Lessons on Life and Love for my Daughter

Today marks the one year anniversary of the day my daughter’s father told me it was over. I have grown so much in the past year, not in spite of this loss but because of it.  I have grown as a woman, as a friend and, perhaps most importantly, as a mother.  As a mother, I have to watch my words and my actions more closely than I ever have in the past.  Because, one day, my daughter will be old enough to find those words on the internet.  And the message that is sent to her is so much more important than who was right or wrong or who gets the last word. To me, it has always been about what’s best for her, no matter how difficult that may be sometimes. There are so many lessons that I have learned over the past year that I hope to pass along to my daughter and to keep her from learning them the hard way as much as I possibly can.  What would you add to the list?

1. Don’t make snap judgements of people but do pay attention to red flags.  Your “gut” is almost always right.  If something seems too good to be true, it probably is.

2. No one will ever be perfect.  Neither are you.  And people will make mistakes.  Find someone willing to admit their mistakes and, most importantly, learn from them.  Find someone willing to say “I’m sorry” and mean it from the bottom of their heart.  Find someone who is aware of their flaws and can laugh at themselves.  Always find laughter.

3. Find someone who understands the value of hard work and takes pride in their work but will always value family first.

4. Fight back when it’s important to you.  Girls are raised to be nice and not argumentative or combative.  If you don’t respect yourself, your wishes, your beliefs, no one else will either.  When something truly matters to you, fight for it.  Someone who truly loves you will respect you for that.

5. Never compromise yourself for anyone. Anyone who truly loves you will never ask you to.

6. We are all a constant work in progress.  There is always room for growth and improvement and we are all changing every day.  From our tastes in music to our ways of communicating.  The man you fall in love with today will not exist in exactly the same way tomorrow or five or ten years from now.  Fall in love with someone for their heart and their soul and find someone who loves those core values in you as well.  Our hearts do not change even if our hair falls out and we gain fifty pounds.

7. Find someone who stands by you in public no matter what.  There will always be disagreements but it’s important to maintain a united front and stick by one another.

8. Find someone who values your dreams as much as their own.

9. Find someone who treats you as their equal partner; who includes you in business decisions, home decisions, anything that impacts you as well as themselves.

10. Pregnancy and childbirth is the most rewarding but difficult part of being a woman.  Find someone who respects this miracle for what it is and respects the strain it places on you.  Find someone who will rub your feet without you asking, who will never question your hormonal anger or tears, who leaves your food alone and gets you whatever you ask for.  You want your pillow from home at the hospital?  He’ll bring back three.

11. Find someone who believes that a smile on your face is more important than if there are dishes in the sink when he gets home.

12. Watch how a man talks to his mother.  That’s how he will talk to you one day, too.

13. No matter how close you think you are to his mom, she will always take his side when it comes down to it.  That’s her son, after all.

14. A man’s actions mean more than his words.  If a man breaks his word to you once, he will do it again.

15. Never make a major life decision like moving in together, having children or getting married until you’ve had your first major fight.  It will happen.  And how you both get through that experience will teach you so much more about your relationship and your future together then the good times.

16.  No one takes selfies of their hard times.  Every couple has them.  There will be days where one, or both, of you will want to give up; you’ll want to pack your bags and never look back.  Always look at the bigger picture.

17. The kitchen is the heart of the home.  Find someone who will loves to cook with you.  And dance with you in the kitchen.

18. No matter how much you love someone, always love yourself more.  Don’t ever let anyone make you question your value.  That isn’t love.

19. Be cautious not to take people for granted and know that what you think you need to make you happy may be entirely wrong.  Don’t let someone  who truly loves you slip through your fingers because they don’t meet all of the qualifications on your checklist.  Remember to always look at the heart and soul.

20. Life truly isn’t always fair.  Being a good and loving person who truly deserves happiness and love doesn’t mean life is going to hand it to you on a silver platter.  You will get your heart broken.  But never give up hope.  Never stop believing. And I will always love you no matter what.

Dear Daughter: I’m Not Perfect

I know that, as your parent, there will be times I act like I know everything. And, until you become a teenager, you may even believe me. But I want to tell you a scary truth: I don’t.

I don’t always know the right thing to say to make you feel better. Or the right thing to do to keep you from getting hurt. I won’t always understand your frustrations or why something that seems silly to me means the world to you. But I promise that I will always try.

I will make mistakes. I can’t promise that I’ll never hurt you or let you down. Because I’m human. No matter how hard I try to do everything right, I will screw up sometimes. But I promise that I will always apologize when it’s appropriate.

There will be so many things I can’t protect you from in this life; so many things out of my control. There will be others who break your heart. You will undoubtedly have times that you don’t succeed no matter how hard you try. And I won’t be able to prevent that pain. But I promise I will be right beside you and there for you whenever you need me. I will always be there to help you dust yourself off and encourage you to keep going.

We will argue. We will become angry and frustrated with one another at times. We will wonder, at times, “what the hell is wrong with you???” But I promise I will always be there. I will always love you no matter what.

I’m not perfect. But my love for you is.

Adults Work

When my daughter was born, I was fortunate enough to stay home with her for ten months. I had considered staying home with her permanently. And someone said to me “adults work.” I was told that raising my child wasn’t work, it was “playing with your kid all day.”

Let me be clear; I adore my daughter. She is my everything and I treasure every moment I have with her. But raising another human being is work. I’m now back at work full time due to circumstances and I can honestly say that raising my kid is harder. Because, if you’re doing it right, there is so much more to parenting besides “playing” with your kid.

Play is an essential part of childhood. It should be an essential part of adulthood, too but responsibilities often get in our way. That being said, yes, I play with my kid a lot. But that play serves a purpose greater than just seeing that infectious smile or hearing her laugh. It’s teaching her. It’s teaching her fine motor skills, walking, talking, what the proper words are for objects. It’s teaching her how to make things work, how to read a book. It’s teaching her wrong from right. Trust, love, respect. It is the most important job in the world. It’s Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes. It’s where is your belly button? Point to mommy’s nose!

It’s reacting appropriately to negative behavior and raising a child you’ll be proud to send out into the world one day. It’s getting them to eat a balanced diet and take a bath. It’s knowing that sometimes you can’t be fun. Sometimes you have to say no and get a cup thrown at your head. And then address the issue of the cup being thrown at your head. Sometimes you’re the bad cop. And that’s certainly not fun.

It’s trying to get clothes on a person while they’re running away from you. It’s teaching another person where their toes are. And how to use the potty. And yes, watching your child learn and grow is rewarding and wonderful. But it’s still work. We don’t tell professional athletes that they don’t have a real job because what they do for a living is fun. And they get paid a ton of money for doing it! Being a parent is a full time job without a paycheck, without a lunch break and without a vacation plan.

I talk to other women I work with whose children are now all grown up. And they all say the same thing “I was lucky enough to stay home when my kids were little.” Times have changed and more often than not now, both parents need to work to make ends meet. But if it’s doable? I don’t see the downside to having a stay-at-home parent. In my opinion, it’s giving your child a major benefit. And it doesn’t make anyone less adult. Any parent who thinks a stay-at-home parent doesn’t work isn’t doing it right.

Struggling for Understanding

As I watch Hoarders and am given the motivation to clean up the toys that my daughter, the tornado, deposited throughout my entire apartment, I’m also struck with a painful realization.  I’m watching this episode about a woman in Hawaii, whose home is so cluttered, dirty and filled with roaches that she is at risk of having her children taken away from her.  But what strikes me so much about this isn’t the deplorable condition of her home or the risk to her children.  What strikes me is her husband, who is by her side, helping her clean up, helping her deal with the emotional and mental struggles that she is being faced with during the clean up process, who is going to counseling with her to help keep their family from ever being in that situation again.  I watch him cry for his wife and for her sickness, despite the enormous frustration that it’s caused him.  And I think, that is love.

There’s a lot I still struggle to understand about my own situation.  I have looked inside of myself and have faced the truth of my own flaws and shortcomings and looked at what I can do to try to become a better person.  I have come to terms with the disease that I was afflicted with after my child’s birth and I am proud of myself for how far I have come.  I believe that I’m strong, forgiving, loving and compassionate and I’m happy with the person I am. I’m not perfect and will continue to falter now and then.  I’m human.  I’ve made apologies to the man I love, to the father of my child, for how my disease impacted him.  And I have tried everything that I can think of to suggest to work on repairing our family.  Not just for our daughter’s sake but for us as well.  Because we deserve to have love.  Everyone does.

What I can’t understand is the unbreakable wall that I am met with.  I fell in love with a man who talked to me.  Really talked.  About feelings.  I swear, I’m not making him up.  They do exist.  I fell in love with a man who wasn’t afraid to tell me or show me how much he loved me.  He wasn’t afraid to tell or show everyone else how much he loved me, either.  He showed up at my place after a disagreement and apologized, telling me that he doesn’t ever want to let me down again.  And what I can’t understand is how there doesn’t appear to be a trace of this man left.

CC admits that he has changed.  He’s implied that I’m responsible for that change and, he’s probably right.  I said and did some unexplainable things during the first few months of my daughter’s life. For which I’ve already apologized.  There is nothing more that I can do.  I can’t take them back.  I can’t turn back time.  All I can do is say that I’m sorry.  And I’ve done this over and over again.  Despite his admitting that he is no longer that same person that I fell in love with, CC is adamant that I’m the only one who needs to change in order for us to ever be able to be together again.  When I try to talk about working towards reconciliation, I’m repeatedly told that “You haven’t changed.”  But I can’t understand how one can expect change when they’ve done nothing to help facilitate it.  We don’t talk. We make small talk about our child.  But even trying to have a conversation about her birthday turns into a battle of wills and it winds up being a fight and I wind up crying.  When nothing is done to work on improving our communication with one another, nothing will change.  I can’t understand how someone can expect change to just happen.

I can’t understand why I’m blamed for so, so much.  I can’t understand how two people can see one situation so differently.  I can’t understand how someone can put their foot down and say “I will xyz” when trying to have a conversation about our child’s best interests, instead of having a calm, rational conversation, and yet state that I’m controlling and everything always has to be my way.  I’m not the one putting my foot down.  I’m the one trying to talk things out, to find a way for everyone to be able to live with the decisions that are made.

I can’t understand how someone can truly believe that they were always there for you when they left you alone because they “couldn’t stand to be around you” and told you that you had to leave your home, saying that it was never your home to begin with and they just allowed you to be a guest there.  I can’t understand how someone can say that they are still always there for you yet they won’t go to counseling, won’t stay after putting your daughter to bed so that you can talk like adults, and when you ask for help with your child because she’s sick and you’re exhausted, they tell you no.  I can’t understand how someone can do all of these things and still believe that I’m the “bad guy” for saying that he wasn’t there for me. Being there for someone means getting on the floor with them while they’re crying and holding them. It means accepting their apologies. It means being there. Physically.

I can’t understand why I can’t win, so to speak.  I know that there are wonderful things that CC has done and continues to do.  And I have bragged about him many times.  When I was recovering from childbirth, a bad infection and a back injury all at once, I couldn’t pick my child up from her bed.  CC would bring her to me for her night feedings and then put her back to bed for me afterwards.  He changes diapers.  Gives her baths.  He would leave breakfast on my nightstand before leaving for work in the mornings because I wouldn’t eat otherwise.  He shoveled my car out of the snow for me during our recent snowstorm.  He has a good heart.  Underneath all of the hurt and anger and frustration is a wonderful man.  I can’t understand why me bringing up something that’s hurt me or that I don’t think is right seems to negate all of that to him.  It’s as if just because I think he does one thing wrong, it means everything he does is wrong.  And that simply isn’t the truth and for the life of me I can’t understand it.

I can’t understand why I’m always wrong.  What CC took away from my heartfelt post, The Day the Earth Stood Still was that he wasn’t there for me and he’s to blame for our relationship falling apart and that I love him.  And yet, I spent so much of that post talking about what I did to contribute to our relationship failing.  I took ownership of my part in all of this and I can’t for the life of me understand how nothing I said in that post could touch him in any way.

I can’t understand how someone who held my hand and cried watching the amount of pain I was in during labor could later turn around and tell me “Women give birth every day.” Like it was no big deal what I went through to give him the incredible child he loves so very much.  I can’t understand how this man who told me that I was his best friend, could truly believe that we always had a poor relationship.  I can’t understand how this man who has left work to go to the aid of a family member who suffers from seizures could not show any compassion for the challenges I faced as a result of my disease.  I can’t understand how, when I point out how much I have changed already, when I talk about how I get up and shower and get dressed every day and my home is maintained (whatever that is with a ten month old) and I’m singing and dancing and taking our daughter out somewhere every day, how he can respond to me with “that’s what human beings do.”  It’s cold.  It lacks any kind of understanding or compassion.  It’s belittling.  Because it isn’t my fault that there were times I was in the same clothes for three days straight.  It isn’t my fault that I couldn’t stay on top of a breastfeeding newborn, recovering from major surgery and a serious infection that landed me back in the hospital when my daughter was only a week old, a back injury that made caring for my daughter incredibly difficult and trying to maintain our home.  It isn’t my fault that I was sick.

It isn’t my fault that I suggested counseling several times before we actually went.  Or that, after only two sessions, CC gave up, while I kept going – alone.  It isn’t my fault that I went to the church to speak with a Deacon about the state of my family – alone. And that when I ask him to go he tells me no because “I don’t have to.”  It isn’t my fault that every thing I do to try to be pleasant with one another, to try to rekindle some spark between us is interpreted as “manipulation”.  I can’t understand how he can question my motives so very much when all I want to do is anything in the world that I can to somehow be a happy family.

I can’t understand how someone can be so admittedly unhappy.  How they could say that they do want to have their family back together but just don’t want the arguing, yet be unwilling to do anything to facilitate that happening.  It took months for us to destroy our relationship.  It will take time to fix it as well.  But if you want a family, if you want to be together, you make it happen.  You try anything you possibly can.  Because, really, what more do you have to lose?

I like my apartment, for the most part.  I could do without the noisy neighbors and unassigned parking spaces.  And the flight of stairs.  But it’s mine.  No one can tell me that it isn’t.  It’s cozy.  It’s warm.  It’s inviting.  It feels like a home.  It’s filled to the brim with toys.  And love.  I feel more at ease here then I did in his house for a long time.  Perhaps because it was his house.  At one time it didn’t feel that way, it felt like home, but that was a long time ago.  And yet, I still fell asleep every night next to the father of my child.  I kissed him goodnight every night, no matter what.  He was always there next to me for me to curl into, to put an arm around.  He was there for me to cook dinner for and to enjoy family days.  And that is greatly missing from my home.

I made a lot of mistakes.  I hurt people who I cared about.  I stopped truly showing appreciation for the good that I had.  But I stopped being appreciated as well.  I stopped being understood and loved for who I am unconditionally.  I stopped being allowed to take up residency in his heart.  And so, here I am, confused.  Lost.  Because I can’t understand how two people can want the exact same thing and yet not be able to find a way to work together towards that common goal.  I can’t understand what more I’m supposed to do.  And I can’t understand how to not feel guilty for my daughter being in the middle.

“Right now it don’t make sense I can’t make it all make sense So I’m gonna sit right here On the edge of this pier Watch the sunset disappear” ~ Luke Bryan

The Day The Earth Stood Still

This will probably be the most difficult thing I have ever written.  There are tears in my eyes as I type this and they have been there for hours now, since the door shut behind my little girl and her daddy as he took her to his house for the day.  I hesitated to write this because there are always people who will want to kick you when you are down, who find joy in other people’s struggles.  But this isn’t about them and I will not let them have that kind of power over me.  This is about my need to heal, to try to make sense of a senseless situation.  And to perhaps help others who may be in similar situations feel less alone.  To those who will find pleasure in my pain, I pray for you.  I pray that you find whatever is missing in your own life.

Most people look forward to the weekend.  It’s the end of the work week and time to have fun and relax with family and friends.  I dread the weekends.  Because every Saturday, my incredible daughter goes with her father for the entire day.  She lights up when she sees him and I know that she loves this time with him and that it’s the right thing to do.  I know that the situation could be worse and that my daughter could not have a father figure in her life.  And I thank God every day that she has her daddy.  But I miss her terribly, especially today.  My little girl is sick and I can’t be with her.  It goes against every maternal instinct known to man.  And, I also know that while the situation could be worse, it could also be much better.

While neither of us planned to have a child, she is the greatest miracle either of us could ever have imagined.  She is the light in both of our lives, the reason the sun rises and sets each day.  But we weren’t ready for the way having a child would change our relationship, for the way it would change us.

I read about women who have suffered from severe Post Partum Depression and/or Post Partum Anxiety.  These women who have terrifying thoughts of hurting themselves or their babies.  I never went through any of that.  I would never in a million years hurt my child or leave her without a mother.  She is my reason for waking up every day and I would never abandon her.  I think of the women who have struggled with these thoughts and my heart goes out to them.  I can not begin to imagine how scary that must be.  And it made it difficult for me to see my own struggles for what they were.  The feelings of guilt, not being good enough, failure, anxiety, loss of control.  The inability to balance being a mother, a girlfriend, a lover and taking care of myself.  All the while I just thought that my feelings were because of fighting in my relationship with CC.  I couldn’t see that it was something deeper until it tore my relationship apart.

Now I refuse to take full blame for the collapse of my daughter’s family.  It takes two, after all.  And we both let ourselves change.  We both failed to see the truth in our problems until it was all so far gone.  And we both failed to do everything we could to fight for each other and not against each other.  We let resentment build because it just all went on for too long without the help that we needed so badly.  The day CC decided he could no longer handle our difficulties, the earth stood still for me.  Because no matter how hard things were, no matter how hard they had ever been, I never would’ve thought that possible.  I never would’ve given up or walked away.  I may not have come from a very close family but I have always wanted that more than anything in the world.  Family to me is something you cherish and fight for.  You hold on to it with all that you have and, when it gets hard, you find a way to get through it together.  You stand by each other’s sides no matter what.  And you come out stronger in the end.  I know that my daughter’s father believes that he did all that he could.  But I also know that he didn’t.  I know that there are times he became angry with me when all I needed was to be held.  I know that when I poured my heart out in an effort to re-open the lines of communication, he put a wall up around his.  Maybe that’s just his way of protecting himself.  Of making this all easier on him.  But I just don’t know how to shut out love that way.

The thing about writing a blog about relationships is that everything is there in black and white.  It’s like having photographs to remember the past.  I have re-read the blogs from when CC and I were dating.  Over and over and over again.  And I can not believe how incredibly happy we were.  How we just meshed.  I’m reminded of a man who communicated his emotions to me like no man I’d ever met before.  And I look at him now, so hardened, so unfeeling.  And I don’t recognize him.  I don’t recognize us.  And I imagine that’s the same way he feels about me.  When I read about our relationship past, it’s hard to believe it’s the same people.  So when he tells me that he feels we never had a good relationship, despite the fact that I know it’s not true, I can understand how he could feel that way.  Because it all just seems so long ago and like a dream.  I had the most incredible love.  I had a love that meant falling asleep in each other’s arms on the couch because we couldn’t bear to be apart.  A love that meant doing things for each other even if they were out of our comfort zone.  I had the kind of love that I hope my daughter has one day.  And I wish with everything that I am that I could teach my daughter about that kind of love first hand.

I wish that she could grow up seeing her mother and father kissing in the kitchen while making breakfast.  Tickling each other while cleaning up from dinner.  I wish that she could see that, even though we sometimes fight and disagree, that love is strong and worth fighting for.  The last thing in the world I would ever want is for my daughter to grow up in a house full of fighting.  But I believe that nothing is black and white, good or bad.  There is always gray.  There is counseling, there is church, there is real, no-holds-barred communication with each other.  There is so much more that her father and I could have done to make our relationship work.  To find that incredible love again.  And in my heart and soul, I know that if we just worked at it, we could be a family.  But I can’t do it alone.  I’ve turned to the church.  I’ve prayed.  I’ve allowed myself to be vulnerable to him.  But it will not work if I’m the only one trying.

CC has told me to just move on.  And I have tried.  But everything changes when there’s a child involved.  Dating isn’t so innocent anymore.  Every one you talk to, you have to think, is this someone I would one day want around my child?  Is this someone I would one day want to be an influence in my child’s raising?  There is no bringing someone back to your place for the night.  Because your daughter is asleep in the next room and you would never in a million years bring someone you don’t know like the back of your hand into her home or around her.  Because you just never know.  Because the most likely person to abuse a child is a significant other.  Because the thought of even having a cup of coffee with someone other than her father makes me want to vomit.  I don’t know how to just let go and move on from something I believe so strongly in.  I don’t know how to give up a fight for something that I know is right.  I’m not a quitter.  I wouldn’t have survived half of the things in my life if I was.

In my life, I see so much separation and divorce right now.  It’s like an epidemic and I am at a loss for why suddenly, especially at this time of year, a time of family and miracles, so many people are just throwing in the towel.  A friend of mine recently talked about the current technology making everyone expect instant gratification.  That no one wants to or knows how to work for anything anymore.  We get everything we need at the touch of a button, delivered to our phones in our pockets.  So when one counseling session doesn’t make a dent in our problems, we think it never will.  We think the situation is hopeless and it’s time to just move on.  And we can move on as easily as taking out that same cell phone and putting up an online dating profile.  I know I did.  I went on to the same site where I met CC.  I looked for him.  I knew he would be on there.  I never did find a profile for him but he found mine again.  And, after having told me time and again to move on, he couldn’t believe that I had a dating profile online.  And I thought, it was two years ago, right around this time, that we found each other on that very site.  And I believe in fate.  I truly do.  I believe that things happen for a reason.  And I think, what a way to truly start over.  If we could message each other on the same site we met, go back to the same place we had our first date.  And find those sparks again.  Remember who we both used to be before things became so complicated and jaded.  I do believe in fate but it will only take you so far.  Fate will lead you to where you’re supposed to be but we have to act on it.  That’s what free will is all about.

And so, I sit here, half the day already gone, still not out of my pajamas, with a million and one things to do today.  And I will do them.  Because I want my daughter to have a home that’s not filled with boxes, with room to play.  I want her to have a mother with the energy to focus on her completely.  And because, when she’s with her daddy, I have to pump to make sure she has breast milk when she’s away from me because I believe that is what’s best for my child.  And I would do anything in the world to give her what I feel is best.  I have said before that I would walk through fire doused in gasoline if I thought that it would fix her family.  If I thought it meant all being together around her Christmas Tree.  She is learning to walk.  And last night, she held his hand in one hand and mine in the other while she walked.  She had both of his hands and dropped one and took one of mine.  She brought us together in that moment as a family.  My daughter is so incredibly smart and could teach us both so much about life and love and what’s truly important.  I watch how quickly she grows and I see how short life truly is.  How each moment passes just like that.  And I think, when we waste even a minute of our lives holding grudges or holding back “I love you”, we are wasting so much.

To the father of my beautiful, strong, determined and inspiring little girl, I love you.  You’re not perfect.  You have hurt me and disappointed me at times.  Just as I have you.  But I love you.  Love doesn’t mean perfection, it doesn’t mean things will always be easy.  It’s not always explainable or easily understood.  But when you have it, you hold on to it with everything you have.  Because some people go their whole lives without ever feeling what we did.  I have opened my eyes to my own flaws and I’m a work in progress.  I always will be.  But I’m getting there.  I pray that you will one day do the same.  Because family never fails.

To My Daughter, With Love

This has been one hell of a year. Recently, it hasn’t been in a good way. In fact, as I think about what there is to be thankful for this year, I can think of quite a few reasons not to be.

So far, the second half of 2013 has been riddled with heartache, fear, confusion, loneliness, sadness; I wonder if I’m leaving anything out. Having gone from being part of a family in a two story home to being a single mom in a two bedroom apartment isn’t exactly something to put in the Holiday Newsletter. But then, I peek into that second bedroom, where my little girl is sleeping soundly. I watch the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. I take a deep breath of my own, taking in her scent (and that of the diaper pail). And I’m reminded that I have everything in the world to be thankful for.

My life certainly isn’t what I expected it would be right now. But it’s still incredible. I have this amazing little girl who loves me like I’m the greatest thing in the world, a blessing I had given up hope of ever having. And, as I write this, I’m watching her on the monitor as she sleeps. And I’m at peace. Whatever other challenges or disappointments life has thrown my way (and will continue to do so – that’s life), when I look at her, everything is right in the world.

It’s so easy to look at what we don’t have. To want more. To feel we deserve more. And sometimes, we’re right. But we should never let that make us forget the blessings we do have. My daughter has opened my eyes and my heart in ways I never thought imaginable. I hope she never loses her happy and determined spirit. And I hope I’m able to teach her the value of the small things in life and of appreciating all she has.

To my daughter, with love,

I’m thankful for:

• Your incredible smile that is contagious beyond words.  Never lose that zest for life.
• Your laugh that lights up a room brighter than every star in the sky.
• The kisses you surprise me with.
• Having a successful breastfeeding relationship with you despite some early challenges.
• Being a strong enough woman, mentally, physically and emotionally, to have stuck with something that was so important to me.  I hope that I’m able to pass that trait on to you.  Never give up on something that means everything to you.  Always believe in yourself, even when it’s hard.  Especially when it’s hard.
• The way you snuggle into me while sucking your thumb when I let you watch Sesame Street.
• The way you clap your hands whenever I first turn on music.
•  A warm bed to sleep in.  Some people, even children, don’t have this.  Don’t ever take that for granted.
• Food on our table every day.  One day, I will teach you my secret sauce recipe.
• Clothes on our backs and shoes on our feet.
• Family that, though they drive me crazy, is there in a pinch to pack my moving truck. Yet again.  Your family will always be there for you, no matter what.  You can and should always come to me with anything and everything.  There is nothing you could ever do that would make your family love you any less or turn their backs on you.  That’s what being family is all about.  Being stuck like glue.
• The way you giggle when we dance to Stuck Like Glue by Sugarland 🙂  Your daddy and I once danced to that song at a concert.  You’ve always loved it.
• New days full of opportunity.  Treat every new day as a fresh start.  Leave any anger, frustration or disappointment from the day before behind you.
• Life. Messy, unpredictable, difficult but so rewarding.
• Friends who are there when it matters and the ability to accept those who fall short for who they are.  Not everyone will treat you the way that you treat them.  Accept people for who they are.
• the intelligence to know that not all who smile at you have good intentions or your best interest at heart. Pay more attention to people’s actions then their words.
• Memories of incredible love and a heart full of hope for the future. Never lose hope.
• Sunsets.
• Fluffy snow.
• Cozy blankets.
• Peppermint.
• Hot chocolate.
• Peppermint hot chocolate.
• Good books.  I hope your love of books continues as you grow.  I hope to one day share some of my favorite books with you.  And that one day, you will read to me about Gerald the Giraffe.
• My permanently distorted belly button that, while no longer perfectly adorable, reminds me that you and I were one once.  Love your body always.  It won’t be perfect but it will be beautiful.
• Photos – both having them to remember special moments and being able to take them and help others preserve their special moments.  Find something you love to do in life, that takes you away somewhere magical.  And do it.
• Healing.  We always do.  Some wounds, physical or emotional, take longer to heal than others.  Allow yourself that time.
• Our innate, incredible ability to constantly change and grow.
• That perfect pair of panties and matching bra that make you feel like you can take on the world. You will understand this many years from now.
• Drive thru windows without which, I would miss many meals.
• Autumn leaves and teaching you how they feel and how to make them crumble.
• Seasonally scented candles.
• Pandora Radio
• The way you always calm when I sing to you. No matter what.
• The feel of your hand in mine.
• Naps.  I know that you hate these right now.  One day, I promise, you will yearn for them.
• Camera phones that enable me to take endless photos and videos of you.
• Any night that involves more than a four hour stretch of sleep.
• Johnny Depp. Now and forever. One day we’ll watch Benny and Joon together.
• Bubble baths and wine.
• Long, aimless drives.
• Midgetville.
• Strong female country musicians.
• Karaoke.
• Dessert.  Sometimes its okay to eat before dinner.  Or as dinner.  But only if you learn to eat your vegetables sometimes too!
• Today. Right now.  This moment is what life is all about.  Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed.  Enjoy the right now.  Make the most of every moment.  Forgive those you care about, love those who deserve it, try new things, smell the roses.  Live life to it’s fullest.  Right now.
• 

  Silly time with my girl ❤

   

  

 

Poop. The whole poop. And nothing but the poop.

Let me start off by saying that I love being a mommy. It’s the best job I’ve ever had in my life, despite the long hours, lack of state mandated breaks and highly demanding boss.

Now that I got that out of the way, let’s be honest; being a mommy (or daddy) can be pretty shitty sometimes. Literally! Before you have kids, everyone tells you that dirty diapers aren’t as gross when it’s your kid. They’re liars. Every single one of them. It’s part of a conspiracy really. Whether it’s your kid, someone else’s kid or your great Aunt Sue’s Depends, it’s still cleaning up someone else’s poop. And it’s still horrifyingly disgusting.

If you are a parent, you know that babies have a wide variety of poops. And I’m not talking about the changes from breastfed to table food, etc. I’m talking really impressive feats of poop.

THE-UP-THE-BACK-POOP

So your kid hasn’t pooped in a day or more. Not unusual. You give them prunes or pears to get things moving. Now stand the hell back! Because they will move. Up the back, onto their shirts, under the armpits, into their hair. It’s a poop massacre. That shit is everywhere. Literally. And how do you get a poop covered onesie off of a kid without making a bigger mess? (No, seriously, I’m asking. If you have the answer to this I will love you forever.) As you open the diaper and stare in awe and fear and try not to let the disgust show on your face, telling the love of your life “good job!” as you try not to throw up, you realize your kiddo is genuinely proud of that shit. They smile, grab their feet like they’re in yoga class, roll around, laugh and babble. That’s the greatest shit ever. Or maybe they’re just laughing at us for being the ones who have to clean out.

THE-DOWN-THE-LEG-POOP

This is really just a variation of the up-the-back-poop but it’s one I’ve recently experienced for the first time. And it does, indeed, deserve a mention of its own. Instead of exploding out of the back of the diaper, this sneaky shit weasels it’s way through the leg opening and goes all down your beautiful babies leg. And, subsequently, all over everything your lovebug comes in contact with before you figure out what happened.

THE-WALL-ART-MASTERPIECE

This is for those shits that are so impressive, you have to hang them on the wall to truly appreciate them. Somewhere between five and seven months, your innocent baby will discover their genitals. And become fascinated. Beyond words. Hey, I know some adults who would touch themselves “down there” all day if it were socially acceptable. At some point, your little angel is going to explore sticking his or her hand “down there” while they have a little present waiting. It may be during a nap or during one of the explosive diaper changes where their hands are faster than yours. But, without fail, they will proudly paint you a poop masterpiece on the wall. Let’s be clear about one thing: this is not artwork you want to frame or hang on your fridge. This is shit. Literally.

THE-NEVER-ENDING-SHIT

So kiddo hasn’t “made” in a few days. Maybe there was a new food involved but, suddenly, your bundle of joy is squatting and pushing with all of the determination you did during childbirth. And making the same noises, too. You think, this is a big one!! Only to get in there and find a thicker than usual, tablespoon sized poop stuck to his/her butt hole. And this process will continue throughout the day. You will spend your day rubbing his/her belly, pumping legs, feeding prunes and cheering on their popping efforts. “Yay!!! You think you can! You think you can! Yay poopoo!!!” It’s not one of the days you’ll wish you could catch it all on film. And you hope you stocked up on diapers in time. If this happens on a day you’re down to your last three, well, you’re shit out of luck my friend.

To be fair, every job comes with it’s own unique shit. And few bosses melt your heart the way your kid does. Even while they’re painting shit on the walls.

I’m a Mommy

I’m a mommy.

I don’t always find time to shower every day. Sometimes a toothbrush and deodorant have to suffice. My hair dryer is collecting dust and, while my hair has grown beautifully long from my pregnancy, it is almost always piled on top of my head to avoid pulling, etc. And because I just don’t usually have the time or energy to do it. I have traded in my skinny jeans and heels for sweatpants and flip flops most days. My latest fashions come with clip-down straps instead of designer tags. And they are almost always covered in spit-up by the end of the day. I haven’t watched a full TV show, uninterrupted in months and movie theaters and restaurants have become mostly foreign to me. My child has started sleeping through the night but I am still awake every hour – checking that she is breathing. I wake at every sneeze/cough/fart/thumb-suck. I eat most of my meals standing up or driving or while playing with musical elephants. I hear the song from that musical elephant everywhere. I don’t entirely remember how to hold down an adult conversation that doesn’t include the words “poop” or “nipple”. I hear phantom crying while in the car/shower/backyard/supermarket. I have had to pack away 80% of my clothes and buy a new wardrobe, two sizes larger than my pre-pregnancy clothes. It took me weeks to actually figure out what size I am because trying on clothes with the baby with me is like Defcon 1 and is, therefore, impossible. My previously rock hard booty is now slightly saggy and adorned with stretch-marks. While I have the desire to work out, the time and energy to do so are simply fantasies. My house has gone from neat and organized to a state of almost constant disarray.

Silly time with my girl ❤

I’m a mommy.

I am beautiful without silky, blown-dry and straightened hair. My skin glows from the inside out with love, nurture and pride. I am filled with so much love that my body simply cannot contain it inside. I have traded in my compulsive shopping for the latest fashions for compulsive shopping of clothes I am comfortable in and allow my child comfortable and easy access to nursing and snuggling. I have learned that, more important than the clothes on my body is my body’s ability to provide my child with life, vitamins, nutrients, immunity and love. I have worked through raw, cracked, bloody and painful breasts to provide this benefit to my child. And I would do it all again in the blink of an eye. I’m strong and now my child will be too. I don’t miss my TV shows. I’ve replaced them with teaching my daughter how to get that crazy little elephant to turn on and play music all on her own. Instead of filling my time with make believe lives, I now fill my time with helping another life to thrive. I’m a teacher; Of language skills, smiles, laughter, cause and effect, motor skills, social skills. I teach trust, love, healthy-sleep habits. One day I will sleep through the night again. And I will miss the days when my little girl was so little and would wake me up, needing to be close to me. So I cherish the middle of the night feedings, where she looks up at me and smiles, holding on tight to my finger. If my old clothes never fit me again, I will find comfort in providing them to someone who desperately needs clothing on their back. My new body is incredible just the way it is. That body grew and brought forth life. It nourished my child, enabling her to be able to survive on her own and become her own, independent person. Every new wrinkle, sag, pound is a symbol of the irreplaceable bond between my daughter and I. A bond no one else will ever have with her. A bond that means more to me than the size printed on the inside label of my jeans. I do not have stretch marks. I have tiger stripes. They are a symbol of my strength as a woman and mother. They are a symbol of my greatest accomplishment in my life, now or ever: My child. One day, they will fade. But my love and pride will remain strong. As for my house? That disarray isn’t “mess”. It’s love, knowledge, fun. When my daughter grows up, she will not look back fondly on how clean or spotless our home was or wasn’t. She will look back fondly on the memories we’ve created spending time together, being silly and snuggly.

I’m a mommy. And I’m beautiful and so is my life. You’re beautiful too, mommy.