Once again, recording some thoughts while Elle is napping. Any moment might be my last XD
Dysmorphia by Proxy
Sometimes when Elle is swaddled and in the crook of my arm, I genuinely feel like I see her as a toddler when I look down, and it's disturbing. It's like that part of Friends where Joey has a dream that he's holding a baby and sudden it's Ross's face staring up at him. Elle looks so different and so much older than she did at first.
The Irony
Gabe and I tried so hard to have a baby (like, I ate tinned oysters for months a few years ago) to now try so hard NOT to have a baby 😂 Like, I relish the times Gabe offers to give her a bottle so I can leave the house and pretend to be childless. We put her down at night and sneak upstairs and watch her on the monitor and BEG for her not to wake back up. I know this is totally normal, but it's still funny.
The Scrutinizing
And yet, we do watch her on the monitor. I have become more eagle-eyed than I thought possible as I zoom in and try to find a spot on the swaddle that moves so that I can be reassured that she's breathing.
The Cords
This is so random and unexpected, but the number of CORDS cluttering up our home has somehow quadrupled since having a baby. Chargers for our Kindles, our phones, her nightlight, her stroller fan, the baby monitor, Gabe's Nintendo Switch, my laptop as I work from the living room. I hate visual clutter and I hate tripping over things, so this has been...unfortunate.
Sticking to a Schedule
I used to think that parents who stuck rigidly to their child's routine might be coddling their child, who would need to know how to roll with life eventually. However, I have come to realize that ELL-OH-ELL, sticking to a schedule isn't even FOR the baby—it's for YOU, because if the baby's schedule is thrown off, it's not the baby who suffers, it is everyone within earshot, potentially for the whole rest of the day. It's like when I used to think that teachers who dismissed class early were doing it as a treat for the students, when, more often than not, the teacher wants class to be over at least as much.
Mantra
I didn't mean to create a mantra, but when Elle was a few weeks old, I would tell her how sweet she was and how beautiful she was, and it quickly occurred to me that I didn't want those to become the only (or even the default) adjectives we use for her. If our voices are going to become her first inner voice, I want her to have a more empowering impression of herself. I added some adjectives, and it became an actual habit of mine to chant to her that she is "so sweet and smart and strong and brave and beautiful."
The First Six-Hour Stretch
In comparing notes with other moms, I've learned that it is normal to fly awake in the middle of the night, realize your baby hasn't roused you in SIX HOURS?! and panic a little bit. Is this a good thing? Or is she DEAD? The good news is that Elle is fine, and will now sleep six hours at a time a couple of times a week. The bad news is that we have absolutely no clue what magic recipe is that yields these random restful blocks.
It turns out the people didn't lie: parenthood DOES get better, and a single one of Elle's smiles is payback enough.
Well, maybe two or three smiles.
~ Stephanie
No comments:
Post a Comment