To Swing or Not to Swing? Baby Swing!! Not The Other Kind.

One of our friends gave us a baby swing. She said "Oh, this thing was a God-send. We would just put the baby in it and he would fall right to sleep. He always took his naps in it". Their son had outgrown it to the extent of practicing escape artist in it.

I gladly accepted the swing, as Amara often fights sleep and I never quite know where to lie her for her naps once she has fallen asleep. The floor is too hard and she wakes up. The playpen is too low and graceful as I am (ahem...sure), I can not for the life of me set her all the way in the bottom without jerking or messing up in some way on the way down. The couch is unacceptable as I am afraid that her first time rolling will be right off the couch and she will have PTSD and never roll over again. And, ridiculous mother hen that I am...I carry her up and down the stairs as little as possible. I figure the less often I carry her up and down, the less the risk of me falling down them with her in tow. I know, I know....ridiculous right? But I am terrified of falling down the stairs with her, which is already happened once. Ok, I fell down stair. Singular. But it still scared me enough to never want to do it again. And I hurt myself. It still hurts, and that was 3 months ago.

So you see how complicated this naptime has become. I often just end up holding the little rugrat the entire duration of the nap, which screams "spoiled" and "beginnings of bad habits". So I thought this swing would solve my conundrum. I would put Amara in it when she started flailing arms and fussing, and she would pass out and have a happy nap and wake up and do it all over again.

Wrong. I put the little bugger in there and suddenly things look different from that heigth or angle or general position. And very, very interesting. So she sits in the swing, content but awake. And I sit there and wait for her to fall asleep, the whole time staring at her, my arms empty, and feeling like this swing is taking my place, doing my job. And she sits there, looking around, stuck in a swing, captivated. Not doing her "dead bug" on the floor (this is where her arms and legs are straight up in the air like a dead bug-she's learning her muscles) or sitting like a big girl in her Bumbo or grasping at toys or getting tummy time. Nothing, nothing but staring at things happening. Or at mommy, staring back.

I'm not sure what theories there are out on swings, although I can just imagine by way of my own emerging feelings towards them. I haven't done research on it, I haven't talked to other mommies about it. I think I will try it a few more times, but I might just end up calling it a baby forgetter. Stick your baby in this and forget about her for a while.

Don't know if I can do it.

The Sickies

I have unfortunately been experiencing a couple different realms of sickness that I have never quite visited before: having a sick baby, being sick while taking care of a baby, and being sick while taking care of a baby and a sick spouse. I hope to experience these very few times in my life, and especially in the small span of time at which our recent bout has been happening.

Amara got her first cold last week, the doctor said it would take 7 - 10 days to clear up. It lingered for its full 10 days, which was today - Sunday. But Papa Bear started feeling bad on Thursday night, and I was soon to follow on Saturday. Now, we have a well baby who is laughing and giggling (finally) and we're moping around, moaning and groaning, trying to meet feeding and playtime demands with sinus pressure and sore throat. I think every once in a while, nature just wants to remind us not to take our everyday health for granted.

Having a young infant who is sick is frustrating. They can't tell you where it hurts and there is not medicine they can take, other than baby Tylenol. Which doesn't help the coughing, sneezing, phlegm, congestion... I gave it to her anyway, for sore throat and aches. If she was a little older, I would have tried some natural remedies - some basil tea or lemon and honey or something. It is hard to sit there and watch your wee one in agony and not be able to do much save cuddle and love - which I did plenty of!! Oh, and sing You Are My Sunshine (which sounds more like "you are by sunshine" with a stuffy nose, as I force it out for my grin reward).

What have I learned through this all? Well, for starters, it is important to always disinfect doorknobs and railings and counters and such. But, my never-ending discovery is that moms are amazing. They do it all! They manage to make chicken soup while the baby is napping and not skip a beat. They find ways to tend to everyone's needs, even their own.

Mommies are amazing. And I am proud to be one.

Baby Bodies & Other Momisms

At the risk of sounding like a total pervert, I would just like to say that I love baby bodies.

It is fantastically refreshing to see someone so in awe of their body like a baby is. I don't have a great relationship with my body. I hate it. I know I shouldn't and now I'm rethinking this mind-body attitude but I have always been at war with my body and I should undoubtedly respect it a lot more than I do. But Amara knows no such war...she only knows 'whoa, hands!' and 'hello voice lets see how loud we can squeal', and that faces are meant for smiling.

I take such delight in the tiny knees and shoulders, in the itsy bitsy toes and tender fingers. When I change her clothes or diaper, I obsess over her cute-as-buttons belly (and of course razz it until she can't take it anymore). I have always believed that the only time a person gets to be perfect is when they are a baby. Before life tears at you and leaves scars and blemishes, before you have the chance to develop attitudes and opinions and biases, before you learn hate or envy or despise or hurt. This is the only time in life when people are actually perfect.

I never thought having a child would inspire so many thoughts that I have never had before. Like how my life is much more valuable now than prebaby - I MUST live to be here for my child. There's the total fascination that a woman's body can assist God in giving life. And a better understanding of my parents. Or why people with children have laugh lines (and grey hairs). But today, I am most amazed at the baby body and how wonderful and magnificent it is. And I will continue to razz and kiss, even the slobbery parts. Yes, yes I know EW. But somehow slobber doesn't bother you as much when it's your kid...or boogers. I often surprise myself by plucking out a booger here and there like it's no big deal.

By the way, WOW is mom upside-down. Wow!!

Getting Stupid

So I quit my job to be a stay-at-home-mom and now I'm afraid that I am going to "get" stupid.

I'm sure this is a reasonable fear, it is part of the reason I started this blog in the first place...I have to be careful not to let my mind go to waste. I don't mean to offend any SAH moms by saying that our jobs don't require as much thought or aren't as challenging because they are, but in a totally different way.

I have worked very hard these past several years in my career to move up, to purposefully take on jobs I knew would be tough just so that I could grow. And I was proud of that. I had a good job, and one that I even liked! I was knowledgeable and hardworking, seeking out new information and challenges. I worked at expanding my mind.

I don't honestly think it would ever be possible for me to be dumb but I swear if I start misspelling words, that's it. I guess my plan of action will be to keep blogging, keep on being social and having good conversation with like-minded individuals, and read as much as I can. This should not be a difficult plan to follow as I love these things. Hopefully my little observer will pick up on them and learn to enjoy them as much as her mommy does!

Baby is fussing, must go now.

Smitten, Absolutely Smitten

Ok, I like to think that everyone knows just how much I love my wee one but all at the same time, I know it's impossible for anyone to know what it's like to be me. So, I will try my hardest to explain it because I believe it is meaningful. If not to anyone else, it is to me.

Caution: May be sappy.

I could not possibly be more pleased with my child. I thank God for her each and every day, sometimes all day. No joke. Some days, I am just so overwhelmed with blessing that I literally sit there and thank God all day. I wonder what I did right to be able to deserve such a perfect gift and I have not figured it out yet. I think that surely I must have favor with the Lord for Him to have seen fit to bestow upon me such a child.

All the while, I am careful not to consider her 100% mine for we are all children of God and she is His creation, not mine. God chose me (lucky me) to watch over her, to bring her up and raise her, to be her earthly parent. I would have been grateful no matter who He gave me but I feel like I had a special place in God's heart when he decided to bless me with Amara.

And anytime I say me or I, I mean Andy and I.

Children are a blessing from God. Period. The Bible says. They are tiny, perfect versions of yourself that you get to mold and pour yourself into and then one day, let go into the world. And you hope that all that work you did pays off for this person because you love them unconditionally and want them to succeed. You get to watch them grow, you get to see them understand what you are teaching and use it in their life. Already, I see this.

I have always looked up to and respected my parents (duh, right? Well, some people don't feel this way about their parents and I feel very fortunate to be one who does). And now that I am a parent, I have new-found respect for them because I think they did a wonderful job and I hope I can be everything that they were. I have no complaints about my childhood.

Amara brings us so much joy. She is always happy, always content. Always giggling and laughing, rarely fussing. She has changed our home, there is a positive energy that resides here within that child. She is easy and it is impossible to be in a bad mood around her. I have read books, I have, in my pre-baby days, strained my ears to hear new moms talking about how hard it is in the beginning. Colicky babies, lack of sleep, leaving a screaming baby in the crib for 5 minutes while you step out on the porch to regain what sanity you can. Babies that won't sleep, babies that won't eat.

I have had it so easy with Amara. I think she is the exception, I really do. I think she must be. I know other moms love their children just as much as I do, but I don't know that many women get to enjoy brand new mommyhood like I have. We are 3 months into it now and I must admit that those first couple of weeks of juggling the new with the old feels surreal and quite zombie-ish. I just keep thinking that I will wake up one of these days to a fussy, much more demanding Amara (someone told me that yes, this will happen, when she hits about 13). But really, I think that content and happy is part of her personality. I think this might just be who she really is.

I would love her just the same if she was colicky. If she was fussy. If she was demanding or was born without an arm or with a disease or slow. I would love her just the same. But for now, I am oh so lucky, OH so blessed, oh SO smitten.

Moms, Moms and More Moms

It's 12:07 am and I'm all hyped up on tea. Yes, I know that sounds ridiculous but I had some iced tea with dinner and I shouldn't have. I used to be able to drink caffeine all hours but I got pregnant and swore off the stuff for 9 months and now you'd think I'd shot some espresso. So I might as well get some things off my mommy mind. Here it is.

Now that I am a mom, I find myself thinking about my mom an awful lot.

Which is sad because my mom died two and a half years ago. And I miss her very badly again, all the sudden. Not that I ever stopped missing her, but I miss her differently. I never got the chance to go over my infanthood with her in detail. She should be here, a woman should have her mother there when she gives birth, along the journey to answer all the questions and provide wisdom... to comfort worries and understand and share the things that only mothers know.

Sometimes I look at Amara and I see my mother. People make assumptions about their children awfully early. They start when the baby is in utero. "Oh, he's going to be a challenge child" or "yes, she is a night owl", "I think she's going to be shy" or "rebellious". I did it too! And the moment the baby is born, "oh, he looks like daddy" or "she has her mothers' toes". But honestly, I swear that I see my mother in her. I think she is going to talk a lot, and be social just like my mom. And she already likes being without a diaper; my mom used to tell stories about how she would rip hers off (yes, I am looking forward to that. I'm already scheming a straightjacket).

I would like to pay homage to my mother now by relating to things she said about motherhood, the few things I caught over the years and actually remember. I feel deep sorrow for all things missed here, for I have been robbed of this special exchange from mother to a daughter who is now a mother.

1.) My mom used to talk about how she would get stopped in the store or various places by strangers to comment on what a beautiful baby I was. I now understand this, as it happens to me a lot. I never knew how friendly people would be, never knew my little one would be such a conversation starter. It makes my heart swell that others take such random joy in someone that means so much to me, my little munchkin.

2.) My mom used to talk about how when we were babies (my brother and I), she always thought each new phase we were in was funner than the last. I know Amara is only 3 months old but I have already experienced this strange mixture of feelings: "Don't grow up, stay just like this forever. But oh, wait, I can't wait for you to crawl" or "talk" or "eat solids". I'm suspended somewhere between don't ever grow up and hurry up, hit your next milestone already!

3.) For some mommy reason or another, I cannot go to bed with a messy kitchen. I can't do it. I used to be able to. Now, it's an inability. I do not have the ability to go to bed with the kitchen a mess. My mom had an immaculate house, always, but somehow I did not inherit that gene. I do not keep a tidy house, never have. But these days some mommy superpower has taken over and cleans the kitchen before bed. And Lysol the countertops for heaven's sakes the bottles touch those! I never in my life bought Lysol (wow, it is expensive!) until the wee one came along and someone laser-beamed my brain into obsessing over the kitchen.

So, that is the way I can relate to my mom, and I am sure that as time moves on I will find more and more ways I have in common with the mother she was. I think she would be proud if she were here, that I am coming into my mommyhood just fine. I desperately wish she were her for some momspeak but I am super blessed with many wonderful women in my life, and for that I have a thankful heart each and every day.

The Beginning

Well, this is my beginning.

I am sitting here at the table...I woke up in the middle of the night and could not get back to sleep. I was sitting here thinking about the baby, thinking about how I can't wait for her to start sleeping in her own room because I am just itching to write before bed every night (and that is the only reason because I would keep her attached to me if it was practical). By time my little muneca (that's doll in spanish) falls asleep at night I am spent and find myself retiring for the evening as well.

I am a new mommy. My Amara Mae is two months old and I was just thinking what a shame it would be to not capture our new adventure in words. This is an experience I want to share - it is too sweet to keep to myself. Because finally, my life is filled with baby giggles. My house is filled with toys and high chair and "exersaucer". Baby blankets. Dr. Seuss. These walls finally echo coos, and reflect gummy grins. It's finally here, this, which I have been waiting for and anticipating for years...mommyhood.

Papa Bear makes a bottle and asks me the question we ask each other when he is home, "Do you want feed her or do you want me to?" I love to watch him with the baby, sitting on the couch with her in his arms, tapping her nose and speaking softly as though they have a secret. Andy and I have been married for over 2 years now, have been together more than 6. I knew he would be a wonderful father, if I could just get him to agree it was a good idea. But he is more than wonderful. He's amazing. He is gentle and loving, concerned and involved. He is everything a new daddy should be to his baby girl.

So that is us. And now, this is the story of our lives.