Overnighting

Well, I did one of the hardest things that any mom has to do.

I left my baby overnight for the first time.

My husband and I left Alexander with my parents so that we could enjoy a nice night out for our anniversary. No big deal, right? WRONG…it’s a huge deal. This is yet another thing that I didn’t understand before my son was born. I knew moms who didn’t leave their kid until he or she was 3 or even 4 and I, deep down, thought that was ridiculous. Turns out, not so much.

I tried to reason it out…my parents are crazy about him and would give him even more attention than we do…he goes to bed insanely early and wouldn’t even know if we came back to get him…we weren’t going far at all and should anything happen, we would be able to get to him in ten minutes, flat. It all made sense in my head. But, in my heart, I just felt selfish. It wasn’t as if I was leaving him to go in the hospital or to take care of an urgent family problem or attend a funeral. No, I was leaving him purely so I could enjoy a night out. Surely this was wrong and bad mommying defined.

Before we dropped him off, I cuddled Alexander extra close. I told him that I loved him and that we would be back for him. I told him that I would miss him. I told him not to cry. And as we climbed back into our car with an empty car seat, I felt sad.

Even though we had a great time, we were so ready to see him the next morning. Was he excited to see us? Not so much. He barely looked up from the new toy his grandparents had bought him. And, when he did deign to acknowledge us, it was casual, off-hand, almost as if he was saying, “Oh, hey…did you guys go somewhere?”

There is nothing like being appreciated.

The Target Lullaby

You see them every time you walk through the doors of Target, Publix, Wal-Mart, Chick-fil-a and the mall: Parents and cranky children.

You say to yourself, “Why don’t those people just keep their kids at home? If they are going to come out to a public place and cause such a disturbance, they shouldn’t be out in the first place.” You stare at them. You shake your head in disgust. You think that you would NEVER do that because, clearly, people who do that are just crazy.

Obviously, you don’t have children.

And, obviously, you don’t know the golden rule of parenting a cranky child: when all else fails, leave home.

I am not sitting on high saying that I knew this rule myself before Alexander came along. On the contrary, I was among those looking down my nose at the frazzled mommy pushing a whining baby in a shopping cart. I was an “I know better than you” witness to the toddler having a tantrum in the frozen food aisle. I was the disgusted fast-food diner wishing the yelling kids in the booth behind me would just leave.

Then, I got a kid.

And I found out the hard way that there are days that no amount of cajoling will make a 7-month old take a nap. There are times when the same silly song that has been sung a million times will not produce a smile. There is a point when that favorite toy or even a comforting bottle cannot stop the crying. These are desperate times. And you know what they say about desperate times. That’s right folks: it’s time to just get the heck out of the house, before your child spontaneously combusts and the people in white coats come to take you away. At this juncture, staying home, not going out, is the crazy choice.

And, as I found out myself earlier this week, there is something about driving into the Target parking lot and buckling your baby into the cart that causes the panic to dissipate. Walking through those welcoming automatic doors seems to bring a peace not only to you, but to your over-tired child as well. And when you catch the eye of another harried mom with a couple of kids in tow, there is a feeling of solidarity. You are not alone.

If you are very lucky, your child will take a long nap upon arriving home. Who cares that that nap cost you the $60 you spent at Target! That is money well-spent.

So, no longer do I wonder who these crazy women are who take their kids out when they are obviously not in a happy place. And that, my friends, is because I am now, proudly, one of them.

The Moment We're In

The summer is flying by and I don’t know where it’s gone. The days that passed in a numbing sameness during the winter are now a dizzying array of chaos and motion. Since Father’s Day we have had…

1 Vacation Bible School
1 mission trip
1 sinus infection
1 July 4th weekend at the lake
1 root canal
1 allergic reaction
2 out-of-town visitors
1 well-baby visit to the doctor

And in between all of that, Alexander has been growing and changing right along with the flowers planted on our back porch, and if I don’t make myself notice, that just fades into the noise around me. He’s now sitting up and crawling and noticing everything. It’s as if he is an explorer and nothing escapes his notice. And watching him watch the world makes me see everything with new eyes also.

It’s sometimes difficult with everything going on to just stop and see and be. But Alexander (and probably most little ones) is a pro at this. He is totally in the moment and, to him, nothing will ever be better than the moment he is in. Even as I enjoy him, I’m constantly going forward to the next moment, the next summer thinking, “Next summer, he’ll be walking. The next summer we’ll do swimming lessons. Maybe by the next we’ll do Disney World.”

It’s in those moments that my boy pats my face as if to say, “Hey, Mommy…I’m right here, right now. And nothing will ever be better than the moment we’re in…you and me, sitting in the porch swing, watching the flowers grow.”

Daddy Day

Yesterday was all about Dads.

And, not to begin a repeat of my Mother’s Day musings, but this year it was different, both as a daughter and the wife of a father.

I’ve never been a big card person; I find them ridiculously overpriced and, most of the time, sappy. But this year I found myself trolling the card aisle of Wal-Mart reading card after card and getting a little misty. The cards talked about admiration, love, and pride. They talked about happy memories and shared tears. And I nodded my head in agreement. Yes, these are all things I feel for my Dad. This year, I bought not one, but three cards.

Because, standing in the card aisle at Wal-Mart, I remembered my dad helping me with my math homework because he’s good at it and I’m terrible. I remembered him sitting through countless dance recitals and piano recitals and choir concerts and plays just because I might have a tiny solo or one short line or was simply up there performing. I remembered the Christmas he gave me a Les Miserables poster that he had walked through the New York City rain to get for me, just because it was my favorite show. I remembered the time during my teenage years that he came up to my room, pulled up a chair, and gently told me to stop giving my mom a hard time. I remembered how he found the safest place for me to live when I wanted to move to New York, and got my mother up there as soon as possible after September 11 because he knew I needed her.

Mostly, I thought about his relationship with Alexander. He loves that kid so much. He’s already talking about all the things he’s going to do with him: take him to the lake, go feed the ducks, give him ice cream, take him to McDonald’s for pancakes. He (and Mom) would spend all day, every day with him. Dad gives bottles, changes diapers, and makes silly voices all for Alexander.

And now, I know. I know how much he always loved me. Not just because I am a parent now, but because I see how he loves my baby. And I know that love didn’t just come from nowhere. It came from loving me and my brother our whole lives and now there is a new little life to love. It is a wonderful thing to see.

Something that definitely deserves a card.

Reflections From the Other Side of the 5am Bottle

Now that Alexander is almost 6 months old, he is all about go go go. From the moment he wakes up in the morning, he is looking around, watching everything that is going on in the world. He is so curious.

Gone are the days of copious cuddling.

This makes me sad.

In the mornings, I used to give him his 5 am bottle right as my husband was leaving for work. Many times, he would fall asleep during the bottle and the two of us would snuggle together on the couch, often not waking again until it was time for the 8 am bottle. It was so sweet, so special, those little moments before the sun came up when it was just the two of us.

And as much as I complained about getting up so infernally early, a part of me knew that I would miss it when those days were passed. Before I knew it, he was sleeping until 7 and then he was ready to go. No more snuggle time. No way…Alexander has toys to gnaw on, things to look at, and lots of rolling around to do. He is growing up, right in front of my eyes.

Philosophically, I know I should be happy…he is confident, secure, and he knows that I will be here for him. He doesn’t feel like he needs to cling to me. Part of successful parenting is helping your baby be independent.

Not to say he won’t have clingy moments…I certainly hope he runs to me when he falls down or when he is hurting…but, for now, he’s ready to explore the world more and more each day. He’s ready to figure things out. He’s beginning to develop the skills that will guide him through life. And I am happy about that.

But, I would love just one more morning snuggle.

Mommying is a bittersweet thing.

We Loaded Up the Truck...

Every Memorial Day, my family goes to my parents’ lake house. It’s always a fun-filled, relaxing time when we eat great food, watch moves, cruise on the lake, and just spend time together.

This year promised to be different with Alexander.

I decided to head down to Lake Martin early with my mom and dad and spend a week, baby in tow. Sounded great…have some help with the baby, a change of scenery, and, most importantly, people EAGER to change diapers. And it was great.

But, as I mentioned in an earlier post, when going anywhere with a baby for even a couple of hours, you have to take a lot of stuff. Multiply that stuff times 7 and you have how much I had to take. The following is a list of just some of the items I packed…just for him!!!

1 pack and play
2 pairs pajamas
1 ExerSaucer
1 bottle of baby detergent
1 Play Gym
1 pack of diapers
1 baby bath tub
8 bottles
1 stroller
1 extra large can of formula
2 sleep sacks
20 jars baby food
2 pack and play sheets
6 bibs
1 CD player
10 burp cloths
4 CDs
10 toys
15 outfits
2 towels
3 sleeping gowns
2 types of organic/non-toxic cleaner for toys
6 body suits
1 bottle lotion
1 swimsuit
2 boxes of wipes

You should have seen the back of Dad’s truck after we got everything packed and covered with a bright blue tarp…we literally looked like Jed Clampett and the family moving to Beverly (Hills, that is). We told my mother that since she was “Granny” she should just sit on top. My dad rolled his eyes when he saw it all sitting in my living room, waiting for him to load…but we really did use everything I took…and, I ended up doing 4 loads of laundry!

We had a lot of fun over the week…and Alexander got lots of attention. And, now, the piles of stuff that stood so organized and orderly in my living room just a week ago, are scattered around my dining room, waiting for me to put them away.

Can I please go back to the lake????

Happy Mother's Day!

Yesterday was Mother’s Day. I won’t say I’ve always appreciated my mom the way I should…there were the typical dark days of teenage-dom when I believed she knew absolutely nothing…but in the past few years, I have come to respect and admire her.

But it wasn’t until I became a mom that I could truly say I appreciated her. I can honestly say that she was the finest example of motherhood and that she is who I model myself after. Here is why:

She was never too busy for us. She could always make time to read or play. I never remember her ever saying that she had something more important to do.

She played with us. She, my brother, and I would play for hours doing things like playing kickball in the yard and taking walks.

She encouraged imagination. My mom could give us a comb covered with wax paper and suddenly, we were in a parade. Or she could throw a quilt over some chairs and we had a fort.

She was silly with us. My mom could stand on her head, or make up funny songs, or read a book with lots of different voices.

She was proud of us. Both she and my dad were our biggest fans

She disciplined us. There were times when she wasn’t so proud of us and she encouraged us to do better.

She never degraded our dreams. She never told us that there was something that we couldn’t do.

She loved us to bits and we knew it, but she never let us disrespect her.

She, and my dad, gave us roots and a great family.

But, when the time came, she let us go.

I hope when Alexander is all grown up, he can look back and say the same things about me.