The Secret Lives of Newborns (inspired by Gretchen and Katy)

Ok, remember when you were pregnant (or, if you're a man, thanks for reading and your wife/partner/whatever was pregnant)? You were so excited and hopeful. You bought a bunch of shiny new stuff that Babies 'R' Us convinced you that you needed. You had baby showers and sniffed and accurately identified melted candy bars in diapers. You had ultrasounds and heard the heartbeat. You dreamt of holding your baby in your brand new over-priced glider with a sense of serenity heretofore unseen. You declared that you would not want to expose your precious package to nipple confusion and that he or she would not be taking pacifiers or bottles until a healthy, stable breastfeeding routine was established. You read all the books. You may have played mozart, refused to wear nail polish or dye your hair. You were going to be the best parent EVER. This child would be the smartest, cutest and most well-rounded baby in the history of the WORLD, so help you God.

The thing is, when they hand you a real, live baby, all bets are off. The secret lives of newborns include things people failed to mention to you like long, sleepless nights, ear wax, stinky feet, spit up, frustration, disgusting diapers and colic (my personal favorite). Additionally, all babies are different and there is no manual written specifically for how to manage yours. It is such a learning process and as the Johnson and Johnson commercial proclaims, "Having a baby changes everything." It changes your hormones, your relationships, your sleeping patterns your perspective, and your values, not to mention everything about your day to day. I know there are lucky parents out there who bring home their newborn and things go rather smoothly. Jason and I are not those parents. It took until the 3rd try for us to bring home an easy baby. Unfortunately for us, we already had two colic veterans at home who were ready and waiting to throw a wrench into our dream of heading home from the hospital to relax and enjoy our newborn son. Bringing babies home has not been the picture of serenity and motherhood that I had anticipated. I thought that I would sit in my shiny, new (Babies 'R' Us) over-priced glider nursing my baby to sleep as I sipped on an organic beverage and read a parenting book. Not so. It was more like me sitting there in tears as I begged my colicky (and non-english speaking) infant to nurse because as they force you to believe, "breast is best!" This scenario went on for two daughters straight. It was not the pleasure that I had thought it would be. I'm here to tell you that the popular info we receive as young parents is not always 100% accurate. Parenting a newborn is hard, emotional work and is often done by a mother who is overwhelmed and feels isolated and inadequate. I was that parent. I was married to a man who worked 90 hours a week and I had very little support in the early years. After our first daughter was born, I ended up with Post Partum Depression and suffered feelings of despair and anxiety that I cannot accurately describe in words. I eventually sought treatment, but was ashamed at having become a Parents Magazine story, a statistic and a wreck of a person in the process. Parenting is not always pretty, even the parenting of a beautiful and precious newborn. Believe me, I LOVE BABIES they are precious, amazing and a miracle in every way. I just want to put it out there that if you, as a parent haven't always felt that raising a newborn was all it was cracked up to be: that is ok. I agree with you. We still have as much love and wonder in relation to our children as the next mom. We just had a few bumps and a lot of ear wax and/or stinky feet on the way.

Candidly..

I kind of wonder about my honesty in blogging. I have been talking about my family and our misadventures with love and excitement. As I reread my posts, I am sure that they are fairly honest and straightforward. Of course, I am relaying the stories after the fact. Oftentimes, the things that I am writing about do not come from a place of warmth and happiness. Many times, I am taking a new perspective on a situation that is resolved and that I can laugh at. The fact is, I want to be more candid about my experiences as a parent. Parenting is not always the picture that you see from the outside when a hip mom walks by with her cute children and handsome husband. There is a story there. A story that you do not see which includes tears, stress, pain and exhaustion. I am not trying to be Debbie-downer and I would never discount the fact that parenting is often joyous and a fantastic experience for those who choose it. Nonetheless, it is often quite difficult and I am going to force myself to write more candidly about the difficult experiences. I am choosing to take this candid approach because there is no greater comfort than when I am speaking with another mom and we can both "admit" feelings that we have about our parenting experiences that cause guilt, anxiety and shame. This all hit me this past weekend while I was running with a great pal of mine. She was telling me about a friend of hers who she feels is very honest about the ups and downs of parenting. Her defining comment on the subject was, "when we hang up the phone after talking, we both feel better." She claims they feel better because they have both come clean about some less than ideal thoughts or feelings they might have had regarding family life. It's definitely a bit of "misery loves company" when we talk to another parent who shares our struggles. Finally, I can't help but give credit to my husband when I talk about being more candid. He is candid. I love it. He says stuff that others only think and we both laugh our butts off at how awful we must sound. Whatever. I'll take it.

Next candid post: Taking care of a newborn.....

Pink Eye Hell

Some years, we are very lucky and have little in the way of illness. This year is not that year. It started when I opened my fat trap around Thanksgiving and started bragging about how we had seen little in the way of colds or anything else. I should know better than to open my mouth. Since that time, we have been fighting off various things that I will not go into.

Right now, we are in the midst of living in Pink Eye Hell. Pink eye sucks in particular because it is an "illness' that can often result in nothing more than red, goopy eyes on children who are completely fine in all other respects. This is the kind of Pink Eye we are currently experiencing. We are all stuck in this house together and while I continue my futile attempts to sanitize all surfaces and toys, my kids are like caged animals. They really need to the opportunity to their "wiggles out." Therefore, because I cannot in good conscience take all 3 of these infected children to a confined and frequented kids typ place, I had to come up with an alternative course of action. I may have previously mentioned that I own a very sexy mini-van with most of the bells and whistles; including a DVD player. So, I packed the kids in the mini-van and headed to the Red Box to rent them a DVD so that I could at least get a bit of peace while they watched a movie in the car and I drove. I know-very environmentally friendly. (Get off my back alright. I'm a recycling nazi and I waste almost nothing.) Seriously, I was desperate for a place where I would no longer hear crying, whining and screaming.

Like fugitives, ran from the monotony of our home and took to the open road. The open road being I-65, it drove us straight to Indianapolis where I decided to utilize our zoo membership. What a great message to send to my 6-year old, "Hey Madda, when you stay home from school, we get to do fun things like watch movies, eat McDonalds and go to the zoo." Awesome parenting, I know. Regardless, we were 1 of 5 families in the entire zoo. It was really enjoyable and the perfect prescription to alleviate our cabin fever. The lions were up walking around and roaring, the rhinos were playing (well, kinda) and the monkeys were extra playful. It was the best zoo trip we have ever taken; even if we were playing hooky. Actually, that was probably why it was so much fun.

A Summons....

I feel like a pretty lucky lady and I am thankful every day for the life I have been given. My husband, when I start to spout off my feelings of gratitude, is forever reminding me that our luck in life is not an abstract, untangible thing but an accumulation of good choices and endeavors throughout the years. I believe that he is correct. It would be impossible to make a list, accounting for all of those good choices and endeavors however, I am aware of a few of them in the forefront of my mind. Many of them are unknown to me or to Jason, but I believe that we must have done something right as our lives are pretty rewarding. When I look at the top of my list of gratitude, I am thankful that I get to stay home with my children. Wow. It is such a gift.

In reality, as much as I believe in the choice I have made to stay at home with them, I still think about what I might do as they grow and are more independent. The older I get, the more I realize the importance of having various "meaningful roles" in our lives. As my kids individuate, I am going to need to refocus my caretaking efforts into something else; caretaking or otherwise. Yesterday, a wonderful woman that I went to high school with posted the quote below from what appears to be an anthology of spiritual meditations and prayers from the around the world. So far, my research has turned up only a vague understanding of the source "Terma Collective" . When I read this, it hit me so hard that I had to pause in the midst of getting children ready for whatever activity they were slated for, and reflect. I wonder how many other moms out there are listening for their "calling." I hope you enjoy this like I did:

What In Your Life Is Calling You?

What in your life is calling you?

When all the noise is silenced,

the meetings adjourned,

the lists laid aside,

and the wild iris blooms by itself in the dark forest,

what still pulls at your soul?

In the silence between your heartbeats

hides a summons.

Do you hear it?

Name it, if you must,

or leave it forever nameless,

but why pretend it is not there?

Terma Collective

Dear Mommy...

We have had quite a trying day and Sawyer has been pretty much at the center of most of the challenges. Tuesday, January 12, 2010 has pretty much been Sawyer's time to shine as the prototypical middle child. She has repeately done her best to gain negative attention, has irritated her sick, lethargic brother and has taken her time during each and every time-sensitive activity of the day. She is a hero for middle children everywhere who are trying to drive their parents crazy. She is tricky, resourceful and creative in her endeavors. She could teach a class on the subject. The irrational, tired Mommy inside me wants to scream and send her to her room however, the sympathetic, guilty Mommy has to think twice about why her behavior has been this way today. Here is an example of what I think Sawyer might write to me in a letter provided she had abstract, rational thinking and a mastery of the alphabet:

Dear Mommy,

You are my favorite person to hang around. Just like the guy in that "Happiest Toddler on the Block" said, you are my "rockstar." The thing is, you have been very busy doing a lot of things that do not involve me including (but not limited to): taking care of Eamon because he is sick, checking your email compulsively, doing laundry, cleaning, cooking, driving and making phone calls. The thing is Mom, that would be cool-except for the fact that it is cold and snowy and I am not allowed to go outside by myself. I feel kinda trapped in this house and I have no one to play with because Eamon is sick, Madda is at school and you keep doing all this boring stuff that I have no interest in helping with. Therefore, I am doing a lot of really irritating stuff to try and get you to stop doing all those mind-numbing chores and play with me. Seriously, can you blame me? I am just a kid and I need you to slow down and focus on me completely for just a small period of time. All you really have to do is get me engaged in something (not TV, that rots my brain even if it is PBS) and play for a little while before heading back to all the boring stuff. I'm not asking for much. I just need a little bit of your time to help me get focused so that I can cool off on being so irritating. You really have to remember that I'm just a silly little 3-year old and that I don't want to make you mad. I just want to hang aroung you and be your buddy. I just love you so much.

Love,

Sawyer Mae O'Bryon DeWitt

Oops!

Oops! Is it January? Apparently, I have been busy for the past 6 or so months and have severely neglected this blog. It has been busy. I figured that as Eamon headed toward being one year old that things would calm down, and that I would find the time engage in my trifecta of happiness; writing, taking pictures and exercising. Well, as it turns out, mobile baby boys are even more work than non-mobile, nursing baby boys and as little girls grow up, they too, are more work. Yikes it has been busy around here.

I am relieved that the cold, blustery days of January are upon me and that I am more confined to my home. I am looking forward to cooking, exercise and blogging, to spending time playing with the kids and taking/editing photos. In the past, the walls of my home would close in on me as winters seemed long and painful. At this point in my existence, winter is a reprieve. January and February come at exactly the right time for me in Indiana. I am exhausted from the holidays, spent from play dates, running around and trying to get everything done. Bring on the confining nature of January as I prepare for emergence in the spring. In March and April, the madness will be back and I will wonder where my brain has escaped to once again. That being said, it would be cool if winter temperatures could range between 20 and 32 degrees. This single digit stuff should be reserved for people who choose to live in God-awful places like Minnesota and Canada.