Now that my son is just five months, I was thinking that he may actually get on some sort of schedule, after a week of analyzing his routines I realized he is on a schedule, just not one that I would choose.
His day is like this; eat, play, sleep, play, eat, play, sleep, play, eat, play, sleep. The eating is about ten minutes, the playing about an hour, the sleeping about a half hour to forty five minutes and then the playing another half hour.
You can only imagine how much fun this is for me, the mother. A schedule that repeats itself every two hours and twenty minutes, it is enough to drive me mad. The good thing is that it is very predictable. The bad is, well, having to change activities this often makes me feel like I am running a triathlon. Until the end of the day when I literally collapse into bed and begin the night routine.
The night routine I have yet to surmise, as when I should probably have it figured out by now, I am always sleeping when I could be observing. And with good reason. Besides having little Mendel, I have two daughters.
Although I am having tons of fun with this motherhood business, I do sincerely wish nap time would last just a bit longer.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
You're so WHITE
One of the pitfalls of living where I live is the Marshall's store about a minute from my home. Whenever the mood strikes I find myself desperately needing to go there to buy whatever I've been missing that week; a retractable strainer, a throw pillow, a white t-shirt for my daughter, a pair of flats, cuff links for my husband, a tablecloth liner etc. Sometimes I just go there to browse, as sifting through the aisles, even if I don't buy anything, is very therapeutic.
Part of "getting back to myself" after giving birth to my son was making a trip to Marshall's. He was about three months old and I realized he had no pajamas. Needing some urgently I made a trip. Upon coming to the children's section I remember thinking to myself that I would for sure find something as it was the beginning of the fall season and their selection of clothing was plentiful.
After rummaging through the mounds of boy's clothing, I found nothing. How surprising. But at the last second, I grabbed a cute little knitted outfit that would be perfect for synagogue on the High Holidays.
As I wait in line, wondering if there was anything else I could have came for, I am called by the next cashier; a plump, short Indian woman with thinning chin length gray hair and large picture-frame glasses from the 80's. She glances at my baby and asks me "are you Jewish?"
Taken aback I reply, "yes, are you?" She chuckles, obviously she is not Jewish, but hey, it is a humorous thought. She then goes on to tell me that she knew I was Jewish because my baby is so WHITE. Completely astounded by that comment, wondering what she could be getting at and making me wish I had just left without a purchase, she continues her brilliant observation saying that Jews are so WHITE and remain so WHITE because they only marry each other.
My answer to her was precisely this, "mmmhmmm..."
Now that I am reviewing this conversation in my head, I just know that a great reason for Jews to marry each other, and I would share this with anyone that might consider an alternative, is so that their children will remain so WHITE.
Part of "getting back to myself" after giving birth to my son was making a trip to Marshall's. He was about three months old and I realized he had no pajamas. Needing some urgently I made a trip. Upon coming to the children's section I remember thinking to myself that I would for sure find something as it was the beginning of the fall season and their selection of clothing was plentiful.
After rummaging through the mounds of boy's clothing, I found nothing. How surprising. But at the last second, I grabbed a cute little knitted outfit that would be perfect for synagogue on the High Holidays.
As I wait in line, wondering if there was anything else I could have came for, I am called by the next cashier; a plump, short Indian woman with thinning chin length gray hair and large picture-frame glasses from the 80's. She glances at my baby and asks me "are you Jewish?"
Taken aback I reply, "yes, are you?" She chuckles, obviously she is not Jewish, but hey, it is a humorous thought. She then goes on to tell me that she knew I was Jewish because my baby is so WHITE. Completely astounded by that comment, wondering what she could be getting at and making me wish I had just left without a purchase, she continues her brilliant observation saying that Jews are so WHITE and remain so WHITE because they only marry each other.
My answer to her was precisely this, "mmmhmmm..."
Now that I am reviewing this conversation in my head, I just know that a great reason for Jews to marry each other, and I would share this with anyone that might consider an alternative, is so that their children will remain so WHITE.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
What's Your Pain THRUSHold?
The saga begins with burning breasts. And I mean burning in the sense that deep in your breasts you are having deep contractions, similar to the ones you have when you are about 9cm dilated. Serious, serious pain.
I contracted thrush, which is a fungal infection to the nipples and often to your child's mouth probably within the fist few days of my milk "coming in." My nipples looked like minced meat and I was having trouble nursing, my baby was crying and my breasts were hurting. Once I got him eating properly (which is a story in itself in another post) I realized my thrush was so bad that after feeding him, especially in the morning, I would lie in bed for about a half an hour and "recover." It was TERRIBLE.
Here are the tried and true remedies and cures. Rinse your nipples after each feeding with apple cider vinegar mixed with water then follow with a spray of sovereign silver (colloidal silver) and then smear on coconut oil. Swab baking powder mixed with some water in the baby's mouth after each feeding to normalize the PH of the mouth. Also take acidophiles, biotin, and put a bit of acidophiles on the baby's tongue once a day. Remove sugar and yeast from your diet, and for sometime also remove carbs.
The treatments were all wonderful, however, my thrush was so bad it was DEEEP inside the breasts, in the ducts. So deep in fact I wished I had a stick to reach inside and itch and relieve the pain. So I called my midwife who put me on diflucan (floconozle) the dosage that worked in the end was 200mg-400mg to start and 100mg each day there after for 10 days.
On the anti-fungal medication, I literally felt the fungus MOVE OUT OF MY BODY and within two days nursing started to not hurt. I was amazed, wished I had tried this sooner.
Now in retrospect I realize a few things. After giving birth and the stress of trying to get back into the swing of things, having your life just like you want it, and with no sleep, causes your body to react. Mine reacted to the stress of a newborn with a thrush outbreak. After all the medications and remedies, it is clear to me that this was indeed thrush but it was also my reaction to the stress, making it that much harder to clear up.
SO RELAX! Do all the above and try to understand that until your baby is three months old there is NOTHING to talk about when it comes to feeling like your old self again.
A visit to my chiropractor helped as well.
I contracted thrush, which is a fungal infection to the nipples and often to your child's mouth probably within the fist few days of my milk "coming in." My nipples looked like minced meat and I was having trouble nursing, my baby was crying and my breasts were hurting. Once I got him eating properly (which is a story in itself in another post) I realized my thrush was so bad that after feeding him, especially in the morning, I would lie in bed for about a half an hour and "recover." It was TERRIBLE.
Here are the tried and true remedies and cures. Rinse your nipples after each feeding with apple cider vinegar mixed with water then follow with a spray of sovereign silver (colloidal silver) and then smear on coconut oil. Swab baking powder mixed with some water in the baby's mouth after each feeding to normalize the PH of the mouth. Also take acidophiles, biotin, and put a bit of acidophiles on the baby's tongue once a day. Remove sugar and yeast from your diet, and for sometime also remove carbs.
The treatments were all wonderful, however, my thrush was so bad it was DEEEP inside the breasts, in the ducts. So deep in fact I wished I had a stick to reach inside and itch and relieve the pain. So I called my midwife who put me on diflucan (floconozle) the dosage that worked in the end was 200mg-400mg to start and 100mg each day there after for 10 days.
On the anti-fungal medication, I literally felt the fungus MOVE OUT OF MY BODY and within two days nursing started to not hurt. I was amazed, wished I had tried this sooner.
Now in retrospect I realize a few things. After giving birth and the stress of trying to get back into the swing of things, having your life just like you want it, and with no sleep, causes your body to react. Mine reacted to the stress of a newborn with a thrush outbreak. After all the medications and remedies, it is clear to me that this was indeed thrush but it was also my reaction to the stress, making it that much harder to clear up.
SO RELAX! Do all the above and try to understand that until your baby is three months old there is NOTHING to talk about when it comes to feeling like your old self again.
A visit to my chiropractor helped as well.
Monday, August 10, 2009
The Hospital
I was actually amazed at the hospital's meals. I was always under the impression that it is a place that helps make people better. As in health-wise better. As in helping people make the best food choices so when they go home they are somewhat wiser, and therefore will become healthier.
However at meal time we were offered, high fructose corn syrup apple juice, corn syrup orange juice, caffeinated coffee. NO vegetables. The fruits were nicely waxed apples and oranges, not quite the freshest you've ever seen either.
I had ordered the Kosher Meals. When given the choices for breakfast, either scrambled eggs with literally freeze dried carrots and peas, or an omelet that looked older than I was, or french toast, with a dark corn syrup dip, that looked as though it would bounce if I threw it on the floor.
I know that the food is outsourced and the hospital can't actually control every aspect of everything, but I really feel that there should be healthier choices. Especially when America is going through a huge weight related, unhealthy eating habit crisis. I wonder if they offer diabetics the same foods they were offering me. I sure hope not.
On another note, the woman that was the "Nutrition counselor" weighed about 350 pounds. She came to tell me the choices of meals and helped me "build my diet" for the few days I was in the hospital. It was quite obvious that she was not at her ideal weight. As she came to my room, first on her route, she was huffing and puffing and sweating as well, from her long walk from the elevator to my room. A large plume of perfume preceded her, smelling of the variety sold at the local CVS. I thought perhaps it as out of the ordinary that this was she, however the next day the counselor that visited came in a close second in the weight department.
I have to say I was very cordial as I feel very deeply for someone struggling with weight, as I have had that challenge as well (on a much smaller scale, I might add), however the absurdity and incongruity of it all made me feel as I if I was having an out of body experience that was both comical and sad.
However at meal time we were offered, high fructose corn syrup apple juice, corn syrup orange juice, caffeinated coffee. NO vegetables. The fruits were nicely waxed apples and oranges, not quite the freshest you've ever seen either.
I had ordered the Kosher Meals. When given the choices for breakfast, either scrambled eggs with literally freeze dried carrots and peas, or an omelet that looked older than I was, or french toast, with a dark corn syrup dip, that looked as though it would bounce if I threw it on the floor.
I know that the food is outsourced and the hospital can't actually control every aspect of everything, but I really feel that there should be healthier choices. Especially when America is going through a huge weight related, unhealthy eating habit crisis. I wonder if they offer diabetics the same foods they were offering me. I sure hope not.
On another note, the woman that was the "Nutrition counselor" weighed about 350 pounds. She came to tell me the choices of meals and helped me "build my diet" for the few days I was in the hospital. It was quite obvious that she was not at her ideal weight. As she came to my room, first on her route, she was huffing and puffing and sweating as well, from her long walk from the elevator to my room. A large plume of perfume preceded her, smelling of the variety sold at the local CVS. I thought perhaps it as out of the ordinary that this was she, however the next day the counselor that visited came in a close second in the weight department.
I have to say I was very cordial as I feel very deeply for someone struggling with weight, as I have had that challenge as well (on a much smaller scale, I might add), however the absurdity and incongruity of it all made me feel as I if I was having an out of body experience that was both comical and sad.
Monday, August 3, 2009
The Brisk
It basically was like a bad dream, having conversations in middle of the night, with the uncannily chipper nurses. "What's his name?" one asks. This is at about 4am, while they bring me some pain medication, they feel that it is the opportune time to have a chat. Perhaps I gave off the impression of wanting to have a conversation, although I was bleary eyed, bone tired and could barely sit up in bed. I replied that we didn't know yet, and we'd be naming him on the 8th day. Excited that she knew about this custom, she replies, "OH, You'll be naming him at the BRISK?" I think a for a second that I should let this go, after all it is 4am and I am about to pass out. But the thought of the woman calling a bris, a brisk for the next 20 years beckons me to correct her. After complimenting her on her vast knowledge, I mention that it is actually a BRIS, not BRISK. "Just ending with an S," I say. Oh, she is very excited at her new found knowledge. I imagine her scurrying down the hall with her electronic push cart of drugs back to the nurses station where she will share what she just learned from the lady in 423. The next afternoon, while once again receiving some Motrin 800, the day nurse asks me if I would be waiting to name my son at the BRISK. With no more patience for this matter and convinced that someone must have given a completely screwed up Judaism 101 lesson to the nurses on the maternity floor, I just smile and say "uh huh."
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