The stuff no one tells you about # 140128

Trying to get my daughter to go to sleep and on the fifth round of nursing I lifted her to my shoulder to burp her. She is learning how to 'kiss', so when she leaned in to my face mouth open I relished the idea of her wet kiss. But then she grabbed my face with both hands,  and with expert precision,  inserted my nose into her mouth.... and burped.

You haven't lived until...toes

There are many delightful surprises in motherhood.  I expected joy,  but the all encompassing blissfulness that fills every atom of my being is so wonderfully,  well, surprising that I could not possibly anticipate just how happy happy can be.
There are definitely sad moments,  moments that have reduced me to tears. Like when my baby is crying and I have tried everything I can think of to soothe her and the only thing that seems to work is crying with her. And there are moments when I hear a story of a sick or hurt child and I experience joy, gratitude,  sorrow, empathy,  fear and sometimes wrath all at the same time,  which is really confusing the first time it happens. 
There is unmistakable beauty in parenthood,  in motherhood. 
There are an abundance of breathtaking moments, and just as many fill me with love.
Then there are the unabashedly fun moments.  Moments where my own youth is restored and I can't imagine life without giggles and smiles and nursing and burping and rolling over and discovering what a body can do! All the amazing things our hands and fingers and feet and legs and arms can do! All these beautiful things.
I don't even mind diaper changes, and I cloth diaper. (We won't discuss the irony or idiocy of a self proclaimed hack of a housekeeper adding more laundry to the never shrinking pile. I will just say I wash diapers every other day, the hubs can wear the same pair of work pants two days in a row,  no one will notice. ) There is even joy in changing a diaper. It was on the changing station my daughter first discovered her toes and first figured out that they reach and fit into her mouth.
And it is where I kiss those toes. And sometimes,  they find themselves in my mouth. Like today. We were both in a fit of giggles when I put her toes in my mouth. And it was glorious,  until, I ended up with baby toe jam on my tongue. I have been vomited on, pooped on, and peed on. I have been the meal du jour, the teething ring, the toy and the cradle. And that was before motherhood.
But I realize now, I hadn't truly lived until I had baby toe jam on my tongue.

It's not me.

I have long admitted to being a horrible housewife.  I can ignore the dust that is so thick my black bookshelves look grey. I can ignore the cobwebs that gracefully link one wall to the next. I can ignore the gobs of dust on the fan blades that look like little caterpillars from my short vantage point. And I can ignore the basket of clothes at the foot of the bed that have sat there so long I will have forgotten I owned those articles of clothing.  The only part of my house I can't ignore is the kitchen,  because that's where I bathe the baby.
But for all my ignoring of one chore or another, it's really not my fault the condo is as bad as it is. You see, my husband,  despite all his wonderful qualities, is also a slob.
How can I be expected to pick up after my overgrown teenager of a husband and then CLEAN MORE? Seriously,  I deserve a parade and a medal for what I do manage to accomplish daily given that my husband has no care or thought of what he does. When he puts AN EMPTY juice bottle in the Bathroom linen cabinet, instead of in the recycling bags in the kitchen,  how can I possibly keep our home neat and clean.  He undermines my efforts so effortlessly.  I can't freaking win.

To nap or not to nap. That is the question.

Ah, yes. Nap time.  It arrives everyday,  about the same time.  Sometimes it's easy going. Sometimes you'd think I was dragging the baby in to be splinched from her shadow animal.  But either way,  when the angel goes down,  I am faced with the question,  should I nap too? I have more than my fair share of chores to get accomplished,  I am also trying to organize the launch of my own business.  So there is plenty of important work to be done. 
But she looks so comfy and inviting,  lying there in my bed, breathing her gentle snore. If I lay down it will clear my head and recharge me. I can stay awake and trudge through,  but tired as I am I may make a dire mistake.  Besides, they say to sleep when the baby sleeps, right?

Why not for me?

My beautiful 5 month old daughter is the apple of my eye. The sunshine in my day, the moonlight of my night. But she will not nap for me. EVER. Day after day we dance the pas de deux consisting of nursing, burping, diaper changing, putting down, picking up, kick ball change, and repeat. It is a paso doble in which I can not tell which of us is the stubborn bull. In the end, I surrender as often as I triumph, still learning her cues.
But today, she slept. It was rather easy. I nursed her, the husband changed her wet diaper, I nursed her some more until she fell asleep. Then the husband fell asleep. I left them cuddled on the bed (yes I know, dangerous for a myriad of reasons, including bad habits) to get done at least one nagging chore - take down the Christmas Tree when it was still a tasteful amount of time to have it up, as history has shown that sucker can still be up come Valentine's Day. So I took down the tree, forgave myself for not vacuuming yet so as not to wake the duo, and somehow tetris'ed the decorations back into the storage containers. Then sat here. Watching the clock.
TWO HOURS! TWO WHOLE HOURS!!! They slept - SHE slept - my little twinkle star slept for two hours. I guess the secret is to sleep with her, as she has slept for two hours in the past if I napped with her. So, I guess I must surrender to napping. One more excuse for having dust on my shelves, dishes in my sink and dog hair - everywhere. She needs to sleep, and apparently, she needs us to do it. So, I am going to err on the side of excellent mothering, even if it perpetuates my subpar housewifery. I was never very good at the cleaning bit anyway.

2014, but let's remember the best of 2013

So, it is New Year's Day. As I type this, my kitchen is cleaned. A new skill I learned because the baby is bathed in the sink, and you never know when a blow out diaper is going to require a quick bath to remedy the mess. But, as usual, the rest of my home is a disaster that inspires my mother to down some tylenol and begin cleaning like our lives depend upon it. And, as usual, rather that use the last of my energy cleaning, I have decided to do something I WANT to do, rather than something I SHOULD do. I did lots of 'should' things today, including folding three loads of laundry and putting them away, cooking and cleaning the kitchen, and, well, that's it. For those who know me well, you know these were huge accomplishments and demonstrative of enormous personal growth. So, I am making good on my promise to myself and I am trying to blog more regularly than the once or twice a year that I have previously done.
Being New Year's Day, I would like to reflect on the past year. It was a tough year. My bathroom and basement were flooded by a neighbor's handyman. My beloved dog became very sick and made a rapid decline into death, that devastated me. My second beloved dog, Brutus, has become more and more ill himself. I went through a ridiculous battle with my condo association because they do not know how to properly interpret our bylaws and choose to change the rules on a whim. Through all this I was pregnant. Very, Very pregnant. Mine was a difficult pregnancy in some ways and pure joy in others. But I will touch on that another time. Then, there was her birth, which was - weird. Wonderful! but weird. Then, I lost my grandfather. The man for whom I am named. Which has still not quite sunk in. I miss him very much. I remember him fondly.
It is the first day of a new year. A day full of memories and a day full of promise. A new year. A new start. My resolutions: to continue to improve my health for me, for my husband, for my daughter; to be the best mother I can possibly be; to be the best wife possible; to be more 'housewifey' and clean more; to write more often; to pursue, with the hunger for it that I once possessed, my career, including launching my businesses. There. My resolutions for the world, or my three followers, to see.
2013 was a really hard year. In the middle of many tragedies was nestled the birth of my daughter. The most beautiful and miraculous gift of my life. And it is that promise, the promise of her that I will focus on as I start this new year. She is my everything. She is my miracle. She is my breath and my inspiration for hope. My inspiration to make 2014 a great year.
Happy New Year to all! May we all enjoy a beautiful year, a year full of prosperity, success, love and hope.