Pink sweat pants

Apparently a bunch of us in my family all went to Target the same day a few years back and all got the same style of basic sweat pants/shirts.  We're slobs with no style, fine, whatever, we own it.

Today I was folding laundry and Sweet Pea reached into pile to pull out my pink (*sigh*...yes, pink.  I told you: *no* style!) sweat pants.  My mom has a pair just the same color.

She pulls them out and says "Mom Mom!" (what we call our grandmothers).  And then proceeds to say that over and over again. 

Mom Mom had worn them while watching her just the day before.  Yup.  Smart cookie.

Gaga

The first words of many babies, it now holds a special place in our home: Sweet Pea loves to have internet radio turned on and to dance.  Alas, she is not a fan of much of the 90's alternative or 80's pop channels that we often lean towards.  Nope, she likes Lady Gaga Radio with its current fantastic dance rhythms and heavy beats.

She will go into the living room, point at the tv (we stream Pandora there), raise her arms in a little dance motion and say "gaga."  Tooo cute.

I think it's extra funny since, technically, Lady Gaga was her first live concert.  When I was just a couple months pregnant I took my niece and one of her friends to see Gaga.  I remember at the time being a little worried that the very loud sounds and penetrating base notes couldn't possibly be good for the fetus.  She seems to have survived.  And perhaps it's why she loves music, dance--and especially Gaga--so very much.  :)

Rhythm

I'm amazed by the sense of rhythm babies and kids seem to have.  Sweet Pea can't resist a good beat, whether it's Middle Eastern Drumming or some heavy metal or...whatever.  Every day we play music and she just loves to dance, spin, raise her arms up, jump...all for the love of that beat.  Not to mention her love of clapping, stomping, marching, banging all sorts of "instruments" together and so on.  I know probably most kids do all the same things, but I just adore seeing it in her and love that she has such an innate love of music. 

Full time

I recently moved from part time work (two 12 hour night shifts a week) to full time work (three 12 hour night shifts a week). 

And it's killing me.

Friends who had babies around the same time and returned to full time work while I was part time used to comment about they couldn't believe how much else I did, excursions we planned, errands I could get done, etc.  I would tell them that that extra shift they were working made all the difference in the world.

Damn, was I ever right.

Full time is making me exhausted.  It's tough to work night shift in general.  Your sleep is just screwed up, plain and simple.  Now I have to do that three nights a week and that means at least three days a week I'm all messed up.  Usually it's more as you have to recover.

It doesn't help that I'm in school, still trying to juggle house/home stuff and such.  I've got near constant headaches barely relieved by frequent meds (from a woman who rarely takes anything and always takes half doses).  Stress, tension and frustration are building up.  Well, that's been happening for a while, but it's definitely worse now. 

I could try to switch to days but 1) I couldn't stand to be away from Sweet Pea that much especially since it would adversely affect our nursing relationship that is still important to us both, and 2) I like and maybe need the extra 10K a year I get from working nights.  I already took a pay cut in changing jobs so I really don't want to lose any more.

It's all worth it in the long run (I think, I hope) and we have a plan that will hopefully come to fruition in the next year or so that will have me working less.  But right now?  Right now I am exhausted and frustrated and sad and angry and just plain beat.  I need a vacation, and I just had one a few weeks ago.

I'm still orienting on my new job and I just hope that when I'm out of the watchful eye of a preceptor that I'll feel a bit more comfortable and maybe that will make some of the stress melt away a bit.  :/

Dinner

Sweet Pea has generally always eaten well.  We've done "baby-led weaning" so she's always had pretty much whatever we were having.  Lately she doesn't seem to be eating as much for whatever reason, but tonight we went out to dinner with my mom and oldest sister.  And she ate...

5 potstickers
4 pieces of sushi
1 shrimp tempura
1/2 broccoli tempura
1/2 sweet potato tempura

And of course, lots of water, ice and then "milkies" twice at the table.

I love how that kid can just eat whatever is thrown at her.  :)

Flash forward

It's easy to get stuck thinking your baby will always be a baby, or whatever age they actually are, when you have one.  You can tell yourself it's a lifelong commitment or that they will grow up, but...it just doesn't feel real in the moments of craziness.  But every now and again, it hits you.  They are growing.  Growing up.  You will forever be their parent, whether they are 17 months or 17 years or 71 years!

Tonight I had one of those moments.  I heard a little creak upstairs, like a door about to open.  I wondered why/how Sweet Pea, currently 17 months old, had learned to get out of her crib and open the door.  I laughed at myself for thinking she could have done it.

But then it hit me.  Soon, that will be a possibility.  She will crawl out of bed as a toddler.  Walk out of her room as a little girl.  Occasionally actually come downstairs and grace me with her presence as a teenager.  She will walk right out these doors and start a life "on her own" (but I'll always be there, whether she likes it or not ;).

These odd little flashes occur every now and again and they are so hard to explain.  I'm guessing other parents go through this, too, but I would imagine a lot of non-parents might find this very odd and say brilliant things like "duh!" back to me.  But it's real and powerful and overwhelming when it happens.

I love watching her grow up, even if it breaks my heart sometimes.  :')