Five Minute Friday - If I knew I could, I would...

Linking up with The Gypsy Mama for five minutes (and they go fast!) of writing.  This week's thought-provoking topic:  If I knew I could, I would.  

If I knew I could, I would protect my daughter from all sadness, all pain, all the ugliness of this world.

I would keep her life forever this beautiful and simple.

Wordless Wednesday - Fashionista in the making

I'm joining in with Wordless Wednesday, when you present a picture that needs no words!

Please check out some of the other entries at Mom Start, 5 Minutes for Mom, The Adventures of Curly Tot, and Wordless Wednesday.

Top Ten Things They Don't Tell You About Pregnancy

I'm joining in with Oh Amanda's Top Ten Tuesday to share my Top Ten Things They Don't Tell You About Pregnancy.

10.  You gain weight.

Yeah, yeah, I know that seems pretty obvious, but before you roll your eyes at me, think about it.  I'm talking a serious amount of weight gain in a very short time, mostly sticking straight out in front of you.  At one point, I gained 7 pounds in one week!  Seven!  Do you know what that does to your center of balance?

Not to mention your butt?

Well, I do, but I'm sparing you that picture.

And on a post-pregnancy note, that whole "Nine months on, nine months off?"  So not true. 

9.  All those pictures of pregnant women trotting around looking so cute in their rounded bellies and high heels?  At some point, most pregnant women are lucky to fit into any shoes.

Hence, the Uggs on the beach.

8.  "Morning sickness" was given its name by a man.  I'm convinced.   It's all day and all night, all the time, never ending sickness.

And by the way, I wish they wouldn't keep telling you that it goes away after the first trimester. It doesn't.  They lied.

7.  Forget food cravings, it's the food aversions that should get the attention.  For nine months, just the thought of chicken made me physically nauseated.... okay, well, more nauseated than I already was. 

6.  You will feel more tired than you ever have at any point in your life.  (Of course, that's because you haven't had the baby yet, but that's for another list.)

Growing a person is a lot of hard work, and it's very tiring.  That's why you can't stop passing out on the couch 10 minutes into the 8:00 comedy block on NBC.

It's ok.  Really.  Sleep now while you still can because...

5.   Eventually, you won't be able to.  Midway through your second trimester, sleep becomes difficult.  The only comfortable position is like this:

But after so long, you start to get really sore, and you wonder if maybe, just maybe, you could possibly pile enough pillows under and around you to sleep on your belly.  Don't bother trying.  It doesn't work. I know.  I tried.

Anyways, even if it did work, as soon as you got comfortable, you'd have to get up to pee.  Every hour. 

Or else, your baby will be dancing and playing.

Or, you will wake up with the worst charlie horse you have ever experienced in your entire life.

4.  Remember number 9?  About not fitting into normal shoes?  As your pregnancy goes along, you may become increasingly swollen.  Probably not as swollen as me.  And probably not starting in the fourth month, like me.  I don't think anyone can be as swollen as I was without exploding.  I often worried I might.  The water I was retaining could have swept away a small village.

I was graced with the nickname "Shrek" by one of my co-workers.  The following picture might enlighten you as to the cause of that endearing nickname.  I warn you- the following is not for the faint of heart.  I would also like to say that this is actually on a good day.  I was frequently more swollen, but I just can't bring myself to share those pictures.

Yes, I do believe the ground shook slightly as I walked.

But please notice the lovely pedicure job, which leads into number three.

3. You don't appreciate your waist until you lose it.  It serves a very valuable function, allowing you to bend and reach things, like your toenails to paint them, or the pen you dropped at work, or to get up from a seat.

See, no waist.  I missed my waist.

I did like having an excuse to get pedicures, though.

2. Walking eventually becomes impossible, whereupon, you develop the pregnancy waddle.  And your husband, if he's anything like mine, will tease you mercilessly.  He'll taunt you just out of swattable reach, and it will be far too much effort to try to get closer, and besides, you'll just have to waddle to do it, and that will start it all up again.

Hopefully, unlike me, you will not be forced to develop the pregnancy waddle during your fifth month.  Or endure all your male co-workers simultaneously teasing you for it and telling you how cute it really is.

1.  Everyone tells you, but you can't ever really know how incredibly amazing it is to hold your newborn baby in your arms the moment after birth.  Words can't begin to describe it.  It makes every discomfort of the previous nine months and the pain of labor all completely worth it.  Without a doubt.  They pale in comparison to the magic that is your baby- the little person you created and grew and nutured.

It's amazing.

And you realize none of the other nine things matter in the least.  

You have your little love.  A piece of you.

Click it quick, before she moves!

I like to think I have a very photogenic child.  Although, if I'm being perfectly honest, most children are photogenic. As Paityn's mama, though, I'm entitled to believe she is the most photogenic of all.

That should mean taking her picture is easy, right?

Wrong.

This was my attempt at capturing a picture of Paityn dressed to the nine's in her Easter finest. (Thanks for the dress, Grandma Button!)

 

"No, baby, stand up, please."

"Not so up."

Dan, oh so very helpfully, "Flap your wings, P!"  In answer to my sigh, defensively, "Well, it makes her smile, doesn't it?"

Yes, it did make her smile, and Dan and I laugh.  A lot.  Which made Paityn....

... run to Papa!  "Wait, P, come back!"

 

"Put the snail back, please."

 

"Turn around, please."

"Too far!"

"Get out all the giggles.  No, not you, Pait, Papa.  Are you done yet, Dan?"

"There's my beautiful girl!"

It may have taken five minutes, endless chasing around the yard, rescuing one helpless snail, and a lot of repositioning to get this picture, but it was worth it!

Egg-spectations

Expectations.  We all have them.  I have a very vivid imagination, (it's both a blessing and a curse) and when I know a trip or a special event or something out of the ordinary is going to happen, I tend to think a lot about it.  I play out the whole thing in my head, picturing what will happen, what others will say, and what I'll say.  

It's insane, I know.  They say the first step is admitting you have a problem.  I have a problem.  Step one.

For weeks, we had been planning to go to an Egg Hunt at the Dunsmuir Hellman Estate, a historic mansion in Oakland.  I researched (Yes, researched.  I majored in Biology.  Nuff said.) many egg hunts in the area before deciding on this particular one.  I really liked this one because it broke out egg hunts by age group, with the under three set being one group.

I fondly pictured a lively egg hunt with toddlers cruising around, laughing and finding the many brightly colored eggs hidden on  an expansive mansion lawn.

What we experienced was something vastly different.  Being new to blogging, I have not yet begun taking pictures of everything, so words will have to do.

In a small, roped off area, many children, half of them suspiciously tall and amazingly advanced to be only three, were trampling each other, grabbing plastic eggs off the grass.  Teenage "workers" walked around, occasionally tossing an egg or two out into the melee.  Where the egg landed, children descended like a swarm of bees.

With some trepidation on my part, we entered the melee.

We went with a friend and her young daughter, who is Paityn's age.  My friend commented to me how a little boy came up and grabbed an egg out of her daughter's basket, then ran up to his mom,  who had witnessed the blatant thievery, proudly proclaiming, "Look, I found one!" 

We managed to find a couple eggs; few enough that Paityn could count how many she had by herself, so that would be two.

 

It was overwhelming, to say the least.  I was more than slightly irritated at the lack of organization, the lack of common decency, and the lack of eggs.  Honestly, though, I think I was mostly upset that my own expectations had not been realized.

After the crazy egg grab, we ate our picnic .  In spite of their name, I find it impossible to eat deviled eggs and stay grumpy; they are far too yummy.  After three, okay, maybe it was more like four, of the deliciously devily little things, I started having fun.

After eating, Dan took Paityn to see the dogs and bunnies, then we met the Easter Bunny (again- she's met one almost  every day this week).  

Waiting to meet the Easter Bunny.  She's waving, trying to get his attention.

Paityn is a big fan of anyone in costume, so we have discovered.  Mickey Mouse.  The Easter Bunny. The  teenager wearing the Statue of Liberty costume outside the tax company.  

Paityn was ecstatic to meet the Easter Bunny.  I know she doesn't look like it in the picture, but I swear, we had to drag her away.

On the way home, Paityn passed out.  An hour later, we were home, and I carried her into the house, fully expecting her to wake up.  Two hours later, she was still sound asleep on the couch, worn out by fun.

As she lay there, I reflected on the day.  I had been so excited for her to experience her first egg hunt.  I had built it all up in my head, and when it hadn't gone at all like I expected,  I had been irritated and disappointed.  

But my daughter, the person for whom I had planned the whole day, had a blast.  She loved looking for the eggs, eating a picnic lunch, being with her friend, seeing real live bunnies, and meeting the Easter Bunny.  Even though I had been talking to her about it all week, she didn't experience any letdown because the day didn't live up to what she expected.  She had simply enjoyed the experience for exactly what it was.  

She found joy where I found disappointment.

Anticipation can be a wonderful thing.  Half of the fun of an event, a present, an experience, can be the anticipation.  But it can also be a dangerous emotion.  Too much dependence on something exactly  meeting your expectations can leave you disappointed when it becomes something else.  It can leave you unable to enjoy the moment for what it is.

I'm so glad we went to the Egg Hunt.  I did have a very good time.  And I learned a very valuable lesson from my daughter: find joy in life, even when it doesn't meet your expectations.  You never know when you'll get another chance to hug the Easter Bunny.

 

Five Minute Friday - Mary's Hard Love

I'm joining in with The Gypsy Mama for Five Minute Friday.  This week's topic: the hard love.

Doesn't this weekend represent the very essence of hard love?

Most people reflect upon Jesus' sacrifice and his great love for us, especially today, on Good Friday.  But... I think about Mary, even more so now that I'm a mama.

I imagine that like most other Jews at the time, Mary didn't understand that Jesus came to earth to die.  I wonder what she thought as she watched the trial unfold.  Mary was the one person who had always understood the supernatural nature of her son, from the very beginning.  I can only imagine that she expected a far different outcome than watching her firstborn child carry his cross to his own execution.  

Did she expect angels to swoop in at any moment?  Did she expect Jesus to reveal himself in all his glory, and take his rightful place as King?  At what moment did she realize that she was there to witness the death of her child, and that there would be no angels, no rescue, no triumphant battle? 

Supernatural he might be, but to Mary, Jesus was her baby boy.  She had carried him for nine months, given birth to him, nursed him, kissed his boo-boos, read him stories and watched him grow.

A mother's love.  The hard love.  Is there any other kind for a mother? 

A newfound dream

The moment a child is born, the mother is also born.  
She never existed before.

The woman existed, but the mother, never. 
A mother is something absolutely new.

~Rajeesh

When I was a little girl, I dreamed someday of being an astronaut, an archaeologist, the first female President of the United States, an actress.

Yes, my dreams were mostly big ones, and I was filled with the desire to leave my small town and make something of myself.  I’d look out my bedroom window to the hills beyond our quiet neighborhood and long to see what was beyond their tempting heights.

It’s funny how we can get in the way of our own dreams, and that’s what I did.  I didn’t end up becoming any of the things I had dreamed of in my childhood.  But, God has a mysterious way of working our mistakes into a beautiful mess, and my choices created new dreams.  

I met the love of my life, and we dreamed together of a life in California.  Together, we created that life, but it meant sacrificing other dreams; it is the rare person who can have all her dreams all at one time.

I started to feel that I was losing so much of myself with these sacrifices, and I decided to start changing my path and working toward a couple more dreams.  I felt like I had finally discovered a path to a dream, a purpose, an outlet for my passions.

A few months later, I discovered I was pregnant, and I had to stop because of the all-day sickness that I experienced.  At first, I thought I would quickly return.  When that became impossible, I was incredibly disappointed.

Almost as soon as I knew I was pregnant, life began changing for me.  I started to wonder if I would become “lost” in mommy-hood, to the point where I would lose my own identity.   

If there is a woman out there who doesn’t have some concerns about her life changing after she has a baby, I would like to meet her and know her secrets to such sublime acceptance! 

I was so happy to be pregnant, but at the same time, I was clinging to my freedom and old life.  I loved the feeling of the new life growing inside me, but I worried that the responsibility would mean I would no longer be able to chase my other dreams.

I can tell you the exact moment that those worries and concerns flew away.  They were lost in the all-encompassing love I felt when the nurse laid my beautiful, healthy daughter on my chest.  Grey-blue eyes, puffy and squinty, peered up into my own, and filled with recognition.

I swear, she thought these words so loudly, telegraphed through her eyes, it felt like she spoke them aloud: "I know you..."  

Have you ever reconnected with a very old, very dear friend whom you hadn’t seen in years?  That was similar to what my daughter and I shared in a moment that lasted a lifetime.

Time stopped, and though the room swarmed around me, noisy with laughter, beeping, and nurses calling to each other, I heard only a single heartbeat beating in time with my own.  My daughter and I gazed at each other, all at once familiar with each other’s characteristics and also seeing them for the first time.

In a flash of connection and knowing, I became a mother.

I realized my little girl dreams had never reached far enough; I had never dared to dream big enough.

I had dreamt of seeing the night stars up close, of being a Hollywood star on the movie screen.

I had dreamt of far-off places filled with ancient history and of making American history.  

I had never dreamt of giving life, of holding one small soul in my arms, of encompassing one person’s entire world.  I realized my real purpose on this earth was to guide this little soul through the twists and turns, happiness and heartaches, and ups and downs of this life.

This is my new dream: raising Paityn.