Baby's Best Friend X 2

Little A had the time of her life chasing my parents' dog around over Christmas. He's the perfect baby dog since he's sweet, old, and very experienced with kids (having gone through Little A's four cousins' assault). Every morning she would wander around looking for the dog calling "woof, woof" (well, minus the "f") and excitedly point at him over and over, shouting "dog" (minus the "g") when she found him. I'm kind of sad for her now that she doesn't get to see him every day anymore, but not sad enough to go out and buy a dog or anything. Here she is rocking her new party dress with the old guy.


Her other best friend chose her. Here she is:

Cousin L, my brother's three-year-old, spent a lot of time following Little A around, hugging her and speaking to her in a high-pitched voice that I'm guessing some older folks couldn't even hear. Actually, I'm kind of looking forward to being too old to hear it myself. She was a very attentive cousin and very sweet and Little A endured well the invasion of her personal space. In fact Little A's eyes lit up when we saw this picture and she said something sort of almost approximating Cousin L's name.

Little A also got in some playtime with Cousin K, who is only 6 months older than her, though they did not quite become best friends due to their competition. Maybe next time.

Solstice Again

I swear it is always winter solstice. Okay, not really. Only on winter solstice do I feel that it is always winter solstice. In fact, I was sure that I had posted a winter solstice blog for every year I have been blogging; that's how sure I was that solstice was omnipresent. It turns out I only referred to it twice since 2004 and only once did it have its own post. In both posts I referred to it as a "hopeful" time, I think in order to convince myself. Otherwise I would probably call it Depression Awareness Day. But, I am completely okay with saying things are cool in order to convince myself that things are indeed cool. How about:

1. "Fake it til you make it"
2. "Be the change you want to see in the world"
3. "Smile and the whole world smiles with you"
4. "Hope is believing despite the evidence and watching the evidence change"

Snappy as they are I like these quotes because they give you something to do when it seems everything's gone to hell. Hey, at least there's more sunlight every day now. Bonus points if you know who said any of these without googling.

And now . . . Christmas!

See you guys on the plane. We will be the ones with the screaming baby. Would you like to borrow my ipod loaded up with the top 25 songs of the year, via All Songs Considered? Sorry, dude, that's as loud as it goes.

LCD's Rock and Roll Show!

This post is empty because I wasn't there, due to illness. Boo hiss.

Flashback December

So the other day, the baby and I were listening to my "It's a Cool, Cool Christmas" cd and this song--of all songs--made me tear up:

Everything's Gonna Be Cool This Christmas by Eels (This link is weird, but I'm too lazy to find a better one)

(By the way, hyperemotionality is apparently a side effect of having babies. And of getting older. So, it's not my fault that "E" really got to me.)

Let's just say last Christmas with our wonderful/fussy/sleepless newborn was tough. I can certainly imagine tougher Christmases, but for us it was hard enough that we declared December 26th a do-over Christmas day as we had not managed to do a single thing to celebrate Christmas on the 25th. Later that week we found out little A had acid reflux and colic (whatever that is) and it all started to make sense.

December, so far, has been the month of flashbacks for me. I'm remembering the beauty of my precious newborn and I'm remembering how agonizing that first month was. But, also, it was kind of sacred in a way. I feel like my whole being was carved out from the inside to make room for this new mommy person.

Anyway, this Christmas is gonna rock.

Also, LCD wants me to share this song with my many readers as well:

Cakeface

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We survived the year!

I felt like today was a little microcosm of the last year. Maybe that's not the right way to explain it. But anyway, our lovely babe's behaviors and experiences seemed to follow the pattern of the last twelve months all in one day. Words are failing me because I'm tired and I have no blogging pride.

The first couple hours today were rough. The poor baby has a cold, has been constipated for a couple days and is cutting some new teeth. She spent a lot of the time crying in the morning. It was reminiscent of the newborn Little A. Except for the part where I skillfully met her needs, distracted her when possible, and held her calmly when there was nothing else to do. I have a year of round-the-clock experience, so--you know--I'm pretty good now.

By the end of the day she was having so much fun. It turns out she L-O-V-E loves cake. She absolutely destroyed her piece and experienced her first sugar high, which--I'll be honest--is not that different than her normal everyday behavior. She kept crawling up and down the stairs and then returning to the living room to open each of her gifts, walking like Frankenstein across the floor from the stairs (it's hilarious). She was totally into the decorations and balloons (new word alert: balloon = boo) and she got very excited about one of her toys:



In case you missed it, she really really really likes dogs. Good pick, person that is not me. Man she is so cute. I love her so much. In case you care I am planning to post some pics and videos later after I get them all uploaded and such.

Yes, we had an anniversary

Since I already posted the mushy stuff and wrote a 4 page letter re: the details of how we met for LCD (since his memory of such things is for crap), I think I can keep it simple and say that I feel ridiculously lucky that I am in one of those marriages that actually got even better after the baby was born. I foresee year four continuing the trend of getting better all the time*.

I am thrilled that I get to keep him forever.


* It occurs to me that year two of dating was sort of excruciating at times (when it felt like all our foibles were under a microscope) and that may be why marriage has been so awesome.

Babies are funny

Yesterday, Little A pointed at my cell phone and said "baby" (her newest word, I think). At first I started to say, "Actually sweetie that's a phone," but then I looked at my phone and noticed there was a picture of her as my wallpaper. Har har. She is a baby after all.

Let it be known that babies generally know what they are talking about. So, instead I said "that is a baby. I know her. Do you know her? Is that Little A?" No response.

So Little A knows that she is a baby. But, does she know that she is her? Hmmmmmmm . . .

On another note, one year ago today was my official resignation from my job. I can't believe it's been a whole year. No wonder the money is running out (hahahaha . . . le sigh).

Thanksgiving Post

I feel like I owe the universe a Thanksgiving blog this year. Though one of the harder years to date, this year has been so jam-packed full of blessings it's not really even fair. I'm sort of overwhelmed with it all, actually, and I've got to get back to that turkey, so I'll just pick a few:

My husband: He is my true love. He is a better daddy than I had ever imagined my children would have. He is my best friend. He is the one that made that last post possible as he was with me every step. When I felt depressed and helpless after I had our sweet babe, he was the only person I could talk to without feeling like I had cotton balls in my mouth. I could say every word and I knew he heard it. I have thought often about how challenging the newborn time was but that I would rather have ten colicky babies than have to trade for a less supportive husband. (UNIVERSE that is NOT a challenge--totally cool with #2 being an angel baby.) Never did I expect I would be so blessed in the man department. He should probably get another dedicated post next week when we turn three, but I will try not to gross my 3-4 readers out too much.

My ANGEL baby: Okay so she may not fit the common description of angel baby = EASY and content, but she is absolute fun and sweetness and delight. She shows me every day how fantastic it is to experience everything around us. One of her most frequent words recently is "wow." She has so much love in her. She smiles at almost every person she sees. Everyone is her friend. It's contagious too: I find myself smiling at strangers. I wish it could stay that way. She is JOYFUL. She also teaches me how to be a mom. I wasn't sure I was ready when she came (though I was very excited), but she has made me ready. She is an incredible gift.

--BREAK for FEASTING ---------------

The feast was wonderful. Everything went well. The turkey was flavorful. The twenty bazillion hour gravy was very tasty but salty. The sidedishes everyone brought were superb. And the cranberries were maybe the best part. (Side note: I made cranberry cream pie and had a bit of a fit the night before during the crust rolling which I hate and am terrible at. My husband promised we could buy a crust next time. Of course then we ate the pie and homemade crust is so delicious. Maybe next time LCD can try rolling the crust?)

-----------------------------------

More thankfulness:

Insight: Not mine, usually, but the insight of others has made my life so much better this year. For example, my sister-in-law that I very rarely talk to, packed up and sent her electric breastpump (don't worry, it was the Ameda, which is the only one that is really considered okay to use and pass on) with my Mom when she came out last December. Boy, did I need that thing. And how about my younger brother that just rocks at keeping things in perspective and sharing little bits of wisdom almost every time I talk to him? Or whoever it was that mentioned what kind of sippy cups worked really well for their kid? Once my daughter learned to drink out of one there was finally hope for her not being constipated all the time, poor babe. These are just a few random examples. I feel like I have lived by the insight of others this year.

Is there more?

The year in milk production

In a couple weeks I earn my golden ta-tas for one year of service. I'm sure plenty of people will think this comparison is ridiculous but I feel almost like a deployed soldier. Motherhood itself is very much an "in the trenches" activity--or it can be. How a mommy feeds her baby, specifically, seems to be such a personal thing and a journey of self-discovery for so many of us mommies. I would never judge any mom that ended up making different choices than I did re: what to feed her babies (assuming it's relatively healthy of course), but for me I feel like I've really earned the right to say "I can do hard things."

For some moms, maybe breastfeeding was the easy part. For others maybe it wasn't the thing for them or they weren't able to do it--I guarantee to you that I would not have managed it if I had gone back to work full-time as I am not a good pumper. I know for some, their journey of self-discovery includes them having to make the gut-wrenching decision to stop trying to swim upstream, that it is best for their baby and family to formula-feed. But, this is my blog, and for me breastfeeding was both very difficult AND the right thing to do.

At the hospital the nurses said, "You're doing everything you're supposed to. I don't know why it's not working. Just keep trying, I guess?"

Then the one lactation consultant said, "You may just not be able to breastfeed."

But the other one said, "You've definitely got something (colostrum) in there. Don't give up. Try this," and then she would forcibly shove my newborn's face against me and MAKE IT WORK. She was kind of nuts, but she was also the one that gave me hope. I needed that hope when I was waiting 7 or 8 days for my milk to come in (for the uninitiated, that's late).

Next came the endless (baby) crying and the doctor saying she had lost more than 10% of her birth weight and we would have to supplement after feeding. Oh noes. The books I read said supplementing was the beginning of the end for breastfeeding. I was, of course, distraught. It's very easy to become distraught when you are a new mom.

Well, not so, says the lady two weeks shy of the one year mark for breastfeeding (ahem: me). Sometimes your baby just needs a little extra help to live. And sleep. And grow. You might still be able to feed them 80-90% of what they need (or maybe not, but you gotta do what you gotta do).

So marathon feedings, and colicky baby, and acid reflux, and supplements (first after every feeding day and night and eventually consolidated), and mastitis x 2, and mommy's depression, and squirming, wriggling, distracted, and how-could-I-forget biting baby, and how can it be worth it? How can still waking up at 5 am every morning for the early morning feed be worth it at this point? I'll be honest: possibly the biggest motivator this whole time has been the fact that I am cheap. We only ever had to buy two things of formula (hooray for free samples), so score one for the cheap lady. And yes there is that magical moment at 5 am, or 2:30 am if that's when she's feeling it, when the baby smiles at only her mommy while the world sleeps, and that is pretty neat too. Okay it's really neat.

I recently read an article about how breastfeeding moms need more support to be successful. There's no doubt it would be a lot easier for would-be-breast feeders if pumping at work was encouraged rather than simply allowed (and then only if you can make it fit into your meeting schedules, etc., and oh yeah possibly in the bathroom stall). And if lactation consultants were covered by insurance and easy to find (maybe at the pediatrician's office!).

But the bizarre thing to me about the article were the angry comments from one mom to another. This first year of new baby is hard enough without the judging, or the even more prevalent judging the judgers (huh?). I try to just ignore this oddly vindictive/defensive back-and-forth and focus on the fact that I did what I thought I could not and I am a stronger person and mom for it.

I think just about every mom can say that about something. I am sure that my own mom can. She can also say that she stood by me as I became a mom for the first time, during the fumbling, no-sleeping, clueless, helpless, energy-sapping, scary time post-hospital and pre-sanity return. I wonder if that was a "hard thing" for her. Maybe after raising four kids nothing is hard anymore. In any case, moms are awesome.

I sure hope I can be an awesome mom. Maybe little A will tell me so in about 31 years.

Mind: blown

I just found out someone I know now also knows a lot of the same people I knew twenty years ago! For the last nineteen years I have been wondering how my first fake boyfriend has been doing since he moved away when I was thirteen (he happened to have a disease that can drastically shorten your lifespan). It turns out he is doing fine. It might be weird that I care so much but I am actually thrilled to hear this.

One of his sisters was actually the first person I knew of that had the name of my now-daughter. Yup, the seed was planted a long time ago. I feel like everything has come full circle and am waiting for the final cosmic whatsit to hit the fan.

The Cap'n

To remember: My little babe called every animal at the farm/park we went to a "dog." She also gets so excited every time she sees actual dogs when we are out and about. She will continue to point to the spot we last saw a dog and say "dog" long after it has moved on. For some time she has been calling all round objects balls. At Halloween every time we saw a pumpkin she would point like a wild woman and say "ball! ball!" She is so excited about life. Oh, "ball" is also usually the first thing we hear her say when she wakes up in the morning. So maybe she dreams of them? Let's see: loves dogs, dreams of balls. Pants when excited. Maybe I gave birth to a puppy instead of a baby.

I love her.

I love November

I was expecting to hate this month. I get really anxious about the darker days and being stuck inside, especially considering how depressed I was last winter ( = clinically so). But it has been lovely so far: sunny and not too cold and just beautiful and crisp with autumn all around us. I have played outside with my baby the last three days in a row and plan to keep it up. Also... baby swimming lessons started! And we are hosting Thanksgiving and I'm excited to get my hands on a turkey. I feel like we've just mooched for the past many years and I spend most of Thanksgiving standing around like a doofus. Not this year. Oh yeah, and who could forget HP7? Finally, I am thinking about little A's first birthday. We're not really doing a party but it just feels like such an accomplishment to have survived the year and have a happy baby to show for it. She's so happy lately!

Here's hoping December, January, and (ugh) February can keep being awesome.

Ker-splat

She's learning how to walk. What a battle it is. She's got chin scrapes, bumps on her forehead, random red spot under her eye. Poor baby. But she battles on, with that enormous head of hers. Okay it's not that enormous--it's just above average. However, her body is now like 10th percentile or so. Basically, she's got a 12 monther's head on a 6 monther's body. So . . . bonk. Bam. Ker-splat.

Here's another picture just for fun:


I'm sneaking in this last one several days later because I don't think we've showed off her teeth yet. Ta daa:

My brother is awesome

Sometimes it has to be said. He is currently sharing his 2007 spoken word/musical Christmas album online at his blog real love. real muscles. Since none of them are traditional Christmas songs or stories you can listen to them now without being sickened. I recommend "The Time I Fell Into the Toilet on Christmas Eve." He is "in the studio" working on a 2010 Christmas album; I'm sure it will be a fantastic soundtrack for this year.

Oh beware that the song "Its Christmas" can remain stuck in your head for months. You may want to wait on that one.

It's just the way I -role

That may be the dumbest pun ever.

I have recently volunteered to be in charge of organizing a bunch of women (now that I think about it I'm not sure why we can't invite men too--I'll get on that) to prepare hot meals for a homeless/unemployed/what-have-you services center once a month. It's really not a big deal and I really dig being at least somewhat involved in the community. I was much better at it when I was single and childless. Especially when I was underemployed and pennies away from becoming homeless myself. So I'm trying to get back to that part of myself. Meanwhile, I am learning a whole new genre of cooking known as the casserole.

People cringe at the word and I'm pretty sure it's considered all kinds of lame and 1950's housewife, but there is a time and a place for everything. And lest ye be confused I am at best an "adequate" housewife, so I don't think LCD is going to stop cooking West African, Indian, Thai, etc. anytime soon. I had made maybe two casseroles in my life before this new development, though I'm headed for number four in about a week. The thing is it's actually kind of awesome how stinkin' easy these things are. Gourmet they are not (generally). Nor are they interesting and ethnic. But I find myself actually getting excited to try a good macaroni and cheese recipe. Yes, this is what I am becoming. Pretty cool, huh?

This month we are making one of the longest-lived American casserole recipes in existence: The Tuna Noodle Casserole. My friends, we are talking about pasta, canned tuna, and peas as the main ingredients. You better believe I am making one for the homeless people and one for us. Peas are by far my baby's favorite vegetable and here is a chance to really make them sing.

A year from now I may or may not be the Casserole Queen. I'm leaning towards "may not" buy I'm leaving "may" out there as a possibility. These days anything is possible.

into the spirit

Kinda spooky, eh?

Here it is on the porch.
This is what we do while the child sleeps. I also cut myself with gigantic knives, that's how good I am (don't worry--not serious).

communication

I know this is mostly a mom-blog now, but I don't really care. Babies are far more fascinating than most jobs, politics, tv shows, craft projects (ha ha--like I do craft projects), etc. forever. We did make the most delicious butternut squash soup last night, though, so we are appropriately fall festive in case you were wondering. Oh man, it was good. Stole the recipe from this woman at church.

But the topic for today is communicating with babies. Ignorant me, I thought I would definitely know when little a said her first word. Did you see the episode of Modern Family where Lily keeps saying "mama" and her gay dads have a meltdown and then it turns out she is just repeating what a doll says? Yeah, and she just crawls around silent the rest of the time saying nothing.

That is not what happens.

Little a talks constantly, so it's hard to know when she is really saying a word. If she says "babababa" all the time, then she picks up a ball and says "ba," did she just say ball? If she says "mamamamamama" all the time and when I say "Do you want to come with mama?" she repeats "mama," did she really just say mama to mean me? And if she says it when she's tired and cranky but she doesn't actually look at me, does it mean she wants me or does it just mean "Hi, I am tired and cranky?" It's all about the context clues, I guess. She definitely says something close to "bye bye" (though really it's somewhere midway between "ba ba" and "bye bye") and she often waves her hand when she says it, but does she really get that she is saying "goodbye" or "I'll see you later?" I guess if I have to pick her first word it probably is "bye bye" and if I have to make the call I do think she really is saying "ball," but the jury is still out on both "mama" and "dada," both of which she says often enough and sometimes at appropriate moments, but it is unclear whether it is on purpose.

The cool thing, though, is no matter what she actually says I am getting better and better and telling what she means. Often she'll point or just look longingly at something and when I get it for her she gets a big grin on her face. Success! We have basic cave man communication. It's different than just reading her signs. It feels much closer to talking. Sometimes I can even get HER to do stuff, which is the truly amazing part. I can say "give that to mommy" the oft-loved "no, don't touch" or "get the bear" (pointing) and it actually happens. I think she is happier because of all this, because we sometimes get each other.

Feel free to share anything on babies and communication, if you want.

all of THE sudden

Almost five years into our relationship and I still get made fun of by LCD for saying it "all of the sudden" instead of "all of a sudden." I will never change and I am not sure whether the giggles and/or ridicule will ever stop. Note to LCD: If you think you're ever going to shame me just because I say a phrase the way I learned it at age 4, you can kiss my butt. I will also continue to say kiss my butt.

This is the stuff awesome marriages are made of.

Please vote in the songwriting challenge

But not for me. Unless you really think my song is THAT awesome. See, I'm a little worried that there may have been a biased vote or two in the current songwriting challenge and I want to be sure that the winner (maybe me) actually deserves it. So we need more voters that are not going to just go straight for the pity/friend vote. You guys won't coddle me, right? Yes, I'm talking to the three of you.

Anyway, check out the music over at songwriting challenge

And I'll be honest: the entries are not really as good as usual. But they're not too bad either. And there are only five of them!

Thanks, kiddos.

Life with 10 month-old...

rocks. Seriously, all the newborn colicky crap was worth this time hangin' with my sweet, fun, social butterfly. Last night we went to this delicious Afghan restaurant down the street and she made friends with absolutely everyone there. She even got one of the waitresses she had been eyeing to come pick her up by holding her arms out toward her. She freakin' loves almost everyone. (If she does not love you, I'm sorry. Either you are evil or the whole thing is completely random.)

She has all kinds of fun new tricks to entertain: clapping, hugs, waving bye-bye, (sometimes even at the right time and ba ba is morphing into an understandable "bye-bye"), high-fives (okay, a little coaching needed), and she laughs all the time. I haven't hung out with babies a whole lot in my lifetime, but she is definitely the most energetic and social one I have seen in a while or maybe ever. And yes this means a LOT of chasing her around. A LOT. Seriously, she almost never stops and plays in one place. But I will take the chasing, gladly, over the hours of crying from yestermonth. If only I could permanently fix her pain-in-the-butt (literally) digestive system, it would be pretty much constant joy. Oh well, opposition is necessary in life. Oh, and I think we might just have our drummer. She loves hitting things with other things, especially with sticks and stick-shaped objects. When we head to the basement she always wanders over to our drum set and starts banging on the bass drum.

Columbus Day photos...

We went to Homestead Farm


to go apple picking


and find the perfect pumpkin.


The baby hung out in the pumpkins for a while, examining the choices, playing with ladybugs

and watching daddy take pictures.


When we got home we decided to enjoy the fruits of our labor. We also made a pie that was pretty tasty.

And if those pictures weren't cute enough for you. Look at my sweet laughing baby:

Can you see her two tiny teeth? They aren't quite all the way up yet but they are enough to sort-of kind-of bite into an apple.

Yes, I was going to stop blogging, but it is too good a way to chronicle things. Instead, as a start, I am disallowing myself from reading blogs of people I have never met.

I think I hate Glee now

It was funny and cute at first and Jane Lynch was great. But, each time I drag myself back to Hulu to see how the show is going, it seems worse. The most recent Brittany Spears-a-thon was maybe the most ludicrous plotline I've ever seen on a single episode of a television show. The vast majority of the musical numbers were supposed to be Brittany Spears fantasies on nitrous oxide? Actually that makes it sound a lot better than it was; that could have been clever. But it wasn't. Just a bunch of rehashed music videos. Gag. Intersperse a few teenagers/adults acting weird and pathetic and controlling (and not in sympathetic ways) and you have a serious waste of my time. Maybe I need to ditch TV again completely. Except Community. And maybe 30 Rock.

That baby on the plane?

The one who fussed or cried most of the flight with that pathetic/dramatic oh-the-world-is-ending-whimper whimper? That was our baby. She was so so tired but just could not find the right position to sleep in. Believe you me she tried everything: on mommy, on daddy, on both, scrunched up, stretched out, on her tummy, on her back, on her side, legs hanging off the seat, head hanging off the seat, and every variation in between. Also there was that low fever she had, controlled somewhat by the Mexican Tylenol. She had two new little teeth to show for it. Aren't you proud, random stranger?

And anyway, isn't she cute?





See, that makes it all okay.

Everything is Sentimental

Seriously. I mailed off my quarterly estimated taxes today and it was like "Wow. I am Self Employed. How did I get here?" [insert ruminations and ponderings]

Yesterday, Little A and I went on a walk in the early evening. It was the most perfect day ever: one part early fall crispness, one part late summer eve warmth, blue sky with feathery clouds breaking across it, zero humidity, much ahhhhhhh. It was a long walk.

As we walked I started to think about her as a teenager. Then I thought about myself as a teenager and how I wasn't very good at it. I spent most of my time waiting for it to be over. To my credit I did stop this habit once I got to college. College I loved and embraced as the first thing that had felt real in a long time.

But, this is not what I want for Little A. True, there was some benefit to me being more or less the impartial observer through my teenagedom. I learned a lot; I wrote it down, my life "wrapped up in books." But then again, when I actually HAD to do something instead of just watch and wait, I behaved quite stupidly. Behaving stupidly is definitely a rite of passage and Little A is welcome to it, but . . .

Mostly I just want her to live her life. I want her to be okay with who she is always.

I JUST WANT HER TO FEEL OKAY.

I was pushing her in her stroller and remembering this one thing I did as a adolescent that I am ashamed of to this day. I didn't have any trouble avoiding the obvious pitfalls: drugs and sex and what-have-you. But I managed to be insensitive, crass, and disrespectful to a peer in a damaging way that may have affected him for the rest of his life. It also may not have--I just don't know. What I do know is that when I was thirteen a girl in the lunch line told me I was "so not pretty" and I never forgot it. Not that I have a complex about it, but it's there. So something I did when I was thirteen could have had the same result. I wrote a hurtful letter one time, partially because I had been hurt and partially to look funny and cool to others, but I took it too far. This was almost twenty years ago.

I should have been better than I was then. I really should have known. I had been smart enough to know how to hurt people and how to be hurt.

So as I pushed Little A yesterday I hoped that she could be better, stronger, more confident in herself so that she never felt the need to put anyone down. To disrespect them.

But when I thought about it some more, I realized that maybe shame is a gift. Perhaps if we can feel shame it means we can feel love. As long as we know what to do with that shame it could be a good thing. As long as we can make something better with it. I mean there has to be a reason I have been remembering this one moment in my life so much at the same time that my capacity to love has been increasing.

When I look at my daughter and see the road of her life spread out before us I know I want to be there with her through all of it (okay, meaning the childhood part). I want to hold her when she feels the sting of rejection. I want to show her what we can become from what we are. Even if what we are isn't so awesome all the time. Mostly I want her to live courageously.

Yes it's very sentimental, but such is life.

SICK

Everyone in my family (yes I'm talking about three people) has been getting sick lately. Today it's both me and the bebe. So, naps for everybody! Just hopin' we're all cured for the upcoming trip.

getting it right

I finally participated in one of those political polls/surveys over the phone tonight while getting dinner ready and frankly it was fascinating. I had kind of a hard time with it because I'm a moderate mostly and all the questions were either/or. I found myself saying things like "well, it's not the simple." Or "both of these answers are wrong." I would even start to explain myself and then realize the person I'm talking to is more or less a specialized telemarketer. They're just reading the questions on the screen in front of them. "Can I do a write-in answer?" I asked once. Most of the time the woman would just repeat the question when I said anything other than a one-word answer and I'd either say "fine, I'll just go with X" or -- a couple times -- "I guess I just can't answer this question." I know it's just a poll, and of course they have to keep it simple to make any kind of statistical sense, but I could not help feeling just a little . . . cheap. Is that weird? It's probably a personal problem.

After the straight political section they asked me a whole lot of questions about the role of religion in politics and I think I had an even harder time. One question was whether I think what makes a person religious is a) their faith and beliefs or b) how they live and what they do. I was floored that this was even a question. "Definitely both," I said. "In exactly equal proportions." She just sighed and repeated the question. "I'm sorry but that's the best I can do." If I wanted to get into it I could say that if you truly have faith you will live it, but this is a multiple choice test--no essay questions--and faith without works is dead.

So then after dinner my daughter and I went upstairs for bathtime and while I was filling the tub and looking away from her for a couple seconds she unrolled half a roll of toilet paper and was just so excited that I couldn't help but laugh. After the bath we hung out in the hallway and she stood and held onto the bars of the gate at the top of the stairs and shook it and looked at me, smiling. I started to laugh and she started to laugh and then we were both laughing harder and harder because it's contagious. And later we both sang in the car on the way home from a baby shower. Then last of all I carried her upstairs for bedtime and she clung to me with ferocious affection (she's starting to really *HUG* now) and I patted her back and leaned her head onto my shoulder and kissed her goodnight and laid her down and said I love you. Then I came into the office to write this, about how I love being a mom and how I'm really starting to get it right.

If she were an embryo, she'd be born by now . . . or something

So. This baby has now spent more time living in the world than living in my uterus.


And while she's got a lot more learning to do about living in the world -- the last week has been a non-stop festival of "No, don't eat the plant(s)" including our second call to poison control -- I can definitely say that she l-o-v-e loves this place. She is a born explorer.

You know that phase everyone always says "isn't it the best" about? The one where the baby can sit and play with toys but is not mobile yet? Yeah, that did not happen in our house. Before she was able to sit on her own so that I felt like I did not need to sit behind her or right next to her she was lunging, reaching, rolling across the room -- aka exploring! Within days of her having the back muscle strength to sit on her own she was also army crawling. So yeah, "what phase?"

Now she's everywhere you don't want her to be. But she is the most fun ever.

I have recently become pretty sure that little A's personality type is the "spirited" baby. People have written many books to teach you how to parent such kids, and I may make use of them sometime, but for now I think she is doing a pretty good job teaching me. She's quite awesome at it.

From the beginning she was a lot of work for us. Of course since she's the first I just thought, well I guess babies are hard work--even moreso than I thought. Then we started getting these comments all the time: "Wow, she is really active," or "She's really excited/fussy/interactive/loud right now, it must be nap time/feeding time, right?" or "Is she always like this?"(answer: only when she's awake). So, I realize now that not every baby is so everything all the time as her.

And, though I have spent some time being a wee bit jealous of people whose baby sleeps through the night at two months, rarely cries, does not get into everything constantly, or even waits to show interest in crawling, etc., I love her so much for who she is (which is not any of those things). She is so much fun and interactive and such a charmer and I feel like she already knows herself. It's so cool to just watch her sometimes. The very thing that is pretty challenging about having kids is also the most wonderful thing: you just can't know what you're going to get. This baby is who she is. My job is to respect that and channel her energy for good. I actually feel very lucky to have this job. It is fascinating, inspiring, faith-affirming, and endlessly rewarding.

Edited to add stats for archival purposes or whatever:

The little shrimp is 26.5" tall (20%) and 15 lbs 11 oz (10%). She wears mostly 6-9 month clothes now but most are pretty baggy on her. She checks out on most of the milestones (crawling, standing, cruising) but they asked me at the Dr. if she plays pat-a-cake, which unless she taught it to herself is pretty unlikely. Haven't really been working on the all-important pat-a-cake skills so I suppose I'll have to step it up. Or give up as a mom.

eShakti: ridicul-awesome or meh?

So I ordered a dress. And I like it okay. Yup, just okay. I had read a bazillion random blog-reviews of eShakti and most of them were just so so glowing that I got really excited. But still in the back of my mind was a bit of doubt as I had seen the pics people took of themselves in the clothes and on average they were kind of ... well ... lackluster. Not bad, but just okay. However, the gushing. Just so much gushing I figured the pictures lied and people were just bad photographers.

On the plus side, the dress fits and it is pretty unique. I had them add sleeves and everything, so it's potentially one-of-a-kind. Oh yeah, back up a bit. That's the whole thing with eShakti. You can have them custom make clothes to fit your measurements and you can even customize sleeves, length, and sometimes neck style. A lot of the patterns they use are really stylish too, including some Anthropologie knock-offs. Anyway, it's a very, very cool concept. $70 for a tailor-made dress that maybe no one else has ($60 for off-the-rack sizing 0-26). Oh, and that's just the retail price. They have sales and a $15 off coupon. Definitely worth the occasional splurge, no?

I think where things go a wee bit wrong is in the fabric quality. The one I got just doesn't quite lay right and it's coarser than I thought it would be. So, fine for a summer-sun-dress-chillin'-on-vacation sort of thing, but not for dress-up when you want to look really swell. By the way, it's possible I just chose the wrong item. Perhaps "day dress" really does mean "yeah, don't try wearing this anywhere fancy and definitely not for a night out." If so, it's my problem.

Anyway, I'll post the pictorial tour after I get LCD to take some photos. I am keeping the dress as it will be useful sometimes and I can't get all my money back since it was tailored.

beachin' babe

Yeah, it's a really stupid pun.

Anyway, we took a mini-vacation at the beginning of this week to the beach and had a great time. I was anxious, but it was definitely better than expected. The baby loved all the extra outdoors time and the extra attention from two parents. She did fine staying up past her bedtime for dinners out and she slept okay in the indispensible pac n play. I loved seeing her so happy all day long, and of course enjoying the beach myself and time with El Esposo (I think I'm changing his name back to LCD, by the way). Little A can be pretty fearless and loved the excitement of waves coming toward her and then jumping over them with daddy. In this case it was all fun and games until someone got a faceful of salt water.

Unfortunately most of the excitement happened before I went to get my camera, but here are a few shots to show we were really there.


Playin' frisbee, greased-up hair due to sunscreen (Little A is so over wearing anything on her head)


Baby's first whac-a-mole, or in this case whac-a-shark


Pool time

I do not love coming back from vacation

Happy baby turns cranky, sore throat that was supposed to just be a reaction to the sea air starts turning into an actual cold, pile of work that was so nicely "saved up" threatens to eat me, and solo caregiver switch turned back on. Harrumph.

I love vacation

A happy baby, a wonderful partner to help me with the happy baby 24/7, the beach, time to spare, and no work coming in (despite the free wi-fi). Oh yeah and episodes of our new obsession after the wee one is asleep. This is the life.

Style Obsessed

It's not really my norm, but now that I can finally wear all my old clothes (okay, except a couple that I chucked), and because I recently got some birthday money(!!!), I have been scouring the internet, SCOURING I tell you, for what clothes I should buy. I am especially obsessing over the cute dresses they have here, here, and here, and sometimes even here (NOT in my price range) and everywhere in-between. I am such a fashion victim (except that I can't pull the trigger). Still in nursing mode, I feel like I need a light at the end of the tunnel for when I can really wear dresses, you know, for more than a couple hours at a time. But, we don't have as much cash these days so I feel like I gotta pick ONE THING. Or two really cheap things. AND then I remember that I don't get opportunities to wear dresses that often anyway, so maybe I should be focusing my efforts on more casual attire. AND I can't afford to be too trendy, though I do want something a little bit special. AND it's gotta fit right or else this whole thing is pointless and I may as well keep shopping at Target clearance rack. AND, psst, even though I'm back to my old size I do have a cute *little gut* now, that shows when I wear tighter shirts, soooo yeah just a new wrinkle. What to do.

Seriously, I have filled up an online "shopping cart" like eight times recently and then chickened out. YIKES.

My child is officially a bully

At only eight months. She takes the other babies' toys. And she clawed one in the face today. It's odd, since both of us got picked on by bullies in childhood. Maybe it's karma. This is the part where we rule!

Mua ha ha.



But really, this could be a problem down the line. We'll have to wait and see.

Human Pandora Guessing Game

El Esposo and I invented this game. It's possible someone has played it before, but in our world, we invented it. Anyway, one person thinks of a band/musician and the other person tries to guess who it is. It's pretty much the most basic game format out there. Only there is a required format for guessing, wherein you ask "Are they more like X or Y?"

For example, say person A picked the band The Clash. And then person B asks "Are they more like Weezer or Kool and the Gang?" Person A would say Weezer. So person B now knows anything disco-y is out and they try and narrow down the brand of garage rock/punk by asking more "Are they more like X or Y" questions. I guess the object is to see how fast you can do it, but mostly it's just about the guessing and the judging where a band fits on the spectrum of music.

It's pretty fun and can be played anywhere at anytime. Even while a baby is screaming.

Oh the poetic symmetry

I'm sitting in my "office" checking some email while my daughter plays on the floor. (This only works for a few minutes, by the way, before she injures herself or gets upset at me.) I look over and find that she has happened upon my pile of labor books and is eating them. Yeah, that seems about right.

Mental Vertigo

My life is really good. It really is. I have been extremely lucky in love and I have a beautiful daughter, who sings along with me in the cutest way possible at eight months.

But I'm going to digress for a minute and say working with multiple personalities is a pain. And working with no version control irritates me more than almost anything. And right now I am the middle man between the technical expert and the management expert and no one can please two masters, so it stinks. Everyone is messing up the document and putting their 80 million cents in and sending it back to me every time supposedly better but looking like a mishmash of what-the-ever. Then I send back my pristine version after brokering with both and making executive decisions that I know will be overturned, playing the tortured writer, and it is a cycle of monstrosity. In the meantime, my poor baby has been constipated for two months and I'm worried she's going to develop a complex, both mental and physical, about it. Darn solid foods. Yes, internet, I said it.

Anyway--paycheck. And anyway--darling baby. My life is still very good.

p.s., ROAR

Oh yeah, happy eight months to the little monster:

indoors v. outdoors

Just uploaded some pics from my new camera phone which is supposed to have uniquely awesome high quality.

Here's indoors:
(Yes, she is already a musical genius)

And outdoors:
(We also hang her upside down and let her play with the hornet's nest in the front yard)

Indoors:
(Playing with diapers. Good one, eh? At least they're clean.)

Outdoors:
(Photogenic pair, no?)

Indoors, with some outdoor backlight:
(She likes it!)

Indoors with lots of outdoor light:
("Let...let me out" as sung by Billy Corgan OR "Won't you let me out of here?" as sung by Steven Malkmus as "Jenny")

So yeah. Not bad at all with natural light. Otherwise just looks like a regular camera phone. Anyway I am just happy to have a way to take pictures so I don't have to wait for El Esposo.

Reluctantly jumping on the bandwagon

My jerk/nice brother got me the first season of Lost for my birthday. It's sort of like when someone handed me a stack of Harry Potter books and said have at it. Except that I was unemployed and friendless in a new town when that happened, so I had nothing but time. Also I love Harry Potter (duh). Lost, on the other hand, makes me want to hurl. And then watch the next episode.

I'm already really perturbed by all the cliffhangers. It makes me angry the same way all the tear jerking scenes in the movie 2012 (a REAL winner) made me angry. Except with 2012 you really know what kind of movie you're going to get. Am I a reactionary? Yes. Am I going to put up with this crap? Yes I will be manipulated, but I am NOT GOING TO LIKE IT. There, maybe that will make JJ Abrams think twice the next time. I really don't know how all you people watched all those episodes new AND waited for the next season. Except back in 2004 my life was a lot more fly-by-the-seat-of-yer-pants than it is now and there was no time to obsess over such things. Anyway, cheers to you all for your determination.

And for the record, yes I like the show. Enough that I'm already mad that I know about one of the characters that is going to die.

Parenting like a middle child

This isn't really an epiphany. Just a thought I've had for the last five minutes and figured was interesting enough for a brief blog. I think birth order has equal parts LOTS and LITTLE to do with personality. At this moment I am thinking it does have some to do with how I parent a baby and I bet it will continue to influence how I parent a toddler, child, adolescent, etc.

As a middle child I don't believe that any one way is THE way. And I have no problem differentiating myself from my peers, well except when I get self conscious (wanting to be different but wanting approval--classic middle child). But in the end I figure I'll do whatever seems right based on little A's personality (and WHAT a personality it is). So on stuff like this:

Baby wearing v. sticking baby somewhere v. letting baby run wild
Cloth diapers v. disposable
On-demand feeding v. schedule
Early solids v. later solids
Jarred baby food v. make-your-own v. baby-led weaning (which means they feed themselves from the beginning, soft but not mushy stuff)
Cry-it-out v. No tears sleep solution
No TV v. festival of cartoons

(Yeah, I had no idea there were going to be so many decisions about what to do with a baby)

I am all over the map with a combination of absolutely everything. I'm sure more rigid parents would think I am inconsistent. The less rigid ones would say I am overanalyzing. My favorite ones would of course say as long as the child is healthy and happy, the rest is my business. I hope that is what I would say about anyone else.

Sometimes I think it's because I don't quite trust myself that I take a little from column A, B, and C, but then I always land somewhere and when I do it often feels oh so right. And so I give my baby a slice of peach to scarf down on her own while I am mixing the cereal I will feed her with a spoon (which she will grab approximately 18 zillion times during the feeding). Of course Little A has A LOT of input into this stuff as she is quite the willful little almost eight-month-old. In fact I think where I land is often where she wants me, the little devil, which makes sense as getting upstaged is also classic middle child.

Things that make you go hmmm....

Death By Consignment Shop

So maybe I'm a little obsessed. I love value and so I get stuff that seems to be a great value to, you know, save money. But am I really saving money? I mean, am I?

Still, isn't this one cool looking toy for a baby? And El Esposo is not too bad at cutting hair so there's a fair trade-off. And the baby has been getting angry at any toy that does not help her stand up lately. This one does (we tried it). I'm all about reducing her rage and diminishing her criminal impulses.

Becoming Mommy (part two: post partum)

I've decided not to get into this so much but I think I can now say that I had some post-partum depression when little A was born. In comparison to some, it was quite mild, but it was nonetheless awful for a little while.

Okay, cool, just had to get that off my chest. Probably more to come later. I am so grateful that period in my life is over (and in fact it did not last that long) though I feel so much more empathy for people with depression. Seriously, big sinkholes full of empathy. Big fat cenotes.

***************************************************************************

Here's the "more to come" and never mind I guess I am going to get into it. I figure maybe a summary would be educational. From the brief bit I've read about it there is quite a spectrum of post-partum depression and I was lucky enough to be on the short-lived end of things. The end where you think maybe it's just baby blues plus seasonal affected disorder plus I had a colicky newborn plus everyone else is a better mom than me. Except that last part is not true. I am at least average.

Anyway, I'm a little jealous that El Esposo felt such an immediate love and connection for our little sweetie pie from her first cry when she was only halfway out. Here I had felt the little monster dance and perform acrobatics and kick and head butt my bladder and I had read a bajillion books and researched the crap out of all the things we needed to be prepared for her and scoured craigslist and felt that I loved her so much already but at that moment I just felt TIRED. And after that I felt pleased by her adorableness and watching her with "daddy" but also just HEAVY with the responsibility of eighteen years plus forever. Now that I step back, I do think a lot of the bits of happiness I did feel came more from El Esposo at the beginning. I never felt completely removed from him. He was kind of my way of accessing the world I think. Anyway, it probably did not help that I was in a lot of physical pain for the first two months of her life due to major tearing.

The main thing was the first three weeks when I felt something I had never felt before, and that something was NOTHING. No appetite or ability to taste anything, no excitement, definitely none of this "euphoria" which I seem to read about everywhere. Most of the time no sadness either. Just a lack, an emptiness where feeling is supposed to go. And it weighed on me. I felt almost constantly aware of not caring about anything. I knew it was the hormones, though, because it came in these waves that I could feel physically. One minute, I felt like I could at least have a normal conversation. I could at least smile, or even fake it. Then, suddenly, it felt like all the window shades in our house being shut simultaneously and I had just enough time to think, "Oh no!" before it started. I have never before or since felt the physical impossibility of a smile like I did during those, I guess "episodes."

I remember playing a game with my parents (they visited during the first two weeks) and having no desire to win or use any kind of strategy or be annoyed by anything anyone else did, which is the opposite of my normal experience (I was brought up in a hyper-competitive board game-loving family). I had a hard time with breastfeeding and I felt sort of numb and also sort of useless as a human. The poor baby was starving because I wasn't producing enough so she cried and cried and cried and would not sleep. Finally we started supplementing but at first she wouldn't take the bottle from me and so she would go back to crying constantly and not sleeping if no one else was around, and me feeling useless some more. Once we were past that hurdle, she got colicky and we found out she had acid reflux. And this was the pattern, or so it kept seeming, that new challenges kept popping up and I felt in a constant state of oh-crap-did-I-make-a-mistake-with-this-precious-life-what-is-wrong-with-me. I knew absolutely that these challenges were seeming worse than they were (they were quite normal, though certainly not ideal) because I was depressed.

There was no doubt in my mind I was depressed, I just didn't know what to call it: Baby Blues? PPD? SAD (thanks winter for snowing more than any other year)? Another time I remember going out to dinner with my parents and El Esposo and the sleeping baby and ordering something I barely ate any of and participating in the conversation like an outsider, almost like I was watching a movie and occasionally commenting on the action on screen. Since I didn't feel like eating or talking, I found that after I drank three straight glasses of water I started to feel better, as in slightly closer to normal. So the most basic necessity of life became even more a necessity to me. When I felt the wave coming I would grab a glass of water and hope for the best.

About three weeks in I talked to El Esposo about it and said I thought maybe I was starting to get better as the breaks in the clouds I felt were seeming longer. He asked me what I wanted to do if I did not get better soon. DRUGS, I said. I had no qualms. There was no doubt in my mind that I could not properly care for a baby by myself feeling like I did. I was helped immensely by El Esposo at this time. It was perfect that he was able to take a full five weeks off at work. If he hadn't been able to, I have no idea how little A and I would have survived. To say I love that man is a gross understatement.

But here's the lucky thing: I started to feel better. Not a lot better, but enough, and for the most part a little more myself each day. Even as the baby's fussiness was actually getting worse, my ability to cope with it got better. Sure, sometimes I cried right along with her, but it felt normal. I could step back from myself and see that I just felt tired, not sapped of feeling. So I never got the drugs. But, I guarantee you that I would have. That is not a darkness I want to weather any longer than absolutely necessary. I know it can go on for a couple of years for some women and I am so sorry for them and I honestly hope the zoloft is doing its job. Because if it is not getting any better, take the zoloft, honey. Or exercise, or get a babysitter, whatever you need.

Anyway, at some point during all that mess I started to feel like a mom. I could look at my baby and just smile and smile. The way you are supposed to. The way it seemed like all the other new moms around me were from day one. It was maybe two months or three, though to be honest a little bit of it did linger, possibly to six months--it's hard to know. Actually, at first I was really annoyed with the other moms for being so happy and content. I know I only saw the surface and they probably had a hard time with some things too, but even so I do realize now that my experience really was a little different than most and there's no need to be annoyed with the others as I do not wish them to have my experience. I probably was in that unlucky 10%, or maybe the unreported other, which I am sure there is a lot of, that experience post-partum depression symptoms. I guess the only way to really know for sure is see if I feel different next time.

So there you have it. It could have been much worse, and what do I know maybe it is even more common than I am aware and it's going to be like that next time too. At least I'll know what to expect and know that one day soon I am going to be completely in love with the little munchkin. Also my daughter is awesome and has the most darling giggle which is my very favorite sound.

photo shoot #one thousandy three

Right after this she demanded I put her on the floor so she could eat some paper. (Note to self: no, the office is still not babyproofed.)

challenge #6

is up at the songwriting challenge blog.

Birthday = Awesome

It's really true. Though I admit my standards have lowered a bit (e.g., getting to go on a babyless date? coolest thing ever). Saturday we went "hiking" with some friends. The quotes are because we managed -- what -- half a mile? Anyway it was great fun to spend time outside in the sweltering heat with people we like and cute babies like this one:
Pictured with "Auntie E" (not actual Aunt)

And this one:
(Yeah not the best picture of the baby) Showing us that what you do when babies are around is stare at them. This one is pretty much a toddler now.

A direct result of that last picture after seeing how blah I looked was a haircut and a resolution to have better posture, which happened the next day.

Anyway, we hiked and picnicked and then we were all beyond beat since the job of just standing outside takes a lot these days (because it's hot). So the next awesome part of my birthday weekend was
FAMILY NAPTIME!
Later that evening we got to hang out with some other friends and another cute little girl since cute little girls are plentiful around these parts.

Then it was Sunday and El Esposo/Daddy took the baby to scope out the nursery that she will be attending in eleven short months while I slept through one class (ahhhh) and then actually listened to the whole other class. Later that day I made El Esposo give me a haircut.
I think he is getting quite good and I am getting quite good at egging him on. "Shorter! Shorter!" Although, I conveniently forgot how annoying it is when you have short hair that some days it just looks terrible and some days great. And, it often looks like a completely different haircut from the other side, thanks to my fantastic cowlicks:

So, today, when you put both sides together it's just kind of "huh?"

Oh well, it keeps a little bit of the unknown in my life so I won't feel tempted to start a torrid affair (how? when?). Also El Esposo being awesome helps with that.

Anyway, finally Monday, my actual birthday, I got nice phone calls, opened a couple gifts and best of all went on a real date. Nana and Papa came over to babysit, which was sort of like this:
Except the picture is a month old and the baby is now a crawling menace. But the point is we went to dinner at a great Afghan place in the neighborhood followed by seeing the movie everyone's talking about. It was pretty superb and worth the little miss waking up an hour and a half earlier than normal the next day (aka today).

The baby's source name

Today I introduced the baby to the source of her middle name.



Actually while this song was playing she just looked like she was about to sneeze the whole time. Pretty sure she really dug "In the Backseat" though; she tried to eat the CD player (yes I said CD player) as it was playing. I'm not sure why I waited so long. I mean I used the Thriller album (usually "Human Nature") to put her to sleep all the time for her first few months of life. I guess seven months is like a coming-of-age. And I recently heard an Arcade Fire interview. Anyway, yes we're cheesy. But we liked the name, so back off. And okay, yeah, she (the name source) is awesome. Does Erin read this blog? Remember when we first saw them in Ithaca at Cornell? I think it actually did change my life.

Also, I really don't know why the YouTube above is frozen into some evil deathmask of her face.

Who wants to babysit November 19th?

Yeah, we interrupt mommy-overload to bring you this completely awesome Harry Potter trailer. Maybe I'm a nerd but there are plenty of us on this planet. I can not wait to see the scene where Ron finally gets over himself and is the hero for one shining moment. I love a good underdog.

Becoming Mommy [Part One]

***This is going to be long, so I decided to serve it up in chunks***

So it's probably no secret around this blog and elsewhere that I've been a little preoccupied by the topic of babies and motherhood for quite a while. I don't seem to be able to write much fiction or music, other than the songwriting challenge, and I have not had a lot of energy for the time and marketing it would take to get and do the type of freelance writing I would prefer. Thankfully it just took a few phone calls to get me some steady income for a while in an area I have a lot of experience but not a lot of love (government agency technical writing). I am very lucky for that. I took my first extended absence from the baby (extended = four hours) recently to go to a work meeting, you know the sort of thing "working moms" do from the time their babies are three months old (I both envy them and am sad for them--there's really no perfect answer). Anyway, I think I just need to get some ideas out that have been churning through my mind for the last seven months and maybe, just maybe, I will feel lighter having dumped that burden. That and better able to do other things and have other conversations.

You see, there's a good reason I'm preoccupied. This is not just some new accessory I'm sporting. Or a puppy. It's not a new job. It's not even a new marriage. Don't get me wrong, I think a marriage relationship is the most important one you can enter into with another person. That's why it can be such a hard decision to make. And it's why all the heartbreak that comes beforehand is worth it. But most of the challenges of my marriage I could have predicted since I had, you know, met my husband (and known him for four and a half years). A baby is completely new and unknown. For all the build up to it: the registries, the baby shower, prepping the nursery, counting the weeks and identifying which fruit the baby now resembles, dreaming what it will be like, fearing labor and delivery and planning your "method" for getting through it, saving money and preparing to reschedule your life. It's like all of that was just noise. Sure it's kind of necessary and certainly helps you prepare as much as it is possible. But all of that noise turns to silence with the first cries that a tiny newborn makes. This being comes into your life and everything about her is so completely her and you have to get to know her ASAP from zero. Oh, and she depends on you for everything ever. I know this is a Captain Obvious kind of remark but it can't be ignored: EVERYTHING CHANGES.

Of course I can only speak for myself. And I can only talk about a healthy pregnancy resulting in a healthy baby. I'm sure there are plenty of women who could tell me "You have no idea." And they would be right. In fact, if I have learned anything through pregnancy and mothering a newborn, it is that YOU CAN NEVER TELL what it's like to be in someone else's shoes and to have to make the decisions they have to make. Decisions like whether to have a medicated or non-medicated birth, whether to breastfeed or bottlefeed (although I still think you should give breastfeeding a good TRY), whether to use disposable or cloth diapers, seem much less important to me now, so I'm sure I can make no pronouncement on other experiences and struggles I have never had like babies with serious birth defects or miscarriages. I can offer ONE THING that I have learned that might apply to every mom and would-be mom and that is:

Becoming a mother is a big deal and you just HAVE to have patience: patience with the circumstance you are in and definitely patience with yourself and how bad you may be at some things. We are being made into Mothers. It is no small task. Every hard thing that happens and that we make it through makes us more the kind of Mom we need to be for those sweet and needy little monsters, now or in the future.

That's what I think anyway. Maybe this is another Captain Obvious remark, but I'm new at this. I'm sure I will continue to learn more and have more challenging experiences and will look back on this moment and say, "If you only knew," but I THINK the main sentiment will still be true.

So far, this has been my experience:

I fell in love with this baby.


Who is now this baby:


Before I know it she will be a little girl. But here's the truth: I did not fall in love with her immediately (at least as completely) as El Esposo did. Possibly because of how that fateful night went down almost completely oppositely from how we had planned.
{EDIT: I CHANGED MY MIND ABOUT POSTING THE LABOR STORY. I REMEMBER NOT WANTING TO READ ANYONE ELSE'S STORY WHEN I WAS PREGNANT AND IT WAS PROBABLY FOR THE BEST SO I'M KEEPING IT TO MYSELF. IT IS SUFFICIENT TO SAY I LEARNED IT'S JUST GOING TO GO HOW IT'S GOING TO GO AND THERE'S NOT A LOT YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT, BUT OF COURSE IT IS WORTH IT.}

To be continued...