Oh Gawd, It was Horrible!

So, I had told myself that H going to daycare was going to be good. I vindicated myself and proved it to myself based on the first visit to daycare. She was intriqued, reserved, but curious. No tears, checked out this new world. I thought once she went to daycare, it'd be all sunshine and rainbows...a rainbow of happiness would arc over the Peanut House. The birds would chirp, the sun would shine. H would be getting out in the world, seeing babies. Mama would be seeing adults, sanity would come to the house, and somehow the housework would get done. I justified my spending 60% of my take home pay on her learning and growing in better hands than mine, stupid first time mama that I was, at least on 3 days a week.

Oh. Dear. Gawd. Today was horrendous.

I took her to daycare to visit again. She was clutching me the whole time. She wouldn't not touch me no matter what she did. I tried to put her in the chair table to eat a fabulous cookie. Sobbing. Sobbing so much that no sound came out and spit cookie fell down her chin and down her outfit. Hysterical. I even tried the "when she sees me, of course she's mad" logic and took to leaving her for 2-3 minutes. The one woman sat there and talked to her, but I could hear her all the way down the hall.

I have never ever seen my daughter so unconsolable. You could tell she was looking around and saying "What the hell did I do to deserve to go back to the orphanage?" Even at home, she clutched to me when I went to put her down for her nap.

Can I do this? I know the arguments for it. Can I break the bonding that we have gotten, for so little money? I'm seriously considering not, forfitting the cash in the DCA account, and staying with my little girl. I find I don't care about the stupidity of the office. I never ever thought I'd be a stay at home mom...but should I for a year or so? Would I be breaking my father's trust, letting down my coworkers of 12 years that I didn't fess up to this before?

I don't know what to do. I'm just sick of crying about this every day...

Fu*$ing Guilt

So....Thursday, my mother comes to see Uber-Peanut. She plays with her, distracts her during a conference call, all is well, in mother-daughter land, relatively speaking.

Then, when I come down from my conference call, she lays the wammy one me: You shouldn't send H to daycare. (It's going to be 3 days a week.) She's too wobbly. You'll be lucky she doesn't come home with her head split open. She's going to be broken-hearted. She's going to feel betrayed. She's going to come home hungry, cause other kids her age can feed themselves better than she can. My Mother says she can "usually" watch her one day a week, but can't promise the day, but wants me to cancel a day of daycare, AND make my office bend to that schedule. (Ummmm...my kid needs consistancy too!) My mother thinks that because it is my father's company, this is acceptable. It's not like we have clients or anything that depend on us, now is there?

I brushed her off that day. That night, I got in a huge fight with my husband, cause I feel like dirt. I worry that she's going to be in a crib crying because she's afraid to go to sleep in this new place for her nap. I'm terrified that she's going to choke, or go hungry. I'm scared that she's going to bale out and conk her head on a toy shelf or something. I'm scared that she's going to sob for me for a day, or that she's not going to care that I left. I'm scared the little baby kisses that have started to come, open mouth slobber and all, will stop.

And I'm pissed that my mother did such a mind-fuck on me. I know that's what it is. But I'm terrified to leave her there. I know it's a good place. I know she'll be fine.

But, why am I crying about it? Even now, 4 days later? Am I wrong for promising to her to always be there and then leaving her 3 days a week?

I can't stay home all the time, honestly, I need a break every once in a while. I love her to death, but I love my job (not always the people at Happy Workland, but that's another story). I love having more to me than sippy cups and diapers to discuss too. I wish I was that person, but I can't be. I thought I had a great compromise worked out. I guess not.

How bad a parent am I going to be in a week and a half?

New Post Below...

Hey everyone...read below, but Judi...the quake was 5.2...huge for us flat-landers here.

My step-aunt was almost a pancake in the bridge collapse in SF, left work early that day for some reason, otherwise, she'd have been there...that's what made me freaky freaked by it.

We haven't felt any of the other aftershocks, thought there was one in the 4 something range.

I know...we're pussys.

I reject your offer and demand my original "requests"...

That is what my daughter said to me this last weekend (sorry, the laptop became a doorstop, so it went to the laptop doc for a few days) in her little "raise an eyebow, baby gibberish and squeal": Herbed Chicken and Pasta?! Spit. Vegetable Chicken?! I snear in the general direction of the jar. Meat Lasagna? Hah! You must be kidding simple minded crazy red-headed woman! Oh, and don't even talk Peas with me woman!

Or maybe she said that she knew where Hoffa was buried...one of the two.

H decided that she is no longer a baby and therefore will not be labelled as such by this community that labels people...and she is burning her little baby-bra by refusing that slop that we had apparently been feeding her.

Soooooo...you ask what I did? Well, after pointing out to her that she still adored the baby fruit (she raised an eyebrow at me like "you really want to drag this discussion down to this level? Well, give me them apples and cherries first, woman.") I started to cook. I anticipated the day that this may happen (and thought a 14.99 or so investment might get Murphy to smile on me) and had ordered a baby cookbook the week before.

Yes. Me. Skillet in one hand, whisk in the other. (OK, I love to bake, the whisk has been seen before...but the skillet?!) I crafted a shopping list and sent the husband off to the store. Yes, I've become June whats-her-name, but I still avoid the grocery store (SuperTarget I'll tolerate though). I made chicken and sweet potatos and grapes. I made fillet of cod in a cheese sauce with broccoli, carrot and peas. I made cod with tomatoes and zucchini. I'm going to make chicken, apples and some other veggie tomorrow. I'm almost out of plastic storage containers. My freezer is starting to look like a storage bin for someone fearing the end of the world is nigh...

And she loves it. She slurps it down. She still wants to know where her steak is, but we need a few more teeth for that (we got #6 in really well now.) So, I guess baby gets what baby wants...

And my husband? The one that has had the honor of me cooking for him about 15 times in the last 12 years of marriage? He's smartly keeping his mouth shut. Even when I did part of the dishes...he smartly didn't say a word.

The Bed was rocking and rolling...

Hah! Got your interest there, didn't I? Don't you remember that I have a new peanut-ette in the house? Get your brains out of the gutter (and all the rest of your body parts).

Diaper rash? Gone. Rash on back? The new topic du jour. No idea why. It's icky looking, but getting better - red but I don't know if that's from H itching against the highchair, but I think red blotches with whitehead zits in the splotches. She looks like a bear marking her territory when she's in the highchair or the pack n play. If I didn't want to cross the border of creepy, I'd post up the pic I took for the doc on Tuesday and get an opinion from y'all.

Oh, and the bed??? Yeah...we had an earthquake. Well, technically IN did, but, well, they are friendly folk and they like to share. About 4 years ago, P swore he felt the 4 that was down by MO and I thought he was crazy...we have an armoire, big heavy wood thing, and one door has a 1/4 inch give on it, and he said that it shook...well, last night we both sat up in bed and heard that door going for at least a good 10-15 seconds. I didn't sleep after that for awhile. One of the reasons I cite to not live in Kal-i-forneea (though it'd be cool to hang out with Judi) is that I don't want to be swallowed by the ground. I've lived in this major metropolitan area my whole life (yes, I've gone to CA and lots of earthquake places for vacations a lot, but well, I can't explain it - it's not a phobia, just a preference to not be swallowed) and now twice? Sorry, this is too much for me...do I have to move to Canada?

Dear Fisher-Price Disembodied Voice Lady...

Dear Fisher-Price Disemboidied Voice Lady-
I'm sure you are a very nice person. You sound like it. Heck, you are willing to sing to my daughter for hours longer than I can...

But, for God's sake...you have to be a millionaire by now. Do they pay you by the song? Do they have a little counter chip in every stinking toy that Fisher-Price has made that counts how many times our children hit the green piano key? And the horsey cell phone button? And the round green one? And the slidey one? F-P has to be a billion dollar company, so you must be a millionaire by now...

Please, for the love of sweet baby Jesus...for your extensive body of high-quality work in the kiddy entertainment area, and I do love you for the hours of delight my child has gotten, I think you should get a Tony, or an Emmy or whatever, for all that money, why, for the love of everything holy can you not record more than 6 damn songs? Seriously lady, my ears are bleeding. Really, can't you anty up 3 more 30 second songs? Is it beyond you? Or are you too fat on your millions from the chip in my kids piano?

I seriously considered chewing on some of her blocks, hoping for some lead poisoning or GHB mixture thing happening by every Thursday afternoon.

Thank you for considering my request.
Sincerly,
ISO(In)Sanity

The Good, The Bad, and The SIL

I've learned a mama-lesson...laugh at me if you want, that it took this long: One day to the other means nothing. Absolutely squat.

H had her birthday party Saturday. 18 adults, 2/3 of whom she knows to at least some extent, some she sees on a regular basis...the rest she'll see on a regular basis once we don't have the artic tundra outside our front door...and about 7 kids, 2-7. She power napped for 20 minutes during it, and it got her thru. She enjoyed the attention, etc etc etc...all in all way better than I thought she'd do!

Sunday...she's standing next to a chair, lets go with one hand, then the other. I'm happy, I've been working on her standing with her. Then the left foot goes forward, then the right, then the left...poor E kitty, she thought that being 4 feet away was a safe zone! Yes...H took her first steps. We did it many times that day. She was squealing in pride...mama realized that she wasn't a baby anymore...

Monday...wakes up, ok, doing her thing. Breakfast, a bit fussy, but still ate. Tried to walk again with her - ballistic, foot stomping tears of fear. Try to lay her down for a nap. She went ballistic...Hunan China ballistic. She had a puddle of tears in her crib 3x7" in less than 2 minutes as I tried to rub her chest and calm her. Hysterical, back arching fits. Only napped for 20 minutes. Woke up clingy, sobby, angry. Stayed that way. Same thing with the 2nd nap...hysteria. Mama sang, rocked, patted, soothed. Could have cared less. Woke up even more angry. Mama called Dada and begged him to come home early. Then, when the garage door rolls up...giggly baby. She melted down about 45 minutes later and then P looks at me and says "what's wrong with her?" I said....no the last 45 minutes were "what was wrong" - this has been my day. He looked at me with pity in his eyes.

This morning? She's fine. She's still somewhat clingy, refuses to walk without holding on to me, not because she can't, she won't. But willing to do it with 1 hand. But, she only freaked for about 2 minutes when I laid her down.

So, what gives? Teething? She's had one hand in her mouth continually. The mother of the preemie twins came to her party, even though her husband and son had had a 36 hour thing that included vomitting...H did urp up more than normal (ie usually never), but did not vomit...split personality??? I'm hoping to take her out for a few errands this afternoon - get her out of the house. Maybe that will lighten the mood.

OH, and of course, the SIL. First off, the IL's are going to be here this weekend. We'll see how that goes - they've been good with us lately, but I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. 14 years of history can't be forgotten that quickly. But the SIL, the best Auntie in the World. Not only did she still not do anything but tell us that she has a present for H (cause y'know - UPS for 5.95 is too much to blow), but has also asked us when we are coming down South with H to visit. What happened to "I want to see my niece so much"? "It's so hard to wait this long for my niece - tell China to speed up, it isn't fair."???? She can't get her ass on a plane and come up with Mom and Dad? P is right, it's best for me that she isn't coming :)

I'm Jet-laggy...

Somehow, I've become jet-lagged again! I'm so tired, I can't even tell you! And then, ever stinking night, I wake up around 3am, and I just can't go back to bed. I'm not even really thinking about anything in particular, I just...lay...there. Last I checked, I haven't taken any Asian flights in over a month, yet I'm having more jetlag now, than when we came back with The Peanut.

Sooooo....what's new in life? Well, in homage to Family Guy, I've got a lot Grinding my Gears...

• The SIL? The Peanut's Birthday? Nothing. Nada. Zero. Not a peep, not a card, nothing. Witch. Good thing that her "Aunt of the Year" jacket was backordered.
• Early Intervention. Hah. I should have known better than to willingly engage a government organization! I always...always...come away just thinking "let me at this place for a month - I'll straighten these morons out! Sooooo...basically, I'm a first-time parent, totally uneducated in a book sense in child development. What's the first step of EI? Send us a 5 page survey and have US evaluate the child. Then they decide if your kid is messed up enough, or if the parents are too stupid to fill out the form, to come out and actually look at the kids themselves with their educated eyeballs. I don't think H is bad. Her balance stinks, and she can't feed herself squat. But, hello....if you went to college for this, would you maybe notice that she drags her foot, or rolls it to the outside, or turns her head to look at things in a way that triggers something in your brain, but doesn't in my highly-educated political science brain??? Hummmmm...novel concept.
• My agency? The 1 month meeting we were supposed to have on all the "once you get home" adjustment stuff AND paperwork hell? Haven't even gotten a call. My SW is also supposed to check on us by the rules of our state. She emailed me 1 week after home asking to send a pic if I get time...said she wanted to talk "sometime this week." I emailed her that Friday, she said she "just wanted to check in." Did I ever get a call? I wonder if she's written the 1 month report already, cause, really, seeing the kid is just a formality! Well, I've already got her readoption in works, her CoC is of course hopefully being worked on, and I've got 2/3 of the damn EI evaluation form filled out. (But I have news for them - I refuse to teach my child to throw things for their stupid checkbox...dada has a flatscreen and baby has some hard toys - we're not going to teach that pony that trick.)
• Mama was promised a pedicure. This spa that I have a gift certificate from last August for - they have cancelled 3 appts on me over the last 6 months. I was just pissed.
• Husband: Does he look at the food stuff I've pulled out for The Peanut's party Saturday? No. Sometimes, I leave him to play with her in the morning, to bond with her. He has her at her piano toy, and he's reading the business section next to her. Hello?!?!
• My clone at work?! He's telling people he doesn't know why I'm going to bother to come back...he has it all under control. I'm sorry buddy, but I designed all those systems, and you've already messed with one website I told you that I was having someone else cover, and you are forgetting stuff, and you aren't cc'ing me...you are smart, but you are 21, still want to be a rock star and 5 other professions...I don't think we'll be putting all those eggs in your basket. Bite me...I'm still the web goddess, don't fuck with me. I will put you down.
• I can't even watch the news anymore, I'm so pissed off at this housing thing...now there is a bill in Congress to give judges the right to reduce your mortgage, change the terms of your mortgage etc etc etc...hello? We were qualified for more money than we spent, and we felt a smidge on the high side, but we knew we'd be ok, it was a confidence thing. We looked at the in column and the out column...and figured it out. And I've never been late, and I always pay something extra...what part of "lowest percentage rates in 35+ years" did you not understand when you got that ARM mortage? What part of "adjustable", "balloon" and "interest only" (don't get me going on that one - rent with property tax.) did you not compute in your head? What part of the spreadsheet made sense when they let you refi 125% of the value of your house when every stinking anyone who watched this stuff was using the words "housing bubble"? Why do I put my nose to the grindstone (and my husband's nose and his ass), work hard, only to get bumped to the next tax bracket and pay for more of your stupidity? I am seriously not a republican, I get and support a lot of social programs in our country, but, seriously, at some point, some people (and not all people in this situation are these people) need to learn their lesson the hard way. Sorry, but I just see how hard my husband and I worked...school, grad school, eeking bills during that time, using our noggins on waiting for kids (yeah, that burned my butt), scrimping and saving, not letting cc companies give us 15 credit cards, not taking all the money the bank would give us for a house...not putting in granite counter tops, not eating out at a ritzy restaurant every week...you know...common sense stuff, and sometimes you just get sick of it. This country has a problem with personal responsibility sometimes.
• My mother keeps telling me that I shouldn't be feeding my kid "all these new foods." I was chastized for giving her homemade vegetable lasagna. Yeah, with all that good stuff in it, all crumbly and chopped tiny. She got to mess me up - she's got to leave me alone to mess up my kid! And if she says to my kid one more time "H, hold on...mommy...oh, gramma is going to get you a xxx in a minute", I'm going to bitch-slap her. I think she can figure out at 61 that she didn't go to China to bring home this child!

OK, I'm done...thanks for letting me vent. Hopefully they won't cancel my pedi on Thursday, and my kid will break that molar in the back, and I can sleep thru whatever storm we have tonight.

I haven't posted any pics of H's bday, cause, well, I have family in the pics, so I'm going to wait till the party this weekend. I'm all about the asking to post people, and I don't want to open that can of worms, cause they don't know I hang out with y'all.