Love and Ineloquence

I've been meaning to write a post for, like, ever, about all the lovely gifts people have sent our way, but I was suffering from a bout of Julie Wannabe Syndrome, or JWS, which caused me to want to post pictures of everything for y'all to see, but I don't know where the camera is. Its USB cable is coiled forlornly on my desk, like a snake in mourning, or possibly hibernation. So there are some pictures from Months Gone By, and there are some missing, and I'm sorry. About the missing ones, I mean.

Yes. Anyway, in no particular order:

Julie sent a breathtaking quilt as well as many little Jedi shirts, as well as an already Charlie-fied mini cosleeper and Kangaroo Korner adjustable fleece pouch. We use everything, every day. Of course I would love nothing more* than to have to send back the last two in a hurry, Julie. Ahem.

*for my own selfish reasons, including simply wanting more Julie-and-Paul-raised little people in the world, so disregard as needed, Julie.

Afrindiemum sent a package of love containing some homemade receiving blankets (view one here that features athletic frogs) that are not only funky-fresh but big enough for me to tie around Sophia's swing so she doesn't swing them off. Also she sent some equally wonderful flannel wipes, which are in heavy rotation. Also she sent my favorite baby dress, seen here back in October, but which still fits. Sophia wore it to church on Christmas.

Mollie, formerly of the now-linkless Greener Pastures, sent (and here the photographic record fails me) a snapsuit featuring a ladybug (and I cannot wait to dress Sophia in it, it's 18-month size but at this rate it'll fit in a couple of weeks) and two of the coolest hats I've ever seen. One has a mouse on the top, but reverses to a cat-face design with ears; another one along those lines features a dog with ears. LOVE LOVE LOVE them, and again, cannot wait until Sophia's head grows into them. (Hilariously, while her height and weight are usually around 80th percentile, her head is steady around 40th. It makes her look like baby Jesus in old paintings, you know, before people figured out that babies and adults are proportioned differently.)

And then there's my beloved Mamarama, who has sent countless things over the years but also, recently, a knitted baby blanket in deep red, and a handmade green hat.

So. Man. I'm just...grateful. Thank you all.

* * * * *
More on the theme of gratitude now:

Last Thursday was one of those days that I get maybe once or twice a year, a day so great that I will actually, oh, God, I know how cliched it is, but I will actually look back on it and its greatness for years to come. That good, yo.

If we want to be truly technical about the beginning of the day, that would be midnight, at which point I'd been in bed for maybe an hour after bouncing and rocking and nursing an extremely fussy baby (teething? Who can say?). And an hour after that, I got up for round, oh, three of that. And then an hour after that, I got up for round four. Et cetera. Et cetera. Et fucking cetera. Et fuckfuckfuck oh GOD please go to sleep cetera.

Then I hustled myself up, in and out of the shower, and out the door in time for the ten a.m. La Leche League meeting, topic: Nighttime Parenting.

The thing about our local LLL meeting is that Marta is our leader, and I tell you, if somehow one could replicate Marta and send a replicant to every city, all of LLL's image problems would vanish, and there would be much rejoicing (yaaay!). If you've read her blog, you know she's funny and wise and compassionate and thoughtful, and if you've met her in person, you know that what you get on the blog is the tip of the iceberg. I watch her mothering very carefully, jotting little notes in my  head. I pay attention to how she handles situations, filing the information away for future reference. I am so grateful she's my friend. Heck, I'm just glad she's in the world.

So anyway, meeting, blah blah blah, and Marta said something that (even four days later! that's a long time for me!) sticks with me: adjust your attitude, and the situation becomes more tenable.
Rather than spend your wakeful wee hours cursing your up-ness, say to yourself: oh, yes, of course I am awake! That's just how it is. And then do what you need to do without worrying about the supposed-to. (Much easier when you do not have to get up and go to work the next day, granted.)

Of course since then Sophia has been sleeping more or less fine, as long as there is a nipple in her mouth. So I haven't had as much chance to use my newfound (borrowed) insight. I'm sure something will come up.

After the meeting I went home to find that Sean had cleaned the bedroom and made the bed, leaving the covers turned down neatly on my side of the bed. Sophia and I got in and took a glorious two-hour nap, until I was awaked by Kate calling to tell me she was ready to receive visitors.

We got out to her house with NO CAR CRYING and only one unplanned detour (I get lost more than anyone I know), and got to see a new baby who made Sophia look sort of like Godzilla, and an extremely proud big sister. And of course I got to hang out with the other mother whose mothering I observe carefully, taking notes all the while. I love how Kate is with Naomi, relaxed and amused and very, very responsive. (She is also an LLL leader, Kate, and how I wish we could send Kate replicants out there along with Marta.) Plus I just love hanging out with her.

So: I got to spend the day with two of my favorite people in the world, Sophia was happy all day, we got a nap (!!!!!!), and Sean cleaned the bedroom (because he is great and thoughtful). To top it off I picked him up from work on the way home, which meant that when Sophia finally had her meltdown, he was sitting in the back seat with her.

I wanted to write about this more eloquently, but it just ain't gonna happen tonight, I guess. My life is full of amazing people. Can't hardly believe it.

Comments

[mamamarta]

okay, i'm totally blushing here. thanks for your kind words.

perceptions are funny, aren't they? i left that meeting feeling totally flustered, like i had modeled the very worst micah's-stressing-me-out, snappish ("micah, STOP THAT RIGHT NOW!), un-lll parenting (by the way, thanks jo for sort of keeping an eye on him; multi-tasking is not generally one of my fortes, and trying to lead a meeting and keep an eye on micah goes way beyond multi-tasking...). i also left with an uneasy feeling that the moms at the meeting left, at best, feeling like "sheesh, that was *so* not helpful" and at worst, feeling like i was judging them (did i mention it's hard to choose your words carefully when micah is pulling down the curtains?) i do really believe this about babies and sleep: if you stop thinking about their waking and your sleep deprivation as a problem that needs to be fixed, and rather as a reality that needs to be coped with, it totally changes your experience. it doesn't make it not hard; it makes it hard in a different way that's not so bad, because it allows you to focus more on the good stuff. i think there's hard like, say, being infertile is hard; and then there's hard like, say, running a marathon is hard. they are both pretty darn hard, but for me, sleep (and all the hard parts of parenting, for that matter) is more like running a marathon than it is like infertility. if that makes any sense....

and how did i get off on this tangent anyway? my point was that i had a queezy feeling that the meeting had been a total bomb, so thanks so much for letting me know that it wasn't. for you at least. and you are quite something!

so glad the rest of the day was so nice.

[MFA Mama]

He he. I bet I get lost more than you though. Yuh huh. OH YES I DO, SHUTUPSHUTUPDOSO!

Love. It makes the best of us resort to ineloquence. And pimping. Don't forget the pimping (cough cough JULIA JULIE cough cough Thumbscre*ws). Although I am by far the worst at it; whereas

[MFA Mama]

whereas someone in Iowa *cough cough BIHARI* suggested I break out the fruit of the grape and I forgot how to use links and decided to shut the eff up, already.

[Toni]

Would you believe that I made my daughter the same froggie blanket? I LOVED the fabric and couldn't pass it up!

[Julie]

Hahahaha, LOVE that frog blanket!

Baby's not bad, either.

[Jo]

Ohmygod, MFA Mama is totally hammered. Heh.

[Lisa C.]

Marta's words are true. I discovered it myself when my son was a tiny infant. I had all these "expectations" for him, like that he would nap for more than 2.5 seconds and be quiet for most of the day. When my expectations weren't being met I became anxious, cranky, and eventually started getting pissed off. At a newborn. Fat lot of good that was doing me. So I let go of my expectations and *poof* all my anxiety and anger flew out the window. It helped, but it is HARD to change your perceptions.

[Amy P.]

De-lurking to second the notion of shifting expectations. My baby didn't sleep, like, ever. I mean, I suppose she slept, but it took her a loooooong time to figure out how to stay asleep for more than 30-40 minutes. My friend (who is also a LLL Leader and I don't know how I would have made it through those early months of parenting without her support, oh my god) suggested that instead of expecting to sleep to just tell myself, "The baby is asleep now. I'm going to rest until she wakes and needs me." Invariably, I would pass out as soon as I lay down. It took some practice, but my irritation at not sleeping when I thought we should be sleeping (say, at night) did abate. I also had less anxiety about sleeping, less "Oh my god, she's sleeping, I should be sleeping, why am I not sleeping? SLEEEEP!"
I won't say my life became perfect then, because it didn't, but I will say that simply having some new, different language helped me adjust my outlook, and that helped me keep some little grasp on my sanity. So far, I mean. Maybe.
Jo - thank you for the blog. Yours, among others, has been a constant companion during the late night hours with my wee one.

[TB]

Right on! I love that bit about adjusting your attitude. Wish I could remember to do it more often.

[afrindiemum]

jealous.

[Cat, Galloping]

you're so right about the attitude/expectations thing. i keep telling myself and my husband that we've got a spectacularly easy baby and i rarely get frustrated by him. possibly he just *is* a spectacularly easy baby though. :)

[Alexa]

I think the shifting expectations thing is a greast tool for a lot of situations--I know it works well for panic/anxiety. The idea that discomfort is okay, and normal, and need not instantly be banished is a powerful (if not very popular) one.

[Alexa]

"great." I meant "great." Sheesh.

[MFA Mama]

Oooookay. I am never drinking again. Re: the shifting expectations thing? Best advice I ever got on breastfeeding, and I forget where I got it, I think a magazine, is to get rid of your clock, and not check the time when the baby wakes you, or keep track of how many times...for some reason you get less worked up if you're not sitting there going "it is THREE, and I was just up at ONE, and even if he sleeps until SIX this time my husband's alarm will go off at FIVE, that bastard, I hate him," etc. I didn't hear about this and try it until my second son was tiny, and I have the best memories now of getting up and just sitting in the glider nursing him and watching his eyes roll around under his little purple-y eyelids and hearing him breathe all huffy when my milk let down.
Sometimes your own expectations are the only thing about a given situation you can change, but doing that can make all the difference in the world. I've done that recently with my third child, and my husband has not, and we have some tense discussions about it. He's still waiting for someone to do something to FIX THE BABY, and I've just accepted that he's going to have special needs for at least the first year of his life and moved on to enjoying how alert and happy a baby he is, even with his tubes and medication schedule and intermittent GI bleeds. My husband seems to think it's a little sick that I can bustle around talking in a normal voice and preparing the next feeding when there is vivid red blood spurting from the cap-end of the tube after a tough reinsertion, but the baby calms down faster if I don't freak out and he'll bleed the same amount whether we count the drops and call the doctor yet again when we already know the guidelines for when to panic and what to just ignore or not.
I just realized I'm probably grossing people out, and I didn't mean to hijack your comments, but changing my expectations recently has really saved my sanity and I'm all a-tingle with the zeal of the newly converted :-) Will shut up now, and go back to moaning over my headache.

[mamamarta]

can i just say i'm feeling really affirmed by all this "me-too-ism" regarding changing expectations? thank you all! because let me tell you, several of the moms at that lll meeting were looking at me like i had two heads. maybe it sinks in slowly, if at all.

mfa mama, this i especially love: Sometimes your own expectations are the only thing about a given situation you can change, but doing that can make all the difference in the world.

i'm gonna remember that. and would you all like to come to the next meeting we have on nighttime parenting??