Fighting the Losing Battle With Sleep: My Sleep-Deprived Ramblings

Right around three months post-partum, things were going good. I had a rhythm to my days. I had the right balance of outings and sweet time spent at home with baby. I felt in synchronicity with my baby. I felt rested (well, rested for a new mom). I felt like I could do this forever.

In Mommy Group, when people talked about sleep problems, napping, or putting baby on a schedule, I just naively tuned it out. I felt like we didn’t need a schedule. I was so “in tune” with my baby that I just followed his lead and when he started to get tired I put him down for a nap. And by “put him down,” I mean literally all I had to do was PUT HIM DOWN and he would sleep. Sigh. Oh, the beautiful naiveté. Also, I bristled against schedules because, well, it’s a schedule. I wanted to be spontaneous and free and able to go out and socialize. My baby was so adaptable that he would “nap wherever” and then wake up happy and refreshed. Oh and the whole idea of the Four Month Sleep Regression? Pish Posh. I was sure that wouldn’t happen to us. Seriously. I have no idea why I thought this, but I thought it was just some made up thing that people said to label their ongoing sleep difficulties.

Wow. That all makes me sound like a bitch, doesn’t it? Let me stop and clarify. I didn’t judge other people. In fact, I told everyone that you need to do “what works for you” in order to feel sane and happy. It just so happened that I thought “what worked” for us was to be flexible and relaxed and in tune with the moment. I thought if I just responded to what my baby needed, that we would be happy and I would never get stuck in “oh, we can’t go right now, because he naps from 11:02-12:35.”

Also, Sleep Training. I thought this was overrated as well. I mean, as a psychologist, I understand that the behavioral principles of gradual exposure and extinction work, but I also thought if you just used common sense and perseverance, you wouldn’t need to be so regimented about it. Are you seeing any themes here? First, clear avoidance of any type of structure or regimented schedule. Second, an exorbitant dose of big-headed ignorance.

So…what happened? Four Months. Yes, it appeared whether I believed in it or not. Literally, the weekend that Owen turned four months we moved to a new city and through off our routine. Owen also began teething. AND he learned to roll over both ways (a new fun skill to try out all night long in his crib). Ohhh and we thought it would be a good time to start having him sleep at night in his big crib (still in our room). So all of these things added up and….guess what? Four Month Sleep Regression.

And now here I am. One month later and still not sleeping. And by not sleeping I mean seriously. Not Sleeping. Naps have turned into 30 minute affairs and nighttime is on Newborn Schedule of waking every 1-3 hours. I am exhausted. Exhausted, emotional and bitchy. Oh, and vulnerable. Vulnerable enough to let doubt pierce my earlier blissful confidence. When a friend of mine, a 2nd time mom, started lecturing me about exactly how many naps Owen should have per day and how long he should sleep and what time he should go to bed, I listened. Listened when a month ago I would have smiled, nodded, and brushed it off as I kept going with what felt right for me. This time, I listened, then fell into a spiral of self-doubt and desperation and “What am I doing wrong???” It’s amazing how a little bit of lost sleep will shatter your confidence/cockiness.

So. I’ve been thinking. Thinking and reading. I’ve been approaching this from both an intuitive, emotional perspective as well as the analytical research side of me who just happens to be a child psychologist. In other words, I’ve spent some time getting “in tune” with myself and with Owen. I’ve also spent some time with my textbooks and journal articles.

Here is what I’ve come up with.

Now, these are just my Thoughts for This Week. They are subject to change at any time when Owen catapults into a new developmental stage and completely rocks my reality again. Also, I may be a child psychologist, but I am not an expert in infant mental health, and I am not talking in the capacity of a psychologist right now, just a mom who is tired. But, here goes…

Being a new mom is hard. Especially a first time mom. Put sleep deprivation in the mix and it’s harder than hard. According to psychological researching, behavioral methods (sleep training), do work, but only when used effectively and not with any consistent efficacy prior to six months. And so, we are left fumbling in the dark (literally and metaphorically). What parents want is a method for dealing with this new reality. Which is why people will may hundreds to Sleep Trainers to put their life back in order.

But who is right? The old me who believed in intuitively following baby’s lead and flexibly adapting each day? The burnt out me who is considering regimenting everything from naps to diaper changes if it will just make him SLEEP?

Neither.

Both.

Because I’ve decided it’s not about what you do, it’s about why you do it. In order to get through this, you need to be able to have some sense of control and belief that you are, to some degree, in charge of what is happening to your life. Now, don’t get me wrong…I also believe you need a healthy acceptance that your life is not your own during this time and that nothing is permanent during this first year (years?). But, for your own mental health and sanity, I think you need to find something that gives you the sense (whether real or imagined) that you have a bit of control. If that means putting your baby on a schedule, then by all means do so. If that means, wearing your baby around for every single nap…go for it. If that means co-sleeping with baby perma-attached to your boob, ok! As long as what you are doing is healthy for you and baby…sounds great!

In other words, I don’t think there is a one, Correct Way to approach this, but I think we each need to find our Own Way. Otherwise, you end up like me, knocked off my pedestal, lost, and doubting every decision I’m making. As long as you have a plan and feel you are doing your best to be the Parent, rather than feeling like the baby is running the world and you’re simply Forest Gump’s Feather, then you’re doing good. Right?? Oh, who knows.

I also think that your method should come from being thoughtful and aware. When I’m just blindly trying to react to each thing that comes up without planning or preparing or consciously responding, I tend to feel more lost. When I don’t know why I’m doing something, it tends to be less effective and I feel more desperate. What I mean is, if the baby is crying and my plan is, say, to bounce him to sleep on the ball, but then his cries get louder and I give up…I feel lost. If I were to step back, think, and remember “Oh right, he always cries a bit louder before he falls asleep, so I’m going to stick with this a few minutes and see if he quiets down,” then I’d probably have more success. Also, on a grander scale, I think we need to know why we make big decisions such as, whether to follow a set schedule or whether to use a Sleep Training method. If your answer is – because it makes me feel better or because it works for my baby or because it makes sense based on my research, then good for you. My problem was, I was just starting to let other people tell me what to do without checking in with what I thought.

Anyhow, that’s all I’ve come up with so far. My little pearls of wisdom that, if you read between the lines, don’t really tell you anything at all. Also, my philosophical ramblings haven’t gotten me anywhere in the real world. We’re still not sleeping at night. Philosophy and analysis are no match for teeth piercing through gums.

What I can say is, I’ve changed my attitude a bit. I’ve started paying more attention to Owen’s needs again. And when I did, I realized he’s no longer on a newborn schedule, even though I was half-heartedly trying to stick to it. He doesn’t need to nap every 90 minutes, but rather every 2 hours or so. As a result, he’s napping better. Which helps my sanity because I get some time to myself to rest or get things done. But, at the same time, I’m trying to keep enough of my old self to know that this too will change depending on the day and as he grows older. In the meantime, I’m just trying to pay attention, be rationale, and not get swept up in the current of exhaustion so I once again begin to doubt myself and become an ineffective mess.

Update - I wrote this post a month ago and then didn’t post it. I suppose because it seemed silly to post an entire post about sleep in which I admit I really don’t believe there is An Answer to the Problem. But, maybe it will help others to read it, so here goes…I’m posting. And, you may wonder…have we made any progress? No, not really. Owen is transitioning from 3 naps to 2 and he’s going down much easier for naps because I’m watching to see when he’s tired and ready. So that’s nice. Nighttimes? We’re getting 3-4 hour stretches now. I still haven’t sleep trained or anything close. It’s just so much easier to feed him (takes about 7 minutes and then he’s back to sleep!). But I may have to try something soon. Six Months is this week and it feels like a big milestone and might be time to start fighting the battle. Props to Sunny at Cease and Decyst for winning hers!

Oh, and just because....here's a few pics....:)

Mommy Dating - It's a Real Thing

Before I got pregnant, an aspiring film-maker friend of mine (don’t we all have one of those?) told me she wanted to make a documentary about "mommy-dating.”

”About what?” I said.
”Mommy dating,” she said.
”Mommy what?”
"Mommy. Dating.”
”What?”

Yeah. I had no clue. But it’s a real phenomenon. How many blog posts have been dedicated to this topic? Unless you are a part of a very select group that happens to be on the same trajectory and everyone pops out their babies within six months of each other, you are likely to find yourself with a major friend overhaul happening once you come up for air after the 4th trimester.

In LA I belonged to a really nice group of women connected with the birth center. We met weekly for a “Mommy Group” and I always felt supported, comforted, and included. I never felt awkward, left out or not good enough. Except of course, when the topics turned to the crunchier side regarding things such as vaccines, amber necklaces or placenta encapsulation (thanks Lorna for pointing this out!). But, in conjunction with this group and the few friends I had that were also having kids, I had a pretty good social group/support network.

Now that we’ve moved, I’ve joined Meetup. Apparently Meetup is a mecca for new moms looking to find their other mommy-half. You can find a Meetup group for anything. And they get quite specific. Mommies in North County San Diego. Mommies in Coastal North County San Diego. Mommies in Coastal North County San Diego whose Babies Were Born in Late 2013. Mommies in North County San Diego who Want Their Babies to Learn Spanish. Mommies Who Like Eating Italian Food and Drinking Wine and Have Babies Learning to Crawl. Seriously. All real groups I’ve joined. Well, ok, except the last one. But I’m sure people would join that.

So, today I went to a Meet and Greet for one of those groups. It was supposed to be a “good first meeting” where you could “meet other mommies” (are you sick of the word mommies too?) and “introduce yourself and your baby.” Now, I’m not really that good at these types of situations. I mean, I am good at making conversation and I’m pretty extroverted, but I hate those awkward First Meetings where you have to make polite chitchat. I’m not good at “polite chitchat.” I’d prefer to skip that and get to interesting subjects like – “So does anyone really enjoy postpartum sex??”

I got ready for my mommy date in the typical way. I brushed my hair I didn’t have time to wash today and tried to make it look cute-ish with some sad little bobby pins. I put on make up (!!). I got dressed in my new LuluLemon clothes that are way too expensive for someone who doesn’t exercise but still the perfect SAHM clothes. And I went.

Instantly I felt out of place. I had the wrong blanket (too small). My baby was the wrong age (too young). And I was “too hippy” (Ring Sling instead of Stroller, breastfeeding instead of bottle). Also, everyone seemed to know each other. So there I was, instantly transported back to high school. The odd girl out, feeling awkward. But I decided I was going to make this work. I am interesting and fun. And…if that’s not true, at least I have an adorable baby who instantly impressed everyone with his “sitting-up-at-5-months” skills.

But my adorable baby is teething. And not-crawling. And really pissed at his not-crawling-state. Especially when surrounded by crawling and walking babies. Also, I began to feel very “not fun and not interesting” as I realized how pretty and together these other women are. I mean, I’m not sure what the difference is. It seemed half of them were also wearing the privileged, SAHM uniform of LuluLemon head to toe. But, they didn’t seem to struggle with clothes clinging weirdly to love handles, or fear that their butt looks too big, or wondering if they shaved their legs today because the cute yoga pants also happen to be cropped pants. I mean, don’t get me wrong, these women were all complaining about “not having time to do their hair or makeup anymore” whilst I looked at their pedicured toe nails. One mom even said she “never washes her hair anymore” while I looked longingly at her cute messy curls.

And so I sat with my fussy baby, trying to act like I fit in, trying to smile, and hoping that I would meet A Friend and wondering why this is so hard?

The truth is, my view of today is filtered through a sleep-deprived state and directly related to the fussiness of my teething baby. On a better day, I may have noticed that the moms were being nice and trying to include me in conversation, even though their babies were at totally different stages. Or I may have not fixated on the 120-lb blonde girls with cute clothes and noticed the normal looking, slightly overweight moms. Or maybe I would have gotten past myself enough to actually make some friends.

But, I didn’t. I gave in to Owen’s fussiness and left early.

I know I’ll go back. Some of them were really nice. And this was only one outing. I’ve gone to others where I’ve met friends and crossed the line to the “Exchange Numbers” stage and the “Individual Playdate” stage. So really, it’s not that bad. Everything is fine. I suppose this is just a post to all of us to say – Hey, I get it. It’s hard being a woman no matter how old you are.

Cute, even when he's a fussy, sleep-deprived baby.

Just Some Little Updates

My little tiny baby is now five months old. He is a little person now, with an extroverted personality, a ready-for-anything attitude, and a sense of humor. He weighs 17 pounds and is wearing nine month clothes. He was sleeping through the night, but ditched that habit around four months and has never looked back. Now he is revisiting newborn behaviors of waking every 2-3 hours. So fun for all involved. He has mastered rolling both ways, pivoting, sitting up, and doing some pretty cool yoga poses. He is in love with his kitty and now loves to grab Bear’s black fur and grin at him. The cat tolerates it, surprisingly.

He is an active, active baby. Always likes to be doing or seeing something. This means that, as long as he is doing something, he is a happy, happy baby. Everyone always compliments me on how happy he is. And he is. He really is. BUT. The flipside is – he always needs to be DOING something. So that doesn't leave room for sitting and snuggling. Yesterday I felt guilty because he was still recovering from his shots and so he sat in my lap and snuggled all morning and I LOVED it. So, to compensate, I’ve gotten really into babywearing. I think babywearing is such a nerdy term, isn’t it? But…I’m sold. I now own a Moby (he’s outgrown it), the Beco Gemini, a Maya Wrap Ring Sling, a Babyhawk Mei Tai, and a beautiful Girasol Woven Wrap. Babywearing is an expensive habit! I have my eye on another woven wrap and a replacement for his Beco when he outgrows it. But, I love it. I can strap him to my back to get things done, or wrap him up tight against my chest when he needs to be snuggled to sleep. Somehow, when he’s worn, he turns all cute and cuddly.

He refuses to take a bottle. The irony of all ironies, considering how hard breastfeeding was to begin with. I try every day, switching it up with different bottles and sippy cups. We’re making progress. Now I can get him to take one ounce. ONE ounce. Sigh. My strong-minded boy. This lack of taking a bottle takes the “mommy and me” thing to a ridiculous level. I can’t be away from him for very long because he will need to eat. Thank god I’m not working right now.

So I guess that’s an update on Owen. I’m sure most of you are eyes-glazed-over in boredom by this point. But I just had to share. Mostly as an excuse to share some pictures with you. Prepare yourself…here come the photos!

Reshaped

I want to be honest about something.

When I started this blog, the pregnancy (and definitely the baby!) was a vague, nebulous idea…something I wanted because I knew I wanted to have a child and knew I wanted to be a mother. But I had no idea in hell what it really and truly meant. My blog was so sweet. Talking about morning sickness affecting my sense of self and the importance finding the perfect stroller. All in preparation for this big change that I didn’t really understand. I thought it would just be us + baby. Or me + baby. But still me. Still us.

What I didn’t understand is, having a baby is not like that. It takes who you were and smacks it around a bit, softens it up, and remolds it into something new. Right now I think I’m coming out of the kiln and looking around for some pretty glaze to brighten up the new me. Because the old me? Gone. I mean yes, I am still shaped out of the same old clay. I haven’t…I dunno, switched political affiliations, developed a religious calling or suddenly taken up baking…but in some ways I am wholly different.

So here goes - I was a selfish person before having a baby. I’m not great at sharing. I can be extremely lazy. I don’t like cleaning up after others. I can sometimes give up when things get hard. I have a tendency to let my husband “rescue” me. And I can just be a bit of a whiny brat. Or at least…all of that was true before.

Then I gave birth. Nine hours of pushing and fighting with my own deep darkest self in order to convince myself to keep going, to not give up, and that no one could swoop in and save me. I still cry when I think about how the small, secret, shameful parts of me reared up during birth and said, “No. This is too hard.”

And after he was born? Breastfeeding. Six weeks of repetitive emotional and physical pain that made me want to say again, “I can’t do this. It’s too hard. Can someone else please step in?” Pain that would make me curl into a ball and cry on the bed for my own mommy. Except, I had to keep going.

And then? Motherhood. I began to chafe against the role of being “the one” who goes to takes the baby to bed while everyone else stays up and enjoys themselves. I cringed at having to give up my own meal to take care of my baby. I felt uncomfortable in the role of being the one who gave up in order to give.

The new me has no room for selfishness. Because, frankly, even though I didn’t feel like I could push him out, the truth is – I did. And even though the breastfeeding seemed inhumanely hard – it is now one of my favorite interactions with my baby. And even though I may not like being “the one” who does the majority of the work – I’m learning to do it. And the major difference is I am learning to do these things and be these things innately, minus the resentment or frustration.

And so yes, motherhood has changed me. For the better. I’m not a saint. I still lose it and complain and get resentful and get tired and bitchy. BUT. I am not the same selfish girl I was before. I’ve been reworked into something better.

Wear the Shirt

At almost four months postpartum, getting dressed is still hard. Enormous breasts make my shirts end awkwardly above my waist. More than ample hips refuse to fit into pre-pregnancy pants. Clothes need to be easy access to accommodate breastfeeding. And certain accessories (fun jewelery, cute heels) are just not practical - or safe! - while carrying around an infant. All of this results in many hours standing forlornly in my closet, trying to find something to put on that while make me feel comfortable and attractive at the same time. Well, no, not really...no one has hours to spend standing in their closet when they are a mom to an infant, but...you get the idea.

So, recently, when on a trip to The Grove, I walked by a store where the clothes looked feminine, loose, and comfortable, but still stylish. Of course, any clothes that can truly boast all of those qualities aren't exactly cheap, right? But, I decided the cost was worth it and invested in a few new shirts. I love all of them...when wearing them I feel pretty, comfortable in body, but plenty of steps above my typical outfit of yoga pants and a too-small t-shirt.

So, yesterday, when getting dressed to take Owen to the doctor's office, followed by a lunch with friends, I came upon the dilemma. Do you wear the nice shirt knowing the day is "nothing special" and that wearing the shirt means the super soft material will be wrinkled by grabby baby hands and slimed by baby drool and even potentially stained by leaking breast milk? Or do you save the shirt for a day when you will be going out without baby and you can be yourself and not worry about ruining the clothes?

And then it hit me. When do I go anywhere without Owen? Hardly ever. At the moment, I am content with that. I enjoy having my sidekick with me wherever I go (hey, we even "enjoyed" a trip to the DMV!). But what does that mean? Does that mean my nice, pretty clothes literally just stay on the shelf? In other words, do I disregard the time and attention to myself that makes me feel confident and attractive? Do I disappear into "being a mom?" Because, believe me, that is tempting and easy to do. I say it to myself all of the time. "Those black yoga pants have faded into a depressing shade of grey and that shirt is more wrinkled than not...but hey, it's ok, I'm a mom." Or, "I'm not sure when the last time I washed my hair was...but, it's ok, I'll throw it in a ponytail because, hey, I'm a mom."

So sure. "Being a mom" is a viable, acceptable excuse/reason for looking "bland and natural." But is it an excuse for not taking the time to feel good in our own bodies? I remember the first time I painted my toenails after Owen was born. He was maybe...two months? I felt deliciously giddy, like I was getting away with something to take the time to do something as frivolous as painting my toe nails pink. But, the truth is, it's more important to me to spend the time rolling around on the floor with Owen trying to teach him about the world than it is to make sure my makeup is done.

So. Back to my dilemma yesterday. Do I put on the $80 dollar shirt that is such a soft, gentle fabric and a sweet shade of coral and makes me feel "pretty" again just for a visit to the doctor's office? All the while knowing that wearing it will subject it to the wear and tear of motherhood? And then I realized. Leaving the prettyness on the shelf is ridiculous. This is my life now. Wearing faded, too-tight clothes while I wait for this to "pass" is stupid. Motherhood doesn't "pass by." This is who I am. And I can choose to leave certain parts of me on the shelf because they might not be the perfect fit for this lifestyle, or I can choose to find a way to make it work.

So, I wore the shirt. I felt pretty. The shirt got wrinkled and drooled upon. And I felt like a mom. But a pretty, happy, smiling mom. So I guess what I'm saying guys is....wear the shirt!

Metamorphosis

So I went today to have an IUD put in. It was the first time back in that type of “clinical” setting since the birth. Oddly, the doctor’s office was right across the street from the hospital where I had Owen. The whole experience showed me just how much I am still recovering emotionally from my birth experience. Even walking by the hospital entrance got my heart racing. Lying there, with my legs spread, feet in stirrups, and watching the doctor come at me with these two-feet-long instruments she was about to put up inside my uterus, my heart was more than racing. I am a trauma therapist and even so I am amazed by how much triggers of a traumatic experience can affect our minds and bodies. After the actual insertion (not too painful physically – just cramping and pinching), I realized I was lightheaded and dizzy. And then, in the car, I felt myself tearing up. So, I suppose even though three months have gone by and I am physically healed from giving birth, my mind just hasn’t caught up yet.

I am not really sure how to “heal” from this. I don’t think I need to go to therapy, because I am processing with myself and with my husband and I am sure that I will have recovered by the time I decide to have a second child. Also, I am finding that our attempts to have sex again, while extremely emotional and somewhat frightening for me, are actually healing me emotionally. Almost replacing the memories and sensations for me.

So, I suppose, I will give it time. Even today, having a medical procedure and having a birth control device inserted, is symbolic of healing. Not only was I able to have a good, positive experience with an OB (thank you Lorna and E for the recommendations!!), but I am committed that I won’t have another baby for a little. That gives me time to heal in more ways than one.

Meanwhile, I am also committed to this decision to move to San Diego! And, with it, to my new role as a “stay at home mom.” I keep qualifying this new role by saying things about my “career goals” and how I feel “start looking” when we move down there. But let’s face it – for awhile anyhow – I am going to be a stay at home mom. And I am excited about it! I am realizing how much more I like myself in this role. Not only do I like the things that I do with my time – going for walks, watching sunsets, frequenting the Farmer’s Markets I never had time for before – but I like the way that I am in this role. I find myself being less lazy, more productive, more social, more competent, more mindful, calmer, happier, and all around content. When I do go back to work, I hope to figure out how to keep these parts of myself integrated into who I am now. It almost feels as if, before motherhood, I was just getting through life. Putting my head down and charging through the layers and layers of stress and work and overload that I had to deal with. But now I feel on top of life and capable and happy and as if I am enjoying the moments more. I know this honeymoon period may fade and I will find myself craving my individuality and my professional self, but for now, I may as well admit it – I like staying at home with Owen!

And Owen? He was three months old yesterday! He is literally JUMPING out of the 4th trimester into this new stage of life. When we were at the doctor’s office today, she kept getting distracted by him because he is so smiley, happy, and socially engaging. She finally asked, “Are you sure he’s only three months old? I cannot believe how social he is!” We get that all of the time. Since birth, people have thought he was older than he is. I always say it's because he has so much hair, but it’s more than that. He is really connected, alert, and engaged with people. My dad called him an “old soul.” I don’t know about that, but he definitely draws people in.

So that is where we are…healing, growing, changing, and crystalizing into something new. So I will leave you with another question - Do you think we make our own identities by choice or are we shaped by the situations and roles we are playing?

From Three Weeks to Three Months!

And one more, because I am suddenly becoming obsessed with "Baby-Wearing"...

Your Thoughts Please

I've shared before here and here about wanting to move out of LA one day. B and I had decided after our trip North that Sonoma area would be our "dream escape from LA." We took a trip up there this summer to scout out the area and decided we were 1-3 years out from being able to relocate, if all went well.

I had settled in to wait it out with Los Angeles. I continued to have a love-hate relationship with the gorgeously plain hipsters on Abbot Kinney. Chose to ignore the traffic that makes my baby scream on a daily basis. Vowed to spend more time communing with whatever nature I could find and visiting the waves that are less than a mile from my house.

But sometimes, when you have made your peace, Opportunity sneaks up and kicks you in the head.

Amongst our many visitors and fieldtrips from daily life, we spent a weekend in San Diego. We commented on how much "calmer" it was, how much more "real" people looked, and marveled at the fact that the beaches are so much more beautiful. And then we headed home and settled back into LA. Until someone jumped on Craigslist and pointed out the difference rental prices between LA and San Diego. And then someone else pointed out that B could just as well run his company from down south and then commute up when necessary. And then BOOM it hit me that this would be an escape out of going back to work.

We daydreamed a little. Spent some time on Craigslist. Daydreamed some more. Discussed with our family that was visited. And slowly, the dream about escaping Los Angeles was becoming a plan. And my excitement began to blend into anxiety as I realized, holy shit, is this happening?

And so people, here we are, only a few weeks later, looking at the very real possibility of relocating in less than 2 months. So real that we have already gone to look at houses down there. Let me explain the reasons why we are NOT crazy before I share the reasons why I am freaking out.

1) The lease is up on our current house in March.

2) I am scheduled to go back to work in March.

3) We would have to start paying our Nanny in March.

4) My sister (my best friend and B's employee) said she would be happy and excited to relocate with us.

5) My sister's boyfriend lost his job right after we started considering this idea and said his friend could find him a job in San Diego.

6) We found a perfect home with extra bedrooms, a back yard and a pool. A home that is a mansion by LA standards.

7) The house is north of SD a little ways and so the commute for B (and my sister) would only be 1.5 hours when he needed to drive up.

You might be wondering...wait, you said you wanted to move to Sonoma? So what are you doing going South? Oh well, at this point, I just want to be somewhere different. Plus, we are looking at it as a practice run to see if B's business can handle him being out of LA, but in San Diego he wouldn't be too far away to still commute easily. Sooo here we are. Within the span of two weeks we have possibly (most likely) made the decision to uproot everything and move.

So what are the downfalls? This is something we've been wanting for awhile. Our quality of life will change considerably in terms of our home and pace of life. My husband and sister will both be working from a home office at our house and so will be closer to Owen. AND I have a way out of having to go back to work, giving me more time home with Owen before I start looking for a new job. Seems like there are no downfalls, right?

Well here is where I need you all to jump in and talk me out of freaking out. Even though I have been dreading going back to work and even though I haven't been very happy with my current job, I DO love my career of being a psychologist and it is a very important part of my identity. My plan if we move is not to quick entirely, but just to "take a break" and then start looking for part-time work to ease back into it. Sounds good. And yet....

And yet I feel like a stereotype. When I left for maternity leave, everyone was teasing me that I "wouldn't come back" or that I would become a "stay at home mom" and I assured all of them that I would come back because I loved being a psychologist. They all looked at me with knowing eyes and said ok, we'll believe when we see it. And now? I will have to go back to work to wrap things up and listen to their "I told you so" chorus.

But ok, no big deal. It's not about what they think. It's about what I want, right? Well ok, then if I look long and hard at what I want, I realize that dual sides of my personality are battling once again. I want to stay home and watch my son change (yesterday he rolled over and giggled for the first time, all in one day!) and be this calm, relaxed, happy person that I've been for the past two months. But, at the same time, it terrifies me to quit working, even for a short time. Because, will I fall behind? Will I get hired again? Am I letting down my current job? Am I letting down myself? Am I letting down our future by not bringing in my income? And mostly, most important of all, will I resent my new role? Because, I love staying home. But I could see that I would begin to chafe against it and feel the need to go back to work.

Argh, I am just rambling here. Basically, my mind is spinning at the fact that we are going to walk away from the life we are currently living - a life that is very good, stable, and happy - for the possibility of a different, better life. And in doing so, I am going to shift my identity - for a little while - into something new. The part of me that loves changing is charging forward into this new life. But my logical side is holding back and wondering if I am making a irresponsible decision.

Whew. Advice? Thoughts? Have you ever made a huge decision in the hopes of a better life? Do you tend to lean more towards logic or emotion when you make your decisions? Am I making a mistake in my career to chase a dream? Any input is appreciated.