Things to remember, so that I won't forget

I just read a similar post from a yoga/hiking mama friend of mine and was inspired to write something that I have been meaning to write since baby bundle was born. (Thanks, Dona!)

I want to remember the way you dance with both arms up and shake your body back and forth anytime you hear music.  I want to remember the time that you yelled and laughed and crawled all over Daddy and Big Bro - your first wrestling match - in the hotel room in Boston.

I want to remember walking in the sun with you when you were just 4 months old, and realizing how incredibly happy I was, just to be your mom.

I want to remember how you knead your fist gently on me as you feed...and how eager and loud you used to be, almost devouring...

I want to remember the first time you rolled over in yoga class, how you looked up at me and smiled and giggled, and did it again three more times.  (Then you waited another good three months to ever do it again!)

I want to remember how you give off a long, deep, hum when you are getting drowsy, and how happy and excited you were the first time you waved at Papa.

I want to remember how you come and lay your head on my lap when you have been away from me for too long, and how you pat Big Brother's head with both hands to show him how much you love him.

I want to remember that you flirt with EVERYONE!  Especially older ladies and kinda scary looking men.  The toughest looking ones always seem to fall the hardest for your smile and your bright eyes.

I want to remember the pure delight you experience every time you get your tiny little hands on a tasty morsel.  I already feel like you are a teenager, eating us out of house and home.  You just seem so happy, singing to yourself and swaying back and forth...just enjoying the flavor and the texture of food.

There is so much to remember, and I don't ever want to forget.  Each moment with you is so precious, I never in my wildest dreams thought I could love like this. Or laugh like this.   You are my Buddha, my spirit, my joy. 

I love you, my little bundle. You have made me a believer.

All Work And No Play Makes Mari A Grumpy Mom

So I started working again.

Working Mom is not as fun as Not Working Mom.

It seems as though I am always missing something.  Or rushing somewhere.  I am in constant the-baby-ate-three-hours-ago-and-he-is-going-to-be-hungry-in-exactly-4-minutes-so-I-have-to-get-there-FAST! mode.

Not that I am complaining.  Well, I guess I am, but I know it could be much worse.  I have a very supportive network of family and friends around me that have made this transition much easier.  But it is still hard to always remember to make sure there are diapers in the diaper bag and a container of frozen vegetable cubes that I hope will defrost by lunchtime.

Also, nobody prepares you for the multitude of annoyances that pumping brings.  One day, there is so much milk, it is squirting against the walls.  The next day, dry as a husk!  And how many times can that stuff be re-heated anyways!?

Now that summer has started, my dear husband is at home playing Mr. Mom.  So far, so good.  He even made cookies tonight.  But it still doesn't make it any easier that the three boys left for the park this morning, just as I was leaving for work.  Or that my stepson attached himself to my leg and threw himself in front of the door chanting, "don't go! don't go!", while baby boy just stared at me with his big brown eyes.  Believe me, I wish I didn't have to.

All in all, my little bundle is growing up to be so much fun.  And although I absolutely hate being away from him for even a second, I know he will always be there to greet me with a big smile, and a wet, gummy face slobber when I come home.

Sleepy Time Gorilla Band

So, I'm pretty tired. Like, really tired. Like, so tired that I looked down at my feet today and I realized that I have been wearing one brown flip-flop and one black flip-flop for about a week.

I don't know what's going on, but the little bundle thought it would be a good idea to revert back to the newborn stage for his 5th month birthday.  He is nursing like crazy and waking up every two hours at night.  This is not good.

Last night I had a dream that I showed up for yoga with my unwashed hair in a half ponytail/half bun.  I was wearing my super fuzzy barbie pink bathrobe and a see through beige tank top and a bra with no nursing pads (the horror!).  In the dream, I remember feeling very dishevelled and disoriented.  Like I wasn't supposed to show up for yoga in my barbie robe or something...

My next dream was super quick.  I was at the doctor's office wearing jeans.  But as I looked down, I realized that I was wearing a diaper and it was sticking out of the top of my pants! That was a good one!

I really do love the little bundle more than anything.  But right now, some sleep would be absolutely divine!

You be the daddy and I'll be the mommy.

While talking with my husband the other day, I came to a very interesting discovery.  We were discussing the boys and how our lives had both been so different before they came along.  Not very earth shattering, I know, but I was still curious.

My husband had been living life in the fast lane, and wasn't stopping for nobody.  That is, until boy number one showed up.  He said that at that moment, he knew he had to get his s#%t together.  You know, go back to school, get a better job, start bringing in the cash flow (too bad he went into teaching!). Basically, baby was born and he was going back to work.

When bundle number two was born, I wanted just the opposite.  I wanted to quit my job, stay at home, bake cookies and go to Mommy and Me yoga classes.  I wanted to put my career way back on the back burner and start using cloth diapers!  Instead of going out into the world to provide like my husband, I wanted nothing more than to stay in and provide.

Neither of us had thought of ourselves as subscribers to stereotypical gender roles.  But, there we were, both subscribing!  People always say that having a baby will change your life.  I found it fascinating that my husband and I would want to change, but in exact opposite ways.

In a perfect world, I would get to stay home and watch baby bundle sleep like an angel, while I effortlessly whipped up dinner and got the laundry done. But soon, I will have to go back out into the work world to provide.  Hopefully, I will still have time to learn new lullabies.

Maternal Love is Fierce. I get that now.

So the disaster in Japan has hit me in a way that no other natural disaster has.  Because now, there is a baby involved.  I have spent the last week planning escape routes, filling up our emergency backpacks and generally making myself crazy.  I have had thoughts of strapping the little bundle in the ergo carrier and climbing to the top of the roof to avoid a tsunami.  Not that this would necessarily work, but...it might!

I guess what I am realizing is that this is the fierceness with which a mother loves her child.  I have been glued to the news, the radio and the internet.  I have been monitoring the radiation levels in California on two different websites.  I have been asking questions and talking to anyone who will listen.  I am not satisfied with the mainstream news, or the platitudes coming from our government.  I want the real information.  I want to know when and if I should book a flight to Vermont.

I want only to protect my child.  My baby.  My lifeline.  The thought of something hurting Clayton makes me sick inside. 

At the end of the day, I am blessed because I have the luxury of thinking about what I would do if disaster occurred.  The poor people in Japan did not have this luxury.  I am so thankful for the health of my child, as my heart breaks for mothers across the globe.

Poop. Lots of it.

Little bundle is now going through a phase of major blowouts.  You know, poop up his back, on all his clothes, etc.  I have heard of this happening occasionally.  Something they tell every new parent to be ready for.  I must admit, when I was still pregnant, these "blowouts" seemed absolutely horrifying.  But when I say little bundle is going through a phase of major blowouts, I mean to say that EVERY TIME HE POOPS IT IS A BLOWOUT.  This has been happening for about a week now.  And it is a little horrifying.

I am actually feeling kinda trapped by it.  I really don't want to leave the house in the morning until after IT happens.  Trying to go to yoga -- did the baby poop yet?  How about some grocery shopping -- did the baby poop yet? A little walk on the beach... you get the picture.

But last night had to be the best incident by far.  Baby and Daddy were enjoying some super cute and cuddly bonding time on one couch.  I was on the other couch, face down in the pillows, relaxing for a few well deserved minutes.  Baby was so content, laughing, cooing, playing with his hands and feet.  Dad was super relaxed, enjoying the fact that baby wasn't screaming in protest of sleep, as he was just a few minutes earlier.  I remember thinking, "This is so sweet!  Everyone is so happy!".  After a while, I went to pick up the little bundle and felt a very large, very wet spot, all the way up his back.  He had been sitting in the crook of my husband's arm, and I realized, right away, that if baby had a huge, wet, poopy back, then daddy had a huge, wet, poopy arm.  My husband and I exchanged a quick, knowing look.  Without missing a beat, I placed the baby exactly where I had scooped him up.  Back into my husband's arms.

I went to get Big Brother out of the tub, and lucky Daddy, got to get down and dirty with super baby and his super blowout!

More smiles. Because they are so awesome.

Baby smiles are just delicious.  I can't get enough.  I like them even more than I like ice cream.  And that's really saying something.

My favorite smile right now is the one I get when I am taking a shower.  I have found that Clayton is happiest in his vibrating chair, minus the vibration.  I leave the shower door open just a little bit to be safe (and to totally drench the floor every time!).  Every 45 seconds or so, I peak my head out to make sure the bundle of joy is still having a good time.

Oh man, the smiles I get from this guy! Eyes light up! Arms shake! Feet bounce!  And instead of showing me his pearly whites, he shows me his gummy gums!  And once again, I am totally in love.  And not even craving ice cream!