In Touchpoints, Dr. Brazelton says that when your baby does something, say pulls up on the TV and gets ready to mash the buttons, and then turns around to look at you, that s/he is looking for discipline. “Is this okay, Mommy? Are you going to do anything about it, Mommy?”

I have this plant. It’s a peace lily plant. I don’t love it, because it’s a funeral plant. I got it at my grandma’s funeral, so every time I look at it, I think “dead grandma plant”. But it was sent by 3 of my friends, who did what they thought was appropriate for a funeral, and I know it was done with love, so I keep it. I’ve also watched this plant dry up and almost die, I’ve cut all the leaves off but one, and have watched it grow back into an actual live plant. I’ve moved the damn thing across country and now I’m perversely attached to it just enough that I will throw my baby out the second story window if he tries to destroy it.

We were in the room where the plant lives, I was working on a closet and tossing Alex random things to play with that seemed to be non choking hazards. I look over and he’s crawling towards the plant and is now grabbing a green leaf in his little destructo boy hand.

“Alex, no.” I warn.

He looks at me, continues to grab at leaf, I get off the floor, move him back across the room and give him a sharp, pointy object to play with.

A few minutes later, he’s back at the plant again.

“Alex! NO!” I command him.

He looks at me, continues to grab at leaf, I get off the floor, move him back across the room and give him a pile of broken glass to play with.

A few minutes later, he’s almost back at the plant again.

“Alexander, NO!” I roar out in teacher voice.

He looks at me. He doesn’t leave the plant, but he doesn’t eat the plant. I get off the floor, move him back across the room and give him some arsenic to play with.

A few minutes later, he’s almost back at the plant again.

“ALEXANDER-NO! YOU DO NOT PLAY WITH THE PLANT! NO! NO! NO!”

He looks at me, he looks at the plant. I look in the closet so I can laugh for just a moment at how perplexed he is. I look back at him, I make mean face. I get off the floor, move him back across the room and give him the cat to play with.

A few minutes later, he takes two crawls toward the plant, then looks at me. I look at him, he whimpers and looks at the plant. He takes two crawls toward the plant then looks at me. “Alex. No.” He whimpers again. The looks at the plant, seductively calling his name. “Alex, just this once, here, this touch is free, c’mon …” He looks at me, whimpers some more and falters toward the plant again.

I get up, go to the opposite side of the room and smile and call his name. “Alex, baby, come here, come see Mommy.”

He eases toward the plant, whimpering. He looks at me, waiting for my reaction. “Oh, Mommy, I want to be a good boy, but the plant is so, so, tempting, I’m trying to resist, but the plant smells like boobie milk and cookies and I just, I just, want … Oh Mommy.”

He reaches the plant, I continue to encourage him to come to me. Then suddenly, the plant quits pushing it’s green leafy wares on my gentle boy, he smiles and comes crawling to me. I scoop him up in my arms and tell him how proud I am of him for listening to me, for doing what I asked him to do, even when it was hard. I hug and kiss him and pray for many more teaching opportunities to go as well as this one did.

(pasted from email sent to my girlfriends)

Now here’s the funny story of the week.

Still haven’t, y’know, done the deed. Just couldn’t do it when his mom was in the house. Now just can’t do it because I just can’t get in the mood when always listening for Kaiser to pipe up. Hubs is feeling all neglected and blah blah. Stressed. You know boys. Boy parts must be attended to or they don’t feel loved. So Scout really feels unloved.

So. Anyway. I call a friend who lives 3 hours away. Flat out ask her “so if we drive to see you will you take care of the baby for a couple hours so my hubs and I can have the sex?” She says absolultely and thinks it’s somewhere between sad and funny that we have to drive 3 hours to find a babysitter.

So. Tomorrow after closing I will put Scout and Alex in the car and start driving. Haven’t told Scout we’re going away for the night. Have room reserved someplace with a king bed, whirlpool and river view.

Now clearly need contraception and assistive materials for this venture what with the I don’t want to get pregnant ever again and I’ve already had two periods since Alex was born (it figures, not supposed to have a period while breastfeeding – so now my regularity is irregular. Can’t win). I know I’ve seen a Priscillas in town but I can’t remember where. The GPS doesn’t list and I can’t find it in the phone book. (The phone book has an entire page of “escort services” but nothing under ‘sex’, ‘erotic’ or ‘intimate’). So I end up at walgreens and I get some Durex pleasure pack with 3 condoms, 3 different lubes (I detest the word “lube” but can’t think of a euphemism), and a … vibrating condom ring. I figured what the hell right? So for 12 bucks I have this naughty little box in my right hand … and my innocent baby on my left arm. I go to check out and to my horror both registers are run by high school boys. I turn around and go to the pharmacy where I get waited on by a very pregnant woman who smiled and laughed when I turned bright red and said “thank you for not making me have my condoms rang up by a high school boy!”

postscript

So today on the way to the house closing we pull off the highway. and there sits Priscilla’s. I’d been just south on the other side of the highway TWICE yesterday.

Today was shot day.

Not an easy choice. I’ve worked with students who have documented adverse reactions to immunizations. I’ve been to the funeral of a 9 year old who had PDD and seizures as related to her immunizations (Dept of Health and Human Services agrees with this statement to the tune of enough money that the family could afford to care for their daughter with round the clock in home care and tutors). Scout’s job predecessor has a son who was developmentally normal until a week after his second round of shots and he’s been exhibiting PDD/ASD traits ever since.

And I *know* there’s not supposed to be an autism/vaccine link. I know this. However. In my tiny tiny sample size, I know that when there were preexisting conditions of neurology or prematurity or general “not normalness” that adverse reactions have happened.

It’s difficult to find good information about it too. Everyone has a very strong bias, indicating that you will harm your baby no matter which choice you make.

I wanted to be able to follow the CDC schedule. I wanted to have no questions. I also wanted the sick feeling in my gut to go away when I thought about it. I wanted my mommy lion intuition to quit going off and just let me follow the damn schedule no questions asked.

I spent two years before Alex was even born struggling with this issue.

My opinion boils down to this: I think it’s a lot to ask a little body that is learning how to eat, sleep, poop, move and communicate to also fight off diseases stuck directly into his little body.

I wish I could find solid information on WHY the CDC recommends the schedule they do. I found stuff on HepB and based on that, we decided to pass on it for now (Scout and I have both been vaccinated, my tests came back negative, we believe we can limit Alex’s exposure to drug needles and infected semen for a few years (and if not, then our family has issues the vaccine will not cure.))

We didn’t start shots till today – 4 months – rather than 2 months. This was really based on we were driving cross country at 8 weeks, and regardless of big picture outcome, we just couldn’t put the baby and ourselves through one more thing at that point. No one wants to not feel good on a long drive, and that drive was hard enough on us all anyway. This way all of our records would be in the same doctor’s office as well. Our insurance cards didn’t show up till 3 months, and it took me another week to call the ped to make the appointment and they just put it off till 4 months.

Today we did the HiB and PCV (Prevnar). Here is why:

Our 1st ped (who we loved and adored) said that when he was in his residency that he tested for meningitis in the ER so often that he could do the spinal tap in the dark with his eyes closed b/c he did several per night, every third night (when he was on call). He said that it’s just the worst feeling in the world to pull out a syringe of pus because you just know how bad this could get for the family. Now that the vaccines are in place (roughly 15 years later) he told us that ped residents fight over the spinal taps b/c they know they need the experience. The cases of meningitis have drastically shrunk, according to what he’s seen. I liked this anecdote, and it was more meaningful to us than statistics. Our ped today was of the same era and felt the same way about what she’s seen. Said she can still vividly picture the first case of meningitis she diagnosed. So. HiB and PCV it was. She said HiB has virtually no side effects and PCV is 1/4 with some fever etc. She would prefer to do all the vaccines on schedule, but was supportive of this b/c while you don’t really see DTaP or Polio, you DO still see meningitis, so there’s more of a sense of urgency to do these vaccines.

We will do this modified CDC immunization schedule:

HiB and PCV (Prevnar) at months 4, 6, and 8

DTaP and Polio at months 5, 7, and 9

This will put us on schedule by month 9.

We didn’t have to make a decision about the Rotavirus (Rotatec) because he’s already too old for it. (Which I totally didn’t realize before we went to the ped today).

For the record, I think vaccines are a God send. My grandma had Polio on her 9th birthday, and spent the rest of her life with one foot smaller than the other and weaker on one side of her body. She also suffered from some post Polio syndrome problems when she was much much older. I am grateful for Salk vaccines and such. I just question why we need to pump them into tiny ones when the threat of the specific disease is less – wouldn’t we be just as safe from Diphtheria and Whooping Cough doing them at age one or two? I don’t know the answer to this, and I’m going to go ahead and do the vaccines close to on time anyway, but I still wonder ….

If Alex were a formula fed baby in full time day care, our vaccination choices would be the to the letter of the CDC schedule, but as I am spending hours a day pumpin’ the mammar-ade and he’s home with me all day, and I’m doing an okay job of eating a decent diet of food to siphon through to him in milk, we believe we are supporting his little immune system pretty well, and the vaccines are another tool to keep him healthy.

And as for today. Kaiser Alex was a real brave champ. He voiced his displeasure of the whole shot thing, but nothing like meltdowns we’ve seen. We’re 4 hours post vac and one dose of Ty1eno1 in and so far so good. He’s even taking a little nap!

Uh, yeah. The one this blog is titled for. Him. The one I haven’t actually talked about for a while.

He’s great. I dropped my basket on Tuesday morning b/c I’d had no sleep (I stayed up too late talking to Mrs. NOT Tater, then he woke up every hour-two hours doing kick/bicycle legs all night) and Alex woke officially at seven and was in-con-solable. Oh and Scout was out of town. I broke down sobbing, the scary sobbing, the “I didn’t know sounds like that could come from my throat” sobbing. The cat even crawled up on me and let me sob into her fur while I rocked Alex and repeated “I don’t know what you WANT”.

Somewhere in there I threw my cell phone against the wall. I’d tried to call Scout to … I don’t even know what … and the call failed … so I threw the phone … because phones do not merit CPS/DFS visits. It now has some lovely yellow paint permanently embedded in it from where it hit the wall.

After that, I picked up my basket and put my shit back in it – all together again. I put Alex on his back on the bed next to me (because he was finally chill enough to hang out OUT of my arms) and I curled up next to him with my eyes closed. He was still just as active, but now that I had given up any hope of a REM cycle – ever again – I was okay with his activity. I opened my eyes and he was on his tummy. Strange. That’s not how I left him. I rolled him on his back and closed my eyes again. Yet again when I opened them, he was on his tummy.

So. He wasn’t really trying to kill me with lack of sleep, he was just too busy trying to accomplish a major milestone to want to sleep.

Week 14 has brought a baby who can play tummy time in front of DVRd Sesame Street for almost an entire episode – allowing me to get some basic cleaning of the kitchen and feeding of the self accomplished. Guilt free even because, Hello! Tummy time!

He sits in his big boy chair at the table and makes chewing faces while watching Scout and I eat our solids.

He can hold things, spoons (Scout hadn’t licked off the chocolate – Alex got the chocolate ALL over himself. Good boy. Mom’s boy.), CD cases, sharpened pencils (Scout again, he retrieved the pencil quickly), mom’s face, dad’s hands, and yes, yes, he’s found his package – grabbing on for a little self massage of his own during baby massage class today.

He’s trying like mad to get up on his knees and hands. That fun precrawling stage that is a warning that we’d better get finished unpacking SOON.

He stands all the time while holding our fingers. People are starting to comment on this – on how ready to get going he is. Again, we’d better get finished unpacking SOON. (Blogging at 130 am after an evening cuppa coffee is clearly helping this cause not at all.)

He looks at me and seems wise. Like he’s calling me on my shit and loves me anyway.

He’s a little bigger now. Amazing what 9 weeks will do.

or just tired of typing with one hand.

I’m cleared for takeoff after my appt on Wed. Now if I could just have hubs to myself….

Alex weighs 12 pounds 6 ounces and is 24 inches long.

I rolled him from back to front today and rolled right to his back again.

Sara blogged about the Sara of 10 years ago. Which made me think about the Dawn of 11 years ago today.

11 Years ago just about right now I was at a rehearsal for a wedding. I was in a black crop sweater with red trim and buttons. I was in a denim skort. I was wearing the Mia fisherman sandals for chicks that everyone owned that summer. I was paired with a groomsman who I’d met several times before. He walked me down the aisle. He was tall. We chatted. He was fun. He hit on one of the other bridesmaids.

I was at the end of a really… uh… growth oriented year. Carrie always said college was where you pushed the envelope to see what you were actually comfortable with. And I’d been pushing. Tossing off my virginity to the right guy who had the wrong marital status, one night stand with a friend. I’d pushed the envelope all I wanted to. I was done. I’d wrapped up the relationship with “right guy/wrong status” the weekend before. Telling him I loved him, him telling me he loved me. But finally kissing him goodbye. I’d spent the last week completely alone and with many hours praying. I’d finally felt forgiven and like I’d forgiven myself. I’d told God I was done with Mr. Right Now and I was SO ready to be alone until Mr. Right came along. I was ready to be alone.

I spent that night with the girls, we watched Steel Magnolias, we cried, we slept. We got up the next morning and did the whole hair salon/makeup blah blah. Gussied up in the dresses, at the church. Wedding. Exchanging wedding rings. Limo ride. A bunch of young 20s getting really shitfaced really fast. Lots of lewd comments with my groomsman about handcuffs and his occupation (all this after grabbing his piece unexpectedly as we were taking a picture (not his man piece… his other man piece).

Somewhere in the alcoholic haze of that night I fell. Hard. I ended up in a hotel room with him. I was thinking OMGWTF am I doing? I just forgave myself for this exact kind of shit. WHAT am I doing putting myself back in this situation? Clearly I was insane.

He came out of the bathroom and over to the bed where I was laying on my stomach. Here we go. What was I going to do? How bad was this situation going to get?

He sat by me and rubbed my shoulders and my back. And I, of the experienced backrub as foreplay kind of thinking, could tell that this was just a backrub. This wasn’t going to turn into seedy hotel sex that I’d feel really bad about when the sun came up.

I did kiss him a whole lot that night. Lots and lots.

And lots.

We swapped numbers and I called him a few days later expecting to have a really stilted conversation and getting off the phone with relief that I’d never really have to see him again. But a girl has to try.

Three hours or so later we were still on the phone.

Finally a man I could actually talk to.

11 years ago I was standing on the edge of a whole lot of stuff.

Today I’m here:
All wrapped up with the little man who is the son of the man I fell for 11 years ago tomorrow.

Thanks Sara for the prompt to make me look back.

Today Alex didn’t open his eyes for long until 115. Then he had 5 hours of awake time from then until 830. What a stud. Hopefully he sleeps tonight.

Popped in Baby Einstein today, and he got all vocal – lots of cooing, which he did again later without the BE to prompt conversation. Aw, little man finding his voice. Yay!