Watching Lightning

Watching lightning

July is at its end. I really can't believe how this summer has just flown by. I remember just a couple months ago how I was desperately wishing time away. I wrote about it in private, not wanting to reveal my shortcomings as a mom. I was so mad at myself for wishing time away. Time I was "supposed" to be clinging to with unrelenting clutches. Cherishing every single moment. I felt like a failure, a horrendous mother, because I just wanted to cry all of the time. I counted down the hours of each day, anxiously awaiting the end of each day. It's not that I didn't love my daughter. I loved her, and still love her with a love I never knew I was capable of until I met her, but I still struggled. I do believe I was battling with some postpartum depression, but I had neither the means nor the time to do anything about it.

And, yet, here we are. Six months in, and the air is clearing. I feel like I am getting the hang of it. I finally take the time to sit back and watch this little person I created. I get to witness someone getting acquainted with this world of ours. I watched her discover her hands and feet, smile her first non-gas induced smile, jump at her first encounter with thunder, roll on her belly and shriek with frustration, and be privy to the incomparable amazingness of an infant's belly laugh. True undeniable laughter.

No longer afraid of the thunder

There are so many unbelievable things you get to be a part being a parent. I am so grateful I finally stopped obsessively timing every feeding to make sure she was eating exactly ten minutes per boob, and then burping within five minutes between each boob, and not doing this because 'the experts' say so, and doing this because this book says so, and freaking the F out because my baby wasn't on this rigid schedule, and just STARTED USING MY COMMON SENSE. She was growing perfectly, very healthy, and most importantly... soooo happy.

I finally just relaxed, and enjoyed my baby. Why did no one tell me that from the beginning? Everyone terrifies you. Parenting books just made me feel outrageously inadequate. Uh, it was stressful. Then I realized (cliche approaching) Screw you guys, I can do this!

Once you realize that raising your little creation is pretty much the coolest thing ever, and that she has astonishingly survived all of your inadequacies and follies, parenthood becomes so much fun. You just start to enjoy your time together immensely. Everyday she amazes me, and everyday I still would not change a thing. Life with her is as it should be.

Finding happiness in everyday

Oh God, It's Gonna Get Sentimental

New motherhood is crazy lonely. You are never alone, and yet it is the loneliest I have ever felt. My amazing friend Katie got me started on blogging back in March by introducing me to the sites Girl's Gone Child and Dooce. She opened up this whole world of lonely, 'oh yes, I've been through that' moms.

Finally, I found people to relate to. None of my friends have children. None. They are all getting married, but so far, no little pitter patters. I, of course did the opposite. Baby, no marriage. Matt is fully in the picture, and wonderful, and we are basically married just without the certificate.

But, anyways, it was awesome to find this whole community of people who get it. And that don't judge me to my face for not being married. The judgments in reality are harsh.

This one friend of ours was fully ridiculing blogging. He said it was pathetic that people actually thought other people would want to read about their thoughts, and happenings. Well, I DO. I have found some awesome people, and I love reading their blogs. I do care, and I like having a place to put my thoughts as well. I'm sure my life and thoughts are not fascinating to everyone, but who cares?

Blogging has really helped the loneliness. It is so encouraging to read how others have dealt with the same stuff and their own obstacles, and also how they have enjoyed the incredible events of parenthood. I have to stop typing now. My keyboard is soggy from all of the mush I just spewed onto it.

Red Shoes

When I first decided to start this blog I was rockin the sweats, big shirts, disheveled hair, and well, obviously make-up was as likely as a unicorn popping out of my ass. All mirrors were avoided.

Given, I was still fashioning my pregnancy weight, not sleeping, and never the left the house, so it was both hard, and somewhat pointless to try to look good. But, you reach that point where you just want to feel sexy again. My hot red heels were taunting me. Every time I reached in the closet to grab some new fat-girl pants, they whispered to me, "Remember us? We are your power shoes. You are unstoppable in us! Wear us. Wear us."

I would give in. Crouch down on the floor in my sweats and baggy shirt, and desperately try to stuff my still swollen sausage feet in. Nope. Not going to happen. Try again later. Ignore the blood.

And I did. Many, many times.

Spring came, and the pounds were finally starting to melt away with the receding snow. I decided I would start getting dressed in the morning, wearing some make-up again, and brush my hair! It was amazing. I started feeling much happier again. I no longer felt like this schleppy old mess. I wore cute outfits, dressed Aife up in her cute clothes (we both had previously just stayed in pj's all day), and started venturing out into the world strutting our stuff.

Babing at High Altitude serves as a daily reminder that motherhood is gorgeous (and that "mom" jeans are never ok, not ever, not for any reason!) Moms are sexy. Aife and I are babes, living way above sea level. Let your babeness out, celebrate it.

And in the immortal genius of Ron Burgundy, "I look good. "

Growth Spurts, Explosive Squirts

Growth spurts (although a fantastic way to gauge that you are nourishing your child properly, and not just letting her rummage through the garbage to find her own sustenance) are miserable! Apparently not for every baby. Some babies magically grow with no fussiness, no constant nursing, and no hourly wake-up calls throughout the night. They sail through teething, gobble down whatever baby mush you put in front of them with a cheerful smile and a belly laugh, and then help you do the dishes afterwards. Months later, they'll grab a newspaper, head into the john, and teach themselves how to use the toilet.

The hourly wakings have gone on for several days now, and well, we (the babe and I) are doing what we can to hang tough. Although we are both seeing things, running into walls (apparently not seeing walls), accusing the neighbor's cat of using up all the toilet paper, and making wild, outrageous, nonsensical claims of conspiracies and relaying the information to Unsolved Mysteries, we see no cause for concern.

The experts say that these growth spurts usually last between 2-7 days. Or is that 27 days? The signs of a growth spurt are unyielding fussiness due to lack of sleep, constant nursing which helps increase the supply for an expanding baby, and less sleep through the night because she wants to eat hourly, which then brings on more fussiness!!! However, don't jump too quickly to the growth spurt conclusion as the answer, these could also be signs of a baby reacting to lifestyle change, a minor illness, or she has already begun to take revenge on me for agreeing to give her a name that is completely impossible for anyone to pronounce unless they are Irish.

In reference to the explosive squirts title, Aife (ee-fee, of course she is mad already, but it has a lot of meaning) is beginning to teeth. Sooo, bring on the explosive squirts (mostly all over me) and lots and lots of tears. But, frozen washcloths are fantastic for this, and so is massaging her gums, or the old standby, a rum or whiskey dipped pacifier that I suck on until I fall asleep, curled up in the fetal position where Matt comes home to find me with half of my hair ripped out.

6 Months

Aife is officially 6 months old today. Everyone told me that time would just flyyy by, and I would wake up one day and send her off to college, and cry, get empty nest syndrome and take up needlepoint and bridge.

Well, we aren't quite there yet...although her new babbles are scarily similar to the drunken ramblings of frat boys... I am starting to feel the pace of time quicken. The first several months moved like screaming, pooping molasses, and I vehemently believed that it would never ever end. I would be trapped inside FOREVER! (I have a knack for the melodramatic).

Anyways, as the days grew longer, things, as everyone had promised, got immeasurably easier and way more fun. Now, I can't believe my little tiny girl is 6 months! Unfreakinbelievable. Everyday she amazes me more, and I know I am going to miss this time later on down the road when she is a tantrum-throwing-fine-I'll-ask-daddy-then two year old.

I'm looking so forward to all of the stages, and teaching her things, and watching her grow accustomed to the world, but sometimes I look at this amazing little 6 month old girl that means more to me than anything, and I can't imagine her changing; I half (maybe 1/3) wish she could stay at this age, this size, exactly as she is. Dinosaur noises, face raking, hair pulling, inordinate amounts of spit and all.

Then I remember sleep, and how nice it will be to do it again.

Butt hurt in Colorado

We just got a Chariot!!! Matt works at a bike shop so he gets bike stuff at the pro deal. He built me this awesome baby blue bike from scrap parts, and now we are finally mobile. I didn't realize I was so out of shape, but as this sweet little old lady cruised by us accidently bumping me with her walker, it was abundantly clear. My theory of watching exercise tapes and tricking my body into thinking it has gotten a workout when it hasn't has been obliterated.

No but really, damn. I am seriously butt-hurt. It is awesome though. I think if I keep this up, my old butt will come out from hiding under all of this "baby booty fat" aka, "I will eat what I damn well please, you skinny jerk, talk to me when you grow boobs and breastfeed a billion times a day, fat". Ugh, I am going to go ice my ass, and breastfeed for the billionth and one time today.

Little Swimmer of Mine

It has been a fairly big week here. We finally finished moving in. That was a nightmare, but it's done and I will never think of it again! The July heat is setting in in a biiiig way (but apparently I'm just a wuss, and I have NOOOO idea what real heat is. Totally true, but whatever! I still think it's hot.) And..... Aife had her first swimming experience! I fully recommend getting those youngins in the pool. It was so much fun! I got her into her little swim diapers, coated her in obscene amounts of sunscreen, threw on her big, floppy sunhat that makes her look like ol' croc dundee, cried myself into my bikini, and off we went. The new pool at the Snowmass Rec Center is incredible. They use saline water so it is really gentle on babies' skin. There are fountains and a waterfall, and a slide. Tons of families with little children.

Aife loved it! I didn't dunk her or anything, but she was splashing and giggling, and kicking like it was her life's intent. Little kids were in awe of her, and she was dazzled by them. Big bonus; I could hold her in there forever and my arms would never get tired! So, we have definitely found our new favorite summer activity. Seriously, get your kids to the pool if you are looking for an awesome activity. Apparently, moms are taking their babies as young as 4 months old.

We also just got back from our first First Friday in Carbondale. All of the galleries open up, serve food and wine. Crazies meander through the streets. It was pretty cool. I am desperately trying to avoid making my daughter a misanthrope like I have become. Get her socialized, and all that jazz. Okay, enough babbling for now. Very tired, and I have two HUUUUGE days of work ahead of me.