Reality

So, I have a son now. It’s taken me the 7 weeks since he was born to find the right way to express how I feel about being a Mom again. I would like to write about the birth and all that, but it was really boring as births go. It was much easier than Charlotte and I really only pushed a couple of times before he slid out on his own. He was 9lbs 2oz — big, but still lighter than Charlotte was by 8oz. He’s beautiful, and sweet, and healthy.

I had these delusions of how having another baby would be — challenging, but totally do-able. I’d morph into super Mom and be able to keep my house clean and organized while still playing with Charlotte and breastfeeding my little boy on a perfect schedule. I’d go for walks with the kids and do projects with Charlotte. I’d be blissfully wrapped up in being a Mommy.

It’s not like that at all. I feel terrible for feeling like I miss having just one kid but some days, like yesterday, I feel so overwhelmed and fed up that I want to cry and punch something all at the same time.

Not getting a shower for 3-4 days
Picking up shitty diapers the dogs have chewed
Realizing that I can’t breastfeed because I’m too lazy/selfish/emotionally defective
Not knowing why Owen won’t stop crying and just SLEEP
Wanting a nice healthy breakfast but only drinking coffee and water until Abram gets home from work
Watching the laundry pile up
Watching the bills pile up
The stretch marks aren’t magically invisible
Missing the closeness with your husband

blah

It’s just nothing like fantasy I had in my head. I know I probably built all this up while I was pregnant…how everything would just fall into place and I’d get it. “IT” — being this supermom. But I’m failing and it sucks.

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Charlotte has been exhausting today!  Or maybe I’m just more easily exhausted at 29 weeks pregnant — either way it seems like every step forward I take in cleaning and organizing she comes behind me and pulls me three steps back.  She’s been increasingly needy, grabbing my skirt and whining to be picked up constantly (and with her at 25lbs and me with a sore back and bulging belly….ugh!).  She’s obsessed with watching me write her ABC’s for her.  I’m so proud of her for wanting to learn her letters at 19 months old, but every time she sees a pen in my hand or a crayon on the floor or ANY paper surface (a bill, a book, a magazine, etc.) she wants me to drop everything and write her ABC’s out for her.  It was cute the first ten million times, now it’s almost obsessive and certainly distracting.

She’s usually such a well behaved toddler, but on top of the neediness she colored all over some furniture today that had me gasping and sternly telling her “bad girl!” — to which she promptly started walking around saying “baa goo” in an adorable, heart melting little voice.  It was impossible to stay mad at her longer than it took me to clean it up.

Tomorrow I tackle the no-sew curtains al-la Young House Love for Charlotte’s bedroom.  I’m using the original fabric I bought for her nursery but never used because we moved in such a hurry so while it’s not what I want in her room permanently, it will do for a few months until I can get something else.  I suppose I can’t complain at having 8 yards of cute Alexander Henry fabric to work with….

I’m determined to have her room finished by the end of the month — sooner if she decides to stop clinging to my leg like a monkey every second of the day.  Those pictures of the progress are forthcoming as any photos I took now would just show a pretty much empty room….curtain pics tomorrow though.  Wish me luck!

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Bump in the Night

image Why Me by rosiehardy via Flickr

Abram left on his business trip to Alabama yesterday and while I always know he’ll be back before I know it, this time I knew it would be different since I’m not out of the house at work (distracted) for 8 hours a day.  The first night always sucks the most.  Getting ready for bed after I lay Charlotte down kind of freaks me out a little when Abram isn’t here.  I go through locking up the house in a much more paranoid way, which is silly when I think about it since Abram isn’t bionic or anything and couldn’t do much more than I could if someone actually really broke in or something.  Of course, he could serve as the distraction for Charlotte and I to escape, but that’s morbid and I hate thinking of it like that…but yes…knowing my husband would sacrifice himself as cannon fodder for whatever crazed ax murderer that breaks in helps me sleep better at night. Sue me.

I shower faster, not liking that I can’t hear any noises out in the house, I make sure the dogs are in the bed with me, and even leave extra random lights on around the house.  Oh, and I swapped out the cheap-o alarm clock with one that has a radio so I could hear someone else alive and talking as I tried to fall asleep.  And the bathroom light stays on, door cracked, you know, so I don’t trip in the middle of the night.  Riiight.

I’m really not this much of a wuss normally.  It’s only since becoming a mom that I’ve gotten more and more cautious.  I can’t tell you how many nights I’ve laid awake, even with Abram next to me, thinking about the fastest escape route from a psycho or what I can easily reach for to use as a weapon in an emergency.  Can you tell I’ve watched too many horror movies?  Typing it out makes it seem more OCD than I realized, but I can’t help it.

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Weeds

Princess of the Weeds

It amazes me every day how Charlotte (my daughter) finds wonder in everything around her.  Things I’ve taken for granted, things other people find annoying or even simply trash.  A prime example of this — my mother came over the other day and witnessed me blowing the dandilion poofs in my yard with Charlotte.  You know, the white, seedy, circular poofs that float away and look so pretty when you blow them?  Well, Charlotte loves blowing them, and doesn’t really understand that you don’t blow on all flowers when you pick them now, but it’s adorable to watch her try to “blow” yellow flowering dandilions and buttercups in the yard.  But my Mom had a mini freak out when she saw Charlotte blowing the seeds and me encouraging her.  Why?  Because “they’ll make more baby dandilions and your yard will be covered!”

GASP!  Seriously, I don’t care one bit.  And thankfully neither does my husband and he’s the one doing the yard work.  Charlotte loves to go out and pick as many flowers as she can for no other reason than she likes to rip them up.  Occasionally we get one handed to us, but mostly it’s a 17 month old little girl exploring outside and if all we had was perfectly manicured grass for her to do it in I think it would get really boring, really quickly.

I’m wondering how different our parenting style is from other parents with kids the same age.  Does it really bother some parents that their child perpetuates the growth of weeds in the yard?  What about just generally getting messy outside?  I don’t chase Charlotte around with disinfectant wipes and Lysol and she doesn’t always have to have shoes on when we go out in the yard to explore but I think she’s a clean, happy kid.  Not knowing many other parents of young children makes you really question what all you’re doing right and what could be better.  I have a clear picture in my head of how I don’t want to parent, but instituting and living that ideal isn’t always as easy as picturing the well-functioning, creative kids that are the result of said parenting style.  It doesn’t help that I watch way too much Law & Order: SVU — that show will warp anyone’s view on parenting and what lengths to go to to keep your kids safe and healthy.  Charlotte will be locked in our yard with a chastity belt and all the dandilions I can produce until I keel over at the ripe old age of 124.

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