Mother Hoodwink

I knew this would happen.

Gavin at three and a half months:

Look at that hair! You could use real hair ties in that hair, not those barrettes that have velcro on them so they stick to a baby's head.

Now Maggie at three and a half months:

It figures Gavin would have more hair as a baby since I couldn't put pretty bows in his hair. Don't get me wrong, she's still a cutie. I just want to put pretty bows in her hair. By the time she'll have long enough hair, she'll probably realize that she wants to be a Tomboy and won't want anything to do with bows and dresses.

I don't know what to title this.

When Gavin started solids I got a touch of depression. Not much, but enough for me to notice. When Gavin was eleven months old, I gave him his first cup of cow's milk. Breastfeeding pretty much ended there. He obviously liked it way more than my milk. He wasn't nursing for nutrition anymore but for comfort every night before bed. Our nursing sessions got shorter and shorter to the point where all he wanted to do was cuddle.

Postpartum depression then came full blast. I was a mess. I could not get my act together and it was pissing me off. At the time I had no idea I was having postpartum depression. I thought it was regular old depression. I didn't have the wherewithal to realize that when I stopped producing milk, my hormone levels would change dramatically thus causing postpartum depression.

I thought I wouldn't have any depression. All the books say at about two weeks postpartum, you might get the "baby blues" and if they last longer than to see a doctor. I practically got through the first year without any depression. I have a theory that if you're breastfeeding, you won't get the baby blues two weeks after birth. Two weeks seems just the right amount of time to stop producing milk after a birth which is why mothers who formula feed would get the depression then. I could completely wrong with my theory, but it makes sense to me.

My depression was not dangerous, just obnoxious. I didn't want to hurt myself or anyone else, just sit inside all day and not move from the couch. I hated the way I felt and was so angry at myself for not being able to snap the fuck out of it. I've always been a mind over matter type person. I couldn't convince myself to do anything. Nothing. I took good care of Gavin but if it didn't involve him, I was out.

I didn't want to get any drugs because I figured that in itself would be a huge pain in the ass. Figuring out which drug is right for you then figuring out which dose fits you best. That could take months and in the interim make me feel even worse. Luckily all of this depression crap only lasted two months. Right after it had ended I found out I was pregnant with Maggie. As happy as I was to have another baby, I was terrified of going through this again.

Maggie will be four months old tomorrow. She can start cereal but I'm cautious. I thought maybe I could wait another month or two before I start her on solids but I'm afraid it's just stalling the inevitable. I hope I don't  go through this again. I'm scared but this time willing to find a drug that helps me if I need it.

Maybe it's 15 pounds in hair.

I'm frustrated with my body. I am not losing weight as fast as I did after having Gavin. Maggie will be four months old next week. When Gavin was four months old, I was a size smaller than I was pre-pregnancy. I have fifteen pounds left to go before I can wear my jeans comfortably. They fit but they look horrible. Muffin top galore.

I need to stop comparing postpartum weight losses. I'm too hung up on it and it's depressing me.

I heard recently that you should give yourself at least nine months to get your old body back since that's how long it took to get it at it's largest state. I just feel like I've plateaued though. I've been fifteen pounds over for about a month now. I'm sure I'll lose it within the next five months, but I want it gone now damn it! I have nothing to wear!

I refuse to buy too many larger sizes. I've bought a pair of shorts for the summer and that's it. (I don't need bigger shirts since my boobage has always forced me to buy larger anyway.) I don't want to get too comfortable so I'm not going to make it easier on myself and buy a bunch of clothes that are bigger than I normally buy.

As if the extra weight wasn't enough, I'm dealing with postpartum hair loss. I forgot just how annoying this was. I have to make sure I brush my hair for a good five-ten minutes before I get in the shower or else I'll clog the drain.

I remember after I had Gavin, I had no idea this happened after a pregnancy. I freaked out. I thought I was going bald because the amount of hair a woman can lose after pregnancy is mind boggling. Knowing how much comes out when I brush my hair for a few minutes, I'm surprised I have any hair at all.

Hopefully by Maggie's first birthday I'll be at least fifteen pounds lighter and have a normal amount of hair.

Finally!!

This past Friday Gavin all of a sudden decided he wanted to pee in the potty. We have never really started training him. We only have him try every night before his bath. Basically, I've been too lazy to get a routine going.

Gavin and Maggie were sitting with me in the rocker and Maggie started to poop, Gavin looked at her and I said, "Maggie is going poo-poo, huh?" He patted his privates and said, "Pee-pee." I asked if he wanted to try to go pee on his potty and he said, "OK." and ran to the bathroom. I gave him some books to read while he tried and about ten minutes later, there was pee in his potty and he was reaching for the soap and trying to wash his hands.

When I congratulated him he had the most prideful look I had ever seen on a human. I feel bad because the only candy I had to give him as a reward, was old Valentine conversation hearts. He enjoyed it though. We are now fully stocked with M&M's.

He didn't want to try at all yesterday but it's cool. I'm just glad we've had at least one success. Now that I know he can go, I ask him constantly if he wants to. He either changes the subject or agrees only for me to find out that he already went in his diaper. Hopefully, he'll get the hang of this soon so we can cut our $80 a month diaper budget in half.

See, TV is good.

As a mother I think I do an ok job. I'm not horrible but I could be better. The thing that makes me feel like the shittiest mother is when Gavin says something and I have no idea where he learned it.

For instance the other day, I went into Gavin's room to get him from his nap and he had woken up in a happy mood. He started jumping and said, "I jump high!" I didn't know he knew what "high" meant. I figured Dim had taught him. I asked if he could jump low and he squatted down and jumped. I was pretty amazed but still thought Dim had taught him. I asked Dim when he got home that day and he said he has never talked about high and low with Gavin.

Or the time he would say the words "open" and "ball" and do a hand signal with them. I looked it up and realized he was signing them. We've never taught him any sign language. Where the hell did he learn this? The only answer we have is TV.

Something like this happens almost everyday. Gavin will say or do something and we are flabbergasted that he knows this new thing. He only watches four TV shows ever. Blue's Clues, The Backyardigans, Yo Gabba Gabba and Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. He only watches one or two a day and sometimes none. These shows are doing my job. I feel bad about that. But I figure if they're teaching him stuff, then it can't hurt, right? I'm now looking for a DVD that is a loop of little boys using the toilet. (Which probably doesn't exist since it sounds like a pedophilia dream tape.) I might as well use his willingness to learn from the TV to my advantage. Because I am so freaking sick of offensive toddler diapers. Especially first thing in the morning when my gag reflex is in full swing.