Who's on First?

Today we spent the evening at the emergency room, which I realized too late was more for my child’s amusement than was medically necessary. Fortunately, it was a waste of time and money. Anyway, when we got home she wanted to play “Doctor” so she handed me a green plastic work glove and said “Mommy, you be the Doctor”. I said “Ok” and donned the glove.

She was the patient (and the Director) and went to the waiting room to “exercise” until I called her. (Don’t ask me why, it’s her show…).
So, I called her and began the same inquiry you hear at the Doctor’s office or ER:

Doctor (Mommy): So, what brings you here today?

Patient (3 yr old): The bus.

Mommy (Doctor), completely breaking character: Laughs hysterically, then tries to rein herself in and resume her role….: “Ok, so why did you take the bus here today?”

Impatient Patient: (she replies as if that was a silly question) “Because I DON’T have a CAR!”

I felt like I was in a vaudeville routine! I love being a Mommy!

The Motherhood Tri-athalon

Motherhood is like running a Tri-athalon – every day. An abundance of energy exudes from little bodies like there is not enough body mass to actually soak it up. Mommy’s larger than before body, on the other hand soaks it up quite readily until it is feeling quite parched for more. Yet the kids keep on running and are ready for the next event!

Today my 3 year old and I ran a marathon of activities. We started in the morning with a drive to Haines Point to enjoy the cherry blossoms with a bunch of Moms and about a dozen kids. We did Arts and Crafts, ran, flew a kite (or the kite flew itself – it was quite windy), romped around on the playground, played with the dog, and romped and ran some more. A few hours later, it seemed a good time to go home for a nap (more for Mommy than child). But, she had other plans. She wanted to stop off at the Horse Stables. “Ok, Just for a few minutes”, Mommy said. We pulled in and went to visit the horses.

It was over 3 hours later when we emerged from horse patting, piggy-back riding, exploring the trails with our big red dog, collecting rocks for our rock garden, exploring the nature center’s turtles (where we ran into a neighbor and friend to play with for the following activities), dancing on the stage, making raccoon footprints in the sand, gazing at bees in the indoor hive, examining a leaf in a microscope, gazing at stars in the planetarium, and yet another trip to pet the horses. Only then did I finally convince my daughter to return to the car to head home for dinner. I strapped her in her car seat and gave her a snack for the ride home. On the lap around the car from her door to mine, I took a deep breath and enjoyed the moment of silence... Ahhhhh. As I got back in the car and put the key in the ignition I heard my daughter ask from the back seat, “Mommy, what are we going to do today?”

Baby Bundle (of anxiety?)

What’s the most anxiety-provoking thing you’ve ever done?
Well, if you’ve ever had a child then say no more. That’s your answer.
You spend the first days in complete awe that you made this little being and then awe is replaced by trying to figure out how to take care of this tiny, fragile life-altering bundle. It is no wonder parenting is fraught with anxiety! Basically, you are obsessed with what you need to do to keep them alive and help them thrive. Just when you have it down and are into a rhythm, then the next stage comes and you need to figure out what to do next. Even though all they do is eat, sleep, poop and cry, parents can spend hours obsessing on all of the details that entails. Breastmilk or formula, co-sleep or crib, cloth or disposable diapers, cry-it-out or feed on demand? The issues to consider for even the most basic needs can be quite overwhelming. So after researching your options and making those agonizing decisions, it is no surprise that we cling so close to them. After all, if someone else has chosen a different path that they think is right does that somehow make our decision less right? It is just far too threatening to consider. So we defend our decisions in the hopes that doing so will somehow make our child or our parenting okay. But in actuality, whatever choice that you have made, if it works for you and your baby even though it may not have worked for your neighbor – that’s Okay. There are so many options and choosing the right one for you takes not just research but some introspection about what your lifestyle is and what you would like it to be. Ultimately, the child is your litmus test and if the baby is happy then you are probably doing just fine. If you are comfortable with your choice and it works for you then that will most likely translate to a happy household and child. So give yourself a break (and your neighbor) and don’t over-analyze it – just take a bit of time to look inside yourself and ask your gut what’s right for you. Then smile and hug your child, knowing you made your own choice for reasons that are right for you.

Heartbreak

My very first post on this blog was dedicated to my deep appreciation for my child and how she has graced my life with so much joy. It is that joy and love that a parent feels so deeply which can hardly be captured in words. And if that depth of feeling cannot be captured, words can hardly begin to explain the pain of losing a child. I have heard the analogy that “having a child is like having your heart running around outside your body”. We are so vulnerable as parents. From the moment we give birth there is an awesome and somewhat overwhelming feeling of giving life to this being. Each new stage of development gives way to its own stage of vigilance for a parent – from the basics of keeping them warm and fed; then they roll over and we must make sure they don’t roll off the bed; then they crawl and we plug the outets and put fragiles above their reach. But soon they are up on their feet and independently exploring the world and we serve a delicate balance of letting them find their way and providing love and guidance. It is then when your heart is literally running circles around your world and it is impossible to keep up with them. It is then when we are most vulnerable. A tragedy can take your little heart in a moment. I can only imagine how that feels: like you can hardly breathe – a dizzying sensation that struggles to make sense of how such a travesty could happen to an innocent whose whole life was before her. The pit in your chest where your heart used to be weighs far more than the emptiness it is. It is a travesty and no amount of analyzing it could ever make it better, rather would only make it worse. So we keep moving, with broken hearts and heavy minds, we remember all that was good in her short little life and tuck that into our pockets to rub like a souvenir stone while we keep moving and try to heal.