our weekend in pictures

Kind of funny how a weekend with so very little done, could be so completely wonderful.

Happiness.

How my faith in humanity became renewed. Or...Why we love daddies.

I do believe I have discovered the secret that allows women to travel with their children and no husband on planes...


Pity.

I know how I looked to other travelers on my short little jaunt to California, sans Mike. I could feel and see them looking at me, though I would often pretend that I didn't. Truth be told I felt rather uncomfortable knowing people were watching as I lugged my oversized carry on, diaper bag and extra large mama purse (no checked bags for me thank you) and child via sling down the aisles of the plane, bumping into anyone sitting in the aisle seat. I didn't like feeling eyes stare at me as I tried to gobble down a turkey sandwich over my slinged baby knowing I'm getting crumbs all over her head. I knew I looked pathetic, and truthfully much of the time I was struggling. But just when I felt like screaming with frustration someone would surprise me. I don't think I once put together my stroller because everytime I started fumbling with it while trying to juggle my child some little angel would pop out of nowhere with "ma'am, can I help you with that?"

Why yes. Yes kind little helper, you sure can.

My child is beyond wiggly. Just when you think she is entertained by one thing she if off to the next thing. It is exhausting to keep her entertained in small confinements like plane seats. And so the nice man who donated half of his seat and his tray table for our sprawl certainly has a special place in my heart. The plane attendant who held her so I could pee was like a saint that day. And also the lovely. tolerant couple who sat behind us and goo'ed and ga'ed with her, because Ellie decided they were they most fascinating people on the plane and insisted on staring at them frequently. But even still as I got off of our returning plane and I looked back at our seat, covered in cheerios and crumpled paper and skrunched up napkins I thought so help me God I will never do this again. And then some kind woman asked me if she could help me with my bag.

And so people really surprised me. I wasn't expecting this kindness but it sure was appreciated. Because sometimes you really do need the help. Sometimes you feel as pathetic as you look. Sometimes two hands aren't enough. So thank you humanity. My faith in you just got bumped up a notch!

In the end, it was worth a trip to see La La.

Eleanor Grace is 9 months old.

9 months.

It took 9 months for you to grow inside of me.

And now you have grown 9 months in this world.

You were born so small, little 8 pound child who could not support her head.

In 9 months you can eat, and crawl, and walk along the couch.

You can babble and laugh. You love your mama and dada.

You learn new things daily, at almost lightning speed,

and you are very proud of your accomplishments.

You look to me for accolades every time you perform a new feat,

like mastering a toy, or eating with a spoon.

Today you absolutely love standing, and you pull yourself up to everything.

Everything.

Even things that have no height, like books

You will plant your hands on top of the book and stick your butt

straight up in the air, like you are standing on it.

This makes you very proud.

Then you'll look to me with your toothy grin.

And I'll match you back.

I've never grinned so much so much as I have in these 9 months.

I've never felt such pride.

I've never loved so fiercely.

I'm amazed at the power of 9 months.

You were once just a thought between your mom and your dad

and now you are our beautiful daughter.

Ever growing.

Ever enchanting.

You are such light in our lives.

Short hair does not an old lady make.

Today I was trying desperately to get my baby fed, manage my work phone, take care of some personal needs, all the while needing to get into the car to bring the cat to the vet. So as I'm loading all my precious cargo into my overly messy car, I caught a glimpse of myself in the window reflection.


Good God, I look old!

I know I'm still young in some ways. I'm 32, certainly not forking away money for the funeral plot. But I feel old. I see these new wrinkles, the gray hairs that are slowly popping up, the parentheses that are around my lips. My usually vibrant eyes seem more dull. My skin is dry. My hair was cut short yesterday and resembles my mental image of a high school librarian. And well, I just don't feel very pretty. At least not today.

It is no coincidence that my new leap in granny pants coincides with having a baby. Now, post baby, I'm really seeing that I have just jumped into a new life bracket. I am the 30 something mom now. My mental state reflects this new era. My once carefree, nomadic days are over. I got me a jobby job and a youngin. And an old ball and chain. And I've learned new, ever so adult skills, like how to juggle a carseat with baby, baby bag, gym bag, work bag, pumping bag, all the while talking on the phone and drinking a cup of coffee. I've got mad skills.

So I'm certainly not applying for my AARP anytime soon. And I'm not busting out the AquaNet to manage my perfectly feathered do. So I guess I could embrace this new life, which of course is silly to write because of course I have. Most days. I live in an insanely beautiful place, and Ellie will be over a year old this summer and will be more open to new life experiences. This is where I think I have some control over my old lady ways. I can still experience the freedom of summer living, just now I have a little buddy, and a whole lot more responsibility. But man, her little eyes reflected back at me, filled with awe, filled with excitement over all the newness that is in her little world, THIS makes me feel vibrant. And though I am her role model and mom, and none of those things are new to me, they feel fresh again. And life can feel fresh again. And I do believe that remembering THIS is the magical remedy to bring some youthfulness into my inner old lady. So today I am making myself remember that. Because reflections can sometimes send you for tizzies.

So take THAT car reflection! Put that in your pipe and smoke it!

fortune

Happy Valentine's day.

I don't know how they do it.

I've got this funky computer training thing going on every day this week. It requires me to leave the house by 7:30, and then return home at 5:30. And so to sum it up, this royally sucks. It breaks my heart in the morning when the nanny comes over and Ellie is screaming and crying while holding her arms out to me. Breaks. My. Heart. And so then I think well why should I complain, people all across America are doing this schedule every single week, and oh so many of those people have kids. Wow I'm bitchy. But see here's the thing....I've been soooo spoiled. But here's the other thing...I'm a nurse. And I knew getting into this profession that I would be blessed with flexibilility and the ability to have multiple days off in a week. So that's just what I know now. And really this week I've been thanking my lucky stars that I sucked it up and got that degree because if I had to do the 8-5 thing I would probably become either a) overweight, b) bitter, or c) an alcoholic. Or for me, probably d) all of the above. Now let me say that I have TOTAL AND COMPLETE respect for all of you out there who work this "normal" schedule. You are part of making our world run as it does, and I thank you thank you thank you. But for me, I'm feeling pretty satisfied with my career choice right now, even though there are days that I feel the need to completely strip at the front door in order to avoid contaminating my household. We may get some sweet schedules, but there's a lot of shit that we have to deal with to get that. Figuratively. And, well, literally, too.

So my posts are uber lame this week. As it is I had to set my alarm early just so I could have a little one on one time with the ol laptop. We miss each other. When I get that morning cup of coffee and finally sit down to ol' lappy, well it's like coming home. It's contentment, it's excitement. It's creativity. It's ME TIME. And so I realize what my biggest beef about this whole schedule thing is, the biggest thing that I have respect for all ya'all out there who maintain it every week, and that is: there are truly not enough hours in the day.

well I guess that's the life of a rock star....

Mike and I enjoyed each other's company Saturday night while playing some Rock Band. Again. Except this time we added a new twist...tequila shots.
And see, well I don't really drink ever, and my system is weak. So while we had a blast, complete with hair gel and mascara for both of us (think Gene Simmons), well the next day was, how shall we say this, less desirable. Which saddens me because I had such high hopes for the weekend. Frankly I don't know how single moms do it. If Mike hadn't been there to help me with Ellie, then I could see myself going through every number in my cell phone until I found someone that could come help. Being sick now sucks so much more because you simply have to do things now. Like watch your child, keep her safe, feed her, change her diaper. Throwing up in the toilet must be rearranged around these events.

In other news, well I've made a big change in my job. I'm switching to the night shift. Right now, as a hospice nurse, I have my own designated set of patients that I visit in their homes throughout the week. I won't have that anymore. The night shift is sort of like the emergency room for hospice. It's symptom management, pain crises, and a lot of deaths. But what this change means is only 3 nights a week of working, sleeping at home in my own bed if I'm not called out, and most importantly, being there with my little Ellie Bellie all day. Worth every ounce of change.

It's a phase....right???

Here's the thing:
I love my kid. LOVE her. Didn't-know-you-could-love-like-this love her. BUT, here's the other thing: I don't like to be with her 100% of every day. I like to walk away and do things for me, like get dressed and work and make lunch. And this point seems to be where me and the little munchkin differ.

I know that separation anxiety exists, but this seems different. Ellie needs to have me within sight of her. She could be happily playing with a toy, and God forbid I take small steps away and oh the freaking horror if I actually go into another room! If there are other people in the room and I'm sitting behind her she will actually put her arms behind her to hold on to me, to make sure I'm there.

Is this normal? Because it's slowly driving me insane.

I've done all that I can think of with her. I've caved in and just held her. I've kept her in a safe area and just let her cry. I put her in the baby wrap and go about my business, which btw, she's happy as a freaking clam! She apparently doesn't need toys. She needs constant contact. Then she is blissfully happy, laughing and cooing and waving her arms and legs. It's adorable, yes. No really it is just adorable. But still, mama needs a break. I honestly don't know what to do. I know she has to learn at least a small amout of self-soothing. I know letting her cry some doesn't hurt her. I know she's safe. I know these things and yet tell me as the decent human being that you are that your heart wouldn't break in two when you leave your bawling baby on the living room floor while you turn the corner for the quickest bathroom run ever only to find your newly crawling baby pathetically inching her way along the house with tears STREAMING down her face all because she's looking for you, her MAMA and needing you to hold her and love her.

OH MY GOD!!!

Seriously, oh my God. And to offset this complete inability to take care of my own interests during the daytime hours I end up staying up until 1am most nights because I am too blissed out in my own "me time" to call it quits and end the night. Nighttime has become my private sanctuary time. Which of course feeds the vicious cycle of sleep deprived mom trying to get through the day with a reasonable amount of sanity in tact. In the short history of my career as a mama, these past couple months have had me oh just the teensiest bit on edge.