I came up with the most brilliant idea. I still have to work out the logistics, but I’m going to start running home from work. It’s a distance of three miles. If I change at 4:30 and hit the door at 4:35, I should arrive to pick up E around 5:15pm, which is only ten minutes later than if I take the bus. Look at me, slipping in a workout AND outdoor time AND mood boost AND me time, all without changing our schedule!
There are some unresolved details here. I don’t think I can or should try to manage this while I’m still pumping. I’m not trying to run across San Francisco with breast milk sloshing in my fanny pack. I don’t even have a fanny pack (yet). Or whatever type of tight-fitting backpack I’ll need to carry my wallet and keys and phone. That part will be easily figured out, and I’m sure there are any number of running specialty stores excited to help me (and advice is welcome!). But not with milk and all the accoutrements in addition to work clothes/shoes and empty lunch containers and etc.
I think I’m almost ready to stop pumping. Heavily qualified by “I think” and “almost.” I like sending a bottle of my liquid gold each day. But even the nanny is saying he’s often not interested, AND he’s nursing more than ever in the hours we’re together, likely due to a gnarly moral coming in. I feel nervous about his daytime nutrients coming only from the food I’m preparing which he only sometimes wants to eat… And I guess I’m, oddly enough, nostalgic about the pump. Not that I love pumping, just feel like it’s part of the whole experience and now it’s almost over.
Our office just moved to a new location. In the old office, I had a cute little room with two comfy chairs and a fridge, and a window (with a curtain). In the new location, I have a windowless tiny storage room where I have to unplug a microwave to plug in the pump, set the accoutrements on boxes, and block the door which doesn’t lock. Yes, these are all signs! It’s time to wind it down.
They say they’re getting an “occupied” sign for the door. And of course it’s all guys who sit directly outside that door. Yesterday, I was asking this moving coordinator guy where to plug in and our IT guy made a joke about plugging into the adjoining server room, where you can hear buzzing and whirring of the server from behind the door. I said, “Yeah, I think that might be a little too much power,” and everyone laughed and it was at once terribly awkward and hilarious (which also kind of sums up pumping).
Anyway, not-pumping leads to the next dilemma–running home with super-full boobs. I suppose that’s all about the running bra. Won’t E be happy to see me showing up busting out! He literally makes the sign for nursing every time he looks at and/or touches me. Maybe he thinks it means, “Mom.” In a way, it really does.
E is only more and more delightful. Mostly–he can now get as frustrated as joyful, as his emotional spectrum gets more complex. He’s really reaching to communicate–he’ll say “Da? Da? DA? DA?!! DA???!!!!” increasing the volume to comical levels while pointing at something he wants, like more strawberries. One of my mom’s groups has been emailing about tantrums and there’s been nothing yet that I would call a tantrum, but definitely mounting frustration when it’s not what he wants. Usually he’s still distractable.
Oh and did I mention that he said his first word? I almost didn’t believe it when the nanny told me, and then, right before my eyes, E pointed at his little buddy and said, “Ta-ee!” or, “Charlie.” And then he did it about a million more times in case I didn’t believe it–in the evening, on the weekend, always with a big smile like he’s thinking about his friend. I think he’s also saying “Chacha” (or “Tata”) which is his grandpa. I’m hoping he learns “Mommy” and have been self-consciously referring to myself a lot in his presence. :o
And he’s walking up a storm. He pretty much doesn’t want to be carried for transportation and insists on walking. He’s falling less and less but getting more and more circuitous in his route, checking out driveways and curbs and cars and not going in the direction we’re trying to go. It takes forever. I pick him up and he throws himself horizontal, trying to get himself back on the ground. He insists on climbing up the steps or walking up with my help, stopping to ring L’s doorbell and check out a bird toy on the top landing. I think he would go up and down the stairs all night if I let him.
My favorite thing he did lately, which my sister B was here to witness: I served dinner which included some butternut squash. I picked up one cube and blew on it twice before handing it to him. Then he blew on it twice and then put it in his mouth! Our eyes popped out!
HOW HOW HOW is it July tomorrow? I am in complete disbelief that the year is half over. But I’m not complaining that we’re heading for a long weekend and vacation not too long after that.
And I’m running and he’s walking. Kisses to the universe! xo
(shaking his bootay at Pride)