“They didn’t have you where I come from
Never knew the best was yet to come
Life began when I saw your face
And I hear your laugh like a serenade

How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough, is forever enough
How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough
Cause I’m never, never giving you up”

~Lullaby, Dixie Chicks

Happy 1st Birthday to my precious baby Emmett.

Has anyone else figured out how to balance the two? Is it possible to have a fulfilling and rewarding career while providing your child with the love and attention they need and deserve? Coincidently, Joanna Goddard over at A Cup of Jo, recently started a blog series on this very topic. I’ve been reading the guest posts every day, and at first I felt so relieved. These women are as exhausted and frazzled as I am, it’s not just me who feels this way!

Then I was like, wait a minute. These women are all beautiful, stylish, live in gorgeous flats in NYC and are all around fabulous. And here I am: overweight, skin breaking out and barely able to put together an outfit that isn’t covered in cat fur or Emmett’s breakfast. So it looks like they’ve got a leg up on me after all.

And they all have fabulous careers, whereas I’m still working my tail off to try and prove myself at work. How can I have a successful career if I have to leave important meetings early, like I had to the other day, in order to get home in time to spend the already rushed two hours a day I have with my baby? And what if I WANT to stay late to be in important meetings, like the one I had to leave? Does that make me a bad Mother?

All my efforts are finally starting to pay off at work, and I am SO excited about this. Everything that I have been hoping for, all those hours away from Emmett every day, they finally have a purpose. But I worry, how will I be able to do the best I can at work when my mind keeps wandering to what Emmett is doing and how much I miss the way he wrinkles his nose when he smiles (we call it his “cheese face”). I wonder if he misses me as much as I miss him. How can I make sure that Emmett knows how much I love him? How can I make sure that he doesn’t love his other caregivers more than me? I mean, he spends more time with them than his own Mother, how could he not?

Maybe the answer is that there is no answer, you just have to ride the storm and hope you don’t get too waterlogged.

Before I was a Mom,
I never tripped over toys or forgot words to a lullaby.
I didn’t worry whether or not my plants were poisonous.
I never thought about immunizations.

Before I was a Mom,
I had never been puked on.
Pooped on.
Chewed on.
Peed on.
I had complete control of my mind and my thoughts.
I slept all night.

Before I was a Mom,
I never held down a screaming child so doctors could do tests.
Or give shots.
I never looked into teary eyes and cried.
I never got gloriously happy over a simple grin.
I never sat up late hours at night watching a baby sleep.

Before I was a Mom,
I never held a sleeping baby just because
I didn’t want to put him down.
I never felt my heart break into a million pieces when I couldn’t stop the hurt.
I never knew that something so small could affect my life so much.
I never knew that I could love someone so much.
I never knew I would love being a Mom.

Before I was a Mom,
I didn’t know the feeling of having my heart outside my body.
I didn’t know how special it could feel to feed a hungry baby.
I didn’t know that bond between a mother and her child.
I didn’t know that something so small could make me feel so important and happy.

Before I was a Mom,
I had never gotten up in the middle of the night every 10 minutes to make sure all was okay.
I had never known the warmth,
the joy,
the love,
the heartache,
the wonderment
or the satisfaction of being a Mom.
I didn’t know I was capable of feeling so much,
before I was a Mom.

I hope everyone has an amazing Mother’s day! xoxo

Lather, rinse, repeat.

Towards the end, Monkeyface started to get a bit peckish and fussy. And then he was all like, “I’m starving you guys! Feed me NOW!” and the screaming began. We still had a ways to go before we were back to the car (and in another one of my numerous Mommy fails, I had left the diaper bag in the car instead of bringing it with us on our hour long walk) so we started speed walking and promising bottles galore to the starving, pissed off baby.

Our efforts to get back to the car quickly were lost on the hungry babe, and instead of appreciating the beads of sweat forming on my brow, he started to scream even more.

So Chris and I started alternating jogging and walking. Kind of like C25K. Which, if you’ll remember, was one of my New Year’s Resolutions. It’s still early in the year, but until now I hadn’t done much to work towards this goal. It looked like it might be just one more good intention that got lost along the way.

But I think today may have changed that. All it took was a banshee baby to get me going and guess what? Running isn’t nearly as scary as I thought. I was honestly worried that running would cause me physical pain or that I just plain wouldn’t be able to do it. But I did it! I alternated jogging and walking for almost 5 minutes. May sound like small potatoes, but for me this a huge step.

Link up to the Heir to Blair to see how BA is doing!

About parenting advice. In summation: don’t ever tell another person how to raise their child. Just because you do things one way doesn’t mean that is the ONLY way to parent and does not make the way I do things wrong. More on this later…

For now, because I’m too tired to write more, gratuitous pictures of my Monekyface.

O hai Mom!

Peep out my teefers.

Most precious Monkeyface ever. Ever.

I should have known better.

::sigh::

I want to explain why I lost control and dove headfirst into a sea of cupcakes and greasy take out. Emmett has been sick for nearly a month with fevers, ear infections, the works. On top of that, he was teething. {Side note: My baby boy has two little teeth peekin’ out!}

I’ve also been sick. I’m worn out. People who hadn’t seen me in a few weeks would take one look at me and say with genuine concern, “You look really tired”.

The result of all this is that I am now the proud owner of a brand new spare tire around my midsection.

So here I am, once again. At the end of my rope and uncertain of where to go from here. I’ve struggled with my weight for over a decade now and I’m tired. Tired of trying, tired of failure, tired of having to buy new clothes every 6 months because nothing fits.

I wonder how other people do it. How do you all manage to find the time to cook healthy meals? Where do you find the energy to exercise after a busy 8 hour day at work followed by a frantic 3 hours of feeding, bathing and smothering your baby in kisses? How do you cope with the craziness of being a working Mom besides eating???

The house is always a mess. The baby never sleeps long enough and the alarm clock always goes off too soon. The stream of snot never ends, the worry that comes when Emmett’s fever hits 103 degrees, the screaming for hours because my baby’s ear is causing him so much pain, it all takes its toll.

It’s enough to overwhelm even the most capable and patient of Mothers. It is all too easy to let this load get so heavy that you start to sink, and this is what has been happening to me for weeks.

So, rather than continue to let life sink me, I’m choosing to enjoy the happy moments and try to forget the rest. Like tonight, when Emmett spit up all over Chris’s face and then the two of us laughed until tears were streaming down my face. Sorry bebe, but it really was hilarious!

Or when I was nursing Emmett and he chomped down SO HARD on me. That part is not funny. I yelled “OUCH!!!!” and tapped his face and said “No baby!”. And then he gave me the biggest baby grin and the three of us started laughing again.

Spit up and nipple biting. These are the highlights of my day, the little moments that I am choosing to treasure from today. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Chris was born in England, but for all intensive purposes he is an American. He grew up here and besides the fact that he calls the hose a “hose pipe” there are few traces of his homeland etched into his persona. He loves the beach and would gladly spend every minute of the weekend hanging out there.

Growing up in a beach community, I’m sure Emmett will become a beach lover as well. I imagine he might even take up surfing, or that fun new sport where you stand on the surfboard and paddle. But for all his many months (6), we had never taken him to the beach and put his feet in the water. It just seems like such a production to me, too much equipment needed, too much stress. Better to just go downtown and buy some new clothes.

But last weekend, Chris finally wore me down and we threw a blanket in the car and headed to the beach. I’m glad we did, because, aside from one minor bee incident, we had such a nice time and it was so fun introducing Emmett to the waves.

Emmett puts his feet in the sand for the first time. And in about 30 seconds, I step on a bee.

I’m keeping my foot in the water to numb the pain from the sting. I have no idea why I am smiling.

Monkeyface loving the beach.

Monkeyface loving his Daddy.

Monkeyface being too cool for school in his shades.

6 Months ago I was in the hospital: confused and scared, elated and so in love. The first few months were a blur of no sleep, swollen breasts, snuggles, postpartum madness, tears and love. It definitely hasn’t all been lovely baby powder smells, baby coos and cuddles. The lows have been low, but the highs have been so unbelievably high.

No matter how many times you hear, “It all goes by so fast!” you can’t fully appreciate the truth behind this statement until you have a baby. Because one day you wake up and your tiny newborn is now practically a little boy. I’m scared to death that if I blink for too long, when I open my eyes he will already be in college.

I love this little baby, my baby, my son, my Monkeyface. I can’t wait to watch him grow up, watch him run down the hallway and say his first word (which will no doubt be Mama).

I only hope time will be kind and slow down, at least every now and then.