Rumblings...

I sit and stare at it. It greets me every morning at 6:00 am. Line upon line upon line of emails. Red exclamation points next to half of them to let me know “look at ME first. I’m important. Reply to ME.” I clean it out daily, hourly at times, but it keeps on going. Adding up to make me feel like I’m drowning in questions that needs answering. How long can I take paternity leave? What if I don’t want to turn in paperwork? What if I’m sick? When do I get paid? I don’t want to answer their questions. There is a little girl at home who is getting too big and growing up too fast and I cannot stand the hours I’m away from her during the day. Reply. Forward. Attach. Repeat. Snooze the Outlook Calendar reminders that pop up endlessly, do this, do that, do it now… you’ve been snoozing this reminder for 3 days now. Work hard, work long and someday it will pay off. I swear that should be the theme song, and, quite frankly, I don't know if I believe it anymore. Maybe this is just momentary stress during a transitional time at work, but its really taking me through the wringer this time...

I ask myself, why do I do this? The answer is simple really. It pays the mortgage, it pays the bills, it pays for food. People have told me-- if you really want things to work you make them work. We gave up our house, they say, moved to an apartment, take the bus everywhere, collect foodstamps…but I’m home with them, the children. You can make it work if you really want to, you’re just selfish. Perhaps. Or Perhaps that is not me. I am the nurturer, the mommy, but also the main provider. I can’t just throw it all away. We have worked hard for our little house, my extremely safe car (you wouldn’t believe the amount of hours…er days… that went into researching car safety), our quiet neighborhood, our providing for ourselves and others in our family who need help. Of course, I could quit my job and stay at home. It would only be a matter of time before we wouldn’t be able to make the house payments anymore, just one month with us having to pay practically a mortgage payment for our sick dog like last month and we’d be done for. We could sell the car, eat cheaper, processed foods. Sure, it could work. Instead of stressing about work I could stress about money. It’s trading one evil for another. Would the payoff be greater than the sacrifice? Possibly. Although, to play devil’s advocate, my girl is happy, well-adjusted and wonderful. I don’t worry about her. In all honesty it’s me I’m starting to worry about.

What wonder is, is there a happy medium somewhere? Somewhere else perhaps? The thought is scary, but at what point it is too much? At what point do I decide that my own quality if life is, in fact, important? That is what I’ve been wondering lately. The what else-s and what if-s are getting to me.

I’ll be back to regular writing soon. I’m in a funk and can’t seem to extract myself. Do you forgive a girl who is just trying to stay above water here? There is so much going on and I have so much to tell you...I promise if you stick around that you'll be glad you did.

How do you deal with whatever stresses you? Let me know.

“For everything you have missed, you have gained something else, and for everything you gain, you lose something else.” 

–Ralph Waldo Emerson

Lucy In a Nutshell...

I took a hiatus from my blog to do something very important and glamorous...like get really, really sick. I don't just mean blow your nose kind of sick, no. I mean, can't get out of bed, throat so sore you can't swallow, face feels like its going to explode with pressure while you, cough until you can't speak kind of sick, just in time for Mother's Day. 

Aside from my horrible sickness I've been enjoying my little family as usual. Lucy is talking up a STORM lately. She is such a smart girl. Sometimes too smart. Recently when she would do something she shouldn't I would say "Lucy, look at me" in an attempt to be stern and explain to her why we don't throw a cup or whack the cat with her book. She would usually laugh at me so I assumed she didn't understand what I was saying. Wrong! We were in her room one day and she was playing around while I put away her clothes and I heard her talking to her stuffed bear. She was sitting the bear on her little table, looking it straight in the face and saying "Yook a Me...YOOK A ME" I almost died laughing. She's smart as a whip, and she's got the attitude to boot. I wonder where she got that...

Lucy at 16 months

She runs instead of walks and doesn't cry usually if she falls. Carries an old, (naked) baby doll and my old stuffed bear (from when I was a baby) around with her everywhere (she rocks them constantly "wockababy, wockababy"). She loves pasta, preferably tiny Trader Joe's cheese ravioli, especially with my homemade tomatoe sauce and meatballs She can feed herself, albiet messily. She likes her gold shoes better then her black ones ("pwit-ahy"). She loves playing in the dirt and getting really "dirtay". She could spend an hour ouside digging in her makeshift sandpit underneath our hammock. She is incredibly smart and already knows the words to her books that I read to her at night before I say them. Her favorate book at the moment is Harry the Dirty Dog. She can count to four. Her favorate number is 9, (she'll yell out "NINE" after eight when you count to ten). She likes to go "wimmin" in the bath. She's started calling me "Mommy" instead of "Mama" and "Daddy" instead of "Dad Dad". She loves to smell anything that grows, something her Daddy taught her from when they walk around our herb garden and pick the herbs and smell them, which means she picks the leaves and flowers off of all my plants and walks around smelling them. She loves cantelope, watermelon, kiwi and apples. She goes to sleep like a dream but 95% of the time wakes up to snuggle in the middle of the night, (feel free to judge me, I don't mind it one bit). She's tall and skinny with a big head, 21% for weight and 85% for height and head (its that big brain in there). She gives a LOOK like you wouldn't believe, somewhere between and eye-roll and a sigh that makes me think that I've got it coming to me when she's a teenager. She got a haircut (well a bang-cut) last week and looks so much like a big girl it makes me want to cry. She's the most amazing thing ever. Ever. I love it. Every minute. 

'In spite of the six thousand manuals on child raising in the bookstores, child raising is still a dark continent and no one really knows anything.  You just need a lot of love and luck - and, of course, courage. "

-Bill Cosby, Fatherhood, 1986

Rough Night...

...someone, anyone...please tell me this gets easier? This is worse than when I went back to work when she was 4 months old. I know, I know -- its just an adjustment and a lot of change for a baby but... its hard when she seems to want anyone but me. Not to mention it's also hard when she acts like I'm trying to murder her when I try to feed her. It was a rough night.

On that note, I was never the type that wanted to keep breastfeeding past a year. Hell, I'm shocked I made it a year (believe me, its been a challenge but that is another story for another day). But now its past a year it breaks my heart just a little bit knowing that fairly soon she'll be ready to be done and that there will be one last time to share that bond. I dwell on that one. last. time. I see it coming it makes me tear up a little thinking about it. Of course there is many, many more fun and exciting times that the future holds, but there is no denying that there's something special between mother and child during those moments and to see the end of those times is, well, a little sad.

::sigh::

Someone out there, please tell me that she'll start acting like she needs or wants her mama again soon?

“Growing up is never easy. You hold on to things that were. You wonder what's to come. But that night, I think we knew it was time to let go of what had been, and look ahead to what would be. Other days. New days. Days to come. The thing is, we didn't have to hate each other for getting older. We just had to forgive ourselves... for growing up.”

-The Wonder Years

An Impossible Task...

Is there anything more impossible that cutting a 11 month old baby's toenails? My very active little lady just cannot sit still for more than a moment and is obviously practicing for her debut as a tap dancer as I attempt, in vain, to cut those tiny, jagged toenails...maybe this means she'll be on So You Think You Can Dance one day, how exciting would that be?! I digress.

Once they started getting long and I realized it would be more appropriate to call them talons I knew I couldn't put it off any longer -- that and I was definitely done with getting scratched by said talons in the mornings while she is raking those sharp baby toenails into my stomach. It used to be so easy when she was smaller, and less..er...bouncy? All we had to do was secretly clip them in her sleep. Now she grabs, bounces and giggles if I even approach her feet with the clippers. Then once I get hold of those chubby, little feet its all over, she's kicking and laughing all over the place. I don't blame the girl, I've got terrible ticklish feet too, but, darling girl, the long toenail look doesn't work for anyone.

Is there some sort of trick to cutting a baby's toenails? We have the "special" baby clippers and I usually give her some sort of toy to distract her while I'm doing it, but obviously the toy is a lot less exciting than those shiny white and orange clippers. Any suggestions aside for going for The Guinness Book of World Records for toenail length? I tried to find a picture of whatever nutty person holds this record but strangely enough I was unsuccessful, count yourself lucky this time! Yuck!

"If evolution really works, how come mothers only have two hands?"
-Milton Berle

One of those nights...

You know, those one where you just can't seem to catch a break? That was my night tonight. Or rather, my crappy day today that proceeded to continue on into my night tonight. Lucy got a cold over the weekend, so she's been pretty miserable with a stuffed up nose and you know what that means, no sleep. So no sleep Saturday or Sunday night. Throw in the fact that Rob came down with the same cold, only 100x worse than Lucy's, and ran a raging fever all last night (it was like sleeping next to a space heater) and you've got a very tired and unhappy little family. Not to mention our power went out last night so no alarm clock this morning. That means I'm scrambling this morning, late to work, sick baby, sick husband... things couldn't get worse, right? How about a raging blocked duct. Wonderful. Now I'm at work, barely getting anything when I'm pumping and feel like my left side is going to explode.

I rush home to pick up Lucy at the end of the day and she wants nothing to do with me. Refuses to nurse and reaches out for my mom when I'm holding her. It just about broke my heart (and my boob). My mom points out its because of my voice. I'm not calm enough, I'm not this, I'm not that. It's a constant thing with my mother, I am always doing something wrong. I finally get home at 7:00 pm after having to pry Lucy from my mother. Rob is still in bed (understandably, he was really sick) and what does Lucy do? Reaches for dad. No amount of cuddles will convince her to stay with mom and by this time I honestly think my left breast is going to peace out so I hand her over to Rob. I get in the shower and try to work out the knot, doesn't work. Damn.

After my should I try to get Lucy to nurse again. Fail. She wants dad. Screw you mom.

At 8:00 I get her ready for bed and try again and now that she seems maybe have a tiny interested in eating and guess what, nothing. Absolutely nothing. No milk. Now she's screaming, my milk isn't coming in, and I'm just about to break down and cry like a baby with her. I give up and put her in bed. She falls asleep immediately (I guess she didn't want to eat after all) and here I am. Totally insane blocked duct. No dinner. Mother to a baby who seems to want absolutely nothing to do with her. Husband who cannot for the life of him figure out why his wife is sobbing in the computer room.

Today I realized that this tiny person that my body made, that I carried for 9 months and for whom I have always been the center of the world, isn't always going to need me. I mean I'm sure today is just a fluke, that she's be "mom mom mom"-ing it up, reaching for me, and snuggling my shoulder like usual tomorrow. But this was the first time, the first time I wasn't the most important person in the room. It's funny but for these 9 months Lucy has really only had eyes for mom. It just made me realize, she's not always going to need me, she's not always going to want me around and that it is amazing how one tiny person can just about break you heart without even meaning to.

What in the world do you do when you just have one of those days?

Edit: She just woke up and all she wanted was "Momom"...man, I am so melodramatic! Chalk it up to lack of sleep and the damn blocked duct, which feels so much better now (since she was hungry as well).

“Change is never easy. You fight to hold on. You fight to let go.”
-The Wonder Years

I'm a Sap...

So tonight I went to read Lucy a story before bedtime and instead of our old standby, Wet Pet Dry Pet Your Pet My Pet, I decided to change it up a little bit by reading something new. What I happened to grab was I'll Love You Forever. Good grief, I got about a quarter of the way through the book and realized my eyes were welling up... ok, I lie, welling up is a definite understatement, in reality I had tears streaming down my face like when I'm cutting an onion. My question to the author is how the hell am I supposed to read this to my child without bawling like a baby?

Lucy, who had long lost interest in this silly book with nothing shiny to scratch or fuzzy to pull, turned to face me and was mesmerized, almost as if to say "What was this wet stuff coming out of Mom's eyes and WHY is she trying to snuggle me like this?" She reached up towards my face with a tiny finger, almost as if to wipe my tears away, and I was just thinking "Oh how sweet" when...bam! A tiny middle finger jabbed gleefully into my eye, followed by shrieks of laughter. She's a real sentimental one my Lucy.

What is your favorite bedtime story book? I need some suggestions, preferably some that won't make me cry!

"I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be."
-Robert Munsch

Labor Story Sharing...

The husband asked a funny question the other night while his cousin and her husband (and their 3 month old baby) were over for dinner. Without us even discussing labor he pipes up:

"Why do women always want to share their labor stories? I mean, what is it with that?"

It was a really random question but it got me thinking, why do I want to share my labor story? I mean hell, I shared mine with millions of people over the Internet, and still to this day if someone mentions pregnancy or labor I can't WAIT to jump in and tell my story."Did you say birth? When I was in the hospital having Lucy..." Is it the empowerment that we feel? I mean, hello, I basically cooked myself up a new, fresh person for nine months and then expelled said person from my body completely by the force of...well, you know the drill.

I mean really, the husband can take credit for helping start the dough, but I baked the bread and toiled over the hot oven... ok, I can't think of an analogy with baking bread for labor, but you know what I mean, I did it. I did it for 9 months and then even at the end when I was exhausted, swollen, stretched and completely breathless with either a. seriously diminished lung capacity from the size of my pregnant belly or b. anticipation, I did it. I labored for almost 30 hours and I'm proud of it, I want to relive it in my mind because I'm still amazed at it. I want to do it again because I can't believe that I did it the first time (clearly mom-nesia has set in, no?).

I love telling my labor story to anyone who actually asks to hear it. I'm delighted when someone asks because then it gives me the chance to share something that before I had Lucy I always assumed I would consider extremely private and personal. I want to point at her and shout, "Hey, do you see this amazingly gorgeous child? I had her. Me! I did it!" and then I'll nod my head towards Rob and say, "This guy, yeah, he helped. But, hey it was mostly me and let me tell you it was a cold January day...".

What about you?

"Birth is the sudden opening of a window, through which you look upon a stupendous prospect. For what has happened? A miracle. You have exchanged nothing for the possibility of everything."
-William MacNeile

Flashback...

Last year at this time I was in the dreaded limbo of the two week wait. Wow. I cannot even remember how it felt to be trying and trying without succeeding for what seemed like forever.

Motherhood is everything that I had hoped and dreamed of and so, so much more than I ever expected. My floor needs mopping, I have three loads of laundry to do and I should get out into the garden and weed, not to mention my blog needs updating more often...but right now I have a tiny precious person sleeping on my bed and there is nothing more amazing and wonderful than when she opens up her eyes and smiles when she sees me.

I can't seem to remember how I felt last year or how difficult the journey was, maybe that is because I can now see that it was all part of a greater plan. Waiting DID make it all the much more worth it and my Lucy was SO worth the wait. It doesn't get any better than this.

"I've got sunshine

On a cloudy day,
When it's cold outside,

I've got the month of May.

Well, I guess you'll say

What can make me feel this way?

My girl.
Talkin' 'bout my girl.

I've got so much honey

The bees envy me.

I've got a sweeter song

Than the birds in the trees.

Well, I guess you'll say
What can make me feel this way?
My girl. "

-The Temptations "My Girl"