Wish Upon a Star

When I was in high school, I used to wish upon a star to marry my husband, Jon. Every shooting star I saw, I hoped he would ask me to marry him. Once, in a state of hormone-filled loved, I asked him to marry me.

He looked like I had asked him to cut off his left foot with a rusty saw. So I kept on wishing.

Two engagements and eight years later, we did get married. So no more wishing on stars, right?

Wrong.

Two years later, we tried to conceive our first child. Unfortunately, my body was a mess from taking hormonal birth control, and trying to get all of that junk out of my system was quite a challenge. After being so responsible during my early adult years, not getting pregnant and earning my bachelor's degree, then my master's degree, it felt like I deserved to get pregnant quickly.

I love children and I wanted to be a mommy in the worst way. I distinctly recall going to our local bakery one Saturday morning several months after we started trying to conceive. There was a mom there with her four year old son. She ordered coffee and a pastry and told her son to pick what he wanted. He chose a gigantic mint brownie and chocolate milk, as she smiled in a way that said that this was OK with her because it was a special morning. I looked on, wistfully, knowing that these were the moments that I ached for.

And then I cried all the way home and stuffed myself full of doughnuts.

That summer, there seemed to be many meteor showers. Jon and I would hear them announce one on the news and we would wait all day to spend the evening on a blanket, under the stars, pointing out the ones that streaked by to each other. Perfect moments to wish for my baby.

Nine months later, after we had tried for 15 months and I had started giving up hope that we would conceive naturally, I found out that I was pregnant.

Just like marriage, the beginning of motherhood was not easy. But, when I take Amelia out for lunch and she leans over to kiss me and pats my arm while saying "Aww!!", I remember that moment in the bakery and realize that my special memories of motherhood are being made, right now.

At that point, what was there left to wish for?

A job. For my husband.

My entire pregnancy, Jon attended the police academy at our local community college. He had already been in the Marine Reserves for six years and earned his bachelor's degree. During the police academy and the first two trimesters of pregnancy, he worked from 7:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m., then would attend the academy from 5:00 to 10:00 p.m. Monday through Friday. No joke. In some ways, it was the perfect time for me to be pregnant, since Jon got to skip witnessing some of my hormonal swings and I could sleep my little exhausted heart out. And, with a baby on the way, the extra income that a police officer's salary would bring was welcome.

That only took 1.5 years of wishing on stars to accomplish. But it finally did happen.

Last week, on a nice evening after Amelia went to bed, Jon started a bonfire and we sat together, fingers intertwined while we gazed at both the fire's flames and the sky's stars. That's when it happened. I saw a shooting star.

And I had nothing to wish for.

That's not to say that my life is perfect. No one's is. Nor do I believe that all this wishing I do has resulted in our good fortune. I believe that prayer and spirituality, along with a strong marriage, have carried us through the past few years. It still does now, every day. When Jon is stressed over his new, much more stressful and demanding job, it does not seem like a charmed life. But, during that moment by the fire, I realized how much I have, and how very grateful I am.

Wishes do come true.

The First Night Away

It's probably no surprise to everyone that I survived my first night away from my little girl. Really, it was not too terrible. Once I got over being misty eyed in the morning as I departed, and a few real tears as I went to bed that night, I remained upbeat and enjoyed my time away.

But do you know who struggled?

Her daddy.

The truth? I'm a little glad.

Since my husband neglects to read my posts recently, and I found this to be the most unexpected part about my time away, I just have to share.

You know that means this will be the first time he's read my blog in three months, but oh, well.

The daytime was fine. We texted each other and I tried to call during my breaks at the conference in attempts to be able to talk to Amelia. Of course, she was snoozing each time I called. Then when I reached my hotel room that evening, I called Jon and we had a nice conversation where he reassured me that all was well and I should enjoy my time away. So with that, I headed out for the night ready to have fun.

Jon called me again around 7:30 p.m., but of course, I didn't hear my phone ring being that we were dining at Dave & Buster's. I texted that I was eating and would call him later. When I called at 10:30, he was less than happy. At first, I was slightly annoyed that he had ordered me to have a great time but was frustrated that I wasn't answering my phone. However, the truth is my husband was not mad at me, he was nervous and worried. When I thought back to how many times I've felt that way when I've left Amelia with other caregivers, I couldn't help but to feel sympathetic.

With that in mind, I took a deep breath, told him all would be fine and was sorry that I hadn't answered my phone, and ordered him to drink a beer and relax. My friend informed me that Amelia stirred and whined a few times during the night, but all she had to do was roll over and rub her tummy (yes, my friend is a co-sleeper too, how convenient for Amelia!) and she was passed out again. They played in the pool during the day, and I was one happy mama to see my little girl in the evening. Clearly Amelia wasn't too miserable while I was gone though:

This is great news because I will be gone again later this week to go to a concert. This time Daddy will be in charge overnight so that should be an interesting adventure for him. Everyone cross your fingers that Miss Amelia sleeps in her crib all night!

Seperation Anxiety

I woke up at 4:00 a.m. this morning.

FOUR. A.M.

Not because Amelia woke me up. Not because the dog had to go out. Not because some moron was squealing his tires outside of our house.

Because I'm leaving her. All night. Tonight. For the first time ever in 19.5 months.

Part of me is a bit excited. Part of is nervous. The other 75% wants to vomit all over the place.

It's hard to pinpoint my anxiety over this event. I've lined up her care, the friend she is staying with knows her inside and out and has a lot of the same caregiving philosophies that I do, and she is getting daddy time all day today. I've arranged for someone to let our dog out while Jon is at work, repeated to him five hundred times to bring enough diapers to my friend's house and to text me if he has questions.

And still. I can't sleep.

What is it about being away from our babies overnight for the first time? I told my husband yesterday evening that I know part of it is that I know how my brain works versus his. I am the manager of our household. I work from home, I care for the animals, I am the primary parent the majority of the time. Every whine that escapes our toddler's mouth has a purpose, and I know what she needs 99.5% (or more) of the time.  I can calculate in a split second when the last time she ate was, if she wants water, or if it's about time for a diaper change. If an impending molar is the culprit, I know. If she could have used an extra hour of sleep the night before, I'm aware of how that will impact her naptime within a half hour.

With all that said, I know that my husband and my friend will know what Amelia needs. It will just take maybe a few minutes more than it would take me. So, it's totally fine. She will enjoy her daddy time, her slumber party, and her playtime with her toddler friend tomorrow.

Meanwhile, I will be driving with the car radio blasting, eating meals without cutting food up into teeny tiny pieces and wiping strawberry juice off a toddler chin, and enjoying a bed ALL TO MYSELF without having to tend to middle of the night cries or being jabbed in the ribs.

Whether I actually can sleep in that bed is another matter.

I'm In Love, But I'm Not Crazy

The best thing that has happened to me this week was this bundle of joy:

This is Maxwell. Isn't he so handsome?!? Technically, he's my cousin but since his mama, Rebecca, and I are so close, I'm officially "Auntie Amanda". I can't even express how thrilled I am with him already. Before we had Amelia, I was so nervous around babies because I had never had any experience with them. I would hold them more out of obligation post birth, but my comfort level with kids was pretty limited until they were up and walking around.

Now that we've had Amelia, I am obviously way more comfortable with taking care of babies and knowing their needs. I walked into that hospital room Thursday afternoon, demanded him from his grandma, gently scooped him up, and proceeded to rock him and pat his little bottom for two hours, minus the time I allowed Jon to hold him and when little Baby K (my nickname for sweet baby Max before we knew his gender and name) needed to nurse.

I am seriously excited to get back to the hospital today and hold that little bundle of love. I very reluctantly offered to not visit yesterday due to my cousin's exhaustion and recalling how hectic it can be with so many visitors at the hospital. I've taken a personal day on Monday so I can help out with little Max while his daddy is at work. All of my immense love for this wee one is leaving many people to ask:

"Do you officially have the 'itch'?"

They aren't talking about an STD, I'm sure. The answer to either scenario, though, would be a resounding NO.

You dear sweet people have been trying to talk me into getting knocked up again the second that Amelia had her first birthday. That's great for many mama's but it's not for me. Although I do indeed find it sexy to see my husband hold an infant, I have no great need to procreate just because I've been within ten feet of a baby recently. We do have plans to hopefully add to our family in the future, but it's not now.

In fact, I was just reflecting this week how nice our lives are at this point. As a friend's bachelorette party nears, I know I can go out without worrying about Amelia's feedings or how she'll sleep while I'm gone. She is down to one afternoon nap so going out to do things is way easier to plan, or even do spontaneously. Also, most nights Miss Amelia is sleeping all the way through. She has never been a great sleeper and it took her about a year or more to get to a place where she was not exhausting me with frequent feedings or needing to be cuddled throughout the night. As such, I'm in no hurry to add a little screaming infant bundle of joy to our family.

Instead, I'm happy to be the doting auntie, rescuing my cousin from baby/hormone induced insanity, providing meals that she won't have to cook, and being a loving caregiver that she can trust when she and her husband need a night out. When they arrive home, I will gladly hand Mr. Max back over and head home to a full night's sleep. This, of course, is why people are so anxious to become grandparents. They enjoy all the fun of babies and children without all of the work! As an auntie, I'm looking forward to the same privileges. And when we do decide to add to our family again, I know Rebecca will do the same for me, as she did when Amelia was new to the world and I was a frazzled mama.

I also know that when the time is right, Amelia will be an awesome big sister:

With all that said, here's to enjoying life. It's not about what everyone else wants for you, or even what we hope for in the future. It's about what we love, enjoy, and cherish with our friends and family today <3

Young At Heart

Amelia is a Sesame Street addict. We have 22 episodes saved on our DVR and she's seen them all multiple times. Although only 17 months old, she can sit through an entire one hour episode without moving. I can generally judge what kind of day we're having by how many I let her watch by dinnertime. When she was sick recently, I believe we hit a record number of four episodes in one day. I have them all memorized. I know all the songs. And actually?

I love it.

When I envisioned being a mom, all of this 'childish' stuff was exactly what I was looking forward to. Watching cartoons together. Coloring. Playing tea party. I enjoy all of it. When I can take her to her first Disney movie at the theater, I'm pretty sure I will be giddy.

There are rare occasions where I realize that she isn't even paying attention to her cartoons, and I can watch real grown-up TV where they talk about current events and so forth. It takes me about five minutes to turn it back to PBS Kids.

Not because she's whining over it. More because I want to know which cartoons are playing at the moment.

What can I say?

I guess I'm just young at heart.

Here are a few of our (my?) favorite Sesame Street clips:

Who doesn't love Adam Sandler?

NANANANANAAAAAA!!!! Cracks me up every time!

Set your piggies free... we should all remember to get outside and let the grass tickle our toes :)

(Almost) Back in the Groove

This was the post that I started earlier this week:

I've had it. Completely had it.


Little Miss Typhoid Mary, as I am officially now calling her, has given me her rash. I suppose it was inevitable. Luckily we still have some cream that was used to treat her and so now I am anxiously waiting to rinse all this crap off me in eight hours. It isn't as painful or itchy as I imagined, just annoying. And, in the back of my mind, I keep thinking there are worse things that could be happening to us right now.


Despite that, I've had it. I pretty much had a mommy temper tantrum this morning.


My husband listened patiently and promised me sushi as soon as we are well. He apologized profusely for needing to be gone the entire weekend to come due to work. He said all he could think of to get me to calm down and look at the sunny side of life.


Things will be sunny again, right?


Yes. Yes they will. I mean, they have to. Today marks a full week of dealing with fevers, rashes, body aches, doctors appointments, prescriptions, benadryl, tylenol, cancelled plans, whining, and meltdowns. Some have been Amelia's. Some have been my own.

Oh, motherhood. You are indeed a rollercoaster. I will also admit here that I am the mom in my cousin's post who was plotting to create a benadryl induced family nap.

Just admit it. You've thought about (or done!) it too!

We've both recovered from whatever crappy virus that we had and I'm now incredibly behind in housework. Sometime during this week our outfits consisted of maternity pajama pants for me and a red Christmas sweatshirt with rainbow striped pants for her. That was the day that I considered going to a thrift store and just buying us new wardrobes, but alas, I have rallied what's left of my energy after not sleeping for the past three nights (thank you, toddler teething) and done three loads of laundry. It all sits in basement, begging me to fold it.

And yet, here I sit, playing games on Facebook and drinking wine. The healing scabs on my face indicate that I've earned it.

I've said it once, and I'll say it again... Amelia's lucky she's cute, or I'd sell her to gypsies:

Coffee Break

Despite Amelia's snot, it hasn't been a bad week. As stubborn and determined as she can be, Amelia usually stays in good spirits when she's sick. She also seems to have chilled out in the 'whine until Mommy walks me around the house' department. Generally she can talk Daddy into it when he gets home from work, which is nice for Mommy's back.

Although it has not been so bad, I still hit a wall Thursday. I'm not quite sure what happened, but my overall theory is this: you can only spend so much time with someone, whether they are your own flesh and blood or not. Jon thinks this is amplified by the fact that I still co-sleep with Amelia. I think that's complete crap, as somehow I sleep better at this point with her by my side than when she's upstairs. Either way, by Thursday afternoon, I was texting Jon frantically, begging him to watch Amelia for a bit so I could escape.

Jon replied with a 'What in the hell's your problem, calm down, I'll watch her, you don't have to beg!' response. Which is true-- as Amelia gets older, she does better and better with her daddy and he has no problems watching her. I actually think I have some guilt about asking him to care for her. You are saying "WTF is your problem, Amanda? He's her daddy, there's no reason he can't care for her in the evenings." I think of it this way, though: Jon heads off to work everyday while I'm at home, and he still has several property maintenance things that he has to do on our two acres in the evenings. So, when he comes home and I practically throw the baby at him, I feel like I'm shoving one more thing onto his plate. As a result, I rush back home quickly when it's 'mommy time' and probably don't ask for that time as much as I should.

A second issue is, I always realize that many things that I do during mommy time, I could do when I have the baby in tow, so I often back out of time that I could be spending in solitude. Pondering going to a local coffee shop always makes me wonder, what will I do there that's so different from what I do at home? I can both read and browse the internet while watching Amelia, even if I do feel a tad guilty (you see the running theme here-- mommy guilt) about plopping her in front of the TV so I can partake in some kind of activity that doesn't involve diaper changing or episodes of Sesame Street.


I pushed all those thoughts aside when Jon arrived home that evening, dumped many baby belongings out of my bag, packed up my laptop and books, and left the house, radio blaring. That right there was worth the time out of the house. I've had to change very few of my listening habits since most of the music I like is not vulgar in nature, but I do miss the outrageous volume I indulged in at times while driving my car. Parking my car behind Panera and not having to double check my bag for diapers, wipes, toys, cheerios, and sippy cup, nor having to either carry a car seat which is ever increasing in weight or lugging out the huge stroller was freeing too. Not to mention, it is absolutely delightful to get on facebook without having to bounce a baby on my knee or respond to some kind of insistent fussing.

It would seem that God was trying to show me that more frequent mommy time is a good thing, because starting at that time, a string of unrelated positives started happening. Or, maybe I just noticed the good things because I wasn't frazzled any longer. I found a twenty dollar bill in the bottom of my bag. I got a positive e-mail about a job opening that I REALLY want. We had a terrific afternoon yesterday getting ice cream and going shopping. I got an interview for aforementioned job. We had an awesome time as a family at a high school football last night, and I got to catch up with one of my friends at the game.

Spectacular.

It's with this in mind that I'm starting to pencil in mommy time. MOPS group, coffee at Panera, movie with a friend, whatever. My new goal is to start doing this for myself at least once a week. Pushing aside my time because I want to be a good wife and mother was clearly working against me. Giving myself the time to hit the virtual 'refresh' button is not only a gift to myself, but a gift to my family. I came home that Thursday evening with not just coffee breath, but a smile on my face, hugs to give, and patience to pass around. Definitely a lesson learned while on the path of parenthood.

Naughty Little Monkey Update

After my rant earlier this week, I'm sure some of you wonder how much sanity I have left. That's pretty much up for debate on any given day. However, the short answer is, yes, things have improved. The day that I wrote that long complaint about her behavior, she was pretty even keeled all day, and then a nice surprise-- my parents came to babysit for a little bit. I'm guessing that my dad was a little concerned about me doing something drastic after reading my post that day. I think this makes a good, practical point about parenting-- it's always best to ask for help when you need it and to be honest about your feelings. If I had written some BS about how great mommyhood is, would anyone have offered help? No. Oh, and it helps to have awesome parents too ;) [wink, wink, Mom & Dad].

I'm also getting a few new products to help keep Amelia amused. I had originally bought Amelia a Chicco Activity Baby Walker. My friend's son loves his and it was half off at Meijer, so I thought surely this would help. She likes playing with the front of it, but refuses to push it. She gets angry and reaches backwards in a desperate attempt to find my hands so she can walk while using me for balance. So, that was pretty much an epic fail, although my cat likes the side levers. Yep, pretty much a seventeen dollar cat toy.

I had thought about buying a Juppy Baby Walker or some Baby Walking Wings, but was a bit concerned that she would hate them and then I'd have to mess around with returning whatever I bought. However, I posted something on Facebook about wanting recommendations, and a mommy offered to let me borrow some walking wings. I'm picking them up on Sunday and hope they help! Then I decided it was time that we got a wagon for Amelia. I wanted to ask for one for Christmas, but frankly, I'm desperate for additional things to do with her that will keep her fairly immobile. My mom found a Step 2 Wagon at Once Upon a Child-- has cup holders and everything. Amelia will be cruising down our driveway before we know it.

Last night was really nice because she went to bed by 9:30 p.m. (early for her, considering that she is often up till 10 or 11-- no criticism, please) and then she slept in her crib till 3:00 a.m. This is the longest she's done this since we came home from vacation. However, I must have bumped the volume on the monitor and she had been crying a while before I heard her-- she was completely freaking out (um, hence the reason we don't let her cry it out), screaming and acting like someone was hurting her. She calmed down quickly when I picked her up, but by now she was wide awake and stayed that way until 4:15 a.m. UGH. Perhaps I should mention here that I'm running a 5 mile race today. Yep. And, we have plans in the afternoon, so me napping while she does will probably not work out. Sigh.

Thankfully, we are coming up on a weekend, which means I will get some additional help from her daddy. And it's awfully hard to be upset in the morning when you wake up next to this little ham. I call this the Crazy Hair Series:

Mommy vs. Mommy

I've shared before that motherhood is definitely more difficult than I anticipated. While I knew that I would be fighting battles with my daughter at some point, I had no idea that they would start from the beginning. Hours of colicky crying, trying to get her to sleep at night, breastfeeding for hours on end, endless colds during the winter, thrush three times-- there have been many struggles already. These struggles had led me to reading many parenting theories and advice, mostly online. I've read countless articles, blog posts, and forums about the latest research, ideas, and opinions on anything from sleep to eating to schedules. This is what I've learned about parenting so far:

The biggest battle mommies face is each other.

Now, I'm sure to some degree that this battle is a little more bold and colorful online because much like cyberbullying, these ladies can hide behind the anonymity that the internet provides. I guess this makes them mommy cyberbullies. However, even in person, moms are not bashful about letting you know how you should be parenting your child, as if there is some kind of manual that you've missed out on along the way.

It's taken me many months to learn that Amelia is not like any other child because no two children are the same. That sounds pretty basic and maybe silly, but when so many people are handing out advice, you start to wonder if you are doing something wrong. Together we are figuring out what works best. Even though I thought she would be a crib sleeping baby on a rigid schedule, we pretty much fly by the seat of our pants and co-sleep part time. It works for us. I would not point my finger at someone else and say "You should NEVER let your baby cry it out! I do such-and-such with Amelia and look how perfect she is!" She's not perfect and neither am I.

Apparently, perfect parents do exist though, and they are sharing their advice all over the internet world. As evidenced in this mommy's post about her struggles with sleep training.

For those of you who don't have time to read the article, basically she is trying cry it out (CIO) with her baby. If you really want to experience some strong parenting opinions, search for CIO or co-sleeping on the internet. Or, read the comments in the above article. I particularly am fascinated with these:

"You are horrible. I am sad for your children. Lazy parents are the worst."

"...Even so I just wanted to let you that even on social networks and everywhere you are being portrayed as an evil mother that lets her child cry for hours on end. I’d be concerned about someone possibly calling child protective services…"

"I have been a big fan of yours for a long time. Not anymore :~( Leaving babies to cry it out, all alone, at such a young age is unnatural and awful. I don’t want to be a flamer but it breaks my heart. I’ve done a considerable amount of research into this as I am currently writing a book about peaceful sleep. The thought of all those babies out there crying themselves to sleep because some self proclaimed guru presumes to tell mothers to act in a way that goes violently against their instincts makes me so angry. Sleep training is bad."

"I do feel the need to tell all of you attachment parents that you folks are crazy! You are breeding kids with no ability to be independent and this is a detrement to their social health! By the way, there comes a time when sleeping with your kids is no longer appropriate, and maybe someone should call social services on you."

I assume these moms are rich, as they have determined the best way to parent and must be writing books and making millions.

Also, please note how one mom says children's services should be contacted for using CIO (which is completely different from leaving your child in the crib night and day-- just thought I should point that out before someone suggests that I'm saying neglect is OK) and another says that children's services should be called for sleeping with your kids. Calling the mom 'lazy' really got me too-- there is nothing more excruciating for me than to hear Amelia scream and cry, and it is obvious to me that the author of this post feels the same.

I left a couple of comments for this mommy myself, the first being supportive and the second being sarcastic (what else would you expect from me?) towards the mommies that suggested protective services be contacted dependent on which sleep theory you follow. It was difficult for me not to defend my choice to co-sleep, but much like engaging in a battle with your children, a battle with other mommies is a waste of energy.

My point to my long rant is this: Mommyhood is hard. We all have different tactics as we raise our children. Hug the moms you know, provide encouragement and support, and remember that we are all doing the best we can to bring up healthy, happy kids-- even if it's not the way you would do it.