Stupid goddamn f&#$(* germs. Got a call from daycare this afternoon letting me know that Roo had a temp of 101.5. I knew this would happen. He woke up crabby, would barely eat any breakfast, and wouldn't let me put him down all morning. I'd taken the morning off so I could take him to his scheduled checkup at the pediatrician's office (for his ears and lungs -- see last week's posts). Of course, his ears and lungs were just fine, but the doctor told me his throat looked red. Great.
So today (my birthday, by the way), I had a supremely cranky, feverish child. He took one or two bites of his supper and then started screaming (I guess his throat hurts), so we skipped the bath and I put him straight to bed. I had company at (grownup) dinnertime, and then I still had to take out the trash and recycling afterwards. I'm so goddamn sick of these goddamn germs. I've said it before: I can deal with all of this WHEN HE'S NOT SICK. When he's sick, though, it just sends me over the edge. I'm supposed to be PACKING FOR VACATION, not constantly holding/nursing/soothing a poor little sick kid, like it seems I'm doing every week or so these days. And I just hate seeing him sick in general. He's so sad and pathetic. I hope he sleeps well tonight and can beat this bug quickly.
Frigging ARRRHRHRHRHGHGGGGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Sunday, August 17, 2008
It's Baaaaaack......(this might explain it!)
So, after nearly 18 months on hiatus (during my pregnancy and the first 8.5 months of Andrew's life), it's back. I'm sure you can guess what "it" is. How exciting!
And according to kellymom.com, a site that I've found to have incredibly helpful and accurate information about breastfeeding and its associated problems and complications,
"Some women experience a drop in milk supply from ovulation (mid-cycle) until the first day or two of the next menstrual period. A woman's blood calcium levels gradually decrease during this period of time, and for some women the drop in blood calcium causes a drop in milk supply."
Well, there we (may) have it. I thought that I might have been ovulating about a week and a half ago (sorry if TMI), and that just about corresponds to the dip in my milk supply. I did call the lactation consultant on Friday, and she very nicely called me back and suggested a "pumping/nursing every three hours weekend," plus fenugreek pills/tea. I was able to manage the pumping and nursing, but we just didn't get to the health food store for the fenugreek. I do have some Mother's Milk organic tea bags in my office, so I'll make some tea tomorrow at work. I've also read that oatmeal helps increase milk supply, so what the hell -- maybe that's what I'll have for dinner tomorrow. And I'll toss a couple of granola bars in my bag, too.
With Dad's help this weekend (he and Roo got LOTS of quality time to play together), I was able to pump enough to get the freezer stash up to two bags! If I go back to pumping three times a day at work, along with all of the other measures I'm taking, I may be able to stick with the boob juice-only thing!
Roo MAY have said "Da" in the high chair at lunch today. Three times. In a row. Right after Dad said "dadada" to him. Coincidence? Or genius child??? ;-)
The maid starts on Tuesday; after that, she/he/they will visit every other week on Wednesdays. I can't begin to express how thrilled I am about this. This weekend I spent as much time as possible clearing (not cleaning) off surfaces to make it easier for them to get my house spotless. Just the thought of bathing Andrew in a sparkling clean tub gives me goosebumps of pleasure. There isn't going to be dog hair (and who knows what else) stuck to the base of my toilet. This is really, really big.
I must say that the return of my "monthlies" threw me for a bit of a loop. It's just one more step in the evolution of our mother-child relationship. It means that he's independent enough from me (well, my breasts anyway) that I'm now able to produce another baby. These days it seems like it's all happening so fast: sitting, then crawling, then standing -- soon, walking. Transferring his clothes to the dryer tonight, I remarked to myself how the sleeves and pantlegs of the clothes that fit him just keep getting bigger and longer. I keep one of his "newborn" size diapers in his sock drawer, just to remind me of how tiny he was when he was born. And oh, how tiny he was. And my goodness, how big he is getting!
I have to say that folks have been very helpful and supportive, via email, in person, and through comments on this blog, about my milk-supply quandary. Thank you! I think I'd really like to see a long-term study of breastfed-only infants and formula-fed-only infants in daycare from a young age, just to see how many illnesses each group gets, and how long those illnesses last. I'm convinced that daycare is the major factor in Andrew's illnesses here...and I must say, knock on wood, that he hasn't been terribly sick, or even that frequently. But like I've said before, I'd been led to believe that the boobie juice was a cure-all. I'm also convinced that the majority of mothers who only breastfeed (i.e. never have to use formula) are also stay-at-home moms, or moms whose kids aren't in large-group daycare. So, of course those kids (and their immature immune systems) aren't going to be exposed to every germ that passes through the center. My mom tells me that I didn't go to a babysitter until I was 9 months old, and that I was rarely sick and never had an ear infection in my life -- and I was formula-fed. And let me tell you, there are a lot of illnesses that can take hold in winter in rural Maine...but I wasn't in group daycare.
I dunno. Maybe I'm just assuaging my mommy-guilt that I've "allowed" Roo to get sick even these admittedly few times. I've got to stop that whole guilt thing. After all, we do have a wonderful, bright, very smiley, standing-on-his-own, chirpy and recently very talkative little man! I've got to start focusing on what we're doing right :-)
And according to kellymom.com, a site that I've found to have incredibly helpful and accurate information about breastfeeding and its associated problems and complications,
"Some women experience a drop in milk supply from ovulation (mid-cycle) until the first day or two of the next menstrual period. A woman's blood calcium levels gradually decrease during this period of time, and for some women the drop in blood calcium causes a drop in milk supply."
Well, there we (may) have it. I thought that I might have been ovulating about a week and a half ago (sorry if TMI), and that just about corresponds to the dip in my milk supply. I did call the lactation consultant on Friday, and she very nicely called me back and suggested a "pumping/nursing every three hours weekend," plus fenugreek pills/tea. I was able to manage the pumping and nursing, but we just didn't get to the health food store for the fenugreek. I do have some Mother's Milk organic tea bags in my office, so I'll make some tea tomorrow at work. I've also read that oatmeal helps increase milk supply, so what the hell -- maybe that's what I'll have for dinner tomorrow. And I'll toss a couple of granola bars in my bag, too.
With Dad's help this weekend (he and Roo got LOTS of quality time to play together), I was able to pump enough to get the freezer stash up to two bags! If I go back to pumping three times a day at work, along with all of the other measures I'm taking, I may be able to stick with the boob juice-only thing!
Roo MAY have said "Da" in the high chair at lunch today. Three times. In a row. Right after Dad said "dadada" to him. Coincidence? Or genius child??? ;-)
The maid starts on Tuesday; after that, she/he/they will visit every other week on Wednesdays. I can't begin to express how thrilled I am about this. This weekend I spent as much time as possible clearing (not cleaning) off surfaces to make it easier for them to get my house spotless. Just the thought of bathing Andrew in a sparkling clean tub gives me goosebumps of pleasure. There isn't going to be dog hair (and who knows what else) stuck to the base of my toilet. This is really, really big.
I must say that the return of my "monthlies" threw me for a bit of a loop. It's just one more step in the evolution of our mother-child relationship. It means that he's independent enough from me (well, my breasts anyway) that I'm now able to produce another baby. These days it seems like it's all happening so fast: sitting, then crawling, then standing -- soon, walking. Transferring his clothes to the dryer tonight, I remarked to myself how the sleeves and pantlegs of the clothes that fit him just keep getting bigger and longer. I keep one of his "newborn" size diapers in his sock drawer, just to remind me of how tiny he was when he was born. And oh, how tiny he was. And my goodness, how big he is getting!
I have to say that folks have been very helpful and supportive, via email, in person, and through comments on this blog, about my milk-supply quandary. Thank you! I think I'd really like to see a long-term study of breastfed-only infants and formula-fed-only infants in daycare from a young age, just to see how many illnesses each group gets, and how long those illnesses last. I'm convinced that daycare is the major factor in Andrew's illnesses here...and I must say, knock on wood, that he hasn't been terribly sick, or even that frequently. But like I've said before, I'd been led to believe that the boobie juice was a cure-all. I'm also convinced that the majority of mothers who only breastfeed (i.e. never have to use formula) are also stay-at-home moms, or moms whose kids aren't in large-group daycare. So, of course those kids (and their immature immune systems) aren't going to be exposed to every germ that passes through the center. My mom tells me that I didn't go to a babysitter until I was 9 months old, and that I was rarely sick and never had an ear infection in my life -- and I was formula-fed. And let me tell you, there are a lot of illnesses that can take hold in winter in rural Maine...but I wasn't in group daycare.
I dunno. Maybe I'm just assuaging my mommy-guilt that I've "allowed" Roo to get sick even these admittedly few times. I've got to stop that whole guilt thing. After all, we do have a wonderful, bright, very smiley, standing-on-his-own, chirpy and recently very talkative little man! I've got to start focusing on what we're doing right :-)
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Better Baby; Achy Breaky Boobs
Andrew seems to be feeling better, now that he's been on antibiotics for the ear infection and meds for his breathing. The pediatrician said his ears look great, actually, when we visited this morning. Plus he said his breathing sounds better and that he's not "pulling" his chest muscles anymore. We can now back off to using the Albuterol/Pulmicort in the nebulizer only a couple of times a day, and we'll go back to see the pediatrician next Wednesday, at which point I hope we can stop the meds altogether.
Tonight is the closest I've come in a LONG time to giving in on the breastmilk-only versus supplementing-with-formula thing. A couple of things precipitated this:
1. Last week, a new lunch-coverage person began work at Andrew's daycare and mistakenly gave him someone else's bottle. Of formula. He was fine, and as soon as his full-time teacher came into the room, she immediately saw what was going on and snatched the bottle from Roo and replaced it with his bottle of breast milk. I could have been very upset about this (what if it had been a bottle of someone else's breastmilk, and what if that person had some sort of disease???), but I let it slide. He seemed to have absolutely no adverse side effects from his surprise "cocktail" of Enfamil GentlEase Lipil. Good thing I've spent all this time and effort (and surgery for abscesses, etc.) on breastfeeding. The least he could have done would be to turn his nose up at the formula!!! Thanks, kid.
2. I've been quite demoralized by this ear infection and asthma-like cough/nebulizer, etc. Again, I thought breastfeeding was supposed to be a magic bullet, or rather a bullet-proof vest, protecting him from any and every germ out there. Those formula-fed babies would hack and puke their way through germ season while my hippie breastfed baby would sail through, pink-cheeked and smiling, with nary a sniffle. Oh, how wrong I was. If they're in daycare, they're going to get every germ that circulates through; it's just a matter of time. It's not such a bad thing, I guess -- my coworkers whose babies were in daycare said they were sick all the time, too, but that by the time they hit school age they were almost NEVER sick. But really, sometimes I feel like I was sold a bill of goods about BFing -- almost like the lovely people who are out there to encourage breastfeeding (and LORD knows I am one of them and can sympathize) would promise almost anything to get you to try and stay with nursing.
3. My milk supply is dwindling. Tonight, because I only got to pump once at work today instead of twice, I had to thaw the last packet of frozen breast milk from the freezer in order to make up Andrew's two bottles for daycare tomorrow. And that's it. I now officially have no reserve of breastmilk. Whereas a few months ago I had a huge oversupply and could regularly pump enough for 3 large bottles PLUS a bag for the freezer daily, now I'm lucky if I produce enough for 2 4-ounce bottles each day.
So I have a couple of options here:
1. Work really, really hard to increase my milk supply again. This will mean a weekend of nursing or pumping every couple of hours, and I'll probably have to carry that into the work week, too. So, whereas I had cut back my daily at-work pumping sessions from 3 to 2, I'll probably have to go back to 3. Or...
2. Supplement with formula. If you've been reading this blog all along, you'll know that I'm not wild about this option. But honestly, I'm less not-wild about it than I had been, given everything I stated above.
Another thing: I'm getting worse at my job. I'm so sick and tired of closing my office door several times a day, taking off my shirt, plugging in the breast pump, connecting all the tubing...Putting on the hands-free pumping bustier. Draping a cloth diaper over my lap so I don't get milk on my work pants. Screwing the connectors onto the collection containers. Pumping. Disconnecting everything, being uber-careful not to spill the precious milk. Getting dressed again. Opening the door. Opening the blinds. Schlepping everything (discreetly, of course) to the staff kitchen to wash it out. And then it seems like it's only an hour or so later that I have to do it all again.
And all that, for what? So my kid can STILL get ear infections and have an asthmatic cough? I was formula-fed and I never had an ear infection and I most certainly never had to have Albuterol. Then again, I was raised in the wilds of Maine, where the air is crisp and clean and not polluted, and I didn't go into daycare until I was 9 months old.
I'm tired of schlepping the breast pump bag back and forth from the house to the car, from the car to work, and back again. I'm so tired of carefully swabbing out the intricate breast pump connector parts, membranes, collection containers, etc. I'm tired of all this and more:
Disposable nursing pads
Lanolin breast ointment
Cracked, bleeding nipples (yes, still)
My right boob being twice the size of the left
Leaking
Not being able to wear a sexy bra
Not being able to schedule meetings at certain times of day
Being bitten, even though those little baby teeth ARE cute
Being tired and hungry all the time
Worrying about spilling the breast milk when preparing bottles
Don't get me wrong: I do want to nurse Andrew until he's at least a year old. I've got no beef about him nursing when we're together -- it's just the damn pumping.
Would there really be that much of a decrease in benefits to him if he had formula at daycare and breastmilk when we're together?
I feel like such a wimp, but I'm tired, tired, tired of feeling like a moo-cow hooked up to a milking machine.
Tonight is the closest I've come in a LONG time to giving in on the breastmilk-only versus supplementing-with-formula thing. A couple of things precipitated this:
1. Last week, a new lunch-coverage person began work at Andrew's daycare and mistakenly gave him someone else's bottle. Of formula. He was fine, and as soon as his full-time teacher came into the room, she immediately saw what was going on and snatched the bottle from Roo and replaced it with his bottle of breast milk. I could have been very upset about this (what if it had been a bottle of someone else's breastmilk, and what if that person had some sort of disease???), but I let it slide. He seemed to have absolutely no adverse side effects from his surprise "cocktail" of Enfamil GentlEase Lipil. Good thing I've spent all this time and effort (and surgery for abscesses, etc.) on breastfeeding. The least he could have done would be to turn his nose up at the formula!!! Thanks, kid.
2. I've been quite demoralized by this ear infection and asthma-like cough/nebulizer, etc. Again, I thought breastfeeding was supposed to be a magic bullet, or rather a bullet-proof vest, protecting him from any and every germ out there. Those formula-fed babies would hack and puke their way through germ season while my hippie breastfed baby would sail through, pink-cheeked and smiling, with nary a sniffle. Oh, how wrong I was. If they're in daycare, they're going to get every germ that circulates through; it's just a matter of time. It's not such a bad thing, I guess -- my coworkers whose babies were in daycare said they were sick all the time, too, but that by the time they hit school age they were almost NEVER sick. But really, sometimes I feel like I was sold a bill of goods about BFing -- almost like the lovely people who are out there to encourage breastfeeding (and LORD knows I am one of them and can sympathize) would promise almost anything to get you to try and stay with nursing.
3. My milk supply is dwindling. Tonight, because I only got to pump once at work today instead of twice, I had to thaw the last packet of frozen breast milk from the freezer in order to make up Andrew's two bottles for daycare tomorrow. And that's it. I now officially have no reserve of breastmilk. Whereas a few months ago I had a huge oversupply and could regularly pump enough for 3 large bottles PLUS a bag for the freezer daily, now I'm lucky if I produce enough for 2 4-ounce bottles each day.
So I have a couple of options here:
1. Work really, really hard to increase my milk supply again. This will mean a weekend of nursing or pumping every couple of hours, and I'll probably have to carry that into the work week, too. So, whereas I had cut back my daily at-work pumping sessions from 3 to 2, I'll probably have to go back to 3. Or...
2. Supplement with formula. If you've been reading this blog all along, you'll know that I'm not wild about this option. But honestly, I'm less not-wild about it than I had been, given everything I stated above.
Another thing: I'm getting worse at my job. I'm so sick and tired of closing my office door several times a day, taking off my shirt, plugging in the breast pump, connecting all the tubing...Putting on the hands-free pumping bustier. Draping a cloth diaper over my lap so I don't get milk on my work pants. Screwing the connectors onto the collection containers. Pumping. Disconnecting everything, being uber-careful not to spill the precious milk. Getting dressed again. Opening the door. Opening the blinds. Schlepping everything (discreetly, of course) to the staff kitchen to wash it out. And then it seems like it's only an hour or so later that I have to do it all again.
And all that, for what? So my kid can STILL get ear infections and have an asthmatic cough? I was formula-fed and I never had an ear infection and I most certainly never had to have Albuterol. Then again, I was raised in the wilds of Maine, where the air is crisp and clean and not polluted, and I didn't go into daycare until I was 9 months old.
I'm tired of schlepping the breast pump bag back and forth from the house to the car, from the car to work, and back again. I'm so tired of carefully swabbing out the intricate breast pump connector parts, membranes, collection containers, etc. I'm tired of all this and more:
Disposable nursing pads
Lanolin breast ointment
Cracked, bleeding nipples (yes, still)
My right boob being twice the size of the left
Leaking
Not being able to wear a sexy bra
Not being able to schedule meetings at certain times of day
Being bitten, even though those little baby teeth ARE cute
Being tired and hungry all the time
Worrying about spilling the breast milk when preparing bottles
Don't get me wrong: I do want to nurse Andrew until he's at least a year old. I've got no beef about him nursing when we're together -- it's just the damn pumping.
Would there really be that much of a decrease in benefits to him if he had formula at daycare and breastmilk when we're together?
I feel like such a wimp, but I'm tired, tired, tired of feeling like a moo-cow hooked up to a milking machine.
Many Milestones
Goodness, it's been almost a month since I posted! Here are some milestones Andrew has reached since then:
He learned to wave the weekend before he turned 8 months old (it was Sunday, July 27, to be exact).
He pulled himself to standing on Sunday, August 10. Apparently he's been doing this at daycare off and on, but this was the first time he did it for us.
Over the past couple of days, and especially reliably at mealtimes and bath time, he's been babbling: "mamamama" and "babababa" are favorites. I had actually been wondering (and worrying) a little bit about when he was going to start babbling -- typical first-time Mommy, I know. It seems like just when I start worry about something, he up and does it! Anyway, he's also becoming fond of the hard "g" sound, but doesn't really go "gaga" yet.
That's the good news. The annoying news is that I had to take Andrew in for a doctor's visit on Monday because he'd had a terrible weekend -- bad sleep, pulling on his ears, nagging cough, and a fever by Sunday night. The verdict: an ear infection, plus "asthma-like symptoms," so the doc prescribed Albuterol every 4-6 hours (around the clock; ugh, yes, that means setting my alarm for 1:00 a.m. nightly), plus a pulmonary steroid (Pulmicort) every 12 hours, both via nebulizer. I am very concerned about this -- is he going to actually have asthma? I'll be able to ask more questions this morning at 9:00 when we go for our follow-up visit.
Oh, actually, here's piece of good news: I've hired a maid service. They start next Tuesday the 19th, and will come bi-weekly after that. God knows how I'm going to afford it, but I can't stand the grime around here anymore, and I just don't have time to get to it.
Last night I harvested 2 tomatoes and 2 cucumbers from the garden. They were tasty, but I wonder why the bottom halves of the cucumbers didn't fill out??
He learned to wave the weekend before he turned 8 months old (it was Sunday, July 27, to be exact).
He pulled himself to standing on Sunday, August 10. Apparently he's been doing this at daycare off and on, but this was the first time he did it for us.
Over the past couple of days, and especially reliably at mealtimes and bath time, he's been babbling: "mamamama" and "babababa" are favorites. I had actually been wondering (and worrying) a little bit about when he was going to start babbling -- typical first-time Mommy, I know. It seems like just when I start worry about something, he up and does it! Anyway, he's also becoming fond of the hard "g" sound, but doesn't really go "gaga" yet.
That's the good news. The annoying news is that I had to take Andrew in for a doctor's visit on Monday because he'd had a terrible weekend -- bad sleep, pulling on his ears, nagging cough, and a fever by Sunday night. The verdict: an ear infection, plus "asthma-like symptoms," so the doc prescribed Albuterol every 4-6 hours (around the clock; ugh, yes, that means setting my alarm for 1:00 a.m. nightly), plus a pulmonary steroid (Pulmicort) every 12 hours, both via nebulizer. I am very concerned about this -- is he going to actually have asthma? I'll be able to ask more questions this morning at 9:00 when we go for our follow-up visit.
Oh, actually, here's piece of good news: I've hired a maid service. They start next Tuesday the 19th, and will come bi-weekly after that. God knows how I'm going to afford it, but I can't stand the grime around here anymore, and I just don't have time to get to it.
Last night I harvested 2 tomatoes and 2 cucumbers from the garden. They were tasty, but I wonder why the bottom halves of the cucumbers didn't fill out??
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Big Boy
Andrew first crawled, on his hands and knees, on Friday, July 11!
This weekend we babyproofed the house and installed the new convertible car seats. I had mine checked out by the very nice, adorable police officers in the town where I work. They were SO helpful, and I feel much more confident about the seat now. Man, though, car seat manufacturers do NOT make their instructions very easy to read and follow!
Roo has 5 teeth now, and I'm pretty sure the 6th is about to pop through his upper gum. This week I hope to make some more frozen baby food cubes: peaches, apples, and sweet potatoes. One of these days I'm going to see how he likes regular white potatoes.
Don't you think they have the same smile in this picture?
This weekend we babyproofed the house and installed the new convertible car seats. I had mine checked out by the very nice, adorable police officers in the town where I work. They were SO helpful, and I feel much more confident about the seat now. Man, though, car seat manufacturers do NOT make their instructions very easy to read and follow!
Roo has 5 teeth now, and I'm pretty sure the 6th is about to pop through his upper gum. This week I hope to make some more frozen baby food cubes: peaches, apples, and sweet potatoes. One of these days I'm going to see how he likes regular white potatoes.
Don't you think they have the same smile in this picture?
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Messy Life
As I was whirling around trying (futilely) to clean the kitchen tonight after putting Andrew to bed, I came to some realizations about our life right now, and I'm pretty happy with these:
1. There is dog and cat hair in the corners of every room, and on the stairs. But my son loves dogs and cats -- they elicit huge grins from him.
2. There is clean laundry from weeks ago, not yet put away, all over my bedroom. But Andrew and I always go to work/daycare in clean clothes. I take pride in getting the food stains out of his bibs, in fact. Who was the genius who invented Oxy Clean?
3. Sometimes all the groceries don't make it into the actual cupboards, so they're left sitting out on the counters. But Andrew eats all organic food, and he hasn't yet met a food that he doesn't like, and he's well-nourished and (knock wood) healthy.
4. Confession: I have 30-odd library books/movies/audiobooks checked out, and I don't know where they all are. The living room, various spots in the bedroom (including in the bed), next to the rocking chair in the nursery, and in canvas bags in my car. But I read to my son every day -- sometimes after nursing him first thing in the morning, and sometimes when we get home from work/daycare, and sometimes right before bed. And sometimes all three.
5. Usually, the hand-washed dishes in the strainer don't make it to the cupboard either. But they are clean, and everything gets run through the dishwasher at least weekly for sanitizing.
Honestly, I'd rather spend my "alone" time in the evening reading a good book, or researching interesting homemade baby food recipes, or clipping coupons, or blogging. Cleaning isn't high on my list. What is there to be learned from drudgery?
The other week I made cupcakes for Andrew's new head teacher at daycare, because I'd heard her birthday was coming up, and she's a sweet, sweet lady. It was a busy weeknight as it was, but she is worth the time and effort.
I'd also rather spend time watering, feeding, and tending to my vegetables and flowers than worrying about yard work. It's been so satisfying, even just over the past four weeks or so, to see my veggies grow from little tiny seeds to climbing vines and strong stalks that may actually provide food for us this summer.
I'd rather throw the ball for the dogs 100 times than vacuum up the dog hair, religiously, every day. How boring. When my dog's life is over, will I look back fondly at the time I spent vacuuming, or the times my fuzzy best friend ran, hell-bent, across the yard trying to catch the ball on the first hop?
I don't have nice furniture, my house needs mega repairs and updating, my car has many barely-contained fast-food wrappers in its travel trash bag, and my kitchen floor has splats and splotches on it from dogs, cats, and baby (and me, to be honest). There is dust and there are papers and baby toys and literally hundreds of books and magazines, all over my house. My beloved Cuisinart and KitchenAid mixer live out on the counter, because they are like third and fourth arms to me. Andy-Roo's artwork from daycare is taped to the fridge, as are photos, business cards for landscapers (haha), and Roo's daily contact sheets from daycare. I haven't filed old paperwork since before he was born; it's all being held in an old Pampers Swaddlers box in the hallway, to be honest. This is, well, just the detritus of our busy, active life.
It is a messy life, but oh, is it a full one. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
1. There is dog and cat hair in the corners of every room, and on the stairs. But my son loves dogs and cats -- they elicit huge grins from him.
2. There is clean laundry from weeks ago, not yet put away, all over my bedroom. But Andrew and I always go to work/daycare in clean clothes. I take pride in getting the food stains out of his bibs, in fact. Who was the genius who invented Oxy Clean?
3. Sometimes all the groceries don't make it into the actual cupboards, so they're left sitting out on the counters. But Andrew eats all organic food, and he hasn't yet met a food that he doesn't like, and he's well-nourished and (knock wood) healthy.
4. Confession: I have 30-odd library books/movies/audiobooks checked out, and I don't know where they all are. The living room, various spots in the bedroom (including in the bed), next to the rocking chair in the nursery, and in canvas bags in my car. But I read to my son every day -- sometimes after nursing him first thing in the morning, and sometimes when we get home from work/daycare, and sometimes right before bed. And sometimes all three.
5. Usually, the hand-washed dishes in the strainer don't make it to the cupboard either. But they are clean, and everything gets run through the dishwasher at least weekly for sanitizing.
Honestly, I'd rather spend my "alone" time in the evening reading a good book, or researching interesting homemade baby food recipes, or clipping coupons, or blogging. Cleaning isn't high on my list. What is there to be learned from drudgery?
The other week I made cupcakes for Andrew's new head teacher at daycare, because I'd heard her birthday was coming up, and she's a sweet, sweet lady. It was a busy weeknight as it was, but she is worth the time and effort.
I'd also rather spend time watering, feeding, and tending to my vegetables and flowers than worrying about yard work. It's been so satisfying, even just over the past four weeks or so, to see my veggies grow from little tiny seeds to climbing vines and strong stalks that may actually provide food for us this summer.
I'd rather throw the ball for the dogs 100 times than vacuum up the dog hair, religiously, every day. How boring. When my dog's life is over, will I look back fondly at the time I spent vacuuming, or the times my fuzzy best friend ran, hell-bent, across the yard trying to catch the ball on the first hop?
I don't have nice furniture, my house needs mega repairs and updating, my car has many barely-contained fast-food wrappers in its travel trash bag, and my kitchen floor has splats and splotches on it from dogs, cats, and baby (and me, to be honest). There is dust and there are papers and baby toys and literally hundreds of books and magazines, all over my house. My beloved Cuisinart and KitchenAid mixer live out on the counter, because they are like third and fourth arms to me. Andy-Roo's artwork from daycare is taped to the fridge, as are photos, business cards for landscapers (haha), and Roo's daily contact sheets from daycare. I haven't filed old paperwork since before he was born; it's all being held in an old Pampers Swaddlers box in the hallway, to be honest. This is, well, just the detritus of our busy, active life.
It is a messy life, but oh, is it a full one. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
What's Your Hot Water Setting?
For the past few weeks, I've been turning my boiler completely off at night. This came about after I went down to the basement one day to throw in a load of laundry and found that my boiler was running. In June. The only thing it would be running for in June is hot water, and I hadn't called for any hot water, since I'd just gotten home from work.
You see, I have what's called "residential hot water," or "tankless" hot water. There's a small reserve tank, but that's just for water that my furnace heats; I have no hot water heater, per se. I realized that day that the furnace actually runs, all day, to keep the reserve tank at the right temperature. So, at night after my shower I've been going back to the basement and turning the emergency power switch to the furnace to "OFF," and it doesn't get turned on again until the next evening when I get home from work. The reserve tank insulates the hot water well enough so that I have enough warm water to wash my hands in the morning.
Tonight, though, when I went downstairs to turn the thing off, I decided to check the temperature to which the boiler was heating the water in the reserve tank...
Let's back up here. Here's some background info, before I tell you what temp the tank was at:
"Popular Mechanics" (November 2005) says "A factory setting of 120 F on a new residential water heater is recommended (and is sometimes mandated by state law) because it is the highest setting considered to be safe; higher temperatures can cause severe scalding.
"According to the Shriners Hospitals for Children, a person exposed to 140 F water for about 3 seconds receives a second-degree burn and after 5 seconds will have a third-degree burn. At 120 F it will take approximately 5 minutes to receive a third-degree burn. It can take less than half that time for a child to be scalded."
Well, folks, my hot water heater was set at 180 DEGREES.
Needless to say, I was pissed. Now, I knew it was hot (I do, after all do a ton of baby/breast pump dishes by hand every night). But not THAT hot. So, not only had I been wasting precious oil by keeping the boiler on day and night, but I'd REALLY been wasting oil (and creating a dangerous situation in my house with an infant around) by having too-hot water coming out of the tap. In my opinion, the hottest water that comes out of your tap should be just hot enough to stand without adding cold water, because if you have to add cold water to hot water, aren't you kind of defeating the purpose of heating all that water?
Anyway, lesson learned. My aquastat is now set at 120 degrees, but I'm still turning off the boiler at night, because I'm a cheap Yankee, and damn proud of it.
Check your aquastat today!
Addendum: I had meant to mention that I'm mostly pissed with my oil company, which also services my boiler, because they MUST have known that the aquastat was set so dangerously and wastefully high. Hell, they may have even set it at that temperature. At the very least, they should have been checking it during annual inspections! I certainly have never, ever opened up the panel that houses the aquastat. I only found it by dubbing around; it's totally not obvious or easily accessible. I would switch oil companies tomorrow if the oil company owner weren't my next-door neighbor, and if she weren't a darn sweet 80-something widow who thinks my son is just adorable. Sigh...
You see, I have what's called "residential hot water," or "tankless" hot water. There's a small reserve tank, but that's just for water that my furnace heats; I have no hot water heater, per se. I realized that day that the furnace actually runs, all day, to keep the reserve tank at the right temperature. So, at night after my shower I've been going back to the basement and turning the emergency power switch to the furnace to "OFF," and it doesn't get turned on again until the next evening when I get home from work. The reserve tank insulates the hot water well enough so that I have enough warm water to wash my hands in the morning.
Tonight, though, when I went downstairs to turn the thing off, I decided to check the temperature to which the boiler was heating the water in the reserve tank...
Let's back up here. Here's some background info, before I tell you what temp the tank was at:
"Popular Mechanics" (November 2005) says "A factory setting of 120 F on a new residential water heater is recommended (and is sometimes mandated by state law) because it is the highest setting considered to be safe; higher temperatures can cause severe scalding.
"According to the Shriners Hospitals for Children, a person exposed to 140 F water for about 3 seconds receives a second-degree burn and after 5 seconds will have a third-degree burn. At 120 F it will take approximately 5 minutes to receive a third-degree burn. It can take less than half that time for a child to be scalded."
Well, folks, my hot water heater was set at 180 DEGREES.
Needless to say, I was pissed. Now, I knew it was hot (I do, after all do a ton of baby/breast pump dishes by hand every night). But not THAT hot. So, not only had I been wasting precious oil by keeping the boiler on day and night, but I'd REALLY been wasting oil (and creating a dangerous situation in my house with an infant around) by having too-hot water coming out of the tap. In my opinion, the hottest water that comes out of your tap should be just hot enough to stand without adding cold water, because if you have to add cold water to hot water, aren't you kind of defeating the purpose of heating all that water?
Anyway, lesson learned. My aquastat is now set at 120 degrees, but I'm still turning off the boiler at night, because I'm a cheap Yankee, and damn proud of it.
Check your aquastat today!
Addendum: I had meant to mention that I'm mostly pissed with my oil company, which also services my boiler, because they MUST have known that the aquastat was set so dangerously and wastefully high. Hell, they may have even set it at that temperature. At the very least, they should have been checking it during annual inspections! I certainly have never, ever opened up the panel that houses the aquastat. I only found it by dubbing around; it's totally not obvious or easily accessible. I would switch oil companies tomorrow if the oil company owner weren't my next-door neighbor, and if she weren't a darn sweet 80-something widow who thinks my son is just adorable. Sigh...
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