Summer in Review

first day of school (work) for mama!

Summer is over, and I am back to work (shh, no I’m not blogging from my desk when I should be putting together packets for the beginning of school). I decided that I was going to handle this transition differently than others, that I wouldn’t begin thinking or talking about it ahead of time. I have noticed my tendency to process, re-process, and then OVER-PROCESS impending transitions, and that actually contributes to my increased anxiety. So this time I ignored the transition. Maybe it was denial, or maybe it was really awesome coping, I’m not quite sure. And while last night I had a touch of restless sleeping, I’m going to chalk it up to that rascally 20 month old lying next to me.

To allay the back-to-work-mama guilt that started to spin my wheels around 5pm (all those ‘but I should have done this’ or ‘is it going to be hard for Potamus to go to daycare 4 days from only 2 days?’ thoughts, I decided to focus on what I HAD accomplished this summer. And it turns out that I was a pretty freaking amazing mom in the past 3 months of summer:

• Road trip to Cannon Beach
• no less than 6 trips to the zoo
• no less than 5 trips to KidsQuest Museum
• Road trip to Cama Beach State Park
• Road trip to Eastern Washington
• Splash park shenanigans
• Weekly lunch dates (with tot-in-tow) with mom friends
• Puyallup Fair
• barbecues with the grandparents
• splashing in our backyard ‘pool’
• endless bubble blowing excursions
• lunch dates to Panera
• driving around listening to Macklemore to get Potamus to take a nap

I mean, the list could go on and on. Where I failed, in my grumpy attitude toward my husband, and resenting him working 3 jobs, I also excelled in rolling with the punches in a lot of cases I re-defined my identity as a summertime-stay-at-home-mom, and am now back to work, and I will miss out on certain aspects of life with Potamus, but I will also gain a lot, as well. I’m trying to focus on what I did, the moments we snuggled, and the experiences of him hugging me voluntarily for the first time, how I’ve really gotten to see him develop into a funny little person with a personality as big as the moon, and a sense of humor to rival any tv comedian. It was a good summer. Yes it was hard, but, like labor, I remember all the good parts, all the love I felt, in betwen all the sandwich making, diaper changing, tantrum avoiding messes. In wistful moments I think of how much of a sweet baby he was at the beginning of the summer, and how a ‘short’ three months has turned him in to quite the ‘little man’ toddler. Sigh. Those hugs he gives me, though…I mean, that’s gold.

How have you helped yourself navigate tricky transitions? Tips for staying sane?

Holiday Fallout

Who’s brilliant idea was it to take these lovely vacations that would mean missing daycare? Sigh. While my parents were the actual instigators (reserving the cabins without asking me, first), I figured that Potamus had a few vacation days (free week off from daycare without paying) to use up, so we might as well miss some days. He only goes on Monday/Wednesdays, so I figured it’d be no big deal, right?

Can I just tell you, that there is NOTHING that prepared me for the sadness of coming across my itty bitty boy standing in the middle of the playground with his friends, crying. Snot-nosed, bawling, with all these happy friendly other kids around. The ten days without daycare has left him, both days this week very sad, with the teachers saying “he cried most of the day.”

Break my heart in a million pieces why don’t you?

I mean, typically he’s happy when I go to pick him up, and only starts crying when he sees me. One teacher, who was subbing in (she used to work with him in the infant room), said “I’ve never seen him this sad all day since he first started.” Again, knife in the heart. Clearly the transition back to school is going to be harder after vacation than I thought…and I’m trying to just chalk it up to ‘lessons learned,’ but I feel so bad about him being separated from me for 8 hours…especially when I KNOW that I could actually be watching him…sigh…mama guilt…

Daycare Drama

First day in his new big-boy classroom!

At every turn in my parenting adventure I am surprised with how laid back or relaxed I am about parenting the sweet Potamus. In so many ways there is this sweet understanding between the two of us, where I anticipate his needs and we have a great time. He cries and is demanding and tantrummy and I have said ‘shut up!’ before, but for the most part, I have surprised myself with my lack of severe black/white rigidity that I had anticipated as a parent. In that way, I am nothing like my mother. I have boundaries and we have a routine, but it’s loose and can change and is more about preserving love and happiness than simply doing something “because I said so damnit.”

But nowhere more does my mama guilt or feelings of inadquecy rise like dealing with daycare. Now, don’t get me wrong, I really like his daycare. The teachers, for the most part, have been really sweet and helpful and have taken good care of my sweet boy. But there are comments and issues that arise that have made me question my parenting skills, my child’s adjustment, labels and make me freaked out about the future, since it will only intensify as he begins school and the rest of his life, right?

Potamus is still struggling to eat at daycare. Since we’ve stopped sending yogurt he has gone hungry (though it’s been the equivalent of 3 days, so I’m not super worried…yet). He naps and seems happy when we get home and isn’t STARVING right away, so I’m sure he’s not lacking the nutrition he needs. But it makes me worried, because mamas want their kiddos to eat, and the daycare workers keep saying things like “he doesn’t eat. this is something he’ll have to practice at home.” I start to second guess myself, though MY KID EATS AT HOME! Tortellini, ravioli, broccoli, blueberries, mandarin oranges, cauliflower, peanut butter crackers/toast, rice/beans, french fries, pizza, chicken tenders, crackers, freeze dried bananas, yogurt, banana/egg pancakes are all things he will eat pretty consistently. Not sure why he won’t eat anything at daycare…sigh…

Last week they informed me that he will be moving up to his big-boy classroom (yay! out of the infant room! with kids his own age! less money!), and on Monday his teachers took him over there to get settled. He did AMAZING. He didn’t cry and he napped like a champ, and besides the not eating issue, he was so well adjusted. Today’s morning drop-off, though, was less than happy. Not knowing the routine yet, I had to fill out some paperwork and then we went back to the class, and I made a BIG mistake. He was crying, teacher scooped him up and distracted him, and it was all calm and so, before I left, I peeked my head back in the window and BAM eye contact and hysterical crying all over again. In the almost-6-months of daycare I haven’t made that mistake, but for some reason, today, I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to see him be fine, and I probably ruined it for him for awhile. Sad times.

I don’t knwo why I just feel so…off…in my parenting as it relates to the daycare. I feel like a terrible mom for forgetting shoes on Monday, though I didn’t know he was going to need them (since they don’t need them in the infant room) or a crib sheet (again, since they don’t use them in the infant room). These were things that I DIDN’T KNOW, and yet felt bad about. Or feeling bad that my kid will, probably, go hungry today and be labelled a “picky eater” at school and that might affect his development or peer relationships and then I start to spiral downward and think that my kid is going to end up in some freaking special education class drooling on himself because he doesn’t eat their oatmeal.

Boof says to stop worrying about it. He says that it is THEIR job to get him to eat at school and THEIR job to inform us of changes and policies. I get that. My logical brain says, “no sweat,” to dealing with daycare expectations. Talking with my other career-loving mom friends, daycare drop-offs are hard for them, too…and they too feel judged. One said, “it’s like they think they could parent better than me. sometimes I wish they would.” Preach it sista!

So, in theory I GET IT…but, let’s be honest, I still FEEL guilty. Maybe it’s not daycare, maybe it’s something else, so: how do YOU get rid of the mommy guilt?

Daycare/School Day #1

I managed to wait unti 3pm to call and check-in on Potamus at daycare/school. Boof called at 10:30 and gave me a text report that eased my mind enough to get back to my crazy first-day-back-to-work. Why the college decided to have the first day back to work be the first day that students start class, too, is beyond me. But hey, we’re surviving!

When I went to pick him up he seemed surprised, but was happily munching on cheerios in his high chair. He didn’t seem abnormally clingy, and didn’t protest when I nursed him and then popped him in the carseat for our ride home. Once home we played and he seemed SO happy, even “Bollywood” dancing in his bedroom and reading lots of stories. I’m hoping that school is a good place for my extroverted little chap!

And I didn’t cry. I am sure he’ll have cranky sad days, but overall it made me feel so good that he was only sad for about 15 minutes in the morning, and did amazing at naptime (2.5 hours on his mat!). Go Potamus!

Share this:

I taught my last lecture on Thursday, and this upcoming week will be filled with watching our students’ final presentations. Should be easy-peasy and then off for the month of December. Looking forward to that with much anticipation. I have play-dates (for both mama AND baby) lined up, a trip across the mountains for Christmas, and plenty of just chill moments with our little family before I go back, and in anticipation of Boof going back (at the end of January).

With all of this joy and happiness coming up, why do I feel so dark? The days are darker. My nights are even darker, though, hallelujah Potamus slept for 4 hours straight last night. My anxiety is high, too, mostly around this whole idea of sending Potamus to daycare 2 days a week. I am freaking out about the drive (which route to commute to cut down on time), and the transition, all of the things that can go wrong while he’s gone from me for 10 hours a day, and knowing that soon Boof will be back to work during the tax busy season and that means only seeing him on Sundays. Which means, me working full-time and parenting full-time, alone…

When I’m in this head-space I begin to freak out. FREAK out. Like eat 3 boxes of Trader Joe’s freak out. And try not to break things freak out. Trying to stop imagining Potamus languishing in a Romanian orphanage instead of the hand-picked daycare that we chose. Trying to remember that who he will be as a 12 month old, or a 13  month old, will be different than right now, and he will be able to handle things differently.

I have been trying the herbal homeopathic way of dealing with this clear depression/anxiety. The 5HTP and St. John’s Wort was working, and then I started to forget to take it and I had another bout of extreme irritability. I am worried that it means I’m going to have to go back in to the doctor and get prescribed anti-depressants. It’s not the medicine that I am worried about, because the meds I use are fabulous and wish I could just keep the prescription re-filled again and again..it’s my doctor. It’s not that she’s bad. She’s just a little…cold? She has really tiny limp cold hands and doesn’t seem very personal, though she’s nice and polite and asks all the right questions. Boof thinks I should change doctors, but I am too overwhelmed to think about forming a new relationship with someone.

And this has been the first day in over 10 that I’ve been able to even form words to describe all the nonsense going on inside me. Instead I’ve been glowering and stomping around and trying not to cry. Boof and I have had some good talks, but then I decompensate and am unable to communicate again. Like writer’s block, except it’s my life. I think that November, and writing about adoption every day, was really hard and triggering for me, and added to my depression. We’ll see if I decide to do that again, or modify it so that I don’t completely fall apart.