Rough Night

What exactly makes a baby a bad baby? I get asked all the time, "Is she a good baby?" I never quite know how to answer that. Well, how would you describe a good baby? Quiet? Sleeps well? Good eater? Okay, my little one is really none of those things. Does that make her bad? I can't imagine we'd ever tell a 3 year old she had a bad personality because she wasn't quiet and compliant. In fact, those skills don't necessarily benefit a person as they get older.

Last night was a rough night. It was probably what some would describe as "bad baby" behavior. Not that she could really help it I suppose. Wouldn't fall asleep until around midnight and that was only in bed with me. Slept a few hours in her co-sleeper after I ever so gently slid her from under my arm into her bed. Woke up to eat again at 5:30 and half an hour later she'd pooped all over my bed. I suppose those are the dangers of co-sleeping. Besides suffocation of course. Although I'd say the chances of turning over into a pile of spit-up or a wet poopy spot are much higher than suffocation.

I tend to always look for a "reason" for the behavior. I figure if there's a reason then I can fix it. I admit to certain ridiculous thinking along these lines. Last night (and actually it was at 6 am this morning but since I was planning to sleep a few more hours, I'm calling it night), I was thinking, "You just pooped all over yourself to make sure I had to get up and change your diaper, didn't you?" See I've pretty much stopped changing her diaper at night. She rarely poops and frankly I'm too exhausted to get up and I'd rather try and keep her as asleep as possible. Her changing table makes her giddy for some reason. She goes from fast asleep to laughing in seconds. But of course she's started to get a little diaper rash (I thought we had that all taken care of!!). So I'm thinking, what kind of mother lets her baby stew in urine all night and gives her a diaper rash? So certainly, she must have had a blow-out to insist that I get up and change her. She's quite clever like that.

God our Father

Last night I woke up from a dream where Matt ran into our room in the middle of the night to tell me to grab the baby and hide because there was a bad person in the house. I remember thinking I'd do anything to protect her, even give my life.

Moments later she's in my arms and refusing to sleep. I was reminded of a book I'm reading called, "Operating Instructions: A Journal of My Son's First Year," by Anne Lamott. She writes about the strange feeling of loving her son so incredibly deeply and yet wanting to throw him down the stairs at times.

In my extreme exhaustion I'm understanding her feeling. While I just woke up from a dream where I realized I'd give my life for her, at this moment the thought of dropping her down some stairs sounds intriguing. Okay, maybe just wrapping her nicely in a basket and leaving her at the neighbors doorstep like poor little Alvin, Simon and Theodore.

I wonder if God feels like this about us. He obviously loved us enough to give his life for us. But perhaps he also wants to throw us down some stairs at times. And I've only got one little screaming child. God has an entire earth filled with screaming children. I used to think the Psalm that talks about God never sleeping because he's always watching over us was a beautiful picture of God's love and protection. Now I'm thinking maybe this whole never slumbering thing is not for lack of trying.

Insanity Plea

If I ever committed murder I could easily call for an insanity plea. It's completely ludicrous, the things I do and think are necessary to achieve just a few hours of sleep or peace and quiet. One night my dear child falls asleep quickly and stays asleep for four hours so I have to retrace my steps to figure out what miracle cure I have found.

Okay, so Tuesday night I drank three sips of cherry coke and ate half a chocolate chip cookie while daddy held her. Then I nursed for fifteen minutes and quickly changed her diaper. Daddy rocked her in the chair for half an hour and then laid her in her co-sleeper with the fan on and the small lamp lighting the room. Five hours later she wakes up for her first middle of the night feeding. Sweet! Well, then Wednesday night I must do the exact same thing because obviously I have found the key. Lather, rinse, repeat, lather, rinse, repeat, lather, rinse, repeat...as needed.

My new thinking is that daddy has to rock her or she won't stay asleep. Which sucks since daddy is playing poker tonight. Shit. I'm going to be up all night with a screaming baby. So I'm sitting in my rocking chair after nursing and changing her diaper. Matt says I'm not relaxed enough and since she's screaming at the top of her lungs, I'm thinking, "Sure...relax." So I let me body go limp (while trying to still hold her...right). Uh yeah, this doesn't help. Ah, perhaps it is the perfect balance of relaxed and stiff that I'm looking for. Stiffen, relax, stiffen, relax. And so it goes.

This ridiculous line of thinking goes on in my head for a while when I suddenly realize, she's quiet and her eyes are barely open. And just a few minutes later, she's asleep in her co-sleeper and I'm sitting here typing when I should be getting ready for bed.

The Unique Nature of Motherhood

I was really not interested in being a mom for a very long time. In fact, it wasn't until about a year ago that I changed my mind and here I am a year later with a 1 month old. Part of my problem with the whole "mom" thing was that I was afraid of losing who I am and becoming this new person called, "mom." While I was pregnant I kept asking myself and my husband if I would change when the baby was born. I wondered if I would see the world differently. I wondered if I'd suddenly morph into this new person that was just like every other mom out there. I wondered if I suddenly be doing all the things that used to drive me crazy about parents.

Since she's been born I've read other "mom" blogs and I've found something interesting that for a split second concerned me and then quickly thrilled me. I am not a different person. I am still me. I still think the same way. I still care about the same things. I love my child more then I ever knew was even possible. I cry a little more when I watch shows about kids. But really I'm still me. Yeah, I share some similar experiences with other moms, but just because our experiences are similar, doesn't mean I feel the same about them as every other mom.

I've been bothered by this idea that because I'm a mom I suddenly think the same as every other mom around, as if I should agree with everything they think and smile and nod ferociously as if I was once blind but now see with such clarity all the things they've been telling me. Well, I'm sorry, but I don't. And I know without a doubt that I am a wonderful mother.

I'm still annoyed by people who use their kids as an excuse for everything. I do everything in my power to get to places on time, even with a newborn. And when I don't, it's not her fault, it's mine for not planning better. We do, however, get to most places on time.

I have more energy and motivation to clean my house then I ever did before. In fact, the whole "supermom" thing excites me and inspires me rather then drains and frustrates me. Being able to take care of a baby while keeping my house in tact is awesome. And I do. I have a baby who wants to be held 24/7 but I hold her AND take care my house. I don't do it out of some sick sense of obligation that I will later resent. I do it because it's just awesome to be a supermom.

I get up and take a shower, do my hair and makeup and eat breakfast pretty much every day. In my opinion, a happy healthy mom makes for a happy healthy baby. And I just feel better about myself and my life when I look nice. A ponytail and no make up makes me feel tired and sluggish. I do have those days too, of course, but they are not daily and I do not blame my child when they happen. I blame the fact that I'm feeling lazy and want a sleepy day.

I still care about being a teacher. I love the time I spend with my baby. I'm enjoying have some time away from work to get to know her and establish a secure connection with her. But I want to go back from work. It's important to me. It excites me when I think about having my own classroom again. It's something I'm passionate about and that didn't change when I had a baby.

I am not a stressed-out first time mom. I choose not to be. Moms always talk to me with this, "Don't worry, you'll be more relaxed with your second baby" tone and I just want to shout from the roof tops, "I'm happy, I'm relaxed, this is totally natural!!" I don't freak out about the little things. I'm confident in my ability to make wise choices about how to parent my child. I trust my instincts. And when I don't know what to do, I remind myself that this is just a season. I have a few moments here and there where the hours and hours of screaming get to me. I cry or pout or take my crankiness out on my husband. But I'm okay with all of that too because it is what it is and it won't last forever.

So there ya go. There isn't some "mom" mold that you have to fit into when you have your first child. Yeah, you'll probably experience some similar things as me and other moms. Most of them involve poop and sleeplessness. But you can be who you want to be, feel how you want to feel, respond to this new life experience however you want to respond to it. Just like every pregnancy is unique, every experience of motherhood is unique because you, the mom, are unique. And that's a good thing because your baby was made just for you.