My latest theory of overwhelm-ness is that when I was home with her I at least got some (day)time to myself during nap time and then when Matt got home I didn’t feel as guilty about checking out for a few hours and letting them play together. Now after work it’s harder now than when she was little and I was working (or perhaps just challenging in a new way) because she is so much more interactive and DEMANDING. And whether this is a by-product of her being with me all the time to all of a sudden not, or whether it would have just happened anyway, she is absolutely obsessed with me. The second that she sees me doing something that does not involve her (i.e. making dinner) she throws herself around my legs crying at the top of her lungs, “MAMA HOLD YOU MAMA HOLD YOU” (we’ll work on pronouns some day). I say to her, Bug, Mama is making dinner. I can’t hold you right now. But this usually just makes her cry harder and often results in her lying on the floor in distress. So I pick her up and continue to make dinner. What else am I supposed to do? She doesn’t want Matt. The only thing that possibly distracts her from me is turning on Elmo or Super Why, and I don’t want to get in that habit, either. I want to hold her, too, but I also want to eat. I guess the point is that she drains more out of me in twenty minutes than she used to do in an hour. And then she goes to bed and Matt and I are left to stare at each other and eat chocolate chips. I love that she’s a good sleeper, but our lives essentially stop at 7 p.m. after she goes to bed. Sure someone could go out somewhere, and often times someone does run to Target, but it’s not really the same. And then we get to the weekends and I want to have family time, but I also want to have a break, and then I feel guilty for wanting a break when I haven’t seen her all week, and it whines on and on. WHINE.
I feel much less connected to her and her progress now as well. It used to be when she had bad days I had much more compassion and understanding about it (compassion to myself, mainly) because I knew that there had been a stretch of, say, three days prior when she had been doing really well. This weekend she was really, really struggling, which sucked, and which I felt completely unable to process or handle. It left me frustrated and withdrawn. And now she’s back at day care today and I’m left with another void until next weekend when I can be with her for an entire day (the evening is a bad gauge – she is often wobbly at night no matter what).
I don’t know if there is a quick solution to this. Matt says that he would work at night, but then I feel like an unfair burden is being placed on him to have to work that much. To me it makes much more sense to share something like that. He would argue that it would alleviate this other burden that I feel. I guess I get that, but I don’t know if I really want him gone all the time, either. It’s a tricky, slippery slope.
California in general is fine, I guess. I have a different perspective on it now that I’m working, and I am seeing much less of it during the week. The weather has been crap the past few weeks. It’s been warmer in Minneapolis.
Here is a recap of San Diego so far, adapted from an email written to a friend:
- There are gobs of people everywhere.
- The drivers are horrible.
- The homeless people are extra crazy (and extra plentiful).
- No one rides public transit to commute, except, it seems, for me.
- It’s weird to live in a tourist destination, and deal with tourists.
- The fact that they tell you not to go in the ocean 24-48 hours after it rains wigs me out a bit.
- Everything is outside, including every mall I can think of, except one, which is gross anyway.
- The Jews are all up in La Jolla, which is decidedly not where we live.
- I love Balboa Park and living in the city.
- I don’t really associate with the “Navy community” especially now that we don’t live in housing and I’m working again.
- I miss living in the Midwest at least once a week.
- Even at the exchange, gas is $4.50 a gallon.
- Being away from family sucks.
- The newspaper here might as well be written by kids from Bug’s daycare, so we subscribe to the LA Times.
- I have yet to determine the difference between Vons, Ralph’s and Albertson’s. I’m sure there are both obvious and nuanced differences, much like Cub, Rainbow and Byerly’s.
- It appears the first question Trader Joe’s executives ask themselves when planning a new site is, “Will this place have horrible parking? Yes? OK, let’s build it.”
- There is a tremendous difference in temperature if you head just 10 miles inland.
- There is also a tremendous difference in temperature if you’re sitting in the sun or the shade. It could be a cool 60, but if you sit directly in the sun you will have both a sunburn and a vigorous sweat in 20 minutes.
- The most the weather people have to talk about here is clouds.
- Minneapolis has Sven. San Diego has Dagmar. She is a babe.
I think I’m training for a marathon now but I haven’t decided for sure yet. I’m running like I am, but haven’t forked over the obnoxious entry fee. Originally my friend and I were going to run the Ojai marathon because it looked pretty and was less expensive, but then we realized that after the logistics of getting up there and the hotel, just paying the entrance fee to run the one here would actually be less. So we’ll see. It’s on June 3. I run during lunchtime, so I’ve been able to maintain like 30-35 mile weeks, and my long run right now is only at 15.
The running out here is pretty spectacular. The temperature could not be more perfect. The mornings are in the upper 50s/low 60s, so you’re usually set for a comfortable 7am long run in a t-shirt and shorts. And depending on where you choose, you can either have a flat-as-a-pancake route, or you can climb urban mountains. Where we live now is quite hilly, and I have enjoyed becoming a much stronger hill runner. My butt looks phenomenal, and almost does not fit in some of my pants (seeing as how they were purchased when it was still flat-as-a-pancake). Matt wants to know if maybe my boobs can run some hills and see some of the same results. “Har har.”
Bug was finally prescribed glasses at her most recent eye appointment (and first with the new doctor out here). I wasn’t able to go along, but Matt said that he liked him, and she apparently was the most cooperative that she’s ever been (and seeing as how she’s been going since she was about 5 months old, we have a lot of visits under our belt) and he got some great measurements. When we finally made it to the glasses store, I was worried we’d have to go with the “special kid” plastic flexible frames… but thank goodness she’s so big, because we were able to choose from the next size frames, which were exponentially cuter, and not special-looking whatsoever. I was also worried that she wouldn’t want to keep them on, seeing as how her favorite game is ripping my glasses off of my face. Her eye doctor in Minneapolis (who I still call regularly with questions) said if we were really struggling they could prescribe dilating drops so that her vision would be so unbelievably terrible with them off, she’d want to keep them on (in theory). Luckily we didn’t have to go that far. When we got home from the eye glasses shop last week, we told her she could watch Elmo (SUCH a special treat in the afternoon) if she wore her glasses. She let us put them on, and then sat with her jaw gaped open staring at the screen, like she had never really seen Elmo or Abby before. It was hilarious but also made me want to cry. What has she also been missing?? (I will tell you: the whiskers on Matt’s face when he skips a day of shaving, the texture of some of our shirts) I know that the reason she didn’t have glasses before has nothing to do with gross parental negligence and everything to do with the fact that her prescription wasn’t strong enough (they wait until there’s a considerable correction, all in the goal of convincing wee ones to keep the glasses on). But still. It’s hard. Everything about everything is hard.
I was curious to see how the glasses might affect her walking. Secretly, yes, there was a part of me hoping that the glasses would be some secret panacea and after putting them on, Bug would suddenly be able to stand on one foot, climb stairs upright, run with reckless abandon and no longer be sent home from daycare with an almost blackened eye and an incident report stating that she was, “walking and fell over into the wall.” Alas, nothing magical yet.
SPEAKING OF INCIDENT REPORTS. I got a call late last week from daycare. I hate it when I miss those calls. You see the number, you see the voicemail, and you hold your breath at what is waiting for you. Did she throw up? Does she have a fever? Did she break something? Do I get to leave work? Did you find a winning Powerball ticket stashed in her diaper??
Worse. All worse. It was the day I had been dreading. Someone bit her.
When asked for details, the teacher was frustratingly vague. They wouldn’t give me the assailant’s name, only that “one of [Bug’s] friends bit her.” There were teeth marks on her back, she said, but no broken skin or blood. They applied ice, which Bug was apparently fascinated by. I was more concerned about how it all played out. Were they going for the same block? Did Bug jump in front in line for the slide? Was this a new anger method she was going to add to her carnal yell and the ripping off of the glasses?
Apparently Bug and this “friend” were quietly playing when the “friend” climbed on Bug’s back and then bit her. I know she’s big, but what kid could actually climb on her without knocking her over? Was it a bitty visiting from the infant room (there are a few groups all transitioning to the next rooms, including Bug)? Daycare was tight-lipped, probably to avoid Mother Confrontations. The best thing, I guess, is that there was no fight, and Bug seemed relatively unfazed by the whole thing. In fact, she made no mention of it that day, and has not attempted to bite since. Whew.
We started swimming lessons two weeks ago. The first one went great. The second one went OK. She doesn’t love the feeling of water in her ears when she’s on her back, which is exactly what the teacher told me would probably happen. So after she gave me one good back float at the beginning of class, she refused the rest of the time. Also, she may have accidentally gone underwater, umm, twice. My Mother of the Year badge has already been revoked, so there’s no use in reporting this one, too. They were all sitting on this foam raft, and since there were three times as many kids this week than last week (when it was only Bug and another girl) there was less space and more instability. I was trying to let her get on by herself, since that’s what all the other kids were doing (as opposed to iron-gripping her the whole time… I mean, she has to learn confidence) and I looked away for like ONE SECOND and I see her tip to the side and completely fall off the raft into the water. It was like every time she’s on the playground and falls over except this time I actually was concerned and grabbed her immediately and brought her back up. After we got her hair and the water out of her eyes she looked at me like someone (me?) had just slapped her in the face. Oops. Although it could be argued that she had to go underwater at SOME point, right? She was a really good sport about it, though, and the teacher even did the “Ring Around the Rosie” song one more time so Bug could get an actual raft ride in.
The second time (am I even admitting that this did in fact happen a second time? I am) we were practicing sitting on the stairs in the water and then “jumping” from them into my arms. Well at one point instead of standing up and going forward, she slipped, and just sort of fell face-first into the water six inches from my fingers. It’s a good thing that there were 25 people around the edge of the pool all intently watching their child/spouse combo, in addition to all the people next to me already in the water, to see this happen again.
OK, so this picture may have been taken before class really even started, which is why we look so happy.
We are eagerly looking forward to our next visitor’s arrival on April 5 (Emily!) and then hopefully my parents can come again at the end of the month. Bug turns 2 in TWO WEEKS. OMG WTF. No, I have nothing party-related planned whatsoever. And without a Byerly’s, she may be saddled with a homemade cake.
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