The backlash

It dawned on me last night that I am right in the middle of one of the many phases of running an event for a living. Now that the insanity of the post-event stuff has nearly wrapped up, it is time for The Backlash. As in, despite the event having been a huge success, despite all the kinks being worked out and it getting smoother and smoother every year, invariably the complaints and general negativity come swooping in anyway. Sigh.

So, in the last two weeks, I have been told: it sucks that there were no food buffets (at last Friday's gig), the parking was all screwed up and everyone was overcharged (at a baby shower last weekend), at an event last weekend in Denver everyone was talking smack about my event and complaining about it (at a wedding yesterday), the runner up to my beauty contest wrote a weird blog about it (online), and one of my musicians has decided my event is "beneath" him and he feels like a "whore" playing it (ummm...if playing for 1000 adoring fans makes you feel like a whore, then I don't know what to tell you). So, this is what I get to deal with every year in the weeks following my event. I think I've gotten pretty good about not taking it personally, and understanding that we all criticize events after we attend them; it's just par for the course. And god knows I've said downright cruel things about friends' events that I would be mortified to find out got back to them. So I understand, too, that many of these things were not meant for me to hear. And they weren't said about me, they were said about the event. There is a difference between the two (although I do forget that sometimes).

In the end I'm laughing all the way to the bank, so do I really care? Nope!

Slow news week

This is a random post full of randomness. Mainly things I've been posting about on Facebook. You know things are slow around here when all I can blog about are regurgitated Facebook posts!

One thing that happened is one of the many tour groups I used to use for my international tours sent me an email about a brand new Peru tour that combines Machu Picchu with a trip to nearby Easter Island. I looked at the dates and prices and started calculating in my brain when this fall I could go - totally forgetting I have an INFANT. I had to rouse myself from my reverie. Oh right, I can't do things like that anymore...for, like, a LONG time. I felt myself folding up this dream into a little square, putting it in an envelope, and tucking it away on a shelf. See you next decade!

Yesterday I got a message from one of my hall of fame board members, telling me that our president has resigned, one month shy of our event, and "does not want to be contacted in any way". She (the messenger) and I have been trading calls the last couple of days. I have been dying to hear what the heck happened - although I think it has to do with all of us voting down his desire to be the event's MC. So he resigns and leaves us hanging. Ugh, men and their stupid egos! I think this is a good development, but it does leave our group in a bit of a quandary - nobody wants to be president, so what happens now? It is half on my mind to be president and whip this thing into shape, although any logical person would say, "f them, cut your losses, your son is your priority now." This is true, but - I just want to fix this thing! Just call me St Jude, the Patron Saint of Lost Causes.

One thought I keep having is "this is my son's childhood". Not that he'll remember these days, but this is it - his childhood, a time he'll look back on his whole life, has begun now. Weird, isn't it???

Impressions on Breastfeeding

I noticed with great interest several posts on my Baby Center app last night heralding the end of National Breastfeeding Week. They said they were sick of being made to feel guilty for formula feeding their babies.  And I say, amen.  Yes, as one who’s exclusively breast fed this little one (well, except for that first week), I say, leave the formula feeders alone!

You know I’ve had a contentious relationship with the concept of breastfeeding from the beginning.  Obviously I’m not against it – how can you be? But I am against the politicizing of it. And I’m against the religious-like fervor people tend to have about it. Fact #1 – I was formula fed, and this was in the early 70s when formula wasn’t that great, and grew up to be a perfectly healthy, strong individual (as did nearly all of the nearly entire US population that was formula fed in the 20^th century). Fact #2 – if breastfeeding is so perfect and awesome for our babies, why do we breastfeeders have to supplement our babies with vitamins for the first six months?  Fact #3 – if breastfeeding is so perfect and awesome for our babies, why do breastfed babies tend to lose weight early on (but make it up later) whereas formula fed babies never have this problem?

I believe some of the hype about breastfeeding being “better”, but not all of it. I think once you start listing advantages, they start piling on – one minute you’re talking about better immunity (ok), but then the next it’s higher intelligence? Nobody’s ever proven that. Again, I was formula fed and I think I’m pretty smart.

Still, here I am, an exclusive breastfeeder, and I enjoy it. I’m glad, grateful, indeed, that I’m able to do it, that it works for us, and that my baby is nice and healthy and gaining the right amount of weight. But as I predicted, it is a bit of a pain in the ass. I will say though, now that I’m in it, I would amend that statement to read feeding your baby at all is a pain in the ass. I’ve often wondered how much more disruptive it would be to always have to get up in the middle of the night and mix up bottles of formula – far worse than just rolling over half asleep and sticking a boob in baby’s mouth. When you’re out and about, to have to have enough formula on hand, keep it the right temperature, etc. Always make sure you don’t run out (horrors). But then there’s the breastfeeding bit. One thing I didn’t anticipate was NEVER being able to wear any clothing that can’t be taken down from the top – or conveniently pulled up in a way that won’t leave you naked in public. Most people may not think about this issue, but for me, a dedicated dress-wearer, it’s a real problem. About 75% of my wardrobe is currently unwearable. I tend to wear the same stretchy tank tops and low-cut V neck T shirts over and over. I’m going to a wedding Saturday and can’t wear anything nice, or vintage, because I have to wear something I can breastfeed in…so here we go with the same stretchy jersey tops.

Then there’s the pumping. Oy. Pumping is a constant source of stress for me. I can see how it’s great for working moms who are away from their babies all day and need to a) keep their supply going, and b) express enough milk for the daycare times. But what the heck do you do when you’re home with your baby all day, but also have to pump? Every time I strap the thing on I find myself in an absolute panic, terrified that just after I pump myself dry the baby will be hungry, and it takes a couple of hours to get a supply going again. So far I’ve managed to avoid this by distraction tactics – pump, and then jump in the car for a couple of hours of errands. But I have a couple of things to pump for this week and I’m having a hard time – tried to pump this morning, but I had just fed the baby so I got literally nothing, and had to just stop. And I know from experience that the day is now shot – he’ll be eating a lot later, and my supply is crap after the morning has passed.

At my four month appointment last week the pediatrician said I can start introducing solids at six months, which I figured would be the plan. Six months is now only about six weeks away. I cannot WAIT for this development. I don’t know how Bumpus is going to take to food, or when – just because I can start at the end of September doesn’t mean he’ll necessarily take to it, and I will certainly continue to breastfeed for many months after (assuming I can, and he wants to). But just the idea of the pressure of me being the baby’s sole food-giver being alleviated somewhat makes me so happy – I don’t have to have that terrible, cave woman fear of “what if he’s hungry and I’m all dried up?” that I currently have all of the time (especially when I have to pump for something). The idea of, “here, eat this mashed banana while I pump” makes me very happy.

Lately he’s been feeding differently than before – he’ll often suckle a little bit and then pull off and stare at me, and then try again, and pull off and stare, etc. I often worry if this means I’m drying up…but this has been going on for weeks and he’s gaining weight, so he must be getting something. What does it mean? Is he just waiting for the let down?  (The Let Down is the name of my all moms emo band, btw). Is he connecting the fact that the boobs are part of my body? Is he distracted by things around him now? Who knows? But it is odd.  He’s also super fussy at the boob, squirmy and constantly pulling off like he forgot how to do it. I am dreading this on the trip to NY/DC in two weeks. A fussy, squirmy baby who’s constantly arching his back, squirming, and whining while you desperately try to feed him is no bueno on an airplane.

So as much as I’m kind of looking forward to someday stopping, I know a big part of me will miss it. One of my favorite things in life is to get home from a day out, strip down to my undies for comfort, and hang out with the baby on the bed, just feeding and watching him roll around and explore. I try to do this most days as a nice little cool down after a bunch of errands. Breastfeeding is definitely a good bonding experience – but I posit that it wouldn’t really matter if he were on the breast or if I were cradling him with a bottle; it’s the closeness that matters.

Too darned hot

We're having a bit of a heat wave here in SoCal - not a monster one like we had a few summers in a row a couple of years ago, but temps ticking into the high 90s - low 100s. Occasionally during the day when I feel unusually cranky or lethargic I try to remind myself, "oh yeah, it's frickin' hot". A certain amount of agitation is bound to go along with extreme heat, no matter how good the circumstances otherwise.

Today I called back an 89-year-old friend of mine who votes in the hall of fame thing I'm involved in; she was confused about the voting process, and I was motivated to tell her about the screw up with the nominees...and discovered that this lady had an even different list than the incorrect one on the website - and had already voted for two people who I had removed for very specific reasons. Good Lord! This is going to be a HUGE disaster, and my reputation is on the line, even though I did everything right. At the next (and last, before our induction dinner/dance in Sept) meeting, I will try to see if I can get a recall going. If not, I'll just have to suffer the consequences. I can't imagine the frustration when the people who bought $70 tickets from me because I told them they were nominated discover they got beat out by people who weren't even supposed to be nominated! Believe me I will tell everyone what happened, after resigning. Right now I feel like the four years I've spent on this board has been a total waste of time. Kind of like ending a bad relationship, really. Can't believe I have to pump like a maniac and leave my son with a sitter all day & night to go to this stupid induction dance, ugh! So that had me all pissed off all day.

Fortunately I had several Anthropologie gift cards to blow so I went and bought $130 worth of stuff for $20. Bam.

I declare tomorrow Pool Day, followed by Beach Day Friday. Tonight I took my new pop-up tent out of the box to test it out before Beach Day - it literally leapt out of the box and attacked me, while I frantically tried to read the directions on how to fold it back up. It stood there in the dining room mocking me until I got enough rage going to pounce on it, wrench it back into a little circle and beat it into submission. Take that, tent!

Pulling it together

After the temporary freak out of my last post, I rallied and made it all happen. It was a ton of work - and hard work, physical work, in the hot sun, but I can't tell you how much better it feels to have a house that is in order and not full of over spilling recycling bins and boxes. I had to haul them all out to the shed, and put away all the furniture from my party. I never realized how important things being in order is to me - probably a holdover from my OCD/anxiety days. But especially with a baby, it's super important to be organized and neat. And clean, as my baby's dirty hands from lying on my dirty floor, now indicate.

Part of organizing my event bins turned out to be very lucrative - as often happens when I go through the bins, I discovered a hidden packet of credit card slips from the first night, which included most of the walk-up weekend pass holder payments. After processing them I came up with a whopping $6000, which officially moves me from the "it's going to be another tight year" category to "I might just be able to breathe this time". Which is huge.

In light of this information I decided to convert part of my new life insurance policy to "cash value". It's expensive as heck to do this but could be quite useful later on in life, and my life is always about guarding against future calamity. Because when you make your living off one event a year, you just never know.

Bumpus has finally taken somewhat to the carseat/stroller. As long as he's fed and not particularly agitated, he doesn't cry in the carseat anymore (except today when he woke up hysterical, terrified of the drive through car wash we were in - poor little guy!), and I can actually use the stroller now, which is great considering how uncomfortable baby wearing would be in this heat. I am going to get my hair did tonight and am taking him with me as no sitters were available. My hope is he'll sit peacefully in the stroller. If not, we'll just deal with it!

It's all too much

I'm having one of those days where I just feel totally overwhelmed. I'm allowed, right?

Here's a list of what's going on.

Bumpus is rolling. A LOT. Which means he's not content just lying on his back - he has to flip over, at all times. But then when he's on his stomach he gets frustrated so I have to flip him over...only to have him flip right over to his belly again. Last night he had me up practically all night doing this over and over. This, and peeing all over the bed, and then pooping all over the bed, and then spitting up all over the bed. I changed his diaper three times; normally I don't change it at all. It was a rough night. And makes me wonder how much longer we'll be able to co-sleep, as much as I love it. If he's going to flail around all night every night I don't know if I can do it.

My house is piled high with boxes from the event that STILL need to be gone through and put away. With all the crap I still have to do, I see continuing to live like this for at least another week.

I have no clean clothes, no food, and no clean dishes. I am out of food for all the animals; the office positively reeks of dog piss from locking her in there every night, even though I put doggy pads down, she often misses, and now I'm out of those, too. All of the garbage cans are literally overflowing. Everything is a mess and dirty. I would kill for a housekeeper right now.

After spending weeks on selecting nominees for this hall of fame group I belong to, and hustling to get these nominees' info to our web designer so they can be posted so the board members can start voting, discovered by accident today that all of the info on the web is all wrong, and people have already voted. It's a total disaster. I'm considering throwing up my hands and resigning from the board.

I have TONS of declined or invalid credit card slips to follow up on - which means calling the customers at home and asking them to recite their credit card numbers over the phone to me, which as you can imagine, makes them very happy. And just for the record, no, there is no way to run credit cards during the event; they have to be run once I get home. It's a real pisser.

The woman who shot my event video footage this year, who got a hotel room out of me ($500), several of her friends in free, and partook of the food I provided for my employees, has informed me that her hard drive has crashed, possibly taking all of my footage with it.

Yesterday someone left a long, whiny message on my machine telling me to move my event off of Labor Day because it's going to conflict with this other event in town that he goes to. I am aware of this event, but didn't think it would be much crossover. I still think this, but it does have me a little worried.

I keep telling myself that everything will get done, everything will get put away and organized, that normal life will resume and I'll be able to focus again. But right now everything is chaotic and messy and it has me very concerned - it's just making every day life very difficult. Now is one of those times when I could really use some frigging help, you know?

Settling back in

Bumpus had his four month checkup/shots today. It went much like the two month appointment. A lot of waiting around, a lot of "I hate this I hate this I hate this" playing on an endless loop in my brain, the baby turning bright purple and screaming when the shots happened, but then immediately forgetting about it as soon as I picked him up. One more of these two month-spaced appointments, then I don't have to bring him in again until March, then not again for another year. Love that. Even driving down the Kaiser portion of Sunset Blvd gives me anxiety. Reason # 5,486 why I should NOT have another baby.

I have not had a chance to rest since the event. There's a lot to do still - I am making my way through a giant stack of credit card orders (LOTS of declines this year, which sucks), I still have over $10,000 in checks to write and mail, and my dining room is full of boxes that have to be sorted and inventoried before being retired to the shed for another year. I figure it will be another week before I'm even close to wrapping things up.

Unfortunately I have to take Bumpus to the child care place tomorrow night as I have a singing gig; same deal Monday night. I am facing the unpleasant reality that I may have to start enlisting strangers to watch him - I've worn out my favors, my usual sitters aren't always available, and the day will come when it won't be practical to drag him out of bed at night to take him over to the child care place. Everything will change when he has a bed time, doesn't want me to leave him, and isn't as portable as he is now. But I know as with parents in general and single parents in particular, child care is going to continue to be a thorn in my side. If only we could leave little kids at home alone like it's the Depression again!

Bumpus is outgrowing the smaller of his onesies. Today he weighed in at 13 1/2 lbs. He has chunked up quite a bit in the last couple of weeks, and loves to lie on his belly with his head up, just looking around. It's hard to say how well he's sleeping - I know he wakes up a lot, but I long since stopped checking the times when he wakes and now just stick a boob in his mouth while half asleep.

I often wonder if I'm doing him a disservice by not setting up a schedule at this age. I know that he could have a bed time, feeding times, and nap times at this stage...but it's still a bit of a free for all around here. It's mainly because I don't have to set a schedule - there's no work schedule he has to conform to, and it'll be years until he goes to any kind of school. Does he need more structure at four months old?