Almost One… And Where Did I Go?

Hey! I bet you were all super worried that I disappeared for good. No? Hmmmm. Well, apparently I didn’t. I’m still here. Still alive. I’ve just been… uninspired. I don’t know what to write. And then I do know what to write, but I don’t know when to write it. And then I do know when to write it and I just don’t remember how. Does that sound weird? It is. Like I said in my About section; I’ll write when I want, if I want, when I have something to say. I never said I had important things to say. Anyway…

Rose turns one on Saturday. ONE! For those of you that aren’t parents, let me explain what this means; it means she is totally grown up. She is a big girl. She is no longer my baby. She talks (well, says a few words), she walks (a few feet), and she knows what she wants, when she wants it, and how to get it. The last few days I’ve been reflecting on the past year. I’ve shed a few tears over the passage of time, as I remember the early days when she couldn’t say ‘that,’ when I had no idea what she wanted, but had to figure it out. I think about the days when I had a huge belly. The mornings I woke, had contractions for an hour, and wondered if that would be the day. And then I remember the nights I fell asleep, realizing that day wasn’t her day. And then neither was the next day. Or the day after that. And then, suddenly, if was her day. And it was my day. It was our day. My belly, though far from flat, was no longer her home. My arms were where she belonged. I no longer wondered what her eyes would look like. I didn’t have to question whether she would look like me (she didn’t- to this day she’s her Daddy’s finest work). That day. The day she became mine, she made me something I thought I understood, but really, I had no idea; she made me a Mom. She changed my life. I look at her in awe these days; she’s becoming an individual. I no longer see a baby when I see her. I see my independent, beautiful, silly, willful daughter. I see those same big brown eyes that stared up at me the evening of March 2, 2012. The eyes I looked into that night, the eyes of the baby that I told; “I don’t know what I’m doing, but we’ll figure it out together.” Truer words have never been exchanged between us. Everyday we wake up, everyday is different, and everyday I have no idea what I’m doing, but we figure it out together.

And now… now it is time for us to go. To do laundry. To clean the bathrooms. To read books. To dance. To play with her baby doll. To find things in the carpet. To kiss. To screech. To laugh. To cry. Whatever we do these days, we do together. And we figure it all out.



10 Months 3 Weeks

She’s independent. She’s Mama don’t cuddle me, I’m playing. I have my books and stuffed animals, and I commandeered these measuring cups, and I am really busy. And then she’s looking at me with those pleading eyes, the duplicate of her father, in a tiny body, with delicate features; Mama; I need you now. Don’t you see? My book won’t open, and my cup is empty. And can’t you see my arms? I’m holding them toward you. But when you pick me up don’t you hold me like a baby. And she’s kicking, and screaming in glee; What mama? I’m a little teapot? Oh, do it again and again and again. And I think that deserves a kiss. A snotty, slobbery, toothy kiss. And then she’s off. Into the cupboards. Over the coffee table. Through the gap between the wall and the couch. She’s Mama don’t give me TOYS. I want a remote. A phone. A spatula. A phone charger or salt shaker. And mama? I’m going to scream when you take them away. She’s all kisses, and few snuggles. She’s a diaper baby. She’s don’t you dare put clothes on me, woman. It is a hindrance to my playtime, can’t you see? She’s daring and creative. She’s climbing over the furniture, dancing on her rocking chair; look ma, no hands. I got this. Just you wait. I’m going to give you a heart attack. She’s I don’t need a nap. Please don’t bring me into that room. Please, please, please. Oh, wait, *yawn,* and cuddle, I guess I could close my eyes. She’s I want to feed myself now. No more spoons. Please, let me use these fingers. Look- I’ll even share (at least what I don’t want). She know what she likes. She’s serve me broccoli again? Okay, THAT’S going to the dog. And so is the quesadilla. I want a flour tortilla. Oh, but keep the cheese cubes coming. She’s sure, I’ll say dog-dog and dada all day long. But don’t even try mama… I’m not ready. Don’t push me, please. She’s my little (surprisingly) independent and daring daughter. She was worth thirty-nine weeks of pregnancy  Thirty or so hours of labor. Two hours of pushing. She’s perfect. Watching her grow and change is amazing. She was worth it. Worth everything. 

Because you can’t walk away with only corny memories of this short post.

All the Pregnant Ladies (If You Like it Ya Better Put Some Bio Oil On It)

I’d like to start by saying Rose is still sick. Which is fine, it really is. I mean, I wish she wasn’t, but she is. I always thought that when babies get sick they get all cuddly; that’s what all the other Moms say. Well, I don’t think Rose got the memo. She just sits on the floor whining. And whining, and whining. And whining at the dog. And whining at her stuffed animals. And whining because her book won’t open. And I am like, ‘okay child I love you, but enough with the whining already.’ And then there’s the snot. OH MY GOD. THE SNOT. Since she has no fever, it seems that she just has a cold. A cold that really only has two symptoms; whining and snot. I need to know; when will the whining and snot end? Because it is COLD outside. It SNOWED today. In Dallas. I hate the cold. We’re stuck inside. I can’t run. We can’t go on evening walks. We can’t check the mail. WE CAN’T DO ANYTHING. Which has created an even bigger problem; Maggie (btw; yes, my dog is a genius) is going totally bat-shit CRAZY. She is sprinting around the place like she took too much crack, but needs more, and can’t find her crack, and she knows its here somewhere, and it must be OUTSIDE OUTSIDE OUTSIDE. Only once she gets outside she doesn’t get more than two feet because THE SNOW WILL GET HER! So, I am stuck inside with a whiny snot covered child and bat-shit crazy, which is making me whiny, snot covered, and bat-shit crazy. But that’s okay. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love my life, and I love my ‘job.’ I just wish I could act like it when the husband comes home from work. But instead I hand him that whining, snotty baby and bolt upstairs to clean that snot off me. Unfortunately, the bat-shit crazy was stuck like glue, and we’ll just say I wasn’t nice all night. Sorry, baby; I think we need to go to Bath and Body Works; I think they sell bat-shit crazy removing scrub.

Anyway… last night I had a lot of time to sit and contemplate where I was last year at this time. Namely; pregnant and not covered in snot (I think I was bat-shit crazy and pretty whiny though). So, in honor of myself last year, and all you pregnant ladies out there, all you ladies that have been pregnant, know someone that is pregnant or know some one is pregnant, this one’s for you.

Dear Pregnant Self,

I know you’re in your third trimester. I know you have heartburn. You can’t stop crying at that one Google commercial. I know you are more exhausted you thought possible (except perhaps in the first trimester). I know pregnancy seems like the longest journey ever, and OH MY GOD THIS BABY BETTER BE WORTH IT. It is, trust me, it so is. Even on the snot and whining filled days, it is so, so worth it. And you won’t even understand how worth it is until that baby comes out (however it gets out- I promise, it will come out, and it is completely normal to think that you are going to be pregnant forever- you won’t be). And all those crazy symptoms? The heartburn, bruised ribs, the morning sickness (that they promised would get better but never did), the swollen limbs, and every other uncomfortable symptom out there will go away. They will literally disappear the second that baby is out of your body. Trust me. I had heartburn for the whole two hours I was pushing. The second Rose emerged, it went away. IT WAS GLORIOUS.

I cannot be the only one that was kind of relieved that she was sick. Like really sick. She is human.

Okay, now onto your body. No, it will never be exactly the same. That’s okay. Once that baby is born you won’t care. An extra few pounds or larger hips just won’t seem like a big deal. You either will get stretch marks or you won’t. So stop stressing. But, just in case, if you like it you better put some bio oil on it (plus, it smells and feels good). Got it? Okay. Stop stressing about stretch marks. Seriously. Stop. RIGHT NOW.

No. Don’t blame your baby. Blame genetics.

Okay, now that you’re done stressing about the stretch marks put down the book about child rearing. I know, I know; parenting is crazy confusing, and there is so much information out there. But that’s what Google is for. You know, to research when the problem comes up. Or read the books then. I didn’t read the books. At least not the one’s about how to raise your child. Honestly? You can’t know what kind of parent you will be until that thing comes into the world. Even then your parenting style will evolve everyday. AND THAT’S OKAY. This is coming from the Queen of Research and Preparedness; it is okay not to know what you are going to feed your child when they are six months old. There is this thing called “Mother’s Intuition,” and you will think you don’t have it. You do. So put down that parenting book and pick up a novel (or whatever non-parenting or pregnancy book floats your boat).

Just don’t do this. But you don’t need a book to tell you that.

While you’re at it, slow down with the reading of other people’s birth stories. I know, I adore a good birth story too, but the thing about birth stories is that every single one is different, some of them are terrifying, and in the end don’t really prepare you for labor. Instead; DO WRITE A BIRTH PLAN. Write it with your husband, or partner, or whoever is going to be at the birth. Talk with them about it. But; BE PREPARED TO THROW IT OUT THE WINDOW. I know I did. Most people I know did. That’s okay. Also; RESEARCH BREASTFEEDING. I know, I know, it is the least exciting part of the whole ordeal, right? Well, kind of. But not really, because once that baby comes out, you will want to know how to feed it. And, sure, the lactation consultants are nice, but they have a ton of other women to worry about. So learn about latching, about the pain, about your milk coming in (holy weird) and everything that can come along with it. It will be so worth it when you aren’t shocked that your boobs are on fire, your baby can’t eat, and generally, nothing about breastfeeding is easy. And they promised it would be easy. Let me tell you; it IS EASY. After a week. The first week is hell. I am so glad my lactation consultant told me that in the hospital.

Now that all that research is done; go to the grocery store. BY YOURSELF. Go to the mall. BY YOURSELF. To dinner. BY YOURSELF. Whatever you do, do BY YOURSELF. Well, you can bring a husband or friend or parent, but no children. Because once that baby is born, you will not be able to go anywhere by yourself. Which, honestly, you will be fine with. Except everything takes double the time, and you forget half of the things you need because OH MY GOD THE BABY IS GOING TO LOSE IT’S SHIT (literally, possibly) AT ANY MINUTE. So go do something by yourself. And, while you’re at it, make sure it is not baby related, because soon everything is baby related, and, for awhile, you will forget that there was a time that things weren’t connected to this baby.

I don’t eat bacon… but you get the picture- THIS WILL BE YOU.

Oh, and don’t spend every last cent on baby clothes or baby gear. That’s what grandparents are for. Seriously, the child will be clothed. But, do make sure you have a car seat and somewhere for the little dear to sleep. Those things are important. The other stuff? You don’t need it. I mean, you need some clothes, and diapers, and a swing or bouncer is NICE but not a NEED. My Mom told me this when I was pregnant; she was so right. Plus, stores will still be there after the baby is born, if you decide you do need something.

So, future Mama; take care of yourself. Stress less. Enjoy those little kicks and flutters. The morning sickness will pass. So will the heartburn. It may take until when the child is born, but the awful parts of pregnancy don’t last forever. And on that note; nobody has stayed pregnant forever. And, no, you won’t be the first woman to do so. So, relax, and remember, that one day you really will miss being pregnant. Trust me, for some strange reason I do, and I had the most difficult pregnancy imaginable.