The Kindness of Strangers

In case you don't know...I'm kind of a cynic. I often say "people suck" or when someone is mean, "not too surprising." But some days, someone just pops out of nowhere and makes me question my cynical self. There are so many nice people in the world, and when the pop up, I wonder "do they know that they just made my entire day?"

Yesterday, two of my best friends Jenn, Bett and I shot a wedding. It was a scary and nerve-wracking day for me. Not because of the wedding, which did make me a bit nervous, but because it was the first time I would be leaving my baby boy alone all day long. I was gone for over 12 hours, and it was scary. During that time I had to pump 4 times(because I'm breastfeeding, in case you don't remember the month or so that this blog was entitled "tales of my ta-tas"), which was also a bit of a struggle. Fancy-schmancy hotels in downtown Chicago don't have places where crazies can go to pump breastmilk (at least that they are sharing with the world), so I had to go in the bathroom, sit on the toilet, and pump. It was NOT awesome.

However, the first time I pumped, I was a bit stressed, because the wedding ceremony was starting in just about 20 minutes, so I was rushing to store the milk after I was done. One mother was rinsing out a bottle and asked "How old is yours?" and we had a nice little chat. Another woman came out and said, "Oh I remember those days." and I mentioned about how it was a pain in the butt. She came over to me--rubbed my back, and said "You're doing good stuff for your baby."

Right?

There are totally still great people in the world.

And I think to myself today, why didn't I tell her? Why didn't I say something more than just "thank you." Because she made me feel better, and special, and happy with just those words...and I'll never see her again, never know her name. All I can do is try to pay it forward.

Maybe being cynical is not necessarily my thing anymore?

Yeah he is.

Love you buddy.

The Help by Kathryn Stockett

So, last week I was able to read The Help by Kathryn Stockett. In case you haven't noticed, I love to read books that are coming out as movies. I like to do this for two reasons...

1. I hate seeing a movie and then reading the book with the movie images screwing up my internal vision of the book. I like to paint the characters myself before they get all clouded by Hollywood.

2. I like to sit at the movie and tell whoever is with me all the differences from the book and the movie, and how much better the book was than the movie. I'm that pompous-ass. Ha ha.

Anyways--the book was great. If you haven't heard about it, it is basically a tell-all book about black maids in the Jim Crow south. You will love to hate the privileged white women, and you will root for the three protagonists (my personal favorite was Minny--because she's a bitch, like me!).

The book switches between three narrators, which usually irritates me, but I really enjoyed it in this case.

Overall, great read...no Hunger Games, but great book!

Wow, that's really what I look like.

So, yesterday Randy, Finn, Ella and I were swinging on our swing. And I thought, "What a sweet moment." So I took out my iPhone, and tried to get a picture of all of us. I took this photo, then I looked at it and I said (out load) "Uhhggg...so, that's what I really look like now, huh?"

How depressing is that? I still have about 20 lbs to lose from this pregnancy, still on mostly due to laziness...and partially due to Potbelly Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.

It sucks. I am so tired of saying to myself..."tomorrow" "tomorrow" tomorrow I'll do better, and it'll work. I won't feel sad/upset and I won't eat cookies.

But, I always eff it up.

I'm so pissed off at myself right now, I can't even articulate it.

But, right now, all I want to get down in writing is that today is the day. I need to get my shit together.

Immediately.

If not sooner.

No arguements.

And no cookies.

A good book...

Finishing a good book, is a lot like waking up from a long, deep sleep. It makes you look at the world differently.

You guessed it, today, actually about 20 minutes ago, I finished The Hunger Games trilogy. I cried (of course I did), but I also started thinking about how much I love to read. Reading takes you to a different place, forces you to live in a different world, even if it's just for a short amount of time.

I stepped out of those books today, and I felt like a stranger in my home. I walked around, looked at the dinner I had started in the morning, started to clean up a bit, but I felt...like I didn't belong. I had to acclimate myself to "the real world" again. I'd been living in Panem for the last 4 days (yep--three books in four days, with a 4 month old baby...those are some GOOD books). And Indiana doesn't look exactly the same as Panem.

These books are fantastic, truly. I haven't enjoyed a set of books so much since Twilight. I lost myself, and that's my favorite part of reading a good book. I made friends with Katniss and Peeta, and got angry at them sometimes, but ultimately forgave them, and loved them anyways.

One of the things that I hope (so much) for Finn when he grows up is that he loves to read. Not just tolerates it, not just does it for school, but truly loves to read. I hope he can lose himself in it. If he can't, I'll survive, but I'll hope that he will find something that he can lose himself in...something he feels passionately about.

I'm thinking I might make a weekly post about what I'm reading. The rest tend to be about how wonderful Finn is (which I am totally okay with! :)), but reading is something that's mine, all my own, which is kind of fun too!

Abscence Explained...

So, I'm sorry I've been MIA, but I have an excuse (a really good one...okay, well I have an excuse). In case you don't happen to be one of the 5 people I know that read this blog, let me explain.

I have a problem. A serious addiction. I love to read. When I find a book that I truly love, I don't just read it--I devour it, I live it, I become connected to the characters in a way that I can only explain as friendship. I cry with them when their lives are hard, I laugh with them when things are funny, I empathize with them and cannot put them out of my head.

So, over the last two days I have made some new friends. Katniss and Peeta are my two favorite. Yep, I'm reading the Hunger Games trilogy. I just finished the second book about 25 minutes ago (then fed and put Finn to sleep), and the absolute one-and-only reason I am even writing this is because I didn't go out and buy the third book. A student said that they would bring it to me today, and didn't...so now I'll probably have to drag Finn to buy the third one tomorrow.

I know that most of my good friends and family love to read, but sometimes I like to pretend that I connect with the characters in a way that no one else understands. You'll often hear crazy readers say things like "I read the entire Twilight series in 5 days (ME!)" or "I read all seven Harry Potter books in two weeks (Me again)." Even crazier people have tattoos in elvish on their foot because their first true book obsession was with a series called Lord of the Rings (yep, still me.).

I just can't help it...the authors are so amazing. They draw me in and I want to live in these worlds. Randy and I have had countless conversations starting with "would you rather be a vampire or a wizard?" and have gotten into debates about which one is better. My students have asked me which house Finn would be in if he went to Hogwarts (to which I replied--well, let's just wait until he is 11 and gets his letter!). Randy and I read the entire first book of Harry Potter to Finn while he was still in the womb.

I don't really have any purpose in writing this blog, other than I am so damn sad that I don't have that third book, that this is my way to stay in their world a bit longer. So, Katniss--I really want to know if Peeta survived, and if he is okay. So, please let me dream sweet dreams tomorrow, and get my morning chores done really quickly so Finn and I can make our way to Target to buy the third book in the morning (Ssssshhhh...don't tell Randy! :))

Changes...

So far, motherhood has come with quite a few surprises. The first, for me, is how much fun it is. Now, don't get me wrong, I have always known I wanted children. I thought about babies, dreamed about how cute he/she would be (*for the record--he's even better!). I never thought it would be terribly easy. I never thought that I would want to stay home and raise them. I never thought that I would enjoy it as much as I do, I never thought I'd fall so deeply in love with my child. It surprised me--how quickly it happened, how the feeling was different than anything I've ever experienced.

Other than this, the biggest surprise for me, is how much it has changed who I am, both internally and externally. Now, the external changes are pretty obvious. I wasn't one of those--I'll just eat the extra 300 calories people, I was like--I'll eat whatever I want and I don't care (*note to others--this is stupid). This is why I still have not returned to my pre-pregnancy weight, though I'm consistently working on it. There are a variety of other physical changes, that I won't mention because you don't care, and it's weird.

The internal changes are even more intense--I feel different than I was. I always admired mothers who were able to keep up with their other commitments--friendships, work, life in general. I thought "that's the kind of mom I want to be." Someone who doesn't have to change every part of herself in order to have a child. I don't feel like that's who I am. I feel like I am consumed by Finn--I don't want to do other things, I don't want to leave his side, I don't ever want to miss it, so I sometimes flake out on other things.

I was driving to work yesterday, after a particularly stressful day (not because of Finn--Finn is very rarely stressful--but because of other obstacles), and I thought to myself, "when am I going to feel like ME again?" And it struck me as odd, because I don't know if I'll ever feel like the old me again. I'm not some pod person--I haven't changed completely--I still swear like a sailor (I'm trying to stop), I'm still way too loud about my political views, my views on basically anything, I still very rarely dress up, or care what other people think--I'm still me, but I'm different too.

I say things that I would have never said before, that I thought were condescending...like "you'll understand when you have children" or "you can't understand the love a parent has for a child until you have children" stuff that I would have never said before. I think about quitting my job...my DREAM job...the job I've always wanted, to be a stay-at-home mom. I think about staying home, being a mommy, COOKING & BAKING (if you knew me pre-mommyhood--this is a huge change), creating fun, creating memories, creating traditions.

Sometimes, it's hard for me to accept I'll never be the 21 year old that goes out every weekend and gets crazy again. I'll never be super-skinny again. I'll never be carefree...ever again. It makes me a little sad.

BUT...then, I look above my computer screen. I have the most beautiful view...my house (cleaned after today...holla!) that we have worked so hard to make a home, my walls filled with memories, and my beautiful boy, peacefully sleeping (in his swing, of course). And I think...maybe the new Becky is even better.

The FIRST Mother's Day

How crazy is that to say? I have never been a mother on Mother's day before...but, this year, I get to participate :)

It was a pretty good day altogether. We spent a lot of time with family, and got to eat a lot of delicious food. But, my favorite part was at our house...just us. I woke up, and I didn't get very much sleep. I was kind of crabby, and kind of dreading the busy day that was about to happen (Finn sometimes doesn't do well when he's not on a normal schedule).

Well I woke up and saw this...
That Randy is so sly...I had to wait until Finn woke up to open it, which was tough
And then I got my presents...
First, a plant (it starts with an R, and it's a long name...Randy thinks that all mothers should get a plant on Mother's Day and that this is like flowers, but you get them all the time! He's so environmentally conscious. )

Then a hammock stand, which I have wanted for EVER!

And then, my favorite part, Finn (aka Randy) wrote me a poem, a poem that was so good that I thought he had downloaded it from the internet. A poem about swinging with Mommy, and it made me cry. The best presents are the ones that take time and effort to make, and it means so much to me.


I am so lucky. Sometimes, I can't even believe how lucky I am. I get to love this man, who is my perfect match. I get to look at him, watch him love my baby. I have this gorgeous child whom I love more than anyone on the planet, and I have my puggle.

It is such a wonderful life.

Every day is the best day

My mom was a great mom...until I was about 12 years old. Now, looking back on this, I realize that a lot of this was my teenage angst, a lot of it was my crappy attitude. However, a lot of it was the fact that my mom couldn't grasp the fact that I was growing up, and this meant that I had to make some of my own decisions, had to live my own life, not the life that she prescribed to me. This was challenging for her, in a way that I now understand more than ever. I will probably understand more and more as Finn gets older.

However, I also think about ways that I can counteract this part of me. The part of me that wants him to stay little forever. The part of me that wants to shout from the rooftops--stay this age forever, smiling, happy, adorable, and sweet....and in my head, a small, tiny voice (barely audible) says "Please don't stop needing me....please, please, please". But, I am also a rational adult and I know my baby boy has to grow up. I also know that this is a good thing. One of my favorite books to read to Finn is called "If I could keep you little" and the last line in the book states:

"If I could keep you little, I'd keep you close to me.
But then I'd miss you growing into who you're meant to be."

So, while I've thought about packing away his newborn clothes in the last week or so, something has kept me from doing it...mostly general busyness. However, I realized this morning...never once have I thought to myself "I loved this boy more YESTERDAY" No, I love him more and more each and every day. He is so perfect (to me) that it's incredible. Each new stage he has grown into (I realize he's only 3 and a half months old, so he hasn't gone through very many stages), I have thought to myself "He is so fun right now!" or "I just wish he'd stay like this!" But with each new stage, I never think "The last one was better, I wish he'd go back." So, in a way, every day is the best day EVER with Finn. He is that much fun that it just keeps getting better and better.

I hope that I can embrace this and keep remembering, that while I helped to create this person, and while it is my job to help him learn, and grow, and value certain aspects of this beautiful life...it is also my responsibility to let him become the person he is meant to be; to believe in him, to trust his judgment (from time to time) and allow him the space to become who he is.

I hope that I can do that for him. I hope that it continues to be the best day ever, forever.

All the way from this one...
To this one...

Love you little man.

Is Something Wrong?

First, just to get it out of the way...Weight check was + .4....mostly because I didn't track, didn't care, whatever. I have had a lot of moments this week of feeling like a total failure, so some things that should not have gone by the wayside, did. It wasn't all that great.

So, now that that is out of the way...

One of the things that I consistently say now that I've entered the wonderful world of motherhood is, "is something wrong?" For example,

"He isn't reaching out for things yet...is something wrong?"
"There's a blue-veiny spot on his belly...is something wrong?"
"He always, always, ALWAYS sounds mucousy...is something wrong?"

It's continuous, and never-ending. I am always thinking, wondering, is he okay...is there something I'm not seeing? Is he developing correctly? Am I doing this right? Am I holding him back? Am I being a bad mom?

See how quickly it switches from HIM to ME!?

I've discovered just how quickly the mom guilt turns on. I want him to be healthy, happy, safe and smart. I spend more time than I'd like to admit worrying about his well-being, and trying to make all of these things happen. When they aren't happening, I (and all the mothers I know) blame myself. What am I doing wrong? What should I be doing better? Why can't I do anything right?

I wish that, as a mother, I could spend more time thinking about the things I'm doing right...examples?

- I am not a crack-mom (score one for me!)
- I am reading to my child every day
- I am working on tummy time
- I am reading about what he should be doing, what kind of games he should be playing, smiling at him, talking to him, loving him more than I could have imagine 4 months ago...

Why can't I let the bad go, and know that I'm trying my best? Why can't I?

Until next time, I'll be trying to love my baby the best that I can...even if I'm not perfect.