Nature is Weird

When I was in high school, I got dive-bombed by a bird. I did not do anything to said bird. I was just walking down the sidewalk and it buzzed me. I was completely freaked out. My dad told me I probably walked too close to its nest and it was defending its babies. I said the bird was an idiot, because what the hell could I possibly want with her stupidass babies?

Today I was loading groceries into the back of the car while Gracie sat in the cart, when a creepy old man came walking across the parking lot. I swear he was walking directly towards us. He never even made eye contact with me, and walked right past us into the store. He probably didn't even notice us.

We'll never know for sure, though. Once he was past us with his back turned, I jumped on his neck and pecked his fucking eyes out.

All By Myseelllllffff

Today I was alone in our house for the first time since Gracie was born. I guess if you want to get technical about it, the first time I was ever alone, since I was hugely pregnant with her when we moved in.

It was...weird. I was sort of excited to be able to run on the treadmill, clean the house, and not have to worry the noise from the tready would bother her while she slept, or she'd figure out a way to swallow arsenic while I was wiping down her floorboards. But when Stephen and his mom walked out the door with her, I had a moment of panic. It took everything in me not to squeal, "Ugh, wait wait wait, let me go get dressed, I'm going with you guys!"

Watching her leave is always the hardest part. It's like that when I go to work, too.

After that, it was oddly fine. Just...fine. I didn't slide into the front hallway in my underwear singing a played-out Bob Seger song, but I didn't weep and gnash my teeth by the window, either.

It might even be time to spend the night away from her...

(hellnoiamnotready.)

How I Complete Recertification

Read article and answer question

Check email

Skim totally boring article for answer to question

Check facebook

use antibacterial hand gel even though I am sitting in my office and there are no patients here

Check email

Curse asshole friends for not emailing me and giving me a reason to not work on recertification

Ooh! Blog! I can update my blog!

Feel intense self-irritation for typing most boring blog post ever

Go back to stupid stupid boring dumb recertification test.

One of Those Days

Even though Grace was an exceptionally tough newborn, I know the reality is that having a brand-new baby isn't easy for anyone. It's exhausting and overwhelming with very little reward. They don't smile or nuzzle or make fun noises, really, there's just screaming and not-screaming. And obviously it gets better, so, so, so much better, but every once in awhile, you have one of those really hideous days. And it almost sucks more than when you're waking up every two hours and the baby only stops screaming if you walk in circles around the dining room table while wearing your orange t shirt (ONLY the orange t shirt) and holding her facing out. Because, the thing is, when you have to wear a groove in the floorboards every damn night to keep the baby from crying, you just get used to everything sucking. You take joy in the little things (showering, eating food, etc). Then, life starts to get better and you look back and think, "Daayummn, that sucked. So glad THAT is over."

But it's never over. And some days just suck. Sometimes, babies decide they don't need to sleep at night OR nap. Sometimes, they decide they don't want anything to do with you. Sometimes, that happens on the same day that you kind of just don't feel very good to begin with.

Today was a not-very-fun day. And I know it's stupid to complain, there was nothing exceptionally bad or difficult or anything like that. It just...I don't know. It's just one of those things, I think. For me, it can be totally overwhelming, until I just stop and say, ok. Today sucks. It's not the end of the universe, it's just a sucky day.

(fer the love of god, can tomorrow be less frustrating?! criminy.)

Mommy Wars

As I was walking out of work last night, I caught a glimpse of Grace's birthday picture, stuck inside my ID case. I looked at her pudgy little cheeks and thought, I'm so proud we made it a whole year with breastfeeding.

...and then I instantly felt like I had to qualify that. To myself?! Yeah, I know. Anyway. Because breastfeeding is up there with vaccines, cosleeping, and circumcision in the world of mommy wars. When we want to be hard on each other, we chooses any of these topics to judge each other, look down on other people's decisions, and assure ourselves that our way is best and anyone who disagrees is wrong. And, gasp, maybe they don't even CARE!!!

It's not okay. We have to stop being so shitty to each other. And the thing is, I think we all know that. But we're all so insecure about what we're doing, and looking for validation that we're doing the right thing, and sometimes the way we do that is by looking down on other people's decisions. Other times, we've decided something after careful thought and research, and our choice seems like the ONLY choice. And sometimes we're just being assholes.

So I instantly feel guilty for being proud of something like nursing for a year, because it feels like I'm looking down on all the other moms who chose differently. And I'm really not. I mean, when I feel proud about having run a marathon, I'm not looking down on everyone who didn't, and nobody would think that for a second. Nobody would say, "Yeah, well you know, I tried really hard to run a marathon and I coudln't," or "You know there are other valid choices besides running a marathon. Walking a 5k isn't rat poison." (Ok, that analogy doesn't play out as well, heh.) So why do I have to qualify this? Is it something so totally unique and personal about motherhood that makes us all feel so defensive of our choices?

I am proud that I nursed Grace for a year. It was a lot of hard work, teaching her how to latch on, coaxing her back when she went on strike, pumping for what felt like hours at a time, carrying around extra weight for a whole year so I wouldn't risk my supply, and on and on. And I can be proud of that without judging anyone else, without thinking they made the wrong choice or judging them. But it doesn't really feel like it...

I don't have anything profound to say here, obviously, just something that's been rattling in my brain since yesterday.

Three Years Ago,

The friday before Christmas was the 22nd. It was unseasonably warm, which was great for Chicago, but not so much for lots of other cities, which ended up veiled in thick, soupy fog. The attending on call decided to be charitable and sent me home just a few hours after I got to work. I decided to stop at the grocery store on the way home, and texted Stephen at work to see if he needed anything.

...Except he wasn't at work. He was sitting in the lobby of our building, sweating his ass off, because the engagement ring he'd had made by a jeweler in Alabama was supposed to get FedEx'd to him that day so he could propose before Christmas. But, remember, fog? Ring was not showing up. And now I was on my way home, and he was supposed to be at work. He quickly came up with an excuse for why he was home, and I quickly came up with all kinds of ideas for how to spend our awesome bonus day! We were both home! Woo-hoo! Did I mention he had to sign for the ring in person and show photo ID, due to the value of the package?

He did agree to go for a walk, maybe we went out to lunch? I think we did. He made up some other story about needing to be home to accept a package that included his mom's Christmas present. I was TOTALLY ANNOYED because we had a dry cleaners in our building that also served as our package receiving, and since when did he have to sign for a book from amazon.com???

He spent half the day fighting w/FedEx on the phone. I was totally frustrated that we were losing our awesome bonus day when he could just tell me the name of the stupid book he'd bought and I'd buy it the next day while he was at work.

When we postponed dinner plans to drive to the FedEx hub in the 'burbs, I started to wonder if maybe something else was up...but dismissed the thought and went along for the ride. I dropped him off to an overflowing hub office, filled with people who hadn't received their last-minute Christmas gifts due to the fog and had shown up, hoping to pick them up in person. Stephen's package was not in the office. It was locked in a truck, parked behind the hub. While I went bra-shopping at Target (heh), he was begging to have the truck opened.

...and they did (is this starting to sound like a tiresome sitcom to everyone but me? it is? Eh. Tough.) He threw the package in the backseat of the car and we drove to dinner in Chinatown. He had to leave the ring in the car, because he couldn't explain why he had the package on the dinner table. Once we sat down, he made up a story about needing his cell phone from the car (further frustrating me- first our lost bonus day, now he needs HIS PHONE?!?!) and ran back to retrieve the ring before someone stole our car and the ring was gone forever. We ate dinner and took the scenic route home. While we cut through downtown, I commented that Millennium Park looked pretty, and he actually asked if I wanted to go walk around. Shocked, I said yes! yes yes yes!

After walking all around the park, stopping at the Bean (where he wanted to propose but some stupid family wouldn't stop taking pictures, curse them for thinking they had the right to be there!), we walked out onto the bridge, and the rest is history.

Three years, one baby, and one very old house later, it all feels like a different lifetime. But every time I see that bridge, I sigh a little bit, and every Christmas since then, I've thought back to the cool, foggy night when the life we have now started to come together.

ONE

If I were a more eloquent person, I would write the entry that perfectly captures how I feel as the mom of a one year old. I'm really not very eloquent at all, though, so if I tried that, I would just frustrate myself and sound stupid in the process. I'll leave that to the writers, I think, and instead, I've spent the last few days thinking about the things I've learned over the last year.

1- Parenting a colicky baby is like dropping a knife. You don't try to change anything, you just go with what works. Screw the stupid books that insist you need to establish behaviors and prevent bad habits.

2- The world becomes much, much scarier after you have a baby. Car accidents, cancer, and plane crashes go from minor distractions to majorly terrifying, if you let them take up too much space in your brain.

2a- It does not pay to let car accidents, cancer, or plane crashes take up too much space in your brain, unless you're making decisions about carseat usage.

3- There is no greater luxury in the world than sleep (I kind of knew that one before. I really know it now.)

4- Today's colicky baby is tomorrow's angel baby. No matter how many times I heard that, I never believed it, until it happened for us. Then again, I also never believed I'd actually have a colicky baby, so maybe I'm more skeptical than most people.

5- There is nothing better in the world than being a parent, and no matter how much I looked forward to it before, I still had no idea how much I would love it.

BONUS: in the words of Wise Donna, the days are long, but the years are short.