We are coming up to almost 24 hours bottle-free...and we are still alive.
Whew.
I will say, the afternoon nap is almost nearly a disaster and taking away the bottle yesterday proved to be no exception. I decided to give Scotty his last bottle for the 9am nap, and it was a little emotional for me. I realized that I am not going to rock him to sleep (or sleepiness) anymore. It's like naptime (and bedtime, to some degree) has become a diaper change, a little snuggle in the glider and then, "Okay, well, then. Talk to you soon, kid" and I exit. A little, um...abrupt?
And I also realized that Brian is either going to have to do bathtime or won't see Scotty at all at night. This also made me a little sad. We've been trading off at nighttime - I tackle the Bear in the water and then promptly pass him off to Brian for bottle and rocking. But now...no bottle. So what do we do?
Anyways, yesterday afternoon's nap was **almost** a success except Scotty decided to poop about 30 minutes into falling asleep. Who poops when they are sleeping? I'm still trying to wrap my brain around that one. Likewise, I feel like I have a love/hate relationship with poop. He seems to not poop enough, and then when he does, it's at the most inopportune times. Oh, well.
So by the time bedtime rolled around (and I was flying solo as Brian had dinner with a friend), Scotty went down with no problem. But in the sake of full disclosure, I feel like I need to also point out...he had a crappy 30 minute afternoon nap, we had swimming lessons at 5pm, ate dinner at 6, and then I ran the kid around (on the stairs, no less) until 7pm. So yes, I kind of feel like I cheated. Scotty went down without so much as a peep, probably because he was absolutely exhausted.
But hey, all's fair in love and Motherhood, right?
And today for the morning nap, there was some serious fussing. But he also had dropped Froggie outside of the crib, so I think that contributed to the hysterics. He's still sleeping now, my sink is strangely empty of dishes, and my countertops are glistening. It's a new world, indeed.
As for swimming lessons...okay, was I being punked yesterday? It was my first time taking him (Brian and Scotty had gone previously for a little Father-Bear bonding) and I will admit, I was a little self-conscious in my suit. I had bought it back before the Scottsdale trip and since then, I've lost weight. No worries - I still look like I'm five months pregnant, but the only place to have lost girth is in the boobs (so typical). So the top (on a very conservative black one-piece, I might add) was a little big. Breasts everywhere. Yet the tummy was still protruding and the butt...well, I didn't look that far. But I kept telling myself, it's fine, whatever, we're all mothers and there's no way I'm going to be the heaviest one in the class.
And as Scotty and I sat on the bench waiting for our lesson to start, it hit me that I have to stop fidgeting with my suit and keep a hand on my child. It was really like a light bulb of Motherhood went off over my head -- it was like, "Da-dum! You cannot be vain enough to worry about yourself when your child is inches from a pool." It was both illuminating and slightly unsettling (mainly because I was really worried a boob was going to pop out if I moved the wrong way). But, boobs be damned, I'm a mom now. And that means I'll flash the whole pool if it means saving my child from falling in.
And if my boob-drama wasn't enough, imagine my horror when they called for my class and two other women, clad in string bikinis, stand up clutching their toddlers. Um...what? I know this is Vegas and all, but seriously? Were we at Wet Republic? Bare? Any other Strip property that encourages nakedness? Last time I checked, it was 'Water Wings' on the corner of Trop and Fort Apache, not Heidi Montag's birthday party. And aside from their general hotness, how did they manage to lose the baby weight? And why was I in their class?
I really thought there were cameras there or something to record the look of horror that must have crossed my face. But again, boobs and bikinis aside, I'm a mom and I was there to let the little Bear float, jump, swim and kick. And that's what he did. But I made sure my towel was within reaching distance the moment I got out of the water.
Whew.
I will say, the afternoon nap is almost nearly a disaster and taking away the bottle yesterday proved to be no exception. I decided to give Scotty his last bottle for the 9am nap, and it was a little emotional for me. I realized that I am not going to rock him to sleep (or sleepiness) anymore. It's like naptime (and bedtime, to some degree) has become a diaper change, a little snuggle in the glider and then, "Okay, well, then. Talk to you soon, kid" and I exit. A little, um...abrupt?
And I also realized that Brian is either going to have to do bathtime or won't see Scotty at all at night. This also made me a little sad. We've been trading off at nighttime - I tackle the Bear in the water and then promptly pass him off to Brian for bottle and rocking. But now...no bottle. So what do we do?
Anyways, yesterday afternoon's nap was **almost** a success except Scotty decided to poop about 30 minutes into falling asleep. Who poops when they are sleeping? I'm still trying to wrap my brain around that one. Likewise, I feel like I have a love/hate relationship with poop. He seems to not poop enough, and then when he does, it's at the most inopportune times. Oh, well.
So by the time bedtime rolled around (and I was flying solo as Brian had dinner with a friend), Scotty went down with no problem. But in the sake of full disclosure, I feel like I need to also point out...he had a crappy 30 minute afternoon nap, we had swimming lessons at 5pm, ate dinner at 6, and then I ran the kid around (on the stairs, no less) until 7pm. So yes, I kind of feel like I cheated. Scotty went down without so much as a peep, probably because he was absolutely exhausted.
But hey, all's fair in love and Motherhood, right?
And today for the morning nap, there was some serious fussing. But he also had dropped Froggie outside of the crib, so I think that contributed to the hysterics. He's still sleeping now, my sink is strangely empty of dishes, and my countertops are glistening. It's a new world, indeed.
As for swimming lessons...okay, was I being punked yesterday? It was my first time taking him (Brian and Scotty had gone previously for a little Father-Bear bonding) and I will admit, I was a little self-conscious in my suit. I had bought it back before the Scottsdale trip and since then, I've lost weight. No worries - I still look like I'm five months pregnant, but the only place to have lost girth is in the boobs (so typical). So the top (on a very conservative black one-piece, I might add) was a little big. Breasts everywhere. Yet the tummy was still protruding and the butt...well, I didn't look that far. But I kept telling myself, it's fine, whatever, we're all mothers and there's no way I'm going to be the heaviest one in the class.
And as Scotty and I sat on the bench waiting for our lesson to start, it hit me that I have to stop fidgeting with my suit and keep a hand on my child. It was really like a light bulb of Motherhood went off over my head -- it was like, "Da-dum! You cannot be vain enough to worry about yourself when your child is inches from a pool." It was both illuminating and slightly unsettling (mainly because I was really worried a boob was going to pop out if I moved the wrong way). But, boobs be damned, I'm a mom now. And that means I'll flash the whole pool if it means saving my child from falling in.
And if my boob-drama wasn't enough, imagine my horror when they called for my class and two other women, clad in string bikinis, stand up clutching their toddlers. Um...what? I know this is Vegas and all, but seriously? Were we at Wet Republic? Bare? Any other Strip property that encourages nakedness? Last time I checked, it was 'Water Wings' on the corner of Trop and Fort Apache, not Heidi Montag's birthday party. And aside from their general hotness, how did they manage to lose the baby weight? And why was I in their class?
I really thought there were cameras there or something to record the look of horror that must have crossed my face. But again, boobs and bikinis aside, I'm a mom and I was there to let the little Bear float, jump, swim and kick. And that's what he did. But I made sure my towel was within reaching distance the moment I got out of the water.
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