Summer Saturday

A warm and wonderful day at Walnut Beach in Milford, CT with Adam and Gayle. Genevieve discovered sand and I received a belly and bikini-bottom full. The day zoomed by. We're all wiped out here. I want to close my eyes and zzz away.

Hugs and Squeezes

Well, I did it. I saw my first movie in over a year. Cinderella Man. It’s one of those stories that you know is going to work out in the end, but during it, you’re simply biting your nails off, as cousin Alison said she did.

Now I’m home and Genny is still sleeping. I just wolfed down four large chocolate chip cookies, which always makes me feel nauseous afterward. So, why do I do things that make me feel like puking? Ah, perhaps a good question for all of us. Some people have alcohol and some have chocolate.

I just looked at the headlines and was reading about the young woman missing in Aruba. How often do these situations turn out well? It makes me grateful for having survived as long as I have. When I think back to the risky lifestyle of my younger days, to the days when I traveled by myself and somehow always managed to hook up with someone. There are always men waiting for young lonely women on vacation—waiting to be their vacation Sweetie.

I remember when I was on vacation I was always ready to be swept off my feet by a local guy or two, and they usually obliged. These travel romances made me feel sexy and desired. I loved the power I felt I was exerting. The thrill of the warm, breezy air. Freshly sunned skin. Unfamiliar places were begging for me to drop my normal self and allow the Kyrea (my stripper persona) in me to come out.

Someday Genny will be a young woman discovering relationships and all the fun stuff that goes along with the territory. I can only hope that she makes wiser choices than I did. How do we protect our little girls—our babies? We have to let them go at some point, to face that huge open floating bubble of an endless world.

I’m going to hug her and squeeze her tomorrow. I’m not ready to even think about letting go yet.

Hot

It was hot today. Very hot. I am wondering if after having a baby the heat bothers you more. I have always begged people to turn down the air-conditioning, but now I’m roaring about the AC not being cranked enough.

Genevieve only needs to wear simple little one-piece outfits now, which is a relief. No more coats, hats and mittens to yank on her. Of course, now Genny needs sun block applied, a sunhat and lots of drinking water.

I visited Lloyd, the hypnotherapist, while Genny was at the babysitter’s today. We talked about what holds me back from making more money in life. Some very interesting issues came out having to do with family and those thoughts we all have that get buried deep inside our psyches. When you think about how many times we absorb the negative messages of our family and society when we are young without being able to control the impact on our lives, it’s overwhelming.

I have always felt that I’m not allowed to have more in life because there are others who have less than me. Wallowing in guilt for what I have obviously isn’t productive, but I have never been able to free myself from this belief. I hold myself back because I resent those women I see who have everything I want and I don’t want to be resented one day.

I’ve got to take action to improve my life no matter what my feelings are about what others will think of me. As long as I share some of what I make, I shouldn’t feel guilty.

And I want a nanny. There, I said it loud and proud. I want to have my own life along with being a mother. For anyone who doesn’t understand that, well, phooey to them. Phooey to all.

From my own life to Genny’s we jump. Genevieve gave me a real kiss on the lips this afternoon. And she hugged me a bunch of times. Laid her head down on my lap. Rubbed her sweaty head and hair against my arm.

I’m a mom. But I’m also so much more.

This Summer

Suburbia soothed my savage mommaness. I am home in the Heights and feeling much more relaxed and at ease.

Genevieve swam for the first time today. Well, maybe swam isn’t the right word, but she did splash around in Grandpa’s pool. And so did Mommy. I was very impressed that I made it into the water up to my shoulders. I usually don’t do well with cold water.

And since I was doing the whole suburban super saver center thingie, I also hit the local Target, which much to my great delight, had nestled within it, a Starbucks. I feel very madcap and carefree when I pull out my Starbucks gift card to pay.

Genny and I were both very excited to see Nick when he came home from work, perhaps Genny a little too much so, because she couldn’t fall asleep tonight. Nick tried to put her down for half-an-hour while I cooked dinner, but to no avail, so Genny had a second dinner of green beans. She finally passed out at nine o’clock.

I’m feeling very revved up and hyper. I’ve got about twenty tasks to do in the next couple of weeks. I have to take the GRE as a formality for Grad school, but I still feel the need to do well. Looks like I’ve got some serious math review to tackle.

And I need to get some writing done on an essay. And I need to figure out what Lit class I’m taking in the fall. Then there’s organizing, ebaying, working on my new website, freeing myself from depression, enjoying being a newlywed, washing the dishes, putting away Genny’s toys, planning a Mommy and Me yoga class and returning emails. And that’s just what is on the tip of my mind.

I think I will make a trip to Connecticut an every week experience for the summer. It will do every member of my family some good.

WalMart

This is what my life has come to. Standing in line at WalMart staring at a bag of fried pork skins and finding myself actually interested in whether "US" magazine's cover story about Tom and Katie, "Getting Married", is true.

Welcome to Suburbia.

I'm in Connecticut tonight at my mom and stepdad's place. This is where I find myself standing during my rare time off. A super saver center. Buying stuff to organize all of Genny's toys.

I smell WalMart pizza and I feel scared because it smells good.

It's 9:30 pm and I can't believe how many babies are here. They all seem to be eating cheese doodles.

Of course, I chose the wrong line. I've been in this line for twenty minute while the manager stands at his little desk with his, "How may I help you?" vest on, but he's not helping me.

Genny cried her little head sweaty again tonight. She didn't take her afternoon nap and did not want to take her evening sleeptime either. Eventually she fell asleep on my chest and I was able to place her down.

I think I'll go savor some quiet time before I pass out.

Savory

Nick was saying last night how people probably think the exact opposite of what I think they think about me. My parents probably couldn’t be prouder of me now. I mean, I was a stripper. Look at me now. Married to a great guy with a job and I’m a mom. I’m finally living on the straight and narrow, or is it straight as an arrow?

Earlier today I walked along the choppy sidewalk, eyes glazed over. And it hit me. I am a zombie mommy. Would that be a zommy or mombie?

I am the living dead. A mommy who has lost herself. Sure, I have moments when I have me, but increasingly I find myself depressed, missing from life and unable to really enjoy my daughter.

If what everybody is saying to me is true, “Enjoy this age. It goes by so fast.” Why am I missing out on the joy?

Or is the reason people give this advice because they felt the same way I did when entrenched in the day-to-day of baby caring, but now, looking back, they wish they had savored it because it’s gone.

But then, what is there to savor? Nick enjoys watching her discover and learn, even when it’s through emptying out a jumbo size box of Band-Aids from Costco.

I have such a hard time letting chaos reign. I’ve spent my life trying to control chaos, so I find it difficult now to just let it happen and see it as education for the baby. I feel a need to put away all those Band-Aids right away. And when Genny grabs something and cruns away with it, like her doll’s plastic pink fork, I have to chase after her and grab the aforementioned stolen object and return it to it’s room of departure.

Why have I chosen this time of my life to get neurotic about cleanliness? I couldn’t wait until Genny goes to college? I think it has more to do with the letting go of how things were pre-baby. I may have to get used to the fact that life will never be the same. I’m going to be running around for the next eighteen years at least. There’s no slowing down for a while. Unless I get better at making the time.

Remember to make time for Mommy.

A Mommy On The Edge

In case you were wondering, babies sweat from their heads. I know this because Genny was just screaming in her crib with her hair completely drenched. Nick called the nurse line, but it’s okay, she’s just a hot, sweaty and cranky baby.

And I’m just a hot, sweaty and cranky mommy.

Today was supposed to be a relax day, but it turned into a workday. We went to Nick’s Cousin Bob’s and I decided I would take our two humungous dirty laundry bags. Well, it turns out Bob keeps the dryer on the delicate setting so that his pants won’t shrink. I spent about three hours doing laundry.

As the day wore on, Genny became increasingly cranky and feisty. She was crunning (crawl-running) all around Bob’s three-bedroom house. In the spare bedroom, which Bob has now filled with hand-me-down toys, Gen was molesting a giant Pooh Bear by jumping on him and rolling and pushing.

She got to play with her cousin, Anna, who is 15 months old. They really didn't interact much though, except when Genny offered her some cheddar cheese rice cake.

Then I had my mommy on the edge moment while I was folding the still damp laundry in the basement, chasing Genny for the umpteenth time to the unfinished section of the cellar and feeling alone and miserable. Nick came in from working on the minivan and I was just like, “She is driving me insane.” I think there might have been an expletive in there, too. No, actually, I know for sure that there was an expletive in there.

I feel so frustrated with myself when I lose my patience with her. I can just hear everyone who hears me complaining about motherhood whispering that I’m a bad mother. But I’m not! I’m an awesome mother.

Why do I care so much about what other people think about me? What is this image that I think others have of me that I’m so afraid of tarnishing? People probably already think I’m a weirdo and a bad mom, so I should probably just relax and be who I am. A mommy on the edge.