a mother’s guilt

The Good The Bad And The Ugly

Posted on August 31, 2010 Written by Tonya

I have been thinking about my earlier post all day and it is now true confession time.

If I’m going to share my life with all of you and eventually Lucas himself, then I have to share the good, the bad and the ugly…

By and large, Sea World is one of those places that is great for busy toddlers; there is tons of open and safe places for them to roam around and explore, provided there aren’t swarms of people and you’re up for some exercise.

So, yes while we had a very fun day yesterday, Lucas has decided that the stroller is a torture chamber.

Full.

On.

Meltdown.

Every time I tried to get him into the stroller so that we could venture on to the next exhibit.

He wanted only to be on the ground and mobile, not strapped in or confined.

There were tears and sweat and head butts and one skinned knee.

It wasn’t pretty.

I have decided that I’m NOT cut out for these tantrums.

They are embarrassing and exhausting and leave me feeling completely helpless and awful. They make me want to package up my child, take him home and never leave the house with him again.

These fits of rage never last very long, but it is as though the devil himself possesses my son for four minutes and for me it is an excruciating 240 seconds. Seriously, it is the worst part of parenting… so far.

I am hoping these outbursts are just a phase. Somebody, please tell me that this is just a phase. Lucas has only been walking for three months, so I know that it is still very new and exciting to him.

So, there you have it. There were oh, four of these episodes yesterday. Luckily they got tamer as the day wore on because his little legs got tired, but nevertheless, they took their toll on both of us.

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Lost In Translation

Posted on August 26, 2010 Written by Tonya

Lucas, you know so many words, but trying to communicate with one another is still very difficult and frustrating for both of us. You and I had our first of what is sure to be MANY major communication breakdowns this morning.

You woke up in a delightful mood; happy and all smiles, but once we got downstairs and I started trying to make your breakfast, that all went to hell.

You spotted something on the cluttered kitchen counter top that you wanted and wanted BAD. You whined and and cried for it and kept saying “mama mama”, which I took as “help me”, but help from me was the LAST thing you wanted.

When I picked you up, you arched your back and pushed me away, so I put you back down on the ground, which only escalated your anger.

There was a pile of mail, a pair of your shoes, all the breakfast ingredients; a banana, milk carton, box of cereal, container of apple sauce, a cutting board, knife, bowl, spoon, and my wallet spilling out of my purse. As I meticulously picked up each and every item, showed you and asked, “is this it?”, your frustration grew and grew.

You were so mad and started the ugly cry, complete with big crocodile tears, a huge pouty lip and a look in your eyes that pleaded, “why don’t you understand me?!”.

I was just about at my wits end with your repetitive “no’s” and sad face that I almost broke down myself. Why was I having such a hard time figuring out what you wanted and why was this all happening before 8 o’clock in the morning?

All of a sudden, it hit me.

You call Daddy’s phone “mama” because his wallpaper is a picture of you and me. You also call my wallet “mama” because of the picture on my driver’s license that you see as soon as you open it. The minute I handed my wallet to you, all was right in the world again. Thank God.

The best is yet to be.

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Guilty As Charged

Posted on July 6, 2010 Written by Tonya

Where does a mother’s guilt come from?

Guilt implies that you have done something wrong.

What’s a better word for “guilt”?

Worry?

Regret?

What is it about being a mother that means you end up carrying so much of it (whatever you call it) around?

Does a mother’s guilt ever subside or does it just grow and manifest with each passing year? God, help me if it is the latter!

I find myself feeling guilty almost every single day about something having to do with the way in which I am raising my son. I feel lost some days on this journey called motherhood and a lot of the time like I’m fumbling through it with very little direction.

At this point, I know what I’m doing. I mean, I have the basics down (I think). Lucas is a very happy, healthy 13 month old, who’s well-dressed, well-fed, has a room of his own and a gazillion toys and other apparatuses to keep him safe and entertained, but yet, I still worry.

A lot.

I worry that he is getting everything he needs from me in the form of time and comfort, that he’s being exposed to the right toys, books, foods, activities, amount of sunlight, etc., etc., etc.

We spend A LOT of time together. I worry about that.

I worry that he’ll NEVER learn to drink from a cup. Every few days I try to get him to use a sippy cup and he plays with it like it’s a new toy.

I’ve been known to stick him in front of the television for 30 minutes of peace and quiet and that causes me a lot of guilt.

Oh yeah, another thing to feel guilty about: We may have found a new nanny for my 10 hour a week break… she started today and so far so good, but lots of guilt there!

I feel guilty when I don’t exercise or think I’m not taking the best care of myself because I waited so long to have a child that I feel like I owe him the healthiest fittest version of myself for as long as I can be here. Nothing like putting a little pressure on myself, is there?

The guilt is never ending and can be all consuming if I let it. I know I need to let some of this (most of it) go, but how do you do that? How do you handle the guilt that comes with being a mother?

The best is yet to be.

This post is for the word game, Word Up, Yo!hosted by Natalie (Mommy of a Monster), Kristin (Taming Insanity) and Liz (a belle, a bean and a chicago dog).

If you like words too, you should play along!
This week’s word is fumble.

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Desperately Seeking Mary Poppins

Posted on June 29, 2010 Written by Tonya

I am so frustrated with our nanny search that I am ready to pull my hair out!! See photo demonstration at right.

If you haven’t been following along… Up until last week, we had a wonderful young woman named Angel help care for Lucas two days a week for 5 hours each day and less than a month ago, she gave us her notice. (Saddest. Day. Ever.) She and her husband decided to move to Idaho so that he could go back to school. We were/are genuinely happy for her, supportive of her decision and had hoped that she would find us a replacement. She had previously placed nannies as part of her career and we had every confidence in her abilities.

Angel brought us ONE candidate that seemed like the perfect match, but in the end decided to devote more time to the family she is currently with, a widower and his two daughters. We can’t really blame her for that… they need her more than we do.

It was an interesting interview though. It turns out that she recently discovered that she can’t have children and broke down in tears while we were talking. My heart goes out to anyone that is unable to have children of their own and something inside me knew that she would be perfect with Lucas. This outward display of emotion and honest disclosure was refreshing.

Alas, it wasn’t meant to be…

It was shortly there after that Angel decided “it would be best if I hand over nanny search responsibilities to you. I still have a lot of packing to do and want to make sure that I get it done on time.” Um, are you kidding me? With only days until you are leaving, you drop this all on us? Great! Angel, I know you read this and I’m sorry, but that was super crummy and very disappointing.

Okay, never one to back away from a challenge, I immediately signed up for Sittercity.com on the recommendation of several friends and instantly had an In Box full of applications. Girls that clearly can’t read or comprehend the words LONG TERM AVAILABILITY IS A MUST. We don’t want to be in this situation again in three months.

I have had ten phone interviews in four days and two face-to-face interviews and still no one very promising. Here are some highlights for your amusement:

One girl is three months pregnant and wants to bring her baby to our home with her once she delivers.
One girl currently lives in Cleveland! We live in San Diego. She is moving out here, but not until next month.
Many girls are teachers and are waiting with baited breath for a teaching job offer. PLEASE READ THE AD!
Others are students and are looking for summer-only work. AGAIN, READ THE AD!
There has also been a plethora of applications that have been downright illegible, riddled with spelling errors and incoherent sentences. YOU ARE NOT GOING TO GET VERY FAR WITH ME WITHOUT GOOD GRAMMAR!!

Ugh! This is so much harder than I thought. It’s like trying to find a mate, but WAY worse!!

Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe the universe is trying to tell me to suck it up and be a 40 hour a week Stay At Home Mom. Who needs 10 hours of “me time” anyway?

I DO and I shutter at the thought of giving up those 600 minutes up each week. Nanny Gods, please, please, please, send someone fabulous our way!! Thank you.

The best is yet to be.

This post is for the word game, Word Up, Yo! hosted by Natalie (Mommy of a Monster), Kristin (Taming Insanity) and Liz (a belle, a bean and a chicago dog).

If you like words too, you should play along!
This week’s word is plethora.

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Boobs

Posted on June 14, 2010 Written by Tonya

I’ve been thinking about boobs a lot lately.

I’ve been thinking about how they vary in size and shape from woman to woman and how some women go to extremes to augment, lift and smash them together.

I know nine women that have had breast implants without ever looking back (aside from one that had a horrific experience and had them removed). I’m completely envious of the way these women’s boobs look. They are always so perky and look fantastic in everything they wear, especially bikinis. I’m also envious that often times, they don’t even wear bras because they don’t have to.

I thought I had good boobs before I had a baby. A nice solid B+, as in the size, not the grade, but as long as I brought it up I’d give them a B+ grade too. Nowadays, they are more of C- and that’s with the helpful aid of the “right” bra (is there even such a thing?)

There are no two ways about it, boobs completely transform while you are pregnant and in the year that follows. I’m amazed that their sole purpose (aside from looking fabulous in a push up bra under a little black dress) is to provide nourishment.

I have several friends working on weaning their infants off the boob right now and it makes me sad. Okay, I’m just going to say it: I tried breastfeeding and it didn’t work for me.

This is my story:

I have to admit I was on the fence about it from day one and struggled with my decision up until I purchased the Cadillac of all breast pumps (the Medela Pump In Style with shoulder bag), ample storage bags, boxes of bra pads, nursing shirts and two tubes Costco-sized tubes of lanolin cream. With all the gear, there was no turning back. Plus, I was looking forward to the connection and bonding that my son and I would have, not to mention, I had heard that you can burn an extra 500 calories a day by breastfeeding. Bonus!!

Little did I know what sort of battle I was up against. Breastfeeding hurt like nothing I had ever experienced before; from the top of my head to the bottom of my toes. It was more painful to me than labor and delivery and I delivered naturally without drugs.

There’s just something so wrong about pulling your unsatisfied newborn off your breast only to find his mouth full of blood instead of milk and wanting to cry your eyes out from the pain.

We had lactation specialists visit us in the hospital and at home, took pictures of the pillow arrangements and bought nipple shields, which helped a little bit, but when my milk wasn’t coming in and I couldn’t relax and began panicking because my little tiny baby was screaming out of hunger, I resorted to pumping only. I only produced two to three ounces a day and that only lasted two months and then I, of course completely. dried. up.

Fortunately (or unfortunately), Lucas was dehydrated when he was born and took longer than the standard week to return to his birth weight, so the nurses at the hospital told us we would have to supplement with formula. Dad was feeding the synthetic stuff to our son this through a syringe while my sister was pressing on my breasts to help encourage the milk to come in and I was busy trying to relax and hold my baby in the most optimal position. As you can imagine, it wasn’t a pretty picture.

I know of all the advantages of breastfed babies and I wanted them for Lucas. I thought I would have a gullet of milk gushing out of my boobs. I wanted my boobs to do what they were designed for, but instead they let me down and to this day I still feel extremely guilty that Lucas didn’t get breast milk longer. I really did try and I had a lot of support around me, it just wasn’t meant to be in the end.

Whether they work or not, back to boobs…and bras.

I feel like I am forever on the search for the perfect fitting, just enough lift, maximum comfort providing bra, especially now that mine have changed so much since giving birth. I think it’s time for this momma to head back to Nordstrom for an “intimate” fitting.

I have had pretty good luck with the Victoria Secret Body by Victoria line, but would love to know what everyone else likes. What’s your favorite everyday bra? Sports bra? Nursing bra (provided I ever give that another whirl)? Push up? T-shirt?

The best is yet to be.

This post is for the new word game, Word Up, Yo! hosted by Natalie (Mommy of a Monster), Kristin (Taming Insanity) and Liz (a belle, a bean and a chicago dog). I love words and wish I had a better vocabulary. I like the way words sound and feel sometimes rolling off my tongue. I especially enjoy words that I have to look up their meanings to. Having said all of that, you may see this button on my blog from time to time:

If you like words too, you should play along!
This week’s word is gullet.

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I’m Losing It

Posted on June 2, 2010 Written by Tonya

Confession Time!

I hate to say it, but some mornings, I don’t want to do this. Some days, I don’t feel like being someone’s mom.

I know I sound like a terrible person and even worse mother, but I think to myself, I don’t think that I can make one more bottle, change one more diaper or prepare another meal for this kid.

I don’t know if I can sit through an episode of “Play With Me Sesame” or read one more book.

I’m not sure that I can muster the patience needed to listen to the same toys belt out their all too happy songs over and over and over again.

I know that I can’t hear myself say, “no” and “please don’t touch that” One More Time or I’m really going to lose it and God forbid you whine… that is the kiss of death!!

Sometimes I think I would rather check myself into a super fancy hotel, put on a big comfy bathrobe, order room service and LOTS OF WINE and watch movies all day long. C’mon, ladies, please tell me I’m not alone in my thinking, doesn’t that just sound like bliss?

But then…

You do something completely and utterly adorable and look at me with those eyes and I know that I have to put one foot in front of the other and be the best mom I can be because you’re my child and I want to.

The best is yet to be.

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Stunt Man

Posted on May 21, 2010 Written by Tonya

Confession Time!

Two weeks ago you fell off the changing table.

It was on my watch and I am riddled with guilt and very thankful that you were fine 30 seconds after it happened.

After screaming bloody murder for 15 seconds, the next 15 seconds you spent trying to squirm out of my arms because I thought you were mad at me for letting you fall.

As soon as I put you down on the floor, you crawled faster than I have ever seen you, over to a huge bottle full of change in our bedroom, one of your favorite things to play with. Upon reaching it, you started laughing and it was as if the fall didn’t even happen.

I can’t help but wonder if you just might have a career as a stunt man or a leading man in your future.

I know letting you fall off the changing table is no joking matter, but it was an accident and very careless of me to walk away without strapping you in. Throughout the night of the fall, I checked your shoulders and arms repeatedly to make sure that you could move them and continued checking for bruises the whole following week. I have definitely learned my lesson.

By the way, the photo above was taken this morning. Lucas wanted to check in on his college fund and I couldn’t resist taking the shot.

The best is yet to be.

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Time Is Of The Essence

Posted on May 14, 2010 Written by Tonya

Time and I don’t get along much anymore.

There are just not enough hours in the day and I feel as though I am always trying to beat the clock.

My piles and “To Do” list seem to grow instead of diminish.

I have always prided myself at being good at time management and I have always been acutely aware of how much time it takes to do things. Even more so, now that I am a mom.

During any given day, I feel like I have such few short precious windows of opportunity to get anything accomplished in the way of household tasks or personal things. Simple tasks like: brushing my teeth, scarfing down a sandwich, folding laundry, returning a phone call, paying a bill, catching up on bad TiVo, or my favorite, while you nap activity: BLOGGING. Now you know why I’m posting this at almost 1:30 in the morning!

Most of the household chores can obviously wait, but some of the personal items are downright vital to my well being and sanity and I’ll be damned if it’s nearly impossible some days to squeeze it all in when you DON’T nap. All I can say is Holy Frustration… for both of us!

Sure, I can do some things while you are awake, but you are usually right underfoot wanting (and deserving) my undivided attention and if I’m not giving it to you, I feel extremely guilty. It’s a never-ending struggle because once you go down for the night, I’m running around like a chicken with their head cut off doing things, when I really want to be spending time with your dad or relaxing before it all starts up again tomorrow.

I know I’m not the only mom that feels this way, so I’m curious, how do you balance it all? The meals, laundry, phone calls, grocery shopping, planning, organizing, personal time, heck, even relationships? Especially you moms with more than one child? I’m anxious to hear how you keep on good terms with time.

The best is yet to be.

Day 80/100

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The Most Important Meal Of The Day

Posted on April 20, 2010 Written by Tonya

After my post, Worst Mother Of The Year, I realize now that I should be keeping an on going list of things that I swore I wouldn’t as a new mom. Something tells me it is going to get worse before it gets better…

Today’s act actually shocked me.

Okay, “shocked” is a bit of an exaggeration.

You wanted nothing to do with your high chair or bananas and cereal so, I followed you around the living room with your breakfast in order to get you to eat it. It worked… for you and made me mad at myself. While I do believe that breakfast is the most important meal of the day and I’m happy that I found a way to get you to eat it, I don’t want to start a bad habit.

This got me thinking about some of the other things I have done as a mother (so far) that I’m not proud of:

Letting you play with my iPhone.
Talking entirely too much about poop… color, texture, size. Blech!
Leaving you sleeping in the car (gulp!) while I ran into pick up my dry cleaning, a sandwich and pay for gas. Not all at the same time.
Putting you in a shopping cart without a seat protector.
Wiping your nose and then wiping my hand clean on the jeans that I’ve been wearing for three days in a row.
See above about the jeans. I have worked my butt off to get back into my pre-pregnancy jeans and am proud to say that I now weigh what I did at my first OB appointment, but I live in yoga pants, tank tops and hoodies. I hardly ever wear make up and most of the time, I smell like you. I never thought I’d let myself go.

Before becoming a mother, I had many ideas and ideals about motherhood being the perfect mother. I thought that some moms were just lazy, ill-informed or both and that I was clever enough to break the cycle. I was going to break new ground. It didn’t take long to learn that all those impressions I had were going to go right out the window.

I know that once I let go of these ideals and stop trying to be perfect, I will relax enough to enjoy my son and be the mother I was meant to be.

For all you moms out there, what did you always vow that you’d never do as a parent, but find yourself doing today?

By the way, stay tuned, the list above is sure to grow. 🙂

The best is yet to be.

Day 56/100

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Whale Watching

Posted on February 10, 2010 Written by Tonya

You were measured for the Doc Band today and it was hands down the hardest thing I have had to witness you experience to date. Yes, even worse than the catheter you had to get when we were having your kidneys checked out.

A gauze mask called a stockinette was fitted over your entire head and face and you were placed on a metal perch and photographs were taken of your head from every angle. Technically, this process is called Digital Surface Imaging and it uses 15 high-resolution cameras to capture a 360-degree image.

You screamed bloody murder as a loud cartoon played in front of you and one clinician held your arms close to your sides and another waved a brightly colored wand above your head. You were scared and had no idea what was happening to you and there was not a thing I could do about it. I couldn’t talk to you or touch you, for fear of you moving, so I just sat in the back of the room and sobbed.

Your custom fit Doc Band will arrive in two weeks.

On the lighter note, today we also went for a great walk on our beautiful beach with our Mommy & Me friends, Jenn and her son Tristan. We saw a whale! It was gorgeous day.

The best is yet to be.

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The Good The Bad And The Ugly

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Lost In Translation

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Guilty As Charged

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Desperately Seeking Mary Poppins

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Boobs

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I’m Losing It

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Stunt Man

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Time Is Of The Essence

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The Most Important Meal Of The Day

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Whale Watching

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