New parents often like to talk about how much their life truly has changed since their little bundle(s) of joy arrived. They dither on about shifting priorities, new hopes and dreams, a new appreciation for the simple things in life, and various other bumper stickers and cliches.
Truth be told, I have had those moments as well. I love being a mom. I waited a long time to be a mom and I am savoring those precious moments that I know will end as soon as puberty hits. But motherhood isn't all rainbows and unicorns.
Rainbows need rain. And I assume even unicorns make a mess from time to time. Parenthood is not always a joyous, uplifting endeavor. It can be frustrating, agonizing and stressful.
So how am I really, truly different this week? Because I now consider this the best text message I have ever received:
Cooper finally pooped.
Hello, parenthood. It's nice to meet you.
- The 2nd Mommy
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
The Emotional Rollercoaster Called Motherhood
I am hoping it is the sleep deprivation but my emotions have been all over the place since the boys have arrived.
Generally speaking, I was once a pretty mellow kind of gal. A dear friend and former roomie (hi, Mo - miss you!) once declared that if I were any more laid back, I'd be horizontal. Sadly, I am just a basket of nerves now and horizontal is a position I am rarely in. Instead, I have been stuck in an emotional wasteland that I fear every mother must visit at some point in order to fully earn the title.
The worst pitstop on this journey is guilt. The boys are just over a month and I have already established residency in this state. The worst: when Cooper received a shot at the doctor's office this past week. I knew it would be awful because of the crying but I was not prepared for what happened when he stopped crying. He suddenly looked up at me with the biggest eyes and the saddest look on his face and I am pretty sure he asked, "Why, mama? Why have you forsaken me?" I have never felt so horrible in my life. Instead of a college fund, I am putting away money for their future therapist.
The paranoia is no picnic, either. Everything scares me now. We actually got a mosquito net (thanks, Hillary M.) for the stroller! We look like a rolling ad for an anti-malaria campaign. I feel like we are traveling through the DMZ in Vietnam every time we go out but I couldn't find a bulletproof canopy a la the Pope mobile, so the net will have to do.
And then there is the happy couple: doubt and fear, the constant companions of new mothers everywhere. The list is too long for this blog but the latest fear is centered around eating. One day, it seems like they are eating too much. Their heads have gotten so big that they actually look like floats for the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade (albeit the CUTEST floats ever). Andrew squeaks, sniffles and chortles so much during his feedings that it often feels like Baby Gollum at the other end of the bottle. I am waiting for him to grab it from my hands, caress it and start referring to it as my precioussssss. But other days, it seems like they are the tiniest creatures in the world and they have little to no interest in eating at their usual times, which also keep changing. We even tried to do an Excel spreadsheet to figure out a pattern but my not-so-beautiful mind couldn't figure it out.
And this just leads us right back to guilt. Apparently, we are on a roundabout of motherhood....
- The 2nd Mommy
Generally speaking, I was once a pretty mellow kind of gal. A dear friend and former roomie (hi, Mo - miss you!) once declared that if I were any more laid back, I'd be horizontal. Sadly, I am just a basket of nerves now and horizontal is a position I am rarely in. Instead, I have been stuck in an emotional wasteland that I fear every mother must visit at some point in order to fully earn the title.
The worst pitstop on this journey is guilt. The boys are just over a month and I have already established residency in this state. The worst: when Cooper received a shot at the doctor's office this past week. I knew it would be awful because of the crying but I was not prepared for what happened when he stopped crying. He suddenly looked up at me with the biggest eyes and the saddest look on his face and I am pretty sure he asked, "Why, mama? Why have you forsaken me?" I have never felt so horrible in my life. Instead of a college fund, I am putting away money for their future therapist.
The paranoia is no picnic, either. Everything scares me now. We actually got a mosquito net (thanks, Hillary M.) for the stroller! We look like a rolling ad for an anti-malaria campaign. I feel like we are traveling through the DMZ in Vietnam every time we go out but I couldn't find a bulletproof canopy a la the Pope mobile, so the net will have to do.
And then there is the happy couple: doubt and fear, the constant companions of new mothers everywhere. The list is too long for this blog but the latest fear is centered around eating. One day, it seems like they are eating too much. Their heads have gotten so big that they actually look like floats for the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade (albeit the CUTEST floats ever). Andrew squeaks, sniffles and chortles so much during his feedings that it often feels like Baby Gollum at the other end of the bottle. I am waiting for him to grab it from my hands, caress it and start referring to it as my precioussssss. But other days, it seems like they are the tiniest creatures in the world and they have little to no interest in eating at their usual times, which also keep changing. We even tried to do an Excel spreadsheet to figure out a pattern but my not-so-beautiful mind couldn't figure it out.
And this just leads us right back to guilt. Apparently, we are on a roundabout of motherhood....
- The 2nd Mommy
Sunday, September 11, 2011
One Month Down
We have survived our first month.
I used to laugh to myself when I heard new parents say this, wondering why they were so smug and pleased with themselves about surviving one single month with a child (or children) who were obviously going to be there a lot longer than that. My God, they hadn't even hit the hard parts yet (potty training, preschool, teen years, the sex talk, etc.) and already they were celebrating?!!??! One month isn't enough time to see how much therapy your kid is going to need down the road because you laughed at their decoupage ashtray! Your job hasn't even started yet, so why the hell are you patting yourself on the back??!
I was so naive. I now include you in my toast to the parents who do make it that first month with their sanity more or less intact.
Here is to learning how to survive and thrive on less sleep than you thought was humanly possible. The Saint and I no longer sleep; we take snaps (short sleep time + nap = snap). We are pleased to say that sleep deprivation has not gotten the best of us....except the other night when I thought the extra pillow in our bed was our third child and panicked when I realized I was sleeping on "him." Or the night I drove to Target and forgot how I got there, where I parked the car and what I went there for. Or the night I almost forgot to feed Cooper as we sat in the chair together staring blankly in the dark, the bottle limply dangly in my hand. Ok, sleep deprivation has not killed any of us.
Here is to mastering the art of the big blue poo sausage courtesy of the diaper genie. I can pack those plastic baggies so tight you can bounce a bottle off of them. I hope the folks digging through our trash the other night were impressed with my camouflaging skills and that they hit every single toxic diaper that was in there. Good luck getting the smell out of your truck if you accidentally loaded one up.
Here is to shifting priorities and understanding what is really important in life. There is nothing more zen than rocking a baby in total silence, just being there for this new little life. (Ok, I may have peeked at my iPad once or twice but not nearly as much as I used to.). Here is to finally understanding what it means to live in the now and enjoy the moment.
Here is to embracing the hardest job on earth and loving every second of it...
- The 2nd Mommy
I used to laugh to myself when I heard new parents say this, wondering why they were so smug and pleased with themselves about surviving one single month with a child (or children) who were obviously going to be there a lot longer than that. My God, they hadn't even hit the hard parts yet (potty training, preschool, teen years, the sex talk, etc.) and already they were celebrating?!!??! One month isn't enough time to see how much therapy your kid is going to need down the road because you laughed at their decoupage ashtray! Your job hasn't even started yet, so why the hell are you patting yourself on the back??!
I was so naive. I now include you in my toast to the parents who do make it that first month with their sanity more or less intact.
Here is to learning how to survive and thrive on less sleep than you thought was humanly possible. The Saint and I no longer sleep; we take snaps (short sleep time + nap = snap). We are pleased to say that sleep deprivation has not gotten the best of us....except the other night when I thought the extra pillow in our bed was our third child and panicked when I realized I was sleeping on "him." Or the night I drove to Target and forgot how I got there, where I parked the car and what I went there for. Or the night I almost forgot to feed Cooper as we sat in the chair together staring blankly in the dark, the bottle limply dangly in my hand. Ok, sleep deprivation has not killed any of us.
Here is to mastering the art of the big blue poo sausage courtesy of the diaper genie. I can pack those plastic baggies so tight you can bounce a bottle off of them. I hope the folks digging through our trash the other night were impressed with my camouflaging skills and that they hit every single toxic diaper that was in there. Good luck getting the smell out of your truck if you accidentally loaded one up.
Here is to shifting priorities and understanding what is really important in life. There is nothing more zen than rocking a baby in total silence, just being there for this new little life. (Ok, I may have peeked at my iPad once or twice but not nearly as much as I used to.). Here is to finally understanding what it means to live in the now and enjoy the moment.
Here is to embracing the hardest job on earth and loving every second of it...
- The 2nd Mommy
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Oh, The Places They Will Go
My Dad likes to tell the story of how he once was changing my diaper and had to lift my naked little body up to straighten out the clothes he was attempting to put on me. As he carefully cradled me, I shit in his hand (sorry, Mom: defecated in his metacarpals).
I thought of this the other night when one of the boys (it's so hard to tell which one at 3:00 am) launched a load of poo across the changing table and onto the lovely Dr. Seuss diaper caddy we got to keep us organized and supposedly prevent such occurrences. And then the book Oh, The Places You Will Go popped into my head but with a very different meaning. The following is a piece of what went through my mind:
You have been here for just 3 weeks
And already you've sprung some leaks.
You hit the shades, the wall and ceiling
You hit my nose and sent me reeling.
You hit your mouth and caught your breath
Which nearly scared my half to death.
But I am sure, as we both well know,
These are not the only places you will go.
I imagine the day will come
Where you will want to bare your bum
And stand upon the deck outside
To launch a stream at full stride.
Or when we're traveling in the car
To places that are distances quite far,
You will announce, after the rest area we just passed,
"Um, I don't think that was just gas."
These are but a few of the places you will go.
And I can tell you this for a fact,
Though the subject lacks in tact,
One day you will find yourself stuck in school
Where bodily functions just aren't cool
But trust me, sons: don't try to keep it in
Your pants are the worst place for urine.
(But sadly, this may be a place where you will go.)
I am sure you will go at least once in bed
(I hope it doesn't land on your brother's head.)
I bet you will go in a lake
Perhaps in a cup and a urinal cake.
If you ever travel with grandma in her car,
I know you'll go in a mayo jar
As this is a spot where all her grandchildren go.
But then one day that will come too fast
All of this will be in the past.
Pretty soon, this potty thing will be a breeze
And you will go with great ease.
Then shortly after, you will be grown.
It will be time for you to be on your own.
And though you think that you are too old
I will still want to know
About all the places where you go.
- The 2nd Mommy
I thought of this the other night when one of the boys (it's so hard to tell which one at 3:00 am) launched a load of poo across the changing table and onto the lovely Dr. Seuss diaper caddy we got to keep us organized and supposedly prevent such occurrences. And then the book Oh, The Places You Will Go popped into my head but with a very different meaning. The following is a piece of what went through my mind:
You have been here for just 3 weeks
And already you've sprung some leaks.
You hit the shades, the wall and ceiling
You hit my nose and sent me reeling.
You hit your mouth and caught your breath
Which nearly scared my half to death.
But I am sure, as we both well know,
These are not the only places you will go.
I imagine the day will come
Where you will want to bare your bum
And stand upon the deck outside
To launch a stream at full stride.
Or when we're traveling in the car
To places that are distances quite far,
You will announce, after the rest area we just passed,
"Um, I don't think that was just gas."
These are but a few of the places you will go.
And I can tell you this for a fact,
Though the subject lacks in tact,
One day you will find yourself stuck in school
Where bodily functions just aren't cool
But trust me, sons: don't try to keep it in
Your pants are the worst place for urine.
(But sadly, this may be a place where you will go.)
I am sure you will go at least once in bed
(I hope it doesn't land on your brother's head.)
I bet you will go in a lake
Perhaps in a cup and a urinal cake.
If you ever travel with grandma in her car,
I know you'll go in a mayo jar
As this is a spot where all her grandchildren go.
But then one day that will come too fast
All of this will be in the past.
Pretty soon, this potty thing will be a breeze
And you will go with great ease.
Then shortly after, you will be grown.
It will be time for you to be on your own.
And though you think that you are too old
I will still want to know
About all the places where you go.
- The 2nd Mommy
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)