Confessions of a modern Mama*

It is almost shocking to me that I have become the sort of person that has “write” on their to-do list. Usually there is always a bit of space somewhere within 48 hours (at least) that I can slide into the comfort of writing. It recharges me, connects me, and stimulates me in a way that helps me move forward. Sometimes writing is the only thing I will have to look forward to that is mine, all mine. But life this week has been nonstop and while I find this thrilling it does bring me to a point where I inevitably wake up at 3 in the morning on a saturday with this drive to sit at my computer and plug in.

Really I just don’t want to not chronicle and then look back and wonder what the fuck I was doing this week in 2009.

So what have we done? um. I can’t really remember (see, this is the reason why one shouldn’t try and write and 3am. The urge is here but my mind, clearly isn’t). I do know that I jotted several post titles down with the bold intention of writing something fab. Maybe a peak into those titles will fill you in on the week.

Titles of posts that I jotted down this week:

1. The Boy Who Cried Poop (I am sure this was going to be something stupid about the grunting noises W makes all effing day long. The kind of noises that have me cringing at every diaper change only to be greeted with no poo. I’m sure many of you are sad to not have a poo post.)

2. In search of entertainment (This was going to be about our evenings here and how we went from the kind of people with DVR’s and a bajillion tv channels to the kind of people that now have hulu accounts and rabbit ears.)

3. Beltway Bananas (This was, I am sure, meant to be a post about my million and one panic attacks that I have about driving or riding in a car that is driving on the beltway.)

4. Who let the dog out? (Clearly a post about the crazy negotiations that one has about whose turn it is to take the dog out.)

5. Pink is the new blue (A post about having a son that wears pink and then dealing with the world at large that sees this as defining. And getting annoyed at how annoyed I can get over saying, “He’s a boy.” Because does it really matter? But it seems like in some cases people really stress over how to approach you when you have a baby wearing a blue hat and  salmon colored winter-wear. And you know I am a people pleaser and like to have everyone at ease so it is a bit painful to see the inner dialogue of people that feel compelled to remark on W when we are out. You can literally feel their angst as they can’t figure out whether or not to tell me that W is “beautiful” or “handsome”. In my eyes he is both.)

6. Confessions of a modern Mama* (Oh look! It’s the actual title I ended up using. And yet it sort of makes me roll my eyes. Modern! ha! Basically I wanted to write about my random moments of feelings that seem to have the same subtitle of: This isn’t how you thought it would be. You know, a catch all post where I share how I am now supplementing with up to 3 bottles a day in order to keep up with W’s growth spurt. And then say that I am surprised at how much I am ok about supplementing. Not that I ever meant to be one way or another, but it is really a perfect sort of thing for us to both breast feed and formula feed at this point.

Speaking of growth spurt- W turned 8 months old a few days ago and almost overnight he morphed into a big baby. He is also now a boy that can not just be plonked down while I wash dishes or start the laundry. He is moving and scooting and lunging and flinging and reaching and grabbing and just to look at his face and see how he processes things and the world around him is glorious.

Almost gets the plate (& I do have photos of him HAVING the plate but the look on Mother’s face is something she would kill me for sharing, but I am sure you can imagine what your Mother would look like if she was trying to pose and not be a part of some crazy plate smashing moment)

Would like to give you some of his bagel

Tagged as: about a boy