Jack has finally recovered from my dietary indiscretions. Well, mostly. There is still the lingering not-quite-right poop issue that I'm pretty sure is another--less severe--food allergy, but aside from that, he's back to being a mostly happy little guy.
This week has actually been kind of fun. He's learning how to move around a lot more. Not that he's skipping rope or anything, but little things. When I lay him down on the changing table he does this hilarious thing with his arms and legs that looks like he's trying to swim off the table (I need to get video of it, and then I need to figure out how to post videos here). Well, I say hilarious now, but it's less hilarious when I'm trying to contend with a dirty diaper. Still, pretty awesome. He also figured out how to push himself forward when we wedge him in the corner of he couch, so we can no longer put him there and walk away.
My favorite thing this week, though, is that he's starting to figure out how to scoot around and is working really, really hard to roll from his back to his stomach. Everyone keeps telling me that this is backward, but I still think it's awesome. Also, dude hates being on his stomach and basically refuses to participate in any kind of forced tummy time. I try it a few times every day, but basically, once he's lifted his head a couple of times and decides he's stuck, he just lays his head down and cries. I don't worry about it much, because we do a ton of babywearing, which apparently counts as tummy time.
Oh, and he's in the middle of a growth spurt. I'm not a fan. His sleep schedule is all kinds of screwy because of it. Don't get me wrong, I realize I've been incredibly lucky that he's been sleeping through the night for the last several weeks, but he's gone back to waking up every three hours to eat and I'm just not used to it. Plus, by the time he's done eating and has fallen back asleep, I'm awake. Wide awake.
And the whole food thing is getting easier (finally). I'm settling into a routine, feeling a little less upset about what I can't have, and, basically, just adjusting. I was really sad when BoyWonder's parents brought him a mini ice cream cake for his birthday, but I made myself a mug cake and tried to pretend it was just as good (it wasn't, though).
The bright side? I'm losing weight. Right now I'm about ten pounds away from where I started. The less bright side... I have, like, no muscle tone though, so I'm still way bigger than I was before. So I'm slowly trying to fix that as much as possible. I'm pretty sure I'm going to be a different shape than before, though, because this awesome, giant c-section scar makes my belly really weird and lumpy, and pushes all my fat up into a really, really unflattering bulge. Lame. For now, I'm doing a bunch of ab and leg work and hoping that my inability to eat a bunch of garbage food works in my favor on the fat-loss front. We shall see, I suppose.
Aside from that, not much going on here. Jack hates the car (well, the car seat, mostly), so we don't leave the house unless we have to. I did drag him out yesterday because I had to get my work situation squared away.
Technically, my leave was up last Friday. No one ever called me, though, and when I got online to change my availability (and, honestly, I was kind of hoping to log on and find out that I was fired...), it showed a return-to-work date for the beginning of February. So, I took the tiny monster to my store so I could fill out paperwork to transfer back to my old store. Not exactly what I wanted, but since Jack refuses to take a bottle, and because I don't want to have to pump at work (or to be there long enough to have to pump), it's easier to just transfer so I'm closer to home.
I don't want to. At all. And I'm a little upset that in the three years it took for me to get pregnant, BoyWonder allowed me to believe that he was cool with me quitting once we finally had a baby, only to pull the rug out from under me a month or so before I went on leave. And not even because we can't afford it. Just because he thinks I'm too hermity for my own mental health. Which might be true, but I don't really feel like that's his call to make.
I'm playing along for now. I'm only going to work six hours a week to start with. One evening a week, and Sunday mornings. I have no idea how Jack is going to feel about this, but I'm secretly hoping that he's terrible the whole time I'm gone. Well, kind of. I don't want him to be sad, but I do kind of want BoyWonder to realize that it's easier for me to just be at home. I mean, really. I'll be bringing home a whopping forty dollars a week. Really. Not. Worth. It.
On the other hand, though... Food shopping would be slightly easier. And when I'm at home I spend almost no money. Seriously. When I went on leave I had a little over three hundred dollars in my checking account, and I think I've spent fifty of that. So I could hoard money and then blow it all on cloth diapers and adorable clothes, I guess.
For now, though, I'm going to snuggle my baby for the next ten days and pretend that I'm never ever ever going back there. Because, you know, denial is totally healthy, right?
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