Hanging On

So I'm up writing in what's basically considered by most to be the middle of the night, waiting for laundry to dry, exhausted and REALLY wishing there was some magical way I could carve out a few days to do just 5% of the things I need to get done.  It's been an especially exhausting week, some long, late shifts at work and filling up the time I do have off with baby care and seeing family and taking care of business matters for our family and basically nothing else.  I am continually amazed by mothers.  How do they do it?!  How do we manage a household, buy food, cook, assure there are adequate diapers and wipes by making a Costco run at calculated 6 week intervals (because that's exactly how long the $35 value pack of 244 diapers lasts us), somehow shower, eat, sweep a floor or perhaps spray a mirror with Windex once in awhile, get cars registered, pay taxes, budget, make baby food, installing childproof locks throughout half of our home, wash breastpump parts....and then spend every other second enjoying and taking in my "gone-before-I-knew-it" son's babyood?  Oh, and did I mention I pretty much work full-time?  Yeah.  I have no idea how this happens.  I mean, apparently I am actually doing it, but honestly, I have no idea how.

I guess you could say we're hanging on.  It's the new normal.

James is 8 1/2 months old now, and is skyrocketing through some of his biggest physical developmental milestones.  He's been crawling since 6 months.  Just in the last month, he discovered pulling up on things, and standing.  So standing was fun for oh, approximately one day until he caught onto cruising.  Cruising is a good time, especially when it involves going from the bathtub ledge to the toilet.  The toilet is his thing lately.  He beats on it like a drum and seems to have this innate sense that it's the one place I'd rather he not stand and hang out at for 20 minute intervals.  We bought TWO toilet baby locks and neither of them work for our toilet, so it's still basically totally hazardous and requires constant adult supervision.  I did let him bang on the toilet lid for my entire shower the other morning, until he then noticed the other new object of his desire...toilet paper rolls!  So that was a good time.  They're getting moved to surfaces of the bathroom I'd rather they not live on but will need for the indefinite future.  Anyway, cruising.  Cruising leads to....climbing.  Attempted climbing, I should say, since it still involves a lot of tumbles and head bumping and overestimating/not understanding the limits of one tiny little boy's body.  Oh, and gravity.  He's still learning that lesson.  Tough cookies, gravity is.  We splurged a couple of months ago and bought a foam puzzle playmat with the hopes that it might prevent some kind of mild traumatic brain injury that all babies seem to endure during this phase.  That is $40 well spent, let me tell you.  I think if I had to run from my burning house and take only one valuable baby item, that might just be it.

Each stage of his babyhood seems to pass so fast.  Just when things seem to get easier, something new will get harder.  Right now, he's basically a monkey who is super clingy much of the day and doesn't want to let go of us.  He constantly claws, grabs, clings to us any chance he gets.  Doesn't want to be put down alone, and will look up as soon we leave a room and bust out into his full on level-10 crying.  And then stop immediately and smile the moment we walk back in.  The mere task of managing this clingyness is so incredibly physically exhausting.  The carrying, having your face/boobs/head constantly stepped on, grabbing at your face/nose/ears/hair, endless picking up and putting down and picking up and putting down.  The most ironic thing is, the moment he's in my arms, he then squiggles around and wants to be off playing.  He's battling this intense need to be on his own, exploring/mouthing/grabbing/shaking everything in sight, and yet still needing to be right next to me most of the time.  So he's conflicted.  And it's tiring to constantly pick him up, only to have him turn right around in my arms to crawl away - and then do it again.  Over, and over, and over.  And over.

I asked my mom the other day if she had gone through this phase with me when I was a baby.  "How did you do it, mom?  I can't get anything done.  James is a monkey.  He is literally hanging on me at all times."  My wise mother calmly replied, "Honey, you just hang on.  That's all you do.  Just hang on."