Enjoy.

If I could use one verb to describe my mothering of Mila so far it would be: enjoy. I have enjoyed every day of being her mother. Yes, every day. Of course there are moments where I think it'd be nice to get a pedicure, or watch an early movie, sneak in a haircut- any daytime on my own. She has been at every haircut, every pedicure. She is my velcro baby, always attached to me. My theory is that this is why she is so "easy", she is with her comfort 24/7. But, I digress.

With this second child I already knew how deeply I'd fall in love. I knew how breastfeeding really hurts at first. That sleep would be my long lost lover. That she would be the most beautiful creature, right there in front of me. Olivia taught me and I was a good student. I wanted to be an earth mama because that is how nature intended. I'd wear her close, feed her my milk, keep chemicals away.

These parenting choices (breastfeeding, cloth diapering, babywearing, attachment parenting) have not only seamlessly fit into our small family but also brought me into a community of inspiring women. So many amazing mamas, all so different, but with a common ground. Tiny, happy babies. Thriving off of pure mama love.

#momlife

With the popularity of mom blogs and the rapid spread of information that the internet allows I feel that mothers now have a soapbox that was never there before. A means of expressing the triumphs, failures, delights, woes, and perils of procreating. It's refreshing to see I am not the only one with "motherhood existentialism". Most of these writings that go viral seem to be written by mothers who do not work outside the home, for whatever reason. Some because childcare is too expensive, others because the financial need is not there, and many because they purposely choose not to.

I fall under a particular category. Yes, I chose to stay home in a way, but me working would make far more work for my family than we can handle at the moment. It entails so many things. What I would make versus childcare FOR TWO, needing more help from Todd while his plate is already overflowing, and the idea I have of my two babies in someone else's care for most of their waking hours.

I've done the working thing before. If you read this blog often enough you know that. And if I am going to continue writing here I have to be honest. Sometimes I find myself missing my 25 minute commute to work. Alone. My 15 minute Starbucks breaks. Alone. My paychecks. Adult interaction. Having MY THING. But, frankly, there is no ME in MOTHER.



Even though our situation isn't always ideal, I still go to bed every night thankful that I get to be with these two all day. Every day. They are my job, my priority. What do you do? I mother. My attempts are honest and true, hopefully I'm doing what is best. Some days at the office suck, my bosses are two and 7 months and can be volatile.

So here, on my own little soapbox, I will share one thing I have learned. One aspect of this whole "stay at home mom" job that seems to transcend the tantrums, frump, stickiness, and challenges of being the queen bee.

This is a career of moments. It should never be measured by big projects, or the deadlines of milestones. Sometimes I want to scream, but have to remind myself that this is the most fleeting phase. It certainly isn't forever, but it is so crucial, even if it won't mean anything on my resume. It's just as short as they are.

Have you seen this?

I cannot believe how guilty I am!

7 months.

I cannot even believe I am posting this. My Mila will be 7 MONTHS OLD on Tuesday. Unreal. Baffling. She is closer to 1 than 0. It feels like just yesterday I was blogging about her with a baby bump keeping me from getting too close to the keyboard.



She is so lovely, so sweet.

My letters to her were always address to "Baby Honey" since she didn't have an official name. How did I know that Honey would be so fitting? She is like sugar, smells like sweetness, her hair is the color of honey. I would eat her up if I could.



Size: She wears 9-12 clothing lately, although some 6-9 fits also. She is long, not sure exactly what her height is. She weighs around 17lbs. (I looked back, and this is what Olivia weighed at her 9-10 month check-up).

Milestones: She sits, grabs what she wants, rolls, vocalizes, lots of raspberries, smiles, laughing, coos, dinosaur noises. Still not even close to crawling. Recognizes those she sees daily, extraordinarily attached to me, thinks her sister is hilarious. Definite stranger anxiety. Mila is a mama's girl because mama has the goods.

Food: Still exclusively breastfed. Now that we have it down, without any shields or issues, I am enjoying it so much. There is nothing more relaxing than sitting to nurse, or laying to nurse. I guess there is just nothing more relaxing than her warm body pressed against mine as I provide her all the comfort and nutrition she could possibly wants. I've become one of those moms who says I LOVE BREASTFEEDING. And I do.

She hates solids. Practically gags. I have tried several things but I am in no huge rush. Honey's thriving on my milk and that is good enough for me.



Sleep: I have to say, but I am hesitant to jinx it. Okay, I will tell you anyway. She is SO EASY to put down at night. For 7 months, we have had seamless bedtimes. Yes, we cosleep and she still nurses throughout the night but I can put her down around 7pm and she just drifts off to sleepy land. We lay down, I nurse her, and that is it. What a blessing! No super long naps during the day, just sporadic cat naps.



People often comment on her extremely calm and easy demeanor. She is a bit shy, reserved. Analyzes and studies the world. Listens intently. In my opinion she is the poster child of an attached, breastfed baby that gets to be with her mom all day. Best thing ever: The giggle fits the girls have. Mila gets a kick out of Olivia, and Olivia gets a kick out of Mila giggling. It's contagious.

I love them so much I could burst.

Weavers.

Tonight I braided Olivia's hair. For the first time ever. She was distracted by cotton balls and nail polish but that is not the point. Tears grew warm at the corners of my eyes before I even noticed them.



Why would I get so emotional about two honey colored braids? Just strands of hair woven together. Her petite body sitting on my lap, on the closed toilet seat. It was far more significant than what it appeared to be. Just writing about it now brings back that same overwhelmed feeling. I remember my mom braiding my own freshly washed hair, my body so relaxed after the warm bath. I sort of just melted into her as we sat there. All I knew was what was apparent. Me, my mom, my wet hair between her fingers. I never considered all the things that surely ran through her mind. Life, work, money, bills, expectations.

I was so moved by tonight because it is a metaphor for this next stage of my mothering. I have realized that having a baby is relatively easy. It's the parenting a young human that gets challenging, it's rememering the person you are trying to create admist the world you trying to swim through. I have to consiously remind myself: I have two little women under my wings. I must teach them to fly, freely but with standards. Intelligent yet objective. Femenine but capable. Aware but always sympathetic.



There are moments where the sheer responsibility of creating two humans who are happy without psychological therapy and pharmaceuticals as adults is enough to make me pour a drink. Literally. The only survival mechanism I have perfected thus far is to live within the day, the moment. To take in the current warmth of her tiny legs against mine, the wet strands of her yellow hair in my palms as I weave two sweet yet imperfect braids.

Lately...

"Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life."

It's such a true compliment when someone says that I handle mothering well, that I always seem "together". It's the sort of simple thing someone says that I want to grab straight out of the air and stick in my back pocket, so I can bring it out on the tougher days. My laid-back nature comes from the fact that I gave up wanting to plan and control. I cut myself slack and just remind myself to be the best me every single day. I don't have to be perfect or have it all figured out, but if I did the best I could for my two daughters that day, then I sleep well... interruptions and way-too-early wake up calls considered. I always tell my husband that we are going to have a good life because we want it and are going to do what it takes to have it. "Joy is a decision."

Choose to be happy.


When O starts to drive me crazy we start a dance party. Here she is rocking out to Foster the People.