Babies are boring

Lets be honest. Babies are boring. Life affirming the object of our undying love and boring. I’m reminded of this when I got a text from a new mom friend. An honest one.
“IM SO BORED”. Yes, she knows she is blessed to have this scrumptious gift, but it’s dull. They can’t talk, play craps, play who would you rather.

That’s why when I meet mother’s who never hire a sitter or don’t have a handy relative to help I think THEY ARE CRAZY AND SHOULD GET THEIR TUBES TIED. Sometimes the monkey needs to roar.

If you have a baby it’s OKAY to think, “This is boring.” Better than thinking that you should be in a constant state of ecstasy and excitement. Better than thinking, is everyone really fulfilled and I’m the bad mom who wants to watch a movie uninterrupted, travel the world or have sex with that guy who I just saw in the parking lot? Normal thoughts.
Play out all you want in your head. Think whatever goofy fantasy or try to steal to the computer to catch a glimpse of an adult conversation.

If POW’s can get through their experience so can you.

You do have to show up for motherhood, but your thoughts are your own. And as you count the delicious little toes and put plastic blocks out for your baby to suck on you think, “I’m so BORED” that’s okay.

Very few moments of motherhood look like this.

me and Viv

Rolling Over

Hi developmental milestone! I knew you’d be visiting a lot. You are here so much lately I’m going to have to make you a bed on the couch. Rex is eating chicken and rips out my hair with abandon. It’s good it’s so thick, or I’d be calling myself spotty head.

And here he is rolling over for the first time… well second. First time I didn’t have the camera ready.

Please Take a Nap

There was a time when I handed someone something and I said, “Here is your camera.” It really was one.

Now it’s a phone.

There was a time when I said, “I’m in the mood for a kabob!”  I meant it.  But actually I mean a turkey wrap.

I use to say, “Sure, a jog sounds great.”  But I mean lying on my back on the couch.

My brain is not working that well. I know it’s cause I’m just so tired.

In this article they list the symptoms of sleep deprivation. It says some people need 9 hours of sleep. I haven’t sleep like that in over 5 years.  I’m happy with 6. The problem with this article and others I searched for is there was nothing about how one (a mom, a solider, a shift worker) can ever really function well without sleep… ’cause they can’t.

And if I didn’t fold my socks together when they come out of the dryer I would be dressing like a 3 year old. And not in the cute way.

Genderless Babies

Babies are babies. My daughter didn’t gravitate to pink till she was in pre-school. And while my son has a masculine cast to his face, he looks a lot like Vivien did at his age. Now, since he is an easier baby than Vivien, does that mean years from now she will be yelling she has to have a new dress for school while he quietly watches sports and belches on the couch? I’ll have to wait and see.

But for now people say things like, “Oh, a son, boys LOVE their moms.” My daughter loves me, thank you very much. Or the gal who said to me, “Wait till you have your boy.  I’m so in love with my son.” (She had two daughters.) What is this, Sophie’s choice?

Mother Inferiority Complex

Okay, now I don’t often feel in competition with moms. If I see a mom more patient than me, I give her credit for it. If I see a mom more crafty than me I say, “Gosh, I wish I did more art projects with my daughter.” But recently one mom really made me gulp. It’s my new friend Ellen who has FREAKISH AMOUNT OF MILK PRODUCTION.

This photo doesn’t do her milk supply justice. I was at her house, and she was about to move. She said, “I don’t know what we are going to do about my breast milk.” I was confused. She was moving very close by, and I thought, “Well, you throw it in a Coleman cooler with square of dry ice, and you are done.” Then she opened her freezer, and it was about 8 feet tall tower o’ milk. My eyes were saucers. Then she said:

“We have  a freezer in the garage that has the same amount.” What? She works all day 5 days a week and can pump at work. And boy does she pump. She has a lovely big and plump little 7 month old. His nanny says he takes in about 6 oz in a feeding. Woof. “I’m just finishing the December milk”

Now, I am no slacker in the breast feeding department. I nursed Viv for over two years. I have no problem getting milk for Rex, but I have maybe 4 to 12 bags of pumped in milk in the fridge AND the freezer at a given time. I suddenly felt about 2 inches tall in the mom department. I suddenly got how my friends who for one reason or another were not able to nurse their kids. Their milk didn’t come in; they had had breast reductions, whatever. I really think there is an innate confidence that comes with having milk for your baby. Like, yeah, I’m doing my job!

That night I dreamed of her milk. The next few days I practically was walking up to stranger, “You will not believe this woman’s milk supply.”  It’s a good thing she is a nice, modest person, or it could be annoying. You know, like your friend who always got A’s but didn’t brag about them?

Ellen said she was looking into donating the milk. Wonder if there is a tax deduction for that? ‘Cause for a mom who wants to get out of the house for a few hours, it’s as good as gold.

A Stranger Kissed My Son

Everyone says that when you are pregnant, people will rub your belly and say disgusting things. Yes, during this last pregnancy, I did get tired of being asked by strange men at the grocery store if I was carrying 8 babies. You are so funny I forgot to laugh! But in general, the old Armenian lady telling me to cover my big belly, strangers guessing if I was carrying a boy or a girl, or friends kissing my tummy didn’t bother me that much. But a stranger kissing my infant? That’s another story….