I'm Sorry, Mom

They say that the job of a mother is the most delayed gratifying job on the planet. Now that I have been a mom for almost a year I have quickly realized that "they" are correct. I have also used this year as a time to reflect about my own mom and her hardships. So, with Mother's Day coming up this weekend, I thought I would share a few apologies to my mom based on what I have learned and experienced during my first year as a mom. Pattie Kohler, this is for you.

Mom, I am sorry for my flatulence. Last night, after I gave my little man a bath, I was drying off his bottom and getting ready to put his diaper on when he let out a toot that I swear I could taste. After I finished gagging, I looked at his sweet face and realized that he had no idea that it is considered poor manners to fart in someone's face. Then I realized that Baby Pam probably did that to my mom. So, Mom, I just wanted to say that I am sorry. I know when you looked at my chubby cheeks as a wee babe, I did not know what I was doing but I would like to apologize for that now. And while we are on the topic of bodily functions . . .

Mom, I am sorry for designing your outfits out of my pee/poop/spit up/split peas/rice

Baby Pamela got all the nasties clean off before Mom did.

cereal/formula/etc. There have been days this past year when I finally sat down after putting Zachary to bed and assessed myself, I realized I was wearing food from every meal Zachary consumed that day. There was no such thing as "I'll wear these jeans again tomorrow." In fact, I keep a Tide stick in the diaper bag for all the times Z has spit up on me. I have had to change clothes countless times because newborn poop is like something from out of this world and it cannot be contained by a mere diaper.  So Mom, I am sorry that as a baby I made you look like you just walked through a cafeteria during a food fight and I am sorry that I treated your clothes like a public restroom. That was very disrespectful and I humbly apologize.

Mom, I am sorry that I ruined your ta-tas. Yep, I went there. I am getting a little personal here folks, I wouldn't say that my girls were ever spectacular, but breastfeeding has completely ruined them. Don't get me wrong, I have really enjoyed nursing. It is nice to be able to sit down for a little res-bit and snuggle with my baby - especially now that he moves around so much, but good grief! I need to tape them up like Roberta did in the movie Now and Then. (That reference will probably only make sense to girls who grew up during the 90's.) Not only are the ta-tas tainted but my whole body has completely changed like the width of my rib cage to my hips. I don't recognize this thing I am living in anymore. So Mom, I am sorry that as a baby I made you feel like an alien in your own body.

No pictures please, it was a rough night.

Mom, I am sorry I made you feel like an extra as a zombie in the Walking Dead. The first few months of being a new mom are probably similar to being in the trenches at war. You can't sleep for more than an hour or two at a time, you are always on guard, always hungry and weep for your former life. At least you get to snuggle with a cute baby instead of a musket. I definitely suffered from the Baby Blues but I think a lot of that was sleep deprivation. It wasn't until Zachary started sleeping through the night that I felt like a "normal" person again - and I use that word very loosely because I am still in survival mode. Thankfully, I did have you (I am speaking to my mom here since I don't believe my entire fan base was in my home the first few weeks after Zachary was born, but I wouldn't really call myself "lucid" at that point either, so I could be wrong; if so, then I am also speaking to those who were present.) to help me and allow me to get 4 hours of sleep (which was like heaven at the time). So Mom, I am sorry that as a baby I woke you up every three hours just so I could ruin your ta-tas. I was so inconsiderate to not think about how you just pushed a watermelon out of your body and would probably like to rest.

I know what my mom is saying as she is reading this. "It was all worth it and I would do it again." When we are in the difficult moments, it is good to remember that. The thing is that babies are rude and selfish little blobs that don't understand that people don't like to be bothered between the hours of 11 pm and 6 am. But, there are so many things that make all the hard stuff worth it. Like the little teeny toes that poke out of the swaddling blanket, the gas-producing giggle that happens at a 3am feeding, the giant smile you get when you walk into the room, or when your sweet baby rests his head on your shoulder while he sucks his thumb. In those moments you forget about the hard stuff and your cup runneth over. You realize that Pattie is right, it's all worth it, but is doesn't hurt to hear a "thank you" and an "I'm sorry" every now and then.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom. I am sorry I was such a baby. Thank you for loving me.

I mean, it helped that I was so cute.

Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This

Welp, we did it. Troy and I became parents. Zachary Troy was born at 3:33PM on May 30, 2013 and he shares a birthday with his Grandpa Paul who turned 60 that same day. I will be using this post to shamefully share pictures of our handsome little boy. This week, he had his three month birthday and I feel like I have learned so much since pre-parenting days and I thought I would bestow some of that wisdom onto you.

There are so many things that I thought I knew going into this whole child-rearing thing that turned out to be utterly wrong. When my mom came to stay with us to help Troy and me, we laughed about all the things I told my mom while I was pregnant. She said she would get off the phone after hearing how I was going to do things, and tell my dad about how I was just going to have to figure it out the hard way. What a nice mom for doing it that way and not laughing in my face! Seriously, she totally deserves a gold sticker for everything she did for Troy, Zachary and I while she was here. Which brings me to my first lesson learned:

1. I needed my mommy. Before Zachary was born, Troy and I decided that my mom would only come for a week. After all, babies are small. All they do is eat, poop and sleep. We can handle it. My mom thought that we would need her for two weeks, but we knew better. So we made the arrangements with my parents for my mom to stay with us for a week and that was the plan. As that week started to come to an end, my mom called my dad to figure out when he would come to pick her up and I started to get panic attacks. Finally in a fit of tears, I asked - nay, begged - Troy to allow my mom to stay another week, to which of course, he said yes. My mom was very gracious and glad to stay another week. There were still plenty of tears when we had to part though and I continued to call her with questions.

 

This sweet boy loved to sleep during the day, not the night.

2. The first night home is like pulling an all-nighter in college, but the test date never comes. When we were in the hospital, Troy and I took advantage of the nursery. Every three hours, the nurse would wheel in our beautiful baby to eat and then I would ring the call button and the nurse would bring the baby back to the nursery and I would sleep until the next feeding. When we got home, we spent our first night alone. Both of our parents were still in hotels for the weekend and Troy and I figured we could handle things for a night. WRONG. That sweet, adorable, little baby didn't want to have anything to do with sleeping while it was dark. He wanted to cry and fed and be held - all-night-long. We ignorantly thought he was blissfully sleeping while in the nursery at the hospital (HA! HA! HA!). We were such fools.

I am super embarrassed by this photo, but I post it for you.

3. I will still look 8 months pregnant when I leave the hospital. This one was a real downer folks. I spit out an 8 pound, 5 ounce baby, and because I was induced and pumped full of liquid, I was actually MORE swollen when I left the hospital than when I got there - which is saying a lot because my feet resembled that of Fat Bastard's from Austin Powers before I even delivered. I have included a picture just so you get the idea. I look at pictures of myself when we brought home Zachary and it's gross. Now some ladies, leave the hospital gracefully with a mild post-preggo-pooch, like Kate Middleton. Some ladies leave the hospital looking how they did in college, like my friend Krista (Krista, I am sure you'll protest, but you looked smokin' hot after giving birth and you should embrace it.) I however, was not in that small group . . . there was nothing small about me.

4. "Exhausted Mom" jokes have a new meaning and will suddenly become cruelly hilarious. I have never experienced true exhaustion before. Let me tell you, it turns you into a crazy person. Straight up, cra-cra. I would sit on the couch and be fine one minute and start bawling for no reason the next. A lot of that has to do with the insane hormones that are raging through your body and the fact that you just performed something short of a miracle - birth, but a lot of that comes from lack of sleep. I would wake up in the middle of the night for feedings and I would hate everyone I knew who was sleeping. My only friend was my sister who works the night shift at her dispatch job at the airport. When I would hear people without children say they are tired, I wanted to punch them in the face. Not figuratively either, but I would literally clench my fist and get a solid foot stance ready.

5. I will inevitably parent in such a way that makes me look like a monster to "someone" "somewhere." Every Thursday night I have a weekly Skype date with my dear friend Becca. Not only is she one of my closest friends, I consider her an emotional and spiritual mentor. She and I are very similar and so I often ask for her advice because most of the time, what she has done is a great option for me. When Zachary was two months old, he was still feeding and sleeping whenever he wanted to, which made scheduling anything impossible. I was Skyping with Becca then and just broke down in tears due to my #4 lesson. She basically gave me a prescription on what I should do to get Zachary on a sleeping schedule, which was very similar to Baby Wise. You know what, it worked like a charm and Zachary slept all night long! Of course, that first night Troy and I were half asleep all night, just waiting to hear an explosion of cries that never came. Baby Wise is controversial because for some parents, they believe that "crying it out" is cruel, but other parents (like myself and Troy) can see the benefits of babies learning how to soothe themselves back to sleep. Regardless of which camp you're in, you will always get flack from someone on the other side, which is unfortunate because let's be honest, if you're a parent, you need all the support you can get, so why can't we all just get along? :)

Reading Z his Baby Bible before bedtime.

6. I needed the Lord . . . more.  I would be leaving out a HUGE lesson if I didn't mention this. When Zachary was born, I became so much more aware of mortality, which is morbid, I know, but it's true. At every feeding I would pray that the Lord would watch over my sweet, little boy and that he would grow up to be happy and healthy, but more importantly, that he would grow up to love the Lord too. I would also pray for myself that I would have the strength to get through the day with my lack of sleep and that my husband would know how much I loved him even though I wasn't able to give him much attention. Some nights, Zachary and I would cry together, not knowing what was wrong with the other person and I would look to the Lord for comfort. Having a baby has proven to be the most challenging thing Troy and I have ever done and together, we have turned to prayer for guidance and support. It gave us peace that cannot be matched. Here are some of my favorite verses that I recited during this time:

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God." Philippians 4:6

"Then, because so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat, he said to them, "Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest."" Mark 6:31

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest in your souls." Matthew 11:28-29

7. My baby is obviously the cutest baby on the planet. When I first saw Zachary for the first time, I loved him immediately and thought he was so cute. Not in the all-babies-are-cute kind of way, but I thought Zachary was so cute that it was obvious to everyone who ever laid eyes on him. People would comment on his cuteness and I wouldn't even be gracious about it, I would just say, "I know!" My mom warned me about this. She said that after I had kids, I would wonder how I ever thought any one else kids were "the cutest." She was right. Zachary is the cutest and I am going to throw down the gauntlet and challenge anyone to show me a cuter baby. I will of course judge Zachary's cuteness with his competitor. I will probably be biased. You will probably lose.

Love this.

Love this, too.

 8. I love my husband more than I thought I could. Here's were it gets a little mushy, friends. I have known Troy forever and if you would have told Little High School Pammy Kohler that she was going to get to marry Troy Carlson, she probably would have done an awkward giggle and started sweating profusely but she definitely wouldn't have believed you. Troy is my very best friend and I am so blessed to be married to him, but after having our son, it has been even more fun to see him in his new role. When I was pregnant, he was very protective of me. I remember getting a lecture on the importance of being careful going up and down our rickety basement steps. After Zachary was born, he would have a glass of water ready for me at every feeding, do all kinds of housework and hug me when I was having a moment of the "baby blues." Since acts of service is my love language, I felt very loved. When I see him with Zachary, it just melts my heart. The other night he read Zachary his bedtime story, and I as I watched my favorite men snuggling close to each other, my eyes started to water. Every night, we take turns praying over Zachary and when it is his turn to pray, my heart gets a little warmer. Basically, what I am trying to say is that Troy was smokin' hot before he was a dad, now he is pretty much exuding a nuclear-like heat. Ow! Ow!

9. What to Expect When You're Expecting should not be used as a syllabus. I read that book like it was the childbirth Bible everyone claims it to be. Each milestone month during my pregnancy, I would bone up on how my baby was growing, what I can expect from my body and doctor's appointments and how to make my husband feel like he is more involved in the process. Then the last chapter was about what I can expect once the baby is born and what the first week will look like. Let me tell you . . . they left A LOT of stuff out. Like how the week after you give birth, you could be one of the lucky ones who is in so much pain that getting in and out of chairs makes tears spring from your eyes. Or how sometimes circumcisions don't "work" and your child will be one of the lucky ones who will have to have his REDONE when he is one. Or how that gross line that runs up your belly will take FOREVER to lose, along with your baby weight. Who am I kidding? When I am pregnant with baby #2, I will read it again.

10. I am still a neat freak, OCD and an A-type personality. This can be seen by the fact that I needed to have an even number of lessons learned in this blog and 10 seemed like a good number. When I was pregnant, people would always tell me that I would change when I became a mother and that I couldn't be as "rigid" as I was before. You could call these people the messy, B-Type personalities who don't understand me anyway. To a certain extent, this is true, however, I am still me and I still like schedules, plans and things in order. Look at it this way, if you were standing at a riverbank and wanted to change the flow of the river, all you would have to do would be to throw a pebble in the river. It would change the flow because where the pebble is now, water once was able to flow freely. The river is still flowing in the same direction, the pebble just made a slight change in the flow. That is how I feel about motherhood. Zachary is my sweet little pebble. He has changed some things, obviously, but the river doesn't suddenly start flowing in the reverse direction, and I haven't changed who I am at my core, which is a neat freak, who has OCD and an A-type personality, I'm just a mom now too.

Even though being a parent is the hardest thing I have ever done. It is the best. That little boy melts my heart multiple times a day, every day. I love how he has truly made us a family. I know there will be many more lessons to learn as we go.

The Baby Spa

Apparently babies need a lot of stuff. Not that I would know first hand, but I am assuming this from the baby "necessities" that Target sells. Before my friends had children, I would walk down these isles because I knew I wouldn't buy anything. There I would find a plethora of pacifiers, diapers, burp cloths, car seats, pack and plays, etc, with each brand claiming to be the best for your baby. Most of the time, I would get overwhelmed and wander over to the book section. On my way out of the baby labyrinth, I would think to myself, when Troy and I have children, how on earth will we know what we need?! Now that I have gotten used to the idea of my peers procreating, I don't think that babies don't really need all that crap, except for maybe the car seat. That seems important, although a roll of duct tape seems cheaper.

I found out a few weeks ago that my friend, Ashley is pregnant. She is a fellow blog fan who enjoyed the post I wrote on the family stick figures people put on their car. She and our friend, Joanna have even taken pictures of the Baby on Board signs and sent them to me as a cruel joke, that I always find to be hilarious. Though it went against every fiber in my being, I will do almost anything to get a laugh, so Joanna and I decided to get her a Baby on Board window cling and a package of family stick figures to celebrate her little zygote.

Baby's R Us seemed like a good place to look for the Baby on Board sign, so I went there. (By the way, I never realized how completely ridiculous the name "Baby's R Us" is until I typed it.) I walked into this monstrous store reserved for all things baby and almost had a panic attack. Thankfully I found the newborn section before any hyperventilating set in. I found the Baby on Board sign without too much trouble. It was hard to miss since there was an entire isle designated for "baby safety," complete with mirrors that Mom or Dad can hang up all over the car so that they can always see when the baby barfs on the bib that says, "That's it, I'm calling Grandma!"

I perused a few of the isles to see what other crap new parents "needed" for their infants when I got to the Personal Care isle. This isle mostly housed bath tubs, which I will say is somewhat of a need, especially when infants can't hold their heads up on their own yet for you to just plop them in the sink for their baths. Most of the tubs where made of plastic and they were in a variety of colors. Then I saw it. I stopped dead in my tracks and read the packaging a second time to make sure I understood what they were selling. When I realized it was true, my mouth fell open. It was a Baby Spa, complete with jets and a sprayer head and it cost over fifty dollars. I openly shook my head in disgust at it.

In case you want to purchase one of these, it is called Lil' Luxuries Whirlpool, Bubbling Spa & Shower, (what a classy name) and if I find out you have one, our friendship may be pending. I decided right then that I was done looking around and supporting this conglomerate, so I left. I felt like I needed to process what I just saw so I called my sister and when it went straight to voice mail, I told her was I saw as though I were actually talking to her and not a vast abyss that was recording my story. I felt a little better.

Do today's parents really need all these gadgets? My great grandmother was born in a log cabin. As I was staring at the Baby Spa, I was wondering what her mother would have to say about all this stuff. I am well aware that I don't have children of my own and while I completely detest the "you'll understand when you have kids" cliche (also known as the futuristic "I told you so") I still have a hard time believing that we will need all that junk.

Now, we could buy that Baby Spa, or we could invest that money and compounded over the years, be able to send our kids to college. Sorry kids, your dad and I thought you needed a luxurious bath when you were so young you couldn't remember the soothing nature of the jets, so now we can't send you to college. Good luck at your Starbucks interview! Although if we forgo the car seats and go with the duct tape, maybe our kids can have their cake and eat it too. It's definitely something to look into.

Baby Fever

Why is it that when you are married, people assume that once you take off your wedding dress, the immediate process of procreation should begin? I mean, I think you should at least be allotted time to return the tux and maybe make it to the airport for your honeymoon. I had a lot of people ask me about our non-existent baby right after we were married. Usually I don't mind because sometimes I think it's fun to think about, as long as it doesn't become excessive. Then there are other times when I find it a bit annoying . . . like after a baby shower. Ten bucks says someone will come up to me and say, "Sooooooo, when are you going to have one?" Trust me, you don't want to take that bet. You will lose because it happens every time. I actually had a person I work with ask - and I quote - "Pam, when are you going to get knocked up?" First of all, gross. Who says that? Secondly, it's none of your beeswax so get back to work.

Now, I have been to the Robert Brown Center, so I know all about the birds and the bees and that the stork doesn't actually deliver babies. Plus, as an added bonus, I got "the sex talk" from my mom the night before my class went. For those of you who are not from the Chicago-land area, the Robert Crown Center is a life-scarring event for fifth graders. It was (at least at the time) a field trip that every fifth grade student took to learn about all that stuff that made a ten-year-old want to shrink in his Nirvana concert tee, and just when you think you can't take anymore . . . they show you the birthing video. I was convinced for a good ten years that I would just adopt - that is the kind of effect the Robert Crown Center has on you.

That being said, sometimes I think you can "catch" pregnancy like the H1N1. Every time a friend shares with me that she is pregnant, three other women come out of the woodwork and share the same news. About two years ago, I personally knew five pregnant women, three of which were really close friends of mine. Then there was a lull. Apparently, the epidemic was on a down hill slope, until the snow melted and low and behold, the fever was running rapid again. We have two friends who just delivered babies within the past two weeks. Two friends from church are due this fall. Two woman I work with are also "with child." I think the Robert Crown Center forgot to mention that conception may be an airborne virus. I am seriously thinking about wearing a Sars mask in public. I already don't drink the water at work . . . it's too risky.

This kind of attitude has people like my sister and my mother-in-law fearful that Troy and I will never have kids, but some day we too will catch the virus. I know that parenting is rewarding, so before all the moms wag their fingers at me, know that the reason we are putting this off is because of how hard you work - well that and the few families that we know whom have children that make my uterus shrivel up . . . which reminds me, I need to go buy those medical masks . . .