Going Outside with Baby

With the nice weather, I've been taking my son outside to play in the backyard. As I laid out the blanket and slipped my shoes off, I was struck with this question: when did I become afraid of interacting with nature? 

I remember running around our yard barefoot as a child, despite my father's constant warnings to wear shoes (as he was a carpenter, there was a greater likelihood of loose nails & screws being found back there). I remember wading through creeks and climbing trees, petting bees and soaking up the rain. Now, I stay inside if it's raining and wear shoes if I'll be walking on grass. It's almost as if I'm afraid of interacting with nature. I'll go outside and observe it, shooting pictures or sitting on a blanket with my son, but heaven forbid I actually touch it. 

And I realized that I was hesitant to let my son touch it. Since he loves putting things in his mouth, I wouldn't want him eating grass or a bug or something poisonous.

But then I remembered. I remembered the adventure of wading up a creek I imagined to be the Amazon and I an explorer. I remembered the freedom of climbing our apple trees and feeling invincible. I remembered believing myself to be the lone benefactor of the ants I allowed to crawl over my skin. I want my children to have those and many more experiences. I want them to explore the jungle, unearth treasures, and care for little creatures. I shouldn't keep that from them.

My son stepped on the grass with his bare feet and had the cutest reaction. I would have missed that experience if I had protected him from it.

So what if he tastes a little grass? I ate dirt and lived to tell the tale.

Mom-ing It

So, I'm a mom. I've been a mom for nearly 8 months now, and I think I might be getting the hang of it. I mean, as much as a mom of an 8-month-old can.

I know that kids grow, situations morph, things change. So, I know that after I've gotten used to being a mother of an infant, I'll have to learn to get used to a new dynamic. That's how life works - it's an ever-evolving roller coaster ride.

I've learned to flow into the rhythm of mom-ing it.

We were spoiled with a really good sleeper until we moved our son to his own room a little over a month ago. Finally, after a terrible night of waking up every half hour to screams, I had had enough and frantically searched for sleep solutions. I had a frustrating week of sleep training that resulted in our son sleeping even better than he had when we thought we were spoiled. Our average of 8 hours straight turned into an average of 11 hours straight. That changed a lot of things for us.

Rather than just feeding him for an hour 'til he was in a deep sleep or trying to find just the right combination of bouncing with the right song to lull our baby to sleep - "an art" as my husband called it - we now have a routine. It frees us up to be able to go out without worrying whether grandparents are up to the task of putting him down.

This routine has also allowed me to have free time to myself during the day. He no longer has to nap attached to me, so I can get things done - clean the house, take showers, or nap. It's delightful. The added benefit? Getting my libido back. The constant physical attachment was a drain that made any extra attention from my husband unwelcome. This sleep scheduling thing really helped our marriage in the still-new parents chapter.

For those of you wondering if I ever bonded with baby, I did. It took time and patience, but I love that kid like I never loved anyone before. I'm not saying I love him more than anyone else, just different. Like, have-a-complete-emotional-and-mental-break-down-over-how-the-heck-am-I-going-to-protect-him-from-people-who'd-wish-him-harm different. Sorry, dad, for rolling my eyes every time you worried about me getting abducted. I get it now.

And with his ever-increasing mobility (hopefully crawling soon), and our consistent nap schedule, I am enjoying motherhood even more. I can spend his sleeping hours writing or watching mind-numbing TV, and when he's awake, I'm able to be fully present with him.

I'm learning to balance my desire to be the perfect mom/wife with the reality that some days I just don't have the energy to make a meal from scratch. I have to be okay with that. I'm no super mom, but I definitely earned the massage I got (as an early present) for Mother's Day.

Moms, wherever you are right now in your motherhood journey, I hope that you know you're doing an awesome job. Don't pressure yourself to be the perfect Pinterest-ing mom, just be the best you can be and leave the rest up to God.

(I need to remember that.)

The two books I read for sleep scheduling (the latter worked better for us, although it was really long):


On Becoming Baby Wise: Giving Your Infant the Gift of Nighttime Sleep


Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child, 4th Edition: A Step-by-Step Program for a Good Night's Sleep

2 Weeks Postpartum

A little over 2 weeks ago, I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. The first thought I had when the doctor placed him on my chest was oh, there was an actual living, breathing human being in there. I don't know what I was expecting, maybe a fruit or vegetable since I'd been reading up on comparative sizes for the past nine months. Whatever it was, I was not expecting this squirming red baby that was plopped onto my chest. I'm not one of those people who didn't know they were pregnant, nor was I accidentally impregnated. I've been wanting to be a mother for all of my (albeit short) adult life. We'd been trying for 6 months before I got the positive result. I was excitedly reading up on birth and parenting and picking out baby items throughout my pregnancy. 

It's just - well - my labor seemed anticlimactic for some reason. It wasn't a long arduous labor. In fact, I enjoyed telling every detail of it to anyone who'd listen. 

I didn't know what was wrong. Although I knew I was pregnant with a boy, I think part of me still hoped he'd be a girl because girls seem so much easier to raise than boys (having been a girl myself). There was also the fact that I had a beautiful baby when I was half expecting an ugly one since I was a pretty ugly baby. Whatever the reason, the reality that I was bringing home a living human didn't really set in. 

The thing is, it still hasn't. 

I realized from a dream I had a couple nights ago, that I haven't really felt any attachment to him as my child. Sure, I've been carrying him around and nursing him, spending loads of my time holding him close, but I haven't really bonded with him yet. 

It took me a few days to even say "I love you" to him, and that even felt superficial. I have to remind myself to kiss him every once in a while, while my husband can't stop kissing him.

I had to ask what was wrong with me that I felt nothing towards this baby I'd been carrying for 9 months. I googled it. Apparently it can take up to 6 months to bond with one's baby. 6 months! I hope it doesn't take that long. As for now, I will continue to do everything I can to try to bond with my baby and pray that it happens sooner rather than later. I guess we'll see.