Newborn Love

Whenever I imagined my future life with kids, I always pictured them as older children. I had never spent much time around young, young children and even though Zara is almost 3 years old, I still [mostly] have no idea what to do with her. But I do look forward to having older children, who can talk and read and reason and to teaching them from my vast amounts of wisdom and knowledge. (Ha!) I think that time comes around the age of 8, so in the meantime, I'm just trying to survive the early years.

I do, however, LOVE the newborn stage. Love it. Having sweet Adelaide around makes it even more difficult to practice patience with Zara's more colorful antics (especially her current insistence that she do everything herself...even when she realistically can't). And best of all, Adelaide never talks back and never throws tantrums....and if she does, it's generally solved by offering her more milk. Zara is not so easy to appease these days.

I love newborn cuddles and snuggles. I love the way Adelaide burrows her head into the crook of my neck and how I could sit and hold her for hours and be perfectly content. I love the little grunts and groans and snorts she makes when sleeping and I even mostly love her cries for milk or a diaper change. I love watching the various expressions that flit across her face as she sleeps and dreams, from pouty faces to angelic smiles (which show off her little dimples). I love the way she stretches and how she gets milk all over her face when she eats.

It's just too bad that newborns have to grow up. Mostly, that's a good thing. Newborns are a lot of work, but while it lasts, I really enjoy it. My friend, a photographer, needed a newborn model for her etsy shop (where she sells photography props) and I was more than happy to volunteer Adelaide. These are a few of the photos she took of Adelaide last week. I'm still waiting for her to send me the proofs (without her tag) but I just couldn't resist sharing the adorableness that is Adelaide.

Single Parenthood

David is in Paris for the week. He went with a few other students from the MBA program as a way to complete his requirements for his Global Management Certificate, which is basically like a minor in international business. They do a trip to Europe and a trip to Asia each year but since he's already conquered Asia, David decided to do the Europe trip. This is his first time in Europe and he was a little disappointed to go to France (given that there are several other countries in Europe he wanted to visit first) but at least I'm not super rabidly jealous of him since I've been to Paris twice. He's enjoyed some of the sight-seeing and the food, but he's also been sick the last few days and the weather is just as cold there as it is here so it hasn't been the most pleasant trip for him. Maybe he'll share some of his experiences here when he returns.

He left last Friday and will return next Monday. I will be very glad when he returns. Even though David and I had a long distance relationship for the majority of our two year dating relationship, we haven't spent much time apart since we got married 4.5 years ago. We've tried very hard to keep it that way and this is the longest amount of time we've spent apart since then. It's been a lot harder--on both of us--than I think we both expected.

Zara misses her daddy a lot. Every day when I go out to get David's Wall Street Journal, Zara grabs it from me and then runs through the house asking, "Where's Daddy?" so she can give him his paper. She doesn't understand why he's not here.

The experience has given me great appreciation for single parents. I can't even really compare myself to them since it's only 10 measly days apart, but I really don't know how single parents do it day after day. My boss is an incredible example of doing it gracefully and successfully. Her husband died several years ago, leaving her widowed with four children, some still quite young. I know she may not always feel like she's got it all together, but I've been in awe of her and her ability to juggle a full-time career with full-time parenting. She really is incredible.

It's not just doing it alone that seems so hard, it's doing it without the constant support and companionship of someone else. Someone you can talk to, and complain to, someone who is right there in the trenches with you, trying to figure out how to raise a kid without having to send them to therapy for the rest of their lives. Someone you can relax with, someone you can laugh with, someone you can share every moment of your life with. And even though there have honestly been times when I have felt like a military widow or a grad school widow, that I've been shouldering most of the parenting by myself, I never really have. David has always been there to talk me off of ledges, to avert potential mental breakdowns and shower our daughter with his love and attention. He really is the best partner to have in this life.

Can it just be Monday already?

Zara vs. Sleep Part Two

Why is that the harder I try to get Zara on a consistent sleep schedule, the less she actually sleeps? I'm baffled.

After reading some different things (particularly Elizabeth Pantley's The No Cry Sleep Solution) and taking great stock of my needs as the primary care giver and Zara's needs as the primary care receiver, I've made some changes to the way we approach sleep in our home. And for the most part, I'm seeing slow but steadily improving results.

For the last two weeks, Zara has been going to bed between 7:30 and 8 p.m. and for the last week, I've been able to get her to fall asleep on her own (rather than being nursed or rocked to sleep). She still typically wakes up every 2 to 3 hours wanting food or comfort, but in the last week, she has slept in longer stretches. Two nights ago, she slept for 8 hours before waking me up. So the nighttime sleeping is getting better, or at least, more manageable because I know what to expect and how to respond. (Now, I just wish she's stop waking up at 6:30 a.m. every morning.) I've got ideas in place for how to gradually improve her nighttime sleep. Success there!

I've also tried to implement two naps a day. One thing Pantley says is that babies will sleep better at night if they get the sleep they need during the day and a baby Zara's age is supposed to take 2-3 naps per day for an extra 3-4 hours of sleep. So I resolved right away to get Zara on a better nap routine. My goal is to get her to take at least an hour nap in the morning from about 8:30 to 9:30 am and a two hour nap in the afternoon, from 1 to 3 pm. But Zara? Won't sleep during the day.

Well, that's not entirely true. She sleeps for about 30 minutes in the morning and about 1 hour (1 hour and 30 minutes if I'm really lucky) in the afternoon. I think the problem is that now that I have an expectation that she will sleep at these pre-determined (by me) hours and she doesn't meet those expectations, then I get frustrated with her. Whereas before, I simply rejoiced when she'd deigned to sleep anytime, no matter what time.

Expectations....

I should never had gotten them.

Baby for Sale

Most days, I face the challenges of having a baby who doesn't like to sleep with equanimity and perspective. Some days its a real challenge. Some days, you just want to give your baby away to the highest bidder.

Like today, for instance.

Zara went to bed at 8:30 last night and woke up every two hours wanting more food or comfort. By 5:30 a.m., she decided it was time to wake up and play. I tried desperately to get her to go back to sleep and for awhile, she let me just hold her while I drifted in and out of a semi-awake state before she grew tired and wriggled and waggled until she'd wrested her little body free of my arms. I finally being conscious enough to realize that her diaper was soaked so I stumbled into the nursery and with great wailing and gnashing of teeth managed to get a new diaper securely fastened over her cute behind. I did not, however, have the presence of mind or fortitude to snap her pajamas closed.

Despite my pleas and promises that I'd buy her a pony, Zara would not return to sleep. I set her in her crib and returned to the bed, hoping to get a little more sleep on my own, but Zara's ear-splitting shrieks prevented any more sleep from occurring. But after ten minutes of crying, Zara was now sufficiently worn out that she fell back into a fitful sleep in my arms and I retreated back to the bed for a little more shut-eye, Zara passed out on my chest.

I woke 45 minutes later to the feel of something wet near my hand only to discover that Zara had managed to pull her diaper off and was sitting, bare bummed and pleased as punch, in an ever spreading pool of pee, munching on the corner of my phone.

So, resigning myself to a sleepless fate, I cleaned that baby off, secured a new diaper over her nefarious bottom, and went about changing the sheets. The whole time I was secretly contemplating the benefits of selling off my child--she's pretty cute, I bet someone would pay good money for her, right?--and wondering why I was crazy enough to think I wanted MORE kids. But as I was holding Zara in my arms, she turned to me and gave me the biggest innocent baby smile, complete with two newly emerging bottom teeth and I realized that I'd just have to keep her after all. She's way too cute to let go.

But next time, I make no promises.

Bad Mom

Now, I know I've only been doing this for six months so far, but I like to think that I'm a pretty good mom.

But Sunday I felt, for the first time, that I was a horrible, very bad, no good mother.

I was in a hurry Sunday morning, trying to get ready for church. Church has recently moved to an earlier time which means I'm generally running late and David was already at work, so it was entirely up to me to make sure that both Zara and I looked presentable and still made it out the door on time.

Zara was on our bed, playing with her animal book as I was hopping back and forth from the bathroom to the vanity area (where I could keep an eye on Zara). I was fiddling with something when I heard the most horrific sound in the world. The sound of something hitting the hard wood floor and the wail of a baby in distress.

Yup. I'm the horrible mother who wasn't paying attention when her baby rolled right off the bed. (And, as is always the case, the night before David and I been discussing how we probably shouldn't put her on any elevated surfaces since she had started rolling so much.)

Fortunately, Zara was fine. She cried for about five minutes and then calmed down. She has a small bruise on her forehead, but other than that, she had no other external injury. After the accident, I checked the dilation of her pupils, felt for any contusions and bumps and watched for any signs of brain injury. She was acting normal, which according to the books I consulted, meant there was probably nothing to worry about but to watch her carefully for the next six hours. (All good there.)

I would have just skipped church, but I was teaching the lesson in Relief Society so after cuddling Zara for a little bit, I finished getting myself and her ready. Needless to say, we were late to church.

Thankfully, the results of my awful parenting did not lead to serious injury and I will try to be more careful in the future. But I know that despite all my best efforts, accidents will happen. My baby will get hurt. Sometimes it'll be her own fault, and sometimes, I'll probably share some of the blame. I know I can't beat myself up about it, or even shelter my baby from everything--and anyone--that could potentially harm her. As she grows, she'll learn from her mistakes and I have to be willing to allow her to make them. But how, my mother friends, do you deal with the days when you feel like a no good, very bad, awful mother?