Saturday, August 30, 2014

I'm Going to Be Selfish Today. And Probably Another Day Too...

Monday, August 25, 2014

This past weekend I finally had a baby-less day. I told Greg at the beginning of the week not to make plans, and that I wanted some “me” time. I didn’t really give him any wiggle room. I needed this day. I didn’t care what he and Lucca did, I just needed to be F R E E.
I was meeting my girlfriend later for lunch but the time in between was seriously magical. Mind you, this was only about 20 minutes from the time Greg had left for the day with Lucca, and the time I left to meet my friend. I got my first cup of coffee for the day, turned off the TV and just sat in silence. It was then I realized that 24/7 I’m always talking. Talking to him. Talking to the dog. Talking to myself. On the phone. Talking to Greg. This was complete silence, and it was freaking amazing.
When I finally went to meet my friend for lunch, I felt myself constantly fidgeting while we ate and began to chat. Greg and I take Lucca out to restaurants a lot, and between feeding him at home and going out, I feel like I’m constantly crumbling up food in my hands in between shoveling food in my own mouth. I picked up that delicious bread they serve at Cheesecake Factory and started to pull it apart thinking I had a little bird to feed, but no, I could actually feed myself! What a difference that makes.. We were at lunch for over an hour and weren’t rushed out with flying sippy cups or excessive banging on the table. Amazing.
The rest of the day was spent shopping, a quick manicure, and a coffee date with another old friend. What my friends (and Greg) don’t know is how importantSaturday was for me. I felt like myself. I felt like I could actually engage in real conversation without just an ‘uh huh’, or ‘yeah’ while my mind is busy thinking other things.  Just the fact that I was out, with make-up on and wearing actual clothes was another amazing feat. I loved it. I loved every freaking minute of it. It wasn’t anything special, just a normal day out with girlfriends, but it was perfect. And God, did I need that day… 
The thing is, we all need these days. We need moments of selfishness. And not the bullshit 1 hour when your spouse comes home from work. No. That doesn’t count. We need days where nobody needs us. Nobody needs to be fed, nobody needs to be entertained or bathed. We need days where we can eat full on meals without swallowing air in between because we’re eating so fast. We need days where we don’t have a schedule to adhere to. I can tell you that I’m better for it. Give me one day of selfishness and I will be the best freakin’ housewife you’ve ever seen.

So thank you for giving me my day. But can I have another one now?

Boys and Girls

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

From the moment we found out we were having a baby boy, I swear I had more people say, “Are you happy it’s a boy? Are you disappointed you’re not having a baby girl?” That’s kind of shitty, right? I swear, I could go on for days the ridiculous things people say to you without any filter from pregnancy through motherhood. But I digress..
No, I wasn’t disappointed. I had sensed all along that I was having a boy. I was excited to have a boy because to me that meant instant adventure. I remember looking up 4 year old boys snowboarding and wakeboarding and thinking, “Yep, that’s gonna be him”. But that’s not to say that I didn’t ever have thoughts of having a little girl…It had definitely crossed my mind.
Of course I want a mini-me. A miniature clone with dark hair and dark eyes to dress up and style, braid their hair, go on manicure dates, sign them up for dance classes…Show her that girls can be tough too, but that it’s okay to be girly. I still think about that—especially tonight as I packed all of Lucca’s clothes away wondering if next time around we’ll be using those clothes or I’ll be selling/donating them for a more pink colored wardrobe.
That thought is always in the back of my mind, but I’m lucky to have a son. I feel proud to continue the legacy of Greg’s family. I also look at Lucca and think that I hope he grows up to be like his dad— loving, generous, kind… Who makes his family a priority and loves his wife unconditionally. I always think of the future and what kind of person Lucca will be, and it really makes me happy to know that he has every opportunity to be a successful  in this crazy world.
I love my time with my niece, who is 6 years old. She’s girly. She’s a tomboy. She’s fearless. She’s sensitive. She’s headstrong. She’s sweet. Sometimes I think she’s just like me. I treasure that time with her because it’s a special relationship that we have. For now, I’ll enjoy our own nail salon trips, letting her steal my $30 lipstick out of my purse, and watching her embrace her own sense of style.
Maybe one day Lucca will have a sister and I’ll have a mini-me, but for now I’m completely in love with this mini version of Greg. Completely. 

Let the adventures begin…

We Made It

Saturday, August 16, 2014

Most of you have probably seen the YouTube video that I posted of ‘Mom’s 1st Birthday’ but I had to share it here because it really hit home with me. I watched it and immediately did the ugly cry. Whimpering. Tears. Thank God I was by myself.
Lucca will be 1 in October. Yes, everyone always says ‘where did the time go?’ He grew up so fast!’ But it’s the truth. The first 3 months of his life I felt like I had this little human being that I was literally just trying to keep alive and keep crying to a minimum. I felt like I didn’t really get to know this little babe until he was almost 5 months old, when he really had his own personality. And since then, he’s been my everything.
As I’ve written before, it has been a tough year. It’s been a tough year of figuring him out. Figuring myself out. Trying to balance the person I’ve known myself to be for 27 years with this entirely new person that I’ve become. My role in this world has completely changed. I hate to say I now ‘have a purpose’, but I truly feel that my reason for being in this world is to teach Lucca everything there possibly is to know. Teach him about the world around him. Slow down to show him every airplane that flies overhead, every bird that we hear at the park. Teach him about love, giving back. Teach him about being hurt and how to be strong and push on through.
With that comes a lot of pressure. You made this human and it’s up to you to help them grow into a successful, compassionate person who has something to give back to the world. I can’t speak for Greg because he has a different role, but as a new mom I can tell you that from the second we hold our babies in our arms we feel an intense amount of pressure to be successful in motherhood. There are a lot of expectations that the world makes for us, and ones that we set for ourselves. 
I love that video because it celebrates all of that. New mothers deserve to celebrate that first full year of “what the hell am I doing?!” and the fact that we have all made it out alive. We all have different struggles, different setbacks, and we can all think back to how we might have done things differently.
But, the fact is that we made it.

Happy 1st year, mamas!

Can We Start Over?

Friday, August 8, 2014

Today was one of those days where I wish I could have just started over from the very beginning. Crawl back into my king size fluffy bed, close my eyes, and let the day begin again.

I would be blissfully awakened by the giggles of my son, and as I stand up and stretch and whisper ‘good morning’ to my dear husband, I would walk down the hallway to see my sweet baby boy with his toothy grin clapping upon entering his room.
Screeeeeeech— that little fantasy has come to a hault, folks. Blissful? Ha! I don’t even know what that word means.
6:12 a.m.
I blink my eyes at the clock. Why does it feel like 4 a.m.? Probably because I was up hours before to calm Lucca down and settle him back to sleep after he sat straight up screaming and crying. Typical routine that’s been going on the last few weeks. He’s squawking now. The monitor is still on and the sounds he is making from just one room over are now amplified. No clapping, but banging on the sides of his crib. I try to ignore it for a few more minutes. I close my eyes, not sure why because I’m not going back to sleep, but whatever.
6:19 a.m.
I finally get up to walk down the hallway with a rat’s nest of hair and only one eye open. Ahh, another day has begun. WhatWhat the hell is that? Honestly, at this point I’m scared to walk any closer. But, he’s seen me now so walking away would be mean. As I stand over his crib, I’m literally looking at my worst nightmare. 
Yes, that’s what I screamed, but with ‘Holy’ preceding it. But no, this was NOT holy shit. This was shit all over his adorable Pottery Barn sheets. Creeping out of his two-piece pajamas. Smeared all over the damn place. I’m quickly regretting the fact that I waited those extra minutes to come get him because I am now realizing that it was during those precious moments that he thought to himself, “Oh hey! What’s this? This wasn’t here before. Hmm.. let’s explore…”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I yell down to Greg to help. He stands and gawks. ‘How did that happen?’ I mean, do you really want me to go into detail or…? He starts a bath. Yep, a bath ladies and gentleman. At freaking 6 in the morning. Good thing I gave him one last night too…
6:40 a.m.
After fighting with him to get a onesie on, we finally head downstairs for breakfast. I’ve read enough books to know the BRAT system for the type of situation we were dealing with. For those of you who are unaware: BRAT= Bananas, Rice, Applesauce, Toast. That’s all on the menu today so we don’t have to find ourselves in this mess (literally) again. 
6:55 a.m.
Food. Everywhere. Thrown in every direction possible. WHY IS MY FLOOR SO FREAKING DIRTY? Oh yeah, my mom is watching Brooklyn for a few days. I don’t have an automatic vacuum cleaner to clean up after this child. I don’t think he’s put a single ounce of food in his mouth, so I quickly throw in the towel. Time to go to work.
I clock into work. Set him down in his baby jail with Mickey on to distract him. In the past few days, he’s realized he can pull himself up and hold on to whatever is in front of him. He does this, and screams. For anybody who has met Lucca, you will know he is a happy baby, laughs, giggles, laughs at himself even more…
But, I don’t know who this child is in this baby jail. He’s making sounds I have never heard before in my life. He’s gotten himself up and doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know what’s happening to his jelly legs. I try to let it go for awhile to see if he just tires himself out and plops down. Nope. I go to get him and show him how to put his butt down. This is 1 out of 32482309489203 times I will do this today.
Oh, you thought my shitty situation was over did you? WRONG. I hear a God awful noise coming from my son and instantly whip my computer chair around. He’s got this weird smirk on his face like ‘Ma, I don’t know what the hell that was either.’
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Now, I’m regretting putting a onesie on this kid. Now I have to strategically fold the bottom up so it doesn’t get on his back. FAIL. It gets on his back, AND on my carpet. And now I’m wrestling a 10-month-old to change his diaper. 
Oh. My. God.
I scream an obscenity and I feel bad because Lucca looks up at me like “Eh, Sorry?” but I literally just want to cry. I haven’t even started the laundry yet so I guess that’s the only good thing going for me. I clean him up. Clean up the floor. Soak everything in Shout and start the wash. This kid isn’t going to wear clothes all day, that’s for damn sure.
I have to put him back in jail and start work. But the screaming. And the pulling up. The up and down goes on and on and on… At this point, I’m on my second cup of coffee and I haven’t done a single thing productive. I’m instantly hating Greg for leaving me here. Totally not his fault, but I have to direct it somewhere. 
Time for a bottle. I run back upstairs to get it and think ‘Thank God’ because a bottle at this time means nap time is in our near future. Peace. Finally. 
LIGHTS. OUT. He’s asleep. But really? It’s not even 9 a.m. and the type of morning I’ve had is unbelievable. Of course I have to text my mom and sister and fill them in. They semi make me feel better by letting me know they’ve been there. I’m gonna need another cup of coffee.
And the rest of the day was filled with 5 loads of laundry and back and forth to the baby jail. I’ve never been more excited to clock out at the end of the day.
The funny thing is, I KNOW this has happened to pretty much every mother there ever was in the history of motherhood. But when you’re in the middle of dealing with it yourself, all you want to do is curl up in the fetal position and close your eyes and hope that it all goes away. Ugh, what a shitty day. TGIF? TGIF MY ASS. 

I would have loved to start this oh-so-lovely Friday differently. Ahh well, tomorrow is another day…

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

I am so thankful for public libraries. To most, they aren’t much of a hot commodity. 
To us, it’s a change of scenery (especially important on rainy days), a place to explore, and an opportunity to make new friends. 
It’s our special place and yep, we think it’s a pretty big deal.