A photo journal comprised of my thoughts on motherhood and other life happenings, as well as some of professional work as a photographer. Southern California is home.
Hungry for fashion? Well here’s a special edition of mamas & tykes, featuring some adorable vintage outfits that you may just wanna take a bite out of. Here we go. Little ladies first…
I thought our days of pureeing may be nearing an end. He refused his morning mush for Willy and refused the next day again for me, but this morning it was back to normal. Here’s what Hooper’s been grubbin’:
I also added some Flax seed. These purees save me. I’ve shared some of my feeding Hooper struggles in my new series “Hooper Eats”. You can read the first post, from last week, by clicking here. I’m not sure how I’d get him to eat such a variety of fruits and vegetables if it weren’t for the purees. For a whlie, the only fruits he liked were raspberries and strawberries. He used to be a blueberry fiend, but from time to time he’ll simply throw them on the floor. He refused to even try peaches or bananas up until the other day. He ate part of a kiwi once and threw the rest on the floor. And the only vegetables he’ll eat are carrots with ranch dressing and frozen peas and corn. Everything else he spits out. Oh my beloved purees, please stick around just a little while longer.
pssst… Your two clicks away… Would appreciate your vote for Top Baby Blog by clicking on the brown icon to the right. You will be redirected to another page where you click on the brown box above the owl and voila!, that’s it. Much love 🙂
I love being a mother, I’d never stray too far from that statement. I have been candid about the fact I think caring for a newborn is ridiculously difficult and I’ve shared my worries with bringing another child into the world when things with the first seem so calm and settled and enjoyable. Not for one second do I think raising these little rascals will always be peaches n’ cream. I’ve shared my feelings about the yin and yang of life, touching on motherhood being about moments in time and perspective. For the most part, I stick to the love story of raising Hooper but surely there are rough patches, exhausting times, and moments where I’ve wondered if I did everything I wanted before having children. It’s only normal, in my opinion. That’s why I practically shit my pants laughing so hard when I read about a segment on the Today show where a blogger turned author discussed what she’s coined “Mommy Confessions”. Some of the confessions are brutally honest, others are just down right funny. Here’s some confessions she shared:
I confess that most days, I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing. Everyone thinks I have it all together — good wife, good mom, successful career — but I really don’t. I’m ready to stop pretending to be perfect now.
I tried for seven years to get pregnant and now that I’m a mother, I wonder whether it was all worth it.
If I have to watch Barney one more time, I may have to stick a fork in my eye. Actually, then I’d get some attention. Maybe not such a bad idea.
I sometimes try to get sick, just so I have an excuse to go to sleep at 6:00 p.m.
I joined a gym just for the free day care. I drop the kids off and read magazines and blogs in the locker room.
I pretend to be happy being a stay-at-home mom but sometimes I feel like I’m slowly dying. I cry every night in the shower. This isn’t what I thought it would be.
I kiss my young teenager good-bye in the morning as she leaves for school, rising above the hormone-fueled snarling and histrionics. Then I close the front door and flip her off, with both hands.
I miss the career I gave up more than I miss my son when I go to the grocery store. But I always get to go back to him.
Hidden in the pantry in a box labeled “flour” is top-of-the-line chocolate and a few joints. I rarely resort to it, but it’s a comfort knowing it’s there.
Here’s some of her “Mommy Manifesto” that also had me rolling and nodding in agreeance at the same time:
I shall maintain a sense of humor about all things motherhood, for without it, I recognize that I may end up institutionalized. Or, at the very least, completely miserable.
I shall not judge the mother in the grocery store who, upon entering, hits the candy aisle and doles out M&M’s to her screaming toddler. It is simply a survival mechanism.
I shall not compete with the mother who effortlessly bakes from scratch, purees her own baby food, or fashions breathtaking costumes from tissue paper. Motherhood is not a competition. The only ones who lose are the ones who race the fastest.
I shall shoot the parents of the screaming newborn on the airplane looks of compassion rather than resentment. I am fortunate to be able to ditch the kid upon landing. They, however, are not.
I shall never ask any woman whether she is, in fact, expecting. Ever.
I shall not question the mother who is wearing the same yoga pants, flip-flops, and T-shirt she wore to school pickup the day before. She has good reason.
I shall never claim to know everything about children other than my own (who still remain a mystery to me).
I shall hold the new babies belonging to friends and family, so they may shower and nap, which is all any new mother really wants.
I shall strive to pass down a healthy body image to my daughter. She deserves a mother who loves and respects herself; stretch marks, dimples, cellulite, and all.
I shall not preach the benefits of breast-feeding or circumcision or homeschooling or organic food or co-sleeping or crying it out to a fellow mother who has not asked my opinion. It’s none of my damn business.
I shall try my hardest to never say never, for I just may end up with a loud mouthed, bikini-clad, water gun–shooting toddler of my very own.
I shall remember that no mother is perfect and that my children will thrive because of, and sometimes even in spite of me.
Honestly, all the excerpts are worth posting. You can check out the article yourself here. Definitely a good read.
Pregnancy has such an effect on your view of time. It goes so quickly some weeks and so slow other weeks. As I entered the 8th month, I started to fool myself into thinking I’m almost there. But the reality is that I still have 7 to 9 weeks (remember, I reluctantly plan on a 40-42 week gestation), which seems like a daunting amount of time. And if one more person comes up to me and asks, “Any day now?“, I may just go ahead and sucker punch them. The other nice folk that grab me a shopping cart when they see me, my pregnant belly, and my 18 month old coming toward the grocery store door can stay my friend, and thus avoid the sucker punch.
I’m feeling good this week. I feel incredibly lucky to have what other’s refer to as “easy” pregnancies. I’m sleeping good and am relatively comfortable most days. In fact, I’m usually at a loss for words when someone asks how I’m feeling. The question seems to suggest that I’m suffering from some ailment but more times than not, I simply feel pregnant: Larger than normal and tired from time to time. I guess I should thank my lucky stars tonight.
As a sidenote, I’m in love with my new necklace. It’s from Etsy seller Julie Garland Jewelry.
I’ve made no secret of the fact my child is a picky eater. I’m a picky eater too, so I hold myself responsible. That’s probably why my patience takes longer to run out than Willy’s. In any case, the food has to be the right temperature, the right consistency, familiar, and there needs to be a balance between too much distraction and not enough distraction. It can’t be a distraction that draws his attention away from the food, rather it has to entertain him while we shovel food into his mouth. Sitting for long periods in the highchair doesn’t fair too well these days. We have about a five minute window whether he likes the food or not. After that window of time closes, he’s off to the races and we’re left chasing him around with his next bite of food. Which he’ll eat, by the way, it’s just he’s more interested in playing than eating. What’s that you say? Typical toddler behavior? Typical shympical, feeding this boy is d-i-f-f-i-c-u-l-t.
I’m always looking for new things for him to try and I’m always planning his meals to be sure he’s eating a balanced diet. And while I think I do a good job of having him eat well from each food group, I think I fail in the variety category. Which leads me back to the always looking for new things for him to try mantra. In any case, here are some meals I’ve made him as of late and proof of the highchair struggle.
See how sweet he looks in the picture above. This photo was taken within that five minute window I was talking about. Nonetheless, he’s wasting value time within that window because he’s obviously not paying any attention to his food. I made him pretty tasty french toast too. Anyway, here’s what happens when the five minutes are up:
Note Willy’s arm holding him down. It’s of no use, really. I’m not sure why he even attempts to stop the inevitable.
This last picture is really the one that tells the whole story:
Note Willy with his head turned toward the TV. He’s watching golf or basketball, I assure you. Note the food on the fork: mac n’ cheese with peas. This is one of Hooper’s favorites. Note Hooper with his head thrown back and an already been chewed pea and some slobber on his chin. Yes folks, this is what I deal with. I often feel like the naughty school master with a ruler in my hand, one foot perched on the chair, yelling at Willy to concentrate and at Hooper to eat.
Some pics from the zoo a few weeks ago. Hooper really liked that duck until it nibbled his fingers // We found a flea on Sarah and gave her a good flea bath followed by a homemade mixture of lemon and rosemary. So far, so good. And please note the similarities between Sarah and the goat pictured above her // You scream, I scream, Hooper screams for ice cream. And can you blame him? Nothing beats Baskin Robbins. And yes, Hooper still directs us via pulling. And yes, Willy’s still working on his tattoos. I swear he’s going to run out of skin soon // Hooper’s new room is coming together. I have plans to switch him over next week. Dun dun dun // Willy’s bringing his mustache back. This means random packages will be coming to the door with various waxes to curl the ends with // Hooper touching the plant after waving his hands over it and proclaiming, “nooooo”. He knows he’s not allowed, the little guy just can’t help himself // Hooper in his vintage Zips. Man, I wish he’d never grow out of these. I want a pair for myself // A day at the beach. I hope to squeeze in many of these in the next few weeks // A few photos from Hooper’s 18 month appointment, where I learned he has yellow teeth and likes band-aids // Our friend Lisa gave birth to a beautiful little boy on Mother’s Day. Talk about the perfect gift, right? He’s small in stature, but as alert and as wiggly as can be. It was a pleasure to meet him and photograph him this week. Talking with Lisa and watching as she held her little peanut in her arms made me feel capable and excited for our own addition that seems just around the corner at this point. Thank you Lisa for making Motherhood look so lovely, your boys are beautiful.
The other weekend I had the pleasure of escorting myself to a local flea market, where I had a glorious time. Here are my finds:
I am in love with that little vintage pillow. I got the whole back story about where it came from too, which is always a bonus. The back has lots of stains, so I’ll be asking my lovely mother to take it apart and add new fabric to the back (note to self: learn how to sew). I also bought some trim to add along the edges. I’ll be sure to share the final product. I found that gorgeous turquoise ring within steps from the entrance and I snatched it up instantly. Sure, it’s already broke but when I repair it and give it another life, it will be making my long skinny fingers look gorgeous all over again. And perhaps my biggest splurge was on that danish bed set. But isn’t it perfect? I missed it the first time I walked down the aisle and happened to be strolling back that way and boy am I glad I did. It’s about the same as I was planning to spend on a new twin bed and it’s larger and will last Hooper throughout his childhood. It’s stamped by the Furniture Guild of California. The man that sold it to me was as sweet as could be and even brought it out to my car and loaded it for me. I repaid him with a fresh squeezed orange juice. It was a good day.
Mama: Oh how I am absolutely positively over the moon in infatuation over this b-e-a-u-tiful maternity dress. I dream of the day it mysteriously lands in my closet. I think it would be perfectly paired with these shoes and this simple turquoise ring. Swoon swoon swoon, my heart is nearly skipping beats.
Baby girl: I need a girl for no other reason than to dress her in this adorable little dress. Aside from dressing my hypothetical girl, which granted only happens for the first year before she starts having opinions of her own in regards to what she finds fashionable (yes, I admittedly insisted on wearing white cow boy boots with everything, including spandex shorts and my brownie uniform), I’m just fine with having two boys. I’d pair this little dress with these lovely orange sandals. So sweet.
Growth: Over the past few months people have started to refer to you as tall. We always knew you would be tall based on the fact your Papa and I are both tall, but you’ve become quite the bean sprout as of late. Here are your stats from your 18 month appointment: weight 24lbs 11oz (30%), height 33 inches (70%), head 18 7/8 in. (60%). I’m reminded that all kids grow at their own pace and am encouraged to leave the stress of worrying about your weight, or your brothers weight, behind. Whereas most kids drop weight percentile at your age due to the “thinning out” phenomenon, you’ve gained. You are on your own growth pattern and that’s fine with me. You’re still in a size 4 diaper. Your PJ’s are size 18 months, but you appear to be growing out of these any day now. You wear a size 5 or 6 shoe.
Teeth: You have 15 with one more due any day now, though I’ve been saying that for what seems like months. Those bottom canines have been little white caps since your 17 month recap. The bottom right has come through, but the left still appears to be bothering you from time to time. One more to go. I believe you have all the rest of your teeth, with the second year molars next on the list. Dun dun dun.
Favorites: Your Papa loves stealing kisses from you and will stop at no end. His latest attempts involve bribery by way of putting a raisin in between his teeth and having you eat it out of his mouth. Hopefully he doesn’t mind me sharing with the public that he does with you what many 13 year olds are doing at parties in closets. I somehow doubt even you want to know about these shenanigans of your father’s, but at this age, I have to admit it’s pretty sweet to watch and I’ve been known to put a raisin or two in between my teeth as well. Your love for the trash bins has evolved to now listening for the trash truck, pulling on one of our shirts, directing us to the front door all the while proclaiming “kah”, “kah” (“truck”). You are into books more than ever before. Your favorite is “Hooper Humperdink” by Dr. Suess. It’s about a little boy named Hooper, who is a party pooper, and is not invited to a party. It’s kind of a mean story, but ultimately Hooper is invited to the party so I guess all ends well. I had no idea this book even existed until one of your Papa’s co-workers mentioned it after you were born. One more person with your unique name. Too bad he’s a party pooper. Oh, lets not forget about the broom and other janitorial items. Those still rule your little world. You could spend all day outside and are constantly yanking one of us toward the front or back door. You love to take the car keys and climb into the drivers seat to play with all the buttons and pretend to steer the wheel. Your are developing a love for cars or “gongs” as you call them, constantly riding your vintage playskool giraffe or speedster around the house. We’re contemplating buying you a motorized power wheels. I’ve been checking craigslist for a good deal on a used one. You may just get lucky one of these days.
Sleeping: See that guilty little look on your face in the picture above? You have that little grin because of the socks in your hand. For whatever reason, you love taking your socks off when you wake up and you obviously think this is something that poses a problem. FYI, I have no problem with you taking your socks off. Get on with your barefoot parties. You’re still the champion sleeper and I suppose you always will be. We’re debating transferring you to a toddler bed but are unsure whether giving you that freedom is the best decision. You are perfectly content in your crib and we’re hestitant to create a problem where one doesn’t exist. But, with your brother on the way, we’d like to avoid buying another crib. I’m pushing for the big boy bed, I think it’s time. While we could brag about how good of a sleeper you are until we’re blue in the face, the truth is that you sleep well in your crib or in your car seat. Otherwise, you’re a horrible sleeper. You have yet to be that toddler that falls asleep anywhere and in any position. You have to be confined in crib, otherwise you are too easily distracted and will keep going and going and going. Sometimes I wonder if you would ever fall asleep if your crib magically disappeared. Oh yes, I realize I’ve never discussed your bedtime “routine”. I hesitate to call it a routine because it takes all of 5 minutes. Anyway, since you finished breastfeeding, it has been your Papa’s job to put you to bed. He changes your diaper and puts you in your jam-jams after a nighttime session of tickles and giggles. Papa always has you rolling in laughter on that changing table. When your clean and changed, he brings you out to me. I give you a kiss and you go back to your room with Papa. He throws your blanket over his shoulder, you put your two fingers in your mouth, you rest your head on his shoulder, he sings you “hush little baby” and to bed you go.
Development: You love designating things as your own. Often you will pretend to hand us a toy or some of your food and then just as we’re about to grab it, you’ll pull it back and say “me” with the cutest little grin on your face. It’s a grin so cute that the fact you are being an Indian giver doesn’t bother us. You’re also repetitious. You like to play the “me” game over and over and you like to read “Hooper Humperdink” over and over. You have made the transition from not sitting through a whole book to asking for books to be read from the beginning just as you get to the end. You have a longer attention span and will sit through as many YouTube videos as we put on for you. Your favorite YouTube videos are: “If you’re happy and you know it”, “Hickory dickory dock”, “Five little monkeys”, and anything by the Wiggles. You follow most directions, demonstrating that you know all about the things in your environment. You still like to think of those who love you as your personal slaves; you are the dictator, we are your enslaved soldiers. You pat the ground exactly where you’d like us to sit to read you a book. You grab at our clothing until we follow you wherever you want to go and do whatever it is you want us to do for you. I see the tantrum throwing stage around the corner, but at present you are still relatively easy to redirect or distract. You have become incredibly sociable and love being the center of attention. You draw people in instantly with a came of peek-a-boo. On the flight back from Maui, you initiated a game of peek-a-boo with a nice lady across the aisle. She had you giggling so hysterically that people a few rows up were turning around to see just what in the world was so dang funny. You could barely catch your breath and you stole that woman’s heart instantly. You’re very adaptable and out-going and seem to make friends easily. You have quite an array of facial expressions and a very likable personality. The fact you like doing leg kicks helps your likability as well. Again, following in the footsteps of your Papa. You like nothing more than watching yourself in the long mirror as you kick your left leg up into the air and giggle. You also have a lot of pride in the fact you can go down a step by yourself. You like to do this over and over with a grin that shows you’re overflowing pride. You think you are pretty rad. You have quite the sense of humor and your beaming confidence still looks stellar on you.
Feeding: The days of eating in your highchair are at a standstill. Even if it’s food you like, or what you call “yum yums”, you can only sit for a short period of time. You stand up, throw yourself at your papa or I and the rest of your eating is done “on the run”, so to say. I have a sneaking suspicion that in light of this highchair reluctance and with your brother’s arrival just around the corner, the days of enjoying meals out as a family are on hiatus. With that said, you’ve been much more agreeable with what you eat. You’ll try more things, but don’t appear to like much of what you try. I always try reintroducing things that were previously refused and sometimes you’ll give it another try and other times you won’t. Your favorites seem to remain the same: berries, scrambled eggs, cheese, yogurt, deli meat, chicken nuggets, mac n’ cheese, raisins, peas, corn. You like avocado off and on, same with sweet potato and carrots. Your Papa has been getting in trouble lately for leaving his nighttime cookies out on the coffee table. It’s a momentary tantrum every morning when you awaken, pitter patter those little munchkin feet out to the main room, and discover Papa’s cookies that I don’t allow you to eat on the table. The other morning I transferred them to on top of the kitchen table only to find you climbing onto the table to get them. You are indeed a cookie monster. Like father, like son. Now is probably a good time to let you in on a little secret: When we put you to bed, we stay up late eating cookies or ice cream and watching movies. We thank you for this time. If you had the ability to read and conceptualize this, I’m certain you’d never go to sleep again.
Talking: The world has become a picture book. You are quick to point out all the things you are aware of in your environment. You say too many words to keep track or record of and you exhibit understanding of other words you have yet to use. Your favorite words are “baby”, “quil” for squirrel, “done” and “gone”, “kook-E” for cookie, “wellow” for yellow, “gong” for car, “ka” for truck, “ba” for bird or plane. You also are fascinated with the world above you and love to point out the moon, stars, planes, helicopters, birds, ceiling fans and lights. Just as with the brooms, your love for planes has shed light on just how many planes there are flying over head at all times. We were at the park the other day and in a five minute span I think we saw at least four planes. You know the sounds a sheep, cow, and pig make. When we ask you what a skunk says you wrinkle your nose as if smelling something bad. It’s the cutest. You still like to mimic us by saying “noooo” before touching something you shouldn’t touch or eating something you shouldn’t put in your mouth. You love to wave your hands over Sarah’s food bowl while looking us in the eye and saying “noooo”. Then you proceed to put the dog food in your mouth anyway. In any case, at least you know what you’re doing is wrong. And yes, you still love dog food.
Upcoming: I bought you a potty chair. I have no expectations for you being potty trained anytime soon, but I figure we’ll keep it in the bathroom and start talking about it. You have good knowledge of what “ca-ca” and “pee-pee” are, but I doubt your ability to actually do it in the potty chair at this point in time. You do enjoy sitting on it and you also enjoy taking the potty part out and putting it on your head. Probably better that it has yet to be used. We also bought you a full sized bed that is set up in your new room. We have a guard rail attached but have yet to take the leap to transitioning you over to your new room. I’ve started to take you in there daily to play so that you are used to the room. We’ll also be working on refining your teeth brushing skills. The pediatrician called your teeth “yellow” and I won’t have any part of that. So yes, shitting and pissing in a hat, sleeping in a real bed, and brushing your teeth correctly. Add those to your to-do list, okay? And please hold off on being able to open those closed doors. It’s so nice to block you out of a room by simply closing the door. Stop trying to make my life more difficult with all your developmental milestones, okay?
Oh yes, one last little surprise. I’m totally behind on sharing these little videos, as they are already a few months old. Not sure why I procrastinated, uploading to YouTube has proven to be a breeze. But anyhow, enjoy these little videos of you dancing. You still love music and beg, always, for the Ipod or record player to be on.
I had an appointment with my midwife this past week that seemed to confirm that this little boy has dropped. Her eyes grew large when she proclaimed, “he is down in there”. And trust me, it feels like he is nestled in tightly. I told Willy the other day that it feels like there is a bunk bed party in my belly and everyone is partying on the bottom bunk. I’m measuring a bit smaller but am still within normal limits. She thinks this is because the baby is so far down. Heartbeat is great and he moves like crazy.
I’m moving past last weeks post, where I shared many of my worries surrounding becoming a mother to two under the age of two. I needed to make those worries known before I could move on from them. I’m feeling much more capable this week and want to thank those that reached out to support me.
His name is Mark and he’s a camera and he doesn’t even belong to me. It’s amazing how quickly you can turn on an old friend. From the moment I handled Mark for the first time, I took my Canon Rebel (who has been with me for going on 8 years or so) and spit on it, called it a piece of shit, and tossed it in Hooper’s toy crate. Okay, I’m being facetious. But I’m not lying about the fact I’m in love, with Mark. Mark has been with me for the week and I’ve been busying myself with using him as much as possible in our short time together. In the meantime, I’m proposing a new family addition to Willy who is slowly starting to see all Mark’s wonderful traits. Oh how it pained me to return him yesterday. Here are some shots of Hooper and Sarah, some bath time pics of Hooper, and some of Hooper and his beloved giraffe. I just love pushing Mark’s buttons.
And now for some bath time fun…
And lastly, the remaining shots from the Mother’s Day turn Hooper with his giraffe shoot:
You can check out the first post I did with Hooper and his giraffe here, when he wasn’t quite big enough to ride it but certainly loved pushing it and carrying it. Want a Playskool giraffe like this one? Ours was a gift from my very generous thrift-finding mother-in-law, but this one is available on etsy and it’s in tip top shape!
The jumper from the Hatch Collection is by far my favorite. It can be worn post-baby as well with a waistline belt. Either way, I can’t fathom spending that kinda dough. I’m also smitten with more than one dress from the More of Me Maternity collection. They have me wanting to be pregnant permanently, so you know they must be cute. But, alas, reality hits and I stumble back to my closet to make what I already own work for these last two months.
No matter how many times I come to the realization that Hooper prefers the trash cans to his puzzles, I can’t stop my hunt for vintage toys. Here are some recent finds on Etsy that I’m drooling over.
Hooper and I mosied around some of the local thrift stores last week and scored some great finds. Hooper was such a good shopping partner right up until I made the amateur mom mistake of letting him out of the stroller to play with the Radio Flyer I intended to buy him anyway. It’s like I lost sight of the fact he has no concept of having to pay for things first. He was happy as a clam with that bike until I plopped him back in the stroller and brought the bike up to front to store while I kept shopping. Big mistake. There were tears, oh there were tears. It didn’t help that I put the bike in the back of the car in direct line of his vision, so he continued to cry because he could see it but not touch it. Then I made another mistake of trying to hit up one more thrift store, but we quickly left empty handed once his tears turned into a I just need a nap kinda cry. We went home, he napped, then he woke up and it was Radio Flyer playin’ time the rest of the evening. In any case, we scored some great finds. The vintage telephone stand is one of my favorites from a local collectible store that has so much stuff piled on top of stuff that it was nearly impossible to even bring the stroller in. I had to back Hooper out of that place. It was insane. Seriously, glorious hoarding to the umph degree. I’ll have to bring my gloves and shovel next time I go back there.
Mother’s Day morning started with sun shining through our window and birds chirping. Sounds dreamy, right? It was. Willy rolled over and reached to the side of his bed and handed me a beautiful handmade card with the most lovely words inside.
I felt special instantly. I unwrapped my gift and was pleasantly surprised to be the new owner of this lovely vintage dress (It appeared on my Mother’s Day gift guide here). I added it to my post pregnancy prize pack.
Then I heard the sweetest little “Ma-ma” spoken over the monitor. Willy and I rolled out of bed to find this little monster standing in his crib, ready to go.
We listened to some music while we got ready for the day and headed off to brunch at a restaurant nestled back in the Simi Valley hills with extended family. Hooper wiggled his way from person to person, entertaining everyone with a captivating game of peek-a-boo. When we arrived back home at noon, well past his usual nap time, we put Hooper down. It took him quite a while to fall asleep, but sleep he did. He didn’t make another peep until almost five o’clock. I had the luxury of taking a long nap myself, which I think my body really needed. I have a feeling the baby has dropped as I’ve been having a significant increase in pressure and have since adopted the well-known pregnancy waddle. So yes, it was nice to rest. When we were all awake, we headed to Lowes to pick out some plants.
Willy agreed to take some photos of Hooper and I without any hesitation. Another mother’s day gift. Unfortunately, a little someone did not want to cooperate.
This looks like a cute mother-son photo where the son wants to be lifted up into his mama’s arms, right?
Not the case. He’s crying because he wants to sit in the drivers seat of the car and play with all the buttons and steering wheel. This is his new favorite thing.
I tried explaining to him that today was Mother’s Day and that his mama really wanted a couple nice photos with him.
He then told me that if I wanted photos with him, that I’d have to chase him. So, I did.
And this was the result: Mama holding a crying toddler. Well, I tried.
Even Papa tried.
Nothing worked.
So I took a picture by myself instead.
I snapped a few shots of Hooper on his giraffe (I’ll share the rest soon) and we called it a wrap.
We capped the day off with dinner out, put Hooper to bed, and stayed up and watched a movie. It was lovely.
I have a long list of fears associated with becoming a mother to two and they are compounding one on top of each other in my mind this week. I feel the urge to put them down on virtual paper to expose my vulnerabilities so I can more effectively deal with them and move on. I’ve been more emotional/on edge this week and I think these fears are to blame. So here are the top six that have been floating through my mind these days (listed in no particular order):
1. Energy. Will I have the energy to be the mom I want to be? I’m already anxious about returning to work and that’s not happening for quite some time. I worry about waking up “X” amount of times during the night to breastfeed, getting up at 5am, working (and working hard mind you) on my feet for 12 hours, coming home and eating dinner at 8:30 pm, and having the energy to either do it again the next day or mother a toddler and a relatively newborn baby the next day. I’m exhausted just thinking about it.
I’ve had so much time to spend with Hooper these past weeks. We’ve gone to the zoo, park, play dates, beach, and even Hawaii. We’ve had breakfast dates and picnics in the backyard. If I’m tired, I nap when he naps and we both wake up refreshed. Throw working full time and another baby into the mix and I’m haunted by the possibility of not being able to be the mom I want to be and know I can be. It’s got me pretty torn and emotional these days.
2. Breastfeeding. I know now what I’m up against and that’s good and bad. Good because I know the challenge that awaits and bad because even under the best of circumstances it is nothing short of a challenge. I’m fully dedicated and I place very high standards on myself, which makes it even more difficult because I really give myself no other option than to breastfeed. The dreamy part of me fantasizes about even going past the 12 month mark this time, but I’ll see where I’m at when I get there. I had a lot of supply issues the first time around that forced me to ween about that time, which really was a gift from above because I was more than ready to have my ta-tas back to myself.
Hooper took forever on the boob for the first three months. I’d watch half a movie before he was done breastfeeding in a single session. I’m trying to imagine how that’s going to work with Hooper climbing on top of the kitchen table or potty training or any of the other constant interruptions that require my full attention. I imagine many interrupted breastfeeding sessions which inevitably will lead to those oh-so-painful clogged milk ducts which require warm baths and relaxation and well… you know my response to that: ya freakin’ right. ::deep breaths::
3. Attention. Sometimes I feel like the Giving Tree, which I shared in my Mother’s Day post yesterday. It’s about a tree who gives everything to this little boy. The boy eats his apples until there are no apples left and uses his branches until all the branches are gone and eventually the boy gets older and all that’s left of the tree is the stump. The old man then uses the stump to sit on. So yes, sometimes I feel like the giving tree. I worry that I will be spread so thin trying to be the best mom to two children and the best wife and in the midst of trying to find the time to still care for myself, I worry that, I too, will be nothing but a tree stump for others to sit on.
4. Getting out. This one is less of a fear than the others because I realize this as being more temporary than the other worries I’ve shared. Nonetheless, I’m trying to imagine doing something simple like going to the grocery store with both of my little munchkins. For starters, the car seat will take up the space where I normally sit and strap Hooper which means Hooper will have to walk. Sure, he’s fully capable of walking. Walking is not the issue. It’s the keeping-his-hands to himself that will be an issue. I’m imagining apples coming tumbling down one after another and tomato sauce containers crashing to the ground spreading glass and tomato sauce everywhere. With more access to things, I imagine more tantrums when he can’t have what he wants. I’m imagining chaos and then I’m imagining the solution being to remain at home and wait it all out, regardless of a potentially empty fridge and grumbling tummies. Maybe I’ll start a vegetable garden outside. Ha! See, I’m trying to think positively. I’ll stop here. I won’t even mention going out to eat as a family or taking a plane ride anywhere or even going for a walk with the dog.
5. Time to Blog. This one sounds silly in comparison to the others, right? But really, this blog has become very dear to me. It takes care of my unyielding urge to document and is a wonderful venue for me unleash whatever emotions come up. I feel better, for example, just by writing this post. When I’m away from writing for any length of time I have the same feeling as having a sink full of dirty dishes. This little corner of mine here on the worldwide web has become a way to unload and a way to display all I love and cherish. It also warms my heart to relate to other moms who share my same love and struggles with motherhood. Everyone tells me I won’t have time to do things like blog and I’m determined to prove them wrong. But I’m also determined to breastfeed and be the best mom and the best wife… I’m determined to do a lot. I just hope I’m not setting myself up for disappointment by placing too many expectations on myself.
6. Losing my hair. Yup, in the midst of trying to handle, rearrange, and accept everything on your plate, the post-pregnancy hormones do you no favors. When Hooper was about 4 or 5 months I started losing hair around my hairline by the handful. About a month or so later I started to notice what Willy and I referred to as “grow backs”, little sprouting hairs starting to return. It was bittersweet. Sweet to have the hairs coming back, bitter to have little antennas sticking out everywhere. Today, a year or so later my “grow backs” are about bang length. Anything beats the bald look, really. So yes, on top of everything, I’m worried about my hair falling out. Hopefully I’m not pulling it out myself. Ha!
So there you have it. I would love to hear from others who have shared similar fears and how they dealt with them effectively. In the meantime, I’m trying to remind myself that my way of dealing with impending change is to build it up to be the worst case scenario. That way I tend to be pleasantly surprised when things aren’t as hard as I imagined them to be.
Hope everyone had a wonderful Mother’s Day. I’ll share a recap of our lovely Sunday within the next few days. And many congrats to my friend Lisa who birthed her second beautiful baby on Mother’s Day.
Last year was my first Mother’s Day with a baby in hand. It felt like my birthday. Not because I got lots of gifts, though I did get a few special ones, but because I woke up with that same excitement in knowing that the day was not only special, but special for me. And getting to share the day with all the other woman that make the same sacrifices and share the same struggles feels really special. Mother’s Day has become my new favorite holiday and that little boy just waking now in his crib and that little munchkin fluttering about in my belly are the reasons why. My husband and my boys are my world and today is a day for me to reflect on just how lucky and fortunate I am.
I have a few special little tidbits to share. Interspersed are some of my favorite photos of me and my little guy from his first year. Let’s get started!
An article published in Market Watch determined an average of what stay-at-home-moms would make if they were paid an annual salary for their work. That’s right, stay-at-home-moms check your mailboxes for that annual check of $113,000 for your 95 hours of work per week. Working moms can add $67,000 to their annual salaries for the additional work they do when they come home from work. Score! If only…
Next I’d like to share a wonderful “Letter to Motherhood” written by the beautiful Melissa of Dear Baby. She also writes for Babble and she posted this sweet letter some time ago. I’ve come back to it many times because it’s just so beautifully and perfectly stated. She writes:
What is motherhood but the very best chance to learn what you are made of? It will strip you down to nothing. Make you doubt yourself a thousand times. And it will make you roar with a fierceness you’ve never before seen. It will search your heart for your greatest fears and the bravest of all your intentions and set them out on display.
It breaks you. It saves you. It steals the girl you were. All of her. You’ll never sleep like her or be as carefree as she once was, but she’d never believe the courage or the selflessness she’ll one day possess in you. Motherhood replaces her with someone who understands love on a level the girl you were never could.
It’s okay to sometimes wish you could go back and live a day in her shoes. A day to bask in the decadence of irresponsibility. But if she could look forward: If she could see herself tested, how her fears have been faced, how the question “Am I strong enough to survive this?” is answered with a resounding yes, time after time. She’d feel damn proud to become the woman that awaits her.
Beautifully written, right? I couldn’t agree with her words more.
And lastly, The Giving Tree Movie, spoken by Shel Silverstein in 1973. This has always been one of my favorite books from childhood, but I’ve never been able to fully relate to it until now. Because now, as a mother, I am the giving tree. I feel like gifting each mother a nice big bucket of water to keep their leaves bountiful and their roots growing. So yes, water yourselves this Mother’s day. We all deserve it.
And a special Happy Mother’s Day wish to my own mother who always lends an open ear and always helps me keep things in perspective. I love you, mom!
It’s so exciting to watch Hooper interact with babies younger than him as it offers a glance at what to expect when his brother arrives. I’m pleased to report that he exhibits no signs of jealousy when I hold little Emerson and actually seems moderately into her. We’ll see how that all changes when I’m playing mama full time to another little munchkin. ‘Til then, I leave you with a little Hooper & Emerson lovefest.
Hooper also had a play date with his pal Evan. These guys are only three days apart and his mom and I are both pregnant again, with just seven weeks separating our due dates. So cool. These two splashed around with the water, played on the slide, ate animal crackers, and did what boys do: got dirty. I’m still trying to get the dirt out of Hooper’s clothes. Sarah got to join in the fun too. Here’s some snapshots from their time together:
