childcare | Casey E. Hamilton

It’s been a while since I’ve done a post about life in general. Largely, it’s been good. Although I will say that it’s a bit strange to be a stay-at-home mom sometimes. I find that most of my day isn’t terribly interesting; always repetitive, even while it’s extremely rewarding. All I need is a baby grin and I’m a happy mother. Bonus points for one of those shrieking giggles he gives sometimes about unpredictable things.

Being a mother is also surreal, though. Asher doesn’t look exactly like me at his age, but he’s close enough that things get strange in my head. Especially when I’m sleep deprived. I often get the sense that I am outside of time, scrubbing my own elbows in the whale-shaped bath, cajoling myself to eat peas, pulling my tiny self close at 3 am when I’m having a hard time sleeping, singing show tunes to calm my younger nerves. I know logically that he’s not me, but the lines still blur.

It feels sometimes like I traded everything that made me interesting for a suitcase full of baby snuggles, but it never feels like it wasn’t worth it. Baby snuggles are pretty great. Besides, I know it’s a temporary condition. My mother and grandmother, both stay-at-home moms, are/were VERY interesting women. And I sneak in interesting whenever I can, between the cracks of bottles, naps, and routine. Brian, wonderful Brian, helps.

It’s summer, so Brian and I have been taking Asher on an adventure once or twice a week – hiking, to the Redlands Bowl, swimming… It messes up the baby’s schedule but I think it’s worth it for the way it breaks my monotony. After all, if Mom isn’t happy no one is happy, right? That’s what I’ve been told and I don’t intend to test the theory. That and books are my saving grace.

I don’t know why motherhood is this oxymoronic bundle of easy, boring, and the hardest thing ever, but it is. I’m continually looking forward to whatever this baby is going to do next, though. That’s all I really wanted to say this week.

Also, just for kicks, I’m going to write down our daily schedule for posterity:

6:00 am ish – Baby wakes up. Brian or I feed him a bottle (whomever is more sleep deprived gets to sleep).
6:30 am – Brian gets up and gets ready for work while I corral the baby. He usually squirrels around and plays with his Totoro plush while I sing to him.
7:00-7:10 am – Brian finishes getting dressed, so he corrals the baby while I get dressed and eat breakfast.
7:40 am – Brian leaves for work and the baby is MINE. I feed him and sing songs to him until he either gets fussy or finishes his tray.
8:00 am – Asher plays for about an hour, doing mostly his own thing except that every 10 minutes or so he wants to climb into my lap and get kisses for a second before moving on to the next thing.
9:00 am – Bottle and nap time. This kid usually falls asleep while he’s eating, right on top of me. I read quietly on my phone until he wakes up. He used to have another nap later but for the past few days this one has just been epically long.
10:30 am ish – Baby wakes up and plays again, but this time I MUST BE RIGHT THERE for him to stand on or hug him. He wants to be touching. Unless he doesn’t. But no really, he does.
11:00 am – This kid gets another bottle, though he stays awake and hums at me through it. He plays when he’s done, crawling around the living room from toy to toy.
12:00 pm – Brian comes home for lunch. We swap out watching him, and I get Asher a tray when I’m done eating so he can have lunch himself.
12:45 pm ish – Depending on the weather, Asher and I walk Brian back to work. The baby usually falls asleep sometime during the walk, and (depending on the weather) I just park him under the shady tree in the front yard until he wakes up while I sit on the bench on the porch and read some more.
1:30 pm ish – This kid wakes up and we head inside.
2:00 pm – Baby gets another bottle, to which he usually falls asleep. This one’s his long nap, and I can usually count on 1 1/2 hours from him. Yesterday he slept for 2 1/2, though… When he wakes up, he plays. He doesn’t care at all about me now, just wants to do his business on his own time.
4:00 pm – Another bottle for baby.
5:00 pm – Brian gets home. After Brian’s changed out of his nice work clothes, I get a small respite from being “in charge.” And if there’s anything I need to do on my own, I can do it. I also often make dinner.
6:00 pm – Everyone has dinner together, Brian and I at the table and Asher in his high chair.
7:00 pm – The baby bedtime routine commences.
8:00 pm – Asher is (usually) asleep by now. The adults collapse in exhaustion in front of the TV.
10:00 pm – The adults go to bed. Or at least pretend to (if my book isn’t too diverting).
Sometimes Asher will wake between 3:00 am and 5:00 am in which case he’ll get a bottle before going back to bed in the pack-and-play in our room. Sometimes he doesn’t. It’s kinda a crapshoot. And that’s it! Are you tired yet?

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It’s a strange combination of spring and winter in California right now. The Roger’s Red, which I measure the seasons by, has begun sprouting silvery leaves again. The lavender is blooming in my front bed, and the giant Maple in the front yard is all dappled with fresh green leaves as well. But it has been raining a dreary drizzle for days now.

It reminds me of the winters when I was a child. Our house was mostly windows back then, and the loudness of the rain falling made you feel like you were out in it while simultaneously being able to cuddle up under a fluffy comforter with a book. Sadly, I can no longer cuddle up under anything and expect to read. I have a small boy who needs constant holding and attention. He already grabs my phone when I’ve been reading on my kindle app too much.

He’s surprisingly coordinated now. Meaning that when he tries to put things in his mouth he gets them within an inch of his target, hitting his cheeks or his nose most times. That isn’t what I would call coordinated at all a few months ago, but the fact that he could reach for something and grab it was a revelation, let alone put it mostly where he wants it. He’s like a little birdy with his mouth, too, opening it wide for a pacifier, a plush toy, a fist, or a nipple. He’s putting the whole world in his mouth.

I have discovered that if you put me alone in a room with a small child long enough, what results is silly songs. I’ve been singing “He’s got the whole world in his mouth” to the tune of “whole world in his hands.” You can substitute the verse for whatever he’s currently eating. “He’s got his mother’s knuckle in his mouth,” is a popular one. So is “the sleeve of his onesie,” and “his green knit blanket.” But really you can substitute almost anything. We’ve been trying to avoid “the sudsy washcloth” with more success than not.

I also have been singing him this song, to the tune of “I Hate to Get Up In The Morning.” It’s based on true events.

Oh how I hate to get up in the morning/ oh how I’d love to remain in bed/ But when your son pees on all your fancy clothes/ you’ve got to launder all of those/ Or spend the rest of your life na-ked.

Add that to the bevvy of things we’ve all pulled out of nowhere to sing him, and he’s going to have the strangest musical vocabulary ever. Brian sings him “I Feel Pretty,” (he likes the “la, la, las,”) and my mother has been singing him the theme song to Daniel Boone. I’ve been singing him Alan Sherman tunes amid musicals, hits from the 40’s and 50’s, girl scout camp stuff, and my own silliness. He babbles back with smiles.

It’s harder being home with a kid than it logically should be. I mean, feeding, changing, and playing aren’t theoretically difficult things, it’s just that they never end. But being home with him is also more rewarding than I expected. All I need is to launch into a version of “Look to the Rainbow” and feel this kid snuggle into my chest to feel like it’s all worth it. Maybe days of bedding down in the rain with a book just got more social…

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