On Memorial Day We Drink Sam Adams

I read a certain blog pretty regularly, written by a mama who is far more poetic and sentimental and glass-not-just-half-full-but-overflowing than I am. She's also a photographer with gorgeous kiddos and a beautiful home. Despite the fact that she is very honest about the (serious) challenges her family faces, sometimes when I read her blog her life looks and sounds so magical that I wouldn't be surprised if tomorrow she posted a picture of a unicorn sleeping on her front lawn.

Every once in a while the sappy yet completely sincere tone of this particular blog irks me. That's really not a criticism (I absolutely love the writing and the photos - and actually I aspire to be more in love with the moment and welcoming of unicorns), it's just a personality difference. Idealistic and romantic are probably not words anyone would use to describe me.

Right?

But we just had one of those weekends that was so perfect and memorable I felt like I was living inside one of her 'life is beautiful' blog posts. It made me want to bust out all of my flowiest adjectives and capture every fleeting moment in both words and photos.



Grinning, glowy little baby...beaming mama.

Matilda is going to be four months tomorrow, and she is just exploding with smiles, babbles, silly expressions and noises. She grabs everything and tries to stuff it in her mouth, she rubs her eyes when she's tired and looks so much like a kid that it makes my heart stop, she adores anything brightly colored, she's intensely curious and most importantly every day she shows off more of her personality. Joshua and I were home together for the whole three day weekend and every day with her was just...glorious (whoop! nice adjective).

If you live in Chicago you know this has been the lamest, chilliest, rainiest spring of all time (I'm not sure that's actually a fact, but I think emotions are really what matter when it comes to weather anyways) and then this weekend torrential storms suddenly gave way to a scorching and sunny Memorial Day. We tucked Matilda deep beneath the sunshade of her stroller and roamed all over the neighborhood, sucking up iced coffee and accidentally burning our shoulders because inevitably every year we are so excited for the summer we forget how quickly pasty turns to lobster in the sun.



It's quick, my pale friends. Quick.

Matilda's pudgy toes and buttery thighs have been bare since summer arrived yesterday morning. I think she has worn at least six outfits in 48 hours, partly because she is a drooly mess these days, and partly because I've been impatiently waiting to put her in sundresses and rompers and then my mind sort of exploded from how cute they all are. She runs her hands over her skin constantly, like she is just as surprised as the rest of us by how soft babies are. I love being able to see her big belly and the wrinkly, stretchy skin on her back and her fluffy cloth diaper booty.



What did we do this weekend? Really nothing extraordinary. We saw friends and family, we got take-out, we drank Sam Adams because Joshua said that was the patriotic thing to do (um...ok),we took Helo to the parking lot a block away that has become our lazy day dog park, we went to church, we pushed Matilda in endless loops around the neighborhood, we made a last minute trip to Jewel for hot dogs last night because I said eating leftover Chinese food for Memorial Day wasn't patriotic (oh yes, two can play this game). We used the last of our baby giftcards to buy Matilda a tragically large, bright, jungle-themed activity seat/exersaucer/jumper thing and the absolute joy on her little face made me heavily regret my aversion to plastic baby crap. Guess who loves plastic baby crap? Oh that's right...babies.



Matilda hollers at that parrot lineup like they have gravely offended her, and it is hilarious. We laugh at her and she just yells louder and then pauses to smile at us, which makes us laugh more. It also makes me realize again what a privilege it is to be a parent. We make so many decisions about what our babies eat, or don't eat, their schedules, or lack thereof, what they wear and see and listen to and that is the raising part of having children. Then there is the pure wonder of just watching a baby grow up and change from a sleepy newborn to a babbly, opionated, parrot-taming little human. It is really no less surprising than if we walked out to the living room one day and a unicorn was standing there all like, hey can I sleep here tonight?

Ok, I've killed it. I've killed the unicorn thing.

This long weekend really was gorgeous. Stormy, sunny, sappy sweet..glass full to overflowing. However, all the idyllic moments in the world cannot spontaneously improve my self-portrait photography skills. Apparently urban parents struggle to quickly focus their hipstamatic camera when they should be paying more attention to their dog and baby blocking the sidewalk.



Oh yes. We are those people. Watch out, Chicago.

Happy Nurses Week!

Yes, I have returned to work just in time for National Nurses Week! I like to think of this week as a great time to celebrate our challenging and rewarding profession, and also a great time to receive a new tote bag or some sort of hospital-logo'd swag. Or even a pen. I'm not picky.

To be entirely honest, I've never considered being a stay-at-home mom. There are so many reasons - I love my job, I love contributing financially to our family, I have much better and cheaper health insurance, we live in an expensive city and have a mortgage and a houseful of animals and a coffee habit to maintain and I just found out how much preschool costs around here...maybe I'm getting off track here, but the bottom line is that we are a dual income family by choice. This is what works for our family, at this point in our lives. Of course there is also the small matter of me being contractually obligated by the federal government to stay at my job for another 1.5 years while they pay off my student loans. I'm pretty sure defaulting on that contract requires me to pick up trash along the highway or give my condo to a diplomat or something tragic, so! Off to work by choice and the fear of Uncle Sam I go.

But even though I knew I was going back to work 12 weeks after Matilda was born, it's not like I was thrilled about it. I work nights and (please don't hate me for what I'm about to say) my baby sleeps like a rock and I had a very restful three months off. I am actually cringing looking at that sentence; somewhere out there another mom is cursing me and God is checking off the "Colic" box on our future children. But I was nervous about all the sleep switching and Matilda's schedule and then about a week before my first day back I had this meltdown that basically went "No one can take care of my baby like I can! No one knows how to calm her down like I can! What if I can't pump enough at work and my boobs explode! What if what if SIDS SIDS SIDS I don't want to go sob sob SIDS what if exploding boobs sob sob WEEP!" Joshua would probably like to write his own version of this story, but the bottom line is I had been calm and realistic for my entire maternity leave and then I took this spectacular dive into crazytown. Even though the only people I ever have to leave Matilda with are Joshua, my mother-in-law, and my best friend. What a sketchy group of 'babysitters'.

Two weeks ago I went back to work, because that's our new (and old) routine, and because I don't want to be in the default chain gang, and it was shockingly not that bad.

I did cry when I walked out the door for the first time. And then I had a moment at Starbucks about 7 minutes later when the barista asked what she could get me and I fully intended to say an iced venti Americano but instead I choked up and just made this little squeak instead. But I pulled myself together and got to work and it was fine. I love being a nurse (Happy Nurses Week to us!), I love taking care of babies, and thankfully I am not at all a weepy mess around the sick kiddos even though I am a mom now. My boobs did not explode, Joshua did not sleep through Matilda crying, I did not forget how to do my job, and then I rushed home in the morning and have never been happier to see my little family.

I won't say that being a working mom - all two weeks of it - has been entirely smooth sailing. It's difficult to get myself ready and get enough sleep before and after work when I just want to spend time with Matilda. It's annoying to leave my patients to pump, and annoying to remember everything I need to make that happen. I end up messing up our schedules trying to breastfeed Matilda right up until the very second I have to run out the door so I don't have to pump so many times at work. We also had some trouble figuring out which bottles and nipples were best for her, even though she's taken bottles without any fuss before. It's exhausting to wake up so many times to breastfeed when I'm sleeping between shifts, since she goes for long stretches overnight but needs to eat every three hours during the day. And then this past week, Tilda was entirely obnoxious and cranky for Joshua and he was tired and frustrated himself. I called him to see how things were going and I heard the baby screeching in the background right before he yelled in a high pitched voice, "I am freeaaakkkiing out!" They certainly weren't having a good time, and I couldn't do anything about it, and that sucked.

But! I hung up that phone at work, said a little prayer for Joshua's sanity, and then realized I was actually glad I wasn't home. While I don't think I'll ever happily run out the door to work, I like being there and having a break from the day to day mommy routine. I love my coworkers, they make me laugh, and twelve hours can fly by if you are having a good time with the people around you. I also like knowing that all the time I spent busting my ass in college was worth it for this, a flexible career that allows me to have lots of time with my own baby and still take care of other babies who need help getting started in life. And Joshua is an awesome dad who pulled it together, calmed our daughter down, put her to bed and felt really proud of himself that he did it alone.

There is always the mama guilt, I think biology and The Internet will not allow you to live your life without it. I feel guilty for leaving Matilda to go to work, and guilty that I like going to work. They tell me it doesn't get any better. Which is why I am hoping for a tote bag. And why I'm so thankful that tomorrow is bringing me my first real paycheck since Tilda was born (Happy Nurses Week to ME!)



The other morning I took some pictures of the tulips that are randomly growing on the ledge of the fifth floor of the parking garage at work. I have all these sappy thoughts about beauty in the midst of concrete (there is a metaphor here, and I think it's fairly obvious) but I can't even take myself seriously enough to go down that road. I love tulips. Here they are at work. And here I am at work. They are gorgeous, and being a working mom is just fine. The End.

Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day to my beautiful mom Claire!



I love my mom for so many reasons, but my empathy and respect for her have certainly increased now that I have a daughter myself. I think about Matilda growing up and I barely want to let her go to elementary school three blocks away. I know my mom must have felt the same way, but she never stopped me from plunging out into the world. When I came home from the trip where I met Joshua, I wrote her a letter gushing that I was sure he was going to be my husband and slipped it under her bedroom door because I was too scared to say it out loud. She never laughed at me or told me I was being a silly 19 year old - instead, she saved the letter I wrote her and gave it to me after Joshua and I really did get married. When I decided to move to Seattle from Massachusetts a few months after writing that letter, she never said it was too far, never made me feel guilty about the 3000 miles I was putting between us, or told me that the job I was moving for probably wasn't going to work out. It didn't, and I'm sure she wasn't surprised. But I found that out on my own, and that particular life fail was far more of a growing experience for me because of it.

I hope I will be a brave mom to Matilda, and let her go when she needs to go and I want to keep her close for my own selfish reasons. My mom helped me pack my bags to move away from home, she was excited (and probably terrifed, although she didn't show it) when I got engaged, she was supportive when we decided to leave Seattle and move to Chicago almost on a whim. She outlasted me on the dance floor at my wedding, genuinely thrilled to celebrate Joshua and I even though we were barely legal, totally broke, and blissfully stupid. But she supported me through all those things that seemed crazy at the time and have now led to the life I have and love right now. I'm so incredibly thankful for my mom and the way she navigated the tricky passage into parenting adult children. Our relationship is also a deep friendship because of it, and my greatest hope is that I will be able to be the same kind of mother to Matilda - strong, passionate,honest,compassionate - that my mother was to me.

I love you Mom. Happy Mother's Day!

27

It's official.

I'm in my late twenties...and I'm pretty sure I like it.

I woke up to this sweet face...



These were delivered from my in-laws, who always remember yellow flowers are my favorite...



I went out to lunch with Jessica and Rachel here...



We had takeout sushi and thai for dinner, I opened sweet gifts and cards and had a silly night at home after our cranky little miracle went to bed...



Joshua is the best husband ever and got me exactly what I wanted...



And now I'm in bed watching a happy baby stretch and sigh in her sleep...



Writing with my boots on and a overly affectionate cat at my feet...



I'm sure it's obvious that I'm a little obsessed with my $1.99 hipstamatic app, my new favorite birthday present to myself...



It makes everything look dreamier and poignant and far more hip than real life, and I'm into that.

26 basically culminated in all my dreams coming true...



And now that dream is quite literally awake. So hello 27. I think we're gonna get alone fine.

Easter

I've gotten behind on posting because I am actually tangled up in writing so much. I currently have dozens of unfinished paragraphs regarding cloth diapers, how bad I am at grocery shopping and meal planning, and my new role as a working mom. (Those are three separate posts, don't worry). I also have another draft that contemplates how Matilda will ever learn the benefits of sensible shoes when her mother is happier ripping her feet to shreds in order to Look Cute. That last one is turning out to be quite the metaphor for the future challenges of raising a girl in a sexualized and superficial world. So, it may not be done until she's twelve. Or ever. And then in the meantime Joshua wrote such a sweet post about showing Matilda the stars and now I have so much I'd like to say about what a great dad he is and also about how being in places where you can clearly see stars sort of terrifies my urban self.

But in the meantime, while I continue to slowly organize all these posts and random thoughts, such as the perils of using diaper rash cream on a cloth diapered baby (don't do it! It stains, and she didn't even have a rash in the first place. I am full of regret!) I also have Easter pictures of our little lady to share.



Here is she is after Easter dinner at Joshua's parents. We celebrated on the Saturday before so we could be at our own church on Sunday. This was also her only chance for an Easter basket, since we are cruel and realistic parents who did not go shopping for pastel-colored, developmentally appropriate gifts for a three month old with no concept of the holidays. That's what grandparents are for.



As you can see, she's so excited to head off to church and joyfully celebrate the Resurrection!



I think this picture is a perfect example of how Matilda comes by her nasty expressions honestly. I have no idea why I am making that terrible face. Matilda wasn't fussing and I'm not upset. Church was beautiful, she was smiling and flirting with everyone she could see, and when she started getting a little bored Joshua took her out so I could listen to the sermon. I even had enough coffee that morning. Basically, I have no excuses for why it looks like I am verbally accosting my child. Because I certainly am not.



We finally pulled it together for a family Easter picture,and yes, we did overdress the baby and then wear jeans ourselves. She is the main event anyways, right?

We went out to lunch with a group of friends after church, and Matilda spent the entire time sleeping happily in her carseat. She woke up all smiley when we got home, so we figured we would take a few more quick pictures of her first Easter (you know we weren't satisfied with those screaming carseat pics). But she had another idea, which was to vomit profusely all over her outfit and at that point we just gave up.

Despite the setback in overdocumenting our daughter's life, Easter was lovely. It's the vibrant celebration of our faith and of the promise that we have life after this life - something that I appreciate so much more now that Matilda is here. Easter is the perfect reminder that despite how easy it is to get caught up in what we have and want,we have already been given everything we need.



And this little girl...armwarmers, bunny hat, peep-toe socks, puke-covered Easter dress and all...well, she is far beyond what we need. She's like an entire Easter basket of Adorable.