A Game and a Guess

I’ve been thinking about how little I knew and little I know about raising a child. Some of what I believed were researched, educated comments have really come back to bite me.

“Oh, babies need to cry it out it’s the only way they’ll learn to sleep. So you just let them cry, no big deal.” Sure, yes. Sometimes babies need to fuss and sleep is a vital skill, so you do what you must to get there. But letting them cry is SO DANG HARD. I tried it for the first time at four weeks old – could not handle it. I told Tyler he was too young, I’d try at two months. At two I said he’s so small and colicky and sad, but definitely by at least four months old I’ll let him cry.

Well he’s pushing four and a half months at this point and the best I can do is let him fuss/cry for five minute increments. Then I rub his head, his tummy and go back after five minutes. I respect his need to sleep, and I guess it’s a plus that I rarely pick him up out of bed. We’ve worked hard at a routine, and crying isn’t often part of going to sleep for him now. But when it is I am far from the no-nonsense, tough love theory I had going on. Maybe by six months…

“Gosh, I would never sit in the back seat with my child and let my husband sit all alone up front. Pick husband over child, people!” My child hates the car. Like we begin putting him in his car seat and his face contorts, and in general it’s all vein-poppingly downhill from there, unless miraculously he is lulled to sleep (this doesn’t happen often). Yesterday I told Tyler I would pay $100 for something, anything, that would make him like the car. I am that desperate.

And so, when my nerves have found their end, Tyler or I will hop on back and sing and pat the little dude’s head and do anything to keep the peace. Even that doesn’t always work, but it’s worth a try. If you have any $100 ideas, please share. But at this point I’m eating my words from time to time. Ugh. That’s rough.

This parenthood thing is such a guessing game, and I’d never even attempt to tell anyone how to play. I hope I do a few things right in the end.

He Fixed It

I decided to make the most ridiculous cookies for a Spooky Dinner to celebrate my mom’s birthday (she’s a Halloween baby). A simple sugar cookie it seemed with orange, yellow and white becoming a super festive candy corn. Cute, right? Well, yes. But my dough looked nothing like the dough in the picture and it clung to my hands like melted gum. I should not bake after 9 p.m. It’s not good for anyone.

So what did my husband do – even after he had tried to convince me that cute food was not good food, and I wouldn't listen? He patiently took the dough added heaps of flour to the counter top and fixed the situation. All while I stood there ready to cry. He just fixed it. He fixes things.

The candy corn debacle was an end to a frustrating day. You see, I tried to have a photography session with Nixon all by myself. Don’t laugh. Our household is a little too cheap to bring in the professionals every few weeks, but Nixon is nearing four months and oh, so cute, and… long story short, I wanted pictures badly, but it wouldn’t work to buy them.

So I did what any resourceful woman would do – I set up backdrops throughout the house while Nixon was sleeping. I looked for pictures I liked online, I got a cute outfit ready, I found good lighting. I was prepared. All for naught. It was a disaster from the beginning. Nixon didn’t smile or even look at the camera. I am not a professional and the pictures proved it. It was rough. I had such a vision!

Sad little guy. Mean mommy.

He'll always smile for dad.

In came Tyler. We tried again on Sunday with his help. He was so calm and patient and brought out the best smiles in Nixon. We got pictures that will last forever. And I realized one more time why I married him. He fixes things. And he does it without anger or annoyance, even when I’m at my worst. He always has.

Nixon hit and passed up 18 pounds a few weeks ago. He grows and grows and nobody knows where his girth came from. We love the rolls, the smiles and the chatterbox he’s becoming. More on that another day.

Not So Fast

Last night I burned myself on a pan I was using to sauté red potatoes for dinner (love those). I was hurrying and I burned it pretty bad. It throbbed all night long and made it difficult to hold my baby.  It made me think of the last time I was hurrying too fast and hurt myself – the stairs on my way to the 20-week ultrasound. My knees will bear the scars forever as a reminder to slow the heck down.

Today I’ve been thinking about whether I’ve hurried too fast through Nixon’s first three months. It’s a problem for me, but I’m happy to say for once I think I’ve taken the pace just fine. Granted the first month was a bit of a blur, but otherwise I remember the moments.

He’s no longer a newborn. He’s a real baby. He’s done so well, grown so much. He weighs more than 16 lbs. for heaven’s sake! I don’t think he’s changed very much, but then I look back at his pictures or watch his videos and realize he no longer cries like an infant and he doesn’t grunt all day long anymore. (I am so happy for him. Neither of us loved the grunting.) And I’m so glad I’ve experienced life with him.

Right now the typical day for us consists of:

Eating. Every three hours.

Playing. 30-60 minutes afterwards, typically on the floor. Lots of giggles, lots of smiles. He loves it when we blow on his neck or kiss his cheeks. That gets him every time. He also loves squats with Tyler. When he’s having a hard evening, that’s our go-to. I sing a lot and tell stories, which typically get a smile. He talks back some days too. Right now he’s trying hard to roll over – he’s getting a little frustrated. I think he’ll do it any day.

Sleeping. In the morning he sleeps right up until the next feeding. His naptime gets shorter as the day goes on. Sometimes I try to rest too. Other days I clean, prep dinner, write, etc. I always have something going on.

Bedtime. A bath, a blow dry and he’s ready to eat and settle in for the night. Bedtime starts at 9 p.m. and he typically sleeps until 6-7 a.m. Two nights in a row last week he slept until 8 am.

Did I mention we totally love him?!

t

The Crown

When I was in high school I wrote a poem called “The Crown” for my creative writing class. It was fairly personal, a poem about feeling like I needed the crown of popularity and realizing it wasn’t necessary or worth what the crown required. It was a good poem I guess. As far as I know the teacher still reads it to his students.   

High school was years ago, and I have long since been at a point where I didn’t need a “crown.” I’ve never been one to need a lot of friends, and I’ve always kept myself so busy that the few incredible friends I had satisfied my need for companionship just fine. Until now.

My baby sleeps. One hour awake, two hours asleep pretty much all day long. I am so proud of him for it and happy that he’s getting the rest he needs. I am not bored, but I am alone. I have picked up reading again, rearranged my wardrobe, found some new recipes, ran some nice routes. But that only gets me until 12 p.m. or so. Then I want to talk. 

When I went to work every day, I had a built-in social network. My co-workers and I had several solid conversations daily about current events, family drama, etc. That element of my life is gone and I miss it more than any other.

I want to start a group where we just get together and talk, once from 9-10 a.m. and maybe again at 3:30 p.m. or so. We’ll all read the news often, so we all know what’s going on and bring good things to the conversation. I know, this group is not possible in a mom and naptime sort of world. But I want it. I crave it.

At any rate, I’m realizing that I need to make friends.But for the life of me I can’t remember how. It’s like my first day of high school all over again. Who knew I was living on repeat.  Here we go again. 

Good Times

I continue to be amazed at how reduced my to do list is and yet how busy I remain. I can’t tell you where the days go or even what day it is most of the time, but they definitely fly.

What a fun time of life! I'd say Nixon has enjoyed his first two and a half months. He’s gone to the farm, the golf course, the canyon, the lake and a dozen other places. Most days he just stays home with me though. He takes four naps a day and sleeps between 7-9 hours at night. His favorite things to do are to lie on his tummy, take luxurious baths (complete with a blow dry afterwards) and eat (obviously).

There are so many things I love about being a mom. I love laying on the floor and having stare contests with my baby. He has the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen. I love that he smiles more for me than for anyone else (although Tyler is a close second). I’ll do anything to make him smile.

I love how happy he is in the mornings. I love how he curls up like a little bug when I have to wake him up from a nap. I love how he lays his hand on my chest while he’s nursing. I love when he falls asleep in my arms. The books say not to let him do that – put to bed “drowsy, but awake.” Once in a while I close the book and just hold him. Until my arm goes numb, of course. He is a big boy with a big head!

I never realized how much I would love watching Nixon and Tyler play together. His first laugh was for Tyler. Nixon jumps in Tyler’s arms and scoots himself across the blanket a dozen times for Tyler. I think he reserves certain activities like this for his dad. It’s pretty adorable.

Being a mom is so much harder than I ever imagined. But at the same time it’s so much more fun. 

Back to It

Can you keep a secret? Nixon and I went for a run.

Today I hit the six-week point since baby. And that means, if all looks well tomorrow at the doctor’s, I will be cleared to run. I promised myself I would wait, but then I got curious and then ... I jumped the gun just a wee bit. I honestly couldn’t wait. It was hard an exhilarating at the same time. Oh, how I missed it!

 I can’t believe it’s finally here. I can’t believe it. Almost a year ago, I stopped running hard. I was pregnant, then it ended, then I was pregnant again two months later. Because of how it all happened, I was terrified to run. I exercised just about four times a week until five days before the little dude arrived, biking or swimming or elliptical. But running. Running was too much of a mental challenge. Even when I did jog on occasion, it certainly wasn’t heavy exercise.

 And now I’ve made it back to the point where my exercise routine can’t possibly hurt anyone, except I guess myself. I am giddy. Two weeks ago I was frustrated with the delay in healing I felt like I was experiencing. The birth process left some scars I feared would never mend. I consider it a blessing that today things are looking up. Pain is almost gone! Getting back into running shape will be a serious challenge. I am different, there’s no way around it. But I am all in. So dang excited!

The End and The Beginning

I quit my job and lost the ability to breath. For a moment.

I thought I had decided a very long time ago that stay at home mom was the gig for me. I wanted some time to make sure, so I told work I'd let them know as soon as I knew. And that's how it stood.

Three days after Nixon was born I was ready to go back to work. I was ready for the schedule, the routine, the interesting people and conversations and the fun projects. I searched for a way to make it work, even at one point asking Tyler if he felt ok with quitting his job and staying home instead.  I struggled with the 24/7 beckoning of an infant I didn't know and who I didn't feel knew me.

But I knew what, for me, was right. My baby somehow needs me and I need him. The phone call was made, the tears were shed, the fear set in. Very soon I will no longer have a job for the first time since I started babysitting consistently at age 11. Can I do this?

Interesting to me, as soon as I let go of that life, something new set in. Love. I love this baby. Whatever part of me I feel like I've lost, there's something new and different setting in. I'm becoming a mom. I still don't know what that means for me completely. I know my “to do” list has shortened substantially and some days I look back on my day and can’t for the life of me account for what I accomplished, besides keeping a child fed and clean. But I know this new life fits. However it changes me, it's who I'm meant to be.