solids (the off-switch)

Bumby loves his solids. He actually loves all food, the milky food and the (relatively) solid food. He likes fruit, and veggies, and oatmeal, and little bits of chicken. He likes mashed potatoes, and grapes that I have bitten off 3/4 of and peeled the remaining 1/4. The problem here is not that he is picky, or that I am wasting a half a jar of baby food after I open it, or any of the other things I have heard complaints about. 

The problem is that he has no off-switch. He will just eat and eat and eat and eat. When you look up “how much food should my doc month old eat?” on the Internet, it says not to be discouraged if they stop after a tablespoon or so. HA. 

One night, as an experiment, we decided to see if he would eventually stop. After nursing and then eating an entire jar of homemade peaches and THREE toddler size bowls of oatmeal, I stopped feeding him because I was just horrified. After that, he nursed again. Then he was up half the night with a tummy ache. 

So I have decided to take it up with you moms. Have any of you had a kid like this? Bumby is very fat, but of course he is a six month old baby so he is supposed to be fat. But what if his off-switch is broken? How do I help him learn what it feels like to be full and that, at some point, you need to stop eating? 

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back to work

This is actually my second week back at work, although it really feels like my first. Last week was a week of one half of one day in the office, and a lot of document drafting during nap time. This is the first week I am really back and on my real schedule. I have a part time arrangement, much to my delight, which includes two half days from home, and two full (long) days in the office.  

And we do not have a nanny. 

I lay this at the feet of the agency we have been working with. We actually have a nanny that we love, and want to watch our kids when I work, but it has just been one roadblock after another. And every time I call the woman (the agency, not the nanny), she is in the middle of some personal chore, doesn’t have her notes, can’t remember our last conversation. 

Maybe this is a good thing, in a way. (I am working on finding a silver lining to this very very dark cloud.) Last Monday was the first time I was away from Bumby during a time he needed to eat. This means that in six months, we haven’t been apart from each other for more than three hours, and even the three hour stretches can be counted on one hand. So leaving him with milk in the fridge, to get on a train into the city for five hours, was hard enough, even though I was leaving him in the capable hands of his other mom. Today there were definitely tears on my part, as I get ready to leave him for twelve whole hours, but again. At least he’s with his mom. 

However, my wife has exactly 3 vacation days remaining, and the nanny agency lady informs me via garbled email message last night at midnight that we need to “have a verbal conversation” about our nanny to go over some details. Details of the formal offer we asked her to make to the nanny TWO WEEKS ago now, and details which I have told her verbally three times and sent in writing twice. Oh but. She has a personal commient this morning, so could we speak around lunchtime?

I am pulling my hair out over here, faster than it is falling out of my postpartum head. And yet, I do not like a lot of people, and I adore this nanny. Considering that she will be in the house with me two afternoons a week, this is important. Considering that she will be feeding and holding and bathing my helpless, non-verbal baby, this is essential. So we are slogging through with the unprofessional, disorganized nanny agency. And also developing any number of stress-induced maladies. 

In case you are wondering what it looks like to work from home with no childcare for your four kids, last week I had a conference call and had to have Boo watch Bumby for about 45 minutes. Halfway into the call, which Boo thought had ended, she burst into the room. Looking panicked and holding a very grumpy Bumby, she said at top volume, “He wants some breastmilk REAL BAD.” I wish I could say the phone was on mute, but it was not. So everyone pretended like it didn’t happen, Boo and I nearly died of laughter, and I breastfed Bumby while I discussed an agreement I would be drafting. Needless to say, I showed Boo how to warm a bottle of milk after that.