mindful morning

On a perfect morning, I wake her up. At first she struggles to pull herself out of her dreams. She tries to put her head up, but finds it too heavy and falls back to the mattress. She smiles while she does this, like it's totally amusing. I sing a little song. We chase away the little stars and we shine away the moon.

First hugs, then diaper change and time to nurse. Then I feed her cereal and I eat my breakfast at the same time. She thinks it's very fun to eat together. She chomps her food extra funny when she sees that I'm also chewing.

Then I wash her face and do this funny thing where I sniff her cheeks. I tell her that she "sniffs good". I have been doing this since the beginning. After I get her dressed, I brush her hair. She has amazing hair. It's still very short, but it is an unbelievable texture. It's the thickest baby hair I have ever felt.

While I do these morning baby things, I abandon all thought. I do the things, I enjoy the things, I don't look at the clock, I don't engage in discursive thought. It is the only time of the day when I am not on another planet. It feels very good to be with my daughter, but it feels even better to be with me. Not the me of the future or of the past. Not the me of desires and plans. Just me, having a small brush with reality.

Coda

After being exhausted, sad, and dirty all day at school, coming home was a relief.

The first thing I saw was Ramona's smiling face. I held her and said "I'm sorry, Baby". Holding her face in my hands and saying those words felt so good and right. I know a lot of you think I did nothing wrong, but in my heart I believe I did, so apology necessary. Brian made tacos and we all sat down together and healed.

Afterward, everyone took turns having a nice hot shower/warm soothing bath.

Ramona went to bed sweetly with no problems like she always does. Ironically, she slept through the night. But that's fine, tonight she won't, and then she will, and then she won't. Everything as it was. I'm still looking for answers, but I'm looking for the gentle answers that are bound to come slowly.

The three of us have been through a lot of discomfort in the last couple days. I'm not here to say I'm a good mom. I'm not here to say I'm a bad mom. I'm learning and unlearning every day that my family is my comfort. I'm learning that Brian and I will make/are making mistakes, but if we all keep listening to each other we will be able to find what it is we need. I'm finding my way in the dark. Finding my footing slowly.

Last night felt good. We all got the rest we needed. The newly fixed hot water washed away the despair. We found comfort and forgiveness.

upside-down, inside and out

It's never as bad as you think it's going to be.

Unless it's worse.

Last night Ramona woke at 11:00 and I decided not to nurse her or rock her back to sleep in the hopes of teaching her to self soothe. We held out for a long time. She cried without stopping for an hour and 15 minutes. Up until that point I was holding steady, but when we started to go into that second hour I lost my nerve.

But it wasn't over yet. By that time she was so riled up from crying that it took me two hours to finally get her asleep and in her own bed. Did you hear that last part, "in her own bed"? Yes, I finally let her sleep with us. That is a line I never cross. I will go round and round with her, but I never give in that far. But last night I was so ragged, tired, and guilty that I just caved.

I fought a losing battle from 11 to 2. I went one step forward and countless steps back. She and I are both haggard from last night. We are both distrustful. All was not forgotten this morning. Usually she wakes in the morning, drinks a little milk and then is content to snooze in her crib until I'm ready to get her ready. This morning when I tried to lay her back down she started to cry, just like the night before. And so I carried her around the whole morning. Feeling guilty, feeling tired.

I know I'm really beating the beleaguered mother drum, but I also had no shower. When I attempted to step into the ice cold water I realized my plans were lunacy. You can't take a ice cold shower in winter.

My plans are lunacy. And today I look as bad as I feel.

laundry day

Our day began on a happy note, with Ramona sleeping in. We had some very fun plans to go play with family today, so I was feeling very optimistic about the day. No chores, just fun. But, Ramona spit up her milk all over my bed. Did I think "Hmmm....that certainly was a lot of spit up" or "Woah, that was a bit projectile." Nope. I just started a load of laundry.

Then during a long phone conversation with my sister I begin to suspect that Ramona was having some diaper issues. No joke. She pooped something silly and she needed to have a bath. I would like to note here that at this point in the day I have had to change my clothes twice and now I have some seriously poopy clothes to wash. Load number two.

I know that you all out there are reading this thinking "dear god woman, your child is sick, duh." But I just didn't want to see it. It wasn't until Ramona threw up all over her changing table that I realized, "woah, someone's sick."

So, here I am. Down to my underwear, around me the stinky laundry is piling up, and I am rocking my baby when I realize something profound, "I make her feel better, she is clinging to me like a monkey because I make her feel better. As much as I love my mom, Ramona loves me. And as much as my mom loves me, I love Ramona". Oh friends, I realize this is stuff that moms should already know. But I'm someone who needs to learn things over and over again.

After a lot of holding, some more puking, and more holding, it seems we are out of the woods. Now I begin to attend to my poopy, pukey laundry. But I do so with a renewed sense of honor and joy.

future illness

I have a sickness that I've recently come down with called Look-Forward-To-The-Distant-Future-itis.

I'm excited about Ramona being one. I can't wait to see her take some steps...outside. I CRAVE playing outside.

I am looking forward to not dragging a huge car seat around. Infant car seats are insane.

I have been constantly thinking about how neat it will be to not have her on the boob all the time. I have been craving the freedom that will come with weening. No more pumping! But also, I'm sad and I'm actually doubtful that she and I are going to be able to make this transition.

I am looking forward to baseball season with a zeal that can not really be expressed. The Royals were a lifeline for me during my maternity leave. They gave me something to follow that had nothing to do with myself and a daily event to cheer me when times were hard.

But, here it is, it's January. It's still a long way out.

What I have is a gift, and it's happening now. When she is five and fifteen and forty I'm going to think about her smallness and her newness and it's going to make me hurt from nostalgia.

the snow is always whiter...

Well, in fact, the party was not over. I went back to work for one day, and then the snow and Arctic cold rolled in. So, I got a bonus week with Ramona. Yay, right? Yeah, sort of.

I turned to Brian last night and said, "It feels like I've been taking care of this baby non-stop for three weeks". He replied, "That's because you have".

Last week I was really sad to be going back to work. I had a lot of fun over break. My house was pretty clean, I cooked a good dinner almost every night, and I was with Ramona constantly. I was sad because I didn't realize how much happens in a day with her and how much I had been missing. When I'm at school it all goes really fast. The day zooms by. I rush home, pump milk,feed baby, eat frozen pizza,play with Ramona and then it's bed time. It's all so fast. It's also easy to get into a really good rhythm and be pretty darn pleased with how well your family's life is going.

Oh friends, baby time is S-l-o-w. Her day is spent pulling up, grabbing toy, try to walk, fall....repeat.....repeat....repeat....repeat. And on the days when she is agreeable to taking a great nap in the afternoon, I feel like this is the greatest job on earth. But try to take my two baby free hours in the afternoon from me and I become a character from a story about a horrible, mean mom.

And the WORRY. I actually told Brian a few days ago that I'm really nervous that she has no interest in learning to clap, and that we are going to be "working" on that. Oh my god, I do not have time for this kind of crap when I'm working my full time job. I am just happy to see her clean and happy. I don't stress over the minutia. I'm just pleased to be with her.

I can't decide what this means. Is my child raising herself? Have I been stupid to be so content? Now that I have spent three weeks (and I really need to add that the weeks have essentially been snow bound) actually caring for my child, I am filled with worry. She isn't learning to self soothe at night. She is a horrible nap taker. She doesn't clap! I don't tell her No! I am a god awful mother.

While I'm working on sorting this stuff out for myself, I am also trying to get my mom on the phone, because I think her grandgirl would really like to spend some time with her.

baby's first christmas

Three days before Christmas I went to get Ramona from her bed and immediately felt the heat rising off her.  Thus began my week of fever fighting.  Ramona's first seven months were fortunately illness free, but it couldn't last, eventually all kids get sick.  It was a mystery illness, no accompanying symptoms to go with the high fever.  Our doctor, to my horror, began to suspect meningitis.  Thank goodness it wasn't that, it was nothing, but it was a rough three days of baby tending.  Christmas was on hold.  Family parties cancelled. 

But, Christmas miracle style, Ramona woke up healthy and happy on Christmas morning and had a lovely day.  She opened presents, hugged dollies, dug through stockings. Family members have filled our house with Way Too Many Toys.

Ramona's three days of fever were like traveling back in a time machine.  Back to our maternity leave.  Back to momma tunnel vision.  Back to a baby that always seemed to be asleep, but at the same time always needed me.  But also, back to the sweetness of a baby who wanted to cuddle and nurse all the time. 

This week Ramona and I are enjoying her health.  We are playing with her piles of toys.  We are getting out to see friends and family.  But most importantly, we are paying attention to each other.

On New Year's Day Ramona will be 8 months old.  It seems amazing to me.  She is amazing to me. 

what you missed

Here's a quick recap of the week. All would have been blog-worthy.

Wednesday - Baby and Mama's first snow day. Ramona and I had a lovely day. We got nothing done, but we wore two layers of jammies and (sshhh....we watched tv a little).

Thursday - Got cold feet. Then put the darn socks on and shut up. Tomorrow I'm taking the plunge. Realize I will be taking it again and again. Here's to all of us that are daring to unwrap ourselves.

Friday - Became sick. Took the whole day off and sent baby to day care. I spent the whole day sleeping. Sometimes I would wake in starts because I thought I heard Ramona cry. The day was weird......good weird.

Saturday - Still sick, but determined to carry on. Took Ramona to see SANTA. She put her head back and stared into his face. We got her off his lap right before she pulled the glasses and beard off the poor guy. I hope she stays like this forever. Loving, daring, ready to look Santa straight into the face with no fear. Sometimes I can't believe she came from me. Then Brian and I took her Christmas shopping. For the first time we put her in the front of the cart and she had a ball. She was smiling and kicking her feet and acted like we were in some kind of holiday baby parade. Sheesh....I love that girl, I love that girl, I love that girl.

a little book chat, plus some extra noodling

I'm still a little fuzzy from our long holiday weekend. We really like to follow a consistent path; Ramona, Brian and I. Being away from home for all those days really threw us for a loop.

Ramona had so much fun, more fun than I thought a 7 month old baby really could be expected to have. She totally got the idea of it being a holiday and she really lived it up. She is going to LOVE Christmas. Ramona was so wild by Saturday night that I had to finally give in and let her sleep with us.

My house feels like a disaster, my blog neglected, bills unpaid......on and on it goes. Glad to be home and glad to begin the process of putting it all back together again.

So, for the sake of normalcy and coming back to daily life, I'm going to do my (new) Monday night routine of chatting about the books.

I want to talk about Pam Munoz Ryan. She is my new favorite author. I have written about Paint the Wind several times. A few weeks ago I read Becoming Naomi Leon. I don't think it is as epic as Paint the Wind. (After Ryan wrote that one she probably sat back and thought "Well....that's the best I can do.") I bet a lot of my students would relate to Naomi's story. She's a young girl, living a perfectly fine life with her great grandmother and little brother in a close knit trailer park. Everything is going great until her train wreck mother comes into the picture and starts messing things up. Many of Ryan's protagonists are Latinas and in the story Naomi travels to Mexico to escape her mother. While there, she gains a new confidence from reconnecting with her family and learning the honored family tradition of carving.

On a side note, every book I have read by Pam Munoz Ryan gives a little shout-out to breastfeeding, which just delights me. It's unheard of to mention something like that in a book for 4th and 5th grade students. I like to think there is no such thing as "girl books" or "boy books", but who am I kidding, Ryan's books are meant for young girls to enjoy. I think it's sweet and appropriate how Ryan will put a mother nursing her baby in the story as scenery. No big woop, just a mama and a baby. She describes this just as lyrically as she does a tipped over pot, tortillas cooking on a grill or a wild desert flower.

of mice and mamas

~The best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry

Walk into my house. You will see that I left the coffee maker on (sorry, Brian, I know that scares you). You will find that I left my coat, and Ramona's, on the chair. There are various poopy baby items, half heartedly washed out, all over the bathroom. Clothes are spilling out of the dryer. The baby tub is still full of not clean water. Destroying my home was not the plan for the morning.

I am in the middle of parent teacher conferences and I'm spending a lot of time away from Ramona. So, instead of getting to work very early like I usually do, my plan was to get there on time and spend time playing with Ramona.

The trouble started with us sleeping in. I have a No Alarm Clock policy. If Ramona is going to sleep in, by god, I am too. So, instead of using our time to play, we slept. Whatever. Sleep is good too. Anyway, it's becoming scary late, and I still have her playing on the floor and I'm finishing getting everything together when I hear her poop. This actually doesn't surprise me, it's a daily occurrence. It's sort of like "ok, everyone use the restroom one last time before we go!!".

My acceptance of the last minute diaper change switched to panic when I discovered we were dealing with a full scale blow out.

Ramona ended up in the tub and the look on her face cracked me up "mama! I'm in the tub!! Look, you accidentally put me in the tub!!! Ha!!".

The rest of the morning was like some scene out of an 80's movie about how hard it is to be a mom, or a dad trying to be a mom. It was nuts.

Best laid plans....

nice and easy

I'm not the mom I thought I would be.

I was someone who liked research, discipline, and being consistent to the point of being inflexible. Ask the first graders I used to teach. They will tell you.

I read a lot of books about how to train babies before Ramona came. And sometimes I sneak onto the internet for advice and beg friends for baby lessons. But, I hardly EVER follow it. We all do this I think. We all re-invent motherhood for every baby that appears in our nest.

I have found that I like to take it nice and easy when it comes to Ramona. Recently I let some of my mothering indiscretions slip around some much revered mother friends. Women that I have been mentored by in my career and personal life since I left college. When I admitted my uncertainty about using the "cry it out method" I could feel their disapproval. I felt ashamed, but also rebellious. I came home and said to Brian, "I'm not ready, Ramona isn't ready, I'm going to go get that girl every time she cries!". Now, when I get up to get Ramona at night, I don't feel tired and unhappy, I feel like I'm eating candy for dinner. Chocolate cake for breakfast!

But their advice crept in and I've been making adjustments. I've been dealing with Ramona's napping problems, and I've been teaching her to be comforted by stuff that is not The Boob. But it's been slow. S-L-O-W. And there has been a little crying, but not a lot. This is working for me and it's working for Ramona. So, for now, it's nice and easy, but also slow and steady.

Sunday Afternoon Book Review - Llama Llama Red Pajama

Last year I bought Llama Llama Red Pajama by Anna Dewdney for the library. It's a cute book, but definitely more appropriate for babies and toddlers. I'm not going to pretend that Ramona really has preference when it comes to books and music, but I love reading this fun, sweet book to her.

And more than that, I love "playing" this book with Ramona. "Ramona, no more of this llama drama, please be patient for your mama!" "Mama kisses baby's hair, Mama Llama goes downstairs." I find myself saying the rhymes of this book constantly.

On a side note though, what is with Mama Llama's clothes? She wears a dress with a ruffly collar, an apron, and pearls! Is this what Anna Dewdney thinks mamas look like? I love that the characters are llamas. What animal is sweeter or cuter? But I wish the llama mama was wearing a sweat shirt or perhaps a nursing tank.

I knew I was good for something!

My school is “remaking” itself into a more high achieving learning environment and part of this has been a lot of serious study of ourselves. It has been pretty painful. I feel like I’ve been asked a million times what my strengths are. I could go on and on about my weaknesses, but lately I feel like I have no strengths.

Yesterday I was behind the bookcase in my office, pumping the milk, and I was thinking about things I could do to keep Ramona (and me) sleeping longer at night when I realized that I really like solving problems. It’s what I love best about kids. With kids you can begin anew each day. You can influence their environment! You can give them more attention, you can remove that negative stimulus, you can do 20 minutes of alphabet flash cards, you can put them in a different place in the crib! You can fix them!

This is what I loved about teaching first grade. There were many Fridays when I went home feeling like I wasn’t going to be able to go on, that if the kids kept not learning, talking over me, throwing chairs…..whatever…I was done with teaching. What always happened was that over the weekend I came up with a brand new system and Monday morning went about fixing the problems of the room. I feel the same way about Ramona. I feel like I get kids. I know when to apply the pressure, I know when to stick to my high expectations, I also know when to let go, and I know how to love. This filled me with a moment's delight. My strength is that I try hard and that I love kids, my strength is that I know when to let go and love.

meanwhile...back at the baby

Today I noticed that while I've been busy slugging it out with this god awful month, Ramona has grown a lot. While I gossiped and lamented with fellow grownups, let my driver's licence expire,watched my car break down, and got sick, Ramona has grown another month older.

She has begun to eat solids, she can roll around on the floor, turn herself on her tummy in her crib, and sit up without help. She grabs things with her hands! She splashes and swims in the bathtub!

She did this all with sweet, diligent practice. Calmly ignoring her crazy mom.

she shines pretty darn bright - aka Buddha Nature

In class, we were once asked to explain the difference between unattachment and indifference. I couldn't do it. I knew I wanted there to be a difference, but I just didn't understand. Now I know. Ramona is delightfully unattached. I drop her off at daycare. She smiles, I leave, she smiles some more. She holds something soft and wonderful in her hands, it goes away, she moves on. Does she love stuff? Oh yes, very much so. But she doesn't know how to hold on.

Every morning after I feed Ramona she puts her head back and stares at the room like she has never seen it before. This morning I gave her a big kiss on her softie baby cheek. She gave me this lovely happy/surprised look. Like she had never had a kiss in her life and it quite delighted her. "mommy, did you make that up?! Kissing!!" If I ever doubted that the purpose of life is to be happy, I believe it now.

This makes up for the fact that we have backtracked a bit in the quest to sleep through the night. Ramona has devoted her nights to diligently practicing turning over. She's doing it in her sleep and then waking herself up. This bugs me, but it has also inspired me. I wish I felt so driven to practice.