Tag Archives: baby

The Old Me

15 Jan

Bob Porter: “Looks like you’ve been missing a lot of work lately.”

Peter Gibbons: “I wouldn’t say I’ve been missing it, Bob.”  

– Office Space 

A few months before Lucy was born, at the prodding of my law firm’s marketing director, I joined a formal networking group.  It meets in Westwood the third Tuesday of every month at 7:30 a.m., and is comprised of lawyers, CPAs, real estate agents, insurance brokers…basically anyone who provides a service.  The point of the group is to build relationships with the other members for the purpose of eventually referring business.

When I was first approached by my marketing director, I was reluctant, to say the least, to check this group out.  It’s part of a larger networking organization of which many partners in my firm are members, and it just seemed overly formal, overly blatant about getting business referrals, and just generally not my cup of tea.  (I love people, but I hate when it feels like schmoozing.)  So for many months, through the spring and summer, I put off attending a meeting.

Finally, in late summer, I sucked it up and drove out to Westwood in the early morning.  I was happily surprised that not only does the group include other young people and several other women, but everyone was extremely warm and welcoming.  Then I faced a quandary — did it make sense to join a group knowing that in a few months I’d be having Lucy and begin a 6-month maternity leave?  But I figured (not knowing whether this was overly optimistic) that this would be a good way to retain some small connection to the working world during my leave.

Understandably, I missed the November and December meetings.  The November meeting was just three days after Lucy was born, and even by the December meeting (at about the 1-month mark) I just wasn’t in the frame of mind to be donning business attire and leaving the house in the morning.  I wasn’t sure I was going to attend this month’s meeting either, but when I received an email from the group leader that attendance at this particular meeting was “strongly encouraged,” I decided to bite the bullet.  I arranged for my mom to come over at 8 am to be with Lucy when Hubs went to work.

Then this morning, I almost bailed.  Last night was not the easiest with the little bean, and I woke up exhausted.  I had planned to hop in the shower no later than 5:45, but I ended up feeding Lucy at 5:30 (Hubs had handled the 2:30 a.m. feeding and I didn’t want to break his deep sleep), so I ran out of time.  The best I could do was comb my hair into a bun, and I looked and felt like a disaster.  Still, I put on a black pantsuit (yay for being able to button the jacket again!), some black heels that I haven’t worn in months, and hit the road.  On the way I thought to myself, “It’s not too late to go home and try to get some more sleep…”

But as it turns out, going to this meeting was the best thing I could have done for myself today.  I wouldn’t have expected this since I don’t even know the people in the group that well, but today I felt more like “myself” than I have since Lucy was born.  I have become so hyper-focused on Lucy and on mamahood that I really needed that reminder that I have a career and a life outside of Lucy, too.  I studied and worked hard to become a lawyer and I get satisfaction from it.  So while there are certain things about my job I don’t love (billable hours…) there are things I do love (the intellectual challenge, the camaraderie, the problem solving).

Before Lucy I always thought I would want to continue working outside the home, even if I had a choice not to.  Then Lucy came along and I fell so in love with her that I thought maybe I would really want to be a SAHM if I could.  But now I’m realizing my first instinct was right.  I love Lucy, and I love being a mom, but I’m not cut out for staying at home full-time.  Along with my feeling of relaxation, I’ve also been feeling a bit like my brain is turning to mush, and today helped!  Of course, attending one morning meeting is quite different than a full-time job, and I know I will have a tough adjustment once I do return to work.  But it is nice to have a way to gradually ease back into that world before I have to jump back into all the deadlines and stresses that go along with it.

When I came home, I shared my thoughts with my mom, who agreed that it’s important for me to maintain my career.  Always wise, she said the following:

“It may be very hard to think about, but although Lucy is the most important person in your life, you won’t be the most important person in her life.  And that’s how it should be.”

I apparently taught my mom that lesson early on.  At the tender age of 8, as she loves to recount, I wrote her a Mother’s Day card with the sentimental note, “Just think — only 10 more years.”  In other words, I was envisioning my departure from the house before I had even left elementary school!  It’s so hard to imagine when she is just a baby, but Lucy may very well be the same way, and I need to be able to laugh about it.  I think that will be much easier to do if I hold on, to some degree, to the “old me.”

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Invasion of the Body-Snatchers

14 Jan

Note:  I started writing this a few days ago but was interrupted, and then I didn’t want to work on it over my birthday weekend because it’s not the most uplifting topic.  But here goes.

Most of the time I am very relieved and happy not to be pregnant anymore.  Mainly, of course, now there is Lucy, and people were right when they told me I would soon not be able to recall life without her.  And even though I had a healthy and relatively easy pregnancy as these things go, I was pretty darn uncomfortable toward the end — I became way too acquainted with sleeping on the couch propped up with an assortment of pillows.  I got tired of not being able to see my feet anymore and not being able to put on sneakers without much difficulty.  (At least I don’t live in a cold climate — my sister–in-law had to have my brother-in-law put on her snow boots for her!)  We had an unusually hot fall with 90 degree temps as late as October, so my desire to live in stretch pants and huge sweaters was not fulfilled until very late in the game.

On a superficial note, I was so, so sick of my maternity clothes.  My mom asked me what I was going to do with them, and I immediately replied, “Burn them.”  (Don’t worry, not only did I not burn them, but they are all still hanging in my closet — taking up precious real estate, I might add — because I haven’t had a chance to buy bins to organize and store them.)

But at the same time, I actually felt pretty cute during at least part of my pregnancy.  And even when I felt way too huge and uncomfy to be cute, people still told me that I was a cute pregnant person, which is always good for the spirits!  (People looooove a pregnant woman!  I miss that, too.)

Loving my cute tummy on the beach.

Loving my cute tummy on the beach.

I thought I was mentally prepared for new-mommyhood (or at least, prepared for not being prepared).  As it turns out, there are many things I wasn’t truly prepared for, but a big one was the way my body would change.  I knew it would take a while to get back to normal but I couldn’t bring myself to even imagine that my body might change permanently.  Beyond the effect on my lady parts, which I won’t get into, my figure seems to have done some real shape-shifting.  I guess I’m lucky in that I pretty much only gained weight in my tummy and hips (no double chins or cankles, thank goodness), so I dropped a significant amount of weight post-baby.  But now, I’ve reached a plateau and have come to the harsh realization that I won’t be able to get back to any semblance of “normal” — if at all — without some serious work on my part. As mentioned previously, I am not and have never been a workout girl or someone who watches what I eat, so this all feels pretty daunting.  I’ve also realized that before Lucy,  I think I went around sucking in my stomach 24-7.  During pregnancy I didn’t have to do that (yay!) and so now, I forget (and my stomach muscles forget how, even if I wanted to!).

So, I’m at a weird limbo with my clothes.  The dreaded maternity pants no longer fit, but neither do 99% of my old pants.  I’ve started ordering new jeans in the next size up.  I can’t decide if it’s better to accept that my body’s changed and buy all new clothes now, or to keep the old jeans in my drawer as a carrot to entice me to try to get back to my old shape.  I don’t want to give up, but I also know that I need to learn to love my body the way it is.  I try to look at myself in the mirror — imperfections and all — and tell myself that my body is miraculous. After all, I grew and gave birth to an amazing little person!  And most of all, I don’t want Lucy to ever grow up hearing me complain about my body because I don’t want her to internalize those same insecurities.  But I must admit it’s hard to accept a “normal” post-baby body when I see women (ranging from celebs to my own friends and co-workers) who seem to be able to return their bodies to its former status.

I know I’m not alone in these feelings.  But here is an awesome article that I try to think about when I’m feeling blue about my body.  It made me tear up when I was pregnant, and even more now!

No matter what, I am trying to remember to stay in the picture.

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Out and About

13 Jan
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This isn’t my house…

Today was our first time ever taking Lucy out, other than walks around the neighborhood or trips to the pediatrician’s office.  Our friend T. had us, and our friend O. and her family, over for brunch for her to-die-for waffles, along with eggs, sausage and bacon (actually, turkey sausage and turkey bacon, which was surprisingly good and bacon-y).  This totally hit the spot — as I mentioned previously I lurrrve breakfast foods and adore going out to brunch but I haven’t done so since pre-Lucy.

T. has a daughter who will be 2 in March, and O. has a 4-year-old son and a son who will be 2 in April, and a baby girl on the way!  T. and O. exclaimed over how tiny Lucy is, and Hubs and I had fun watching the other kids play and thinking about what it will be like when Lucy is able to run around with them.

T. also made her killer red velvet cake and I got to blow out my candle.

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Because 33 candles is a fire hazard.

Hubs and I were admittedly nervous about our first excursion with Lucy, but this was a good way to get our feet wet (baby steps, so to speak).  Soon enough we will be out and about with her all the time, so we need to get used to it!  Among other things, I start Mommy & Me classes in three weeks, which I’m sure will be fodder for future posts.

Time to watch the Golden Globes.  Normally I don’t care, but who can resist Tina Fey and Amy Poehler as co-hosts?

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33 + 1 Day

12 Jan
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Happy birthday Mommy!

To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else.  -Emily Dickinson

I can already tell that I am going to have to make a serious effort if I want to accomplish my resolution to blog every single day!  Don’t get me wrong — I love to blog and I’m committed to it, but life definitely gets in the way.  It’s amazing how quickly a day flies by with Lucy.  Today we did some cleaning up around the house, Hubs took down the Christmas tree (if any fire marshals are reading this, don’t worry — it’s a faux tree from Target), we took a walk to do some errands, feeding and playing with Lucy in between, and boom, it’s 4:30 pm.  

My birthday evening ended up being exactly what the doctor ordered.  Perfectly low-key, but more fun and festive than the average evening.  Lucy was all dressed up in an adorable outfit that one of my friends gave her for Christmas (photo above) and was in a good mood, the food was delicious, the company was great, and as a special treat for myself, I decided to have my first glass of wine since I found out I was pregnant in March.  (I confess that I felt slightly buzzed after one small glass!  Can you say lightweight?)  Since I’m pumping milk to feed Lucy (yet another future blog topic — I swear I’m going to get to all these at some point, dear readers!) I’m not going to resume drinking except for special occasions, but it was nice to be able to enjoy it last night.

Normally I have misgivings about my birthday, but this year I feel for the most part very content with where I’m at.  Bring it on, 33!

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The Big 33

12 Jan
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My birthday 30 years ago!

Today I’d been thinking of doing sort of a birthday retrospective of notable birthday celebrations over the years.  But instead today ended up being a lovely day in its own right, without the need to  reflect at length on years past.  I did some online clothes shopping (including a fun new dress, yay!) while Lucy napped, then my parents came over with lunch and we enjoyed some time with Lucy and took a neighborhood walk.  (Day 2 of resolutions, check!)  Now Lucy is (theoretically) napping again and I’m doing a quick bloggity blog before Hubs gets home.

After debating what to do for my birthday evening, I ended up deciding on a halfway position — staying in with Hubs and Lucy, but also having a few girlfriends over and ordering from Pizzeria Mozza (for any non-Angelenos, a fancy and super yummy pizza joint).  Then tomorrow my parents are coming over to dinner to celebrate my birthday and my mom’s birthday (which is on the 17th and therefore has basically been upstaged the past 33 years.  Sorry Mom!)  On Sunday morning I’m having breakfast with a couple of my law school girlfriends and their families and my friend T. and her husband are making her to-die-for waffles.  Then on Sunday afternoon, while Hubs goes to the movies and my parents watch Lucy, I’m getting a massage at a place around the corner that I’ve been dying to try.  All in all, I am spending my birthday weekend in the ideal way and I am happy as a clam!

Tomorrow, dear readers, back to my normal blogging self…but today this birthday girl is going to indulge in a nap of her own!

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Is One the Loneliest Number?

9 Jan

When you get engaged, from the moment you have the ring on your finger everyone wants to know all the details, from the date and venue to the dress and cake flavor.  Once you get married, everyone wants to know when you’re going to have kids.  (During the Sunday brunch the morning after my wedding, my mom was holding one of my high school friends’ babies and remarked, “Don’t you want one of these?”  Seriously Mom, we had been married less than 20 hours!)  And inevitably, once you have one child and think that the masses will be appeased, not so fast!  Everyone wants to know whether — and when — you’ll be having your next one.

Hubs and I agreed that we would table even having that conversation until Lucy is older.  (No Irish twins for us, thankyouverymuch.)  We haven’t decided whether or not to have a second child, but two kids seems to be Hubs’ max.  Still, it’s hard not to ponder the concept and wonder whether Lucy will stay an only child or whether we will someday give her a little brother or sister.

I’m an only child, whereas Hubs is the oldest of three.  I had a good childhood as an only child (more on that in a minute), so I’ve never felt like I must have more than one kid.  I think people with siblings (assuming they get along) tend to think having siblings is important enough to persuade them to have more than one child.  (My parents had siblings, but those stories could fill an entire blog so I’ll leave it at that.)  Before Lucy, whenever I heard people say “I just really want to have another child for my first child,” I frankly thought that was kind of silly.  Wouldn’t a second child actually detract from the attention, time and resources that can be afforded the first child?

Now, however, I’m revisiting my opinion.  I was discussing this with friends the other day and we agreed that we love the idea of having a large clan of kids (though the reality may be another story.)  I admit that part of this desire comes from watching the show Parenthood.  I seriously adored that show before I had Lucy and now I adore it even more.  Watching the big, crazy. flawed but loving Braverman family makes me wish that I could have a big ol’ clan like that of my own.  Part of it is that, since I’m an only child, we now have my parents in town (which is awesome for so many reasons) but we don’t have any cousins on the West Coast for Lucy.  Hubs’ brother has two kids, a 5-year-old girl and almost-3-year-old boy, but they live back East.  We’re trying to arrange for the cousins to meet in the next couple of months, and I know we will try to have them see each other once or twice a year, but that’s hardly the same as regular family get-togethers.  My friend T. commented that she wishes her young daughter weren’t always just surrounded by adults, and I have the same feeling.  I have friends who are like family and I hope that Lucy and their kids will end up feeling like family too….but it would never be quite the same as flesh-and-blood relatives.  And while I didn’t mind being an only child when I was younger, I admit that I started wishing I had siblings as I got older.  Being an only child is not always lonely, but it can be.  But of course, having siblings is not guaranteed to prevent loneliness, either.  As with most parenting decisions, this is one of those head-scratchers with respect to what is really best for Lucy, Hubs and me.

Regardless of whether we have more kids or not, I’ve been thinking a lot about how important it is for us to create traditions within our family for Lucy to look forward to.  A year or two ago, a woman I know whose daughter is an only child picked my brain about what my experience was like as an only child.  I told her without hesitation, “Create traditions.”  For example, for Easter my parents would create a treasure hunt of clues leading up to an Easter basket at the end of the search.  (I may need my parents’ expert help with clues if we do this for Lucy!)  For Christmas Eve, we would go out for Chinese food with our best family friends whose son was my age, and then go back to their house for dessert and gifts.  His parents became like an aunt and uncle to me.   (My mom sent me this interesting article about a woman whose family also had the Chinese food tradition…now I’m reading her memoir, which is fantastic.)  And on Christmas, “Santa” would save an extra-special gift for me until I was totally done opening gifts and had moved on with the  other activities of the day.  (One year my dad had me check the clothes in the dryer, but instead of laundry there was a gift.  I always knew it was coming but every year I would still think, “Maybe this is the year they’ll stop…”  I kid you not when I say they still did this until two years ago.)

For their part, Hubs’ family had the tradition (which they continue to this day) of going to Sea Isle City on the Jersey shore for 1-2 weeks each summer.  This tradition began over 40 years ago when Hubs’ parents and two other couples started going before they had kids.  Then Hubs was born, then his siblings and the other couples’ kids.  Now almost all of the “kids” have kids, and the whole clan still congregates there every summer and rents a big house together.  I went for the first time this past summer (Hubs hadn’t gone in 10 years because it’s not an easy trip from L.A.) and I have to say it was pretty amazing.  I got to meet the kids Hubs grew up with, and now all their kids are having the same experience.  I’ve already decided that I want us to start going regularly in a couple of years when Lucy is a bit older.  Maybe not every year, but enough that Lucy will grow up knowing her cousins and these other friends, and having something to look forward to every summer.

And maybe, if she ends up being our one and only, she will do what I did and her friends will become her second family.

To be continued…

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Freedom

6 Jan

At the same time that I’m experiencing my glorious (although temporary) freedom from the billable hour, I’m also experiencing the inevitable loss of certain freedoms that are part and parcel of parenthood.  Of course, everyone knows that becoming a parent is totally life-changing.  But there are also some changes in my own attitudes and feelings that seem completely obvious now, but that I didn’t think about before becoming a mama — like that I usually don’t want to do things without the baby even when I can.

Being on the older side (I’m turning 33 and Hubs turned the big 4-0 in November), it’s not like we were going out clubbing or barhopping before Lucy was born.  I got that out of my system long ago, thank God.  A lot of our friends have kids already, so our lives had already transitioned to include weekends spent attending 2-year-old birthday parties and quiet evenings at peoples’ houses.  But the one thing  we did still do a lot before the bambina arrived was go out to dinner.  In fact, when we first met with our financial advisor a year ago I was a bit startled to learn that dining was by far our largest non-fixed expense, and she even commented that going out to eat was our entertainment.  (Oy!  Cringe!  I’ve always been embarrassed that I don’t have any real hobbies…but that’s a topic for another post.)

Toward the end of my pregnancy everyone told us to get our date nights in while we still could.  I mostly just laughed and /or rolled my eyes.  When I was 9+ months pregnant, going out anywhere that I couldn’t just wear stretchy pants seemed like such a chore, and eating became less and less fun (goodbye wine and cheese, hello crazy heartburn!)  It was kind of like everyone telling me to get my sleep in while I could — easier said than done when the only way I could sleep was half-sitting up on the couch in a ridiculous nest of pillows.  (I have to remind myself of those pre-baby sleepless nights on my more sleepless nights with Lucy these days so I don’t get too nostalgic.  There really is such thing as hormone-induced amnesia about all unpleasant things related to pregnancy, labor and delivery…another future post topic!)  Plus, I figured, we would be able to start having regular date nights again after we were more settled in with Lucy.  My parents live practically spitting distance, and I figured they would be willing babysitters.

Now, I was actually 100% right about that — my parents are more than eager to watch Lucy anytime, to the point that their Christmas gifts to us included several restaurant gift cards and babysitting coupons!  And we have taken them up on it a couple of times — to go to Hubs’ office holiday party and to go to a small NYE party at a friend’s house.  But what I wasn’t expecting is that even though I know it’s important that we start doing date nights again at some point, and even though we could probably do so every week if we wanted to, right now I just don’t want to.  I really don’t like being away from Lucy — not because she’s not in great hands, because I truly have no worries with my parents, but because it just feels unnatural on some fundamental (biological?) level.  Not to be overly dramatic about it, but after 9 (really 10) months of carrying her inside me, being away from her for more than an hour or two to run errands feels a little bit like having a missing limb.  (I don’t think Hubs feels quite the same way, but I suspect that’s a typical difference between moms and dads.)  Also, I love our newly-grown little family unit — it isn’t just the two of us anymore, and it’s hard to go out and pretend that it is.  Even the whole process of getting dolled up and ready to go out didn’t feel fun anymore (but maybe that’s because I still can’t wear most of my pre-pregnancy clothes and those that I can require circulation-cutting Spanx!).

This isn’t to say that I don’t miss going out.  I almost can’t recall the last meal I was able to eat in a leisurely way instead of scarfing it down.  And this may sound weird but even more than eating dinner out, I miss brunch.  We can cook or order in some pretty great dinners, but I am sorely lacking in the decadent-breakfast category.  I can manage some scrambled or fried eggs, oatmeal or cold cereal — that’s about it.  I have always adored breakfast foods and I do admit I could really go for a fancy egg scramble, pancakes and waffles right about now.  When Lucy’s a bit older and has had her shots, I suppose we will start going out with her — but for now, I’m sticking to my good ol’ Honey Bunches of Oats.  I also do crave adult interaction on those days that Hubs is at work and I don’t have visitors, but still, my slight cabin-feverishness is tempered by my wish to be with Lucy.

One of the reasons I’ve been thinking so much about all of this is that my birthday is Friday and Hubs asked me what I want to do, and I’m torn.  If I wanted to go out to dinner, my parents have already volunteered to babysit.  But again, the largest part of me just wants to spend my birthday with my whole family — and that now includes Lucy.  So we’ll see.

Recently I’ve been corresponding via Facebook with one of my high school friends who I haven’t seen in years.  She posted that she was going on a last-minute, one-month solo trip to Southeast Asia over Christmas and New Year’s, so I asked her about the reason for the sudden trip.   I know she has a 2-year old son, so I was surprised that she would be away for the holidays.  It turns out that her experience basically mirrors Eat, Pray. Love (minus the advance book deal).  She got separated, got into another relationship, ended that relationship and then decided she needed a trip to clear her head.  I’ve since been reading her trip blog and looking at her photos and it seems like an absolutely amazing, once-in-a-lifetime experience.  But I keep wondering to myself how it’s been for her to be away from her son for so long — especially at Christmastime during what is probably the first Christmas he will understand and enjoy.  I can’t ask her this question, because I think even the question itself implies being a Judgy McJudgerson (“how could you do that??”) but that’s not even how I mean it.  (If anyone can think of a non-judgy way to ask that question I’d love to hear it!)  I know that she adores her son and is a good mom.  I’m just so curious about what it must feel like to be away from one’s child for a month, when I don’t even like being away from mine for an evening!  I’m sure my feelings on this will change somewhat as Lucy gets older and Hubs and I will resume our regular weekly date nights, but I’m also fairly certain that I will never choose to be away from her for that long.

Before I had Lucy, I was starting to feel like mamahood was this not-so-secret society of which I wasn’t yet a member — and now I understand why.  Before this tiny little person came into my life, there was truly no way to know how she would change me.  I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Why would I want to leave this face?

Why would I want to leave this face?

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525,600 Minutes

3 Jan

525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear. 525,600 minutes – how do you measure,
measure a year? In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee. In
inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife. In 525,600 minutes – how do you
measure a year in the life?

I’ve been singing to Lucy a lot — I’d better get it in now before she is old enough to realize that I can’t carry a tune and/or be generally embarrassed of me (“Mo-ommmm!”)  I’ve been wracking my brain to come up with things to sing her, and as it turns out I’ve been singing lots of show tunes.  (Although – and it pains my high school drama-nerd self to say this – after spending so many hours back in the day belting out these tunes, I have now forgotten some of the lyrics!  So I end up singing something along the lines of “In blah blah, in blah blah, in midnights in cups of coffee, in blah blah, in blah in laughter and strife…”  Again, I need to get on the ball with this before she’s older (and also by then stop singing her some of the more risque numbers like “La Vie Boheme.”)

But I digress.  The point of this post is about time and how I’m spending it in this glorious year, or rather half-year (262,300 minutes?  Yes I used a calculator for that — don’t judge) of being home with Lucy.  As a lawyer, the bane of my everyday work existence is the billable hour.  Spending 7 years breaking everything down into 6 or 15-minute increments leads to a perverse mentality where you can start thinking of your entire day that way.  (.75 hours, sat in traffic.  .25 hours, looked enviously at peoples’ exotic vacation photos on Facebook…etc.)  Yesterday (or rather today, at 3:30 a.m. when I was up feeding Lucy), I had the sudden realization that one of the reasons I’m so very happy and relaxed right now, despite the stresses / learning curve of having a newborn, is that since Lucy was born almost 7 weeks ago, I have not one single time measured my days by the billable hour.  (That also may be why each day passes incredibly quickly and on some days it’s 1 p.m. and I haven’t managed to actually get out of my pajamas…but maybe that’s just me.)

In spit-up, in feedings, in onesies, in dirty diapers…

Having a baby is life-changing in so many ways that I will write about, many of them wonderful (how can you love this little person who you’ve only known a short time SO MUCH) some of them startling (how can you worry so obsessively over this little person who you’ve only known a short time), and some of them a bit depressing (where did my body go??) but this one is solidly in the awesome category.  I definitely needed a reason to slow down and just BE.   Thanks to little Lucy, that’s exactly what I’m doing.

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