Mandajuice

Ever is ONE today

What an honestly weird year it’s been, both the slowest moving year of my life and the fastest all in one. I can’t imagine what quarantine would have been like without the joy this munchkin has brought to our lives. She’s amazing and Sean and I can’t believe how lucky we are to have her. I know I’ve said this before but I was on the fence about having a baby at this age and one year in I can tell you it’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. This child is a wonder.

 

Over the last couple of weeks, Ever’s language has exploded. I wish I had a translator because she talks all the time and I’m convinced SHE knows exactly what she’s trying to say. She’s been saying MAMA and DADA for a while, but now she’s saying MORE and MILK and I’m pretty sure she’s working on BOTTLE and GENOA and DOG and BOOK and READ. 

 

This also means the whining has increased because she’s trying so hard to communicate with us. I’m here for it though. I’m absolutely smitten with her at this age. You only have to look at this child and she smiles. Her disposition is almost always cheerful (unless you tell her she can’t play with your phone). All she wants to do is read. All day long she brings me book after book. She loves Elmo and claps along to the Letter of the Day song. She lights up and waves at her brother and sister when they walk in the room. She teases the dog and cracks herself up. We’re teaching her to blow kisses. 

 

Our schedule has recently changed again since Sean’s FMLA only lasted the first year. I no longer have him home on Tuesday’s so I can work, but big sister has agreed to step in. Genoa will be watching Ever every Tuesday after school and every other Monday when she’s not at her dad’s. This thrills me because there’s nobody Ever loves as much as she loves her big sissy. Not to mention kid labor is a little more affordable than daycare. 

 

Ever is still no where near walking, but I couldn’t be more chill about that. Give her a few more months to grow up on me, that’s fine. I’m already sad she’ll never be this tiny again. And that’s the truth about parenthood. It’s bittersweet. Every milestone is a loss of the baby you used to have. And it’s especially bittersweet knowing this is my last baby. I feel like I already miss this age and it’s not even over yet. I’m just stupid grateful to Sean for giving me this perfect gift. 

Ever is ONE today

What an honestly weird year it’s been, both the slowest moving year of my life and the fastest all in one. I can’t imagine what quarantine would have been like without the joy this munchkin has brought to our lives. She’s amazing and Sean and I can’t believe how lucky we are to have her. I know I’ve said this before but I was on the fence about having a baby at this age and one year in I can tell you it’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. This child is a wonder.

 

Over the last couple of weeks, Ever’s language has exploded. I wish I had a translator because she talks all the time and I’m convinced SHE knows exactly what she’s trying to say. She’s been saying MAMA and DADA for a while, but now she’s saying MORE and MILK and I’m pretty sure she’s working on BOTTLE and GENOA and DOG and BOOK and READ. 

 

This also means the whining has increased because she’s trying so hard to communicate with us. I’m here for it though. I’m absolutely smitten with her at this age. You only have to look at this child and she smiles. Her disposition is almost always cheerful (unless you tell her she can’t play with your phone). All she wants to do is read. All day long she brings me book after book. She loves Elmo and claps along to the Letter of the Day song. She lights up and waves at her brother and sister when they walk in the room. She teases the dog and cracks herself up. We’re teaching her to blow kisses. 

 

Our schedule has recently changed again since Sean’s FMLA only lasted the first year. I no longer have him home on Tuesday’s so I can work, but big sister has agreed to step in. Genoa will be watching Ever every Tuesday after school and every other Monday when she’s not at her dad’s. This thrills me because there’s nobody Ever loves as much as she loves her big sissy. Not to mention kid labor is a little more affordable than daycare. 

 

Ever is still no where near walking, but I couldn’t be more chill about that. Give her a few more months to grow up on me, that’s fine. I’m already sad she’ll never be this tiny again. And that’s the truth about parenthood. It’s bittersweet. Every milestone is a loss of the baby you used to have. And it’s especially bittersweet knowing this is my last baby. I feel like I already miss this age and it’s not even over yet. I’m just stupid grateful to Sean for giving me this perfect gift. 

Happy Birthday Ever

Here is Alex, the original owner of the birthday pumpkin pajamas:
And Miss Ever on her birthday, some time before 6am:

And here is her sister on her first birthday:

And Alex, original owner of the pumpkin birthday jammies:

 

Ever is 9 months old already!

This isn’t my first rodeo and I STILL can’t believe how fast it’s gone by. She’s such a frickin delight of a human being already and we all just love her so much. She’s scooting around pretty fast on her belly and can get up on her knees pretty well. She just hasn’t figured out how to achieve forward motion yet. (Which is fine! My big kids never properly crawled either). She’s *everywhere* though, so Sean finished up the baby proofing today. 

 

It’s been an interesting couple of months for us, with me being back to work. I’m really loving getting to see my clients, but I’m also worried we’re going to get shut down again soon. The COVID numbers just aren’t looking good. I would feel a lot safer if I knew people were still social distancing, but most of the people I talk to simply aren’t that afraid of the virus anymore. A lot of them don’t wear masks unless it’s required and that’s scary to someone in the service industry. I keep my room and the shop, in general, at a level of cleanliness where I’m certain no virus could possibly survive on any surfaces, but we’re all still sucking down the same air from behind our masks. I’m so grateful for my job; it’s just such a strange time to be working.

 

Speaking of work, Sean actually took the entire month of July off to be home with the baby. His request for 8 hours a week of FMLA time got denied, so he decided to just take it all in one chunk instead. This worked out really well since July is my busiest month of the year and I could work six days a week while he was home with Ever. It’s been delightful having him around so much and I really haven’t even allowed myself to think about what things will look like when he goes back to work. I know we’re gonna need childcare soon and I’m just dreading it. I never paid for childcare for my big kids and I’m just out of my depth trying to figure out what’s reasonable for both safety and cost. Part of me just wants to go back to working three days a week and stay home with her the rest of the time. We’ll just have to see if we can make that work financially. 

 

Childcare aside, I’m gonna miss Sean when he goes back to work. Our usual schedule is great for work, but horrible for us getting to have any time together. That’s one of the reasons we took a risk and went away for a long weekend in Hood River. It was just a few nights, but it was really nice to go with just the three of us. I broke the bed at our Airbnb (nothing exciting, unfortunately, I just sat on it!) but we ended up just fine on the box spring and mattress on the floor for the rest of our stay. The baby was happy the whole time - she loves having both of her parents at her beck and call. 

 

We got a lot of takeout, but did end up eating at a restaurant after we checked out on the last day we were there. They did a good job of keeping the tables separated and the place felt really clean, but then Ever decided to chew on the side of the table, so I guess we really put that theory to the test. The food was excellent though! 

 

The highlight of the trip was when the three of us were all snuggled together and Ever kept saying, “Mama” over and over again. I said, “yup that’s me, but who’s this guy?” and pointed at Sean and she immediately said, “Dada,” like DUH. It was the cutest thing ever. 

 

Yesterday she said “daddy” as clear as day and Sean’s pretty sure she said “baby” this morning. God I love this phase so much. Nine months is peak baby time (post-newborn, pre-toddler) and we’re soaking up every second. 

 

The big kids are doing well aside from the announcement that school will be online-only in the Fall. They are both super bummed, but I’m 100% relieved not to have to be the bad guy. (They don’t know this, but I was planning to keep them home either way). We literally never fight anymore and I was dreading the ensuing blowout. This way at least it’s not my fault. 

A BRIEF LIST OF THINGS I’M DISINFECTING

My hands

My phone

Front register

Front counter

Front door (inside and out)

Thermometer

My phone

Door knobs

Waxing table & pillow

Foot stool 

Mag lamp

My phone 

Trash can

Dresser (including each individual knob)

Phone charging cable

Vinyl chair

Side table

Wipes container (including inside the inside flaps)

Hand sanitizer dispenser

My phone

My entire stainless steel cart

Including cord for plug

Wax pot

Sticks containers (2)

My phone 

Tool box (tools are submerged in Barbicide)

Finipil pump bottle

Coconut oil pump bottle 

My phone

Calendula spray bottle 

My vinyl apron(s)

My face shield(s)

My phone

MY SOUL 

 

This is pretty much the entire contents of my waxing room. I do this between every client, about 10-15 times a day. Our lobby is closed, but I also hit the bathroom surfaces after any use. Cleaning has always been my least favorite part of the job, but I have NEVER BEEN HAPPIER to do it because it means I get to work. WORK, WORK, WORK. Sweet, delicious work, I missed you SO! 

 

I’m not gonna lie, so much has changed, and we’re all working a lot harder for less money (because we have to book an extra 15 minutes between clients to clean). We have to make people wait in their cars and temperature test everyone before they come in. I already had to reschedule one of my clients because she had a fever! I LOATHE wearing a mask all day. It’s sweaty and hot and I keep having to re-glove when I bend over and it gets in my eyes. Wearing a face shield to do facial waxing is a trip - it’s a fog machine and your voice sounds so loud inside the plastic. We’re going through GALLONS of disinfectant and it’s only been a week. My body is hurting in new and different ways from the additional repetitive stress. And apparently it only takes two days of sanitizing for the veneer on an IKEA dresser to start to bubble! 

 

But you guys, I get to see MY PEOPLE. And even though I can’t hug them, it has been so uplifting just getting to make smily eye contact with them again. It’s so worth every minute of the extra work (and all my clients have been stupidly generous with the tipping this week, which is unnecessary but so sweet and thoughtful). I’m exhausted by the end of the day, but I’m so effing happy to be back. 

 

BRUTAL HONESTY

One of my biggest fears about having a baby with Sean was that I would love that baby more than I loved my big kids because I love him so much more than I ever loved their father. It was a fear initially voiced by Genoa as a reason she didn’t want us to have a baby. Once she said it, it kind of haunted me and I couldn’t get it out of my head. I mean, what if it’s true? Isn’t that what all the absentee fathers on tv do? They go start a new family and forget about their existing kids. No wonder it scared Genoa. 

 

But lately, particularly late at night when I’m trying to get the baby back to sleep, I’ve become a little obsessed with reading old blog posts I wrote back when the kids were little, specifically when Genoa was Ever’s age and Alex was three years old. I’m so grateful for all the writing I did then because I don’t remember any of it. I had completely forgotten that Alex burned his thumb on a hot iron at Grandma’s house or that Genoa wouldn’t let anyone but me hold her when she was a baby. I read those posts now and it all seems like new information to me, like someone else wrote it.

 

In some ways, someone else did. I am wholly a different person than I was 14 years ago. I recently reread this incredibly judgmental post I wrote about breastfeeding while I was, in fact, formula-feeding Genoa’s sister. It was so controversial when I wrote it and looking back I can’t believe I actually felt that way. But I did. 

 

I’m not proud of the person I used to be and I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought of just deleting all those old posts because they don’t reflect who I am anymore. But I would rather preserve the evolution - proof that I can change my mind when given new facts. Something that it turns out DOES NOT KILL YOU. 

 

Even stranger is how much of me is actually the same. Not so much the excessive judgment or horrible political views, but the ferocious love I had for my children. My personality hasn’t changed a whole bunch except for how much calmer I am now. I still can’t believe I actually raised children before therapy and medication and I try to have empathy for that Amanda who didn’t recognize her anxiety or depression or see just how destructive her marriage was to her mental health. But man, did she ever love her babies. That hasn’t changed. 

 

And so, let it be known that I love all my babies the same, which is to say, as much as it is humanly possible to love them. Sure, I love them each a little differently because they are such different people, but that ferocity is the same. Ever will have a vastly different life than my older kids and I’m sure there will be some resentment at some point, but it will never be because I didn’t love my older kids as much as I love their baby sister. That’s just not possible. 

Quarantine is starting to get to me

 

I have no motivation to do ANYthing. Even small tasks like emptying the dishwasher seem huge to me. I just sit around all day entertaining the baby. She’s great, don’t get me wrong, but this is just way too much alone time for an extrovert. Eight weeks of it already and my serotonin has left the building. I’m not sad at all, but I’m definitely depressed. 

 

At first I was taking walks and getting outside almost every day. I was making to do lists. I was cooking for my kids during the day and for Sean at night. I was baking. Now I’m not doing any of that stuff. The house is a mess. I know it would help, but I don’t even want to, much less have the energy to do any of it. This is how I know it’s depression - I don’t really care. 

 

The thing it’s really teaching me is how integral work is to my mental health. Not to mention how fortunate I am to have found a career that suits me so well I have a hard time functioning without it. I *need* those 10-15 conversations a day with people I care about. I need to feel helpful and efficient. I need women in my life. I need those relationships. Up until quarantine, I had things pretty well set up so that work took care of that part of my personality. Without it, I just feel useless. I’ve even lost my appetite; I’m pretty much only eating once a day. 

 

The big kids are on an opposite schedule now and mostly do their own thing anyway. Online school is a joke. I won’t let him get a job (yet), so Alex is always playing video games. We’re working our way through The Sopranos, one episode a day. Genoa has been spending more time at her dad’s because he has a more relaxed social distancing policy than I do and her bff lives across the street there. Basically I feel like I barely see the teenagers, so the main thing I have to look forward to is seeing Sean. 

 

I can’t be the only partner going through this, but I count the hours until my husband gets home from work every day. Sean is my only form of adult human contact right now and I’ve glommed onto him like never before. I almost feel sorry for him! He not only has to work 12-hour days keeping us afloat, but he has to come home every day and entertain his bored housewife. In some ways, it’s like the beginning of our relationship again - I’m all teenage infatuation and butterflies in my stomach when I finally get to see him. We’ve had to be very careful not to make Ever any more siblings. 

 

This isn’t what either of us signed up for, but I suppose it’s the silver lining of the pandemic. We’ve never been closer. 

 

That, and baby time. I might be depressed, but Ever is an utter delight and I really am grateful for the extra time home with her. My family still brings me joy. I know this is temporary and so many people have it so much worse than I do. I think that’s why I’ve been hesitating to post this for so long (it’s been like this for probably almost a month). Because I’m really complaining from a place of privilege. I have everything going for me and I’m still a mess. I can only imagine how hard it must be for folks who are actually struggling. 

 

Spring Break

We are supposed to be on our way to Maui today, but instead I have this exciting to do list:

Clean downstairs bathroom (done)

Bring in the trash bins (done)

Feed baby green beans (I forgot yesterday!)

Do elliptical (doing as I type)

Make cookies with Genoa (she’s still asleep)

Cut baby’s nails (done!)

 

Super exciting! I might even shower and wash my hair today! The rest of my time I’ll be taking care of sweet baby girl and trying not to think about the rising death toll.

 

Because it was Sean’s first day off in two weeks and he could stay home with the baby, yesterday was my once weekly trip outside the house to forage for groceries. It made me very nervous, but I have a system now so I touch as little as possible. I wear gloves, bring my own bags, and completely wipe down the cart before touching it (even though the store is sanitizing the carts as well). Then I use two more wipes to clean off a scanner and I scan my own groceries as I go, putting every item directly into one of my own bags. I take my credit card out of my purse and put it in my pocket at home so I don’t have to touch my purse with the dirty gloves when checking out. After unloading everything at home, I put my clothes directly in the washing machine. I do not, however, wipe down every box and bag that I buy. I don’t think that’s where the risks are. I just wash my hands a million times while putting everything away. 

 

We now have a mountain of food at home, which is good because we’re all eating A LOT. It’s weird making three meals a day for everyone (except Sean who is only home for dinner). I’m kind of enjoying it. I haven’t eaten takeout (except pizza once) in over two weeks. I’m sure I’m still managing to gain weight, but I’m trying not to let that add to my stress. There are more important things to worry about right now. 

 

Oh! Miss Ever rolled over for the first time from back to front! I missed it because I was cooking Sean’s lunch, but when I looked up there she was on her belly! I’m desperately trying to get it on camera next time she does it.

Being home is strange

I’m normally such a workaholic, but I have to admit I’m enjoying being Suzy homemaker again. I’ve been cooking a lot more and catching up on laundry. I even worked out on the elliptical yesterday for the first time in something like two years. 

 

Things are good within our little family bubble. Nobody is sick (yet). Contact with extended family has increased dramatically. Big kids are doing fine, if following completely nocturnal schedules. I barely saw Alex at all yesterday, but he woke me up at 3am when his video game chat got rowdy. 

 

Baby girl is doing great. She’s still sleeping through the night and instead of keeping us up until 2am, she’s routinely down at 11:00. The only difficulty is that we’re having zero luck with nursing. My milk is just... gone. 

 

About two weeks ago, and only during the day, baby girl started thinking it was HILARIOUS to bite my nipple and tug on it over and over again while grinning up at me and smiling. This coincided with me only being able to pump maybe an ounce while I was at work anyway. So I quit pumping and let her have formula during the day to save my nipples and my sanity. Since then my milk supply has decreased significantly and I’m only able to nurse her first thing in the morning or on the off chance she wakes up in the middle of the night. 

 

Much to the chagrin of the hardcore lactivist I was with my big kids, I’m not as sad about this as you’d think. Breast might be best, but formula feeding is 100% stress free, and there’s definitely something to be said for that. And as for finding formula during this time of empty shelves, were on a monthly subscription from the manufacturer, and they’ve given us no reason to worry. I’m just trying to be grateful for all the breast milk she did get instead of focusing on how little is left. She’s an incredibly healthy baby girl and I’m enjoying her so much during this time off. I’m sure I’ll look back someday and know that getting to be home with her was the best part of the quarantine. 

Worries

We got word from the governor that all salons are shut down for two weeks. 

So we’re pretty screwed. I’ve sent out an announcement email and now I’m furiously texting clients to cancel their appointments. The truth is I was already worried about how slow business was getting. This is the time of year we usually start picking up again and instead now we’re closed entirely. 

 

I have several worries, obviously. On a micro level, I’m the main breadwinner for my family and if I can’t work, I can’t provide. This will be painful, especially for Sean, who plans to take up the slack by working as much overtime as he possibly can. I guess we’re lucky that one of us is an entrepreneur and the other is a government employee. It helps us weather crises exactly like this one. I just hate that it falls entirely on his back. (And our savings account!) I guess I get to be a stay at home mom for the next two weeks. 

 

On a macro level, this suuuuuucks for small businesses, not just ours. We’ll be okay because our overhead is mostly commissions/payroll and we only have one employee. But all those bars and restaurants?! The entire service industry is going to suffer and it makes me terrified that we’re heading into a very deep recession. 

 

Then there’s my fear of the virus itself, a fear I’m sure we all share. (Except for the teenagers who are all, like, MOM, WE’RE FINE, and who are pissed I won’t let them contaminate the house by having friends over). Part of me is glad we’re closed because one of my business partners has MS and is immunocompromised. I was terrified one of us or a client was going to give it to her. I’m glad that decision was made for us so we didn’t have to constantly struggle with it.

 

Needless to say, our Maui trip is cancelled. It just didn’t seem like the right thing to do. The kids (and my parents) are righteously bummed. I’m sad, but resolved at this point. Hopefully we’ll get our money back and be able to reschedule when we can afford it again.