Who am I?

So, a friend posted this on FB and it's designed to be a photo challenge but I'm a rebel, so I decided to attempt to use this as my Lenten discipline. Writing on each of the prompts--as if I don't have enough writing to do. (HA!) But it's also an attempt to contain my on-line time that disappears into the abyss and turn it into something productive.

So today--who am I?

There could be so many answers--especially on this Ash Wednesday, some of which I mention in my sermon for tonight. But somehow, the only one that bubbles to the surface today is mom or more accurately, mama (specifically in Precious'/Thing 2's voice).

When Baby Girl/Thing 1 was small, the law in our state and the recommendation was rear-facing in the car until age 1 and 22 pounds. About a week after her first birthday, I had to travel a long way (6 hours if I recall correctly) with her by myself. In the van, I had her rear-facing carrier seat and her new front-facing seat. I put her rear-facing when I thought and hoped she'd nap and front-facing for the rest so she could see the DVD player. When we got home after that trip, we took out the rear-facing seat. She's been in the other seat since (now using the regular seat belt, not the five point harness) but still.

Now that Precious/Thing 2 is small, the law in our state is still rear-facing until age 1 and 22 pounds, but the recommendation is rear-facing until 2. She's still rear-facing in my car. But in hubby's, we've turned the seat. It's just too hard for the front seat passengers to fit her seat in rear-facing. And, she rarely rides in his car anyhow.

Just a few days ago, I was buckling her in his car and realized that though I complain about getting her in the rear-facing seat (she's getting tall and scrunched, it's so high in my van, etc.), I'm not ready to turn her around. It feels like it will be the last thing that marks the end of her being my baby. Which isn't true of course...I'm my mom's baby as she tells both my girls. But...my baby is growing up. She's solidly toddler. She's independent, oh so independent. She wants to do so much on her own.

AND, she's my baby. She loves her 'babies' (dolls) and any real-life baby. She gets frustrated when she can't take them out of books or photos. We have a number of picture books with Mary holding baby Jesus. And reading them goes something like this. "Where's the baby?" She points. "Yes, that's baby Jesus. Where's his mama?" She points to Mary. "Where's your mama?" She taps her index finger on my chest. "Where's my baby?" She taps her index finger on her chest. "Are you my baby?" She nods solemnly, slowly, deliberately and snuggles into me with a smile.

Yes, she is my baby and I'm her mama.

Done

Yesterday, at age 16 months (and 1 day), Precious had her very last breastmilk. I stopped pumping at the end of July. My goal was to get her through surgery recovery with mostly fresh breastmilk. After that, we used my frozen stash. I'm happy she got my milk that long and that she seems to like (and tolerate well) cow's milk.

We are done with babies, barring a miracle (aka a failed vasectomy). And that's okay--good even. I held a tiny baby, 5 or 6 weeks old, at a wedding reception recently and I realized that I didn't even feel the slightest twinge of desire to have another baby. I didn't want to be pregnant; I didn't want to give birth; I didn't want to care for another newborn or raise another child.

But...

First, full disclosure, I judge. When I see a baby with a bottle and his/her mother right there, I think, "Oh, it's too bad they aren't breastfeeding. Formula's not the best choice." And then--since Precious--my second thought, "Oh, it could be breastmilk." Ultimately, I know formula's not evil and everyone has to do what is right for them; I don't know the whole story in most cases. I loved, loved, loved breastfeeding and want others to have that same love that I did. And I know not everyone does, so whatever. Do what you need to do.

That said, as I held this baby and fed him his bottle (formula--I watched the parents mix it), he kept turning his little head and nuzzling me, my breast in particular. And I thought, "oh, just to have a baby nurse again...just to snuggle one more baby to my breast and nourish them with this gift...to do something I'm good at and don't have to work to be good at...to be something I am--a nursing mother." And I suppose, with enough hours tied to a pump, I could produce milk again. (I had to check that night--when I squeeze, droplets of milk still come.) But Precious still isn't allowed to try to make suction until at least December. By then, she won't remember how to nurse. She hasn't had anything to suck since June the way it is. And so I'm done.

And it's going to have to be okay.

Hope

Being a mother changes my perspective on a lot of things. I used to hope for much bigger things. I guess I still do. I do, however, use the word "hope" a lot more frequently without grandiose desires.

Take, for example, last night. It was a three committee meeting night at our congregation. Which means I was in meetings starting at 5, 5:45, and 6:30 (and made it to all three close to on time!) It's a crazy night--tonight is a close second with meetings at 5:30 and 6:30. Those are crazy times, but instead of five weeknights away from home, it's two--so a trade off I'm willing to take. But last night, the last meeting went a long time--thankfully with great conversation that was valuable. When I locked the door at 8:10; I sighed. And thought, "Okay, Precious will be asleep in bed. I HOPE Baby Girl will be ready for stories and sleep."

Yeah--maybe my hopes are too grandiose! Both were wide awake, wired, wound and playing. Ugh. Thankfully, they did settle down easier than I thought. Precious a bit more loudly, but both were asleep by just after 9.

Now for more grandiose hopes! I hope Precious is on her way to potty training! In the last week, she has expressed adamant desire to use the potty. Sunday morning and this morning, she pooped on the potty. (She's pretty consistent in time with the first poop of the day, so I wasn't super surprised. I was surprised by how she refused to let me take her off the potty before she pooped on Sunday. She sat a long time--for the always on the go girl!!) And, she peed in the potty twice two--once by expressing desire to sit and once when I just set her on. She's been tending to wake up dry from a nap but then wetting just a few minutes later, so one day when she woke up dry, I put her on the potty and, sure enough, pee came quickly.

I hope she will be using the potty consistently soon-ish. She's only 15 months, so I'm not expecting a whole lot. But I'm hopeful Precious will make it easier on us than Baby Girl did!

Mama's Girl

I am upstairs in my house, futilely trying to write a sermon for tomorrow. Meanwhile, downstairs my baby (Precious) is screaming her head off. She's in Daddy's capable hands, but she wants Mommy. Which means I'm in this position I hate--balancing mommyhood and ministry. It's not like I was overly busy in the office this week--this sermon just won't come! And so now my whole family suffers. Precious is unhappy. Daddy is unhappy because he can't do the stuff he wants to do on his day off (never mind all the stuff that I do around the house too). Baby Girl is watching too much tv because that is Daddy's method of keeping both girls occupied. Precious doesn't watch tv even when it's on--just not interested. But then he doesn't have to occupy two. And I have a hard time writing because my baby is crying and it is the most distracting sound in the world. And I'm reminded of how often I'm failing at trying to do it all. I've given up trying to do it all--but I need to get a little more done than I am every day.

Sigh.

Precious is quiet now--guess I should try again to make this sermon come!

Which is Easier?

Yesterday I went to a newly forming mom's group. Baby Girl was the oldest child there though one mom also has an older child too along with the toddler that joined her. That mom and I were the only two there with more than one child. I don't know if she was asked--and honestly we all were kind of talking over one another and there was lots of child noise--but the question was asked if it was easier to go to 2 children from 1 or having the first child. At the moment, I said that too many other changes were happening in our lives to make a true comparison--that I think it'd have been easier to add children than it was to become a first-time mom. (Which is what the person asking the question thought.)

But after today, I don't think so. Today, Baby Girl went with hubby to his parent's and will come home tomorrow. Which means it was just me and Precious. This is the first day it's been just the two of us in a very long time. And it was really good in a lot of ways. I snuggled her and read her books. I wasn't constantly having to redirect her from whatever it was Baby Girl was doing that couldn't really be played with by her. I didn't have to share my attention with a 3 1/2 year old. When she napped (a marathon nap! for her--2+ hours), I could do laundry and get more things done than I can when Baby Girl is around. When she had a meltdown, I could deal with it more calmly because Baby Girl wasn't making it worse.

Yes, I'm not quite as nervous or panicky about some things. But when I baby-proofed for Baby Girl, it was done. Now, I try--but Baby Girl does have toys that are too small and I try really hard to keep them in the other room, but she doesn't quite get that fully yet and so they make their way back at times. Baby Girl also has things that are 'safe' but she doesn't want Precious to get into. (And I don't really want Precious sharing sippy cups--no need to share germs! Baby Girl is forever leaving hers in reach of Precious.) My store of patience wasn't multiplied when I had another child and I'm afraid that it gets used up more quickly than it could or should. I don't know if that's just because Baby Girl is 3 1/2 and testing limits or if I'm just not patient enough.

I don't know that one or the other is easier. It's just different. And--life feels hard right now most days. I think it's more a function of working full-time (only mom in the group doing that, 1 other works part-time) in my particular vocation and Hubby's schedule. And my pumping schedule--I can't go to bed early and I can't sleep in. (Sometimes I do get to go back to sleep in the morning and I have had a nap or two after the girls are down and before pumping, but not usually.)

Time flies and they grow so fast. As I snuggled Precious today, I don't want her to grow faster. But I want things to change--I want to give her more undivided attention. I think I tend to put Baby Girl first because I feel Precious won't remember as much.

No matter what, it's never easier. Being a mommy is a hard job. Hopefully this group will help us all do it better.