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Posted 1 week ago
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The great Ferris Bueller once said, “life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” So where have I been? Obsessing over parenthood, in hopes I don’t miss a thing.
In the early beginnings of parenthood, your days bleed into nights so easily, that a month will pass you by in what feels like mere hours. As your child grows, life morphs into a routine that defines your days so perfectly, that instead of time slowing, it speeds it up. Morning coffee, a nap, an errand, a play date, lunch, nap, shower, reading, dinner, bed. The outline of your day can become to precise, that before you know it, it’s time to start your day all over again. It’s a beautiful, exhausting whirlwind of a life.
I no longer fight sleep so that I can find another moment to myself. I am learning that moments with my son that are spent more alert and engaged, are ten times more appealing that slow blinking through another day. Maybe that’s been another reason why I quit blogging, but it’s been much more rewarding for me- mentally and physically. But why I am here, then? Because there will always be the part of me that needs to write my heart out. Spill everything that is building up within. Sometimes I feel it’s the quickest way to truth- my keyboard, my quiet, my time.
The other truth is, I kind of gave up on blogging. I’ve written my heart out for four years and counting, and it wasn’t until I started thinking about taking writing up seriously, that I began to feel burdened. It’s the reason why I never took up art in college as my mother had suggested- because once I start feeling like it’s a must, it loses it’s appeal and stops being fun. This is simply, and will remain, my place to pour. It will be the virtual baby book/ diary of motherhood that I need it to be. So that is the end of that chapter.
Today is special. Today I watched my son walk for the first time. Before you get too excited, I mean I watched him walk with the aid of a walker. A tiny, adorable wooden toy that has the ability to support walking with out potentially causing injury. Last week I watched him stand alone for the first time, which was amazing in itself, and even though he’s been turning everything into a walker, something about today took my breath away. It might have been the fact that this toy was made for the job. That it had wheels which moved faster than an old box being pushed along the floor. Watching his feet move in front of the other, the smile on his face, the sound of all of it. It was magical.
The moments that feel like that, so magical, aren’t every single moment of my day, which is what makes them so wondeful. There are still days where I don’t feel like I did the best I could do as a parent. A failure, if I am feeling especially dramatic. Too much TV, not enough stimulation, not enough activity, too much activity, the lack of a bath, etc. There are moments where I just feel so tired. I’m still learning that it’s okay to feel exhausted; it’s what you do in those down moments that define you as a bad/good/great parent. I’ve learned that being a stay at home parent is more than what I ever thought it was. Demanding isn’t even the right word. I look back at days where all I had to do was roll out of bed, maybe pick up after myself, and have a single goal of looking appropriate, yet feeling so overwhelmed by the demands of regular life. Having laundry wait on you isn’t nearly as serious as having a human child stare at you in a way that is asking “what’s next?,” and I miss it at times. I miss the freedom of actually needing an alarm clock. The feeling of having a weekend. Cooking a meal with out juggling several things, including that beautiful human baby, all at once. It’s a balancing act, it’s love, it’s energy. It’s something I never understood before, but completely understand now. And you single mothers? Where is your crown?
A humbling, completely raw moment hit me last week as I went to get water during a lunch date with a friend. As I filled my glass, I listened to an old man ask a young woman who took care of her baby while she nannied. I turned around and saw a woman my age, holding a darling baby girl who was maybe 3 months old, and tell the man “my Mom.” I instantly felt selfish for feeling overwhelmed. It’s a blessing. He is mine. He is being raised by me, and I am blessed to be able to live a life where that it possible. While it’s fine to feel tired, it’s essential to remain grateful for the opportunity alone.
So today, when I watched him walk around the house, so delighted in his own power, I cried. This doesn’t mean too much, as I cried earlier in the day during naptime, as I watched an episode of Maury, and sobbed my way through a paternity test reveal. Yeah that happened. I’m on my period, and I am selfishly relishing in all of my crazy emotions, as well as chocolate. Heaps and heaps of chocolate. But my baby put one foot in front of another today. He smiled and waved at strangers. He fed himself breakfast, lunch and dinner, and best of all, he laughed.
Even with those moments of exhaustion, the anxiety of feeling like you’re failing in some way, and the humbling that can come from eavesdropping, come joy in developmental milestones. And of course, with that joy comes the fear of time, and how ridiculously quick it seems to flow. It always comes full circle, I suppose.
Absorb it all.
Absorb it all.
Xo
Ty
Beach Baby
Posted 1 week ago
10 notes
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Posted 2 weeks ago
24 notes
[Flash 10 is required to watch video]
Win on Madonna. He has A LOT to say.
You know what we have done today?
Nothing.
Well, not really nothing, but that to-do list is still sitting on my table, waiting to be looked over, checked off (er, and now added to), is simply untouched.
I tried folding clothes, but it’s difficult when your curious baby finds neatly folded clothes interesting to dig through. After folding and refolding a few times, I gave up on the laundry portion of my afternoon, and after a mid-nap wake up, I realized nothing that I had planned for my day was going to go the way I had imagined.
Since Win isn’t feeling well, I took him to the couch to lay with me. Normally, he squirms, cries, or does a death dive off of me to get away, but today- Oh, today.
Instead of struggling to move away from me, he stayed on my chest for 30 minutes. 30 minutes of complete motherhood bliss, which may not sound like much to you, but to me, is everything. Every now and then, he would crane his neck back to look at me, giving me a sweet smile, and then turn back away. He was rhythmically moving his feet against my legs, while keeping one arm wrapped tightly around mine. With every tiny move I made, he would respond by grasping that arm even tighter. He was clinging to me, not understanding that I wouldn’t dare break up a snuggle session so soon.
After 30 minutes passed, he was once again ready to go, so we played more fold/unfold, and then he ate while I boredom baked. After I finished my cookie batter, I realized Win was covered in avocado. We played in the bath, and now, he is finally asleep in his crib.
Now I can do everything I need to. Now I can attack that to-do list, and maybe find time for a little mid-day yoga. I caught myself saying “Ian is going to kill me when he gets home,” but I’m starting to realize that days like today are the memories of tomorrow. Will I remember that day I made sure everything was perfectly clean? Will I remember how I cleaned the sink meticulously after doing all the dishes? Will I remember the shiny floors?
Or will I remember the baby who just wanted to hang out on his Mom? The one who wanted to paint himself in avocado? The little boy who wanted to splash in the bath?
I think my day was just right.
XO
Posted 1 month ago
Notes
In one of the early episodes of Up All Night, Will Arnett says something to Christina Applegate about how the last time she updated her Facebook status, she was on her way to the hospital to give birth. This is a ha-ha moment, because their baby is, like, older.
Anyways. This is my delayed Facebook status. We are home, we are well. Well, besides little monkey chunk man who happens to have a cough and what sounds like a sore throat. But, we are home. That is all that matters.
So much to talk about- Christmas, New Years, TRAVELING, …cleansing (please excuse my broken out face, as toxins are fleeing from my body in every way, shape, form)! Now, all I need to do is write….
Later.
;)
Posted 1 month ago
6 notes
I’m still alive!
The trip is going wonderfully, but unfortunately, since Win’s routine has been so messed up, he hasn’t been sleeping. After fighting it for a couple weeks, I changed my flight from the 18th to the 11th. Looking forward to writing a nice, long Christmas/New Year/Travel post once home.
In the meantime, I’ll continue to be quiet on the blog front, soaking up everything Nashville has to offer me: family, friends and good food.
What a bittersweet thing it is to leave one home for another.
Xo!
Posted 1 month ago
7 notes
So, my last airplane post, I said Win had taken four previous flights. Incorrect. That was his fifth.
And today was his SIXTH! Which we celebrated by sleeping the entire flight.
Loving this traveling thing.
Hello, Nashville!
Xo
Posted 2 months ago
9 notes
Poop Routines and Nose Bleeds
If you told me two years ago that I would one day be writing a blog about how my son’s poop routine is totally wonky, I would have laughed, been confused, poured another glass of wine, and changed my Pandora station from Bloc Party to Arcade Fire, while exiting out of an open Urban Outfitters tab.
Bottom line: life changes very quickly and is incredibly surprising.
So last night, as I laid Win down into the pack-n-play, I went through a mental check list in my head:
Bottle (check)
Clean diaper (check)
Butt creme (check)
Blanket (check- important, as I forgot to cover him the night prior, which made for a very cold, cranky 5 am wake up, prompting me to feel like worst parent of the year, and pulling him into my own bed- but that is another story.)
I was ready for a full nights sleep, and fell asleep after reading through a few blogs. When Win woke up crying at 4-something, I sleepily pulled myself out of bed, and went to his make shift crib to comfort. Imagine my surprise when I was greeted with the wretched smell of dirty diaper. Mmmlovely. Then, imagine picking up that cute, tired, smelly baby, only to realize, they have peed through their diaper, soaking their pajamas. Wonderful! I’d be crying too, kid.
Any parent can tell you that once your baby starts sleeping through the night, middle of the night wake ups lose the cool newborn period sleep immunity, and will have you in full-on Zombie mode. You make a bottle with half open eyes, trying your best to just get through it with out waking completely up, otherwise, you face being wide awake for hours yourself. There is also the other danger of taking too long, causing the baby to become wide awake. You move quickly and quietly, praying your pillow won’t be far from your head for too long. As you can imagine, night poops/bedwetting are the worst.
I woke Ian up for team duty. He would make the bottle and retrieve the wipes from downstairs, while I would disrobe the child, and calm him down.
I found a blanket to lay him on top of as I took off the pee soaked pants, noticing his eyes becoming more alert. Danger sign number one that he is starting to wake. I somehow managed to sift through our luggage in the darkness to find his last pair of pajama pants. Score: Win-3, Mom-1.
When Ian returned, he turned on a distant light to aid in the diaper clean up. As I began to change him, I realized I needed more light, which would become danger number 2 for Win waking up. Turning on any light during a wake up is like holding up a big green “GO” sign for babies. While changing the diaper from Doody Hell, I apparently managed to get poop all up my long sleeved shirt. With Ian standing there, I managed to take off my shirt, change a diaper, and find a replacement top all at the same time.
How is that for multitasking?!
Once all was said and done, I realized we were both now residing in Dangerland. I was awake, he was awake, and we were both totally cool with staring into each others eyes. Breaking our “NO COSLEEPING” rule for the third time this trip, I pulled him into bed with me, and held him tight. We stayed awake for thirty minutes before he got restless.
In this restlessness, he somehow managed to hook his pinky finger in my nose, and rip out a chunk of flesh with nails I have been meaning to cut for weeks now (of course, the jokes on me). I couldn’t tell if it was bleeding initially, but moments later I felt a sting, and came back from investigating with blood soaked fingers. Obviously. In the crib he momentarily went, as I stuffed Kleenex up my left nostril.
To think, this entire set of chain reactions could have been spared, had he of not pooped off schedule is another silly part of parenthood that leaves me laughing and shaking my head. Sadly, shit happens, and I’m not so sure how much I can do to change this (pun totally intended).
I guess I could say parenting is bittersweet, but it’s more than that. Even a dirty diaper, a pee soaked set of PJs, poop on my arms, a bleeding nose, and a baby ready to play can’t stop me from smiling at 4:30 am, looking into moonlit blue eyes, and whispering “I love you.”
Win: 432 Mom: -5 (and I wouldn’t have it any other way).
Xo
Posted 2 months ago
5 notes
