identity

There are a lot of things it seems that I "used to be" and want for the future. Social worker, future sexologist, dancing queen, activist etc. I used to spend a lot of time and energy getting ready for things. To go out, to chase a dream career, always getting ready always anticipating something and never knowing what was around each covner. Now I can tell you exactly what I'll be doing hour by hour everyday. Things have changed.

I had a conversation about such things with a good friend recently who is in grad school and doesnt have kids. She made a comment that that is why she doesn't want to have kids bc the woman loses her identity. I know she didn't mean to offend and she didn't. But I have spend some time thinking about this. I stil consider the future. I don't know what I want to do for a career. I no longer strongly identify myself as many things I used to.

I am "Mama."

I wake up everyday to a darling child who cannot wait for me to pick her up and lay on my chest for our morning cuddle. I play peek a boo, and hide and seek. I watch her squeel and giggle at everything I do. We dance. A lot.

Since her birth I have thought a lot about what I want to do for a career, if I can still be social worker, if it will afford me to stay home as much as possible. I've considered nursing school, personal training, starting a non profit... at the end of the day "Mama" is who I am and who I want to be. Mama has a strong interest in sexology, a passion for social justice and loves to dance. Mama doesn't have much time or need to spend getting ready for anything. Lola doesn't even require I get dressed everyday.

My identity doesn't seem to have dissipated but rather evolved. It has much deeper meaning and purpose than ever before. I am raising my child. We made her from scratch. We are keeping her safe and happy. I don't have a dream house, exotic vacations or a budding "career." But what I do have is a full life. I wake up everyday grateful for another day with my family. I take pride in making a home. I think if I'm 27 and can say my family is happy and healthy and my job is to do my part in keeping things that way, I'm good. I'm better than good. I'm "Mama."


So I have I lost something? I'm not sure that is something I can answer today. But I know I won't be on my death bed wishing I had been making more money or having a more "distinguished" title.

In the end we all have to make our own choices. I think our identity is reflected in our daily choices. How we spend our days and nights. What we make a priority. In this way Mama is an identity I choose readily and joyously. I know I could go to night school or I could have stayed in my good full time job and found a good day care provider, but there is nothing more important to me than my family. I love having dinner ready when Papa comes home. Not in spite of my feminist ideals but because of them. Because we are building something. Because we are living richly. Because I can honestly say my every action is working toward furthering theirs and my happiness. Today is all there is. Today I built a fort with Lola and we're finding a halloween costume. Today we dance.

I don't know if this is something I could have understood until now. And I don't think this is something for everyone. My life is not for everyone. But for me and my little family, this is peace. Thats all I could hope for.

P.S.

I bought a shirt today that I believe is very in style at the moment and a pair of pants that are a size I haven't wore in a long time, probably three years.  (I often say before baby, but lets be real, I wasn't thin before the baby either).

Anyway, little things make me happy.

woo!

Mama

Pickles.

Quick story.

This happened the other day.  Stuff like this happens all the time.  Just a funny example.

I was having lunch with a friend recently and the baby kept reaching for our food.  She reached for a pickle and I figured it was big enough she couldn't choke on it so I let her try it.  I also thought she probably wouldn't like it.  Go figure- my baby loves her some pickles.  

So now whenever we go places I get her a pickle to keep herself occupied while I eat.  It's not like it's a cigar.  It's not hurting her.  And to be absolutely certain I discussed it with her doctor.  

So the other day we're eating at a local deli and a group of nurses come in and sit at the table next to us.  My friend and I are eating.  Baby is sucking all the marrow out of this poor pickle and one of the nurses looks over and says, "Look at that baby over there eating that pickle...       

I 

would 

NE-VER.....!"

*insert sound of complete disgust at my parenting* 

HAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!

I don't even have a tangent.  HA. 

Thats all, 

Mama

...HA!

on sleeping

Before I had my baby people would tell me stories about how the first few months after you have your first child you can hardly sleep because they're in your bed and you just want to watch them breathe.  I did not understand this and was pretty adamant that I didn't want her in the bed.  HA!  I watched that baby breathe for months and months and she sure slept with us.  It felt natural and loving to have her next to me all the time.  Not to mention since I'm nursing it was the best way for everybody to get some sleep.  I'm talkin- we were all sleepin through the night in the second month!  Who can argue with that.  Papa and I would hold hands above her head with our little angel between us while we slept.  It was bliss.  

Then she grew.

Overnight my tiny baby became a small kid who preferred to sleep sideways and wake occassionally to kick Papa in the face many times.  This was not quite the bliss we had before. 

So as always, I turn to books.  I try to get a pretty diverse set of ideas gathered and figure out what works best for us.  I kept coming across (again) two basic ideas.

1.  Some parent choose to have alone time in the evening after they put the baby to bed.  This is the worst possible time to do this because your child needs you the most at night.  If you let her cry or be alone she will lose her trust in you- and probably not be able to easily trust anyone- ever again.  

(Well I don't want that do I?  What might someone else suggest?)

2.  If you don't let your baby cry sometimes and learn to sleep on her own then she will never ever be able to sleep on her own, or for that matter be independent.  Ever.  

Okay, so one way my child will be sleeping between me and Papa until we die while freely trusting the world, and the other way she will move out at 14 and be fearful of the world- trusting no one.

That's the thing about all this information available.  It doesn't just give ideas as much as it tell you all the ways in which you can completely ruin your poor child.  It kind of cracks me up.  Working with children who have been pretty messed up- usually by a caregiver- I know how important a good loving parental relationship is.  But I also know these decisions aren't going to send her straight to therapy.  If I'm wrong I guess the proof is here.  And for that matter we could probably all go spend some time in therapy talking about our mothers.  

Anyway.  We moved her to the crib in our room so she could stretch out but still see us.  It took a few nights and we comforted her whenever she cried.  Everything was wonderful.  

Until she discovered she could stand.

This was literally two weeks later.  Everytime she would rouse (about every few hours) she would immediately go about practicing this new skill, and upon seeing that mom and dad were there but not paying attention- scream at the top of her lungs.  

So we moved backwards and put her in the bed.  This no longer worked either because she would still wake up and want to try her new skills, crawling, pawing at our faces.  And no one was sleeping well.

Finally we moved her to her crib, in her own room.  Papa and I talk about all of these decisions and both try to use as much logic as possible.  That side of my brain knew everyone would sleep better with this arrangement.  But I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me a little sad.  So I prepared myself for a huge battle while she was learning to self soothe.

**Disclaimer:  Research on childhood development indicates that children under a year are not able to manipulate behavior.  So crying = I need something.  Until this point we have answered every cry.  The standing in the crib cry was an I want something cry.  Plus she wasn't sleeping well.  So we decided to change the game plan.  That is how we made this decision. **

Up until now I loathed the idea of letting her "cry it out."  It sounded absolutely horrible and traumatic for both of us.  But I had noticed that when I rub her little back when she's going to bed that she'll look at me and cry longer than if she lifts her head up and doesn't immediately see me.  Nonetheless I savored my baby thrashing in the bed time for a few more days and mentally prepared for the weekend which we had set for the transition.

Night one.  I'm ready.  I have a beer ready.  I'm nervous.  We do her whole bedtime routine (bath, book, nursing, bed).  Lay her down.  Pat her a little and walk out.  Two minutes later that child is fast asleep and doesn't wake till morning.

Jeez.

I guess this whole rambling is just to suggest that perhaps you aren't going to ruin your child.  Perhaps each child has different needs.  Perhaps these decisions are not catastrophic.  

Anyway, we ended up using "The N.A.P.S. plan" book.  It's written by a woman who studies adult sleeping patterns and advocates following the child's natural sleep rhythm.  When it comes to sleeping alone she offers several methods and always says "you know your child better than anyone, it's up to you." -which I enjoy.  

We're all sleeping.  In the end it turns out my baby sleeps best in the dark, in her own crib (turning sideways as she pleases), in her own room.  And she trusts that when she cries Mommy comes right on in.

Cheers to sleepin, 

Mama

Sex after baby

Like most things in a healthy relationship sex has it's ebbs and flows.  Not necessarily bad to good, more like "mind-blowing" to "gratifying."  I would advise that if your relationship and closeness is based primarily on crazy intercourse- babies and marriage might not be for you.  I'm sure this is the rare bird out there who swears by sleeping with her husband every night.  But I would wonder about the quality.  And- if she has babies, how the hell she's pulling that off.

This is probably the question my girlfriends have asked more than any other post-baby.  

"How is sex after having a baby?"

I remember pretty clearly the first time I felt up to it again (a few weeks after Lo was born, which is different for everyone).  I was nervous.  It really was like losing my virginity all over again because you've had some pretty significant things happen down there.  It's a  little sensitive as you can imagine (or know).  Afterward I was very emotional (crazy hormonal changes with birth and milk coming in-- everything made me very emotional) and I remember laying there a little teary (the good kind of teary) and looked down to see that my breasts were squirting  everywhere.  Like fountains about six inches high.  And I looked at papa through my tears and said "why are there so many fluids?!?"  

Hilarious.  

Too much information?  Maybe.  But it's still hilarious.  Plus I figure if you know me, then you know what you're in for.  It's not like I called to tell you, you're choosing to read this.  And hell, it may just happen to you.  And then you probably will call me because you know I won't think you're crazy to talk about it. :)

So, how is it?  I think I  could answer the same for our relationship in general.  

We have learned to laugh at ourselves.  A lot.  We have learned to go with the flow.  We have great days.  We have amazing days.  And we have days that are just "fine."  We are closer than ever before, and sometimes we need to look at faces that are not each others for awhile.   

It's wonderful.  And the only changes have been good.

Mama 

first comes love, then comes...

When my grandma found out I was pregnant she asked my father to remind me "first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage." I was not married. Dun, dun, dun. We had been discussing marriage since we met. In fact, we had been discussing child rearing ideas since we met. We attended parenting classes together a year before I found out I was pregnant. But we hadn't gotten a marriage license and to many in my family this was a huge no-no. There wasn't consideration for the fact that we lived together, were committed to eachother, and ultimately committed to raising a child together. This cannot be said of many married couples. I am not one who believes marriage to be an outdated institution. But much like sex and intimacy are completely different things, so are commitment and marriage. We did get married. We hadn't planned to tell people we were married and wait until we had a big ceremony. We went ahead and got our marriage license for practical purposes, specifically the rights that come along with being married- before the baby came. But both of us surprised ourselves with how different it felt to be officially married and ended up telling the world because we were happy about it. I don't know when the big ceremony will happen. I do know it will probably resemble a bar be que more than a traditional church-reception gig.   In any case there is nothing like becoming pregnant out of wedlock to make you realize that the values system of the general population has not veered far from the 1950's.

This parenting business is difficult.  And wonderful.  But when we hit a bump in the road I don't often find myself looking to my marriage license to get us through though.  That's all I'm saying.

Love, babies and marriage if ya wanna, 

Mama

The (and improved) me

My how things have changed. It almost seems like person I was before I became a mother is someone people have told me stories about. There are lots of ideologies about that statement. The basic two being:

*I should be faithful to who I am and be sure to hold on to my identity outside of being a mother

*I should place my sole focus on my child and in every action be thinking of it's impact on her

Both have career and general mindset implications. For me, I walk the middle ground, making sure to have drinks with friends and take healthy breaks from my child to keep me sane. (One cannot do the same thing ALL the time). I also identify myself strongly, if not primarily, as a mother. I know this may not resonate well with some feminist ideologies (mine being if feminism is limiting it does not help women *sidenote* me = proud feminist) but I am a mother. Always.

One of the more profound differences in my everyday life is at work. I work in a child psych ward. I have worked in this field for years and always maintained both empathy for clients and professional boundaries. I never got too caught up in case histories or too personal. Now in every face is my child. And every child I see as "somebody's baby" which is a much different perspective than "client." I often find myself having to run to the bathroom and change out my breast pads after reading a chart because my body literally wants to nurse these ailing children. At work I am an educated professional, that is the role I play. But I am never not a mother.

I have often likened having a baby to having my whole world turned upside down and shaken out, discarding all of the unnecessary and leaving me with only the important things. Which took out a lot of things. A lot.

It's as if a whole profound shift in thinking, in being occurred as that tiny baby emerged. Instantly. And here I'd been searching in books, travel and conversation for an epiphany like that for years. I'd never want to go back. It's been a blessing.

Other things have changed that are not of any importance really. But they've changed. And I noticed. They are as follows:

My breasts used to be. I stopped there searching for the best word and discovered the sentence stood alone.
They are now filled and then nearly emptied of milk on a regular basis.
When I "got them out" before it meant something all together different from "dinnertime"
And they may never look the same.

As a non-skinny type chick my breasts and my booty have always been points of pride as far as my body goes. I'm reluctantly noticing and diligently fighting off the appearance of the dreaded flat "mom ass." I noticed recently that my pants are falling off me. This is due, in part, to an effort to lose some baby weight. It is also due to the gradual flattening of my booty. I am doing crazy butt exercises. This is a battle I refuse to lose.

I have lost all touch with pop culture. I used to at least know what was on the top 40 charts, if only to scoff at them and prefer carefully considered "old school" or random music. The same goes for clothing. I find myself staring at people when I'm out and about, wondering if what they are wearing is in fashion. I have no idea.

I cannot drink. Not really. Not like I used to.
And I used to be a light weight.

My stomach features light purple lines that look like I may have been attacked by some kind of animal. I realize this will not change my wardrobe as I wasn't wearing midriff revealing tops before I got pregnant, but it is, nonetheless, a change.

I have no idea what I was doing with all of the time I must have had on my hands before I had a baby.

I just polished off too much "wine with dinner" and it's time to retire.
More soon, Mama