He works (too) hard for the money
So you all know about Darling Husband and two jobs and his habit of working constantly incessantly all the freaking time really, really hard?
And how he was going to cut back when the baby arrived, so he could, like, get to know the baby and stuff?
That was the plan. But then a few things happened …
- My maternity leave payments kicked in — we live in Canada, and I was working full-time, so I am entitled to 55% of my salary for one year.
- We realized that me making 55% of my usual pay is like … well, it’s like HALF of my usual pay.
- Our bills were not cut in half.
- Even though we are cloth-diapering and breastfeeding (which we recognize are saving us BUCKETS and GOBS and OODLES of money), we need to eat and have power and stuff.
- Darling Husband was offered full-time at his part-time gig, Job B (a.k.a. The Job He Loves).
Yes, full-time. Keep in mind that Darling Husband already works full-time at Job A (a.k.a. The Job He Hates). But our long-term goal is for him to work exclusively at Job B, be happy, etc., so he accepted it.
That means he has two full-time jobs now. Ouch.
These last few weeks have been rough on all three of us. Well, Baby Boy probably doesn’t realize yet, but I feel badly that he’s not getting to spend that much time with his daddy.
It’s been hard on me doing everything myself (exclusively caring for Baby Boy, making all of the meals, getting groceries, running errands, cleaning, caring for Little Dog, etc). I pretty much handle all of these things all the time, anyway, because Darling Husband has always worked a lot, but lately it’s been reeeeeally just me. Like alone, doing it all, for days and days at a time, without having him around for even a single diaper change or pee break. Hopefully this explains the spotty blogging lately.
And this has been very hard on Darling Husband, of course, because he is the one working two full-time jobs! Eighty-plus hours a week! Some nights he gets three hours of sleep, which is not healthy at all. I have been really worried about him.
We have not made any decisions yet, but we are having lots of talks and are whole-heartedly trying to figure things out. Five things we know for sure …
- Darling Husband cannot keep working two full-time jobs. He will be cutting back as soon as humanly possible.
- We want Darling Husband to make a career out of the job he loves. Yes, it pays less money now, but it has the potential to make more in the long run. And it makes him happy! I don’t want him toiling away at a horrible job for the next 30-odd years. So that means cuts need to be made, in order to live on a smaller salary.
- It’s essential for Darling Husband to spend more time with Baby Boy. Even my former workaholic father-in-law, who some suspect has a heart made of coins, told him that he regretting working so much when Darling Husband and his siblings were kids.
- It’s essential for Darling Husband to spend more time with me. I know that the best gift we can give our kids is a happy marriage, and never seeing each other is making us both miserable.
- Staying where we are means I definitely need to return to full-time work after maternity leave. We’ve done the math, and it’s just not possible to live in the city/suburbs once my maternity leave payments stop. Luckily, we don’t want to stay around here, and homes are cheaper out in the country — where we want to live. We’ve been searching more and more lately, so me going back to work will become an option and not a necessity.
Big changes could be coming soon! I am just focusing on trying to stay positive, and praying that we can get our little family into a cheaper home/lifestyle that will allow us to enjoy what really matters — spending more time together, and less time missing Daddy while he works.
My first "mommy nightmare"
Before I became a mom, I had the usual sort of nightmares. Being chased, people breaking in at night, the girl from The Ring, evil clowns, etc. You know — normal stuff!
Now? My dreams are much more G-rated but EVEN SCARIER.
Last night I dreamed that I left Baby Boy with my mother-in-law. When I came back, she accused me of not leaving any breastmilk in the fridge or freezer, and so she had to go buy some milk.
“But there’s tons of milk! It’s in the deep freeze! I told you that!” I sputtered. “Wait … what do you mean, you bought him some milk?”
Yeah, good ol’ mother-in-law had went out and bought homogenized milk and fed it to my 10-week-old! In my dream, of course, I totally lost it. “That could hurt him! They can’t have real milk until they’re ONE YEAR OLD!” I shrieked.
Then I thought to ask how she even got the milk. She replied that she took him in his carseat, without the base. “You can’t even strap it in without the base! You could have killed him!” I screamed.
Then, in the dream, I notice that Baby Boy is sucking away on a bottle of reddish stuff. “What’s he drinking???” I demanded.
“Cranberry juice.”
All I can say is THANK GOD THIS WAS A DREAM. I woke up extremely agitated and confused. Baby Boy was fussing, half-asleep, and I immediately picked him up and nursed him. “Poor baby,” I said sleepily. “She gave you real milk … and cranberry juice … Oh, my poor baby!”
Tears over the crib transition (mine, not his)
Baby Boy slept in his crib last night!
The crib that is located in his own room, which is, like … not in our room, which is where he slept for his whole life so far. He was ALL ALONE IN THERE, like he was moved out into a little bachelor apartment. Just him and his teddy. My squishy little baby!
Yeah, I was freaking a bit.
I had been wondering when to transition him from the bassinet of the Playard in our room to the crib in his room. I had started putting him down for naps in there a few weeks ago, but never at night. Some moms told me their babies had been sleeping in their nurseries since they were very young. Other moms told me, “You’ll know when it’s right.”
After all the conflicting advice, the deciding factor was really his bassinet, which had a weight limit of 15 lbs. — and our little 10-week-old man had crept over the 14 lb. mark. Who knows, maybe he is already fifteen pounds! What if he collapses it??? OH MY GOD, he will wake up screaming in a heap of collapsed bassinet fabric and poles! The time is NOW!
Of course, there was also the option of moving him to the “floor” of the Playard. But reaching that far down X-number of times each day and night? Not cool for mama’s back.
So I decided last night was the night. Darling Husband was actually home, so I knew he’d be able to talk me down when things got nervy. We moved his light-up aquarium and special swaddle blanky into the crib. We moved the baby monitor in there. We set up a fan to keep things cool and circulate-y. I determined that leaving the light in the laundry closet on was perfect — it allowed some light to spill into his room, but not too much. Deep breaths, deep breaths!
We put him to bed around 9:30 p.m., and he slept until just after 1:30 a.m. — pretty much exactly how long he would have normally slept. I fed him and he went down again until 5:30 a.m. I fed him again, and he woke up for the day at 7:30 a.m. He seemed happy and well-rested and not at all traumatized! Success!
Oh … do not ask me how many times I crept into the room to check to make sure he was still breathing. It was … a lot.
How moms meet other moms at the movies …
OTHER MOM: Oh, what a sweet little boy!
ME: Thanks! Your daughter’s beautiful. How old is she?
OTHER MOM: Six months. How old is your son?
ME: Ten weeks.
OTHER MOM: Whaaaaaaaaat? He’s so big!
ME: Yup, he’s a big guy.
OTHER MOM: How much does he weigh?
ME: Fourteen pounds.
OTHER MOM: WHOA!
ME: Why, how much does your daughter weigh?
OTHER MOM: Sixteen pounds!
ME: … Oh … Er, did you see that the new Jennifer Aniston movie is playing next week?
Five "new mom cliches" that are actually very true
- You scarf your meals … I actually have to actively focus on not doing this, or else I am instinctively shoving half a piece of toast in my mouth. Must eat quickly, baby will cry any second, nom, nom … or eat cold meals. Yesterday I reheated a piece of lasagne for dinner. But by the time I got to eat it, it was half-cold again — and I had no time to re-reheat it. I was starving from missing lunch, so I ate it anyway. The pre-baby me? Yeah, I used to scoff if something wasn’t reheated to the perfect temperature, or had slightly burned edges. I barely remember that girl!
- You find it extremely difficult to stop talking about your baby … or pregnancy … or your friends’ babies. I am probably still in the grace period of new-momness where people aren’t telling me to shut up — or maybe I’m just discussing Baby Boy with people with also love him to bits? I can hear myself sometimes, yakking away about Baby Boy, and I have to will myself to change the subject. This is why it’s good to have other mommy friends — you can discuss nothing but your children for hours, and find it fascinating (really) about how the two babies fit into clothes differently.
- You don’t have much time to get yourself pretty. Before I became a mom, I would walk through the grocery store and see new moms looking kind of … beraggled. Slightly-rumpled top, askew ponytail, no undereye conealer when they reeeeally coulda used some. Now? I get it! They’re not sloppy — that look is actually NICE compared to the spit-up-coated bra and underwear they’d been wearing at home. That ponytail took 30 precious seconds to do, and looks a lot nicer than the scraggly half-bun they’d been sporting at home. Sure, they forgot concealer, but they took the time for some blush and tinted lipgloss, so they wouldn’t look so dead-tired. This look took WORK, so appreciate it, dammit!
- You put yourself second. Darling Husband, my mom and Little Sis have always joked (hmm, maybe were serious?) that I’m high-maintenance, a diva, that “it’s all about me,” etc. Since having Baby Boy, I believe they’d have to revoke that statement. He comes first, period. I make sure I’m not neglecting myself, but I’m definitely not the front-runner anymore.
- You spout advice uncontrollably. Stuff like, “Oh, it goes by so fast! Enjoy it while it lasts!” (FYI, it does! Baby Boy is only 10 weeks old, and already I feel like he’s so BIG and grown-up! He’s like a mini-toddler or something, so how has it only been 10 measly little weeks?) Seriously, you have one baby and you feel like an expert (when in fact you are still a newb yourself!). Two of my friends are due in the next two weeks, and already I’m all, “Best swaddle blanket blah blah blah,” and, “Don’t buy that! It’s useless crap!” When I have my second baby, I’ll probably open some kind of parenting school or something.
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Heather's Handmade Life 