it’s complicated

Yes. My newly established relationship is complicated; it’s volatile. We were spectacular together once…no issues, no hang ups. You and I were two peas in a pod. I needed you. Hell, I still do! But you’ve eluded me for a while now….it’s been over a year since we’ve seen eye to eye. Things have changed so drastically between us. Sweet slumber, when will you come back to me for good?

Now that I’m finished being overly dramatic/poetic about it, let’s discuss something that every human needs – SLEEP. Recuperative, satiating, peaceful sleep. I feel like it’s been so long now. My relationship with sleep began to get complicated in the latter stages of pregnancy. Heartburn galore and general discomfort kept me from sleeping well. Getting up in the middle of the night starving – scarfing down food – only made matters worse. Now that I’ve had the baby things had gotten even worse. The worst. And now that we’re almost a year into this motherhood thing there have been improvements but I fear that I’ll never sleep well again. Baby boy still wakes up a few times per night needing comfort. He wakes every morning around 5 for a bottle and a change. If we’re lucky, he’ll sleep some more until 7 or 8. Our days still revolve around the delicate balancing act of caring for the bouncing baby, napping whenever possible, and juggling all of the other responsibilities of life. When we do accomplish tasks like cleaning the house or actually leaving the house altogether, we feel like champions. I can see now that I and every other person on the planet (probably) have gravely underestimated how lack of sleep can affect human lives. It infiltrates everything. When you don’t have the energy to live, you don’t. You merely survive. They don’t use sleep deprivation as a torture device for nothing, folks! Of everything that parenthood requires, this is the predominant act. It’s not the money or the patience or the altered & misshapen body; it’s the fact that you do it all, with immense love, when you feel like shit run over twice. On the daily. The exhaustion never goes away and at times you begin to question why you even married your spouse. It’s all a part of the package. Of course, it’s worth it. Is there such thing as an elective induced coma? I’d like to take a teensy 48 hour nap. Half kidding. On that note, goodnight.

mamo toss

The relationship between these two – my favorite people in the entire world – it sure is something. Juju gets so excited when she walks in the room at night (if he wakes up to witness it). Every night, while half asleep, he crawls his way over to her side of the bed for cuddles and warmth. Sometimes he gets tricked by the large, rumpled-up down comforter and he thinks it’s her. When he discovers that she’s not there his disappointment is palpable. Poor buddy. He loves his mamo to the moon and back. And so do I.

nearing ELEVEN months

My baby boy is getting close, y’all. He’s turning 11 MONTHS, which means that he’s almost a YEAR OLD! Jigga whhhuuuutt?? I know it’s cliché but WHERE DID THE TIME GO??! I mean that sincerely. I just cannot fathom that an entire year has passed since I gave birth to this little joy bundle. Here’s what JuBa has been up to:

He stands independently but only when he doesn’t realize that he’s doing so. He’s physically ready to stand and take steps on his own but he treats it like one big joke for now. He’s not quite ready yet I guess but he’s so, so close now. [insert Macaulay Culkin hands-on-face-home-alone-scream here]

He makes new sounds each day and has said “momma” on demand once. Aside from that he’s not speaking any real words yet. He answers to his name selectively, the devil!

He has 5 teeth and he knows how to use them on human flesh.

He eats most anything that we put in front of him. There’s only one food that he repeatedly refuses to eat and it’s Mac ‘n Cheese! Seriously, is this kid even American? His fav foods are bananas, oranges, graham crackers and noodles/pasta. He can slurp with the best of them.

He has a very intense fascination with mechanics. When he plays with a toy truck or car he’ll turn it over to see what’s underneath. He studies the vacuum cleaner, the air purifier and the appliances regularly. Anything that turns ‘on’ will catch his interest.

He now loves baths, his stroller and doesn’t mind his carseat as much. *HALLELUJAH HALLELUJAH*

Socially, he’s very warm and outgoing. Perhaps a bit too handsy for most kids. His first inclination upon meeting someone new is to touch their face and hair right away. This turns some kids off, I’ve learned. Especially the older ones. He has no problems sharing toys and is more of an observer when it comes to other kids. He’s still a stone-cold charmer when it comes to meeting other women, though.

He’s been on 8 flights so far and is well on his way to becoming a baby jet-setter. 😉

He’s the snuggliest sleeper ever, exactly what his mamo wanted in a kid. He sleeps best in our arms but once he wakes up in bed alone he’ll whimper until someone comes to plug his bink back in. He’s still a restless little sleeper but we’re on more of a routine now. It’s manageable; but we still spend most of our days switching off between Judah duty and snoozing for an hour or two.

That’s all for now. I hope to post Judah updates semi-regularly so that when memory fails me I’ll have this blog to look back on. Mommy’s memory is shit.

Goodnight! xo

 

we heart crab

Here’s just one more reason to love the holidays: Dungeness crab season has begun y’all! We went to one of the local asian supermarkets and nabbed some live Dungeness crabs from the tank, took ’em home and cooked ’em up. Truth be told, I feel a genuine sadness when dipping a live being into a boiling water bath… but that feeling fades when the lemony garlic butter sauce aromas fill the room. We’re a heartless family when it comes to delicious food. Sorries! The steam from the kitchen clouded our patio doors so JJ and I wrote messages while we waited for H to finish our meal. We cracked and ate our crab with some crusty bread and drawn butter. So fresh, so fancy, so divine. Happy Sunday to us!

how hippy

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Living in Northern California can have an effect on you. More specifically, living in the Bay Area. After approx. 4 years here, I can state with full confidence that my wife and I have begun the slow but certain transition to hippydom. I doubt that we’ll ever be full-fledged citizens of hippytown but there have been many changes to our approach over time. They’re notable enough that I’ve been keeping a list and whenever I glance at it I giggle. Although I’ve been known to rock a billowy top and turquoise jewelry I’m talking about something deeper than that…a Bay Area frame of mind. Allow me to regale you with a few solid examples:

  • My wife purchases coconut oil by the gallon. No, I’m not exaggerating. She spends her precious spare time browsing bulkapothecary.com. My solution to any health woes is to drink more water, hers is to put a little dab of coconut oil on it. She suggests its use for everything. It’s gotten out of hand.
  • One day I boarded the elevator in our apartment building and knew instantly that my wife had been there not long before. Why’s that you ask? Because it smelled strongly of Frankincense and Lavender essential oils. Again, she uses these oils for EVERYTHING, not just for cologne. In our birth class she suggested aromatherapy as a method of pain management. I now understand how utterly useless that would’ve been for me. Ha!
  • When writing my wedding vows I actually googled “feminist wedding vows” for ideas.
  • Shaving just isn’t as much of a thing these days. Not like it used to be.
  • I wear my baby regularly, I experienced natural childbirth, we co-sleep and YES…I consumed my own placenta postpartum.
  • We participate in protests whenever possible. *See the preceding photos above of a book that we received for our baby boy entitled “A is for Activist.”

So there you have it. We’re living that Yay Area life. For a couple years now I’ve been looking forward to our next move to somewhere cheaper, simpler, closer to family. But I gotta say that I’m thankful for where we live at the moment; warts and all. I appreciate the influence & awareness that our one-of-a-kind city has bestowed upon us.

Peace, man.

souper pho-reak

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I mean, what can I say about my favorite food? Nay, my favorite cuisine? I remember quite keenly my first experience with Vietnamese food. Some years ago I had a co-worker who was Vietnamese but born and raised in France. Her taste in food was impeccable and she took it very, very seriously. The ritual of it, the importance of quality… and she had a reverence for proper form. She took me to my first authentic Vietnamese restaurant in SoCal. She taught me what to order (for a beginner: spring rolls and pho) and how to order it (rare steak on the side), prepare it (how to add veggies, sauces, etc.) and consume it (how to spool noodles onto the spoon and dip it in broth to get a mixture of all the wonderful flavors). I haven’t veered from what she showed me and I’ve had hundreds of bowls of pho since then. I don’t know what it is about the flavors of Vietnamese cuisine that resonate with me so deeply. The restaurants are often no-fuss with a “family business” type feel. The impact of each dish is based on how fresh the ingredients are – there’s no hiding behind subpar proteins, veggies and herbs. I have two bucket list items that pertain to this delicious food:

  1. to make pho from scratch and have it taste just as good as any authentic restaurant’s.
  2. travel to Vietnam and eat myself silly.

If I ever do either of these things you, my fair blog readers, will be the FIRST to know! Until that day, I slurp on.

* I wish I were clever enough to have come up with the title of this post on my own. But, I’m not. Holly gifted me a shirt that says Souper Pho-reak on it and it’s one of my faves.

** For those that have always been curious, it’s pronounced “phuh” not “phoh.” FYI

baby’s first christmas tree

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This year, we’ll be visiting family out of town for Christmas; so for the sake of tradition we wanted to make Jude’s first xmas holiday memorable while keeping things supes simple. Factoring in two rambunctious cats and a burgeoning toddler, our household decorations had to be somewhat fail-safe. We opted for a mini tree which I LOVE. We secured the tree stand to a table with putty and tape. We’ve taken no chances and it is paying off handsomely so far. All decorations remain in their rightful spots. This is an achievement that we’re proud of! Doesn’t take much these days, does it? [insert weary giggle here] We hung our brand new stockings on the mantle and put out a few bowls of Christmas bulbs throughout the house. We’ve also got our holiday scented candles burning on the regs to give our home that extra cheery oomph. It feels jovial and celebratory in our little apartment. I know that Baby J won’t remember how this felt but we sure will. Bring on the holiday season! xo

judah + his moms

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Our friends at Blueberry Photography were gracious enough to take a few photos of us as a family. Juju is about 8 months here…in all of this tubby glory. He’s so. damn. great. in front of the camera. I want a dozen more just like him!

democratic hang over

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In the days and weeks that followed the election, my family went through a grieving process. It took about 3 days just to break through the numbness and shock to accept that this was the leader that our country selected. Well, half of the country anyway. Holly worked on election night but Judah and I walked downtown to meet up with some friends for a watching party. The place was crowded but we had seats. I ordered a glass of wine hoping that it would calm the nerves but as the night went on and the counts rolled in, I could feel myself getting very warm and increasingly frenzied. I found it hard to keep up with casual conversation happening at the table and my attention was glued to the giant projector screen above our heads. I stepped out of the cafe a couple of times with Juju in my arms to take some deep breaths. Around 8p I started to get frightened about the results and had to get out of there. I apologized, blamed it on Judah’s bath time and bolted home. Walking home through downtown Oakland at night can put you on edge. It doesn’t feel 100% safe, ever, which is why I don’t do it often. Somehow though I felt like the massive, overarching issue of potentially electing a mysogynistic, narcissistic demagogue to lead the free world overshadowed my immediate fears; like I was walking in a bubble. That’s how powerful it felt to me. And I sensed that every person I passed that night had the same concerns and the same worries on a much larger scale than what was presently in front of us. For the rest of the evening at home, I tried to maintain our nighty-night routine as best I could. I had the TV tuned to CNN so that I could hear it in the background. That night, Judah didn’t fall asleep in bed like usual; he fell asleep in my arms as I paced back and forth watching the election unfold. I wish I could say that holding my child close to me and trying to soothe him had a calming effect on me that night but it didn’t. I was horrified when all was said and done. I’m still horrified. No matter how many think pieces, articles, well-intentioned and likeminded comments of support, tears, petitions, conversations with loved ones I’ve read/had/consumed there’s still a gigantic neon WHAT THE FUCK??!!!! sign flashing inside of my brain. This loss feels devastating. I won’t sugarcoat this. And I’m not just talking about Hillary, bless her. I’m talking about what it means to wake up and feel like you live in a foreign place that you don’t recognize. In a place that doesn’t seem to represent everything that you thought it did for your entire life. Sure, you may think that my analogies are extreme or overly dramatic but FUCK if I care! Predictably H and I have had the conversation about getting out of dodge but my British citizenship isn’t going to get us much different. They’re going through their own messy pile of shite. So what do we do now? Now that we’ve accepted it (Well, partially. We’ve still got teeny tiny hopes that the electoral college will save us from this disaster!)? We’ve tried to find the smallest silver linings possible. For example – our first lady is an immigrant. Awesome. Also, Trump was a democrat for a very long time…perhaps some of those notions will pop up here and there? Lastly, we live in a resilient country. It’s not unbreakable despite what many people think, but we’ve weathered a lot in our 240-something years and will hopefully continue to do so. For now we try to find silver linings and we wait. We give thanks for our little corner of the world where people share our sentiments and aren’t afraid to speak out. We wait some more. We try to understand the intentions of those that felt like Donald was the best choice, it helps a little. But still we wait. We wait for the worst. We hope for the best. We wait.

my nursing journey

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May I speak freely about breastfeeding here today? If you’re not interested in the subject, you may want to scroll right along to the next post. If you’re a judgey mommy looking to compare I’ll say the same to you: move on, pleaseadnthankyou. My breastfeeding journey lasted about 6 months which was the perfect amount of time for my son and I. When I was pregnant I always expected that I would breastfeed for at least a year, that was the goal that I set for myself. I’m familiar with all of the mumbo jumbo about the benefits and the bonding and the pumping, etc, etc. I’d done my research. Now that I’m on the other side of it I have quite a lot to say on the matter. Firstly, I didn’t love it. I know that there are a lot of moms out there that really get a lot out of breastfeeding their babies but I’m just not one of them. There were appreciative moments, peaceful moments, fulfilling moments but I never sat there nursing at 4am and thought to myself “I could do this forever (or even a year!).” Nah. Jude took to breastfeeding easily when I used a nipple shield and I always felt like he got plenty to eat. You wanna know something naughty? I never stopped using my shield. He latched onto it so easily and I never got any clogged ducts or cracks or anything. I accredit that to using a shield consistently for the 6 months that I nursed. Yes, I’d been chided by a few lactation consultants to keep practicing without it. But I was tired, and stressed, and it worked. Time continued to tick-tock by and I just kept using it. Eventually I just kinda said “fuck it.” Was it an inconvenience to shuffle around in the dark at night to find the shield? Yes. Was it a pain to keep them sterilized and easily accessible, sure. But it worked for me and I have no regrets.

Secondly, I loathed nursing in public. If you don’t know the word “loathe” it means that you feel intense dislike or disgust for <insert thing here>. That’s a strong word, and in this case it fits. When presented with the idea of having to nurse in public I felt nervous energy rocket through my body and I would sweat. I felt supremely uncomfortable. I was anxious. Why? Does it really matter why? I did it when I had to but I also did what I could to avoid it. The fumbling inconvenience of it all. Just, no. Not for me. Which leads me to the third thing…

I wish we would’ve added formula to the equation a lot sooner. My wife fought me on this when I decided that I needed to feel less tethered to JJ’s feedings. Nursing him around the clock for those first few months was a beast. I tried pumping extra so that I could catch a break and somebody else could feed him. But I just couldn’t pump enough. Also, pumping is time consuming and cumbersome in case nobody done told ya. Even though it took some time to pin down the right formula for Judah it was so worth it once we did. It gave me the freedom and the extra shut-eye that I desperately needed.

When I felt ready to wean JJ off of the breast he simultaneously became very noticeably interested in our food. Impeccable timing, this kid. Since he was already on formula half of the time the weaning period was inconsequential. He’s been an amazingly adventurous eater ever since. Yes, it really was that simple weaning this kid. I got lucky.

Lastly, here I am…haven’t breastfed in about two month and I s t i l l.  h a v e.  m i l k. Why?? I’m so ready for these babies to return to their former glory. Can somebody please tell me when it’ll go away? You’ve done your job, girls! You can come on home now. I’ve missed the old yous.

And you, momma readers? How was your journey?