I am THAT kind of mommy

In my pre-baby mind I had all these preconceived notions on how life was going to go. I think every woman for that matter has these preconceived notions. Whether its about the guy your going to marry, the type of wife your going to be, or how your marriage is supposed to go. Before baby I imagined my life filled with a baby that awoke happy and rarely cried. I was going to be the perfect mom and do EVERYTHING by the books. My baby was going to spend very little time watching tv and I was going to sit on the floor so I could play with her everyday. Truth is reality hits.

That crib bumper that you are not suppose to put in her crib has just saved me from rocking a crying baby that has just hit her head against the railing for the 2nd time at 3am. Oh I tried to go without it but after the second night of waking up, I gave up and Savannah got her way. Savannah was not going to watch very much tv. She's watching Raffi in concert so mommy can pay some bills online and catch up on the happenings of life without a little one grabbing the screen and wanting to bang on the keys. As I watched other moms with their children and thought to myself I am never going to do that when I have my own kids. Turns out I'm just like them...as Savannah throws a temper tantrum in Target. I was going to keep a super clean house. Laundry would always be folded and dishes would always be done. First let me get some caffeine and see how far I get. Dishes are in the dishwasher. Good enough for me. Now onto that laundry. Oh Savannah is coming to "help" unfold the clothes I just spent 15 minutes folding. Go upstairs to put all the clothes away only to discover that all my dresser drawers were empty and all my clothes are sprawled across the floor. Must find ibuprofen!

I wasn't going to offer any baby advice because that really annoyed me when I would get baby advice. I can't help but tell a story every now and then. I just can't stop the words from coming out of my mouth because for once I can relate to something someone is talking about at the dinner table when we are out and about. I sit and listen to all the stories people tell about doing spontaneous things or their work life. I will quietly admire all their stories with nothing to add to the conversation. As soon as I come in contact with someone I know that is having a baby, I can't stop the words from flowing! Before baby, I thought that I would have no problem going back to work. Honestly there are still days when I think about it. Then I go to mommy bible study and try to bribe Savannah into the church nursery as she's screaming with her arms held out for me. Ok maybe work isn't such a great way to go. Plus I don't know who would do the laundry or make the meals if I worked. Not working makes it hard to make that student loan payment every month for a degree that I worked so hard to get. Nevertheless, it gets paid and I continue to indulge in motherhood at home. I should count my blessings. So many people would love the opportunity to stay at home with their children but I am also just a normal person that way too. The grass is always greener on the other side.

To conclude, I have realized that books don't always tell you everything that is going to work for your children or your life. You have to figure out what works best for you. What is going to keep your sanity at the end of the day. People can offer you all the advice in the world. I still probably won't be able to resist telling my crazy baby stories or sharing my experiences but I guess that just makes me normal.

Something to make you laugh

I attended a baby shower this weekend where the guest of honor was given this book as a gift. I thought the title was hilarious so I read a few pages in it. I began to laugh so hard that I had to go home and look up this book. I found on Barnes and Nobles that they had an excerpt for the book. The book is called Sippy Cups are not for Chardonnay. Here's the excerpt. I hope it strikes your funny bone on this Mother's Day.
 
Mommy and Me, Me, Me
There came a time when my baby was about six months old that I realized that a trip to the grocery store didn't constitute a full day of activity in the outside world for either of us, even if one of us was sneaking samples from the bulk section. The brief walk around the block later in the day wasn't adding much either. (I'd try to make it around the whole neighborhood, but my cell phone kept running out of juice.) So, while sitting in my living room for the tenth straight day, I realized the time had come to consider some alternate entertainment options.
Up until this point I'd avoided organized baby activities. I've never been much of a joiner, and in the beginning I had a ready-made excuse — I could barely get the baby in and out of the car in less than an hour. Plus, I'd always been a bit closed-minded about these types of things. I'd hear people talking about Mommy & Me, and judging by the name alone it sounded like something I'd have absolutely no interest in. I couldn't help but think, Your baby doesn't need to be making friends at three months old — you do! But not with people you'll meet at Mommy & Me.
I imagined the worst: magenta-colored walls with enormous yellow suns painted on them, and mommies as perky as preschool teachers, nuzzling their little cuties in their laps, singing cherished children's songs that I wouldn't be able to recall even if there were a gun to my head. Especially if there were a gun to my head! A lot of women taking their mothering very seriously.
So I looked into some alternatives, and as it turns out, there's no shortage of organized activities for you and your cherub — provided you have unlimited time and money. You can sign your infant up for tiny baby gymnastics, Itsy Bitsy Yoga, dance classes, music classes, and, if you live in New York, you can sign your six-month-old up for Broadway Babies, so they can learn to drool their way through Rent. If you decide that a trip down your birth canal isn't enough of a workout for your newborn, there's even a swimming class that offers lessons for one-day-old babies. What the hell? That just seems like a waste of money. You know how newborns are, by the time the kid is thirty-six hours old, he'll have forgotten everything he learned.
After I reviewed my various options, Mommy & Me started to sound more and more tolerable, so I reluctantly signed up for a class at a local temple, put on my fanciest drawstring pants, and hoped for the best. Maybe I'd make a friend.
It turned out my initial fears were not unfounded.
The group consisted of about twelve women and their babies arranged in a big circle on large colorful mats on the floor. Each mat had a face depicting a different mood and the name of that mood, such as HAPPY, SAD, SHY.
I scanned the room for my best discreet exit strategy, and then planted myself and my baby on a GRUMPY mat nearby.
The woman who sat down on my right had a baby approximately the same age as mine, so we struck up a conversation, which immediately proved difficult because of an unfortunate neon sweatband around her forehead. After a few minutes of not knowing where to look, I turned to the woman on my left. It was then that I made a truly frightening discovery — she too had a neon sweatband! Imagine the Vegas odds on two out of twelve women in the same room having on the exact same fashion atrocity.
Luckily, right about the time I'd run out of places to focus, our "leader," a woman whose pleasant personality made up for a lack of expertise of any kind, asked who among us had "baby issues" they wanted to discuss. She hit pay dirt with this crowd. It seemed plenty of moms were champing at the bit to hear the advice a group of equally inexperienced women could give them regarding certain pressing concerns. My attitude was getting poorer by the minute.
We spent the next forty-five minutes exchanging information on scintillating topics such as Is Diaper Rash Really a Rash?, The Pros and Cons of Spending Extra Money on Dreft Detergent, and Are Pampers Really Better for Girls? If there hadn't been a leader present, perhaps we could have discussed more important mommy issues such as How to Clean Your Bathroom Without Actually Cleaning Your Bathroom, or Finding Time to Masturbate, but this was definitely all about the babies.
One woman giddily suggested that it might be a fun mommy activity for all of us to drive about forty miles out of town later that week to watch her get her new child car seat installed, and unbelievably, a few women actually seemed genuinely interested. I momentarily considered inviting everyone along for my next Pap smear but was scared I'd get some takers.
During this time my mind started to wander a bit. I glanced around to see if there were any moms who felt as out of their element as I did. I noticed one woman was wearing a pink tank top with the words "Brody's Mommy" spelled out in sequins, like she was some sort of Brody groupie. I wondered what this was all about. I love my baby too, but I've never felt the need to shout it from my breasts. Hey, I own my home, but I don't have that information bedazzled on the seat of my pants. Plus, I've never seen anyone wearing an I HAVE HERPES T-shirt. Yet I happen to know that one out of every six people carries the virus. Wouldn't that be much more helpful personal advertising?
It also occurred to me that I could get a group of mothers with babies around my baby's age together at one of our houses or a park — for free. This is officially called a playgroup. For a lot of women this is ideal; but I had to be realistic. I can't figure out how to fit a vegetable in with a pasta dish. There was no way I would be organizing a group of women and their babies to be in the same place at the same time — with snacks — on a weekly basis.
I snapped back to attention as we shifted to the entertainment portion of the class. Our leader opened her set with a couple of baby crowd-pleaser songs: "Open, Shut Them" and "Wheels on the Bus." It was as I'd feared; I didn't know any of the words to these songs and felt self-conscious and out of place. But as I scanned the room to see if anyone would notice if I snuck out, I finally caught the eye of a woman who looked as ill at ease as I did. She smiled at me and rolled her eyes. There, I'd made a friend. My work here was done. I figured I'd try to get my new buddy to ditch this group and go to the mall.
But when I looked down at the little wriggly baby in my lap, I saw that she was loving it: the atmosphere, the songs, the other babies. My little sweetie's eyes were lit up like Paris Hilton's in a Fendi shop. My heart melted, and I knew I was in for the long haul. She giggled her way through every baby song, clapping game, and nursery rhyme. I leaned in close, nuzzling her ear, and whispered, "You do know this means you will not be putting me in a home when I get old, right?"
Just when it seemed it couldn't get any cheesier, a couple of bird hand-puppets made an appearance. I think they were supposed to be birds, because of the "Two Little Blackbirds" song that accompanied them, but it was difficult to make a visual ID. These puppets looked like they'd been sewn by someone in the midst of a seizure, on a train...during an earthquake. Yet the babies responded like a bunch of sex starved blue-hairs at a Tom Jones concert. I could swear a couple of the babies were so excited they threw their Pampers into the middle of the room. It was downright embarrassing.
And then I realized something even more troubling. I was kind of into it in spite of myself, smiling and laughing along with my baby. I couldn't pinpoint the exact moment I'd gone over to the dark side, but it had happened.
Later in the parking lot it really sunk in as I strapped my exhausted baby into her car seat and yelled "See you next week" to Brody's mom as she drove away in a huge white Lexus with a vanity plate surrounded by flashing lights that read, naturally, BRODYSMOM. I knew with certainty that this wouldn't be the last time I'd be sacrificing my dignity in the name of motherhood. Yes, I'd be back at Mommy & Me next week. And the week after that.
But I wouldn't rule out a little private weekly playgroup with my one new Mommy & Me friend at the nearby El Torito — free except for the price of four margaritas.
Copyright © 2006 by Stefanie Wilder-Taylor

Read a Sample Chapter

A Poem

As I was browsing through websites today, I came across this poem. Beautifully written as if it were for me.

The Girl I Used To Be
Rowena K. Lewis

She came tonight as I sat alone
The girl I used to be....
And she gazed at me with her earnest eye
And questioned reproachfully;
Have you forgotten the many plans
And hopes I had for you?
The great career, the splendid fame,
all the wonderful things to do?
Where is the mansion of stately height
With all its gardens rare?
The silken robes that I dreamed for you
And the jewels in your hair?
And as she spoke, I was very sad
For I wanted her pleased with me...
This slender girl from the shadowy past
The girl that I used to be.
So gently rising I took her hand
And guided her up the stairs
Where peacefully sleeping, my babies lay
Innocent, sweet and fair.
And I told her that these are my only gems,
and precious they are to me;
That the silken robes is my motherhood
Of costly simplicity.
And my mansion of stately height is love,
And the only career I know
Is serving each day in these sheltered walls
For the dear ones who come and go
And as I spoke to my shadowy guest,
She smiled through her tears at me.
And I saw the woman I am now
Pleased the girl I used to be

Something to vent about

Quite honestly some days a mom just has to hang her head down and say "this sucks." Being a mom is not always glamorous. Sure I get to sport around that extra large purse stuffed with diapers, snacks, toys and anything else needed to occupy a toddler while shopping. I get the joy of being stopped every 5 minutes so that Grandma's can admire and talk to the baby. It's cute the first couple times but once it takes you 3 times longer to get a "simple" errand done, it gets kind of annoying. Every person wanted to know her name today, how old she was, and of course that question that really gets me annoyed...how much does she weigh? I feel like printing out a bulletin sometimes with all the FAQ's. Normally it wouldn't bother me but when I have an errand to run after lunch, I only have so much time before Savannah hits the wall. I really don't like to go after naptime because I really never can guess how long she will sleep plus by that time I need to start making dinner. Planning these trips has become very strategic. Again, I love that they give her attention and ask me questions especially being new to the area but I really didn't need the extra love today.

It also sucks some days to be a mom when your child doesn't get all her pooping out in the first sitting. I don't mind changing dirty diapers but by a year this momma's got a limit. Seriously! What causes a child to poop THREE times in one day! She's been doing this once a week now. She was also the baby that dirtied every diaper for 3 months. They told me that eventually she would have a routine which she gradually did get. I don't know what's with the sudden need to revert back to her "newborn" days. She also managed to spit up all the mucous she's been coughing up on me and her outfit today. Enter 3rd outfit change of the day. Some days I don't even bother putting clothes on her until we go somewhere. I want her to be dressed in cute little outfits all the time. That just isn't reality when you actually have a child. They dirty pretty much every outfit you put them in. I just changed Savannah 20 mins ago and YES she's dirty again.

Don't get me wrong. I LOVE BEING A MOM. Somedays you just need to vent and complain about all the dirty stuff that comes with being a mom. It's almost bedtime for the little girl and this momma survived today with all the things that came with it. Tomorrow will be a brand new day and something to smile about. She will stand up in her crib to greet me and say uuuugh (up). Seeing your child grow up and flourish makes mommyhood just a little bearable and all the gross things that happen will be a distant memory.