My new blog

I have started a new blog... You can now find Mumbling Mommy at :

http://www.mumblingmommy.blogspot.com

This site will remain, if you have a hankering to read the old posts.

Thanks for reading!

Family

Today just made me realize how incredibly blessed my daughter is to have so many awesome people who love her...

When I was pregnant, I remember wondering how I would ever be able to make it with my own "family" living so far away in Indiana... I considered packing up my huge (at the time) self, and saying good bye to Florida life forever. After all, it wouldn't be fair to my daughter to not have family (aside from me) around her.

But instead of boxing up a job I loved, and packing away some of the best moments of my life lived here in FL, I determined that I was going to give it a shot right here. After all, my parents said, the door would always be open in Indiana if I needed to walk back through it. My Dad said, "Don't assume failure... assume victory, and see where the pieces fall."

And from the moment I decided to plant some roots right here, things began to improve in my favor. I was offered a safe, beautiful home to live in, with an awesome and understanding roommate -- a home where Emme has her own pink nursery, I have my own purple bathroomand even my dog was welcomed.

My aunt, who has coached over 50 women in childbirth, was only 2 hours away, and made it in time for my delivery.

My job told me that it was "silly" to do work there that I could just as easily do at home. So my daughter gets to see my face (um....good or bad?) every morning, and I still get to see my colleagues pretty regularly and make connections in my field.

And I've been exceedingly grateful for these, and so many other, things since becoming a mom. But above all else, I am most thankful for the family that Emme is surrounded by everyday -- both biological, and otherwise.

She has awesome grandparents, always looking for a reason to see her (um, kate, I think you might have left a blankie here... maybe you should come pick it up?)

A terriffic aunt, and rather silly, but well-meaning uncle...

A babysitter known as "Nana" -- who dresses her up for Halloween in September and never wants me to take her home.

A roommate who can make her giggle, always... and another roommate just a few months younger than her who she tries to talk to in "baby chat."

Two "aunties" who let her play in their swimming pool, spit up on their nice clothes and sleepover if mommy has to work late...

She has the support of all my co-workers, both from the newspaper and from the restaurant, who woud probably all give her the shirt off their backs if her lower lip so much as quivered...

And she has her Dad... who is still learning, just like me, how to be a good parent, but loves her unconditionally...

This isn't a traditional family tree, but it's the most incredible safety net of people I could ever hope my child could have.

And when you factor in the family and friends so many miles away who feel the same way about her, it's staggering.

So, if you are one of the important people in my daughter's life (which is just about everyone that I know) -- thank you. Whether there are golden leaves falling off the tree outside your window, or palm trees swaying in the breeze, you are family.

And there's no place like home...

Teething

So I definently have a new hero... my daughter. And no, it's not for all those corny reasons that people give like, "her brave soul" or "her incredible innocence" or any of that. Give me a glass of red wine or two, and I might start saying those things... but i digress...

I'm in admiration of her tonight because there are razor sharp pieces of solid calcium pushing their way through her tiny, soft delicate gums. In other words, she is getting a tooth.

It's like just when she got used to life on this bizarre planet -- with all it's loud people and hot, sticky weather and general yuckiness -- life says, "but wait, there's more! How about piercing pain in your mouth, and excruciating awfulness, even though you have done nothing to deserve it!"

And yet even as I fuss over her, she looks up at me with those baby blues and it's like she's saying, "It's ok Mom. I'm tough enough for the both of us."

So she's a drooling, chewing, cranky mess. But somehow she's still calm through it all. And I know that I need to get used to the fact that she will go through things in life that I can't just "fix" for her, and I might as well learn that lesson early.

Today it's teeth, tomorrow it will be falling on her butt, in 15 years it will be a boy that I'll want to strangle for breaking her heart.

But she will survive it all -- just like every girl has done before her. Now we will just have to see about her no-so-tough mommy...

Slipping Through My Fingers...

Listening to the hits of Abba sung by Meryl Streep and the girl from Mean Girls (you know, the dumb one) had me in tears tonight. Not because either one was especially Oscar-worthy or stupendous (though they were quite good), but because Meryl was a single mom, who raised a beautiful and intelligent daughter and the whole movie is the night before said-daughter's wedding.

I actually had Emilia with me, thinking she would sleep through the whole thing, but she watched the movie and grooved her little bobble head to the tunes. Holding her tiny hand, I realized that someday her and I will be in the same situation.

It might not be the night before her wedding, or on a gorgeous Greek Island, but one day I'm going to look at that sweet face and realize that she's not my little girl to hold onto... but instead, an adult. And just like the movie, I hope that she wants me there anyway.

I'm not sure why the waterworks are coming on so strong now. I've been a daughter and had a mother of my own my whole life. But the world provides a whole new view through the Mommy window...

So I guess I'm doomed to cry at every movie, song, poem, haiku, bumper sticker and kitchen magnet that mentions daughters, or mothers, or growing up.... forever, I guess.

Bring it on home, Abba...

"Sleep in our eyes, her and me at the breakfast table
Barely awake, I let precious time go by
Then when she's gone there's that odd melancholy feeling
And a sense of guilt I cant deny

Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see whats in her mind
Each time I think I'm close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time"

My new vocabulary...

I've oft been accused of using rare and unusual words both in my writing and normal language. My children's literature professor used to write KISS on my stories... (no, it wasn't a proposition. it means Keep It Simple Stupid). Sometimes I'll say or write a word and not even know where it came from, or why I thought it necesssary to say it at that moment...

Here's a rundown of some of the newest words and phrases I find myself saying lately...

Bumbo, boppy, binky, boo, Elsie-bug, diapie, feetsies, sleepy-sleep, boogie-bear, Snugli, gassie-bubbles, burpies, onesies, Chunky Monkey, noodle, kissy-boo, pajama jam (as in, "let's have one!") and wiggle-worm...

It's not like she even understands any of these items yet, so I could call them anything I wanted, like disposable infant underwear, or upright plastic seat. Or I could call her my "highly active infant" or my "robust daughter." But somehow these things just don't roll off the tongue...

The truth is, it won't be long before she's correcting me and telling me, "No Mom, I'm a kindergartner not a cuddle-bug." So why not use make-believe words and silly phrases for awhile?

It might be the only time I can get away with it...

A few words...

on what I look like right now.

I was about to walk out the door and looked down and realized that there was a spot of spit up on my black pants. Low and behold -- there was a twin spot on the other pant leg. Then I realized I hadn't shaved my legs for a few days, and it was pretty obvious. Ok... time to change my pants.

Then I noticed that my shirt was especially wrinkled, from sitting underneath a pile of baby clothes for a few days. And my necklace was on wrong -- with the gemstone facing in, not out.

My hair is a huge grease ball, just piled on top of my head for now. I was wearing flip-flops until I realized that my nail polish was chipped, so now it's slip on closed-toed flats.

My purse is tan, even though my outfit (new and old) is black -- but I don't have the energy to transfer all the necessary items to a black purse.

But don't worry... Emilia looks great in her ocean blue onesie and ruffle-butt skirt/shorts that match her bright blue eyes.

And the truth is, it wouldn't matter if I had my act together and looked like a super model right now -- because all anyone would see is my adorable baby anyway.

So wrinkles, stubble, grease, chipped nail polish and spit up stains be damned. I'm heading out the door.

Insomniac Baby

My baby is an insomniac (hence the title). Due to this fact, I am a bit loopy right now (hence the redundance of the title and first sentence).

It's not that she doesn't sleep exactly. It's that she fights and fights falling asleep in the first place. If I can rock, sing, read, feed, burp and coax her into drifting off, she stays that way for a few hours. But as the weeks go on, she is getting smarter and more savvy about the "time-to-go-to-sleep" tricks that Mommy has up her sleeve. Just as her eyelids are about to slam shut, they flutter open again and focus on the ceiling fan. Sigh. Time to try again...

And even though her non-sleeping is wearing me out royally, it occured to me tonight that I don't blame her for wanting to stay awake. Look at how much changes every time she gives in to a nap?

About 2 months ago she was sleeping peacefully, warmly wrapped in the womb. The next thing she knew, she was blinded by bright lights, being pushed and prodded by dozens of strangers and expected to be adorable and baby-like for the entire world. On "errand day" last week, she woke up at 9 different places. No joke. Once in her pack n play, twice in the car, once at a government office, once at Target, once at Kohl's, once at Starbucks, once at a friend's house, once at the bank and once at the library. For a person who was content living an entire exsistence in solitude in a warm goo, errand day is a bit ridiculous. Everything changes so fast that she doesn't want to miss any of it to sleep.

And tonight as I gazed down at her 10-pound body, fighting off sleep with every inch and ounce, I realized that I should be thankful for my own lack of sleep. Every day her faces changes a little more, and her arms and legs get longer. In the mornings, her cries for food have been replaced with smiles and gurgles (and then cries when I take too long with the bottle) and her afternoon fussiness is slowly being filled with enjoying storytime. I saw a newborn a few days ago, and she looked nothing like my Emilia. She looked like Emilia used to look -- not all that long ago. Every moment that I have with her is one that I will never get back.

So I may need to put a little extra concealer under my eyes for awhile. Soon enough I will be poking and prodding her to get up out of bed and get ready for school.

And I'm sure I'll long for the days when I tailored Andrew Lloyd Weber's greatest hits to accommodate the name "Emme" and sat up blogging, just waiting to hear her sleepy cries.