Wisdom

I apologize in advance if this post seems scatterbrained because its author is indeed scatterbrained at the moment. There is so much happening over here. First, we are buying a house! After 6 months of a harrowing house hunt (why did I think that the process was going to be as delightful as watching an episode of House Hunters??), we are the almost-owners of a cute 2-story with a deck and swing that LO very much approves of. We couldn't be happier, more nervous or relieved at the same time. It's not quite a fixer-upper but it does need a lot of loving!  You know who else needs a lot of loving??  LO and ML...so how everybody will get their fair share is beyond me. But they will. One baseboard and princess tea party at a time.

We've also been busy with visitors this month. I love having visitors. So much so that I feel sad when they leave. When you're a stay-at-home mom, it is especially nice to have adult company during the day. Although LO's vocab can be quite extensive for a 3-year-old (e.g: "Are you so proud of me for being considerate?"), one enjoys having a conversation without having to explain every metaphor or saying. The other day I said jokingly, "Just go fly a kite" to which LO answered quizzically "But I don't have a kite Mama!" This turned into a long explanation that you just wouldn't have to get into with the average adult. Kids are so literal. Anyhow, I just love company so keep it coming, people!  Even if I'm dead tired for a week because I try to keep up with my non-child-raising peeps. I just can't party like a rock star anymore. But I give myself props for trying.

Not only has the partying left me dead tired but Baby ML has contributed too! She is growing crazy fast. She had her 4-month appointment and dreaded shots. Poor baby. It just never gets easier for mama to watch her babies get pricked. She was out of sorts for a few days which then segued into the tortuous 4 month sleep regression. If you have kids and you haven't heard of it, then count yourself lucky. We couldn't figure out why ML went from nursing 3-4 times a night to waking every hour screaming inconsolably. And then calming down to nurse and doing it again the next hour. TORTURE. For everybody except LO who wakes every morning chipper as can be. Three days into this regression and she's learned a new word...EXHAUSTED.

"Mami, are you ESS-hausted again?" LO asks as she jumps into bed with us.

"Why yes, my love muffin, mami and sister (ML's sweaty cheek is pressed against my bosom) are both exhausted. Now go ahead and watch another "Cat in the Hat."

"But why can I watch 2 shows mami? I never get 2 shows."

Geez kid, just take your good fortune and hush it!  **Please notice the absence of quotations - I didn't actually speak those words but I might have if I hadn't dozed off already. Just kidding.

So this is a slice out of our lives for the last few days. Super fun, right?? P has to actually go and see other human beings and function in the world. I only have to do a quick drop-off and pick-up at LO's school and there is no judgement there. I can spot others who are in the trenches too. We're the ones in workout gear with ZERO intentions of exercising. We're lucky we got out of bed and dressed.

But dammit, as hard as it is and sleep-deprived as I am, I know how LUCKY I am. I have healthy beautiful babies, a kick-ass partner, a great support system made up of grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends. We have a roof over our heads (soon our very own roof!) and food in our tummies (even if I forgot to defrost the chicken and I shared a bag of goldfish with LO instead). A weird thing happens when I see tragedies like the tornado in Oklahoma or the Boston bombings; I feel more love. I feel more gratitude. I feel more present. I feel more aware of my mortality. This awareness does not fill me with fear or anger. Instead, it makes me stop worrying about my endless to-do list while I watch LO's Sugarplum fairy dance. I fully enjoy watching her twirl around with her puffy tutu on over her Hello Kitty pajamas. Her smile as genuine and real as this moment is to her. The past and future are insignificant in comparison to the NOW. In this very ordinary moment,  she's as happy as she's ever been. Children can teach us a lot about living in the moment. Because that is how they live. Untarnished by to-do lists and stressful lives, they seek happiness at each and every opportunity. Oftentimes, it takes a tragedy to make adults stop and smell the roses but children live this way daily.

Then I realize that LO is actually teaching ME the big important lessons in life. I only teach her the silly stuff like to keep peas out of her nose and to not over-share (recently, she announced to her entire class during circle time that she "had a little bit of diarrhea last night"!!!).

Enjoy your long weekend and don't forget to let your kids teach you a thing or two. They're wise little creatures.

It's been a hard day's night

There are hard moments, hard days and then there are hard weeks. Lucky for me, this is usually where it ends. I can't remember having ENTIRE hard months or years. Yet a hard week can feel eternal. I feel like I've aged 2 years, at the very least, this past week.

Lack of sleep is the culprit. Public Enemy Numero Uno in our house. From this stems all other evils - grumpiness, lack of patience, achy body, headache, messy house, subpar meal planning (the other day I had 2 girl scout cookies, chips and salsa, and a cheese stick for lunch - simultaneously), overgrown eyebrows...etc, etc. Why the sudden slumber-shattering epidemic, you ask? The MILK MONSTER (as LO has lovingly named her baby sis). How dare this baby come into our life and turn things upside down??? Three months later. How cruel.

We thought we hit the mother of all jackpots when ML was born. She slept a few hours at a time, had zero problems latching on and displayed a pleasant demeanor. She seemed content to be out of the womb and happy to be part of our little family. ML went with the flow and our attention seemed to be more on LO and her constant shenanigans. I often thought: "This is easy breezy. Sign me up for another." In contrast, I thought seriously about getting my tubes tied after LO's birth.

"SUPER MAMA," as LO calls me from time-to-time (more out of her fascination with superheroes and less to do with my awesomeness), began to feel like an accurate nickname for me. I was really handling it all - with ease and grace. Ok, let's not go that far. But I was managing to take daily showers, cook dinners and tweeze my eyebrows (this eyebrow situation is really bothering me). I only occasionally shoplifted gallons of milk and forgot to pay LO's ballet classes once. Not too shabby for this new mom of two!

But I got overconfident. I underestimated my little sweet peanut. It turns out that she has a personality. She has needs and has tricks up her sleeves. Tricks like suckering me into nursing her every 1.5 hours at night. Tricks like screaming when her head touches anything other than flesh. Which means now she needs to be held the greater part of the day. Tricks like ALWAYS getting fussy right at dinnertime so that P holds her football style all through the meal. Tricks like pushing the pacifier out of her mouth and making a sour face as if it tastes like rotten eggs. Tricks like practicing her verbal skills at 4 in the morning. Cooing and babbling is not so adorable in the wee hours of the night. Actually, she is still rather delectably sweet. P and I find ourselves admiring her cuteness through moonlight and bleary eyes. And then we realize we are crazy to waste precious sleep minutes staring at this creature that will awaken again within the hour.

And now I have to run, my friends, because the Milk Monster has figured out that she has been duped. I managed to trick her for 25 minutes into thinking that the rocking motion was coming from the rocking chair and my arms and not the mechanical swing. She did not like that very much.

See, mama has some tricks up her sleeves too. Yet I'm clearly still losing this game.

Can I just forfeit and ask for a rematch after I've slept for 3 days straight?

You know you got 2+ kids when...

You're able to nurse and cook at the same time while singing "Skidamarink" with your other kid.

You can one-handedly dismantle the stroller while holding your other kid's hoodie so that she doesn't dart into the parking lot.

The sound of the baby crying doesn't illicit you to immediately STOP what you're doing and dash to pick her up. You take a beat....or a few sometimes. (Especially when you're in the middle of a delightful task such as wiping your other child's butt.)

You can give your baby a bath while helping your other child bathe her baby doll.

You can talk on the phone (on speaker), hold the baby, and play a game of catch.

You can be rocking the baby to sleep and reading "Green Eggs and Ham" to the other child who has a ridiculously oversized tutu on that practically swallows up the baby.

You let your preschooler drive the shopping cart while you try to remember what you came to the store for. She then crashes into a display of greeting cards and knocks it over. But the baby goes unharmed...close one!

You accidentally shoplift a gallon of milk which you put on the bottom of the cart and forgot about. Sprouts, I owe you $3.89.

You can fall asleep anytime, anywhere. Including the bathroom...not that that has EVER happened to me.

You don't change the diaper at the first sign of pee. You wait until she goes #2.

You and baby both eat while reading a magazine or checking Facebook.

You can successfully change a diaper without taking the baby's socks off. I used to always take LO's socks off because she'd inevitably squash her heels into the poop. I OWN this diapering business now. I can even do it in the dark. Which is the only action happening in the dark, ya know??! But that's another story...

You let your newborn watch TV. I never even had the TV on when LO was a baby. ML is a huge fan of Downton Abbey. We both shed tears when Crawley died in that car accident.

You do one load of laundry everyday. Minimum.

You don't boil the pacifiers daily. Or ever.

Your idea of alone time is that rare, long, luxurious 8 minute shower. You might even exfoliate!

Most of your sentences begin with : "CAREFUL"...
                 "Don't tip sister's car seat over."
                 "Get that stick out of sister's ear."
                 "You can't swing with sister on her baby swing."
                 "No, sister can't eat goldfish."
                 "We don't throw balls near sister."

It's a true miracle ML has survived these 6 weeks. And not only is she surviving, she's thriving! She's putting on weight like a champ and does all that is expected of her. Eat, pee poop, sleep, cry. Repeat.

And despite LO's constant shenanigans, she's such a proud and sweet big sister. She has adjusted beautifully and is, for the most part, a great little helper.

I suppose we're all thriving!  As long as I don't shoplift again and end up in the slammer.











         

Third Time's a Charm

I'm in love. For the third time. My first love was P. I was eighteen and had no idea what I was in for. I remember feeling scared, not of commitment, but of feeling something so strong for somebody that I hadn't known for very long. After all, every person I had really LOVED in life so far had known me my entire life, i.e. parents, brothers, grandparents. But this was a "new" person finding a way into my heart and taking up permanent residence in it.

The next love was LO. And what a love affair that has been. Rapid, intense, limitless. The kind of love worth dying, killing, stealing for. A mother's love for her child is so natural that it almost feels like it was always in you, just waiting for the little creature to emerge. Then the child appears and "BOOM," you've been hit. Hit with a love potion so powerful that you only have eyes and ears for your spawn. And you are never the same.  You look the same to the world, but you just know you're different. You are no longer worried about your own well being first. No matter the actual physical distance from your child, you are never far way. Your mind stays close. For example, you're at the movies on a rare date night: count the times you think of your kid, involuntarily of course. I enjoy a night out as much as the next mom but it will scare you silly to actually count the times you think of your nugget. I counted 7 times last time. Wow. And P and I practically ran out the door in excitement of our date night.

I read an article by a new mom who wished to tell the world that motherhood (or parenthood) is not that hard. She didn't understand how people herald parenting as the most rewarding and most difficult job. She made comparisons to a brain surgeon. Her point being that cleaning up spit-up and changing diapers were nothing like performing brain surgery.  She said we (society) need to stop saying motherhood is so difficult. Apparently, she must have an easy infant.  I want her to deal with a colicky baby and she will see that soothing a howling baby will seem as grand as rocket science! But I do agree with her on one thing. The actual caregiving duties are not what make motherhood difficult. Of course, in my experience, it's not a walk in the park either. But there are more rigorous, laborious, and mind-challenging occupations out there. I'll give the author that. What is missing from her argument is the "human element."I think most parents would say that, no matter the age of their children, they're constantly concerned with their well being. They basically care about another person more than they do themselves. You pray for their good health, for their happiness, for everything beautiful in the world for them, but you really can't control any of it. And that is the difficult part. Not the diapering or nursing. Oh and it's a life-long job. No early retirement here.

And now for my third love. Little ML. It's been 2 weeks and I don't know how I lived without her before. I heard my OB say "Open your eyes Jennifer,  look at your daughter." My eyes were squeezed shut, possibly trying to shut out the 10 random people (nurses, techs, pediatricians, janitors probably) looking at my nether region, She arrived at 10:41 am and by 10:42 am, I knew... it was LOVE. She was mine. Forever. And just like that, I have two little people occupying the world whom I will never stop loving, caring and dreaming for, and worrying about. And that for me is the most rewarding and most difficult job I will ever have.

The End and Beginning.

I have less than a week of pregnancy left. Wow! This second pregnancy has blasted by. We will be meeting our baby girl any day now. The excitement, anticipation, nervousness is mounting.  Everyday, I wake and wonder "Is today the day?"

LO waited until the absolute last moment to come of her own recourse. At 10 days past due, I was scheduled for induction only to have LO start the process 2 hours before my appointment. When I woke P to tell him I was in labor, he rolled over and told me to go back to sleep. He thought I was delusional since I desperately wanted a natural childbirth. 7 hours later, she was in my arms, wailing. She came on her own terms. I should have known then what I was in for!

Who knows what this birth story will be like. No two are the same. I am equally mesmerized and freaked out by the whole thing.  As I skim the pages of the childbirth book, I feel reassured that my body will remember what to do. Yet what it has to do is daunting, to say the least. Stuff stretches (no matter how many Kegels you do, you ain't ever the same), fluids secrete, your placenta pops out, and you're constantly aware of the possibility that you may or may not "po po" (as we call it in our spanglish house) while pushing out your precious bundle of joy. Beautiful.

Yet it really is beautiful. You will never appreciate or admire your body as much as you will those moments after giving birth. You just gave life to another human being. Nothing is grander. It may seem ordinary because we all made the same entrance into this world. But once you've been on the pushing end of it, you realize how huge it is (as is that HEAD!) Because I'm suffering from a major case of Prego Brain, I can only resort to the cliché: it is a miracle.

My plan for the remaining days of pregnancy is to enjoy solo time with LO, smile each time I feel a kick from inside (a sensation I may never feel again), SLEEP, watch movies with P, spend time alone because it will NEVER be this easy until the girls are older. Yet I do not wish to speed up that process. It goes fast enough as it is. I hope to use the most valuable wisdom acquired from the first baby (another cliché): This too shall pass. Sleepless nights, sore nipples, explosive diapers, crying bouts quickly turn into 11 hour sleep nights, deflated boobs, potty training and tantrums.

What does not pass? The LOVE and MEMORIES.

Those live on forever.

Second Act

Baby # 2 has been making her existence known lately. What started as graceful fluttering movements are now jolting acrobatics in my expanding belly. It's as if with every kick and fist pump, she's saying "I'M HERE!" I don't even remember wild LO kicking this much. Scary. 

Why? Because I had this vision of my second baby girl being a sweet, tame creature. A snuggly, sensitive soul who would be more of the "clutching Mama's leg" type at school drop-off than LO's "C-ya Mami" wave. Of course it's impossible to assess a fetus' personality. But if all this movement is any indication of the energy of this little one, we're in for a wild (wilder, rather) ride!

I can't deny that I have worried about the attention that Numero Dos will get. LO is just such a tour de force. She came into this world as a bolt of energy. She has always demanded attention and received it by the boatloads. Recently I opened LO's baby boxes. The baby swing and Little Lamb vibrating seat are in mint condition. LO demanded warm arms. We rarely put her down. P and I took turns bouncing her on the exercise ball. It was a life saver. It soothed her every time. (Note to self: find that ball.) 

But this approach will be impossible with LO running amuck asking for constant snacks and for yet ANOTHER game of hide-and-seek. (Why does this game not get old? She hides in the same spot every time! ) I know I will be dividing myself and hopefully not going crazy in the process. See, the only experience I have had with a baby was with LO and that was not easy. Not in the least. Some babies seem to fit seamlessly into their new parents' lives. These are the rested mothers that proudly say "I have such a good, calm baby." I never ONCE uttered these words. Of course LO was "good" in the usual definition of the word. She was not an evil baby (do those exist?? no!) but what people usually mean when they say "good" baby is that their baby: SLEEPS (LO did NOT) and generally requires little attention other than diapering and feeding (HA!). LO required enormous amounts of attention and she did not fit seamlessly anywhere (except our hearts). She turned our world upside down and inside out. And continues to do so. 

So the idea of another experience such as this seems daunting to say the least. Yet, I do believe that one never gets more than they can handle. Is this not true? Please say yes. I see the moms at LO's school, rocking the Baby Bjorn while holding their toddler's hands (and the lunch box and back pack.) They're doing it. So can I! (right??)

And while some of you may be reading and thinking "What a wimp; I did all that while _____(insert any scenario which is more difficult - and there are many- like "working 4 jobs" or "raising 7 other kids"), to me, my situation still scares me silly sometimes. It's just the way it is. But I applaud you and ask you for tips. Although please don't say "All my babies were good and calm and slept through the night at 4 weeks" because if history repeats itself, that won't be the case.

LO will be a hard act to follow in many ways, but it seems as though this baby is ready to hold her own and claim her position in the family. FIST PUMP!

Nature

My favorite pastime used to be people watching. Actually this activity was not limited to people - trees, the sunset, a dog, the perfect foam on a cappuccino.  Anything and everything did not escape my watchful and engaged eye. Now, a bus full of trannies dressed like Cher could disembark right in front of me and I wouldn't even notice.

When I had LO, this pastime became part of my past. Somehow that oxytocin (the "love" hormone that bonds you to your baby) came in doses that I was not prepared for. I only had eyes (and ears) for her. I never tired of looking at her. If she was in the presence of other humans, they took on the form of an outline, a shadow almost. I just couldn't help it. This is how motherhood hit me...like a bus full of trannies. 

Now that LO is (slightly) more independent - she still follows me to the bathroom and never fails to ask (even in public restrooms!) if I'm going POO or PEE - and can entertain herself anywhere from 8-13 minutes at at time, I see all that I've been missing. At the coffee shop the other day, she sat enjoying her chocolate milk and cookie (it was treat day for both us, my decaffeinated pregnant body begged for a latte) while I actually looked up...at the world. It was fascinating! There was so much to see. The old handsome man at the corner table reminded me so much of my Grandpa, with his gold watch and "guayabera." The Goth Girl barista was flirting relentlessly with her Jock Boy coworker. A dog took a serious dump beside the outside table of his owner. He embarrassedly struggled to clean it up before anybody noticed. But I did! I noticed because I had a few moments to engage with the outside world. The world where people are quiet, relaxed and not throwing pebbles at each other (like a scene we had just witnessed at the park). 

When you have little kids, you just miss everything. Or at least 98% of everything. You are more concerned if your toddler is going to bolt out into the street than if the clouds look like they'll bring rain. At the grocery store, while picking out oranges, you must keep an eye that your tot doesn't pick one from the bottom and that the entire triangle sculpture doesn't come tumbling down. Say goodbye to scanning a tabloid in the checkout line because you're more than likely keeping your kid's hands off the M&M's that are so conveniently placed right at her eye line.  Then you'll spend the rest of your time in line explaining that it's not time for candy because it's 9 in the morning. Over and over again. Unless your kid just has a tantrum, in which case you will move on to other tactics...distraction, whispering threats (only if your kid is old enough to care) or just buying the dang candy to make it stop (I don't recommend this tactic or you'll be buying M&M's every time you buy milk or anything for that matter. Why does Lowe's have candy displayed at the checkout!?! Cruel.)

Nature is a calculating, conniving force with altruistic motives. Nature wants us to care for our young and keep them out of harm's way to insure mankind's propagation. It blinds you with this love potion that forces you to become an obsessive, possessive psycho. Brilliantly it does it in such a way that you don't even realize it. You think you're normal, that you're unchanged. Not true. It's just Nature pulling one over on you, on all of us. 

So if you ask a mother of young tots, "Did you see that??" Chances are she'll say "What?" Unless her kid has a giant chocolate chip cookie in her little hands. Take that, Nature! We too have tricks up our sleeves - Dora, Yo Gabba Gabba, Ipad's and cookies. And I will not feel guilty. Those minutes are precious. As are the other 1,276,2093 minutes you spend eyeing your offspring.