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.

Just Wait . . .

This may be a little personal here, but since we're all friends, I'll tell you that I just came out of the bathroom. I was taking care of business when I saw a hole in the top layer of the toilet paper. Earlier in the day, I needed to "take care of business" and doing so while Zachary is awake is rather tricky. He crawls at rapid speeds now and has also developed a new fascination with toilet paper. He loves to pull on it so it unrolls all over the floor, and he loves to pick pieces off and . . . eat them. I know, it's so gross, but this kid puts everything in his mouth and most of the time he is too fast for me, which means that I have to go "fishing" in his mouth. I have found all sorts of non-eatable things; dirt clumps, small wood chips, grass, paper, dried up cheese from his last meal which he threw on the ground and somehow Bruce missed, etc. 

Discovering the kitchen cabinets

This kid is definitely all boy. His new favorite game is climbing up on his chair in his room and then flinging himself off so that I will catch him. He doesn't really understand that I need to be aware that we are playing this game. I have - thankfully - caught him each time, but sometimes it is with more fragile body parts . . . like my nose. Ouch! I may or may not have cried after his big head nailed me in the schnoz . . . okay, I did cry and do you know how hard it is to cry and still sympathetically tell your son that Mommy is okay? He didn't know what to think!

It is amazing how quickly these little babies grow in their first year. A few months ago, Zachary was content just sitting up and a few months before that he was just rolling over and a few months before that he didn't move at all! (I should have reveled in "taking care of business" without an audience then.) I have loved each stage of Zachary's development because it is revealing more of his personality. I love watching him internalize everything because he gets that from Troy and I love watching him adjust objects with precision because he gets that from me. 

That being said, this afternoon, when I saw that hole in the toilet paper, in my head I could hear mothers who have gone before me say "Just wait until he starts moving, he will get into EVERYTHING!" Are they right, well yes, but honestly, I don't hear that voice with cheerfulness. These are the mothers who are trying to devalue the difficultly of the developmental stage of your child. Clearly, they have a more strenuous stage, ergo they are the better mother. What bologna! (By the way, did you just read that the way it is spelled? I always do!) Even if you're not a mom, you have heard these people too. Your voice may sound like, "Just wait until you get married...." or "Just wait until you buy a house..." or "Just wait until you get in the 'real world'..." These are people who see you enjoying your life and want to rain on your parade. These people are . . . butt-heads. Yes, I just said "butt-heads" mostly because it is true and also I dare you to read that word without smiling.

As I was looking at that hole in the toilet paper, I decided to hush up that gross, condescending, voice and focus instead on the cute, chubby little fingers that tore that hole and those fantastic cheeks that accompanies the smile of the face that sees the door to the bathroom is open so that he can wreck havoc on the roll of toilet paper. I don't care what those moms say. I can wait until the next stage because I am so much enjoying the current stage. When Zachary moves onto the next stage, I will love that too. So essentially, I guess I am taking their advice. I will "just wait."

Badges and Gold Stars

Remember when we were kids, how we were surrounded by positive reinforcement? I remember having sticker charts everywhere I turned. We had one at home for chores - when I cleaned my room, I got to put a sticker up on our chart we had hanging in the laundry room. We had one at school - when I read a certain number of books, I got to put a sticker up on the chart in our classroom. We had one at church - when I recited my Bible verse for the week, I got to put a sticker next to my name. It was great. All those charts led to a bigger reward, albeit a small allowance, a paperback book or a piece of candy, but really - I just loved the sticker. If that would have been the whole reward, I would have been just as happy. I especially loved it when I got to choose the sticker. The smilie faces were fun; I always liked the "girl" looking faces with big lips and eye lashes. Sometimes there were stickers with different phrases which were nice because they were bigger; but my favorite stickers were the metallic stars. They came on a sheet with four different colors, red, silver, blue and gold. I always chose silver or gold first, then the red and lastly the blue. The blue ones didn't seem as shiny. Of course my OCD would kick in, even as a kid and it would drive me crazy if I had 5 gold stars, one blue and then 3 more gold stars. I thought about asking if I could peel off the blue sticker and replace it with a gold one, but even as a child, I knew this was weird.

As a grown up, I have often wished that sticker charts continued to follow us as we navigate through our day. How many times have you been bogged down with a ton of assignments in college or at work and actually got them all done? Wouldn't have been great for your professor or your boss to tell you to go to choose a sticker from the sticker bucket and stick it next to your name? How satisfying would that be? I am telling you, it would definitely boost employee moral.How about those times when you get all those little chores that you have been putting off finally complete. Like you actually get the old magazines out to recycling, or organize that closet you have been putting off. Where is the reward for that? Nobody even notices your work!

Me and Z when he was only 1 week old.

Never have I wanted a sticker chart more than when I became a mom. The plan was always for me to go back to work after Zachary was born. Troy knew better, but being a the smart and sensitive hubby that he is, he let me continue to live in this fantasy world while I was pregnant and ranting on and on about how I was a "career woman" and I didn't go get my masters to just "sit at home". Oh. My. Goodness. Pre-pregnant Pam and Post-Pregnant Pam were two very different people. I learned how wrong I was because after Zachary was born, I have never experienced that kind of emotional and physical exhaustion in my life. You hear people say all that time that being a parent is the hardest job in the whole world, and it's true except you don't get paid and you never clock out, so the term "job" doesn't really do it justice. It's more like a life sentence - but in a good way - well, sometimes.

The first two months of parenting were brutal, but then we got into a routine and I fell in love with my new role. I realized that my maternity leave was rapidly coming to an end and I started to have little panic attacks about going back to work which would usually end in tears. Zachary would always look up at me and give me a look like "Mom, why does your face look all scrunchy and why are your eyes all wet?" I decided that I needed to figure out a way to stay home to care for our son so I connected with a family who needed part-time day care for their son who is three weeks older than Zachary. I will admit, this is the hardest "job" I have ever had. I basically have twins for two and a half days. I desperately want to give each boy one-on-one attention but I can't always. It seems like every time I am feeding one of them, the other has a hissy fit. One will spit up and just when I finish cleaning it up, the other one decides to spit up too. On the days where I have both boys, most of the day, I am busier than a one-armed wall paper hanger. (That is one of my dad's favorite clichés.) But even when I get overwhelmed, I can always look over and see my sweet Zachary and I think to myself, 'I could be at a job right now where I don't get to see him at all,' and somehow the good Lord gives me a little boost and we make it out just fine. Most of these days, I wish I had a sticker chart. I would give myself a shiny gold (or silver) star for a lot of the accomplishments of the day.

Bath Time! I love it when Z shows off his lips!

Even on days when it is just me and Zachary, it is still a lot of work. I want to be present during his awake times so I am on the floor playing and cooing with him. While he is napping I need to get the endless laundry taken care of which has grown exponentially because we use cloth diapers. ( P.S. cloth diapers are awesome and I cannot sing enough praise about them. Plus, we are not dropping all the cash on disposables!) I also need to do whatever cleaning I can squeeze in and try to feed myself (which sometimes doesn't happen) and attempt to get dinner ready. One day, I washed Zachary's laundry and diapers, hung the diapers to dry, made my homemade spaghetti sauce from scratch, baked brownies using a recipe I found on Pinterest, folded and put away Z's clean laundry and found time to be with Troy in the evening instead of going to bed early. Where was my gold sticker for that? I felt so accomplished getting all that done - in ONE day! (This is not an everyday occurrence, post baby but I am working on my juggling skills.)

A few Four Square Badges

This idea of having a grown up sticker chart isn't really all that strange. There are tons of apps on smart phones today where you get badges after accomplishing something. Troy and I were really into the Four Square app for a while and still check into places now and there are two reasons why we loved this app. First, we often get good deals when we use the app, like a free drink, a half price appetizer or something to that nature. Secondly, you get badges. There are badges for everything from going to so many coffee houses to being out late on a school night. We try to collect as many as we can. Why? Because when you check into a place and unlock a new badge, it feels like you're in elementary school again. You get to put a sticker next to your name that announces to everyone, I WAS AWESOME! 

Some day I will have a sticker chart hanging in my home with Zachary and company's names written down the margin. They will earn stickers for responsibilities Troy and I expect them to do to be an active part of our family. Don't be surprised if you see my name at the bottom of the chart with gold stars next to my chores. And yes, if we run out and I have to use the blue stars, my OCD is still going to flare up, but at least I will have still earned my star and got to put a sticker next to my name again.