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One of Commuter Girl’s new favorite games is hide and seek. Granted, she always hides behind the same bush in the yard, and she stands to the side so she can see you “looking” for her. But she squeals with delight when you find her at last. She has a lot of hiding places in the house. No, not in closets or behind doors. Not rolled up in the curtains or under the desk. She can hide in the middle of our living room. In just about any spot in her room. It isn’t even a challenge to find a hiding place in the family room. Why? Because we have so much STUFF! How in earth did we end up with so many stuffed animals? We need to read a new book every day for the next 6 months to get through her library. There are enough puzzles to share with her entire toddler room…and each toddler could have two. We have more random trinkets that are stuffed in bags than I can count. Oh, and bags…she must have 12 tote bags in a variety of sizes. Don’t even get me started on the clothes! So, spring cleaning is in order. I hate to throw any of it away, so I’ve found a great consignment store and I think I might try www.freecycle.org. I would have a yard sale, but who has time?!? I am implementing a new rule based on Negative Crap Flow. If something new comes into the house…two things must leave – and they must be of equal or greater size than the new item. Wish me luck. If I don’t show up for work on Monday, you’ll know why…I’m buried under a pile of stuff.
I was just looking at the comments posted to one of CommuterMom’s entries (Juice) and noticed the praise for the positive post. It made me realize that I tend to post about problems and concerns. So I thought I’d take this opportunity to just riff on what I love about NewGirl and being a working mom. I love her gummy, toothless smile…and that she loves watching other children play…that NewDad and I get along even better since becoming parents…that NewGirl has teachers that she and I both LOVE LOVE LOVE and who love her back…that I have a great boss and great team at work that give me the flexibility I need to be a good and unstressed gainfully employed mom. I love seeing her learn new things without even being taught…I love her rock-hard abs (seriously!) and strangely long tongue…I love being able to give valuable experience-based advice to another mom facing an issue we’ve overcome or just looking for good ideas…and I love getting ideas and advice from other moms and dads who have recently “been there, done that.” I love the sheer sense of completeness of holding a content sleeping baby for a long, long time…the unmitigated motivation to get off the couch and out of the house every weekend…the giddiness of doing old things for the first time again (like taking NewGirl to vote for the first time this coming SuperDuper Tuesday and then planning for the 2044 campaign when she’ll be able to run for President). I love the risk-taking thrill of sneaking into her room to watch her sleep, and the successful escape without waking her…I love the sheer joy she brings me every day, the pride I have in her and being her Mom, and the knowledge that the rest of her life is full of adventures that have yet to unfold for her and me both.
I had my worst moment as a parent yesterday. My eyes are welling up just writing about it now. But here it goes. My child care center and my office are in the same location — the center is sponsored by my company. But parking can be tough. So, even though there are a dozen well-plowed, salted, and de-iced parking spots right in front of the center reserved for child care drop-off and pick-up, I typically choose to park father away, in a spot where I can leave my car for the rest of the day, and I carry NewGirl in from there. That’s what I was doing yesterday when, walking at brisk full speed, I slipped on the ice, down on my knees, and my little baby girl fell back and whacked her head on the asphalt and ice. I was paralyzed for the few seconds it took before she started screaming, and then I was grateful and horrified all at once. I was so happy to hear her howling, conscious, alive — and I was frightened, guilty, and terrified about what could have been. I brought her into her classroom, and I know I tried to open my mouth to explain what happened, to ask them to pay special attention to her, to let me know if she fell asleep unusually early. But instead I had to shove her into her teacher’s hands, turn around and leave the room without uttering a single word. My daughter was fine. I was a wreck. I’m not usually prone to crying, but here I was, bawling, completely unraveled. It took me a good 15 minutes to compose myself just enough to go back in the classroom, talk to the teachers, explain it all, and give my daughter a huge hug and kiss goodbye. The center was wonderful. They called the property manager to complain about the icy parking lot, the teachers called me later in the day tell to me what a great day NewGirl was having and suggest I come down to see for myself. And the Director called me at the office just to see how I was doing. The answer is: I’m not sure. I’m relieved and have my wits about me again, yet I can’t help but doubt myself as a mother. It’s not the accident itself — I understand those things happen. But when my daughter could have needed me the most, I had to pass her into the arms (and albeit loving care) of someone else, because I didn’t have the strength to pull it together. That will live with me for awhile, I think. At least, I’m not the only one.
OK. I admit it; I’m a stroller loser. After spending months and months during my pregnancy checking out every stroller on the market, hemming and hawing over the Zippy and the Zooper and the Pliko, the Phil and Ted and Bob, I gave up and got the Graco. It was $199 WITH the car seat, it was purple, it was light and it wasn’t hip, but it seemed just fine. I was really perfectly happy with it, or so I thought, until I went to Boston.com and saw this article by Kate Jackson, Coveting Thy Neighbor’s Stroller . I think I’ve been outed. I’ve never met Ms. Jackson and am not mentioned by name in the article, but I swear she must have a window into my soul.
Because, just as I thought I felt confident and smart about my practical and cost-effective purchase, I read her story and realized she was talking about me. I can’t take NewGirl on a walk without eyeballing every other stroller that passes us by. I wonder how much more exciting and fulfilling their lives must be when moms and dads breeze by in their Bugaboos and Bertinis. Those must be the people whose babies sleep through the night, never spit up, and find a diaper change to be a blissful experience. Equally embarrassing, I really check out the families that have the same stroller we do. What do I think the stroller says about them? How cool — or not — do they seem? And just as I am about to drown in my own stroller insecurities, I have a brilliant strategic plan. I’ll recommend in gushing glory our Graco Metrolite stroller car seat combo package to every hip pregnant woman I see. Seriously — it’s the perfect stroller for you. I promise!
OK, so what’s wrong with me? I can’t believe how much energy I have. I’m sleeping in two hour stints, with an hour between for feeding NewGirl and getting her back to sleep. I’ve found it impossible to take the advice to “sleep when the baby sleeps” during the day. And yet, when people ask how exhausted I must be as a new parent, I must admit, I’m not. I’m sure it’s a combination of a very easy recovery from labor and delivery together with pure adrenaline. But I’m happy to be on the phone with family, friends, and even colleagues. I’m walking up a storm around town, and I’m feeling great.
I’m sure it’s just “new baby high,” and I’m bound to come crashing down sometime, but for now I feel like the energizer bunny. Did anyone else experience this same adrenaline rush? If so, when did it all change?
Am I the only one with recall fatigue? Yet another toy recall announced, and I’m just not sure how much I can care anymore. The first big recall was announced, and I checked our house for all the products on the list. Miraculously, I found none. The second recall notice came, and a little less frazzled, I did a quick survey. After all, my kids are beyond the stage of mouthing their toys. Now a third recall, and I barely have the wherewithal to care. It’s terrible, I know. My children’s safety really does come first. But is anyone else finding the sheer volume of recall announcements somewhat numbing?
Hi all. I’m still on cloud nine, with an unexpected amount of energy. So I figured I’d share a brief overview of our birth story.
First, so much for that induction date my doctor scheduled. Two weeks before I was scheduled to be induced, I went in for what I thought was a fairly routine ultrasound. Turns out my amniotic fluid was low and they sent me right away to Labor and Delivery. What a whirlwind! My husband wasn’t with me, I had forgotten my cell phone that day, and was just kind of shocked that I was supposed to leave the exam room, walk down the block into the hospital to have my baby. I used the phone at the reception desk and after three tries, finally tracked NewDad down. He met me at the hospital where they started an induction as soon as he arrived. True to form, NewDad remembered everything he needed to bring and then some – including the list of names we were considering.
They started the induction that night, I got a little sleep, and by the next morning, everything was in full gear. Except for some hiccups with the epidural, everything really went quite smoothly. NewGirl’s head is very small, and my body thanks her for my resulting easy recovery.
I would share more specifics, but apparently I don’t remember the labor all that well, because every time I try to tell the story, NewDad says that I’m so inaccurate about the timetable, the details, etc, it’s as if I weren’t there. Am I alone, did anyone else experience their labor and delivery as an out of body experience?
New Girl’s here!
Just a quick note to announce New Girl’s arrival. She’s happy and healthy, and we’re elated. A nice and compact 6 ½ lbs, with lots of hair and a sweet demeanor. I’ll hope to catch up on blogging soon, but right now I’m going to stare at my sleeping baby for another few hours.
What “they” don’t tell you about baby brain is that your brain doesn’t necessarily bounce back to normal once the baby is born.
Lists have become a necessity in my life, rather than just a nice organizational tool. After being back at work for three weeks, I realized I had to create a list of what to pack each morning before I left; with such a long commute I don’t have the luxury of turning around for a forgotten item. I came to that realization after leaving CommuterGirl’s change of clothes at home, often forgetting a clean sheet for her crib, leaving my wallet in the diaper bag at school for the third time. Yes, the third time. The first two times I realized my wallet was at school after spending 30 minutes of my lunch break filling up the cart at the grocery store. You’d think I’d have learned after the first abandoned shopping cart. The third wallet-less incident was a little worse. I was driving to work and realized I needed gas…really needed gas. CommuterDad had to leave work at 8:45, drive 15 minutes and meet me so he could buy my gas.
The first thing on my “going to work” list…mommy’s wallet.
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