My brain and my heart are TNT wrestlers right now to see who will win the argument over whether to work or stay home (and how long). They are TNT wrestlers and not Olympic wrestlers, because they are not displaying much logic or self-respect. No, they are running around in neon tights waving metal chairs and 80's hair. Why? Well, I think every mother wrestles with this choice and is banted around the ring with her irrational emotions. I could blame it on the hormones (thanks, they are fun), but I think it's mostly about fear. Fear that if I don't work that I'll be handicapping my long-term financial and career future. What if I have to support myself or our family later in life? How will I be able to market myself back into a good paying job (that I just gave up)? One of my strongest fears is that my brain and intellect will slowly dissolve into a pool resembling the Cartoon Network logo...What if my contribution to conversations includes the latest news as reported on the Today show and what's on sale at Target? I think I'd rather be forced to wear neon pink and green stretchy pants and wrestle a tiny band of midgets. Wait...is that a sign from the universe that I want more children?
I am learning that when I am going crazy on the inside, that what I really need is to be still and listen deeply. I am currently reading Living Buddha, Living Christ, by Thich Nhat Hahn. Most of us know that Buddhism encourages the practice of listening deeply through meditation, but Christ also practiced listening deeply when he was in the Garden of Gethsemane. Modern moms are pulled in all directions, physically caring for their children, spouses/partners, families, friends and sometimes themselves; how easily our emotions follow this back and forth on the ropes of life. It is a great challenge to stop the running and be still. But, when I am still and my self goes quiet and all my worries melt away, all I see is the happiness that surrounds my son and my life. And I know that I am meant to be with him right now and nowhere else.
Maybe this means I am growing...I have had a lot of experience with growing of late thanks to my 40 pound pregnancy. But, perhaps I am expanding in more ways than my waistline or jean size. Like Jack Black said in Nacho Libre, "Sometimes, when you are a (hu)man, you wear stretchy pants." I doubt that my body will ever shrink back to its original size and shape, but my heart won't either. And, I am okay with that.
As an aside, I concur that it is a sad social commentary on myself and society that I am quoting a Jack Black movie for moral guidance. But, hey, he is a monk in the movie....
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Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
Circadian Rhythms
According to Merriam Webster online, circadian is defined as:
Main Entry: cir·ca·di·an
Pronunciation: \sər-ˈkā-dē-ən\
Function: adjective
Etymology: Latin circa about + dies day + English 2-an — more at deity
Date: 1959
: being, having, characterized by, or occurring in approximately 24-hour periods or cycles (as of biological activity or function)
In other words, this is one of the main reasons for Meltdown #5 (but who's counting). My little man is 8 weeks old today. I celebrate having realized that the entire month of March has passed in a complete and utter sleep deprived haze. And, I can't say that the month of April was any less foggy. I love being a mom, but this aspect of parenthood is driving me bananas.
Meltdown #5 started like this: Three consecutive days of 3 hour feeding with no naps for momma. I made it through Monday fine; Tuesday, a little worn; but Wednesday, OH MY. It was like an avalanche on a gently sloped mountain - a prolonged catastrophe. The meltdown started Wednesday night when I was banished downstairs with the crying baby by the tired husband. Scorned, full of resentment and groggy, I dedicated what remaining functioning brain cells I had left to discern whether I should let my baby sleep in his swing or try and acclamate him to his crib. I tried to do both. The swing won. When reinforcements came in around the 7am shift, I was too depleted to grab onto the lifeboat - they offered to take the baby to breakfast! Of course, the baby woke up right after they left and stayed up for 5 hours, demanding full attention. At the end, I was broken, crying in the bathtub while trying to shave my gorrilla legs, all the while as the baby cried on my bed. Not only was I sleep deprived and shedding in a tepid pool of water, but I was also drowning in momma guilt for letting my baby cry for a few minutes.
The meltdown was tempered with another wave of reinforcements, a babysitter so that I could pass out for about two hours and a concerned husband who ran home to fix me lunch. Where am I now? WIDE AWAKE at 2am writing this post, waiting on my little guy to wake up. Where is he? Still asleep after three hours (30 minutes in the swing, 2.5 hours in the crib and counting). Sometimes you can have your cake and eat it too...but, boy, does it hurt.
Main Entry: cir·ca·di·an
Pronunciation: \sər-ˈkā-dē-ən\
Function: adjective
Etymology: Latin circa about + dies day + English 2-an — more at deity
Date: 1959
: being, having, characterized by, or occurring in approximately 24-hour periods or cycles (as of biological activity or function)
In other words, this is one of the main reasons for Meltdown #5 (but who's counting). My little man is 8 weeks old today. I celebrate having realized that the entire month of March has passed in a complete and utter sleep deprived haze. And, I can't say that the month of April was any less foggy. I love being a mom, but this aspect of parenthood is driving me bananas.
Meltdown #5 started like this: Three consecutive days of 3 hour feeding with no naps for momma. I made it through Monday fine; Tuesday, a little worn; but Wednesday, OH MY. It was like an avalanche on a gently sloped mountain - a prolonged catastrophe. The meltdown started Wednesday night when I was banished downstairs with the crying baby by the tired husband. Scorned, full of resentment and groggy, I dedicated what remaining functioning brain cells I had left to discern whether I should let my baby sleep in his swing or try and acclamate him to his crib. I tried to do both. The swing won. When reinforcements came in around the 7am shift, I was too depleted to grab onto the lifeboat - they offered to take the baby to breakfast! Of course, the baby woke up right after they left and stayed up for 5 hours, demanding full attention. At the end, I was broken, crying in the bathtub while trying to shave my gorrilla legs, all the while as the baby cried on my bed. Not only was I sleep deprived and shedding in a tepid pool of water, but I was also drowning in momma guilt for letting my baby cry for a few minutes.
The meltdown was tempered with another wave of reinforcements, a babysitter so that I could pass out for about two hours and a concerned husband who ran home to fix me lunch. Where am I now? WIDE AWAKE at 2am writing this post, waiting on my little guy to wake up. Where is he? Still asleep after three hours (30 minutes in the swing, 2.5 hours in the crib and counting). Sometimes you can have your cake and eat it too...but, boy, does it hurt.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Our own Sunrise Service
I think my son is going to be very religious. For Easter, he held his own sunrise service in our hotel room in Jackson, Tenn. Not only did he keep me up all night so that I could see the sun rise, but he also limited my sleep to 1.5 hours. Truth be told, I did a lot of praying that night. In case you are wondering, 1.5 hours is his PR (Personal Record) for least amount of sleep.
(For those non-athletes, PR is commonly used in track & field, for when you beat your best times. For example, my PR in the 400M is 60.06. Not bad for a short, white girl.
Easter was very special for my family, not only because of our new son, but also because my sister has just returned safely from her military deployment in Iraq. She was deployed through my entire pregnancy and this is the first time to meet JT. They have been quickly making up for lost time. She has her own "baby voice" to talk to JT. She prefers a British nanny accent. JT seems to like it.
Speaking of PRs, JT has been setting many of his own lately. He had his biggest poop ever about a week ago. He also vomited about a half of a foot straight down my chest. While I was gagging from the smell and laughing from the experience, I couldn't help but also beam with pride over his aim. He has also outgrown his first clothes. He blasted out of the newborn outfits like a green Hulk Hogan.
We are quickly geeting used to one another. Here is his first Easter pictures.
(For those non-athletes, PR is commonly used in track & field, for when you beat your best times. For example, my PR in the 400M is 60.06. Not bad for a short, white girl.
Easter was very special for my family, not only because of our new son, but also because my sister has just returned safely from her military deployment in Iraq. She was deployed through my entire pregnancy and this is the first time to meet JT. They have been quickly making up for lost time. She has her own "baby voice" to talk to JT. She prefers a British nanny accent. JT seems to like it.
Speaking of PRs, JT has been setting many of his own lately. He had his biggest poop ever about a week ago. He also vomited about a half of a foot straight down my chest. While I was gagging from the smell and laughing from the experience, I couldn't help but also beam with pride over his aim. He has also outgrown his first clothes. He blasted out of the newborn outfits like a green Hulk Hogan.
We are quickly geeting used to one another. Here is his first Easter pictures.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Big Poppa is Here!
Due to some serious sleep deprivation and extreme joy, it has taken me a while to announce the birth of our son, JT! He was born February 25, 2010 at 10:43pm at 7 pounds and 13 ounces and 20 3/4 inches. I know, I know, nearly a month ago! It has taken a WHILE to adjust to the lack of sleep (seriously).
The delivery and birth was more intense that I expected, although I didn't really have any expectations! I was induced at 1am and did not have the baby until nearly 11pm. The petocin took a long time to work and I ended up getting an infection from it which led to a 102 degree temperature. Luckily, that didn't happen until late in the game and it didn't bother the baby significantly.
In case you are wondering, here are my top revelations so far from entering the halls of motherhood:
1) Sleep deprivation is a form of torture, perhaps of the highest order. Seriously, the lack of sleep has been the worst part of this whole experience. I cannot function on two hours of sleep at a time. I hallucinate consciousness.
2) Although I am breastfeeding, I have not joined the Legion of Brainwashed Mothers of the Boob. I don't think I'll be gushing to complete strangers about the bonding experience of nursing. AND - breastfeeding is entirely harder to get a handle on than I expected.
3) I now have a mom body :(. While I'm not jumping off any cliffs, it is very sad to announce that I plan to hang up my bikini - FOREVER. Not that I was in line for the cover of SI or anything, but I was able to humbly sun bathe in my skimpy two piece. My present reality is that my tiny body was stretched to accomodate an 8 pound baby. And, my DNA isn't quite as elastic as Heidi Klum's, ie, it isn't going to retract back to its original size. So, now I have the pleasure of losing the rest of my baby weight and begin to dress my new body. I never realized how fitted many of my shirts are threw the waist.
It's all worth it :)
The delivery and birth was more intense that I expected, although I didn't really have any expectations! I was induced at 1am and did not have the baby until nearly 11pm. The petocin took a long time to work and I ended up getting an infection from it which led to a 102 degree temperature. Luckily, that didn't happen until late in the game and it didn't bother the baby significantly.
In case you are wondering, here are my top revelations so far from entering the halls of motherhood:
1) Sleep deprivation is a form of torture, perhaps of the highest order. Seriously, the lack of sleep has been the worst part of this whole experience. I cannot function on two hours of sleep at a time. I hallucinate consciousness.
2) Although I am breastfeeding, I have not joined the Legion of Brainwashed Mothers of the Boob. I don't think I'll be gushing to complete strangers about the bonding experience of nursing. AND - breastfeeding is entirely harder to get a handle on than I expected.
3) I now have a mom body :(. While I'm not jumping off any cliffs, it is very sad to announce that I plan to hang up my bikini - FOREVER. Not that I was in line for the cover of SI or anything, but I was able to humbly sun bathe in my skimpy two piece. My present reality is that my tiny body was stretched to accomodate an 8 pound baby. And, my DNA isn't quite as elastic as Heidi Klum's, ie, it isn't going to retract back to its original size. So, now I have the pleasure of losing the rest of my baby weight and begin to dress my new body. I never realized how fitted many of my shirts are threw the waist.
It's all worth it :)
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Dreams Deferred...just a little
Today was supposed to be the Big Day - we were going to the hospital today to get induced and meet our baby boy, Jason Thomas. But, as with most things in life, nothing goes according to plan. The baby is doing good in his little coccoon, but my cervix isn't quite ready. Since everything has looked healthy up to this point, we are going to wait another week. Am I disappointed? No. I want to have a healthy baby and a healthy delivery with minimal risks. But, I am sad that we'll have to wait another week to meet our son!
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
It feels like Christmas
We are scheduled to meet our baby boy next Wednesday! We are so full of anticipation and excitement that it reminds me of Christmas. I have been playing nursery rhyme songs on my ipod just like they were Christmas carols. And, it gets me in the mommy mood.
Are we ready? In our hearts, YES. We have been waiting for this day for nearly two years. Our last baby was born to heaven on February 18, 2009 and I can't help but think of him, Jason Thomas's older brother. They will nearly share a birthday. I wonder what I will tell JT about him. He is an angel that will look over him throughout his life. I want to keep him in a special place in my heart...
Are we ready, otherwise? Uh....the house is a wreck! We have so many baby gifts to find a place for. The living room floor is scattered with pastel gift bags, onesies, packaging boxes, assembled and partially assembled baby equipment. Again, it feels like Christmas morning when the kids have tornadoed their way through their gifts, leaving them proudly on display for the rest of the day (um...week).
This is my last week at work, and I have graciously scheduled myself with lots of meetings to wrap up projects and tasks. It feels like I am walking away from another child - my career. But, I know it's just a stage in my life. I am very excited to spend the rest of the year with my baby and transitioning into our family.
So, that's where I am at. It's Christmas Eve here in our household and we awaiting the greatest gift of our lives.
Are we ready? In our hearts, YES. We have been waiting for this day for nearly two years. Our last baby was born to heaven on February 18, 2009 and I can't help but think of him, Jason Thomas's older brother. They will nearly share a birthday. I wonder what I will tell JT about him. He is an angel that will look over him throughout his life. I want to keep him in a special place in my heart...
Are we ready, otherwise? Uh....the house is a wreck! We have so many baby gifts to find a place for. The living room floor is scattered with pastel gift bags, onesies, packaging boxes, assembled and partially assembled baby equipment. Again, it feels like Christmas morning when the kids have tornadoed their way through their gifts, leaving them proudly on display for the rest of the day (um...week).
This is my last week at work, and I have graciously scheduled myself with lots of meetings to wrap up projects and tasks. It feels like I am walking away from another child - my career. But, I know it's just a stage in my life. I am very excited to spend the rest of the year with my baby and transitioning into our family.
So, that's where I am at. It's Christmas Eve here in our household and we awaiting the greatest gift of our lives.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Performance Anxiety
I think I've had a mental breakthrough. You know how you get really nervous and anxious before a big game? Well, that's how I feel when I have to participate in some type of significantly feminine event, like a baby shower (it also happens when I am socializing with a group of former cheerleaders).
I've been worried about my baby showers for a couple of months (pathetic, I know). What do I worry about, you ask? Did I invite everyone that I was spposed to? Did someone's feelings get hurt? Am I gracious enough to the hostesses? Do they know I appreciate them? Basically, I don't know what the hell I am doing - a true duck out of water! Nevertheless, I am proud to report that I have made it through 3 baby showers! I think I performed particularly well. I mingled with the different sub-groups of family - friends, relatives, friends, husband's cousins, etc. I really was appreciative of all of the gifts - surely, my sincerity came through. No one shot me dirty looks or said the dreaded Southern passive agressive put-down, "bless your heart."
The nerves never went away before the games, but I learned to trust that they would disappear at game time. I hope that with more practice at these traditional female roles, I'll become more comfortable in my new "uniform".
I've been worried about my baby showers for a couple of months (pathetic, I know). What do I worry about, you ask? Did I invite everyone that I was spposed to? Did someone's feelings get hurt? Am I gracious enough to the hostesses? Do they know I appreciate them? Basically, I don't know what the hell I am doing - a true duck out of water! Nevertheless, I am proud to report that I have made it through 3 baby showers! I think I performed particularly well. I mingled with the different sub-groups of family - friends, relatives, friends, husband's cousins, etc. I really was appreciative of all of the gifts - surely, my sincerity came through. No one shot me dirty looks or said the dreaded Southern passive agressive put-down, "bless your heart."
The nerves never went away before the games, but I learned to trust that they would disappear at game time. I hope that with more practice at these traditional female roles, I'll become more comfortable in my new "uniform".
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