"Good night, Mom"

"I love you, good night baby."

"I love you too, good night Mom."

That "Mom" is me.  Is it weird that I am still caught off guard by "Mom" used in reference to myself?  It's been 3 years, 2 of those with verbal affirmation from the child herself that yes, I am "Mom".
As a kiddo I saw my Mom as having it all figured out.  I didn't doubt her motives and I assumed that it was all just second nature to her.  It may have been.  I certainly don't feel that way.  I feel like every day is another parenting challenge met and then, after she's in bed, I sit and question all the Ro-related choices I made and criticize myself into vowing that tomorrow I'll do better.

I know I'm not alone.  I imagine it's the nature of motherhood.  There's that word again, "mother".  It carries so much weight.  Heavy, hefty, loaded and smothering weight.  Aren't I just a child myself?  No?  I sure don't see myself as a 'grown up'.  But aren't grown-ups the only sort of people who can raise kids (I just snorted a little)?

I might need to take a philosophy class to sort it all out, this is getting intense.

One a Day in May

Another  blogger made a list of thing to blog about.  Specifically one for each day in May.  If you wanna play too, here's her site:
http://fatmumslim.com.au/hey-its-may-photo-a-day-come-and-play/

Day 1: I BOUGHT THIS!

Yeah, so that's my second born.  You could say we bought her, she cost upward of $700 dollars.  I suppose what we actually bought was an experience and peace of mind.  I got tests, appointments and all the staff I could possibly need to birth and then hang out at a fairly comfortable hospital.  All things considered, she was as screaming deal.

Minimalist Baby?

Our Luciana was born April first.

The short story is: I labored for almost 48 hours (pre-labor stuff, really), labored hard for a few hours and the last part was quick and dirty.  I had a some meds in the beginning in an attempt to let me rest a bit (pre-labor=48 hours on nearly no sleep) and then I wanted meds desperately in the minutes before she emerged.  They don't do that though.

I learned a lot with Rosanna as an infant.  Well, let's be honest, the learning hasn't stopped just because she's no longer a human blob of neediness.  That learning came in handy this time 'round in the form of: I don't need all the things I was sure I needed.  There is a stigma that having an infant=having tons of extra stuff.  Not only that, but you need to carry this stuff with you all the time.  There's a long list of items I believed I needed as a new mom with Ro, and for the most part I got them.  So very much of it turned out to be unnecessary.  That's why I nearly snorted in disbelief as I sat next to a pregnant mom at the Babies'R'Us registry counter and listened to the clerk advise that her registry have a minimum of 200 items on it.

So here's my list of can't-do-withouts and items I'd 'pass' on.  My suggestion is to register for the things you are really certain you need and ask for gift cards.  That way all of the other stuff you can get when you discover you could really use it, instead of assuming.  Because having a baby is like no other experience you can even imagine, so why do we think we'll know what we need to deal with it?

PASS: (these are biggies don't get freaked out)

Diaper Genie - Seems like a good idea.  We used ours, but in reality the regular trash works just as well.

Crib - For our family it was used maybe 5 times.  We're co-sleepers through and through.

Bottles - Our kid never took to them and my boobs were much less work.

CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT:

Nipple Shield - Saved my breast feeding experience.  It's hard at first and it hurts like a motha (well, it did both times for me).  I would've given up if not for them.

Swaddlers - My babies went into a coma when swaddled.  Hooray! And no, it's not because I swaddled them too tight.

Boppy Pillow - I'm sure other breastfeeding pillows are good too, but I've only had a Boppy.  Saves my arms & my back when nursing or even just holding her while she sleeps.  Love it.

Pacifier - I didn't want to go there, I really really didn't.  I saw using one as a cop-out, a weakness in my parenting abilities.  Then I had a kid and got over it.  I know not all kiddos will take one, but both mine have and it's kept me sane a time or two.

Ring - I switch it back and forth to remind me which side I nursed on last.

So, for reals, I keep a nipple shield, swaddler, boppy and pacifier with me at all times.  I don't actually take the Boppy out of the house, but it moves from room to room with me.  Aside from the obvious diapers and clothes, there is nothing else we've dug out and used for Luci.  It's pretty awesome.

Do you have anything you'd add to these lists?

Naming

Talking about her name insights more real excitement than most other conversations that I can have about this life brewing inside me.  It's a piece of her that can exist outside of myself.  I can say it out loud and it will be that same name when she is born.  It's as if I can have a piece of her now that can be shown and shared, like maybe I am already getting to know her a bit.
Naming her also makes her inevitable presence in our life more real.  She's not just a phantom idea or a big 'ol belly.  It allows her to take up space.  It allows us to get used to her a bit before her scrunched up face becomes all we want to look at for awhile.

Rosanna's first moments

Tantrum, at long last

So we had our first 'real' tantrum today.  It was gonna happen, as today started out sketchy and just kept on that way until the end.

Pre-tantrum we had a morning of furrowed brows, snappy comments and the whine-factor was high.  I braced myself because I knew this would be a no-nap day and we already seemed to need one.  Both of our social events went well, shockingly; it was the in-between times that got our patience muscles some good practice.

We were in Target.  I told her that she could choose one thing from the dollar bins.  She waffled, she asked for two things, she finally chose a purple plastic cup.  As we wandered on through aisles of crap we really wanted and didn't need, she re-employed the snotty voice and stinky attitude.
Warning number one: lose the 'tude or lose the cup.
Response: I want my cup!
Rebuttle: Great, I want you to have your cup too.  Please change the way you are speaking or we will put it back.
Fast forward 60 seconds.  Snotty McSnotterson is at it again.  My worst nightmare happens: follow through.  OK, I say, let's put the cup back then.
Oh, man.  It's on.  Tears, big fat heavy tears.  Screaming about how she wants her cup.  Me: holding the cup in one hand and wrangling the writhing child as she tries to escape my intentions to scoop her up and replace the cherished cup.  I was THAT person.  All eyes on me.  My kid screaming about a dumb purple cup, me trying not to drop her, my bulging belly not helping one iota.  I chose not to look around, not to make direct eye contact and I could see them watching me.  Reinvented screeches as the cup actually makes it back to it's home, piled with other purple, blue and green cups.  Pleading and promises of her new found attitude blocking out all other sounds.
Wow, I think, this is shitty.

Again at bed time, we had a similar incident.  Warning, continued pushing of the envelope, consequence.  Melt down.

Now she's asleep.  I wish I felt relief, and I do a little, but I feel more like I want to hug and kiss and cuddle her.  To have her tell me that the crappiness that happened today was perfectly handled and any other response wouldn't have helped her along the path of being the best person she can be.  I feel in my gut that this is true, or our house wouldn't operate this way.  It doesn't make my heart feel less heavy though.

Musings from behind the belly

I seem to have more value to the general public when I am pregnant.

I'm sure you (others who have come before me) have had this same experience, it never fails to amuse me.  In large part, I gladly accept the extra fawning and added care taken to accommodate my blossoming self.  Other times I just think it's silly and weird.

Early the other morning, as I walked up the street to meet a friend to go for a walk, a gentleman (who knows me) asked what I was doing out "in my condition".  I smiled and told him I had to, "keep this body movin'!" and as I continued on my way thought, well what the heck am I supposed to do?  Stay indoors?

Another time I was working (a job that essentially requires me to sit and wait for people to make a purchase) and asI went to stand and add up a lady's treasures, she was horrified that her actions were making me have to move.  Note to world: pregnant does not equal crippled.  I can, and appreciate, and opportunity to move about and get my blood moving around.  If I didn't, it certainly isn't *insert customer here*'s fault that I am choosing to work and therefore must stand up and punch numbers on a calculator.

I've noticed too that pregnant ladies are nearly on the level with saints as a virtue of being pregnant.  I get smiles and high quality courtesy that doesn't exist as a woman with a baby in the breathing world.  I can do no wrong and all of my woes are of extreme importance to passersby.  If only this love extended beyond the belly and into the (in my opinion) more challenging realm of hauling that sucker around manually.

'Tis a funny world :)

Emotional vomit

It's either pregnancy or I'm just a bummer.

I feel on the verge of crying half the time and I have to talk myself into being patient with Rosanna like it's a chore.  I don't want to have the same "I don't want to close my eyes" conversation every freaking night.  Especially when I've never, not once, told her she has to.

Watching her tonight dance around to the music on the credits of a movie I thought to myself, "this won't last forever.  Soon enough she'll be too self-conscious to be silly".  That made me sad.  She was so joyful.  She jumped and flitted and fell and laughed herself into hiccups.

Right now I'm questioning my place in this house.  How much of my responsibility should I expect to shift as a result of my "condition"?  So far it would seem that zero of it will.  Be prepared for this place to become the sty of a pig upon the arrival of #2, I don't really see any way around it.

And on a final random note, how is it so danged warm outside?  I don't own warm-weather maternity clothes and I am certainly not going to go buy any just for a few weeks of my life.  This was an unexpected turn of events and I'd really love it if I could get four more weeks of chill.  Fingers crossed....