Things I want you to know

Pony my love,

You are 4 months old. You were fine this time, when you got your shots. Thank God for that.

You sleep with one hand behind your head. Sometimes two. It makes you look like you are resting on a chaise lounge.

When we hold you, you keep your arms open, hands outstretched, grasping the world, if you could.

You don't like certain people, and you aren't shy about letting them know. Kind of like me.

You ate your first food at your God Mum's house. It was leek and potato soup. You liked it. Then the next day your Papa and I gave you some avocado. You liked that too.

You drink milk from a sippy cup designed for a 9 month old. You like it much more than those wretched bottles we kept trying to force upon you. You must be relieved. You seem so.

You love watching people talk. It seems to fascinate you. I think it entertains you more than any jumparoo ever could.

You love to talk. You talked right over the pediatrician during our visit, the entire visit.

You are long and lean, he said.

You laughed when I massaged the bottom of your feet tonight. That has never happened before.

You were wonderful for Irene, while your Dad and I had our first date since you were born. I thought about you the whole time. I promised your Dad I would get better about letting go. We went to dinner and then to a movie. It had George Clooney in it. He's a damn fine actor.

We got the house on The Mount. I think you are going to like it there.

I love you so much. I can't even describe how much. I get it now, what it means to have family, and watching movies or hearing tragic stories about loss is too difficult for me these days. I don't ever want to lose you or your Dad. I don't know if I could survive that. I'm not that strong.

Mom

Teething Attack

Some thoughts about you

innocence

purity

angels

closest thing to god in your eyes

we stare at each other and i thank you for being here with me 

and wonder what took you so long

grabbing your own feet

pure delight

grabbing anything really

such a huge accomplishment

laughing at yourself

loving fabric

hating teething toys

smiling when you go to bed

crying when you have to take a nap

but not for long

and not really crying

anymore

you watch everything with such interest

now

always alert

always noticing

What are you thinking, Pony P?

i can't wait to hear your thoughts

a penny isn't enough

i'll give you everything i have

because you

you have "stretched my heart and made me big inside"

and for that

i will forever be grateful

more than grateful

but i don't know the word for that

it's too big 

and you are so small

i love you

ferociously

and always will

momma

I miss you Pony.
And it's only been fifteen minutes.  But I rushed home from the Americana, where I was trying to find jeans that fit, and fed you because you wouldn't take the bottle from Irene, and now I've gone again to the cafe to write and I want to cry I miss you so much.
I also wanted to cry trying on jeans.
So maybe it's a hormonal thing.
But nevertheless, leaving you is always hard.

Trina thinks its' adorable how you sing and talk.  She thinks you got it from me.  The talking part, that is.  Trina has heard me sing.  She knows better than that.  I'm not popular at Karaoke.

What I think is adorable is how your face lit up when I walked in the door today.  And the big smiles you had for Irene after you ate.

So what if we have to wait until you can drink milk from a sippy cup?  I hate to admit how much I love how much you need me.  It's a guilty little pleasure I admit to no one.

I talked your Dad into waiting until we are back from visiting his family in South Dakota over Christmas (yikes it will be COLD) and you are over 6 months old to do any formal sleep training.  Phew.

We are moving February first.  To where we do not know.  Somewhere near nature, of that I am almost 100% sure.  I am trying really hard to stay out of the results.  Not my forte.

I think I am going to go nap in my car.  I know it sounds weird, but to me, it actually sounds super quiet and small.

I'm rambling.

I love you.  I can't wait to see you in 45 minutes.

Mom

Naps and teething

I am so new to this, I apologize, dear Pony, if I don't always read your signals correctly.

Yesterday was a doozy.  You refused your first nap, that's never happened before.  I felt deflated and defeated, hence, the previous post.  However, last night you slept 8 HOURS in a row!  Who's baby did you become?

Maybe you overheard your Papa and I discussing sleep training but honey, although I know this won't keep up, but if it does, it will certainly strengthen my argument that you are super baby and don't need any training.

So if you can, do.

Last night some ladies and I were discussing SAFETY and where it comes from and I realized, my idea that if I move us to a "safe" place, like La Canada, does not guarantee safety by any means.  In fact, as a dear friend pointed out, growing up in a "safe" place like Laguna Beach only made me want to rebel and get the hell out of there as fast as my little 18 year old legs could take me. I didn't get very far, I think Los Angeles is less than 50 miles away, but it was far enough for me.

Safe isn't something outside of me, it has to be inside and reside with God.  Rely or just believe?  I have to choose rely or else I am in big trouble emotionally.

I didn't realize either until last night that the horrible morbid picture show I was living in for the first three months of your life is a symptom of postpartum whatever.  It might not be depression, but it's a version thereof.  Phew.  That really made me feel a lot less dark and messed up, I'll tell you that.  I was really worried there for a minute.  I never told anyone just how worried I was about my mental health, but it was a little scary.  I feel much better since you turned 3 months and even better now knowing, once again, my thoughts are not things and they are not me.  They just are.

I think you are teething.  I'm not sure.  But whenever you chew on a hard teething toy you kind of freak out.  You start crying and I can't figure out why.  But if you only chew on fabric and the soft squishy squares, you are alright...hmmm... don't give you hard teething toys?  Could that be the answer?  I don't know.  All I know is when it happened this morning I gave you homeopathic teething gels and solubles and distracted you with rainbows.  In fifteen minutes you were asleep.

Now you rest.

And supposedly I am meant to rest when you do.  Ha.  Who are they kidding?

I have way too many important things to do like window shop on Zulily.

I love you monkey.

xx
mom

I really want to get a tattoo today.
I don't even care what it is.
Because, I lied.
It is either/ or.  Cry it out or they run your life.  No middle ground.  No easy way out.
It is the definition of a dilemma, where neither option looks good.
And with my decision making challenges and emotional handicaps, trying to have a rational discussion about this stuff with my uber rational husband is tense, to say the least.
He's right and I am right and somewhere in the middle we two shall meet and there you will be Pony, sleeping like a baby.

Such a strange misleading idiom.

A part of me is very attracted to the simplicity and no bullshit clarity of basic sleep training.  But then another part of me hurts just thinking about it.
It's the ole head vs. heart thing.
And it's the only place where my husband and I diverge.  And this is incredibly painful for someone as innately codependent as I am.
I want to merge.
At all times.
And I know I have said this before, but Pony, THANK GOD for your father and his views, because there would absolutely be no balance without him.

You are an amazingly wonderful baby, Pony.  I can't wait to see who you become.

Every day with you is a gift.

I went to a meeting tonight and heard women talk of grief and loss.  They were so beautiful and powerful in their sorrow.  It scared me but also made me realize the preciousness of this life, and like Robin said, not just the preciousness of the life we think we want to be living, but the actual one we are living right now.

And right now, even though we aren't living where I want to live or think we should live, I am loving living with you and your Dad.

I love our mornings.  Our family mornings.  Where Papa goes to get you and we all hang out and talk about our dreams from the night before.

You, my heart, are becoming quite the chatterbox.  It's a beautiful thing.

I guess you like to talk, just like your Momma.

xx
mom

Things I wish I had known....

I was referred to this great blog written by a fellow new mom and she asked us other new moms to talk about things we wished we had done or known before embarking on this crazy ride- so here are my thoughts:


First of all, anyone who says she loves being pregnant, I am immediately suspicious of.

Secondly, the writer of the blog suggested a baby bootcamp for prospective parents.  A 'training' of sorts where you wouldn't  be allowed to give the baby back once it started screaming but had to actually deal with it ALL NIGHT LONG.  Although I think this is a brilliant idea, nothing can prepare a Mother for the physiological, emotional, and mental stress hearing her very own baby's cry does to her.  It's insane how deep this shit goes.  It is core.  I find myself shaking, sweating, crying, and huddled in the corner in the fetal position in a matter of seconds when my baby wails.  This doesn't happen to my husband because he didn't grow her in his body for 40 weeks.  That still blows my mind and doesn't really make sense.  That she lived INSIDE of me and now lives OUTSIDE of me.  I don't think she's fully come to terms with it either.  I mean, she's only 3 months.  We are just getting out of the fourth trimester.  I hear that pretty soon though she does get it and it freaks her the fuck out.  Looking forward to that.

Which brings me to one of the biggest things I wish we'd done that we didn't-  HAD A DISCUSSION about how we would respond, as a team, to her cries.  I guess if you aren't co-parenting it isn't an issue, but if you are, it's not the time to argue about it when you have a screaming infant in your arms, because primarily your hormones are raging and every cell of your being is commanding you to do whatever it takes to soothe the baby and anyone who suggests otherwise is an immediate threat and traitor.  And these little people are SHARP.  They KNOW what  you are feeling even if you don't.  And no matter how hard you might try to hide it, they smell fear and anxiety like an animal and will respond accordingly.  I regret those moments the most.  It took us a while but we are now a well oiled co-parenting machine, and getting there took a lot of listening and talking and compromising on both our parts, but we are better parents because of it.

The writer of the blog mentioned the beating her vagina took and how intense the recovery was.  I didn't have that experience.  I was forewarned how scary pooping would be at first, which was true.  But my vagina actually shrunk.  In fact, if I'd known this would happen, I would have had a child sooner.  It's been sort of a blessing for me.  I guess every vagina is different.  Who knew?

What I didn't take seriously enough was how traumatic the birthing was for my baby.  We were induced and she endured a good 14 hours of hard ass contractions with no break.  I was able to get an epidural, which saved me from a cesarean, I believe, but my daughter had nothing.  Her head was pounding against my cervix the entire time. Although it was the best thing I have ever done for my daughter, going to the Osteopathic doctor, I wish I'd taken her sooner.  She didn't have to endure, again, three months of irritability, uncomfortability, and spitting up ferociously.  All of which disappeared once we saw the lovely Dr. Nevins.  Next birth, that woman is at our house the next day.

Another thing- a big thing- is I really wish someone had given me the permission to stay home the first two months and do absolutely nothing but bond with my baby.  I am sure people did tell me that, but I didn't hear it the way I needed to and I kept trying to do too much.  I wish I hadn't.  And another thing- everyone can wait to see the damn baby.  I didn't need to host a bunch of meet and greets with well meaning friends who didn't seem to know when to leave early enough.  No fault of their own.  It was all mine.  I was terrified to ask for what I needed.  Mainly because I didn't even know I could need or want that kind of solitude.  But it's okay to cave.  Second baby, you won't see me for awhile, I promise.

The writer talks about getting help.  YES.  HELP ME PLEASE should of been the easiest words out of my mouth, but silly little me was too stubborn to say them.  Although, I have to say, we never used our doula in the hospital and I feel pretty good about how my husband and I handled those first few weeks alone, in shock, two deer in the headlights, two ships passing in the night.  We did it.  And it was incredibly bonding.  Because our daughter didn't do much those first few weeks.  It was when she began The Witching Hour that we lost our shit.  That was when we needed help and didn't ask for it.  That was when we needed the village.  We have no village.  No family around.  It was like a giant wave of relief when my Mom finally came up to stay with us.  We both had no idea help could be so good.  We want help now.  We crave it.  In fact, today is the first day that Pony has been with  her new BFF, Irene, for the entire day.  On Thursdays they are going to hang out together playing games and learning Spanish.  And on Thursdays now I am going to teach, and write, and run errands and whatever the hell I want to do.

I used to be militant about no other woman raising my child, but I have to tell you, as hard and strange as it was to watch her walk out the door with my daughter in the stroller and for me to leave the house alone, it is kind of miraculous at the same time.  I couldn't do it every day of the week, but one day, one day feels like a mini vacation and I am super grateful and recharged.  And it kind of surprised me, but I did vet this woman thoroughly and I heard it happens with her, my little angel seems to LOVE her already.   I went home to nurse before going to write and Pony was all smiles and giggles.  Amazing.

HELP IS GOOD.

The writer recommends acknowledging loss and grieving it.  Although this wasn't my experience, I have heard of this.  I don't know if it is because my husband and I have been sober for so long, but what we lost we don't miss.  We both wanted a new paradigm in our lives and were totally excited for it.  Although it's been mind blowingly more challenging than we ever could of realized, it was more about acknowledging CHANGE than grieving loss for me.  I always wanted to live in the moment and this baby keeps me so present, reveling in a smile, a giggle, a coo.  No Self-Help book can do that to you.  If you really want to be here now, just look into your sweet child's eyes.  It'll pull you back every time.

Parenting for me is like one never ending spiritual lesson after another that never lets up- day or night. It's relentless and demanding and ever so rewarding.  Because at the end of the day, I haven't thought about myself half as much as I used to and that, to me, is a gift. Like a dear friend once said- Parenting is the most spiritual thing you will ever do.  That is, if you accept the challenge as such.  Perception is everything.  Change your perception and you change your life.

Lastly, I completely agree with the writer about wishing I had been more forewarned about Parenting Philosophies and what they really are.  Just philosophies that either help or hinder.  There are amazing things about the entire spectrum of parenting that make perfect sense to me and I wish I'd spent less time reading about them and more time meditating and being quiet before this baby was born.  Because your own particular parenting style I think evolves whether you want it to or not.  Everyone is making concessions that either nip something in the bud or kick the can farther down the road, but in the end you have to find what works for you and your family.  Like vaginas, they are all different.  I resented my husband slightly at first because he was very adamant that we not have the Family Bed and you know what, 3 months later we have a peaceful little sleeper in her own bed in her own room and I have a husband I can snuggle with in the morning while we listen to her coo and giggle to herself.  It's pretty special and intimate and works 100% for us.  And we never sleep trained or let her cry it out for hours on end.  We did a very gradual gentle approach that we didn't even know we were doing.  It just began with a co-sleeper on the bed, which became a bassinet next to the bed, then the bassinet was in her room for day time naps, and finally it became the landing pad for nighttime sleep at around 3 months and now it's her crib.  So it doesn't necessarily have to be either or.  There can be a middle road.  It does involve crying however, but how much is up to you.

It's so funny because at the end of her post the woman says the only thing she would have done differently would have been to hire a doula and that is the one thing I would have not done.  I would have taken the money we spent on our doula and spent it on another baby moon, or another movie, or another dinner.  That is time well spent.  Not sleeping.  That you can't have memories of.  But holding hands and watching a quiet beautiful sunrise while you are pregnant with life, that is priceless.

Decisions

I went for a walk today with a new dear friend and we talked about this very thing- decisions.

Why are they so damn hard to make?   At least for me they are.  And you'd think it would only be decisions that really mattered, that had serious life consequences- like changing your entire trajectory- but no, they can be as simple as 'would you like vanilla or chocolate' and my heart starts pounding and my head racing exploring in nanoseconds the possible repercussions of each until I land, hesitantly on one.

Vanilla.

Always.

I don't even like chocolate things except real dark chocolate yet I still sweat a little before I decide.

Decide.  Decisions.

Is it a Pisces thing?  A commitment thing?  A pathological thing?

Fear of....

Making the WRONG decision.

Like that would kill you.  Well, in some cases I guess it could.  But I have read or heard it said by much bigger spiritual giants than I will ever be that there are no WRONG decisions.  Huh.

I certainly can look back on my life and see some serious BAD decisions I have made.  Like...Sorry Pony, I better not write any of those stories here.  Not yet.  Not till you are ole enough to understand.

Suffice to say, as I look back on my life and ponder this, were any of those BAD decisions WRONG.  Because if I hadn't made all of them, I might not of ended up where I am today, of which everything feels so RIGHT.  And it's never felt RIGHT before.

So RIGHT vs. WRONG?

If there really is no R vs. W and it's all just an erroneous judgment, still, I ask, how do you decide what to do?  If it doesn't really matter which decision you make, if you really are okay no matter what, why decide at all?  Maybe the idea that WE make the decision at all is erroneous.  Maybe we are being lulled into thinking we made the decision when it was something bigger than us all along and then wouldn't it make more sense to stop the fight the back and forth the angst and the pain and just be led?  But it is so hard to trust when we so badly want to know that everything will be okay in the end.

It's fear of the big unknown.  And it is a terrifying fear.  It's not cute or funny at all.

Becoming a new mom I am faced with so many decisions about you Pony.  And it is really really hard for me, because I so want to do it RIGHT.  Whatever that is.  I don't even know.  And it keeps changing, this RIGHT way of parenting.  Like the article my friend gave me, this yardstick we use to judge ourselves as parents does more to harm us than to help us.

I just want to sit back and enjoy being your Mom Pony and pray that I make GOOD decisions for you, based on the highest good for you, our family, and mankind.  (that mankind part sounded a bit dramatic but I'm keeping it because things in 3's are more poetic sounding)

I watch other people make decisions with ease, and I envy them.  Maybe someday I will too.  But I really resonate with people who struggle with them, who see both, all, and every side and realize even if there are no WRONG decisions, there certainly are some seriously painful and difficult ones where neither decision feels very good.  And that is life Pony.   You will have to make those someday.  I just hope I can be there for you, as a sounding board, and a friend.  Because sometimes that is all it takes to help you make a decision.  Suddenly the light goes on and you hear in your own words that the decision has already been made.  Now you just need to trust it.

I always want someone to decide for me, like your Dad.  He's good at making decisions.  But that's one of the reasons I love him so much and why he's so good for me.  He lights a little fire under my ass and doesn't get mad at me when I change my mind...a thousand times.

See, there are times when I can make a decision.  But then I second guess myself and that is when the games begin.  But here is something I think I am realizing as I write this rambling long strange blog, that the first decision, instinctively, that comes up, the one that wants to escape my lips before I've had to the time to 'think' about it, that is usually, if not always, the best decision for me.  Because it's a heart thing and not a head thing.

Aha.

Get out of your head Pony, and into your heart.  And you will always know exactly what to do.

I forget.

That is why I write, to remember.

I love you P.

xx
Mom

Happy Halloween!

I had no idea how hard it was to write in 10 minute blocks spread out over days and weeks, sometimes.  It challenges the whole 'flow' notion of writing.  I can't get into any groove, once I do, I have to jump up and attend to the baby. (that's you, peanut)  And when I finally sit back down all my thoughts about whatever I was riffing on have changed.  I have tons of unfinished blogs out there in the blog ether, cold and lonely, waiting for a home they'll never find.

Oh well.

You passed out tonight at 5:30pm.  Not sure if that means you'll stay asleep, but I couldn't keep you up any longer.  I am trying though because I hear when daylight savings ends this weekend, the whole world could turn upside down as you, my dear, don't tell time yet.  Ha.

We have a new person in our lives, P.  Her name is Irene.  We met her today.  She is going to be playing with you on Thursdays so I can go teach and play myself for a little bit. You seemed to like her.  She has very sweet, kind energy and obviously LOVES babies and children, you can tell.  She wanted to hold you right away.  How could she not?  You are too adorable for words.  Seriously kid, you kill me with your cuteness.  I hope this works out.  Go gentle on her this Thursday and for the love of God, child, please take the bottle.

It's 6pm and I hear you waking up already.

See what I mean?

If I leave this blog for later, I'll never get to it.  I have to publish this, this meager little tidbit, and begin anew.


Real quick though- one of the people that lived her before us told Papa that there were TONS of tricker treaters in this neighborhood.

There was one.

And he was dressed up like the UPS guy.

Glad I bought 40 dollars worth of crappy candy.

We are moving.

In March.

It's all I want for my birthday.


Love,

Mom