Last Christmas

Last Christmas, you gave me the greatest gift I ever got. Last Christmas, we found out that we were expecting a baby. And that news changed our lives together forever. It was a path we had always been headed toward, but actually travelling it with you was one of the happiest times in my life.

Some women say they love being pregnant. Some hate it. I fall into the former category. To be sure, I had an easy pregnancy, but I loved being pregnant because for those nine months, we had never been so much in love. Each time you looked at me, it was as if I was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. Your unadulterated happiness at the fact that I was giving you a baby filled me up each and every time we looked at eachother. I have never felt more special in my life and I don't know if it was Buddha growing inside me, or the way you looked at me. I think it was a little bit of both.

So for those nine months, you never let me forget that I was performing a miracle. Each and every day you would touch my belly, or hug me tight, or stroke my head; making that entire nine months a magical time for both of us. And I am sure that after living a lifetime together raising our children, finishing our careers, when the dust settles and it just the two of us looking back on our amazing journey together, that first pregnancy will have been the happiest year of my life with you. I am sure we will have other, happier times that involve the children or eachother, but for nine months in 2007 we were in the unique position of being on the verge of change, strattling a divide between our old lives and this new life. In a sort of long lasting moment where everything that came before had led to and prepared us for what was to come but hadn't yet. It was nine months of just being in love and creating our own miracle.

And if the way you looked at me for those nine months was heart bursting, the way you look at her changes my life in and of itself. Your infatuation and love for our daughter literally swells my heart so that I feel it beating in my chest when I watch the two of you together. And watching you with her or looking at her and seeing you in her, looking back at me, is something I can't describe in words. It is in those moments that I know I have figured out the meaning of my life.

I watched you run around this past week, getting ready for Christmas. Doing your 'secret' shopping for me and the baby. I know this first Christmas with her will be incredible and fun and one to be treasured. It will no doubt be one of the many memories that will make me smile when we are old and gray and I will not forget it, ever.

But whatever it is that you are buying us, won't ever be as good as what you gave me last year. That gift is one I open up each and every morning all over again. Last Christmas, you changed my world. And it was Last Christmas' gift that makes life so sweet. It was last Christmas that we started what we were meant to do, the beginning of our family, the center of my heart.

Last Christmas, you gave me the gift of all the Christmases to come. You gave her to me.

And they don't sell that at the Gap.

I love you, I love us.

Love,

me

Our First Christmas Card!

Oh, you thought we had forgotten about it?

We are still going strong on the monthly birthday celebrations!

Jingle Bells

The Buddha baby loves singing. I must sing at least 5 hours of my day. And I assure you that I am not a singer.

Tis the season, so I have been singing her Christmas songs. Jingle Bell Rock is her absolute favorite. Which is fine, except I don't know the words. Neither does my husband.

I sing to her when she starts to fuss, and it always calms her down. The other night, we were travelling home from my in-laws at night and the Buddha started to cry in the backseat. So I started belting out the tunes. I saved Jingle Bell Rock for emergencies...I don't want to delude its power by overuse.

When all else failed, I started the Rock...

"Jingle Bell Jingle Bell Jingle Bell Rock. Jingle Bells sing and Jingle bells Jing. Dasher and Dancer and Blah Blah Blah Blah...In the frosty Aiiiiir..."

Husband: What are you singing, that isn't Jingle Bell Rock?

Me: I don't know the words. And I could be wrong, but she doesn't either. So it works out.

Husband: I do. "Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell, Jingle Bell Rock. Jingle around the way. A mix and a mingle and a Jingle of fun, now the Jingle Rock has begun. Jingle Bell Jingle Horse, pick up your feet, Jingle around the bloooooooock. ummm.....a wingle bejingle and jingly jing...Buddha baby I love you."

Me: That's what I thought.

Mid Morning

Please note that I am blogging at 12:13 pm...

Yes. I have stepped away from the baby. She is in a bouncy chair (that by the way, vibrates and doesn't bounce so what gives with the term?) amusing herself with some linking plastic rings. That were not made in China. I am all over this mother thing!

It really all culminated yesterday when my husband came home and for the third day in a row, I was wearing the same white turtleneck. I hadn't showered, and frankly, I was disgusting. I realized...I have to put the baby down. I am no better a mother for not putting her down to shower...in fact, I am pretty sure I am a worse mother for failing to take care of my basic hygiene. I know I am a lesser wife for it!

And so people last night, I put her down to bed and took a shower. While in said shower I heard her starting to cry. And you know what I did? I continued shaving my legs. When I got out of the shower and went to check on her, she was still crying...but you know what? She was totally fine. And this morning she woke up and smiled at me, so clearly she isn't holding a grudge.

So today I continue my new found independence by putting her in the bouncy/vibrating seat and blogging.

But now she is starting to fuss, so I gots to go...

Baby steps.

3 Months (and I am aware I skipped Month 2, but in my defense, month 2 went by really, really quickly)

Dear Buddha,

In the last two months, Daddy and I have taken to calling you Buddha in light of the chubby legs and cheeks. I must say "Buddha Baby" a thousand times a day. And you have started responding to "Buddha" and different variations on it. This is worrisome and annoying to both of your grandmothers, but I am the mommy, and so I can do whatever I want when it comes to you...so Boody Buddha Baby, it is.

In these past two months, the major change is really that we have eased into each other. I feel more like a mommy now with you, more sure of myself when it comes to keeping you alive day to day. And you have grown in the last two months in leaps and bounds. You are so chubby now, so filled out. And you started cooing and talking to us. Just in the last couple of weeks you have figured out how to grab things (which you immediately pull to your mouth). And you went from looking so much like me, to being the spitting image of your father. I see him in not only your face, but your demeanor. You sleep late and are slow to eat. You are so good natured and easy going...you rarely cry or fuss outside of telling me you are hungry. You are your father's child.

The best part of the last two months is that you have learned I am your mommy. You prefer me to everyone else. You are good with others, and are an easy, good natured baby who loves to be held by anyone, but when it hits the fan, you look for me. I am the one who makes you feel safest and most calm, and you light up for me in a special way that no one else can really evoke. I can say that in my limited experience with motherhood, that is the best part. The closeness we share, even at this young age, is amazing to me, wonderous really. And fills me like nothing else I have ever done. So thanks for that Buddha...

You did go through a case of the "mommies" where you wouldn't go to anyone else but me for about a week. It was tough on me, but I think toughest on your daddy who was visibly hurt when you cried if he took you from me. They say all parents love their children, and I think each one thinks no one can love a child more than they do...but I can honestly say, I have never seen any parent as taken with a child as daddy is with you.

If daddy is home, he plays with you almost from the moment he comes in until it is time for you to go to sleep. He insists on changing all your diapers just so he can stare at your chubby little leggers. And he has a running commentary on how beautiful you are that I have to listen to for hours on end. He is smitten with you in a way that I have not seen him ever. Grammy and Papa Ooch notice it too. He really is over the moon.

He stopped to get a coffee at Dunkin Donuts on our way to the mall, and you were sleeping in the car seat. I waited in the car with you only to have daddy come out of the Dunkin Donuts 5 minutes later with the manager in tow who he forced to leave teh counter in order to come to our car and look at you. I am hoping, for your sake, that this adoration wears off...otherwise, you might have to take him to the prom.

You are happiest in the mornings and are all smiles when I look into your bassinett to get you. You wake up anywhere from 9-11, depending on how you slept, and then sometimes fall back asleep for a while after nursing. There are alot of days when we don't even make it out of the bedroom until noon. You love to laze around in bed playing with me in the morning and ease into the day. And I oblige you because it is my favorite part of the day...

This is in stark contrast to the nighttime, when we try to get you to sleep. You refuse to go to bed before 10, and rarely get to sleep before 11. Putting you down is a process that takes about an hour. I nurse you in bed, and you inevitably fall asleep only to awake when I put you down in the bassinett. And the crying ensues. The doctor told me to let you cry yourself to sleep and lean over to pat you only every 5 minutes. I never make it past 20 minutes of this, and on the rare occasion that I let you cry longer, it is clear that you are digging in your heels and will not stop until I stroke your head and sing you to sleep. It is difficult at night, and takes alot of work, but each morning when I peer in to your bassinett after hearing you start to coo, you give me a big smile and all is forgotten from the night before.

We play all day long together, you and me. I worry that I am doing you a disservice because I hold you all day long, even during your naps. I rarely put you down, and never put you down and walk away from you. I want to soak up as much time as I can with you before I go back to work...I know Grammy and Meme dissaprove of the constant holding, but I can't help it. We have such a connection you and I...it is as if all is right with the world if only you are in my arms. I don't ever want to put you down.

But I know I have to let go a little. I fear that if I don't ease you into being separated from me a little more, the transition of my working will be hard on you. So I have left you twice in the past couple of weeks. Both times I returned to you crying. Both times, you stopped once I held you. And so the very thing that makes me not want to leave you again, is the very reason I really have to...it isn't good to be so attached to me that you can not be happy without me. So I am starting to leave you with your grandmothers a little here and there. And I think you will get used to it...

But I don't know if I will. I don't know if we will ever have two months like these past two. Two months where we were together almost every minute...soaking each other up, breathing each other. I want to always be this close to you. But I know it wouldn't be healthy to continue on this way. And I have to go back to work anyway...but I will always remember these two months as the months I had you pretty much to myself.

There are moments in life that you remember always. I mean really remember. And those memories bring back the intense feelings that were coursing through you when they were made. When I think about the moment the church doors opened and I saw your father waiting for me at the end of the aisle on our wedding day, my heart stops and just the memory of it takes my breath away.

I will remember these two months that way. I will remember you staring into my eyes for an eternity while I sing you to sleep. Never looking away until finally your lids were to heavy to stay open...and it will take my breath away.

I love you more than yesterday but not as much as tomorrow.

Love Mommy

I am going to need references

We are the center of each other's universe. I gave this child life for the love of God! She was literally ripped from my body, where she seemingly wanted to stay for all of eternity, and she'll be damned if she is going to let a little thing like birth stand in the way of her being enveloped by me. And who am I to stop such unadulterated love? So I indulge her...and envelop away...

We spend our days swirling around each other, in constant contact. She naps in my arms. She only agrees to be put down if I am right there, talking to her, playing with her, engaging her. She will go to others and lets almost anyone hold her...she likes to be in a crowd but she likes to know I am around...And frankly, when she is out of my sight she isn't the only one uneasy, nervous, and probably a millisecond away from all out terror and panic, if you know what I am saying.

As long as we are together there is peace for both of us. She is a happy, content baby and I am a surprisingly laid back first time mom (you know, except for the part about not letting her out of my sight).

I am her mother, she is my child. We should be the center of eachother's universe...but to the exclusion of all else? I can see where this leads, and it isn't good. I can't go on job interviews with her when she is 22 years old...and I am pretty sure her first date should not have to pay for my popcorn too. Frankly, I don't even want to think about what the wedding night would be like. Although given the course we are on a wedding night would be highly unlikely.

What I am trying to say is: I think I am a smother mother (huge gasp)!

I know that I should leave her. For God's sake, I know I should at least put her down for five freaking minutes and walk away. I deserve to not have to sprint my way through every bathroom break don't I? And should be able to email Amy or Kid Kate without feeling like I am neglecting her. I know all this. It isn't healthy, and I fear it is about to get a whole lot worse...

I am going back to work on January 2nd. The clock is ticking and I feel like my world is starting to crumble slowly around me. I don't want to go back with such intensity that it shocks me. I love my job, I don't mind working, and I certainly never saw myself as the type that would want to be a stay at home mom. But I look at her and I think she is too little to leave, and there is no way my boss is going to let me keep her under my desk. A million fears hit me all at once and it is all I can do to stay on my feet. She won't be okay without me. Her grandmothers won't hold her all day like I do, they won't know how to soothe her like I do. THEY MAY EVEN PUT HER DOWN FOR A NAP! Or, God Forbid...let her cry!


(Hard to believe that I am somehow the best caretaker of the child right? I am surprised she didn't revolt against me...)

What I am saying is that I don't trust those two. What the hell do my mother and mother-in-law know about taking care of babies? I haven't received any references...and I suspect both may have criminal backgrounds that we don't know about. I mean, do we really know these women?

And it was that thought process, which I actually vocalized to my husband (honestly, the fact that he didn't take the child and run from his crazy wife is a testament to his love for me), that has me wondering if perhaps I am not being a little...ummmm...what's the word? INSANE?!?

There is a part of me that knows I need to put her down. That it is better for her if I leave her once in a while. But that part gets crushed in my ovewhelming fear of leaving her for 8-10 hours a day four days a week. I Think I am so attached to her because I know this time will end. It has to if we want to send her to college...or, you know...eat three meals a day...we just can't afford for me to stay home. It's a reality, but one that is making me so upset and crazy that I never want to leave the child, with anyone, EVER. And that simply isn't healthy. For either of us.

And I know there are other mothers who work out there. That their children still know who they are. They are working and are still the mommy, their children are still thriving...but I don't know them. I can't see them. They don't write blogs do they?

I need someone to tell me that they did it. That their 5 month old still loved them. That they remained the center of their baby's universe despite being away. And most importantly, that the baby remained content and happy. Because that is what I need to know.

Will she be okay? Okay without me?

And also, will either of her grandmothers listen to a God Damn instruction that I give? NO JUICE! I don't care if we drank it all damn day long...modern medicine has figured out a few things since you two had babies. I AM THE MOMMY NOW...YOU MUST LISTEN TO WHAT I SAY!

Those two old grannies better get it together...can you yell at the help if you aren't paying them? And how amenable do you think they are to giving me a set of fingerprints for a background check?