End of an era

Today is Matthew's first ever day of not breastfeeding! Yay for me! And I don't think he's noticed at all.

It's been such a journey.

The plan when Matt was born was for me to breastfeed at least 3 months. Then the second goal was 6 months, and the ultimate goal was a year. I felt pretty sure I would not want to breastfeed past a year, though I was willing to concede another month or two depending on how well the weaning process was going. At 11.5 months, we pretty much made it.

I feel pretty proud of myself for this, especially since I haven't liked and still don't like breastfeeding, really. Sure, I feel strongly about it and that people should do it if they possibly can, but apart from feeling satisfied with achieving my convictions, it's kind of been a hassle. I like being just my own person. Well, it's complicated. It IS nice getting baby cuddles every single day no matter what. So, ambivalence.

Overall, weaning has gone spectacularly well. Matt really doesn't seem attached (hee hee), so dropping feedings has been no problem for him other than the first week, about 5 weeks ago, when he was slightly fussier. He seems to love drinking regular milk out of a cup, making cute slurping sounds (and dribbling milk all over everything).

But, weaning is also going spectacularly poorly for me in some moments. I was worried about getting some type of postpartum depression since depression runs in the family, but thankfully that didn't happen. But, man!, these hormone changes from weaning are killing me. It's ridiculous. I feel like a high schooler all over again, crying for no reason. Really. The other day I was writing an email and just started crying uncontrollably. It took me probably 10 minutes to get it together. And NOTHING triggered the crying jag. I wasn't even really thinking about anything, just typing about something boring and not baby related. So... hopefully things will even out quickly.

Also, I can't sleep. It has to be related. I'm tired, not caffeinated, not stressed, not hungry, haven't exercised too close to bedtime, then just lay there all awake and stuff. It's terrible, especially since Matt wakes up around 5 or 5:15 every day. And then I just feel like crying. Or sleeping all day. Or alternating between crying and sleeping. But instead we go about the usual routine, playing, laughing, strolling, going to the gym, romping around the yard. Ugh.

So that's not so great.

But yay! again. I can leave Matthew whenever I want (not that I have anywhere to go) and not have to worry about my boobs feeling like exploding! And now he's really like a kid instead of a baby! We made it!

Delusions of victory

When someone comments on my random bruises or gives me a second look at the gym because they recognize me from the roller derby recruitment poster I hung up there, I think, "Hmm, sure is nice to finally be on a winning team." And then I think, "Wait! We lost! We lost that game!" And then I think, "Well, kind of, I guess."

The bout on Saturday was great. It was the most fun I've ever had playing roller derby, though, apparently, we lost, 160 to 180. But there were so many great things!

1. The teams were pretty evenly matched. The other team definitely had us beat in sheer size and in experience playing together, but we were faster, more athletic, and more teamworky.
2. I got to play, like, the whole game. I think I sat out about five jams total. And one of those was because I got hit in the face and thought my lip was bleeding (it wasn't). This made me super happy because I've always wanted more playing time. Every game, probably, I've thought, "Man, I sure wish I could have played more. I'm not even tired." I know everyone says that they want to play more, but in the past, I've really felt that I got less playing time than people who were less-good players, who had much, much worse practice attendance, or who had racked up penalties and cost our team many points because of it.
3. Our team completely outplayed the other team. Usually outplaying the other team results in a win, which is probably why I keep thinking we won.
4. I did a lot more hitting than getting hit.
5. Our bench was calm. I've almost forgot what it's like to have an orderly, cordial, calm bench during a game. There was no fighting and no arguing. The coach told us what to do, the bench coach told us when to go in and sit out, and everyone just did it! So sportsmanlike. Yay.

And... Matthew says, "I'm awake, Mom! Come get me! No more blogging!"

But quickly, things that were awful about the bout:

1. Ten million official timeouts. Come on, officials. Get it together! (I'm a professed lover of refereeing, but this was ridiculous.)
2. Other team playing slow game. So, so boring. Also, all that start-line kneeling made my leg tired. But only one leg.
3. Bogus track-cut call at the end of the game that cost us the game.

Fat update

Back when I joined the gym, I had a fitness assessment done. Part of it was getting weighed and hooked up to the fat-measuring machine. (I can't remember the name of it. And when you ask the front-desk people if you can use the fat measurer again, it really makes them snicker. But nonetheless, that's what it does.)

Original assessment was February 1. Reassessment was May 22. In between, I did pretty much nothing for almost two months because of the surgery and recovery. So it's looking pretty good.

BMI went from 27.3 to 26.3 (Still mildly obese. Eek.)
% fat went from 33.9 to 31.3
Lost 6.4 pounds "fat weight"
Gained 1.5 pounds "lean weight"

Not bad for the small amount of aerobic exercise I've been doing. I've only really been lifting for two months and playing roller derby for a month and a half or less. All this to say...

I'm about to start the Ross Demasi fitness extravaganza! Free weights! (Gah, gotta hang out by the mirrors with all the meatheads now.) I told Ross my goal is to get more-buff arms and lose 5 pounds. He made me a 12-week plan, and I'm starting it next week (because I don't want to be immobile with soreness for our FIRST HOME BOUT on Saturday).

So, soon I shall no longer be overweight. And I will be more buff than you, if I'm not already.

Secret roller derby life

I like to call going to practice my secret life. Because I spend all day with Matthew, almost all of his waking hours, he probably thinks he knows me. I'm Mom, Mom, Mom. But ha ha! I tricked him! When he goes to sleep, I go to roller derby practice! It's my secret life, and he knows nothing about it.

Tonight's practice. And I'm so excited every practice day. I used to be like, "Eh, practice tonight. Should be fun." Now I'm like, "Woohoo! Practice!"

I didn't think I would play roller derby again. It seemed like a lot of work. At least once a week, I was like, "Ugh, Jeff, should I quit? I love skating, but I'm so tired of everything else. I just don't want to do it anymore. But I really like hitting people. But I hate having to do a bunch of other stuff. And some of the people are so annoying, always trying to cause drama or complaining about other people." (At least I did my complaining to Jeff, right, not at the rink? Ha ha.)

But now! Skate, skate, skate! No work! No fundraisers! No monthly dues! Just skating, skating, skating, hitting, hitting, hitting, and my favorite - getting to scrimmage for, literally, hours and going in every single jam. It's a roller-Brigitte's dream come true. And no one's dropping out and saying they're too tired. I think nearly everyone who plays roller derby has cried during or after practice at some point. Notably, my practice-induced crying happened after a scrimmage one time. I sat in my car sobbing hysterically. Another girl knocked on the window and asked me if I was okay and what the problem was. I said something like, "I'm fiiinnne... I'm just crying because of people being such wusses. We never ppppracctttticce haarrdd enough. Boo hoo."

The other thing I love about RAD (Rolling Arsenal of Derby, my new team, for those of you unfamiliar) is that everyone is more serious. Not serious in a not-fun kind of way, but serious in a we're-here-to-play kind of way. Practice is very focused, and it's fun because we don't waste a bunch of time talking about extraneous events or our feelings or our personal lives. (That's what before practice is for.) And it makes me so happy to be there. (Of course, when I'm getting ready to leave my house at quarter to seven, I'm always like, "Oh, Jeff, I should skip practice so we can hang out more..." And he's always like, "No, you should go to practice. You'll have so much fun." And I'm like, "Okay. I guess so." He's always right. If only I could spend more time with Jeff AND more time at practice. But I always want more time regardless.)

I'm also pretty enthused about the friendliness of my teammates. I've always had friendly teammates, but a couple girls I'm just always happy to see. Like Marley. We're kind of alike, I think, wanting to smile and wave and laugh and whatnot instead of doing aggressive things for warm-up. Or Taki, who is just so nice, but in a funny way, not a boring way. And Annie, my new friend from MOMS Club, who mentioned she wanted to play, met with the coach, got skates, and carpools with me. I like a friendly rollergirl, it's true.

My first bout in ages, nearly two years I guess, is this Saturday. We're playing a team I've never played before, and we've got some girls injured so we'll be short on players, and I'm still not fast and sometimes nagged by that old, awful joint pain, but I'm still SO excited. I don't care whether we win or lose (sorry, teammates, if you're reading this, of course I want to win, oh-so-badly); I'm just so excited to be skating again and hitting people every week and subtly displaying my arm bruises at moms' club events and 100% loving roller derby instead of 50% loving/50% thinking, "Hmm, should I quit? Maybe I should quit. No, maybe it will get better." It has gotten better. I've found my team!

Some conversations about hair

Me: I'm thinking about getting my hair cut short again. It kind of seems straggly.
Jeff: What about putting it in a ponytail?
Me: I try that, but the ends are still all, like, straggly. It doesn't fall right.
Jeff: What if you got the front part cut shorter... and maybe the back is still longer?
Me: Oh, yeah, I see what you're saying. "Party in the front, business..."
Jeff: Not what I was getting at, but that would work, too.


Me: I'm sure glad that Matthew's past that stage where he sucks on my hair every time I'm holding him. It was kind of gross always having a wet patch on the side.
Jeff: Yeah, now you're not like that weird girl in fifth grade who always sucked on her hair.
Me: Hey! I was that weird girl!
Jeff: It's okay. I used to suck on my arm hair.
Me: WHAT? Really?
Jeff: No.

A small annoyance

So this is one of those things that sounds so stupid when you say it out loud, but it is so annoying to me!

Children's books.

Let me explain. I like to read. I firmly believe that reading is a great way to learn and grow and develop academic skills you'll need for the rest of your life. But I also think, mainly, that reading should be fun. Fun! We all love fun, right?

Well, apparently a big selling point of children's books is that they're educational. I've come to this conclusion by reading the covers of the books we have in our living room (don't want to look at the ones in Matthew's room - sure it's more of the same).

Just a quick sample of some book blurbs from the books I have within reach:

• ...there are all kinds of textures for baby to explore in this safe, sturdy book that encourages early learning.
• The best-selling preschool learning program that develops your child's vocabulary and pre-reading skills.
• Parenting Tips: This book will help your baby explore and learn language!
• The Flip Flap series is a fun and exciting way for children to develop their reading skills...
• Books for Brainy Babies from Newborn to Six Months
• Dear Parents, Babies aren't just irresistibly adorable. They have amazing brains that soak up knowledge, doubling in size during the first twelve months... What's important is for your baby to hear language––as many words as he or she will sit still for.
• Parental Guidance: Promotes hand-eye coordination. Encourages interaction.
• A bright and colorful introduction to the world of numbers for young children. Open-ended questions help children work out basic mathematical concepts.   

RAWR. Some of these things, what do they even mean? Pre-reading skills? What's that? Early learning? How is that different from later learning?

I really appreciate Sandra Boynton, "Serious silliness for all ages," and Dr. Suess, "Simple, Silly, Sturdy Books for Babies of All Ages." (Not sure why they both have "all ages" on their board books, but whatev.)

Let's just save all of this worry about achievement and learning and getting ahead and studying for later on in life. I'm pretty sure if all kids learned to read for fun, they'd simply learn better through reading in the long run, because they'd keep reading!

Toddler updates

Here are some things the toddler has been up to (we still call him The Baby around here a lot, though this kid is definitely toddling now).

Matthew is afraid of these things: shredder, printer, when the Staples button says "that was easy," being unexpectedly not able to see me.
But he is not afraid of these things: balloons popping, other sudden loud noises, dogs, dunking himself completely in the bathtub or kiddie pool by accident, falling directly on his face.

Also, he's not walking like a zombie anymore. He moves his arms like a grownup person. A wobbly grownup person, yes, but still, no more toddly zombie arms.

Matt's success of the week is that he has finally stopped crying when we go to the gym and I leave him in playcare. He loved it in January, but then I had to take a break for surgery, and he cried every time I walked out of the room for three weeks after rejoining. We went almost every weekday for all of April, and finally he likes it again! Three days of no crying now. And yesterday, he didn't want to leave when I went to get him!

New fascination: Airplanes. Matthew will hear an airplane and get really excited. He makes a particular happy sound when he hears them. If we're inside, he'll walk or crawl over to the window, look out, and point at the sky. If we're outside, he'll whip his head around trying to find it in the sky, holding his arm out toward it and making his happy noise. Yesterday we saw probably six planes. Jackpot!

New hobby: Walking, walking, walking. Walking in circles while holding toys. Walking around the house to check on everyone, especially if we're in different rooms.

But... when we're outside, my definition and Matt's definition of going for a walk are very different. Mine: One foot in front of the other, moderate pace, destination in mind.
Matthew's: Step, step, sit down. Look at ants. Poke with finger. Get up. Step. Sit down. Pick grass and put in mouth. Get up. Step, step, step, step. Point at neighbors and screech loudly. Try to walk up hill. Fall on face. Giggle. Get up. Step, step. Grab leaves on shrubbery. Smoosh in grubby little fist. Drop on sidewalk. Sit down. Grab leaf again and pull apart. Poke with finger. Get up. Look for airplanes. Sit down. Try to pull hat off. Get up. Step, step, step. Turn around. Walk really fast all the way back to where we started. Pick up stick. Put in mouth. Wave stick wildly... You get the point.

Some climate-related crying

Yesterday we had some crying around here. It's just now starting to be summer. Matthew is the easiest baby ever to take care of, I'm sure, but yesterday afternoon was rough. He was screechy in the car then cry-y and fussy at home. He didn't want to be held or not held, he didn't want to be inside or outside, he didn't want to eat or sleep or quietly rest or walk around.

And, of course, it happened to be the day that Jeff went straight from work to softball, so he wasn't even going to be home before Matt went to bed for the night. So after trying all those things to cheer up Mr. Cry/Fuss Baby, unsuccessfully, of course, Matt just sat in his high chair and screeched at his spoon and refused to eat, and I just sat in the chair next to him and cried for a little bit. You'd think I was crying because he was unhappy and oh-so-loud, but no...

Because it's hot! It's SO HOT HERE! I HATE it. I've never been one to hate weather. As a kid, I always felt tricked when people asked me my favorite season - because I like them all! I love them all equally! Why should I choose between fun snow and fun sunshine and fun raking and fun mud puddles? They're all great.

But now, oh, how I hate the "seasons" in Alabama. I think I have that seasonal affective disorder (is that the name?) but for summer instead of winter. Last year, I think we were trapped in the house for like 3 weeks straight because it was just too hot for a newborn outside. And when we did go out, one day one of our neighbors made some mean comment about how you shouldn't take a tiny baby out when it's 100 degrees. But, you know, the alternative was NOT MAKING IT THROUGH THE DAY. I'm trying to not let it get me down, but it's difficult. I really, really hate how hot it is here. And summer's just beginning. And if I think ahead to all the years we're probably going to live here and all the days it's going to be hot, hot, hot, and all the other climates we could be living in but aren't, I kind of get overwhelmed and just want to cry.

But today, thankfully, it's raining, so we'll make it through a little longer.