all mine

There are obvious moments when I get sad or frustrated or even angry that Eli doesn't have a viable father figure, that I don't have help or even child support. Then I realize I'd have to share him. And then I bury my face in my baby's neck rolls and don't care if I'm broke and tired forever. 

My friend said to me right after Eli was born, something along the lines of "I've always thought of him as just yours". I feel that way, too. I look at him and see myself reflected back, along with so much personality that is just Eli. I don't see anyone else there. And I am so glad for that.

We had a little snuggle fest today to drive away the blues we were both feeling, and I told him how he's so meant for me.

I was utterly convinced I was having a girl, so to see when he was layed on my chest that I had a son was not what I was expecting. But I can't say I was shocked. It was just...right. And every once in a while I think about that. He's just, mine. He was meant to be. Just waiting for me. It had nothing to do with timing or his biological father. He chose me. He picked me. We are perfect together. All those things.

I'm so damned blessed.

reminisce and rejoice

I'm starting to really ache for fall.

Not being a hot-weather girl, and now having a very unhappy little overheated boy, this summer sort of sucked the life out of me. Now, to be honest - I WAS almost 42 weeks pregnant, and then recovering with a newborn. That's a lot. But this was an unusually long and hot summer here in the Pacific Northwest. Some people are crazy over it. Me?

Give me fall.

Give me pumpkins and apples and squash. Boots, scarves, tights, jackets. Give me sweet spices wafting from the oven and stews bubbling on the stove. Snuggling up cozy at night and fuzzy socks all day. That crisp in the air that wakes me right up.

Oh please, I can't wait!

I know there is still probably another month of summer left here, but the skies have been occasionally grey and damp, and the temperature dropping at night. There is hope.

Here, with crunchy leaves so often come rain to make it all sloppy and sad. But, it's okay. Because something about this fall just feels special.

I've been having quiet little flashback/premonitions. These things I can't explain properly to anyone, they just think I'm kookoo nuts. Maybe. But I know what I know. These often brief, always inescapable moments of I've dreamed this. But I haven't, I've just known it. That 'other', really in-touch part of me has know it before. Or lived it in a past life. I don't know.

All I know is that when I start having a lot of these moments, it usually means I'm on the right track. That I'm right where I'm supposed to be in that moment. And they keep hitting me, day after day. Even hardest days. They mean this is right and good things are coming.

And, so, in the middle of a lot of hard choices, I rejoice.

Fall is coming. And it will be spectacular.

check yourself

A million things run through my mind at night, with Eli peacefully sleeping by my side. But when I grab a few minutes and sit down to write...nothing.

I'm sort of just slogging through this past week or so. Not bad, exactly, but not good either.

I felt the hormonal shift happen -- another one! A bit low, a bit unmotivated. I sat and held him for an entire day. I think the realization of having to leave him to return to the working world hit in a very real way. And I just needed to hold him, same as some days he needs me to hold him.

Push through, for his sake and ultimately mine. Eli shows me how totally worth it everything is. His big grins and squeals, tummy time successes, and how much he's changing already. Those moments when I check myself, and just look into his eyes and share this love - those moments bring me back to earth, to my heart and soul.

Slog on, mama bear. Slog on.

trash the labels; win

I think a lot about the 'good days' and the 'hard days' we have.

And here's the thing, today was hard. Bad hard. Shared tears hard.
But today was also a colossal win. Not because I could fix all the tears, not because I never felt overwhelmed.

But because as the night winds down and I look back, I kept going.

I just said fuck it. I get too caught up in labels as a parent. Crying It Out, Cosleeping, Attachment Parenting, etc., etc.

Just do it. Do what works for you, your baby, your family. Don't feel guilty if you think it isn't in line with a label you've given yourself. If it works at all, do it. And feel good about it.

The second I decided to let go of the labels, stop second guessing myself, and follow my gut, things got just a little easier.

And a cold beer doesn't hurt.

today's reset

The PP hormones are waging war with my heart. I love this baby beyond words, and yet there are these awful late-night moments when I just think I want my life back, I didn't sign up for this. And I cry. Big hard to breathe tears. I lay back down and stare at his sleeping face. It's better.

Then there are sad grumpy full of tears days that absolutely break my heart because I can't fix it.

I check out, walk away for 30 seconds and collect myself. Time for a reset on our Monday afternoon:

Took a walk.

Ate some pasta and a cupcake.

Better. 

He is still snuggled up, sweaty and sleepy against me. Absolute love.

for now or later; friendship

I'm realizing over and over again how people come and go. It's like some bittersweet tide.

As I worked through, and continue to understand, such a dramatic life change as becoming a parent, I am both sad and humbled.

I have lost, either violently or quietly, many many friends. Even those I considered family. Either by loss of any mutual understanding - because being a mommy changes everything about you and nobody who isn't can understand it. Or, somehow, by the simple change of my own perceptions and priorities. People who's absolute garbage way of treating me I put up with because of the 'good times'...they were not, are not, worth my time or energy or breath. Thus, I removed them from my life. A little hard, a bit painful, but such a relief to be free.

And in the midst of so much change, I met these absolutely incredible people. Some who will remain for quite some time. Some who will likely fade away. But people who stuck it out this far, and these friends came in unlikely places.

What's the point and where am I going?

Well, this and here, I guess:

I feel tremendously down to the bone blessed. I feel so loved, so honored and cherished and lifted. I needed to remind myself of that tonight, after a long moment of tears shared with my little boy. Tears of why are we alone. I talked it out with him and felt better, felt relief to tell my son how loved we really are! We have this huge, crazy, expansive 'family' who loves us. All in their own way, for their own amount of time.

I'm learning most friendships aren't 'forever', but they're for as long as you need them. And the ones I have now feel solid in all their own rights.

what's in a name

I wanted to take a minute and explain the name of this blog. Mostly because I think it really sums up my experiences thus far, what I've learned from being a mama, and the kind of parent I am - and hope to be in the future.

Quiet background is this: my son's father is absolutely out of the picture. A lot of people think this means he just isn't involved, but he knows nothing beyond "I'm pregnant". It isn't ideal, but in this particular situation, it's absolutely the best option!

This is hard, some days. Harder when I was pregnant, actually. And in the very first highly hormonal I-can't-do-this-why-isn't-he-here days. Now? I'm okay. I really am. But mostly I'm sad for my son. Because he won't know his father, at least not for many years. It has made my place in his life big.

How do I say this? I'm everything. I'm mama-papa. I'm his whole world.

And I still have to provide a roof and food and safety for him, for us. This means working, and for now this means working outside of the home. This breaks my ever-loving heart. Into big shattered pieces. But I'm accepting it.

Because of this, and the guilt that surrounds me some days when I think about 'leaving' him, I'm trying to ease us both into the idea of being apart. For the first weeks, baby boy was always nursing to sleep. I was fine with that, I never wanted to let my sweet smelling newborn out of my arms. Now, I know I need to get him (and me) used to space and time apart. And truly, it's good for us even now.

In the midst of this gentle 'sleep training', I would lay his sleepy self down and walk away. Crying, mama's heart hurting. 10 seconds, and I'd go back and kiss him.

"Mama's right here. Mama always comes back."

20 seconds, maybe 30. Go back, kiss and touch.

"Mama's here. Mama never leaves for good. Mama always comes back."

This has become our mantra. I want to instill in him that mama will never ever leave for good. Mama will always love him, will always be here, will always come back.

I can't explain this, and it certainly wasn't conscious word choice. It simply spilled from my lips and tears followed.

Mama always comes back, baby.

re-definitions

Who am I, where am I?

I've written blogs for years. Since I was probably 13. I've had too many too count, and I like to make new ones. I think that's simply because I like to start over. Clean slate and all of that.

While, I don't really feel the need for a 'clean slate' (no regrets!), I did decide to take my blogging to a new level. A less personal and more global level. And by less personal, I don't mean my posts aren't going to be heartfelt and open and honest. They will be. That's how I write and who I am. I just think I'd like to re-define my past and write my story again, in clearer terms and to a bigger audience.

I am this:

A mother, a daughter, a sister, a best friend, a woman, a writer, an actor, a dreamer, and a do-er.

This is me:

This is my baby:

This is where I live:

 

I am a new mama of a darling baby boy. I couldn't be more in love. I live in a beautiful town, with beautiful people. My life is a constant surprise, always changing and challenging me, but I try my hardest to take it all in stride and with a smile.