I spent most of my pregnancy preparing (as type A's like myself are wont to do). It is safe to say that I consider myself a preparer (a real word? who knows, but I like it), and if I know something is coming up, I like to get ready. So, if I were going to launch a rocket, I would take some classes, buy some books, talk to some experts and consider myself ready to launch that rocket.
This is exactly what I did when I was waiting for the boy. I bought books (lots of books, of which few turned out to be useful), I took the hospital classes, I talked to some of my friends who seemed to have this down. I thought I ws prepared, and honestly since you see lots of realtively incapable people who have children, you think to yourself "How hard can this be?".
Hard. Really, really hard.
Let's say you've studied up, you feel prepared for this little rocket. You've sepnt time reading up on the mechanics, you've picked out the paint schemes, and choosing a name for your little bundle of propulsive joy. You feel like a champ as you walk into NASA.
But then, you find yourself in the control room and you realize that nobody could have prepared you for the vast instrument panel, beeping and flashing in a ridiculously foreign language. Anything it says could signal impending doom or ridiculous happiness. You don't speak rocket, and it is T minus 10 to launch.
That is the moment when they let you out of the hospital.
And yes, you don't speak baby, because all the prep you have done so far has cruelly left out the phonetics of baby.
Now that I have this to look back on, and now that I have a few friends on their way into this adventure, I would like to say something: Be kind. Be kind to yourself. You are entering the steepest learning curve you will ever experience. And by curve, I mean more like a roller coaster of extrememly high highs and low lows. You may very well complicate this for yourself (as I did) by wasting time saying things like "WHY don't I get this? I read the schematic, I studied the plans for this roller coaster."
As soon as you stop paying attention to the track and look around, you will realize you are surrounded by the most beautiful view.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Well that's been a wild ride
It's been a year since the boy has been born. Phew. What a wild and crazy ride this has been!
People will say all kinds of crazy things to you at just about this time.... and I have to say that I've been biting my tongue just a little bit. I mean, I know all you bats mean well but seriously, let me tell you what I hear/want to say to you when:
'Didn't the time just FLY by?!'
What I want to say to you is "If what you mean by that is did I spend the last year in some combination of delirium, ecstasy, exhaustion, confusion, panic, stress, euphoria and many phases of the world 'whelmed', then yes." I honestly do not think it is fair to consider this whirlwind of a first year for anyone a form of time travel. Unless time travel is simultaneously excruciating and exhilarating; in which case I don't know if I am interested in time travel.
'Didn't you love every single minute?'
What I hear: because if you didn't you suck as a mommy.
What I want to say is: honestly, no. I did not enjoy every minute. I enjoyed many, many minutes but by no means did I enjoy all of them. I think this is true of life but certainly amplified in the first year of having a child (especially if, like me, it is the first one).For those of you with children you can surely relate to not loving: diaper blowouts, rashes, colic, fevers, sore nipples, sore anything for that matter, and as the King of Siam would say 'Etc, etc, etc.'.
'Can you even remember your life before this?'
Um, yep.
And if you can't then I feel a little sorry for you. Because, honestly, my life before my son was fantastic. It is more so with him but that does not diminish the fact that I have been living a very lucky and very interesting life for quite some time. Before him, I traveled, I studied, I lived, I loved and I remember every single bit of it. I think if I were to embrace the alternative it would make me less of a mother for him and most certainly less of a whole human being for myself.
People will say all kinds of crazy things to you at just about this time.... and I have to say that I've been biting my tongue just a little bit. I mean, I know all you bats mean well but seriously, let me tell you what I hear/want to say to you when:
'Didn't the time just FLY by?!'
What I want to say to you is "If what you mean by that is did I spend the last year in some combination of delirium, ecstasy, exhaustion, confusion, panic, stress, euphoria and many phases of the world 'whelmed', then yes." I honestly do not think it is fair to consider this whirlwind of a first year for anyone a form of time travel. Unless time travel is simultaneously excruciating and exhilarating; in which case I don't know if I am interested in time travel.
'Didn't you love every single minute?'
What I hear: because if you didn't you suck as a mommy.
What I want to say is: honestly, no. I did not enjoy every minute. I enjoyed many, many minutes but by no means did I enjoy all of them. I think this is true of life but certainly amplified in the first year of having a child (especially if, like me, it is the first one).For those of you with children you can surely relate to not loving: diaper blowouts, rashes, colic, fevers, sore nipples, sore anything for that matter, and as the King of Siam would say 'Etc, etc, etc.'.
'Can you even remember your life before this?'
Um, yep.
And if you can't then I feel a little sorry for you. Because, honestly, my life before my son was fantastic. It is more so with him but that does not diminish the fact that I have been living a very lucky and very interesting life for quite some time. Before him, I traveled, I studied, I lived, I loved and I remember every single bit of it. I think if I were to embrace the alternative it would make me less of a mother for him and most certainly less of a whole human being for myself.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Mono... Not just for teens
Ok, here goes. My only res'delusion' this year was to actually write regularly again... And then I dsicovered that there was a much more famous (and funny!) blog named Baby Rabies. You should totally check it out. She's more reliable than I am by far.
Anyway,we've settled, sort of, into a routine in the last few weeks and one of the things that strikes me about this phase of 'mom-ness' is that it seems to be predictable. Mono. As in, monotonus. Now, before you get me all tied to a stake and ready the gasoline, what I am not saying is that I am bored. Well, if I'm honest, sometimes I am. Rather it bears comparison to any of the old school Disney roller coasters, where you trundle along amongst things that are cute and endearing, only to find this punctuated by moments of amazement when a sudden turn or dip catches you off guard. Now, these punctuations are sources of amazement for me, as I watch my son begin to interact with his environment; but I would like to list for you a sample of daily activity.
Wake up, change diaper. Make bottle. Feed child bottle. Feed child breakfast while drinking one of life's sweet nectars, espresso. Clean up from Jackson Pollack style breakfast remnants. Change diaper. Attempt to accomplish ________(fill in as needed). Concede general failure. Play. Read some single sentence per page books. Put child down for nap.
Breathe. Use newly cherished free time to do something you used to abhor but are now grateful to fit in your day (exercise DVD). Shower quickly. If lucky, do dishes or laundry.
Child wakes. Make bottle. Feed child. Debate whether high chair mess predicts impressionist or cubist. Change diaper. Play. HOLY COW, DID HE JUST DO THAT?! Maybe make run to grocery store. Play outside. Go for a walk. Child naps.
Use time to check things off To Do list. Or maybe read a book with multiple sentences per page.
Child wakes. Feed child. Make mental note to feed dog less as a result of total 'dropped' food intake. Play. WOW THAT WAS COOL. Crankiness on part of child prompts frequent time checks. Change venue for sanity of all. Read some books. Feed child. Bath. Bed.
And there you have it. Some pretty amaxing stuff happens in there, but to be fair a whole lot of really normal, monotonous stuff tries its best to run out the clock.
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