If This Were a Paid Job, I'd Be So Fired

I had this idea that "someday" when I was home with kids that I'd have all this time to write a fantastic blog that everyone would want to read.  I also figured my house would be soooo clean and I'd have a picture perfect dinner on the table every night and serve it in some hot looking outfit with my hair perfectly curled and make-up on.  I'm dying laughing right now.

I'm eighteen months into stay-at-home-dom and eight months into motherhood and I feel like have NO TIME!!  Case in point - this blog is taking me like, four weeks to write.  I'm just barely getting to the point where there are more days in the week where I get dressed in anything other than the exercise clothes I throw on in a foggy stupor as I stumble out the door for the morning walk the dog and baby both expect.  I haven't been to the hair salon in TEN MONTHS.  I'm lucky if I get one small or medium sized chore done every day. I'm usually pretty good about dinner, but not always.  My poor, poor husband.

I'm working to get everyone on a set schedule and that has made a big difference.  Baby may not sleep through the night (another post for another day) but he naps like a rockstar and usually at the same times.  Weekends are hard because we always get off the schedule and then Monday's are work getting back, but it's the only thing I've found that helps me get ANYTHING accomplished.  Sometimes "anything" means lying down to watch an episode of Fringe, other times it's accomplishing a lot of things for a two hour period of time.  It seems like I go every other day where productivity is involved.  One day I sit around like a slug and the next I manage to clean, grocery shop, shower, cook, make the bed and do some laundry.  The day of productivity usually takes me three or four days to recover from and then we're back to the beginning.

Hopefully things continue to go more smoothly so that someday we might even consider adding another baby to the mix.  We originally thought we'd wait the required year and then go for the gusto but that year is quickly approaching and holycrap I can't even think about another baby without having a panic attack.  Mr. S is getting busier by the second and the thought of adding to that just seems like a bad idea.

By way of random catch-up I'm proud to report my spousal unit was recently given a huge promotion at work.  It's exciting for his career and exciting for our bank account  because it turns out that making one income work after so many years of two isn't fun somuch.  Hopefully we'll be able to start saving again and I can get my hair done once in a while without feeling like I need to offer to sell my breastmilk or something.

The boss-man is still an amazingly good baby and there has only been one day that was so hard I wanted to quit.  He smiles and laughs and, for the most part, entertains himself.  He's mostly a Mama's boy but he really loves his Dad and is OBSESSED with Watson.  I'm sure his first word will be Puppy. He already says Mama but with no connection between the sound and me, so I guess I don't really get to count that.  So far, no stranger danger whatsoever and he smiles and coos at everyone he sees.  We took him to Disneyland and that was a HUGE hit (I'll try to write a whole post on that adventure here soon) both with him and everyone who saw him.

He continues to grow like a monster.  At his six month appointment he was 19lbs 15oz and when we went back a month later for his second flu shot he was already 22lbs.  He's still nursing every four hours or so and also eats solid foods three times a day.  So far the ONLY thing I've fed him he's not a huge fan of is green beans.  He wolfs everything else down and in addition to the pureed stuff I make him he's getting his little pinch down and can eat finger foods as well.  Next week I'm thinking I'll introduce meat...I'm sure he'll be in heaven.

As I mentioned he's still not sleeping through the night and I'm pretty sure he's in the eight/nine month sleep regression that comes with trying to crawl, pull up and the devil of babyhood, teething.  We've had a few particularly hard nights this week and the bragging rights I used to own to never having bags under my eyes have been rudely taken from me and I have begun to look like the walking dead.  In two weeks I have a girl's weekend in Vegas planned and my Mom is watching him for me.  I'm still debating as to whether I'll leave him for one night or two (I'm more worried about me than him, honestly) but either way I'm praying that I get at least one good night's sleep for the first time in what feels like a decade (but is actually a year).

I feel like the update on me personally is mixed in with the other stuff up there.  I do love love love being a Mom and I'm pretty grateful that I get to stay home and witness every moment of this little guy's amazing life. Sometimes I feel like I'm living Groundhog Day and I'm really looking forward to my weekend break but I really wouldn't want to be anywhere else doing anything else.