Alan's 2 Month Apppointment

Alan is two and a half months now, but he just had his two month appointment yesterday.

His stats are: 10lbs 15oz, 25" long, and 15.75" head circumference. He is in the 25th percentile for weight and the 95th percentile for length. What a tall, skinny boy! If it's right that you take the 2 month stats and multiply it by 3 to get how tall the child will end up, Alan will be 6'3" tall when he's done growing.

We are following a modified vaccination schedule. He will not get any more than two shots in one appointment, but will have to go more frequently. He got two vaccines at this appointment - Hib and Prevnar. They are both for bacterial meningitis, and the Prevnar is for ear infections and pneumonia also. As a result, he was fussy and clingy most of the day yesterday and had a fever of 100.4 at one point. We gave him some generic infant Tylenol yesterday evening, which seemed to help. His temperature was back down to normal this morning when I took it.

He's growing like a champ, and I will be glad when some of the big milestones are hit. Everyone says that time goes by so fast and they grow up too fast, but I wouldn't mind skipping this stage to get to the "good stuff." I can't wait until he can 1) hold his head up consistently (he's doing some now, but still bobbling), 2) sit up and be more interactive with the world, and 3) eat solid food and no longer has to have breast milk.

Three years old is my favorite time. Anastasia was the most adorable child at three. Garrett is three now and is so much fun. Three-year-olds can play, carry on conversations, use the bathroom, sleep through the night, and really have a personality. I don't want to wish Alan's life away, but I can't wait until he turns three.

Here's some of Alan's two month pictures:


Here are some links to videos of Alan interacting at two months:
Alan Standing
Alan Talking
Alan with cousin Lily

Out of a Funk and Into a Routine

I have finally admitted to myself that I do have a little bit of postpartum depression. It stems mostly from the fact that my life as I knew it is over. I will never again have freedom and youth at the same time, and I will never have the body that I worked so hard and ran five marathons to finally have. Sure, eventually Alan won't depend on me for everything, but by then I will be too old to enjoy life the way I had before. Sure, I might be able to get back into shape, but I look in the mirror and it seems that every day I see a new wrinkle or darker circles under my eyes. Age is really taking it's toll on me now. And who knows if I'll ever get my waist back! I feel like I am a stick figure...but drawn with a really fat marker. I have no curves (except for the one sticking out in front where my six-pack used to be)...or maybe my whole body is one giant curve.

I have no time for myself anymore. I wake up, take three hours to get ready for work, go to work, manage to fit in a short run before picking Alan up from daycare, and take three hours to get ready for bed. How people have families and still manage to watch hours of TV is beyond me! I still haven't watched last week's Biggest Loser (really my only TV show), and we have two Parenthood shows on the DVR that we haven't watched yet. And I am only getting about 4 - 5 hours of sleep at night now - and that is broken sleep (two hours here and three hours there).

Running just doesn't seem as fun anymore. It's more like a chore, because it is way harder than it used to be. I never thought that getting back into running after a six week layoff would be so hard. When I run, I feel like I don't really know what I'm doing, like I don't have a good gait or cadence, like I'm about to fall over. I have felt like I couldn't finish a run multiple times. I've stopped to walk more than I ever did before. What is wrong with me?!?

And then there's the constant desire for sugar. If I'm not eating, I want to be. My mouth waters, and all I can think of is ice cream. If ice cream isn't around, I'll eat a giant chocolate chip cookie, or a package of Skittles, or a candy bar. I tried bringing healthy snacks to work, but then I would eat the healthy snack AND the junk. I have no self control. What is wrong with me?!?

So now that I've finally admitted it, I have to do something about it. For me, the best way to accomplish something is to 1) set a goal and 2) get into a routine. My goals are as follows:
*Run the Myrtle Beach marathon in close to 4 hours. I'm hoping that with that will come the losing weight and getting my body back into somewhat decent shape again.
*Fix my diet by exchanging the junk for vegetables. I will add back the salads and baked potatoes I used to eat while pregnant. I will only eat one small sweet thing per day. If I maintain that for the week, I can eat ice cream on Friday. Every time I have a craving I will either chew gum or eat a fruit or vegetable.

My routine has become:
4:00am Wake up to pump
4:30 Shower, eat breakfast, and get ready for work
5:45 Feed Alan and get him ready for school
6:20 Leave for work
6:40 Drop Alan off at daycare
7:00 - 3:00 Work, eating lunch at my desk and pumping four times
3:00 Run or workout
5:00 Pick Alan up from daycare and go home
6:00 - 8:00 Pump, make dinner, feed Alan and get him ready for bed, wash and make bottles, get workout clothes ready for the next day (All of this is easy if Rob is home to help; Much more difficult if I have to watch Alan while doing the above things by myself)
8:00 Get ready for bed
9:00 Attempt to get an hour of sleep
10:00 Feed Alan and pump
1:00am Pump
4:00am Start all over again

What a boring life I lead! No wonder people live for the weekends.

Back to Work

Alan is 8 weeks and 1 day old today, which means Mommy has to go back to work.

I have mixed feelings about going back.

We've had some problems this past week with him eating. He doesn't want to eat the whole bottle and will wiggle, cry, and push the bottle away in the middle of his feeding. We tried burping him and warming up the bottle again, and he is just not taking it. It's frustrating when he had been doing so well before. It used to take any where from 15 to 30 minutes to feed him. Now if we're lucky he'll eat the whole thing in an hour. Most of the time, he refuses to eat the last little bit, so we're left with an ounce or so. Now that I'm back to work, someone else has to deal with feeding him most of the day.

On the other hand, it is so hard to leave him. I've been with him for the past eight weeks, pretty much 24/7, and now we'll be apart for at least 9 hours each weekday. I miss his precious little face and how he smiles and giggles at me when I change him. I worry that people who are taking care of him might not do the best job.

But it will be good to get into a routine. I haven't really had that while I was out. I will be able to run and workout before I pick him up from daycare. I'll be able to go through my day and only have to deal with pumping, instead of worrying about how I will find time to pump because he took up so much of my time.

This morning was rough. I had to make sure I had everything to be away from him all day. I had a checklist a page long of things I had to load up into the car and take with me, some to leave with Sherry and some to take to work with me. I ended up leaving 45 minutes later than I had hoped to leave. So tomorrow I'll have to get up 45 minutes earlier - getting only 4 hrs of sleep instead of 5. I guess at that point, one hour probably doesn't make much difference.


Daddy taking Alan for his first day at school


Alan in his classroom on his first day


Mommy with Alan's teacher, Tamara


Alan's cubbie. He has three classmates

I've been having some personal issues lately. Postpartum depression? I don't know. So many things are happening at the same time. I have to go back to work and leave Alan. He isn't eating well. He isn't sleeping as long as I'd like at night. I can't fit into hardly any of my clothes, so it's a struggle to find something to wear to work. Because of that I feel like a fat slob.


Rob knew I was having a hard time the first day back, so he brought me flowers at work

I basically just have unrealistically high expectations of both him and me. I wanted things to be close to normal when I went back to work. I guess I'd have to stay out another year or so for that to actually happen. And what is "normal" anymore anyway?