Everything I thought I knew

It dawned on me today that throughout our whole lives we are learning, growing into and striving to be this idea that we have of ourselves. This idea of ourselves is formed through experiences, thoughts, feelings, family ties, school, society. etc.. Then, in an instant that idea of ourselves and our reality can suddenly change and we have no choice but to adapt to a completely new reality. I think for some people having children, getting married, reaching their career goals, etc..is a life long goal. For others, finding their soul mate, having children, finding a career they are passionate about is unplanned. For both groups however, the actual attainment of these life changes, and the realities these changes embrace, can come as a complete surprise and therefore present one with an entirely different concept of themselves then they ever imagined.

I, for one, am a case study of an individual that never thought (or even desired) to get married or have children. While dating, my husband and I originally discussed marriage as a means to ensure that I would be covered by his health benefits (terribly romantic I know). Once we were engaged, I certainly never thought that children would come into the picture anytime soon (if ever). But lo and behold. fate had other ideas and, three months prior to our wedding date, I was pregnant..

...The journey of motherhood has been, thus far, an exhausting, exhilarating, terrifying and beyond words joyful experience for me. There is no feeling that can compare to that of holding my son close, watching him learn to walk, try to run, begin to form words, and just being given the great gift of being his mother. However, with all of the life enhancing ups and downs of motherhood, there has been an almost complete departure from the person I thought I was before I had my son. Gone are the days of endless nights spent with friends and lazy weekends spent sleeping in, dining out, and generally doing as I pleased. My career path that saw me frequently working 50 hours a week and volunteering myself for night and weekend shifts has been traded in for a new career path where I will not take any job that has me away from the house for more than 25 hours a week. My grand plan to put my son in childcare and return to full time work a month after his birth has given way to my husband, my father and I splitting up shifts so that my son (now 16 months) is always in the care of a family member that loves him. My house, once spotless and decorated in a simple, elegant way, is now strewn with brightly colored, noise making toys. Dining out with my husband at nice restaurants a few times a week has been replaced by home meals and quick outings to any family restaurant that will supply crayons and a coloring book and doesn't mind the occasional flinging of food or ice cubes. My bookshelf, once filled with poetry and small business books, has been taken over by Dr. Seuss and Curious George. Even my bathtub has been taken over with bath toys, baby washcloths and baby shampoo.

There is not one corner of my house, my heart or my life that is strictly mine anymore. Giovanni has moved in, set up camp and taken up permanent residence. My definition of myself, my new self, is evolving daily and, although I had 30 years of evolving into the self I thought I was, I don't miss that former me at all. In fact, I can barely even remember the person I thought I was. While this new self is nowhere near where I thought I would be at this point in my life, I know for certain that there is nowhere else I would rather be.

The Best Part Of My Day

I have been reading some other mom blogs and wondering where these moms find the time to write so much (and to make their content so witty at that). I dream about someday having a full time nanny (or perhaps a lunch break) and being able to spend at least an hour or two a day writing new blogs, getting sponsors, following blogs, commenting on blogs and becoming a blog master within a big, blogging universe. Sigh. But, until then, I will continue to grab my daily (or sometimes weekly) 20 minutes here and there of blogging time that I am able to squeeze in between the gym and making dinner.

Well, since this is officially some of that time, let me get started :)

My son has started a new ritual with me that I adore. We stopped letting him take his late afternoon nap and he now just takes one, early afternoon nap a day. We found that this helps him go to bed early and sleep through the night. It used to be that I would rock him with a small lamp on before bed. He would sit facing the room and it was always a struggle to keep him on my lap as he would wiggle and try to get free. You know, to go do more entertaining things like banging on the wall, rolling around the room, holding his bottle upside down and shaking milk on the carpet, those kinds of things. Well, one night, about two weeks ago. I decided to rock him without the lamp on. As we sat in the pitch black room, he started wiggling and I picked him up to place him on the floor but instead he turned and placed his head on my shoulder where he soon feel into a deep sleep while I rubbed his back. Since then, this has been the ritual every night.

I must say that putting him to bed, although I always found it enjoyable, is now, hands down, my absolute favorite part of my day. Some nights, while laying his head against my shoulder, he simultaneously curls his fingers in my hair or moves his hand in a patting motion on my shoulder. Other nights, he falls asleep quickly and I sit and delight at his soft sighs and snores. Every night, I sit there, long after he has fallen asleep, just rocking him, rubbing is back, feeling the essence of him, which is all laughter and love and innocence and savoring the moment. I know that these days will go fast, too fast (they already are racing by) and I am pretty certain that, no matter how persuasive I may be, there will be no way that he will allow me to sit and rock him to sleep in my arms once he is a teenager or young adult.

So, for now, and for as long as he will let me, I will take all the time that I can to cuddle him, snuggle him and rock him to sleep in my arms. That way, even though these moments will not last forever, the memories of them certainly will.

Sweet Dreams My Son

-New Mommy In Town

Tis the Season to be Thankful...Fa la la la la...

“I met in the street a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat worn, his cloak was out at the elbows, the water passed through his shoes, - and the stars through his soul.” -Victor Hugo

"To see the world in a grain of sand, and to see heaven in a wild flower, hold infinity in the palm of your hands, and eternity in an hour" -William Blake

I get updates of news headlines on my phone each morning and I can't help but notice a sad trend. All of the updates are shocking, sad, dismal or downright depressing. The economy is crashing, those in power are secretive and corrupt, babies having babies, epidemics, sickness…the list goes on and on. As I sat in my son's room and rocked him to sleep the other night, feeling his soft breath against my neck as he nuzzled in close, and feeling the usual warm, rush of love and thankfulness that fills me when I am sharing quality time with him, I wondered why there are no headlines that glaringly announce to us the good things in life. Personally, I would much rather receive updates notifying me that yet another person pitched in to help paint a school, helped an elderly person across the street or donated a kidney to a family member in need rather than hear only about the negative.

Well, as the holiday season approaches (and in the spirit of being the change I wish to see in the world) I want to take a few moments to recognize some of the heroic people and magnificent things in my life that I am grateful for. These people and things may not ever get to share top billing with a shocking story on the front page of a newspaper, but they are groundbreaking, life changing parts of my existence and just as momentous to me as any news story may be to the rest of the world. If I have little in the way of material possessions and yet am so blessed and my life so enriched, then I know that there must be many like me, who, though they might never have their story shared with the world, will leave the world a better place than they found it just by being here and being happy and kind. So, this holiday season, here are is a short list that highlights a few of the many things I am grateful for:

I am grateful that my father lives close to me and that we are able to create many wonderful memories and share much laughter together. I am grateful that my 93 year old grandfather is alive and well. I am grateful that my extended family consisting of my mother, aunts, uncles, grandmother, and numerous cousins are healthy, happy and thriving on their respective life paths I am grateful that my family members and friends that are having a hard time have a wealth of family and love surrounding them to help them through. I am eternally grateful for the love and dedication of many close friends that, regardless of years and miles have held me close to their hearts and held me up in their prayers to help light my way when I feel lost and to share in my most joyful of times. I am grateful for the love of my husband who knows me through and through, accepts my faults, celebrates my accomplishments and grieves my losses as I do his. I am grateful for a roof over my head and a heater that works well in the Winter, two able hands that can work and two functioning legs that can take me there. I am grateful for a stable (mostly clear headed) mind that lets me look beyond whatever trials are occurring momentarily and allows me to focus on what is possible for the future. I am beyond grateful for the gift of my son who is happy, healthy and thriving and who makes every day feel like a day for celebration.

Making this list just confirms to me that all the little daily things that I may sometimes take for granted are the things that, when looked at collectively, are truly what life is made up of, and that without, I would not be who I am and would certainly not have the richness of spirit and quality of life that I have enjoyed thus far. And for me, that is headline news any day :)


Gratefully Yours,

-New Mommy in Town

To Santa or Not to Santa...That is the question!

A couple days ago we took our 1 year old son to the mall to see Santa. this being our first Santa outing (well, since my husband and I were young of course) we were not sure what to expect, and, to make things even more exciting, we went to see Santa wholly unprepared for any sort of emergency such as desperate snack needs, the re-emergence of a horrible diaper rash or preparation for the realities of waiting in an hour and a half long line while wearing 3 inch heels. The night started out on a hopeful note. I straightened my hair, put on a nice dress, did my makeup, put on a nice pair of earrings and even brought along a festive Santa hat to wear in, what I imagined would be, our perfect family photo with Santa. I dressed our son up in a cute little pin stripe suit with a crisp white shirt underneath, packed the diaper bag and "walla" we were ready to go. Once we got in the car, it dawned on me that maybe things would not go quite as smoothly as planned. In our rush to get to the mall before the crowds, I realized that we had not packed any snacks and Giovanni had not eaten in a couple hours. "Oh well, I thought, just a quick trip in, snap of the camera and we're out of there. How hungry could he possibly get between now and then?" Next, my husband informed me that we did not have a camera to actually take a picture but assured me that everything was OK and that he had his phone on him and we could take a picture with that. When we arrived at the mall, even though we had gotten there "early", there was a long line that consisted mainly of grumpy, underdressed patrons with several dogs barking at one another and pulling at their leashes while their weary owners cast sympathetic looks at each other. My husband, who hates crowds, began to get fidgety, Giovanni quickly followed suit. I offered to stand in line while they played on the playground. As they walked away I wished that I had not worn heels, or a dress, I wished that I had worn sweats. Still, I stood in line with the stroller, a huge umbrella (this being Portland, it was of course, pouring) three jackets (mine, my husbands and the baby's), my purse and the diaper bag. As I made my way through the line I maneuvered carefully to keep from toppling the stroller, spilling the contents of my purse, or impaling any small children with our dangerously large and pointy umbrella. When I got near the front of the line, I texted my husband and he arrived back just in the nick of time (no pun intended). Giovanni's suit was wrinkled, his shirt hanging untucked out of his pants and his hair was a mess. He also seemed more than ready to leave the mall. My husband took a test snapshot with his phone to find out the camera on his phone was not working. He began to shake and turn a little red. I offered to let the people behind us in line go ahead of us so that we could figure out the phone. I tucked G's shirt in, we got the phone working, OK...our turn...here we go. We walked up to Santa, he held his arms out to the baby, sat him on his lap and then...Giovanni lost his mind. The second he sat on Santa's lap, Giovanni's face turned bright red and he began squirming and screaming at the top of his lungs, tears rolling down his face. My husband snapped a picture (see sidebar) G kept screaming. I put on my Santa hat and stood next to him, G looked at me and screamed louder. My husband took another picture, I grabbed the baby and we left. Now, at this point, any sane parent would have quickly exited the mall but me, being the fearless (or perhaps clueless) individual that I am, decided that we should take one more family picture in front of a large tree before we left. Johnny tried to take one of me and Giovanni first. I put on my Santa hat and stood in front of the tree with our son. Giovanni arched his back and screamed like I had tried to rip off one of his toes. People were looking at us strangely. My husband suggested we grab something to eat and then try the picture thing again. We headed over to the food court and got G some grilled chicken and milk with a straw. In trying to feed him the chicken and use the straw to pour sips of milk into his mouth, we got milk and chicken juice all over his face, his suit, ourselves. Immediately after his hearty dinner of chicken and milk, G needed a diaper change and I took him onto the cramped, fluorescent lit changing room to find that an earlier diaper rash had re-emerged. He howled as I changed him, I bumped into the door, the table and most of all, I felt sweaty and like I might begin howling and crying myself. When I brought him out I can't even imagine what the two of us must have looked like, he with his tired, bleary eyes, stained, wrinkled suit and sad expression and me, red from sweating, hair beginning to frizz and limping in my high heels that had never been meant for standing for extended periods of time. I limped over to my husband and suggested we leave (after, of course, trying to get one final shot in front of the tree-Don't even ask me what I was thinking). We went over the to the tree and I snapped the final shot pictured above which I feel sums up the feel of the evening fairly well. So, the moral of the story is this. If you feel that perhaps your very young child might be frightened or daunted by the prospect of waiting in a large line only to be met at the end by the sight of a large, strange man in a big red suit with a huge beard then, by all means, proceed at your own risk. Hey, its not all bad, your child could love Santa or, you could get hilarious pictures of your child looking either happy, nervous, bewildered, or of them screaming their head off while Santa struggles to maintain a smile. But please, whatever you do, if this article has taught you anything, be sure to bring an actual camera, dress comfortably, be prepared for a long line and surly patrons and, for the love of all things holiday...BRING SOME SNACKS!!! To all a Good Night! -New Mommy in Town

A Blast from the Past...But Can it Last??

I met my first love when I was 14 years old. I was crazy about him from the minute I met him. Over the next five years...through high school and a little bit into college, our love would grow into something more serious than i believe most young kids experience. For one thing, I went to a continuation school the last year of high school. and my father, being especially lax about such things (or maybe just not having a clue as to how to handle such a free spirited, strong willed firecracker of a daughter) let me make the hour long train ride into Berkeley (where my sweetheart lived) approximately once a week. Once there I would stay for a few days at a time (until I had to return back to school) and my love and I would spend endless hours which turned into endless days listening to music, watching movies, hiking around the Berkeley hills, eating, giggling, exploring the city, passionately arguing and passionately making up. Being the strangely enlightened teenagers we were (he much much more than I) we saw a counselor a couple times a month for couples counseling, faithfully used birth control and visited the University campus and botanical gardens frequently for sightseeing and make out sessions. I had never known anyone like Jon. His parents were two very intelligent university professors and Jon was a well traveled vegan that spoke more than one language, listened to progressive music, meditated and was an amazing artist. In addition, he was sweet, kind, gentle, funny and I was head over heels in love with him. After high school, Jon went to Europe for 6 months and things began to fall apart. He met someone for a short time and I began meeting other people too. When he came back to the states he moved to Santa Cruz and I followed. He was enrolled in University of Santa Cruz and I was enrolled at a community college. We kept our relationship going for a time, but by then our feelings were muddled by so much time apart and confusion as to where we stood. After a year or two I met someone that would be a long term relationship (4 years) for me. I called Jon over to my house and ended things between us for good. he cried, I cried. we listened to Lauryn Hiill's "Keep It Tight" while he held me close and I breathed in his scent, thought about all our memories together and wondered if I was making a mistake. At the time, it seemed this was the right thing to do, and in hindsight, although the relationship I moved onto didn't last, and didn't end well either, I wonder if Jon and I would have fared better if we had stayed together, or if we would have ended up resenting each other or hurting each other by not sharing the same feelings or by meeting other people and moving onto other serious relationships eventually. Either way, it was the end of an era for sure.

Today, I am married and I have a beautiful son. Although it is not always sweet words and tender feelings and there are, to be honest, some things about my husband I downright do not like, there is much love and a long history between us. Plus, the addition of family, children and going through real life hurdles together, does make you stronger and add to your feelings of devotion for your spouse.

This being said, I was going through an old box of stuff today and came across a small stack of letters that Jon had written to me while he was in Europe. Reading through them brought back a lot of nostalgia. In his letters, his love and devotion to me are clear and his words are full of the strong, hormone fueled feelings that only teenage love can produce. He speaks of us being soulmates and therefore loving each other enough to feel that we are connected at the soul. He talks about me being amazing, strong, and in some ways, fragile. He speaks of our love being intense, potent and the best feeling in the world. Reading through these letters made me feel good that someone had held such intensely wonderful feelings for me but it also made me sad that real life does at some point have to intervene. I got to thinking, why is it that feelings that intense can't be maintained for a lifetime? I mean, I believe that, to some extent they can. When my husband is not around me for a length of time, I miss him terribly, but at the same time, I have responsibilities and bills to pay and distractions and I cannot just lay in bed and mope all day thinking about how much I miss him. I asked my dad if he thought that the feelings of first teenage love can last and he replied, "I don't think so, I mean, people that have been together 60 years, you don't see them just sitting in each others laps and kissing and staring at each other all the time, the guy is usually just sitting on the couch watching TV and the woman is doing whatever she is doing."

I think I realized right then why a first love is so special and why it is rare, maybe even downright impossible, to ever capture that exact feeling again. When you are young and unencumbered, the only thing you have to focus on in the whole world is each other. You don't have bills to pay or a mortgage to worry about or kids diapers to change or teenagers eating everything in the whole house or an old cat pooping on the floor...again. The only scheduled time that is required is school time or time to see each other. When you are fighting it is because he looked at another girl too long, not because you overspent on your credit cards and don't know if you can pay your rent. So here is what I realized. No, love may never produce those same feelings without a boatload of hormones running through you, but maybe it can be even better (and much more real than that). Maybe the feeling you get when you look back on your life and you have a gaggle of well rounded children and grandchildren, extended family, friends, neighbors and acquaintances that care equally about the well being of both you and your spouse and you have built a whole LIFE together with hard work and have worked equally hard at keeping your love alive, maybe THOSE are the ties that truly bind you together in a love built of not only passion but mutual respect, admiration and devotion to one another. And hey, that sounds pretty damn life altering, amazing, potent, and intense to me.

I am so glad to have known Jon and I will never forget our experiences together. We are friends to this day and I have nothing but love in my heart for him, for what and who he was, what we had, what and who he is and who he will become. He is amazingly talented and a beautiful person. Our experiences taught me so much and were invaluable at helping to shape me into the person I am today. We don't talk as often as I would like but I hope, more than anything that he is happy and that I made as big of an impact on his life as he made on mine. I hope that one day, I can dance at his wedding, meet his children and, when we are old, that maybe we will one day find ourselves sitting in rockers with our respective loves and family and can look back at our lives, look at each other and agree...that we sure did good :)

Much love to you and all whom you love, have loved and will love!

-New Mommy in Town

Misty, Water Colored Memories...

The days are going by so quickly and my little boy is growing up before my eyes. I am trying to capture every moment I have to sing to him, sit with him, rock him, play with him or just plain be with him. There are so many precious, picture perfect memories of him already that I carry with me throughout my day. The feel of his soft skin against mine as I take him out of the bathtub and wrap him in a big, soft, fuzzy towel. The mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he smiles up at me in the morning. The way he arches his back and turns to look up at me with his soulful, trusting eyes when I am rocking him. At his 4 month checkup a couple weeks ago, they announced that my boy is now 15 lbs and 23 inches long. This just drove home to me how fast he is growing and that soon, he will be a rough and tumble toddler and then a little boy and soon a man. I am amazed every day at the life that we have created and at how insanely lucky I am to be a part of witnessing and directing that life. I am also amazed at my capacity to love and how much better of a person being a mother has made me. My heart has been stretched to new limits and no matter how tired or frustrated or plain worn out I am, when I hold my child or I see his beautiful smile, I can't help but feel myself begin to smile and my heart begin to melt.

Our boy is beginning to play with his toys (and by "playing" I mean grabbing them and stuffing them into his mouth). He is beginning to roll over, laugh, stick his fingers, bib, blanket, in his mouth, "talk" to us by emitting long, low pitched groans, hiccups and coughs. He smiles all the time, loves to play and is the center of his mommy and daddy's universe. We are starting him on Rice cereal this week and soon he will be eating solids. He is beginning to be able to sit up on his own and he holds his head up perfectly. Last week we went to JC Penney and had portraits done of Giovanni and his stepbrother Anthony who was here visiting for a week. It did this mommy's heart good to see my "boys" playing, laughing and loving each other. Giovanni LOVED his half brother (Anthony lives in Southern California and had not yet met Giovanni) and was smiling anytime he was near, Anthony was gentle and loving with the baby and was a HUGE help to me during his visit.

Coming up in April Giovanni and I will be going on his first plane ride to California to visit his Great grandma, great grandpa, cousins, aunties, uncles and Grandma Cynthie. We are creating memories that I will remember forever and I am so grateful for this time. While I do wish once in a while that I could slow time and keep him small and snuggly for a bit longer, I am glad that I am taking the time to enjoy all that is happening and I am breathlessly awaiting the next milestone discovery or achievement in his life.

With wonder and awe I watch my little one grow! Nothing can compare to being Giovanni's Mommy! :)

-New Mommy in Town

TIRED

Last night was one of those nights :(

The baby went to bed at 7:30pm (it was either let him sleep or let him scream in my ear until 9, I chose to let him sleep)

I went to bed at 11 (so tired but couldn't sleep)

The baby woke up at 2am, by then he had slept 6 and a half hours (hooray for him)

Fed the baby, put the baby back to bed, I went back to bed (couldn't fall asleep until 4, maybe I'm an insomniac)

The baby woke up at 5 (I almost cried)

I comforted the baby and went back to bed

the baby went back to sleep until 6

I got up with the baby

The baby stayed awake until I went to work at 8

I came home at 4, the baby was crying. Took him upstairs to comfort him, he threw up on me twice. went to give him a bath, he peed on me on the way to the tub. sat down and fed him, he started fussing, swaddled him, he fussed. Laid him down, he began losing it. rocked him, sang to him, swayed him, whispered to him, he cried and cried. Put him in his swinging chair. Silence. for five minutes. He dirtied his diaper and began crying again. So so tired.

And the funniest part is that I have gone weeks like this and I have not given up, or passed out, or had to check myself into some sort of psychiatric facility for exhaustion. Impressive.

Have I ever been this tired? Dead tired? Sooooooooo soooooooo tired? I mean really tired?

Oh my.

One of those days that makes me realize, that I am so much stronger than I ever realized.

-New "tired" Mommy in Town




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