Every now and then, I find myself feeling guilty for not being constantly available to my son. It's been awhile since I've posted anything. Probably because, I work ridiculous hours and try to soak up every free second with my little guy. Just peering back at my last post, I think I was wrong...I am a superhero!
Sorry if that last remark seems egotistical, but it seems appropriate to deem working moms with this title. Somehow, I manage to get up at 6am, get ready, iron, help pack for my son's day, watch Sprout, make a coffee, hop in car, sit in traffic, hold a position that requires me to be in a million places at one time, juggling 50,000 things, grocery shop on my lunch break, sit in traffic, pick-up my child, hold a dance party, walk two miles, cook dinner, play with blocks, play with the dog, say prayers, and peacefully get him to sleep, do the laundry, wash dishes, other random chores each day, watch a sitcom, type a blog, then go to bed. That's pretty impressive.
Once those thoughts of guilt pop into my head, I have to give myself a reality check and remind myself that I am one heck of a role model. That my child will see first hand what hard work is. I have to remember how social he is and how independent he is becoming. Our time together is precious and fun. His smile gets me through the work day and gives me a purpose in life.
Working moms shouldn't feel like their child is missing out. It's not the truth. Whether you are a fortunate enough to have one parent at home during the day (my husband and I work opposite shifts), or have a relative or other qualified childcare professional, your child is going to be just fine. If anything, remind yourself how well rounded they are or will become. Think about the time your child has to play with others and how he/she will be challenged in unique ways. Every person your child is exposed to will give them new insight.
And for those of you who like going to work (me)...don't be ashamed. Even if I had all the money in the world, I would at least work part-time. It's healthy to get out and have an identity other than 'mom'. After all, you had a purpose prior to child birth, why should that go away after. Being 'mom' is my number one role, but I was Stephanie first and I'm not willing to let that go. Moms can have dreams and goals, hobbies and careers. So be proud that you go to work, put the bread on the table, and can rock a pencil skirt and oxford like it's nobody's business.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
I'm not a superhero...
It now seems clear to me that this blog will home the many mommy bloopers I encounter over the years. Just when I start to casually and confidently cruise through parenthood.....SMACK, something happens that will knock my ass right off my pedestal.
Yesterday, my little darling was here there and everywhere. We were like the traveling circus for the day, stopping to visit different friends, bopping around the store. All that craziness and some newly introduced carrots resulted in a not-so-happy, feverish, crabby, little man.
Today, I proceeded on as always, made a pot of coffee, did some dishes in between baby cries....poured myself a cup of coffee and realized, of course, I had no milk. If you know me, you know I am a caffeine junkie. It's my drug of choice and I begin to shake, sweat and hallucinate without it. But I need the freakin milk.
I bitched out loud, blaming this on my husband (who was at work), because of course it was his fault that I had no milk. I looked over at the baby, gazed out the window at the mild snow storm and six inches piled on the car and knew there was no chance I was going out to buy some. So I called my neighbor for assistance and ran out the door to meet her grandaughter at the end of my driveway (all while Ben was semi-content in his swing).
I took no more than two steps outside and felt a suffocating sensation take over me....I locked myself out and Ben in. I was half naked, at least for New England standards, wearing a tank top, pajama bottoms and thankfully a pair of granny boots. I bypassed the little girl at the end of the driveway and banged on my neighbor's door like a psychopath. "Give me the phone, I need the phone, phone, phone, phone, phone...". Finally she handed it over and I called my husband at work. "Ben, emergency, panic, run, now," was what managed to come out of my mouth.
Without discussion, I left my neighbor's house, and began to trudge through the 5 feet of snow left over from earlier storms. I couldn't open the gate in the backyard because snow was piled so high. I hopped the fence and tried for the windows...locked. Slider door, locked. I was soaked and could have cared less. I stumbled up a snow bank in the front of the house (without it the window would have been too high) and peered in at my little boy. He looked okay, but I knew at any moment the house could catch fire, or carbon monoxide would find its way in, or maybe the roof would collapse. All this worry led me to lose my balance and fall off the small mountain I had climbed up. Goodbye ankle.
Mike got to house in record time, even with the crappy road conditions; it was the longest ten minutes of my life. When the door opened, I sent Mike upstairs and I sat in the basement and sobbed. It was awful, I just cried and cried.
Once I calmed down, I thought about what happened. This is just one blooper among many to come. I'm a mom, not a superhero. Each day I'm learning along with my son. I may feed him rice krispies, accidentally hit his head on a cabinet while dancing, or lock him in my home. But...I am one heck of a mom, and my little boy thinks I'm awesome. Not to mention, he won't remember any of this...thankfully.
Yesterday, my little darling was here there and everywhere. We were like the traveling circus for the day, stopping to visit different friends, bopping around the store. All that craziness and some newly introduced carrots resulted in a not-so-happy, feverish, crabby, little man.
Today, I proceeded on as always, made a pot of coffee, did some dishes in between baby cries....poured myself a cup of coffee and realized, of course, I had no milk. If you know me, you know I am a caffeine junkie. It's my drug of choice and I begin to shake, sweat and hallucinate without it. But I need the freakin milk.
I bitched out loud, blaming this on my husband (who was at work), because of course it was his fault that I had no milk. I looked over at the baby, gazed out the window at the mild snow storm and six inches piled on the car and knew there was no chance I was going out to buy some. So I called my neighbor for assistance and ran out the door to meet her grandaughter at the end of my driveway (all while Ben was semi-content in his swing).
I took no more than two steps outside and felt a suffocating sensation take over me....I locked myself out and Ben in. I was half naked, at least for New England standards, wearing a tank top, pajama bottoms and thankfully a pair of granny boots. I bypassed the little girl at the end of the driveway and banged on my neighbor's door like a psychopath. "Give me the phone, I need the phone, phone, phone, phone, phone...". Finally she handed it over and I called my husband at work. "Ben, emergency, panic, run, now," was what managed to come out of my mouth.
Without discussion, I left my neighbor's house, and began to trudge through the 5 feet of snow left over from earlier storms. I couldn't open the gate in the backyard because snow was piled so high. I hopped the fence and tried for the windows...locked. Slider door, locked. I was soaked and could have cared less. I stumbled up a snow bank in the front of the house (without it the window would have been too high) and peered in at my little boy. He looked okay, but I knew at any moment the house could catch fire, or carbon monoxide would find its way in, or maybe the roof would collapse. All this worry led me to lose my balance and fall off the small mountain I had climbed up. Goodbye ankle.
Mike got to house in record time, even with the crappy road conditions; it was the longest ten minutes of my life. When the door opened, I sent Mike upstairs and I sat in the basement and sobbed. It was awful, I just cried and cried.
Once I calmed down, I thought about what happened. This is just one blooper among many to come. I'm a mom, not a superhero. Each day I'm learning along with my son. I may feed him rice krispies, accidentally hit his head on a cabinet while dancing, or lock him in my home. But...I am one heck of a mom, and my little boy thinks I'm awesome. Not to mention, he won't remember any of this...thankfully.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Yea...we dig cereal.
Being a new mom has been quite the adventure. I find myself blocking the crazy advice of peers, instead trying to go with my instincts. So far, so good...well, I guess. My little man has for the most part been healthy. He's a whopping 19lbs at just 18 weeks of age. He smiles, hysterically laughs, rolls over, loves his swing and play mat...a perfect little boy.
Well, at his three month doctor's appointment, the pediatrician informed me that as he approached four months of age, I could begin giving him rice cereal. I was thrilled at the idea of giving him 'real' food. He was extra fussy one night, so I decided to give it a shot. I went to my cabinet and grabbed the box of Rice Krispies...rice cereal, right? I did think this out a bit. I waited until the cereal was extra soggy. He LOVED it!!! For about two weeks, Benji and I bonded over rice cereal. I ate my bowl, he ate the breast milk version. Things were great...until I informed a friend of this milestone. I instantly, blurted "my pediatrician told me it was fine", knowing I somehow goofed.
My husband and I laughed for a good hour after the discovery of powder cereal. I guess no one is perfect and moments like this will make for great stories when Ben is older. I've discovered that babies are pretty resilient and I love learning with him.
Well, at his three month doctor's appointment, the pediatrician informed me that as he approached four months of age, I could begin giving him rice cereal. I was thrilled at the idea of giving him 'real' food. He was extra fussy one night, so I decided to give it a shot. I went to my cabinet and grabbed the box of Rice Krispies...rice cereal, right? I did think this out a bit. I waited until the cereal was extra soggy. He LOVED it!!! For about two weeks, Benji and I bonded over rice cereal. I ate my bowl, he ate the breast milk version. Things were great...until I informed a friend of this milestone. I instantly, blurted "my pediatrician told me it was fine", knowing I somehow goofed.
My husband and I laughed for a good hour after the discovery of powder cereal. I guess no one is perfect and moments like this will make for great stories when Ben is older. I've discovered that babies are pretty resilient and I love learning with him.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
So in love...
It has been awhile since I've had an opportunity to post something. I started to write a blog about childbirth, but after three attempts to complete it, I simply gave up. Now, it's all a blur. I vaguely remember telling people the day after Ben was born how horrifying and painful it was. Now, I shrug it off an say "yea, it wasn't so bad." Today I am a firm believer in 'mommy amnesia.'
Mommyhood has been amazing. The first month was insane. This little creature just popped into our lives...it was crazy. I've never been much of a 'baby person.' Even now, I wouldn't go out of my way to stop a mom and ask questions about her child. But I can tell you, I am head over heels insanely in love with this little boy. Despite the initial lack of sleep, non-stop diaper changes, chapped nursing nipples, and at one point, never ending cries, this child is the best thing that has ever happened to us.
I'm back at work now; I have been for a little over a month. It was tough, but not nearly as difficult as I thought it would be. I'm not thrilled with my job, but it is nice to have something else to do during the day. The fact that he's with my husband during the day is also comforting...Mike is super dad.
Finally, I can say we're at a point where we are back in control of our lives and sort of know what we are doing. Ben's on a sleep schedule and for the most part sleeping through the night. I differentiate between his cries and know when he's suffering from gas, annoyed, over tired, or bored. I find enjoyment and happiness in the funniest things now. When he farts, I feel relieved knowing all that gas is going somewhere. When he sits there with a string of drool hanging from his face, it cracks me up. I'm amazed at how quickly he is growing (4 months and already 19lbs!), and by every new skill he learns. The first time he belted out a full blown chuckle, my heart melted and we sat there laughing together.
My little boy is the greatest gift God has ever given me and I never imagined how much better my life would be. I joked during pregnancy that all I wanted was to hit up the bar and drink a margarita. Now, I could really care less. I can't promise I will be posting blogs regularly, but I'll make an effort. The swing usually buys me 20 minutes, and nap times are typically used for dishes and laundry.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)