So Far, So Good

I have now officially been a Stay-At-Home Mom for two weeks and—hold on, The Bunny just woke up—okay, I'm back. These two weeks been amazing! I had no idea I would enjoy this as much as I do.

Of course, life is less stressful now. It seems like that should go without saying; I mean, this is practically a vacation, but I wasn't sure what to anticipate. The fact of the matter is that while I have to run a household on a tighter budget than I did with two incomes, I have the whole day to run it. I have all day to accomplish the tasks that I used to try to get done in a couple hours. I do have to get things done with the interference of a toddler who likes to turn our house into an obstacle course, so it's a good thing I have so much time.

Now, the last time I wasn't working I was excessively pregnant, so I didn't do much more than watch Battlestar Galactica and eat gummy worms. This time around, I'm trying to make the most of my time. I have a to-do list app (Do It Tomorrow) on my phone and absolutely anything I think of goes on there. I don't rely on my memory at all. From the time Peter leaves for work until the time he comes home, I work through that list, trying to get as much crossed off as possible. I feel like I'm getting a lot accomplished and am really pleased to have a clean house for the first time in ages. Also, I actually have time to get out and play with Lydia, which brings me to the second big reason this time at home has been such a blessing.

I feel, quite unexpectedly, like I've gotten to know my daughter on a whole new level. It wasn't as if I caught her doing things that she's never done before, but more that I didn't realize the extent to which her "little quirks" were a substantial part of her personality. She's intensely affectionate. She's clever but rebellious. She's more mature than I was prepared for—closer to a child now than a baby.

It frightens me to realize how much I missed as a working parent. I'm in favor of working moms. I've always wanted to be a working mom. I would never claim that you have to stay at home to know your child; however, even though I know others make it work, it seems clear that I was not.

I don't want to delude myself that this is always going to be easy or that I'll enjoy it forever (I am still looking for part-time work, after all), but right now I'm feeling the freedom that comes from being in the right place at the right time in your life. This not working works for me.

Awkward Motherhood: My First Mother's Day

I issued an executive directive this weekend: We are not going to be celebrating Mother's Day in our house.

I mean no disrespect to the rest of you who are into that scene, but as for me and my house, we're going to lay low and hide from the universe. Holidays and I do not get along. There's always too much pressure for the day to be perfect, or if not perfect, at least better than average. It's tempting fate. Holidays are, from my perspective, looking out at a brewing thunder storm and announcing that it looks like a lovely day to fly a kite. You're just begging to be struck down, charred and crispy.

The last thing I need in my year is another holiday and in my opinion Mother's Day is the most manufactured holiday of them all. At least Valentine's day is associated with a saint. Mother's Day is just a day where culture guilts you into proving your appreciation for your mom (and let's face it, if your mom didn't think you loved her the rest of the year, there's no way you're going to turn it around in one day with some grand gesture).

I will spare you the details of my Mother's Day weekend, I don't want to get started complaining, but I will say that it started out with our dryer dying and included losing a paycheck, spilling milkshake in my car, and cutting my finger on a knife. These were no permanent disasters and if this were just any weekend it would have just been stressful, but you add the we're-going-to-have-a-pleasant-relaxing-day-or-die-trying pressure of a holiday and the celebration became a curse.

So while Peter and I lay in bed, absolutely beaten down by the day, I told him, "We will not be celebrating Mother's Day any more. Lydia can make homemade cards until she's too old for it to be cute, but beyond that, just throw me a 'Thanks, hun' throughout the year and we'll call it even."

I was single long enough to realize that simply being a Mom is itself a gift. And by the way, thanks guys, I love it.

Awkward Motherhood: How do you strap a car seat to a canoe?

It's that time of year, time to realize I procrastinated too long in planning my vacation. I had my reasons but none of those are relevant now. Spring is upon us and summer is closing in and all I've decided is that we don't have the budget to fly to California (but I'm still checking just in case that changes, Tiffany).

What's making this decision even more difficult than usual is that in addition to my normal indecisiveness, I have to accommodate an infant as traveling companion. I love my bunny, but she is not a very flexible traveller.

All the things I was unable to do last summer while in my last trimester of pregnancy are, of course, what I want to do most: tubing, canoeing, riding roller coasters. Heck, I even suddenly want to go horseback riding for the first time since I was 9. None of these can be done while carrying around an infant!

All the vacation activities I've done in past years have been pretty leisurely affairs.

• 2007, Dallas—visiting relatives, aquarium, and the state fair
• 2008, Panama City, FL—the beach and mini-golf (our crazy honeymoon)
• 2009, Fort Worth—zoo, art museum, and botanical garden
• 2010, Corpus Christi—the beach and aquarium

Last summer, being the size and shape of a manatee made me really appreciate the opportunity to do anything more active than stroll on level ground or sit in a pool of water. I was so looking forward to this year of possibilities when I could go anywhere and do anything!

Not so fast, Amelia Earhart. In your fantasy of white water rafting down the Colorado (or tubing the Guadalupe), where exactly was Lydia?

Oh, right.

So, I guess it's another year of walking around looking at interesting paintings, flowers, animals, fish, etc. Whatever's easy to do with a baby strapped to your chest. We can certainly go back to the beach, sit in the waves, and try to keep Lydia from ingesting half the beach. I guess we'll have to leave more thrilling adventures for next year.

Awkward Motherhood: I'll take my shampoo dry.

I don't know what morning routines are like for my other moms. Most of my mommy friends are SAHMs, but even though I imagine they have all the time they need to get through their daily routines, I doubt that's actually true. I for one, am a mess in the mornings. Don't get me wrong, the morning is my favorite part of the day—I work evenings so it's the only time of day I actually get to spend with Lydia—but I always have more I want to do than time to get it done (I still have a box of Christmas decorations I need to put away!). So my beauty routine is hardly a priority.

While I've never been the type who had to look flawless before she left the house—and you should have seen me in high school!—I still try to pull myself together each morning. I don't want to give up and wear that beat-down mommy uniform, but with a baby in the house, it is tempting. Let me be frank, I consider it a good day when I have enough time to shower, so I'm kind of a sucker for anything that will shave time off my morning routine.

My latest discovery is dry shampoo from Suave.

It was only a couple bucks at HEB, so I figured I wouldn't be out too much if it didn't work. So far I have to admit it's been exactly what I hoped. Basically it's like baby powder in a spray can; you spray it on the roots of your hair and it soaks up the oil. If your daughter spits up in your hair, this is not going to help. Still, not having to wash and dry my hair so often probably saves me 30 minutes a week. That's not extreme, but that's an extra load of laundry!

Hopefully, this suggestion might help one of you get a few minutes back, too.

Awkward Motherhood: Diapers everywhere!

This morning I woke up to a clean stash of diapers! ^_^ Joy! I washed diapers last night and threw them in the dryer before bed, so when I woke up today, I had a pile of clean diapers spread out on the living room floor! I can say without any sarcasm that this was a great start to my day.

I normally hate doing laundry, but for some reason diaper laundry is one of the parenting chores I cherish. Maybe it's just because you don't have to worry about diapers getting wrinkled, but I think there might be something else to it. There's something about drawers filled with clean diapers that makes me feel secure.

I imagine surrounding myself in cottony riches—stacks of diapers everywhere—like Scrooge McDuck did with his gold.

I know it's silly, but I love knowing that I have more than enough diapers to make it through the day. I guess that says more about my issues with trusting in God's provision than about the value of reusable diapers.

I voluntarily admit that this is a difficult area for me. I mean, one of the major reasons I went back to work after Lydia was born was because I didn't want to test God's provision. I believe God will take care of us, but. . . I like having a little wiggle room in the budget. This has always been a weakness of mine, but having a child to take care of only exacerbates this problem.

This is definitely an aspect of my character I should work on, but for now, I've got my clean piles of diapers all over the house and I'm happy.

Awkward Motherhood

I often repeat the saying, men become men with kids, but women become moms.

Being a mom is so far removed from any other experience of your life that nothing can prepare you for the new role. It's an all-consuming obsession. Every thought you have and every ounce of energy is given to this kid who doesn't know or care that you exist. Every task you do in a day has to be redone a dozen times before the day ends. It's an unrequited love, an obsequious devotion, and a Sisyphean endeavor. And I'm totally stinking it up.

There aren't enough hours in the day to get everything done let alone spend time enjoying the kid I'm raising. And yet, the mush-minded 6-month-old is really the only person I'm fit to associate with. My conversations regularly turn to the topic of diapering. I go to work with baby food on my clothes. I pick my lingerie based on how easy it will be to nurse in. I'm terrible company for anyone more sophisticated than Lydia.

And you may say, "Well you just need more Mommy friends." And to that I respond with a question: how many new moms does it take to screw in a lightbulb? Three—one to spend all her energy researching lightbulb brands and green alternatives, then decide it's easier just to sit in the dark; one to wander around the store shopping for hours only to come home and realize she forgot to buy the lightbulb; and one to actually buy the bulb, change it, then break down in tears over how much better the other moms are doing.

Ugh. I'm exhausted just typing this.