One of the unavoidable hazards of raising children: stepping on toys. Alas, I didn’t so much step as I did kneel.
On this:
Let’s look at that from another angle, shall we?
I’m certain that little knob poked something in the squishy part of my knee that should never be poked ever.
September turned 1 on the 23rd. She’s beautiful and so big now. Things about her are so not baby-like anymore. She’s definitely a toddler. But beyond that, she’s becoming this little kid, this little person filled with her own wants and she’s making them known. It’s challenging and I’m trying very hard to keep up with her pace.
Still, her birthday party was fun and lots of people came to celebrate. We ate tons of food and watched her delicately pick at a giant cupcake. But while all of the festivities were going on, I couldn’t help but think how different our lives are now than they were a year before. Yes, a year ago today my husband and I had a week old baby and we were completely overwhelmed. I’d cry at the drop of a hat and felt like I just couldn’t do this. How on earth are you supposed to take care of another human being? How could I ever live up to this challenge?
It was rough.
At the party, my eyes wandered over those in attendance. So many people came to celebrate with us. So many people that weren’t in our lives this time last year. We were convinced we had to do everything alone. We didn’t ask for help. It was just Matt and I at home, struggling. But then, as the baby blues wore away, I found strength. And I asked for help. And you know what? People helped! People helped all the time and were more than willing to do so. When you’re depressed, it’s hard to comprehend how people can care about you. When you don’t care about yourself, it’s hard to see how you’re worth a damn.
More people are in our lives now than ever before. We are enriched by new friendships. We are strengthened by the commonality, the middle ground, that parenthood brings to those from all walks of life.
We sang happy birthday and opened presents and donned party hats in celebration of a little girl’s birthday. But inside I was rejoicing in the knowledge that we were walking with clear minds and open hearts for the first time in much too long.
I work from home. I’ve done this for the entirety of my adult life, pretty much. I write, mostly. This means I need time to concentrate. Anyone with a baby knows, this is next to impossible. At least while your little one is around or awake. So, I need time away from my precious girl to get work done. You know, to pay bills and stuff. And to keep my clients happy. But that’s easier said than done.
At the moment, I have a babysitter twice a week. So, for four hours on Wednesday and Thursday, I dash off to Starbucks and get my write on. I type so fast, my finger joints stiffen the moment they get near my laptop. “Noo! Be kind to us!” They scream. Alas, I am ruthless and put them to work despite their protests.
My in-laws take my girl sometimes, too. That gives me more time to work. But the rest of the time? I squeeze in a full-time work load during her naps and after she’s gone to bed. It’s not easy. It’s definitely not fun. And sometimes it makes me resentful. I don’t like that emotion.
And yet when I’m away from her, I can’t wait to be back with her. It’s crazy-making being in my head.
Motherhood has been one great big lesson in flexibility. And I’m SO inflexible.
While keeping her on a schedule is vital, my schedule changes from day to day. Lately, when I don’t have a babysitter, it looks like this:
It’s a full day. I get a lot done but never enough. I try to enjoy every moment and get caught up in what I need to get done once she’s asleep instead of just enjoying her. I hate that.
Whether you work from home like me, work outside the home, or stay at home (which is work enough!) what does your schedule look like?
I promised myself I wouldn’t be one of those people who took a year to write up as something as simple as a birth story and here we are, a year later. You live, you learn. 🙂
Still, I finally did set some time aside to write up September’s birth story and it’s l-o-o-o-n-n-n-g. I was in labor for what felt like forever but you know it all turned out fine in the end. Here’s a snippet:
September arrived when she was good and ready. My September 14 due date came and went. The week rolled on. She still hadn’t come. My midwives were supportive and fully prepared to let my body do its thing but there was some pressure: if I went past 42 weeks, I’d have to be transferred out of their care to a regular hospital. No, no, no! I was not having that.
I forgot to mention in the write up that my water broke after I hit 10 cms. It was so weird, like a water balloon breaking in my stomach. It didn’t hurt at all, but it was just so sudden that it kind of scared me.
You can read the whole thing over on the First-Time-Mommy.com blog. They have a great support group on Facebook, too, which you should totally check out. Oh, and hey while you’re there, why not give my burgeoning community a like? Let’s build something awesome together!
Getting enough protein into my daughter’s diet is difficult. She eats plenty of human food (God, I need to stop calling it that!) but she has trouble with protein-rich foods. She likes the flavor of chicken, for instance, but the texture is difficult for her to manage. She can’t chew up chicken enough to be super easy for her to swallow. She also doesn’t like eggs so there goes that.
We haven’t introduced nuts yet. You can see the predicament. But then it hit me! Meatballs!
Matt had cooked up a whole chicken in the crockpot to make a few meals for the week. Thankfully, we had egg and breadcrumbs on hand. So, he cut up some chicken and put it, along with part of a beaten egg and some breadcrumbs, in the food processor. Next thing I know, there’s a disgusting looking chicken paste in the bowl.
He formed the mixture into balls and plopped them in a lightly buttered pan.
Chicken pancakes
Okay, so they didn’t really stay in “ball” formation. They kind of collapsed. This was the first impromptu meatball attempt, okay? Cut us some slack! The end result was chicken pancakes that held together surprisingly well. After allowing it to cool, we gave our girl pieces of the pancakes and she gobbled them up quick. And once she got bored, she threw them off the highchair to try to feed the cats. So pretty much everybody in the house was happy after this culinary experiment.
It’s all about finding balance.
Not just on this brand new blog. But in life in general. Scheduling out a few minutes a day to get things done I want to do, not just those I have to do is easier said than done. Often, it doesn’t happen. I’m okay with that most of the time. Other days it hits me hard. I miss life when it was less complicated.
My daughter and I
Then I look at my sweet daughter’s face and know I’d never want to go back to that old version of myself ever again.
Motherhood. It’s filled with all the feels. And complicated ones, at that.
I’m also self-employed and run a writing and editing business. I have a babysitter sometimes. My in-laws watch my girl sometimes. But it all doesn’t add up to enough hours at the computer, putting fingers to keyboard, and making that money.
We’re struggling.
But we’re getting up every day and making things happen and I guess that’s something.
And that’s what inspired me to make this new blog community. About work. About life. About being a mom. And most of all, about bringing it all together to make for a not-so harmonious existence.
We make do.
What does this all mean for you, dear reader?
I’ll be sharing things that have helped me sort out this impossible balance. Tools, tips, and tricks. Rants. The occasional recipe or craft project. Plenty of photos of my family of course (with maybe a cat or two). And above all else, I hope to foster a place where other working moms can hang and talk about what concerns them.
Let’s prevent each other from going crazy!