Feed, Sleep, Love

I’m going to talk about my life during the past 9 weeks since my daughter was born. Although I am writing about motherhood, I am not an expert and do not necessarily think you should follow anything I say in any way, shape or form. There are so many mommy bloggers who speak like their methods or experiences are gospel. I believe no such thing, but I hope nevertheless that this offers you some moderate entertainment. 

Check out my sweet socks! 

Maternity Leave

So, I’m a bit hyperactive and I was very worried that I would be bored during my maternity leave. I suggested to one of my coworkers that I would be willing to do work during the leave and know I would have plenty of time to complete various tasks. She looked at me half agreeing and half, “There’s no way in hell you are going to end up working during your maternity leave.”

Well, she was right. I have worked a tiny, tiny, tiny bit, but honestly, I have had no time whatsoever to dedicate to work. Taking care of a newborn is a full-time job. 

Your life runs on three-hour never ending cycles of feeding, changing, soothing, cleaning and once in a while sleeping.

Feeding

Before I gave birth, I told everyone that I didn’t care if I breast fed or not.  I said I would try, and if it didn’t work out, so be it. However, in the end when I couldn’t, I was hysterical.  As soon as my baby was born, I was put on a regimen as follows: breast feed for 20 minutes, pump for 20 minutes, and give formula for 20 minutes  - she was a month early so she had to be fed formula, no matter what.  

Well, my milk never came in. I did this for a week, and when I brought her to the doctor I was exhausted, and she hadn’t gained enough weight. The doctor wouldn’t tell me outright to stop breast feeding, but he said, “You look miserable, she isn’t gaining weight, and if you haven’t gotten your milk in, you probably won’t.” So I talked to a lactation consultant, took some vitamins, massaged my boobs, kept up with the regimen for 3 more days, and then after looking at my minuscule supply after pumping, I threw in the towel. I needed to concentrate on getting her weight up, and I couldn’t do that and continue that schedule.

The thing was that I did care. I cried like, well a baby, I made my husband take back the pump to the hospital the second I gave up, because when I looked at it, I couldn’t stop crying.

To this day, I feel guilty that I am not breast feeding her, especially because she is having some digestions issues. But, I have for the most part gotten over it, and it helps that my husband can feed her, too.    

One long, big brain fart

I never believed the pregnant/new mom brain. I actually thought it was sexism. However, it has happened to me. I’m slowly starting to recover, but it’s been really brutal. I would say though that 99 percent of it is just from sleep deprivation. I’m a history teacher, and the other day I couldn’t remember several of the Vice Presidents’ names. I couldn’t believe it.  I thought I would catch up on my reading. It turns out the only thing I have an attention span for is reality television. If you saw my DVR right now, I wouldn’t be able to look at you in the eye.

A gift from my Aunt

Sleep deprivation

Before I had my daughter, everyone would say, “Sleep nowwwwwwwww, you won’t be able to once the baby comes.” I found this annoying, because you can’t give yourself a sleep savings account. However, I will say, as I said before, the effects of sleep deprivation have affected me physically and mentally.

I often have no idea why the hell she is crying

They say babies cry for three reasons: they are hungry, need their diapers changed or are tired. Well, I can tell you there is the fourth reason, which is a total mystery and you just have no idea and have to just bounce and sway and say shhh and pray that it stops.

Finding mommy friends helps

I have had four new moms come into my life since my daughter was born, and I am very grateful. Let’s face it. You can only talk to your friends about poop, spit up and skin rashes for so long, even with people who have children. However, if you are friends with someone else who has a little baby, you can have those conversations for hours and it relieves anxiety (and causes some too). I always thought I would have riveting conversations with my friends and not just be constantly talking about my baby. I was totally wrong. I can spend 20 minutes talking about formula and poop. There's a new Pope? Can he make my baby poop? Well, then, I don't care. 

Here are a few other tidbits I have learned over the last 9 weeks:

•   The car seat is heavy as hell. It helps to attach it to a stroller.
•   After pregnancy, there is a lot of bleeding. I never knew that. And it’s gross.
•  Friends and family who said they are so excited for the baby to come and will be over all of the time to help, probably won’t. People are busy with their lives, and don’t expect more than a couple of visits.  I wish I had been a little more realistic. Just appreciate when people do come over. 
•   When people offer to bring you food, TAKE THEM UP ON IT.
•  It’s almost impossible to lose baby weight and get your body back like the stars do. I’m only 5 pounds away, but my body is just different. So don’t buy US Magazine that shows new moms in bikinis at the beach - unless you want to use it to line your diaper pail.
• Not all babies poop every day.
•  Babies don’t sleep all day.
• The pediatrician’s office sounds like a house of horrors.
• Feel free to say no to hand-me-downs.
• Swaddling works.
• Cutting their nails is really challenging but necessary. 
•  Writing than you notes for gifts is really hard, but people want their thank you notes. The greatest gift you can give to a new mother is to say, don’t write me a thank you note. (However, to the 55 people who I just sent thank you notes to, it was my pleasure and thank you for the gift).

Love

Shark Attack! 

I have to say, I never realized how much I would love my daughter. It’s an overwhelming amount of love that I have never felt before. I feel this weird sensation like she has always been a part of me, only I just found her. I don't know how I'm going to go back to work, I am so attached,  and that's never something I ever thought I would feel. (Nor is it an option, really.)  She has been my greatest gift in life next to my husband, who has been an amazing dad. I am very lucky and very blessed. 

Butterflies vs. Basketballs

Today I officially entered some scary new realm of adulthood when my husband and I paid $55 for a Costco Membership.  I don’t think either of us really knows if the cost is worth it, but the other hundred thousand or so people who all seemed to converge there today must think so.

This also is my first official piece writing in the mom genre, as I am, knock on wood, soon going to be parent in the next few weeks. (If I were me 10 months ago, I would promptly stop reading right about here.)

So I sent my husband to find 500 rolls of toilet paper while I looked at baby clothes. Yesterday, I read that a baby can go through 3 outfits a day, and I have about 6 on hand (thanks Samantha and the Chacham family), partly due to procrastination and a little due to superstition.

We are also trying to take a minimalist approach to the baby. We live in a comfortable, 2 bedroom condo. However, it does not lend itself, and neither does our budget to buy everything on the Buy Buy Baby registry list.  (Traditionally, Jewish people don’t have baby showers, although today, many do).

As I searched for the clothes, I encountered a problem. We didn’t want to know the sex of our baby. We aren’t militant about it, if a doctor or nurse slipped, we wouldn’t care that much, but we don’t really care about the gender so we’re going for the surprise element. So the problem? The clothes are really gender specific not just by design, but with phrases like, “Daddy’s little lady bug.”

So then I started to think about my own gender biases. Why don’t I buy all the pink princess butterfly and the dark blue baseball truck driver onesies and put it on my kid, no matter what the gender is. What do I really care? It’s just clothes.

Can a baby girl wear this? 

But I couldn’t do it. So I looked again for gender neutral clothing, and sort of found some, but I think they are actually for boys because they are blue. And then I heard a voice of an old person saying, “Why are you dressing your baby like a little boy?” But I bought them anyways. The kid needs to be dressed.

So today I bought clothes with cute monsters, ships and sea creatures on them. The one with ships says, “My Little Captain.” If I have a daughter, and she wants to be a captain of a ship, I’m totally cool with that. In fact, I’d be impressed.

The big wardrobe question will come when we do know the gender. Just go to Carters.com. You have two choices: baby boy or baby girl.  So will I buy the bright pink My Little Kitty Princess Fairy Gear that says “My Little Angel” or the football NFL logo black velour “Number 1 Draft Pick” onesie?  

Or will I be too tired to care?

I know, I know, this should be my biggest problem. Besides, my nieces love princesses, fairies, and Barbies, and they are awesome kids.  

But my gut just tells me that I don’t want to foist gender stereotypes on my child, at least during the first week of its life. It’s not like I’ll refuse gifts of frilly dresses or masculine shirts. But it’s just not me to buy them, at least not yet. Would I feel differently if I knew the gender? I actually don’t think so, but I could be wrong.

I’d like to end with the most ridiculous passage I read yesterday in the book “What to Expect the First Year” about getting gender neutral clothes for your baby:

“If you haven’t learned the gender of your baby through prenatal testing, don’t buy everything in yellow or green (unless you’re crazy about those colors), particularly since many infants don’t have the complexion to carry off those shades.” (Page 43, 2003 edition)

Well, if the baby can’t pull off its yellow onesie, I’ll just call “What Not to Wear” and get their advice. I’ll put their number right next to poison control. 

Are Teachers in Israel Armed?

For the third time on my Facebook feed, a friend mentioned that Israeli teachers are armed in their classrooms. I know this to be untrue, my Israeli husband says it’s untrue, but I figured, what the heck, I will ask Israelis who I know who are geographically and politically diverse who live in Israel right now whether or not teachers are armed.

The media claim that Israel has armed teachers stemmed from the Sandy Hook tragedy two weeks ago.  There are those who claim that to save our children from the mentally deranged, we should arm our teachers, just like Israel does.

Only in common practice, Israel does not actually arm its teachers.

What propelled me to email Israeli friends just to make sure is that today’s source of the misinformation is located on Fox News web site and is written by a freelance journalist who lives in Israel, giving the piece some unfortunate credibility. And even more disturbing, 1.8 million people liked the article on Facebook.

I’m not sure if the author intended to be misleading and hysterical or if it was the work the editors at Fox News.  The headline reads, “Armed Teachers, Guards Bolster security in Israel.” In addition, the article is illustrated with a horrible AP photo of kids in Israel wearing gas masks, which was probably from a drill at some point.

The photo is classic sensationalism and out of context. The headline, as the article somewhat details, is just not true. This is somewhat admitted  by the author himself, although his explanation is totally contradictory and the sentence is pretty meaningless, “And the idea of armed teachers in the classroom, which stirred much controversy in the wake of the U.S. attack, has long been in practice in Israel, though a minority of them carry weapons today.”

So what did my Israeli friends say?

I can't say I recall seeing any teachers with guns on them in school. Many have licenses to carry them because they live in occupied territory but I don't think they walk around armed...- Vivian, teacher and mother of school aged children, Kiryat Gat.

I work at a school - teachers don't carry guns in schools.-  Omri, school administrator and father of school aged children, Jerusalem

As far as I know and from our experience, teachers in Israel are not carrying guns. – Sarit, special education teacher and mother of school aged children, Lachish

From my experience as a student in Israel- we didn't had any teachers with guns in school but I'm assuming that in the West Bank there are more people with firearms license and some of them are probably teachers. -  Hila, cultural emissary, Tel Aviv.

What an outrageous lie!  Teachers do not carry guns. - Sarah, curriculum writer and mother of school aged children, Modiin.

I have never seen a teacher carrying a gun in school in my life – Shlomo, MD, PHD, Jerusalem

Totally disconnect from reality. Anyway, I am not aware at all of such practice. Sounds to me like science fiction. – Yariv, businessman, Bazra

No, teachers in Israel do not carry guns. – Michal, educational tourism, Tel Aviv

The one thought that a lot of people who wrote to me had was that maybe teachers in the West Bank (Judea and Samaria) carry weapons because there are more threats there. I only asked one person who lives in a settlement there and he responded,

“Most teachers in Judea and Samaria don't carry guns in school,” Aaron, tourism, Ofra.

So what is true? What is the law?

In Israel, if a teacher is given the authority by the municipality and the Ministry of Education, he/she can carry a weapon in school. However,  that permission is given in very rare circumstances, so much so that the people I talked to are not even conscious of the possibility.

Every Israeli school has an armed guard, this is true, but the James Bond teachers are part of a mythology being spread currently by the NRA and news outlets.

Israel has a lot to offer to the United States, especially in technology and medicine. However, looking to
Israel to help us solve our school shooting problems is just not the answer, even if it gets your article likes on Facebook.

Click below for:

The article that motivated this post

The Israeli law regarding guns in schools (in Hebrew) (Thanks Hila)

An article in the Times of Israel about the reality of guns in Israeli schools (Thanks Sarah) 

Real Housewives Confession

I need to confess something to my readers, friends, family and colleagues.

I watch a few different versions of Bravo’s Real Housewives. I think some of you may be surprised, just like you are when I’m not very good at Words With Friends. Before those of you who loathe the shows judge me, I am in the process of serious self analysis as to why I’m so enthralled with these very wealthy, very dysfunctional women.

And I am not alone. “Real Housewives of New Jersey” was the number one searched item on Yahoo on Sunday and Monday. It also was the highest rated t.v. show last Sunday.

So what is the appeal? I have not always been a reality t.v. junky. I’ve never really watched Dancing With the Stars or American Idol. I never watched Survivor or Big Brother. I did watch a couple seasons of the “Real World,” specifically the season with Puck and the one that was filmed in Chicago when I rooted for the Jewish girl on antidepressants.

But in the last year, I’ve been drawn to the Real Housewives. Why?

The answer, quite honestly, is the conflict. I have conflict envy. While I spend most of my life avoiding and preventing conflict, on these shows, the women are rewarded when they scream at each other, almost get violent, throw furniture, etc. If I acted the way that they do, and sometimes I would like to, I would have no family, no friends and no jobs. The louder they scream the more popular that they are.

Two of the screaming housewives. 

Watching other people say whatever they like, whenever they want to, is somehow cathartic for all of the viewers who have to live in the real world and can’t (and probably shouldn’t) say what’s on their minds. If I were paid a few hundred thousand dollars to act like a maniac, I probably would do so, gladly. I don’t know that my mania would rise to the level of the Real Housewives, but write me a check, and I will tell you what I really think about you.

So I will continue to lose my brain cells every week to watch these nutty women, even though I’m not proud of it. If you plan to confront me about it, please have Andy Cohen on hand to facilitate.

Holla. 

How Facebook almost Plunged me into a Deep Depression

I’ve been a little depressed lately, and I’m embarrassed to admit why. But we are on the internet, right, so I have to come clean and tell you everything I’m thinking even though it’s trivial.

 The cause of my depression has been Facebook. For the past six weeks I have been posting, and no one has been commenting on anything I’ve posted. If I write a blog, and post the link on my Facebook page, not that many people have been reading it.

 My first thought was that I had reached my social media peak. I was over the hill, no longer of any interest to my Facebook friends. Perhaps, I thought, since getting married in March, I had stopped being interesting, and had just faded into bulk of 30somethings who had settled down instead of being known as my fun, quirky, single self.

I thought about quitting Facebook, but I thought to myself, if no one has any interest in what I have to say, I still have interest in looking at the cute pictures of friend’s kids, the funny post cards that sometimes give me a chuckle, and sometimes don’t.

 Still, I felt rejected, dejected.

 Yet I persevered and still posted.

 I posted a picture with the comment, “Hello from the desert,” a status thanking everyone for their birthday wishes, an announcement that I was heading to Gay Pride Parade, a Cubs Game with my Dad, and Sixteen Candles. And also I wrote thoughts that before June would have been abuzz on my wall. I wrote comments about hot new topics the health care law, a Florida lifeguard fired for drowning, the pregnant Yahoo CEO, an idea about the electricity problems on the East Coast.

 Silence.

A picture I posted that no one liked on Facebook 

So in my state of rejection, I dramatically decreased the number of status updates. I turned to another social media site in my hour of need, Twitter, and sometimes heard from my followers there. However, most of my followers on Twitter aren’t my friends, and so the feedback just wasn’t the same, although it did get me through the darkest of social media days.

 I also received some self esteem boost when I posted as the administrator for my company’s Facebook page. There, my posts were liked, commented on and shared. But on my personal Facebook page, nothing.

The last straw was yesterday. My husband and I are selling our bookcases and I posted them on Facebook. No one said a word. I was just really surprised because I know a lot of people are moving and they are great book cases. So I turned to my Facebook gurus/addicts the 20somethings in my office.

Now here’s the thing. I hate to even say that, because it makes me sound like the old fogey who doesn’t know how to use Facebook. But I swear I do. I am actually quite tech savvy. So the two 20somethings checked their Facebooks and noticed that they didn’t receive the bookshelves post. Then they commented that they haven’t seen me post anything lately.

Together, we checked my privacy settings to find out that I had somehow set it to only post to one friend.

I had been cutting down trees in the forest and no one was hearing them fall.

This discovery was embarrassing, we got a good chuckle, and we changed the setting. They gloated in the way that I have many times when I have helped an older person with a computer problem (although geeze, I hope I wasn’t as obvious).

 It still isn’t working properly, so I’m going to have to manually select my Facebook statuses for everyone to see. And yes, while it is ridiculous that I thought not one of my Facebook friends “liked” me anymore, it is sometimes like me to go to the glass half empty pretty quickly.

 I know - this whole post is ridiculous in its entirety. Why should I care if anyone “likes”, comments, or shares what I say? Because let’s face it. We are all validated by Facebook in some way, otherwise why would anyone use it? Everyone likes a little attention, even if it’s virtual, and we all enjoy our small piece of fame one click at a time.

 Like?

Special Place in Hell for Rielle Hunter

Last month I wrote about disgraced former presidential candidate John
Edwards, and honestly I didn’t think I would be writing about him
again. But here I am.


Or more specifically, this is about Rielle Hunter, his infamous mistress.

I wish I was less schooled on the details of Ms. Hunter’s life, but
she has been on every “news” program this past week and I honestly got
caught up in her story.  She is promoting her new book "What Really
Happened: John Edwards, Our Daughter and Me."

Ms. Hunter has made the talk show circuit obviously to promote her
book, but also, she says, to tell the “real story” of her affair with
John Edwards. She wants people to understand that John Edwards wife,
Elizabeth was not a “saint” and John was not a demon. She says that
their marriage was bad way before she came along, and that she should
not be viewed as a home wrecker.

Ms. Hunter has apologized not for the affair, or as she says, not for
loving John, but for duping the American public when she went along
with the scam that John Edwards perpetrated that Quin was not his
daughter.
While the numerous talk show hosts have asked her “tough” questions,
they still have maintained an aura of objectivity and dignity during
the interview. They have tried not to seem judgmental.

But Ms. Hunter deserves a wrath of judgment.

My problem with her is not that she had an affair with John Edwards,
although that is certainly distasteful. Nor that she had unprotected
sex with him, for that she is stupid. But her crusade to parade around
the world bashing a deceased woman (Elizabeth Edwards), promoting her
own lies and infidelities, and causing more humiliation for John
Edwards children in the so called pursuit of the truth is just
disgusting.

I wish Ms. Hunter would have just been frank with all of her
interviewers to say, “I wrote this book because it’s salacious and it
will sell millions of copies. I need/want the money to support my
daughter. Even if the contents (none of which are really new) are
hurtful to the Edwards children, including my own daughter, everyone
has to make a living!”

Instead she sits disingenuously in interview after interview trying to
elicit Sympathy? Empathy? Understanding? None of which she deserves.

Ms. Hunter has said that she wants to change the way people think
about her from mistress to mother. I think she will always be
remembered as an insincere opportunist who failed miserably at her
attempt to be celebrated for her sins.

And I predict the person who will sit in judgment of her one day will
be her daughter.

Two new blogs

I have not been writing enough! It's been a busy couple months, but no excuses. I have had two articles published in OyChicago. One asks the question How could Cate Edwards stand by her father at his trial? The other recounts a crazy flying experience.  Thanks for following my blog, and I'll work on being such a slacker. But you know what I've been doing in my limited free time. Writing Thank You Notes!  Have a nice weekend.