hours after eating.

The weird and somewhat frustrating thing was that her "episodes" were so unpredictable.
Sometimes, I even wondered if we were imagining them.
Except for one time with my mom, she never had one in front of grandparents or friends.

But suddenly, the episodes seemed to get more frequent.

Our nerves were on edge every time we took her out.
So we just stopped taking her places.
We simply had no idea when, where, or long a severe meltdown would last.

Her longest episode lasted for 3 hours.
Unconsolable screaming and kicking.
Refused the paci.
Refused to nurse.

We went an entire month without taking her out in public.
Except to friends' houses two or three times.

The only thing that would calm her down was us pressing as hard as we could on her belly for hours at a time.
Until she would finally fall asleep.

We took her to the doctor two more times.
Tried two more medicines.

Nothing helped anymore.

The worst part? We knew her cries were for a purpose. She would look intently in our eyes while tears streamed down her face. Her eyes were begging us to help. And she was just so needy.

Finding Another Solution

My mom and several friends kept suggesting to take her to a chiropractor.
Apparently some specialize in reflux and colic.
I was skeptical, to say the least.

But what did we have to lose?
Nothing else was working.

So Gabe took her to the chiropractor.
He was *highly* referred by several friends.
Plus he specialized in babies.
And one of our chiropractor friends said he was the absolute best, and trained chiropractors from all over the world.
I was still nervous.

After her first appointment, Gabe came home and filled me in on the major details:
1). The chiropractor was confident Lyla did not have reflux.
2). But there was indeed something wrong with her.
3). We needed to take her off her reflux medicine...immediately.
4). I needed to change my diet for the next 2 weeks to turkey, chicken, bread, cheese, and green beans.
5). We would need to bring her in every day for the next two weeks for treatments.

I nearly fell over.
A lot of information to process.
And take her off her medicine?
We tried that twice, and it was a total disaster.

I needed more information ASAP.

The Real Problem

He went on to explain more.

Lyla may not have had reflux, but she did have a problem. The valve between her small and large intestine was loose. So when she ate, food would leak out of that valve, travel up, and go back through the intestines causing some serious P-A-I-N.

This is also a common cause of...colic.

So...my baby has colic? But, wait a minute, what?

Basically, when Lyla ate too much, the valve leaked, and she would be in intense pain until the food worked its way back through her system. Subsequently, she would cry until she felt better. Sometimes this took 2-3 hours.

According to the chiro, around 40% of all babies are diagnosed with reflux. Unfortunately, around 90% of those cases are not actually reflux at all.

But, I was so confused. If Lyla didn't have reflux, why did she have all the symptoms? And more importantly, why did the reflux medicine work like a charm (at least for awhile)?

He actually treats babies with reflux. And he said in the rare case a baby actually does have reflux, the most common thing they will do is constantly cough and choke while eating and then start refusing food all together because it is so difficult for them to swallow.

We all know Chunkin never refuses to eat. Ever.

And why did the medicine work so well if she never had reflux?
The medicine can be unpredictable. Sometimes it works. Sometimes not. But it does tend to mask the real problem if a baby doesn't have reflux.
Most babies grow out of their "reflux" by 3-4 months.
Therefore the medicine can mask the real problem for that short time.
But in Lyla's case, she wasn't outgrowing it.
And the real problem persisted.

And in Lyla's case, it was so hard to "diagnose" because she had a mild case of colic.

If her case was mild, my heart goes out to those who have babes with severe cases.

Because this "mild" case was strong enough to nearly send me into cardiac arrest.

Holy.Moly. 

How the Treatment Works

He "tested" his theory with Lyla by simply pressing on the area where this connector valve is located.
Sure enough.
Instant pain.
And screaming for about an hour.
He pushed, and simply made the food work its way through her little system.

Then she fell asleep instantly.

He did that for two weeks straight.
Laid her on a pillow in his lap.
Pushed on the valve.
Simply strengthening her muscle.
To make it stop leaking.

Every treatment got better than the last.
We even took her to his house on a Saturday when things got bad at the beginning.
His house!
For two hours.

That's service, I tell ya.

Did We See Results?

All I know is that Lyla hasn't had one single episode since our treatments have started.
We could see instant relief on her little face.
She's been off medicine for 4 weeks.
She has more energy.
She rarely fusses.
She smiles all day, every day.
She can actually be placed on her tummy without screaming.
She can sit without projectile spitting up.
She just looks more comfortable.
She loves snuggling and cuddling now.
She can actually make it through an evening without having a meltdown.

We have a baby who is significantly happier.
More comfortable.
And is clearly pain free.

I'd say it worked.

So, believe what you will about chiropractors.
But it worked for us.

And I'm now I'm a believer.
So incredibly thankful for Dr. S.

Uh-oh. Mom Jeans are next.

Well folks.
The inevitable has happened.
And there's no use fighting it anymore.

The ol' blog has officially become mommy-ized.

So, I guess if you can't beat em, join em.
...or something like that.

It all started when I had a come-to-Jesus moment.
Just after Christmas.

I had developed major identity confusion.
Am I a rockstar teacher?
Or am I a fabulous mother?
Am I really good at one?
Or am I kind of good at both?
How can I do it all?
How do other women make it seem so easy?
Am I the only one who feels lucky to make it out the door with both eyes mascara-ed and a matching pair of shoes?
Or maybe I'm just certifiably, full-blown CRAZY.

Then I realized my life consisted of two things.
And only two things.
Lyla.
and
Students.

Every waking, breathing moment consisted of:
planning.
pumping.
grading.
pumping
teaching.
classroom management.
pumping.
meetings.
maintaining a house.
pumping.
nursing.
caring for a baby.

I was miserable.
And starting to get quite bitter that I was working,
instead staying home with my sweet-cheeks.
Because if I stayed home of course, I could part ways with my arch nemesis,
Mr. Pump.

That's when two things happened.

1). I saw a quote in my bathroom at school. *of all places*

"If you don't like something, change it. If you can't change it, change your attitude."  

The irony.
Reading a quote at my work.
And realizing I can't change one thing right now.
So better change my attitude.
...about work.
And maybe even pumping too.
Thank you, Maya Angelou.

2). I had an epiphany.
I knew removing something from my plate was impossible.
So why not add something instead?
(See, told you I am certifiably cray-cray).

I needed a hobby.
Something for me.
Just me.

And then my husband,
thinking 8-steps ahead of me,
got me a new camera for Christmas.
Boom.
New hobby.

And then I remembered I had a blog.
Boom.
Hobby.
Not another check on my to-do list,
but a journal of life.
*And my really cheap therapy session.*

And yes, maybe every single thing I talk about revolves around some kind of bodily fluid.
Or how incredibly cute I think my offspring is.

But it's for me.
And I really need that right now.

And then I got really excited.
I thought, why not be resourceful as well?

Blogging is a place to record memories.
Document milestones.
Make friends.
And find resources.

I can't tell you how many late nights I've spent scouring the inter webs looking for answers to questions.
Why isn't she sleeping through the night?
What do I do when my babe is congested?
Is it normal for human waste to look like that?

And guess where I've found some of my best answers?
From other mamas.
And even if they do things differently than me,
it's SO nice to learn about a variety of options.
And hear others' stories.
And know that I'm not alone in all of this.

With that being said.
I'm going to *try* to regularly post on certain new-mommy topics.
Share things that have worked for us.
And what hasn't.
So I can look back.
And use it as a resource.
And maybe others will post and share their experience too.
And thus creating more resources for more often-times-lost new mamas.

So. My first topic will be tummy troubles.
I've gotten 5 e-mails in the last month with questions from others who have babes with tummy problems as well.

So please join me this week as I share our troubles with baby's tum-tum.
Maybe you'll gain some info.
And in return, I can get some info from you?
Quid.Quo.Pro.

All of that, my friends, was an incredibly long-winded way to go about saying, 

this mama needed a hobby.

And that I really like the blog community.

The end.

P.S. Did you really think I'd end a post without one single picture?

Week 22: Mama's Back

Week 22: 01/13/13 - 01/19/13

Two months.

That's how long it's been.

Since I left my babe.
Went back to work.
Entered a warzone of a classroom.
Began the journey of being a working mom.
Learned to balance 8,000 things at once.

And that's precisely how long it's taken me to process my new normal.
To figure out just exactly how to manage it all.
Grade papers.
Plan lessons.
Keep up with laundry.
Bottles.
Dishes.
Diapers.
Errands.
Cooking.
Cleaning.
Breastfeeding.
Pumping.

All while my immune system took a major nosedive.
*More like completely shut down.*
All while trying to figure out what was wrong with our usually-happy-but-suddenly-screaming-a-lot-and-totally-miserable baby.

But last week was different.
I woke up on Monday and didn't feel empty.
or nervous.
or scatterbrained.
or depressed.
or stressed.
or sick.

I actually felt normal.

Myself.

Truly...happy again. 

It's amazing how wonderful one can feel.
With a full night's sleep.
Without being sick.
Without having a sick child.
Without a clogged duct. (Although I managed to get one this week. Argh.)

It was also the first week where I actually enjoyed my job again.
And remembered why I entered the education profession.
And where I didn't feel incredibly socially awkward.

Some would say I got my groove back.

Two long months.
That seemed like an eternity.
But looking forward to moving forward.

Another added bonus last week?

Chunkin decided to love cuddling again.
She has been quite the snuggle-bear.
Something that hasn't occurred since she was a newborn.
After nursing in the mornings, she puts her arms around my neck and lays her head on my shoulder.
Best moments of the day.
By far.

So thank you, Week 22.
Cheers to being normal again.

Five Months

Five Months: 01/19/13

How?

How has it been five months?

I love you so much. And this is an incredibly fun age.

I enjoyed this month. Even though it has been one of the most difficult. 

Being a teacher has caused mom to get sick over and over again.

And I gave you your first little cold.

But you toughed it out like a champ.

And your "reflux" came back in full swing. 

So bad that we decided to take matters into our own hands.

Got two full weeks of chiropractic treatments. 

And took you off your medicine. 

Cold turkey.

You're a new baby.

*Update soon*

Milestones this month:

Still not rolling over. At all. In fact, you don't seem the slight bit interested. Or motivated.  The pediatrician has attributed it to the fact that you've had major tummy issues. Now that we've got those fixed, you actually tolerate being on your tummy. You just don't remember how to roll. And don't really seem eager to.  

Sitting. You are so incredibly close to sitting up by yourself. You've done it a few times for GiGi and me, but you quickly lean back against something. You even pulled yourself up with GiGi - with no help! Only a matter of time. And you sure love to sit. It's your favorite position by far.

Standing. Although a wee wobbly at times, you sure love to stand with our help. In fact, we've realized that will get you to stop fussing every single time you're upset. You love.love.love. to stand. Strong little babe.

Motor Skills. You pick everything up to put it in our mouth. Your ball. Blankets. Toys. Sophie the Giraffe. Your pacifier. But your most favorite is still my hair. Ouch!

Engagement. You love to play, talk, and giggle. Although I'd say you're a fairly quiet and pretty laid back baby - totally take after dad in that department. You still really like to smile at others, but you definitely prefer mom, dad, and grandparents. You have finally reached the point where you get excited when I pick you up. Love. You're even starting to reach out a little to be held. 

You are not a fan of:

Reflux medicine. Thank goodness we finally took you off of it. 2 weeks, 1 day, and counting. 

Tummy aches. Again, pretty sure we've got this resolved. PTL.

Going more than 1 day without pooing. Holy moly. We have one cranky baby on our hands when those bowels aren't-a-movin. 

And that's pretty much the extent of things you don't like. 

Your loves: 

That thumb. Your most favorite love of all.

Mornings with mom. We *finally* have our little routine down. Nurse. Playtime. Mom sings and talks to you while she pumps. And sometimes we even have enough time for a story before I leave for work.

Happy Seat. At GiGi's and at home. You love to show off your standing skills and play with all the little toys. Insta-happiness.

Your dad. I swear your world stops when he walks into the room.   

Putting everything in your mouth. Especially your pink ball and Sophie the Giraffe. I love hearing little squishy sucking sounds when you chew on Sophie.

Grabbing mom's fingers to suck on. You loooove sneakily finding my fingers to put in your mouth.

Sitting in your highchair. We haven't started feeding you solids yet. But you sure love sitting at the table during meals. You feel like such a big girl. 

Now that we've fixed your broken tummy, things are already so much better. Here's to month 6!

Week 21: Recurring Theme

Week 21: 01/06/13 - 01/12/13

There's a circulating theme that keeps popping up in our household.

Well. Ours and about 8 million other households.

Sick.

And of course by our household, I really just mean me.

Yep. I've been sick on and off for 2 solid months.

And you, Baby Chunk, caught your first cold last week.

I went in to wake you up, only to hear rattling snot and a wheezing chest.

Talk about wrenching my heart.

But you just went about your business giggling and talking as usual.


Still broke my heart.

Last week was also our first round of daily chiropractic treatments. Your last treatment is tomorrow. I'm so excited to give a full report on this topic. No more tummy issues. No more medicine. It's a miracle. Fingers crossed...

In other news, Dad has a new schedule. One that reflects a normal human being. It's made my life significantly easier. He picks you up, and I'm able to come home to both my babies.

It's so cute how close you two are. Joined at the hip, really. You already have little inside jokes and a theme song even. I hear him singing it to you all the time.

The only thing is, Dad does things a tad differently than mom.

We've also been noticing some physical changes as of late. You still have a silly little bald spot in the back of your head. Yet, your hair is incredibly long. So, sometimes I have to do a double-take. Your current doppelganger is Michael Bolton.

And girl. Those thighs. Holy chubbalicious. And so delicious.

Some good news this week? You got to see your Auntie Laur and meet your Uncle Dustin as they were in from Uganda again. So fun seeing you with my bestie since kindie.

Oh. And let's talk about some skills you've mastered.
Er. Um.
Skills you have not totally mastered...yet.

Sigh.

I am convinced you've completely forgotten how to roll over.
It's giving mommy a slight heart attack.
Daddy, however, thinks it's no big deal.
He says you're just doing your thing. In no rush. Taking your sweet time.
Hmm.
Wonder where you get that characteristic from.

I just don't quite understand. You rolled all the time from 4 weeks (technically 3 and a half) until about 2 and a half months. And then just stopped. Now, you can't stand to be on your tum-tum. I mean you practically throw an all-out tantrum.

I must admit though. It is quite hilarious. We call you our little seal. Because you immediately put your arms behind you and bend up.

I keep telling myself that at least you're so close to sitting up on your own, and you love to stand with a little support of course. So, you are a strong little booger...just not motivated, I guess. Hey. Whatever makes mommy sleep a little better at night. ;)

And speaking of sleep...

Oh girlfriend. Thank you for letting mom and dad get sleep at night. We're now going on a solid two months of sleeping through the night. You go down at 6:30...sometimes even 6:00 and sleep without a peep until I go in and wake you at 6:30. And even if you do wake, you put yourself right back to sleep.

I'm totally going to do a sleep post too. Because getting a full-night's sleep is such a game changer.

So thanks, Chunkin.

And thanks for making me smile all.the.time.

Seriously.

Love you, Beans.