I am sure you will all be relieved to know that my son was asleep the SECOND he was strapped into his carseat. And not a moment earlier.
We are breaking up our eastward journey at The Worst Time to Travel by stopping in flat city and introducing Pepito to some of his fanclub members. This is the first opportunity I’ve had to blog or read blogs in a week!
A few things about which I’ve been meaning to blog/beg for advice on:
- Food: How long is too long to eat baby food? Pepito (14 mos) will happily feed himself real food (and has eight teeth to chew it with) but prefers the jarred stuff. He is eating us out of house and home in Earth’s Best. I kind of feel like we should just go cold turkey and let him eat only solid solids. What winds up happening is: We offer him a smorgasboard of Real People Food. He eats some, but not enough to satisfy Pili (usually) or me (less usually). Pili pulls out the jar. I roll my eyes and mutter about serving Earth’s Best at his wedding. He gobbles down the EB. I mutter about how he’s never going to learn to fill up on Real People Food if he keeps eating this stuff. Am I right? Is Pili right?
- Travel: O g-d where to start? Is it possible to travel light with a toddler while flying cross country for a two-week trip?
- Mommy Preference: Despite all my best efforts, Pepito shows a clear preference for Pili. I will be honest – it stings. I worried about this when I thought one of us would be the biomom, but this kind of took me by surprise. I am trying my best to keep trying, and not just to always hand him over when he starts fussing, but damn is it hard.
- P@k N Plays: Why are there so many different models of the damn things with so many different locking mechanisms, and why do they never want to lock when your child needs To Go To Sleep.
- Raspberries: They were funny, once. Now he does them All the Freakin’ Time and can spit up to two feet away. The first time people think it’s cute and laugh and raspberry back at him, but then the spit starts hitting the fan. My son, the llama. What to do? We ignore it, but it’s really hard to get others to ignore it.
Oops, awake baby. More later.
There’s a brown smudge on the toilet bowl I can’t quite bring myself to clean up. It’s not poop, it’s catfood that I flushed down the toilet on Thursday, after Louie didn’t want to eat any of his dinner. He had had kidney problems for a long time, but had been doing well until recently.
On Thursday, we brought him to the vet. On Friday morning, the vet called and said that we needed to talk about Options. On Friday night, my sweet sweet kitty went to sleep for the last time.
Louie was my baby. He was my kitty that I got when Pili and I were first dating, who was never happier than when he was stretched out in my lap, having his chin scratched. He slept on my pillow and let me rest my head on him. When I was sad, I could hold him like a doll and cry into his fur. He “caught” catnip mice and brought them to us, and wouldn’t shut up until you took the mouse and told him what a good hunter he was. When he wanted to sit on my lap, he would put one paw on my leg first. He put up with the other cats, tolerated Pili, and loved me unquestioningly.
He knew me before I was who I am now and losing him feels like losing a piece of myself.
Goodbye LouLou. I hope there are warm laps, bowls of milk, and wiggly bathroom ties whereever you’ve gone.
We miss you so very very much, my loulou patootoo mr. spots. I wish I could have you back for just one more snuggle.
I wish you were here to lick the tears off my face right now.
I have this Thing.
The longer I postpone doing something the harder it is to do it. I think “I should have done that last time I thought about it and what the hell is wrong with me and…” and then (at least this is what my Much Beloved Therapist and I concluded) I associate shame with that task, whatever it may be, and so I “forget” to do it and then the next time I remember it’s even harder to overcome the shame and actually do it. So then when I think “oh crap I meant to do x y or z” I feel even worse, and am even more likely not to do it. Some of the areas of my life where this has impacted me include:
- returning phone calls & emails
- writing my m.a. thesis
- taking insulin (shit, I was going to take my shot after dinner and I forgot and I should do it now, but look at the floor and how dirty it is…)
- returning library books (this one has cost me $$$)
- filling prescriptions & making doctors appts
- and now… blogging
I suppose I could blame my silence over the past few weeks on busy-ness, which is true, but never stopped me before, or on all of you who were doing
nowblowme nablopomo and kept me hopping just to keep up the comments, which I didn’t (more shame) or any number of things, but the truth is, I have whipped myself up past cream into butter. The more days go by, the better the comeback post has to be and the harder it is to sit down and write it. How can I just write about baby food or do a meme when I haven’t written in weeks?
So finally I am blogging about the shame in the hope that doing so will free me up to write about second parent adoption (anticlimax galore, pictures on flickr) and babyfood (please tell me that my child is not the only 13 month old who would rather eat stage 3 purees than finger foods) and meeting bloggers (who I am too lazy to link to) and sick cats and the trainwreck that is my immune system (any other diabeters with lichen planus out there?) and shout outs to bloggers with good news and crappy news and…
And please don’t tell me not to feel ashamed: because then I just feel more ashamed for being ashamed.