Turning Two


You would think after having two years experience (that’s 730 days) of watching my child grow and develop, I would have come to terms with him inevitably getting older. I have not.  I have made strides in the right direction (acceptance), but my heart still aches a bit with each inch and milestone he conquers.

O’s second birthday is approaching, and if I let myself breathe that all in, it could seriously knock the wind out of me.  My husband has been asking me what’s wrong with me lately.  He can tell something is “off.”  I keep saying it’s my stomach.  I just don’t feel right. Well, when something is bothering me, that’s where the stress goes.  Right to my gut.  I’ve not been purposely lying to him.  I actually didn’t realize the correlation until I started writing this post.  But that’s what’s “got” me.  My baby is growing up and there is no way to stop the clock.

That’s not to say that I want to actually stop the clock.  Of course not.  I want to see him grow and thrive and become the man he is meant to be.  It’s just the pangs of loss that hit me occasionally.  Sometimes gently and sometimes like a smack across the face.  Like now, as this 2 year marker approaches.  I understand how precious this whole process is.  The act of raising, caring for, and unconditionally loving this being that was created with such love.  It is awesome and truly the best thing I have ever done in my life. And it’s all flying by so quickly.  I believe this is one of the big reasons why people have more children.  The feeling is so wonderful, at times, euphoric.  Of course you want to  make it last.  So you have another.  And maybe another.  Unless you can’t.  Unless it maybe just isn’t in the cards.

Ah, and there it is.  The crux of the matter.  I didn’t really think about O’s birthday coinciding with the end of our “have another baby” project.  But the months have passed and with each one came a reminder that I’m not going to have another child.  I promised I wouldn’t be upset.  I promised.  But as I sit here wiping away my tears, I’m finding my promise is proving to be empty, however well intentioned.  I won’t let myself spiral into a dark place over it, however.  I have far far too much to be thankful for to let that happen.  But I think my not allowing sadness over it was a mistake.  That’s a ridiculous notion, really.   Not allowing sadness?  It’s just silly.  As if my heart has a choice.  Ha.

So I’ll go on, filling my my mind and days with work and projects.  I’ll spin more plates than usual, no doubt.  But I will be aware of my particular sadness and honor it.  And I suppose, if I need to cry, well then, I’ll cry.  At least I won’t be denying my feelings.  If you read my blog, you know that I believe everything happens the way it is supposed to.  And I don’t believe in regrets.  I believe in lessons.  But this advanced maternal age mommy wishes perhaps she didn’t wait quite so long to have a child.  Maybe there would have been time for another?   A tough lesson to swallow in hindsight.  But then, perhaps another child was never in the cards.  You can really think it to death.  Who really has time for that?

So as my little O gets ready to turn two, we will celebrate his time so far on this earth and the immense  joy he brings us….with a Sesame Street theme, no less.  We are having a combined birthday with his second cousin, Nora, who was born two days after him.  Lots of Elmo and Abby Caddaby!  Alphabet cookies, crayons and Cookie Monster fudge!  I’ll take lots of pics for a fun party blog.  And I won’t forget for a moment all that I have.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight, and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Thanks for reading. Xo

Car Seat Cry Baby


I feel ridiculous.  It’s silly to even write about.  But it’s been the big change that’s been haunting me all week.  O has graduated from his infant car seat to his big boy car seat.  The car seat  that will stay with him until he doesn’t need one anymore. (Boy,  THAT day isn’t gonna be pretty for this Mama.)  I feel idiotic for telling you, but I cried the day we switched his car seat.  I literally shed tears.  What the Hell?

Why can’t I be like the Moms who celebrate these milestones with a saucy “thank God!” and move on.  It just seems like it’s all going by in a flash.  Like he is growing with reckless abandon.  And there is nothing I can do to stop it.  So I’m emotional.  That’s not a stretch for me, as  anyone who knows me can attest. But I’m more so now.  How will I navigate all the changes and milestones to come?

I recognize that I am not only sad about this recent event, but I am fighting it every step of the way.  I found myself saying today, “It’s just so hard now.  I hate going out!”  Let me tell you since O was about three weeks old, I have taken him out, one place or another, almost every single day.  It’s rare that we don’t have some adventure to go on each day.  But I have been spoiled. I had a Graco Click and Connect Travel System.  I’d get him set in his car seat in the house..carry it out to the car, click him in and we were off.  When we got to wherever we were going, I’d take the car seat out and click it into the super easy stroller frame.  I had it down to a science.  And O liked it.  We had our rhythm.  Now, I have to carry him out to the car….get him into his seat whilst bent over into the car (not easy)…and when I arrive wherever the hell it is I thought it was a good idea to go to, I have two choices.  I either get the very light, but yet ridiculously cumbersome, umbrella stroller (which is a ludicrous name, because when it rains, it will NOT keep baby,  or you, dry.  In fact, quite the opposite).  Or I get my jogger stroller…which weighs 30 lbs.  So I hoist one of these contraptions out of the car and then hoist my 27lb baby boy out of the car seat, in a hunched over manner, so as not to hit my head or the baby’s head on the car.  I try to remember not to lift with my back.  I try to remember to use my abdominal muscles…yeah, right.  All while O is not, I repeat, NOT loving this new routine.  Then I have to strap him into the stroller, hang the diaper bag on the handles…..and get inside wherever it is I was dumb enough to venture off to in the first place.  If there are multiple stops, I’d like to shoot myself.  If there is rain involved I think I will just stay home.

Everyone says it will get easier when he can get in and out himself.  Well, that’s a long time away, I think. I am blessed with a beautiful boy, but he is a big boy for his age.  He became too long for the infant seat over a month ago. I started to feel like some Good Samaritan Mommy was going to report me for having my son in a seat he was clearly outgrowing.  And because he is young…I miss seeing him when we are strolling along.  And I swear, he doesn’t like it.  He might wonder “Where is Mommy?”  as he faces forward in this strange new world.  Right?  Or is it just me, fighting it every step of the way?  I could have sworn today that he was feeling scared and alone as he faced forward, rolling along….but he actually had a very wet diaper.  A wet diaper that I was out of tune with, because I was so convinced he was unhappy to be facing forward.  Because this Mommy was unhappy her baby was facing forward.  Unhappy that her baby was gaining independence.  That he was, indeed, moving on.  I don’t like it.  I don’t like it one bit.

I’m going to brood about this some more, I fear.  They say that time goes by quicker as you get older.  Have you heard that? I think it’s true.  But I think when you are older you cherish the time more.  I know that when I was younger I took time for granted.  Not the case now.   I am SO aware that this time with O is flying by.  If one more well meaning, but yet unsoliciated, granny tells me, “It goes by so fast,” I’ll scream….”I KNOW!!! STOP REMINDING ME!!”  Like right in her face! And really loud! It also doesn’t help that this all coincides with that time of the month for me.  When it rains it pours! Just don’t use the umbrella stroller that day.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight…and I’ll try to get a hold of myself.  Remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is certain she is screwing it up.  🙂