DIZMOMMY > April 2014

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April 30, 2014

Why I [KIND OF] Regret Sleep-Training My Baby

Being woken up by a baby throughout the night is a real fear of mine. My early bird schedule does not bode well with interruptions and can transform Dizmommy into Grumpy-Mommy without warning. And when Dylan was born, he wasted no time in showing me the professional disrupter I was dealing with. Like all babies, he wanted to eat, be changed, and party the precise minute I nodded off. So while other moms were cuddling, co-sleeping, and waking up to tend to their babies, I was scheming for a way to get Dylan in an 8 hour hibernation. 

Out of respect for my hyper-paranoia, there was not a single night that I let Dylan sleep in bed with me. Unknowingly rolling over on an 8lb infant? No thanks. And once he lost his “newborn” status at a month old, I promoted him from the bassinet in our room to the crib in his room. Things move fast at our house, especially if you sound like an alien

So I did everything I could to promote lengthy sleep: German bubble baths, massages, rituals, no talking, lights off, swaddles, etc. And at two months old I had the kid knocking out for a solid 6 hours. I was so pleased with myself! And at three months old I surpassed my 8 hour ambitions. I was so happy (and well rested)!!! But there are consequences for what I’ve done, and I didn’t see it coming. 

Because I’ve never been a co-sleeper, I don’t even know how to start. Dylan has been sick the past few days and hearing his cough wake him up in the middle of the night kills me. I want to run into his room, retrieve him, and cuddle. I don’t care how much sleep or sanity those cuddles will cost me, I want that damn baby! But I can’t have it both ways. He sees my bed as a party station and snooze free zone. The kid is just as serious about his sleep as I am, and demands just as much space as I did do. 

So while other parents are co-sleeping with their love bugs and complaining about toddlers taking over their beds, I’m listening to the snores of my militant style sleeper via monitor, wondering what it feels like to wake up next to a baby. And as well rested as I am, I gotta wonder, am I missing out?

April 28, 2014

Having Kids Changes Everything and Nothing at all (Happy Anniversary)

I took a break from work on Friday to celebrate 9 years of being married to this babe. We ditched the kid, took the spare time, and spent it together. I so badly wanted to post a cute photo of us all over social media but as I went through my gallery, it became apparent that we don’t have any recent pictures together- we only have pictures of Dylan. BOOOOOO. And I get it: Dylan is cute; he’s new; he’s fun; he’s all that and a bag of chips; but HELLO! There’s also a husband in the picture (only not). 

“Relationships change once you have babies,” they said. “Kids will change everything,” they say. And you know what? They’re right. Though no one knows just how adding kids to a family will mix things up, the fact is it does. Stress levels rise, responsibilities increase, messes multiply, schedules regularly fluctuate, and a whole new world puts you and your partner through a series of challenges that reveal a set of fight or flight skills you weren’t prepared for (or knew you had). We were together for 7 years before getting pregnant with Dylan and those years were very special. For 7 years we had schedules/habits/expectations that were comfortable and for 7 years my husband was ALL MINE. So fun! 

I feel exceptionally lucky to have the partner that I do. I don’t want to jinx anything but I have to hand it to my baby daddy: he’s the shit. He’s the kind of husband that will open jars, open doors, and drop anything to help me. He’ll clean the floors, take out the trash, and stop at the grocery store after work. He’s good to me and he’s even better to our son (SO NOT FAIR, jk). He’s the kind of dad that will walk backwards with a stroller so wind doesn’t hit Dylan’s face (lol). He makes him lunch, gets him dressed, bathes him, and dotes, dotes, dotes, all the way home. These things sound boring but they actually make life fun.

After 9 years together, reflecting down memory lane now requires a road trip and a detailed map. And after 9 years, I’m just as smitten and happy as always. Some things will never change.

April 24, 2014

Dirty Lowdown Doggies - Saved by Messy Marvin


Disclaimer: Before you begin reading, you should know that I picked out the dog bed from Messy Marvin and they gave it to me gratis. They actually took the risk of me hating the product and writing about it (because I would have). But instead, I fell in love! And I wouldn't make that up if you paid me.   

Before I was a mom to Dylan, I was a mom to dogs. My dainty little weiner dog Liebe, is 14! She was born on New Year’s Eve 1999 and originally named (not by me) “Y2K Katie.” Suge, my beagle, was unplanned. My mother-in-law had a friend whose beagle had puppies and we were “considering” (rolls eyes) adopting one of the females in the litter but then chunky boy Suge cuddled on my lap and I never looked back. He picked meeee! Little did I know that a cuddly, relaxed disposition would later mean lazy and sluggish. Both dogs are obsessed with two things: hanging with the fam and snoozing.

And as anyone with dogs will tell you, they are a lot of work. Mine in particular take great joy in acting a fool. I’m not kidding- the first walk we go on post-bath is spent trying to convince them NOT to rub themselves all over the grass. They have zero respect for cleanliness and shed profusely. It didn’t bother me pre-Dylan but now that there’s a 1 year old running around acting a fool alongside them, the mess is a constant struggle. But YAY! I have finally found a bit of relief and all it took was a dog bed. 

I can’t say how much money I’ve wasted on beds for my sheddy, furry children over the years because up until I got this Messy Marvin bed, none have survived past the 2 month mark. These rat-dogs don’t even deserve their new bed! It’s luxurious. It’s stylish. It’s HUGE. It is indestructible! The other day I brought a vacuum to it. I don’t even know if it’s even technically safe to do so, but I did. And guess what? It literally picked up dirt I didn’t see until the fabric became lighter in color. (Told ya, they’re disgusting!) It gets better…the fabric prevents stains and has lead-free PVC backing so there is NO WAY liquids can seep through. The only way this could get better is if they made baby products from the same materials. 

OH SNAP- THEY DO. Messy Marvin’s entire schtick is based on the fact that children are messy. It’s the sole reason mommy (and Messy Marvin’s founder) Rebekah Woodard came up products that could get messy without being dirty. In other words, she’s one of us. There are bibs, diaper bags, changing pads, sofa covers, even a mat to put on the ground during feedings or craft time. I can’t express enough how much easier this one product has made my life- it has literally eliminated so much mess with its durability and resistance to my dogs’ shedding. My only complaint? Dylan loves the bed too and insists on sitting, jumping, and lounging in it, with the dogs. Is it crazy to buy my son his own dog bed? Because I’m considering it. 


April 23, 2014

My Son Looks Like a Bum - Get Used to It



 
A while ago I wrote about Dylan’s hobo hair and how I was going to fast track a haircut to get the situation under control. Well uhm...that didn’t happen. Instead, I filed the scissor date away in the “follow up” corner of my mind where all the other to-do’s go to die. At first I convinced myself I was “too busy” to make time for slashing those precious baby locks, but as the comments about his hair’s length continued to pour in from family/friends/strangers, I realized four months had passed. 

Last Friday, Dylan made a friend at the park. The two boys were side by side, playing/avoiding each other when suddenly Dylan’s small fry companion became entranced with his hair and began petting Dylan's head. I laughed while Dylan ran away from baby hands and I realized I have a problem: I’m somewhat pleased with the side show that is Dylan’s mane. Though I fantasize about the cool, polished, clean-cut style he could have if I bucked up, stopped resisting change, and cut the dang hair- but I can’t do it... I love crazy head.

Slashing off Dizbaby curls prompts a panic attack, as I envision cute little strands of heaven laying on the ground post scissor, only to be swept up and thrown away like common trash. (Overdramatic much?) Since when is a haircut such an emotionally loaded experience? I mean, it’s merely a trim and yet I treat the wild, unruly, ever growing mop as if Dylan is Samson and all his powers will be lost once we leave the salon. I don’t want that kind of blood on my hands! 

So NO! There will be no trimmy-trims in the immediate future. There will be luscious hobo locks flowing freely in the wind atop my 1 year old’s head. Because quite frankly, he has a lifetime of haircuts ahead of him and I’m in no rush to let my wittle baby grow up. Keep ‘em young and the hair long! …Cause mommy can’t let go.