House of pain

Our summer of exhilarating, adventurous, freedom wielding FUN has ended.

**screech!**

Oh MA GAWD. 

Ellie has become a bit of a monster. (And future Ellie, know that we LOVE you VERY much should you ever read this) Nothing can make this child happy. If she wants something and we do it then we do it ALL wrong. Then it's tantrum after tantrum. I mean literally, tantrum after tantrum. 

Ellie has started preschool. And the IRONY is that each day that I have picked her up this week her teacher has taken me aside to tell me how well she's doing. How's she so "carefree" and "happy" and gets along with all the other kids and "shares". 

Irony is a bitch. 

As soon as we hit the outside of the preschool the other Ellie appears. She wants me to pick her up! So I do! But my hand is not exactly on her stomach the way she wants it! She moves my hand! My hand doesn't bend that way! She is pissed! She wants my hand on her stomach! I kiss on top of the head. "NO KISSES!!!! NO KISSES!!". [OMG] Sorry Ellie, no kisses. It goes on like this. Moment after frustrating moment. 

I started a new job this week, and it's [unfortunately] back to full time. It makes me sad. It makes me long for my sweet daughter. It makes me resent that I have to be away from her. It makes me want to get the EFF out of work so I can go and hug my little girl. And then it makes me feel like CRAP when our time together is so frustrating.

Today was a particularly good day according to her preschool teacher, who remarked that she is getting into the routine "quicker than most kids". I was feeling like doing something special with my little tot who was so sweet running up to me in the playground yelling "Mommy!".(she always does that, and the sweetness continues till we leave the building). Instead of heading right for the car we walk hand in hand to the ice cream shop on the corner. I should have stopped when she started the fussing and crying because after SEVERAL attempts she couldn't get hold of my hand the with PERFECT finger placement that she was looking for. Anyway, I order us two baby scoops in dishes, and folks as soon as I stuck that spoon into her ice cream to give it to her ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE. Apparently I wasn't supposed to do that so I watched the frustration mount and mount and MOUNT as she tried to wipe the ice cream from the spoon, never to her satisfaction, only to dip it back in to take a bite, realizing she got it all dirty AGAIN, ice cream never gets to her lips and there it goes. Temper tantrum. I take away her ice cream and the screaming gets fierce. We leave the store with me carrying out my crying child sideways, arm stretched out in front of me holding both of our uneaten ice creams. 

I wanted to hurl them into traffic. 

And so, this is what we are dealing with right now. It's hard at home. It's hard on our marriage. It's hard to MISS her and want to spend time with her while at the same time wanting to run out the door to get a break. When we ran out of milk tonight I jumped at the opportunity to go to the store. And I slow drove the whole way there. And then I slow shopped. And then I slow drove home. 

And then sweet Ellie was back when I came home, well kind of. 

I miss spending so much time with her. It makes me really sad. I hate that I have to be a working mom. I hate that our time together has been so awful this week. I hate that I feel relieved when she goes to bed. Relieved and guilty and sad, because a whole day went by and there was very little bonding. 

I'm sure life will feel a lot brighter when this particular stage is OVER.

This picture was taken at my friend Jenn's wedding this weekend (isn't she pretty?). Notice the FRUSTRATION involved with eating a piece of carrot cake!!!  Oh man. I just want to squeeze her and hug her.

Women Rock.

I think one of the biggest challenges of being a mom is finding the time. It's amazing how quickly the hours blow by in a day, how little can be done with a toddler requesting your constant attention and tornado-ing her way through the house. How you can get home from a long day at work and launch immediately into dinner then bedtime routine and how, FINALLY, at the end of the day you can sit down, gather your thoughts, and then try to do all of the adult, non-work related things you so aspire for yourself. Add into that the element of daylight savings time and you find your "go" time starting at 8pm in the pitch black. Bring. It. On.

I'm not always the most fun person to be around. I know, I know, you're shocked! I want there to be more hours of productivity in a day and frankly I get really annoyed that there aren't. Then I get mad at myself for not utilizing the later hours better, or not getting up earlier to be productive before the child awakens. Productivity, at least in the capacity I spent 32 years being used to, is the proverbial squeezing blood from a rock. I ask how all moms before me work, keep a clean house, RAISE their CHILD, be a wife, and then try to nurture all the quirky little things that make them unique. How do they FIND THE TIME??? What chapter in the parenting manual did I skip over?

I'm not a seasoned mom. I'm been a mom for 18 months, but I surmise, through my 18 months wisdom, that you just DO. Or you DON'T. You do work. Or you don't. You do shower. Or you don't. You do go out in public and remember to button up your shirt after a breastfeeding sesh. Or you don't. You do try to keep at least one glass clean. Or you don't. You DO nourish your own inner quirkiness. Or you don't. As a working mom life seems to be about keeping the juggling act going, managing all of the things I need to manage to the best of my ability. Some days I feel like I've got my juggling mojo ON and it feels great. Other days I'm dropping balls all over the place and trying my best not to just hurl all the balls against the wall and say screw it. Some days I want to add MORE to my juggling act. Somedays I want to just take a little breather from it all. It seems the more I practice this juggling game, the better I get.

We juggle. We raise our babies. We are strong members of the work force. We keep looking great. We menstruate. We entertain. We get hijacked by hormones. We manage child care. The load gets lighter. The load gets heavier. We get our shit done.

Women frigging rock.

Reclaiming "my girls"

Sometimes life knocks you down, punches you in the proverbial face, leaves you standing around trying to make sense of just exactly where you are.

This just happened to me.

So you know, you get up. You dust yourself off. You figure out what's not working. For me, it's multi-factorial, but the gist is that me and my sweet little daughter need to separate. Physically, for brief periods throughout the week. I need to focus some attention on myself. And the major major event that needs to occur for the emotional separation that is about to occur?

Mama needs her boobs back.

We are far, far away from nutritive sucking. I am a pacifier, plain and simple. And what a pacifier I am! I mean she could be freaking out and once that boob gets in her face she instantly calms. It's a miracle!! And so, naturally I'm a little freaked out about what to do without my "miracle medicine". So I've been scouring the internet and talking with friends. People have been doing this since the beginning of humankind. SOMEONE'S gotta have the answers!

Oh change is a comin little youngin. For you AND for me.

I've been reading all sorts of crazy childhood development stuff that frankly I can get through a page of and realize I didn't really get at all what it's saying, but the gist of it is: taking away the boob is a major, significant event in the psyche of a child. So you know, no stress there.

Transitional objects. I need to find one. Ellie NEEDS THIS. I'm trying to make her love this little blanket of hers, but that's like putting a stranger in your face and saying "Here. This is your new best friend". But still, maybe that stranger WILL become her new best friend. So we'll keep trying. I'm not going to take it all away at once, but we are setting limits now. And that little blanket will be a part of each session. Man, here's to hoping!

I would love to know if anyone has any books they would recommend about toddlers, and specifically about weaning and separation anxiety. We are in the throws over here man. The THROWS!!!!!

sleepless

I live right in the middle of the big city and I can hear crickets outside the window. This is how I know I am up way too late. Even though I physically went to bed around 8 to "catch up" all I found myself catching up on is my thoughts (ok and also my new Droid phone which don't get me started on that. I can feel hours of productivity slipping away....).

I am in a desperate search to try to find the balance that I am needing in my life. Between working, staying home with Ellie, finding time for my husband, finding time for my friends, finding time for myself, finding time to exercise, finding quality things to do with my daughter, wondering if I'm spending "too" much time with my daughter, trying to learn how to let go, trying to learn how to live with such an immense love my for my child, feeling the weight of that love, the anxiety of "what if's", all the while trying to remember who it is that I am amidst all of this. Because frankly, when Ellie came, the old me left. I'm still trying to figure out who this new me is. And how I take care of the new me.

Sometimes I feel I am needing a career change. Sometimes I feel so overcome with the "what if's" of terrible things that could happen to my family, and then I go into actual family homes and SEE the what if's come to life. Ironically I feel strong in those situations, and empathetic, and I feel like a good nurse. But it ADDS UP. I can feel these, seriously sometimes God AWFUL situations, start to creep their way into my psyche. My heart hurts for these people. My heart, and head, hurt when I think of this kind of sickness affecting my family.

Being a working mom at night with a pretty intense job and a stay at home mom during the day, you can imagine balance is quite a struggle. I don't know how to find the TIME to figure this out. Sometimes I feel like I have very little left of me. Sometimes I get up with Ellie who is so very TODDLER now and I feel it's all I can do to muster up the energy I need to make it to the next nap. I do everything with her. Waking up, mealtimes, bathtimes, bedtimes and all times in between (I do hire a nanny from 730-11a on the days after I work so I can SLEEP). And you know I feel BLESSED that I get to have this opportunity. Some days I am happy beyond measure that I get to see all of these milestones. And man, she is just so beautiful, and fun, and I have so much to be thankful for.

But being grateful is never in question.

Sometimes love is a burden. I never thought of it like that before and I know it doesn't sound great saying it. But moms, do you know what I mean or am I losing my mind? I love my child more than anything that ever existed. There are no words I could type that can begin to reflect this. But that love carries with it so much responsibility, and frankly, so much WORRY. And I actually feel like a pretty easy going mom. I'll let my kid climb on the furniture. I'll let her explore places many moms wouldn't. I'll go on wierd adventures with her and figure out the details later. That's not where my responsibility feels like a burden.

I need to make sure she gets through this world safe. And I need to find a way to remain balanced and present for her, but also for ME. I feel I would give her anything of me if I had to, including all of my time. But I can't be a 24/7 supermom. I am one girl, trying to remember who she is, trying to protect a heart that is now more exposed than ever.

 also, there just don't seem to be enough hours in the day.

(I need to be sleeping!)

where we are now

Weeks go by quickly now. Quickly! I'm still not believing the weekend is over by the time wednesday comes around. And a good amount of predictability has returned to my life; we've got the whole routine thing going. Part of this routine involves going to work and dropping my baby off at my friend's house, and the other part of the week is my friend going to work dropping her baby off at my house. Which means there are 2-3 days every week where I have two babies. And this, a little surprisingly, is kind of hard. Well not hard. But not easy. Those babies are not synced up and I realize I have been blissfully enjoying my baby's multiple hour naps during the day, because baby number 2? He takes mini naps. I don't get that multiple hour quiet time as I chug down my fourth cup of coffee and geek out on the gagillion blogs I'm following. So if you've been wondering why my postings have been weak here's why.

But this jobshare/babyshare thing that I have going on is a good thing. I love being able to talk about the joys of parenthood and the joys of hospice nursing with my friend Sarah. We have such an unbelievable amount in common, including babies that were born just 4 days apart, and what a treat that is. Because there are very few people that I can talk to about my kid's sleep schedule and the benefits of a morphine pca pump. God I love Sarah.

But the little jewel of my week has become thursday nights where me and my good friend Betsy (new mom of twins) go out on a date and literally burst with joy as we do the most mundane of tasks like going out to eat(!) or going to the mall (!). I can't tell you how much fun I had tonight as I got food court food and slow shopped at the Carter's outlet. It was pure joy! I mean you should have seen the bargain baby clothes. And this, I know, is a true reflection of the state of where I'm at right now. I am such a mom. Wow.

And speaking of that you would not believe how insanely cute my little girl is. My God I could just eat her up and she's doing all kinds of totally amazing things like rolling over and putting her whole hand in her mouth and pretty soon I'm pretty sure she's going to be doing crossword puzzles and singing advanced choral music. She is so, so cool.

And so I admit that occasionally I mourn for the freedom of my child-free life. Sometimes I look at the state of my breasts and feel a little tear coming on. Sometimes I am down right mystified that a person so small could create so much laundry. But then I look at her, at her little upturned nose and her sweet sweet smile and all of that melts away. I am a mom now. Wow.

My what a difference a year can bring.

Last year....

This year...

I'm just sayin....

Getting her feet wet

I'm writing this post melt down.
Even though something as simple as going to Babies R Us should be relatively easy, it's not. Well things were fine, it felt great to be out and about with my l'il one. Then factor in a car ride, quickly followed by Loud. Relentless. Screaming. I'm talking gulping wails, horse throat, thoughts that surely there is a large creature in the backseat munching on your baby. There isn't. But no matter how much you tell yourself she is fine, she just wants to be picked up, no matter how loud you turn on the radio, your own personal meltdown is almost assured. If you're a mom. Then factor in traffic, with death threats to anyone who tries to slow you down. DON'T YOU KNOW THERE'S A SCREAMING BABY IN THIS CAR???? People wonder why we don't enjoy mommy daughter jots around town more often.

Anyhoo, my little munchkin, despite her infrequent meltdowns (and my own) is a pure delight. Seeing her discover the world around her makes everything feel different for me. It's like the little details in life become shiny again, and you see them through the eyes of this new, tiny human. Though actually moving about in the world is not as easy as it once was, it's worth every ounce of effort. There is no greater happiness then watching her delight as she discovers herself and her surroundings. Being a mom is so very cool.

dinner and a movie

Well hey guys, guess what I'm doing tonight?
I'm going on a date!

It's about time we had a little one on one time, just the two of us. You know we're all shotgun married, baby comes and rocks our world and we're like hello? Who the hell are you?

I love him, I do. But I'll just say that we need this.

A friend of mine came over today, with her little 6 week old baby, and we caught up and talked about babies and gooed and gaa'ed over our little ones and in the back of my mind I'm thinking, man, who'd of thunk I'd be here, actually enjoying this. Life is funny. In a split second it completely changes and you're forced into a new way of being meanwhile perhaps standing with your mouth open saying "but, but, wait....". Being a parent is really nothing like I thought it'd be. Except that I knew that I'd love her. And I do. So stinkin much.

So the big decision of the night is "The Hangover" or "Julie/Julia". I'm pushing for Julia but we'll see.....

My guru

There are many things in this life of mine that I am blessed for. But one facet in particular are my friends with babies. I never knew this would become so important to me until I had little Ellie. As I've experienced my daily struggles and triumphs, it's so refreshing to have a support system of female mommies who actually care and contribute to this new language I'm talking in.

That said, there is one person in particular who is two steps ahead of me, plowing the road during a winter storm as I drive directly behind her. Said guru is actually my next door neighbor Betsy who has, count em, not one, but TWO infants to take care of. And that alone puts her in a respect bracket that I never knew existed. I soak up her wisdom like a sponge, I really do. Betsy's babies have 2 months on little Ellie, so I always feel like I'm getting a preview. I can't tell you the number of times I've said to Mike, "Betsy said...." and "Betsy does this....." And to think just a few months ago her and I were relishing in our pregnancy bliss sucking down Dairy Queen milkshakes and talking about all the things that were to come, both completely ignorant to How It Really Is.

(Zoe and Jude with Ellie)

Our close proximity has been awesome and I've spent many an afternoon over at this household watching Betsy perform her "circuit". Babies breastfeed (sometimes tandem), burp, change diapers, swing time, bumbo chair to play gym to tummy time to jumping station thingy to change diapers to breastfeeding to nap time. Holy crap! Before you know it literally hours have gone by and I realize I have beads of sweat and I was only spectating, holding my little sleeping baby . Add a little cholic to the situation, a little swine flu (yes, swine flu), make it out to the other side and you are officially.....


A Guru!


I know that Betsy often hears from people "I don't know how you do it". I don't think anybody "knows" how they do it, until its here, and they must. I think it's amazing the amount of strength that a person can muster up when the situation calls for it. Betsy and all you other mamas out there with multiple babies (like Kim), my hat goes off to you. I don't know how you do it.

the best and the worst

My new favorite thing to do is to scout out and read on new parenting blogs. For the first time ever I feel an alliance with these mystery women writers, and I find myself feeling emotions right along side them. I want to know about their struggles and their joys. I want to know because I'm right there with them, unknowingly seeking support in this very peculiar form of camaraderie...the blog.

That said, I discovered Gorillabuns and The Spohrs (thanks to Jonniker) and this morning suddenly became engrossed in the lives of these women, and my heart is literally aching as I have followed their journey of losing their children.

It's hard to fathom such a nightmare. Ever since that moment Eleanor was born and I heard that first cry, this new emotion formed inside of me that I had never experienced. It is love, but it is an intense and almost painful love, like your heart has been removed from your chest and now exists in this little tiny creature who is, so amazingly, your daughter. Her face, I stare at it. All day. She is truly the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

And though it can't be healthy to go thinking like this, I have spent my morning consumed in these tragedies, so I have gotten myself a bit worked up. These blogs contain the stories that are literally my worst nightmare. And so my heart is pouring over for these women. These strong, brave, terribly unlucky women. And I just pray that these stories never, ever happen to me and my Eleanor.

That said, my SIDS patrol just kicked into a new gear. I've had a terrible habit of letting Ellie nap on our bed, and even though there are never pillows around, this unsafe practice can not continue. Also we can no longer leave our little munchkin on the couch, even if leaving the room for a split second. Her legs are getting STRONG and she's already able to roll over. The fan, always on. The pacifier, let her have it. This evilness that is SIDS, that we don't really understand, I heed all of the advice to prevent it. Because I can say, and I don't mean to sound over dramatic, I literally don't know what I would do if anything were to happen to her.

And so yes, this is a drag of a blog today, but as a NEW mom, this is the shit that goes through my head. And so thanks blog for letting me talk about it, and then letting me move on from it. Because Eleanor IS here, and she is so beautiful, and perfect, and healthy, and thank you God for such a miracle. I truly, truly feel blessed, every single day.

What we did today

Today I have a whole list of errands I need to do, none of them ginormous or anything...things like go to the post office, go to the store. But there are about 5 things on the list. FIVE THINGS!

Being a new mom does make me extra cautious, and leaving the house now requires factoring in so many variables. Is it too hot? Is it naptime? Can I get this done before the next feeding? Stroller, sling or carseat? Will the baby be fussy? To have 5 things to do is borderline overwhelming. So far a trip to the post office has equalled "what we did today". I know. Kind of pathetic.

I need to start sucking it up and rejoin the world. Yes, it will be a huge hassle. No, it will never be time efficient. Yes she may be fussy in public. Yes I may have to breastfeed away from the house. But there is a growing list of things that need to be done and I suppose I ought to start getting to it. We've been in a fine little cocoon here in new baby land. Time to check out the rest of the world!

Greetings from my royal throne!!!

Ok, maybe not a royal throne, it's the couch actually, and this is where I am camped out. Being a new breastfeeding mom has really relegated me to to this little corner. And you'd know it's mine because at all times its covered with Martha Stewart magazines, my water bottle, my phone, remote controls, my PUMP, napkins, a clock, baby books and various other crap. This is where I spend, I'm guessing, about 30-40 hours a week (at least). This is a new kind of life for me now, well the Mom one for sure, but I'm talking about the sitting one. Baby's gotta eat and baby sure don't eat fast! So now there are new little things that keep me entertained:

• - pumping. I'm not a huge fan per se but if you're pumping and you hit one of those little milk resevoirs, well I'm sorry, that's almost as good as getting a really great blackhead. Almost.
• - True Blood. This is one hell of a good show (HBO) and (sorry Mike) I have an obscene teenage-like crush on the lead vampire. Oh my.
• - Facebook. Hate to love it, love to hate it.
• - Sex and the City reruns. I don't care how often I've seen it, those shows keep me so entertained. And one show = one feed just about. Good for the middle of the night feed.
• - Here's the big one: I went and bought the camera I have been lusting after for months!!!! So now I have to figure out how to use it.

Let's be clear. I'm not a total couch potato right now. I've got stuff to do and I try to get out and exercise at least once a day. But this (albeit temporary...I hope!) lifestyle of couch living seems to be the way I roll these days. So excuse me, the couch/baby is calling and I've got a perfect indentation of my ass to greet me!

Still here

I've had several people tell me to get on with the blogging and post something new. There are two reasons why I've been slacking on this. a) because being a new mom is so much more time consuming then I ever thought possible and b) because I don't want to bury my last entry. My last entry was the best entry I've ever written and the best moment I've ever experienced. And now all other entries send that one stellar entry down south to no-man's land on the blog. Sigh.

So it's day 8 of Eleanor's life and I had no idea things would change this much. I wasn't prepared for the anxiety, the oh-my-god-she-hasn't-moved-in-over-a-minute feeling. I wasn't prepared for the emotion, for the intense, rock your world LOVE that would occur. I could sit and look at her for hours, studying every grimace, every crevice on her beautiful baby skin, listening to every coo. She is so totally awesome.

But there have been struggles. Number one being my MILK. It seems that my milk is here, but not a whole lot. I've never felt engorgement or let down. This has really led to some feelings of inadequacy. Of course I want to be able to provide nourishment for my baby as nature intended. But apparently I have to work a little harder at this than others. So now I have rented a hospital grade breast pump. When Ellie wants to eat I feed her from breast as normal, then pump, then give her the supplemental milk that I create. It's very time consuming; about an hour per feed. But I am willing to do whatever it takes to make this happen. The experience of breastfeeding is very important to me. However this lifestyle certainly can't be maintained for a super long time. So I'm just praying to the milk gods to please give me a little extra attention right now.

I cry a lot. And I'm not really sad. I'm told that this milk production business really messes with your hormones, so I'm attributing much of the crying to that. Plus there's the lack of sleep, the quintessential new mom phenomena which has not escaped me. It's amazing how well you (think you) can rally on very little sleep. Which probably yields to the crying. And then there's that little precious nugget of love that you realize you'd do anything for. And that feeling makes me cry because I don't know what else to do with that emotion. So I cry it out. Kind of wierd.

So if you saw me 10 days ago, and you saw me today, you would have to notice the changes. I'm not pregnant (!) for one, and for two I've become a different person. I'm a mom now. And I see the world through these new mom eyes. I think of things as how they will affect myelf and my daughter. If you could look inside my body you would find a heart that was so engorged with love that you wouldn't even recognize it as my own. And that's the way I feel. Overcome. Overfilled. Overtired. Overjoyed.

Let's revisit our favorite subject, shall we?

Today I'm going to talk about pregnancy. I hate to do this, I don't want this to turn into a pregnancy blog. But as I'm searching my brain for something remotely interesting, she kicks. A big jolt-me-out-of-whatever-thought-I-was-in kick. And there it is. I'm pregnant with pregnancy on the brain. I can't fight it.

And so, at the risk of sounding completely obsessed with pregnancy, here is

Top 10 adjustments that must be made when pregnant:

1. Social life. Who knew I had so many friends that were pregnant? And oh yeah, what's a party?

2. Socks. You can't just put them on. You have to do a series of forward bends to get your momentum. One bend (kind of), two bends (further), three bends (touchdown!). To get on one sock.

3. Sleep. You can't sleep on your belly. You can't sleep on your back flat. You have to sleep on your side...preferrably the left so the baby gets the most oxygen. Which leads me to

4. The organization of your precious sanctuary....your bed. You now have a body pillow for sleep. You stick it under the sheets (good night Mike! Don't mind this big honkin pillow between us!) You spoon it and it's great. But then, in the middle of the night, you want to change positions so you either a)relocate the big pillow to your other side along with all the other sheets/blankets on top of it thereby exposing your bed partner, or b) hurl you and your big old belly up over the pillow, a process that could potentially be likened to trying to hop a fence. Good times in the middle of the night.

5. Clothes. While maternity pants are wonderful in so many ways, they are designed to fit you during a very small window of your pregnancy, when you fit into them just perfectly. However unless in that window you are walking around most of the time with your pants creating a butt that goes down to your knees. And don't even bother being modest about your bum crack anymore. By now everyone's seen it. Sexy!

6. Smells. Oh my God someone farted two room away and it' making you sick!

7. Forgetfulness. If you were bad before you're doomed now. Oh sorry Mrs. So-and-so patient. I know your husband is dying and you're completely consumed, but can you please help me find my keys???

8. The kicking. Which I love. Which I'm obsessed with. So if you come into a room and you see me looking down at my belly, motionless, smiling, you'll know why. I may say to you "wait, wait, look at this." And you may look, 30 seconds or so, and if you're lucky you'll see the movements of the baby's acrobatics. Or you may start looking at your watch. I can't make her jump on command you know!

9. Endurance. I'm a runner kind of girl. I ran a freaking marathon! But don't mind that, you just go on up ahead. Don't mind the girl waddling behind you clutching that cramp under her belly. I'll be fine. Go! Go!

10. The realization that you're going to soon have a baby and that you will be a mom. This is the biggest adjustment of all.


(10.a: Emotional: Like you go back and read your post and then get all teary when you read the last line.
Why? Because you're PREGNANT!!)

I got nuthin.

I'm growing dull. I'm sitting in front of this computer and usually I have a myriad of events or ideas that I want to write about it, but today, this week, nuthin. Because there's nothing really exciting about working all week, or becoming obsessed with knitting, or taking many naps. Routine has found its way into my life. Somehow it snuck in.

I know this will all change once baby comes. But even baby in my belly has changed me. The things I'm interested in, the people I hang out with, the things I can't do (winter in colorado, snowboard with dust), the foods that I eat, the clothes that I wear, my stamina, my nerves. I can't help but wonder if I'll ever go back to the me that I knew, the one that could never stop moving, was never happy with just relaxing. My newest project is cutting out my favorite articles in my Martha Stewart magazines. Hello? Summer?

What will motherhood do to me? Will this blog become a baby blog? Will I become obsessed with my baby? Will I have nothing interesting to say anymore? Silly. I know. I'm excited to be a mom, truly. I love this little baby so darn much I can't even say. But I'm kind of mourning something right now, and I've only just realized that this is occuring. I miss old me. I miss fun , spontaneous Summer that took off every weekend for some cool new adventure. Old Summer never gave knitting a second glance, because it meant sitting still for too long, an impossible task. I'm on hat #3 this week.

And this is okay. I really do get this, this big picture. I'm growing up, becoming a parent, getting older. And I see beauty and fun in this, I swear I do. Life is a cool journey and my scenery is changing.

But I can tell you right now that this baby is going to have a heck of a lot of fun with her mama.

Estrogen, prolactin, progesterone...oh MY!

By geez, I think they got me.

It seems those little buggers have taken a nose dive right into the middle of my brain. They're making me feel a little bit nutso here. That must have been them when I came home bawling buckets because I got a ticket. They must be the reason I've been even more dingbatty than usual. They're what's making me frumpy and tired. They're making me irritable. They're turning me into little Nelly Nincompoop.

Long live the myth of men trying to understand what it is like to be a woman. Impossible task! They don't know what's it like to be going along in the world as your person, lah-di-dah, and then one day your brain gets hijacked with these little tiny molecules and then you are not the same. You lose control. You have NO FREAKING idea why you feel like you do, why you want to scream at someone, why commercials make you cry, why you want to go to bed at 8pm every night. Only that you do. You must.

How smart Mike was to go out with his friends this evening because queen sobby over here went and watched Love Actually. And then Sex in the City. And then I looked at a bunch of baby pictures on the internet and read all kinds of young mom posts and had the crazy epiphany that "Oh my God, I'm really having a WHAT? A BABY?".

I'm going to be a mom????!!!!

I need a tissue. And maybe some chocolate.