12

Abraham is 12 months old. Until tomorrow.

Here are 12 things I don’t want to forget about him (inspired by Sandra Boynton’s Little Pookie)

1. He wakes with a smile. Immediately, he wants to look out the window, play with the alarm clock and cordless phone, and, if I’m lucky, snuggle.
2. He likes to feed himself. With a spoon.
3. He likes to screw lids onto jars. Or anything.
4. He loves to dance to music. He plays with his magic cube, plays the tabla, plays xylophones, claps when I sing.
5. He has discovered gravity: he throws things down the stairs, he pours water in the bath, he drops food for the dog.
6. He gets very excited about food. He yelps, flaps his arms, and giggles, reaching for whatever I’m preparing for him. And he eats everything. He cries for raisins, claps for hummus, and loves liver.
7. He has begun throwing tantrums. If he doesn’t get his way, for example, if we have do something terrible like puts coats on before we go outside (because it is winter), he arches back and screams.
8. He loves playing peek-a-boo chase. I go in another room and hide behind a chair or wall. I surprise him and he chases after me. I hide again, surprise, chase. Etc.
9. He knows what he wants and remembers things. We went to the park in early January on a warm day and I let him play on the toddler playground. A week later, we were at the park, swinging, and he turned, reached for the toddler playground, and whine-giggled (which is his way of saying he wants to play over there). And he played in the same way that he did the first time.
10. He still loves nursing. I was so nervous that he wouldn’t. That because I wasn’t making enough for him, he would tire of my low supply and go 100% bottle. But he didn’t.
11. He doesn’t walk yet, but he manages to get around without crawling. He sort of kneel-walks/hops. It is hilarious, especially when he dance-kneel-walks. 
12. He has become brave and very friendly. In a new place, he takes off to explore, looking over his shoulder to make sure I’m watching. And he approaches people, smiles, and waves goodbye. You can’t help but smile to look at him (and I’m not just saying that because I’m his mom). Love my Little Buddy.

Best Supporting Actor

I am a sensitive person, perhaps oversensitive. I get upset for my family members when they are mistreated. I take it personally. It burns me up, consuming my mind, as I try to understand the logic or rationale behind someone else’s actions.

The other night, as I was angrily nursing Abraham to sleep (angry at a situation, not my precious nursling), I had a possibly life changing realization. Something I have known but finally sunk in.

It isn’t about me.

Do you ever watch a movie or read a book and feel like you are the main character? This happens to me a lot, I feel like I take on the emotional life of the main character. (Side note: I once took an empathy test, an online test to see if you have Asperger’s syndrome (I don’t) and I scored way above normal on empathy.) I think this is happening to me in real life too. I’m taking on someone else’s anger. I’m letting myself be hurt by actions that were not meant for me.

I have become the supporting actor in my own movie. My life isn’t about me.

That sounds strange to say, maybe even depressing, but after a moment, I found it to be freeing. My job here, in the movie now, is to support, is to let someone else’s story shine.

I had my chance (David said, when I had accomplished my career goal of acting professionally and burned out at 28, that I hit my mid-life crisis.) – I have had my dream job, I have travelled to amazing places and had great adventures, I have pursued my passions, I am experiencing true love.

As a mother to an infant, it is hard impossible to keep the starring role. A friend told me, after I quit my job (one of them…) after I realized I couldn’t keep up with it and a baby, that “Women could have it all, just not at the same time.” Maybe that isn’t true for everyone, but it is for me. I thought I could do all things, be all things, all at the same time. But I can’t. And it is ok. It is even really good for me to learn that lesson. Abraham needs me now in a way he never will again. I want to enjoy it, not rush through it.

As a step-mother, I definitely don’t have the starring role. Step-parenting is a supporting position. Again, it is ok. The kids need supportive adults in their lives. I am not their mom, but I am one of their parents, and I try to be present for them without being pushy. I’m waiting stage left in case they need me.

As a stay-at-home wife, I’m a supporting actor too. I’m obviously contributing to the family, taking care of keeping the house clean, full of food (sometimes even cooked food!), comfortable, and alive. Not literally, but you know…functioning for all of us. David comes home from work and talks to me about interesting physics he figured out (and that I don’t really understand), and I tell him how much dog hair I vacuumed up and the cute thing Abraham did that day. Not exactly world changing stuff from me, but if I weren’t doing it, our family’s world would be very different.

I’ve been reflecting on my personality lately, and I don’t even know if I am main character material. I am shy. I don’t like talking to people I don’t know. I don’t really like talking on the phone to anyone (except my family). I have passion, but not ambition. I am a quiet leader, preferring to lead by example than to rally the masses. This is not necessarily the make up of a main character.

I keep telling myself that in 5 years, Abraham will go to school and I can be a person again. I can begin to take my time rather than stealing it. I can really practice yoga again, make theatre, engage in my community. Until then, I’ll be here when you need me.

Blog Break

Well, it’s been a while.

I didn’t really know what to write. After my aunt died, I felt like any other writing would be trite.

I also feel like I’m on a merry go round, thinking about the same things all the time.

So how about this, to get back into the swing of things. How about a general update of what we have been Doing. Then, maybe next post, we’ll get around to what we have been Being.

Abraham freaking loves to be outside. He reaches and whines (yes, whines at 9 months…what can I do about that?) for the door and giggles when we go outside. He is content to run walk errands all over West Reading in his stroller (taking off his hat and laughing whenever he remembers he is wearing a hat), get carried in the Ergo when I walk with the Mamas, or play at the park. For literally hours.

We celebrated David’s birthday. I bought him a book. We went out for pizza.

Abraham and Nathan helps Daddy open his present

It snows. In October. We were actually in New York, visiting David’s family, that weekend. They lost power in their home around 2pm, so we lit a fire and played Settlers of Catan all night. Grandpa made lasagna in the gas grill.

We didn't even have out winter coats!

And for Halloween, Abraham and I passed out candy on the porch for a little while before bedtime. I wore the Lasagna Suit (that I made for a Young Playwrights’ Festival of yore) and Abraham dressed up as a Chef. That lasted about 3 seconds.

The Chef Prepares...to take off his hat.

I’ve also been working on my play, making dinner, washing diapers and other stinky laundry, teaching a drama club at the Boys and Girls Club, getting ready to teach a drama club at Reading High, and finishing up a yoga class series. And trying to sleep and read for fun. Not to mention yoga and crafts.

More significant reflection coming soon.

Up All Night

Oh man.

I love Will Arnett, who I will always think of as GOB from Arrested Development (the funniest show no longer on television).  And I love Maya Rudolph, especially in that movie, Away We Go. And The Blonde Lady is funny too.

They made a TV show about being a parent and working to much. And liking both parenting and working. And being a stay at home parent. And really wanting to go out with your partner and do fun things like drink to much and sing terrible karaoke (ok, David and I wouldn’t do that – we’d eat too many tacos and sing Sacred Harp Music, but you know).

Is it ok that I teared up at the end? I’ll blame it on breastfeeding hormones. This show is not super great, but really hits a nerve.

It reminded me of something a friend from my old congregation told me when I quit my job there. A previous employee, who had recently become a new mother, told him, “Women can have it all, just not at the same time.”

Have you seen the show? What do you think? Can women have it all? What does that even mean “it all”?

Woman

My good friend, the Incredible Exploding Head, just wrote a great piece about being a Woman. Mostly having to do with being a Mother vs. Not. She got me thinking about my own mother-ness.

I had a rough day. I’ve had a rough series of days. I shouldn’t: I have a sweet, funny baby who is very easy going, a devoted and kind husband, a comfortable home, some interesting work. Even friends. In town. Nearby!

But I have very little time that is my own. Which I expected when I decided to have a baby. But I didn’t realize how intense it would be to be needed all the time.

I think of myself as an introvert and an extrovert. I usually feel shy, not quite knowing what to say, but at the same time, wanting to be with people. I used to (wait, I still do) work/write at a cafe, not in my home office (what home office – ha!). I like taking classes. I like sitting in audiences. I don’t really like talking in front of people (acting is different…).

The introvert part of me needs alone time to reboot. A 7 minute shower every morning isn’t enough.

Most people don’t talk about this part of being a mother. The part where you stop being you.

I keep thinking to myself, when Abraham goes to school, I will practice yoga for real. I will start a theatre company. I will read books quickly. I will be me again.

This is a terrible approach. I am me. I am the same person who wanted to have a baby in the first place. If I put myself on the shelf (sorry for that rhyme), how can I be a good mother, dare I say my ideal mother, for Abraham? How can I be a good wife, step mother, friend, anything? Much less artist, teacher, leader…

I feel terrible every time I leave Abraham with a babysitter or even David, because I love leaving. I love going to the coffee shop with my laptop and writing. I love going to the yoga studio and teaching. I love meeting my friend for lunch and brainstorming theatre ideas for the company we want to get off the ground.

Which is not to say that I don’t love being with him. I do. I do so much. I love watching him discover the world. I love that when he cries a little, it shocks me because I think of him as a person not really a baby. I love watching him eat, sleep, poop, laugh, read…everything. But I love it most when I feel most like myself. Which is when I spend some time taking care of my, not him, not David, not anyone else.

I wish I could do both and not feel bad about either.

So, like the Head, who got my brain going in the first place (Head, you are so good at that. I miss you!),  I want to make the next part of my like pretty fucking cool. In Reading, PA.

I’ve got to figure out how to start.

Natural

Abraham was recently pictured on Natural Parents’ Network on their Wordless Wednesdays feature about food. After he was pictured and I shared the link with my family and friends, I wondered to myself if I am actually a natural parent. What does that really mean?

There is a long list of what it means to be a natural parent on their website.

I prepared to have a natural birth at a birth center, but I found on my due date that Abraham was breech, so we had a c-section and it wasn’t so bad.

We went around and around about the decision, but we circumsized Abraham because we are Jewish and that heritage is important to us, even though we still wrestle with our choice.

I nurse Abraham and intend to as long as we both are enjoying it, but I also supplement his nursing with formula to keep him on the right weight track.

He sleeps with us, but I’m looking forward to getting would love to get him to sleep on his own so I can have a little space and time back to myself.

I fed him food at 4.5 months old (which is a bit early) but he was full-body-lunging for it. I also give him food that is not organic or local. Local is preferred, but the child loves avocados, which aren’t exactly native to Pennsylvania.

I have 3 different baby carriers, all of which I love to use, but damn, it is nice to push him in a stroller in this hot weather.

We are vaccinating Abraham on a regular schedule. We feel it is our responsibility to him and to our community to ensure that diseases that have died out stay gone.

What is most true is that I hate all of these parenting labels. They are shortcuts, sure, but they are also pegboards. I never have enjoyed being pegged (though I think I’m pretty predictably peg-able…) in any position, especially being a mother.

So that’s it. I’m a mother. I’m a step mother. Those describe my relationships to my kids. That is all. Every choice I make as either is not because I’m a natural parent, a free-range parent, a whatever parent. It is just because I’m a parent and I’m always trying to do the right thing for each of my kids.

Crafting Again

Hooray! I finally made something (besides a baby, that’s a pretty creative act)!

pocket/loop travel blanket for Abraham

I have several (like 50) projects bookmarked, many for baby, some for me or others, and I made this little blanket for Abraham. It turned out to be very cute, yet sophisticated (for a baby blanket…).

no, abraham is not reading Ibsen (his books are upstairs and i needed a stand in)

The tutorial is easy to follow if you want to make your own. It is basically a blanket with little pockets and loops around the edges. You can place books or whatever in the pockets and link toys to the loops. There are also velcro tabs that you can use to strangle Sophie the Giraffe.

We are traveling by plane to Pensacola in July to see the family, and I thought this would be handy to have to keep his things together. Practical, practical!

loopies!

PS – I used a baby blanket we had around the house for the back (it’s blue, I forgot to photograph it), 50% off fabric for the front of the blanket, and ribbon I had at home or bought with a coupon from the fabric store. So it was pretty thrifty too!

Eating is Yoga

So much of Abraham’s life has been so easy. He is adorable, happy, healthy, easy-going…I could go on. And I have found being a mother (not just a step-mother) to be quite easy too. I’m a little sleepy and a little slobbered-on, but I really can’t complain.

I keep rubbing up against his eating. I’ve written before about breast feeding him. I am still breastfeed him, and I intend to as long as he wants to (the WHO recommends 2 years!). We also give him bottles as a supplement, 8 or 10 ounces a day. I hate it. Every time I give him a bottle, I feel like I’m failing as a mother. Because I WANT to nurse him and I CAN’T. Because in 2003, I choose to have a breast reduction. It was badly needed and I don’t actually regret it. I just wish I could have both small boobs and milky boobs.

We went to the pediatrician today and Abraham is still small. Gaining weight and height, but a little too slowly. So more formula for him and solid food.

The food I’m excited about. He wants to eat – he sits on my lap at dinner and lunges toward the tables, reaches for my water glass, and of course puts everything, edible or not, into his mouth. I even shared my banana with him last night – he sort of licked it a while, then tried to suck. He yelped when it was finished.

He yelps when his bottles are finished too. He is hungry (how ironic that he is wearing his Very Hungry Caterpillar outfit today…”but he was still hungry”). He isn’t starving, but he wants more. And it is so hard for me to give it to him. Because every bottle feels like a failure.

I run to him when he cries from a nap, I kiss his tummy to make him laugh, I work so hard to give him a happy and comfortable life. Why can’t I enjoy feeding him a bottle?

David said to me, on our way home from the pediatrician’s office, “it doesn’t seem very yogic to not feed him” and I know it isn’t. It is selfish, it is my ego wrapped up in my identity as a breastfeed-er. I have met most of my mom friends at La Leche League for goodness sake.

I can still be a breastfeed-er and give my child a bottle or 3 to make sure he grows well. He will get the health benefits from breastmilk and breastfeeding and the caloric benefits from formula. I can snuggle him as he drinks his bottle and snap photos when he holds it himself.

How is this practicing yoga, you ask? Yoga is defined several times in the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali. My favorite sutra (literally thread, a piece of an idea) of late is 1.12: Abhyasa vairagyabhyam tan nirodhah – The mind is stilled by practice and dispassion.

Parenting, like yoga, is a practice. It is done uninterruptedly, with devotion, over a long time (sutra 1.14). My goal as a parent, especially to Abraham (versus the big kids where I am a secondary parent as their step-mom), is to be completely present for him and give him what he needs but then step back and let him fly. Giving him bottles is part of that.

And now I will wipe the tears out of my eyes and get a bottle ready for when he wakes up from his nap (to give him after he nurses of course).

so proud of his hand-to-mouth dexterity

ADDITION: Friends, don’t worry. I may feel like a failure of a mother inside, but I know he will be ok and I will be ok. It is a feeling and only a feeling. I appreciate your kind, private words of encouragement.

EBF

I am Exclusively Breast Feeding Abraham. This experience is a big deal.

All of my time and thoughts and physical comforts are devoted to his nourishment. What a gift to be able to feed someone else and also what a lot of work.

When I say all of my time, I’m not really exaggerating. He nurses almost constantly. David doesn’t get to hold him as much as he’d like (or I’d like – they need to bond too!), but I get lots of time with the babe.

I went to the Farmer’s Market today with my friend from Childbirth Class. Abraham slept the whole time, but I was worried he’d wake up and cry to eat. I am not quite ready to feed him in such a public place.

My thoughts are almost all focused on my breasts. Not in a sexy way. When I get dressed, I choose my shirt based on its easy access. I have to make sure I’m drinking enough (I’m probably not…) and eating well. I have to keep an assortment of creams nearby to keeping the breasts happy between meals.

I feel like a 24 hour buffet. I love it and wouldn’t trade it for anything, but it is nice when he sleeps and takes a break. My poor nipples; I’m worried they will never be the same.

I was worried I wouldn’t be able to breastfeed at all; in 2003, I had a breast reduction. I had no idea, like other women in the same situation, if I would be able to breastfeed. When I was 22 and uncomfortable, I didn’t care so much about it; I wanted my back pain and the attention on my chest to stop. I always said the reduction was the best decision I ever made. But then I got pregnant and I started to worry that it wasn’t. I read about Breast Feeding after Reduction and tried to prepare for whatever was to come.

I’ve been feeding Abraham since he was born. It isn’t without difficulty, but I don’t want to complain. It turns out this experience is what I wanted most – more than a natural birth. I am amazed at my body’s ability and rehability every day, and I try to remember that when it hurts, when I’m exhausted, when I need a moment to myself.

I have been a huge advocate for breast reductions. I still am. If I had not been able to breastfeed would I still be? If something goes wrong and I have to stop, will I still be? How could I have known then what I would feel like now, what would be important to me? And if I have to stop feeding him, because of my past choices rather than a decision based on our current needs, how will I feel?

I try not to worry and just feel grateful that I have this time. That we have the time together.

Twas

Twas the night before Christmas…

And I’m relaxing in bed a bit. I already ate breakfast at 4am  – I’ve been getting super hungry in the very early morning hours. Perhaps I am turning into a newborn before my new one is even born?!

I’m thinking about the word “twas” because so many things are turning into twas-es for me. On Monday, I went to my last yoga class for a while. On Tuesday, I taught my last Neighborhood Bridges class for a while. And one of these days, pretty soon now, I’ll have my last day as a pregnant woman. And my first day as a Bio-Mom.

I never thought I would have to specify Bio-Mom, but it turns out being a step-mom is really important to me. There are two children at my house right now, as they are half of their time, who count on me as a parent. Not their Mom, but another parent. Going from half time to full time, from step to step and bio, from kids to baby – we are all so excited for these changes. But we also don’t really know what to expect.

When David and I got married (our anniversary is tomorrow! Happy Christmas!), we spent a lot of time prepping the kids for the wedding and forgot to prep them for the rest of life together. We all got used to it eventually, pretty quickly actually, and we really feel like a family now. With the baby, we’ve been prepping them for life with a baby, not just the pregnancy and birth (don’t worry, they won’t be there for the birth…).

I think we are all as ready as we can be. But I think once he is born, we will, if even in a small way, miss our time together as 4, the way i’twas.

38 weeks and counting...