Does being a mother mean I'm less of a woman?

...or that I am more of a woman?

I've just read an article where the author seemed genuinely sad to hear that Beyoncé said her proudest moment was when she gave birth to her daughter Blue. The article sounds like something many people on our society needs to hear, and I'm not judging the author's point of view at all. In fact, I think she's quite on point with many things, but it made me a bit uncomfortable.

So what, if it is Beyoncé's biggest achievement? Is that good? Is that bad?

I think it says a lot of our society that we get worked up (in bigger or lesser measure) about stuff like this.

On one hand, I think that it is normal for a woman to feel most proud of the moment her body, what is undeniably herself and that society tries to put down at every chance (let's not deny this, because that's how it is), has done something unbelievable, something so amazing that we wouldn't believe it if we hadn't grown so used to it. She's created a whole new human being inside herself. She's generated life. And, if that wasn't enough, she's pushed it out (or let herself be cut out) so that new life can belong to world: a new generation, a new life, a new incredible miracle. What's not to be proud about? It a f***ing miracle!

And then, on the other, I think: but does that make her more of a woman? Does that mean that if she chose not to have kids would she be less? Well, duh, NO. She was a woman from the moment she was born. A whole, complete, amazing woman. She can get more woman-y than that. Having children doesn't make a woman, it just makes you a mom.

But then...

Are you less of a mom if your proudest moment isn't the day you gave life to your children? Well, duh, NO (again). You are a human being, free to choose what you are proud of and what you are not, and how to rate all the things you are proud of (and there should be many!). Some of us, like me and like Beyoncé, will put it at he top of our lists. What that means, though, is that we're f***ing proud of it. No more, no less. We're not less proud of any other achievements. And the moms who are prouder of other achievements? Are they inferior moms? Well, duh, NO (yet again). They just are prouder of something else. And do you know what I say to that?

Thank you.

Because if we were all proud of the same stuff, doing the same stuff, valuing the same stuff... we'd all be clones and it'd be no fun at all. I may not always understand you, but so what? You may not always understand me anyway.

And it's okay.

Oath's Mom

 

(sorry for the rant, and for the starred swearing... it just came right out of my heart, and sometimes it is a dirty-mouthed heart.)

Menu Plan Monday, 29 feb. - 6 mar.

I won't lie: one of the things that went out the window when I got sucked way too deep into this illness was menu planning. This meant that our nutrition went downhill too, because it meant that, as we had nothing planned, I would cook nothing and we'd make do with scraps or junk food. Thankfully, Oath had lunch (the big meal around here) at daycare, and now he's having it at kindergarten, so he did not suffer much from our bad diet. I knew that shouldn't be happening, but I had no energy to change it, so that was the state of things for about two and a half years.

I tried to start that habit again and again, but I never could keep it going for longer than a couple of weeks at a time. Partner wasn't particularly interested in helping me plan it out, and when I did he wasn't particularly interested in cooking his share, either, which coupled with my lack of motivation... well, let's say it was doomed from the beginning.

But then, I started my bullet journal.

I started it because I felt the need to do something towards organization without being too tied up to one strict method. It doesn't make much sense, I know, but it has somehow worked for me. Since then, in January, meal planning started to happen again. At first, it was slow-going, but then I found my pace and I am so glad I did! We spend much less, we eat much better, and there is less stress and frustration for all involved.

So, this week's menu plan is:

Monday:

• "A la cubana" rice
• Fish sticks + red cabbage salad 

Tuesday:

• Spaghetti carbonara
• Nachos 

Wednesday:

• Oven-baked mackerel with veggies
•  Hot-dogs

Thursday:

• Peas and ham
• Noodle soup 

Friday:

•  Mushroom and shrimp cream
• Chickpeas with "chorizo"

Saturday:

 We've planned a day-trip with Oath and his cousin/our nephew, L., so we won't have lunch at home. Probably not dinner, either.

Sunday: 

• Macaroni with tuna.
• French omelettes   

 Linking up at I'm an Organizing Junkie's weekly "Menu Plan Monday".

Oath's Mom

Coming back

There's this weight in my chest that says I've been away too long.

The years have gone by, and things haven't gotten better. In fact, they got quite worse, so there's this need to get out of my mind just so I can see clearly what's happening inside it. Does it makes sense?

Long story short, life came over me like a bulldozer with the worst intentions, and without really noticing the exact moment where it all started to go downhill, I found myself buried deep in a depression that seemed too heavy to ever lift. It still feels like that: heavy, dark, sticky, like molasses. It doesn't want to let me breathe, move, or even think.
I am fighting, though. I am fighting for me, for Oath, for Partner, for all the good things that I once knew were out there (even if now I can't see them). I fight because I am stubborn. Letting go would be giving up, and the last part of me that is still me clings to the idea that I can't do that. Giving up is loosing, and the perfectionist in me doesn't want to hear about it, even when she's too ready to throw her hands on the air and admit defeat.

It's a blessing and a curse, having that Inner Perfectionist. She's keeping here all while drowning me in the molasses of depression.

I hope I will start writing again, probably in a much different tone than last time, because the things I need to tell now are wildly different. And I hope, too, that it will help me regain perspective, and see further than I am seeing now.

Love,
O.M.

Oath's Birthday

Some days ago my little boy turned one. I had expected it to be an emotional moment, or that at least I'd spend the evening thinking about all the feelings and pain and nerves that I went through one year ago. But nothing of this happened. I didn't even notice it when 07:07pm (the minute he was laid on my chest for the first time) went by. It was when we were coming back home, near 10pm, when I looked at him, so peaceful in his car seat, looking at the sunset and smiling at the trees, that I thought that he had been by my side for longer than a year.

So hard to believe, and yet so easy!

I had never cared about birthdays before, they just seemed like an excuse to celebrate and eat cake. Not that eating cake is bad, but... well, it wasn't something I looked forward to. Even my last birthday I felt like this. But with Oath's... Suddenly everything made sense. This is why we celebrate them! The joy of having lived a whole Sun revolution by the side of such an amazing human being was too big to not be celebrated.
And so I did.

I had wanted to host a party at our flat, and started preparing for it: I planned a cake, some party favors, invitations, some bunting to hang and under which to take a family photo... Things never go exactly as planned, though, so we ended up at my in-laws. Part of the reason was that my mom and my sisters were visiting, and our apartment is too small.

I had already done the crocheted bunting, which is now hanging on our bedroom's window, waiting patiently for the day Oath's room will be ready. Hopefully, that will be soon and he'll have a place full of color to play in (and our living room will have less toys on the floor!)

I also made the cake, and oh, was it good! It was just a striped yogurt and chocolate cake, with Nutella, straight from the jar, as frosting/glue (so yummy!). While decorating, I discovered that fondant is easier to work with than I expected, though it is extremely sweet.

And a batch of cookies following this recipe, but there are no photos: we ate them fast! I did not use vanilla (I don't like it, so I skip it in many recipes), and they tasted like pure cocoa, not too sweet. Perfect after the extra-sweet cake!

Everything else did not get done, but I don't mind much. Close family does not need an invitation, and I can still do the photo book with the best of this past year's photos. What is important is the joy, the celebration of the time spent together, the renewal of that mother's oath (which I may re-write soon, because life changes and grows and so do my promises to my little boy).

I love you, Oath. Happy birthday, my son.

Oath's mom

Halfway through

Half of my exams are done: if I've made it this far, I can make it till the end, right?

Apart from studying, there's plenty happening around here: we're getting ready for Oath's first birthday (presents to buy, bunting to finish, cakes to bake...), I'm trying to unload a bit of stress by baking (chocolate cookies, hot-dog buns... whatever works) and rearranging Oath's room, the parsley and the tomatoes are growing (I even used some parsley the other day! It was tasty), the basil refuses to sprout again... and even though my crochet hooks sit idle in the yarn basket, my mind is boiling with inspiration and new ideas.

Hopefully, once the exams are over, I'll have lots of time to update you on everything.

Meanwhile, it's study time.

Oath's mom

Mother's Day

The first Sunday of May it's mother's day around here. 

TV lottery adds remind us constantly from the middle of April onward, so you have to be really out of the loop to miss it. And, thankfully, Oath (or Partner, to be precise) didn't forget about it. I never thought I'd care about it, just the way I do not about my birthday, but I have to admit that I was so happy when Partner gave me the gift that it was ridiculous. I blame being far from my own family and friends, my "tribe".

So when yesterday Partner got home and handed me this, I was overjoyed:

A cherry tomato plant! Yay!!

Now, I do not like tomatos of any kind. They just do not taste right to me, and the textures are all weird and stuff. But I do not want Oath to dislike them just because I do, so I have to offer some to him. And what better to grow them myself, now that I'm starting a small windowsill garden and I am having so much fun with soil and seeds, pots and plants?

It's a gift that will keep on giving, to me and my family, and I love it.

To top it all off, Oath and I have gone for a walk at sunset: it was pretty warm (not wearing a coat felt so nice!) and the light was clear and golden, which made for some great photos. I couldn't resist taking one of our shadows, now that my little boy is about to start walking.

Mom, Oath and the stroller

It's been a lovely day.

So, happy mother's day to all the mommas, I hope your day has been good too!

Oath's Mom

What I have been up to lately

...is this:

Those tiny pajama-clad legs? Imagine them kicking: now mom's chin, now the box, now mom's chin, now the box...

No, not drawing (which I have also done, to get my mind away from everything for a while, and inspired by the lovely Naranjas y Zapatos blog. They're way better than mine, those drawings!). Studying. A lot. With a kid clinging to my leg/arm/head/boob (separation anxiety, anyone?) and books and piles of notes propped on a discarded box turned into a provisional desk. Because flat surfaces? In our home? There's none. It's clutterland around here.

But I'll be back as soon as I find a way to make routine, studies and blog work together!

 Oath's Mom

 PS. In case you noticed, I know I misspelled some names (specially Leonidas'). It bugs me a lot, but I did not have the time or strength to change it.

Traveling alone with a baby: 10 things to make it easier

I'll be honest: traveling with a baby is harder than traveling without. When there's two (or more!) adults, things are bearable, but when there's only one? Then things get real. I can't imagine how it'd be to travel one adult with more than one baby... or a baby and a toddler. But that's not what I know about, so lets get back to the one adult-one baby traveling, shall we?

As you know, I am able to visit my family often (and they are coming to see Oath quite often, too, so I've seen them a lot this past year! This is strange, but nice). Oath is getting to know them despite living so far away, and I am really happy for it. I know I am blessed to be able to do it, though, as not every parent who lives far from home can, so I take every opportunity to go now. Nobody knows when things are going to change, right? 

Partner, on the other hand, can't come with us every time. Because, thankfully, he has a job to keep: a job that pays, and that pay feeds us. And food always goes first (well, not really, but you know what I mean).

This means that I and Oath travel alone. Since we cross the security check one one airport until we get out of the door of the other airport, we're on our own. One (petite and skinny) girl and her (stubborn and vocal) little boy.

I arrive exhausted, but I've been learning some tricks that make it easier for everyone (Oath, me, the other passengers...):

1. Dress to walk, not to impress. This one is quite obvious, but I've seen some people at the airport that just make me wonder what they're there for. No stiletto heels, tight mini skirts, clothes too big they threaten to fall down... Tennis shoes, jeans and a polar fleece jacket (it can get chilly on the plane!) are my go-to clothes for traveling: simple and comfortable.
2. Dress the baby in easy to change clothes, too. Chances are there won't be any messy accidents, but if there are you'll be glad you didn't dress her in that cute dress that's so hard to button, or those jeans that fit him so well that they do not come out easily.
3. The less luggage, the better. Both checked-in and cabin. You'll probably have to carry a child most of the time, there's no need to burden yourself with even more weight!
4. Backpacks are your friends. I put everything I'll need in a backpack, and this way my two hands are always free. Or they would be if I didn't have a baby!
5. Put one change of clothing for the baby on the backpack... and one for you! There's no need to have some extra jeans in there, but a t-shirt is always welcome when that burp was a bit more than just a burp (it happens to the best of us, right?).
6. Forget the pram, use a baby carrier. If possible, a wrap, because they have no metal in them and so you can pass through the control arc with your baby strapped on you. I wouldn't trust a ring sling or another kind of carrier to not set the alarms off, but I believe that it is much easier to navigate through an airport with as few things as possible... and a pram is a pretty big thing! (also, I know I wouldn't be able to fold it to pass it through the X-rays... and there's so many people there I can't trust there'll be a security guard to help me!)
7. Bring some snacks for you and for baby if you are weaning. There's nothing that upset Oath more than having to wait in line at a cafe for me to get a sub or any other food, I don't know why. I try to bring some dry snacks (nuts, crackers, a sandwich...) and this way I can buy a bottle of water from vending machines (which Oath has nothing against).
8. Bring one special toy. I have one that Oath only plays with while we're traveling. He loves it, and never gets bored of it because it's always new to him. Something small, that you can pop easily in your bag, it's best (ours is a rattle, and while I am sure some other passengers do not like me much because of it, I know they would like us less if Oath started his "I am bored, I want to go somewhere!" screaming!)
9. Go with extra time, always. If you think you need one hour, plan for one and a half, and then add some. You'll end up waiting because you've been early, but that's much better than having to run because you are too late!
10. And, last but not least, do not be ashamed to ask for help. This can be hard for some of us: if you are like me, you feel that if you have to ask for help you are a failure as a mom. But no, you are not. You just know your limits. Getting your backpack from the overhead storage can be tricky with a baby in your arms or in a carrier, and so can be many other things. If you need help, ask for it. There'll be many people glad to help you!
11. And a bonus one: feed your baby at take-off and landing. It'll help with ear pain and, with a bit of luck, he'll fall asleep after and will sleep through part of the flight!

I have many more, but most of them might not work for other people: for instance, I always dress him with his cow socks, so when he kicks the bells in the cow heads jingle and he gets amused; or I let him have a pacifier, even though he does not use it, because he likes to chew it and play with it (it's like and extra special toy!) and it is hard to loose, what with being clasped to his clothes.

Any of you travel with babies often, too? What are your tips and tricks?

Oath's mom

"A" is for...

...daily planner!

It doesn't make much sense, does it? I've always called my daily planner (when I had one, that is), my agenda. And, of course, the fact that my name starts with "A" (which is what actually makes sense, isn't it?) also matters. You'll soon see why.

This year I had bought a cheap, boring daily planner. I wasn't using it much, but I found the need to use it grew as the days passed:

 When is Oath's next doctor appointment? I know I called a few days ago to check but now I can't remember...

 Oh, so you told me you wouldn't me coming for dinner today? I must have forgotten...

 If I just had a planner! Wait... I do, don't I?

These (or a variation of them) happened once too much and I decided I needed to start using the cheap, boring, not-so-pretty daily planner. What could I do to make me want to use it more?

Crochet!

Does the "A" make sense now?

I loved this color combination, even though I thought I wouldn't.

Two bookmarks.

Now, the execution isn't perfect, nothing near the perfect idea I had. The rainbow seven-strand braid I wanted to do as a bookmark was too chunky and I had to make two bookmarks, a regular and a four-strand braid... and now I don't know what to use one of them for (woe is me!). I didn't sew it all that well and it does not lay as nicely as it could...

But I love it.

I smile every time I look at it, and it's not only because rainbow-y colors make me happy. It is because for the first time in a (way too) long time, I've done something for me. I have believed that the effort to make me happy (even with something so simple as turning a boring "agenda" into a pretty one) was worth it.

Now if I could only find what to use the second marker for...

Oath's mom

My weight gain journey: How? A plan

Copyright (c)123RF Stock Photos

After pinpointing the need of doing something to gain weight, and analyzing why was I stuck in such a rut, came the moment I feared the most: how would I do it?

I needed to add calories to my already calorie-laden days, but did not want to do it by eating junk food. What was point of trying to get to a healthier weight by eating unhealthy food? The solution has been to increase the number of meals: from three (lunch, dinner and late night snack) to five (breakfast, lunch, mid-afternoon snack, dinner and late night snack). I have to admit that my breakfast is eaten late, more about the time of a mid-morning snack, or maybe an early lunch, because if I eat right as I get up I get sick, but it counts as a meal anyway.

This way, I can easily add around 800 calories more to my day. And surely 800 calories have to make a difference, right?

It's difficult, because I often forget to eat and revert to my old habits, but I'd say I'm doing well. Now I only have to wait and see what the scale says. Will something so easy work? Or will I need more help than that?

ETA: Also, I need to make sure I do not stop eating when I get angry/upset/too tired... as I'm known to do. This will be the most difficult thing, I know.

Oath's mom

One about plants

I miss spring.

I miss it so much that I am willing to sacrifice a tiny bit of time and effort to bring it into my life. But how?

First, I thought I might buy fresh flowers every once in a while, but then I realized that I always feel sad for the poor flowers, so it kind of defeated the purpose. Pity, because that would have been an easy one.

And then, it dawned on me: I had those packets of herb seeds hidden in a drawer. My MIL gave them to me as a gift when I moved here (more than two years ago!), after she heard me say that I would love to have some herbs on the windowsill. Useful herbs, full of scent and flavor, that I could cook with. Parsley, mint, basil, thyme... and some lavender, that it's not that tasty but smells divine.

I loved the gift, but never got around to plant them. First, it wasn't the season. Then, I was pregnant and doctors around here want pregnant women to stay away from dirt and gardening. Then, Oath was born and I had other things on my mind: to prove it, I'll admit that the basil my mother bought me around that time died a sad death because I couldn't remember to water it for the life of me.

But now... now I have things a bit more under control, I'm starting to develop some routines (or so I hope!), so I was sure I'd remember to water them. And I've been dreaming of green for months, so it seemed the best moment to do it.

So I grabbed two pots (the one of the poor old basil and another one), prepared the dirt while Oath looked at me and babbled incessantly, and tore open two of the packets: parsley, because I've heard it's pretty indestructible, and basil, to redeem myself. Also, those were the two that the packs said could be planted earlier in the year.

The parsley. You can even make out some seeds if you look closely.

The new basil in the old basil's pot. Fingers crossed this one will make it!

Now they are basking in the late winter sun, next to their neighbor the aloe, the only plant I've managed not to kill since Oath's birth... 

...except for a Phalaenopsis that, amazingly, thrived in my not-so-good care! My mother bought it a few days after Oath was born, full of flowers (with the basil... the poor basil) and it's been a fighter. The flowers lasted a month, and then it started growing new leaves and an aerial root (or whatever that is). Look at it now, so green! It gives me hope that I can do it.

We'll see if the parsley and basil actually sprout and make me happy. For now, I'm trying not to drown them!

Any of you miss spring too? What are you doing to lure it closer?

Oath's mom

My weight gain jouney: Why? A backstory.

Copyright (c)123RF Stock Photos

I have mentioned a few times I am on a diet to gain weight, but haven't explained much more about it. Now that I'm a bit more confident about the way I am walking this path I think it's time to share it with all of you. Because, maybe, it'll turn out I am not alone and that some of you can relate.

Before continuing, I feel the need to say that no, I do not have any eating disorder. Many people assume I do because I am skinny, but the truth is that, simply, I am skinny. I have always been. My sisters are skinny too, and my dad, and his grandfather before him, and probably a whole host of our ancestors. It is genetics, I know it, but that doesn't make it much easier.

What I do have, though, is a rather odd relationship with food.

I don't like eating, you see. There's food I love (Nutella, the Taiwanese sauce, Oreos, pesto sauce...) but eating itself... no. I'd rather be sleeping, or having a hot shower, or reading a book, than eating. It feels like a hassle, unless it's one of the foods I crave. So I guess that this is one of the reasons why I am on this journey. Because, when you don't enjoy something, you forget about it more often than if you do, don't you? Menu planning has helped me a lot, because when I didn't I would stare blankly at the fridge because nothing appealed to me, but it hasn't been enough.

The truth is I didn't mind. I didn't mind being skinny, I didn't mind having to plan a menu to know what to eat, I didn't mind not liking most of foods. I've been like this all my life, so it's my normal. I ate, maintained my weight, and was healthy, so why worry?

The problem came with the kid. I gained steadily during my pregnancy, and the doctors never worried. Most clothes kept on fitting me, and I had to buy less than 10 pieces of clothing during all my pregnancy. Then I had Oath, and started breastfeeding, and the 33 pounds I gained went slowly away.

And when I was not looking 11 pounds more were gone, too.

Oops.

I started being more aware of what I was eating, but I kept loosing weight. I started worrying, because I felt I was eating a lot. And, to prove it, I spend 10 days counting calories. The result? I was eating an average of more than 2500kCals a day (some days as many as 3600!) when, according to all the calorie calculators, 1800 should be enough to maintain my weight while breastfeeding. No wonder I felt like I was eating enough! But, still, my weight was not budging. I stopped loosing (and it was high time!), but that was all I managed to achieve.

It's a hard journey, I guess like the one to loose weight. I might be facing health issues if I do not find a way to make this work. So, I need to gain weight. And, while I am at it, I need to learn to enjoy eating.

Oath's mom

Letter to my son

Dear Oath,

You are sleeping, so calm and relaxed, while I sit here and miss you. You are not even two rooms away and there's a hole in my chest with your shape, and it aches. Every second you are away, every beat that I'm not holding you, it stings. But you know what? It also hurts when you are near but just want to scream, when I think that I could well use a few hours by myself. Yes, my love, I am THAT mom.

I am the mom that can't stop kissing your cheeks, that keeps on hugging you, telling you she loves you. Every day, every hour, every second. It doesn't matter if there's people around, family or strangers, I am the mom that pours her love on you all the time.
I am the mom that, when you are napping, checks on you every few minutes, and each time stays for a while watching you sleep. I am the one that listens to your breathing, that bends until her face is about to touch yours. And then, my son, then I smile, because I feel your warmth on my lids and your sighs on my nose.
I am the mom that sleeps by your side, every night, the one that can't imagine sleeping in any other room. I am the mom that goes to bed and the first thing she does is snuggle up beside you and holding your hand, or she can't sleep. I am the mom that would rather have you sleeping on her chest than sleeping in any other room. I am the one that stays awake if you are not there.

But, my little Oath, I am also the mom that is about to break down. The mom that wants to cry when you start screaming, the one that wishes it was easier, that you were an easy-going baby. I am the one that hides under the sheets when you wake up in the mornings, too early for a night owl like her.

I am the one that wishes so much you would stop kicking and scratching and biting when you feed, you restless nurse, but I am also the mom who hasn't even thought of weaning you yet.

I am the mom that cries because she needs some time alone, and also the one that when she's alone she spends the minutes wishing you were there.

I am the mom that does not know where she is, or where she is going, but I don't mind as long as you're with me in this journey. I am the one that wishes the day you will want to leave my side and live your life alone will never come.
And I pray, my baby, that when that day comes (because it will, it always does) you will decide to stay with me for just a little longer, while I repeat, one more time, the deepest truth of all:


I love you.

Oath's mom

I've been a busy bee (10 things...)

 

By looking at my blog you probably can't tell I've spent the last 20 days glued to my computer, but I have. It turned out that one of my exams, that I thought was on the 21st, was on the 14th, so I had to re-do all my studying schedule and it became hectic. Maybe I am getting too old for this, or maybe Oath is stealing all my attention, because studying gets harder and harder. It's like my brain can't juggle it all.

Anyway, the exams are all done now and I can focus on Oath. These weeks haven't been how I'd have liked to start the year. I have done nothing to start on my twelve new year resolutions, but I'm not going to give up: I'll start tomorrow (it's easier for me to start on a Monday. Does it happen to you too?) and to make up for it, here are 10 things I intend to do before the end of January:

1. Start a treasure basket for Oath.
2. Do all the laundry and get my laundry routine back. It's been quite random lately, so this is definitely needed.
3. Take 10 photos worth posting on this blog.
4. Post said photos here. My blog is sad without photos!
5. Show you my January crochet.
6. Go to the post office to send two parcels.
7. Look through Oath's clothes and store the ones that no longer fit.
8. Prepare and do a presentation (the last thing left to end my exam period, though not exactly an exam)
9.  Draw a city map for a friend, or at least start working on it.
10. Get my February attack plan ready!

Not my usual "10 things..." list, I know, but hey, my brain-well of ideas is quite dried-up!

I hope you all have had a better start of the year.

Oath's Mom

Thank you, me.

We've spent the weekend with some friends in a house in the mountains. It was a long weekend, tiring for me because Oath's routine is changing and I still do not know it, and because Partner was the host and was not able to help me much. Plus, we hardly had any sleep.
But we had fun, we laughed, we breathed pure mountain air... and it snowed.

For me, snow is such an unusual thing that I get all giddy when I see snowflakes falling from the sky. Is like something that only happens in tales and movies. I laughed and took photos and went outside with the kid, who did not like how snow tasted (his face clearly read "This is too cold mommy! YUCK").
This, clearly, was too much, and we ended up exhausted. As in "I'll cry my lungs off all the way back home" kind of exhausted, for the kid, and the "I just want the kid to stop crying so I can fall asleep on my feet" kind of exhausted for Partner and me.

We got home at about 8pm, with a still-screaming baby in need of a bath and our luggage in tow. For all the tiredness, I was dreading that moment: I was dreading the mess waiting behind the door, and the extra mess we would create in a second. I was about to start twitching from the anticipation when I looked around and saw nothing.
No dirty dishes anywhere, no unmade beds, no stray clothes laying anywhere. Nothing. No mess at all. And then I remembered: I had spend Friday's morning running around the house doing everything I had to do on Friday plus all that I wouldn't be able to do on the weekend. Generally, this kind of cleaning ahead does not work for us, but this time... Oh, this time! It totally paid off! We were able to get home, bath the kid, eat some dinner (I don't really remember what, but I know we ate), and go to sleep in a spotless bed.

I loved it.

So, thank you, me, for cleaning ahead and letting me relax when I needed most.

Oath's Mom

A friendly reminder to myself

Dear Oath's Mom,

You said you were back into your routine, don't you remember?

Oh, you do, you say? Then what are you doing sitting on the sofa when you should be starting a load of laundry, folding the dry clothes on the clothesline (they've been waiting for you for three days! Give thanks that it's an indoor one, or they'd be soaked again with dirty city rain...), making the bed (bad OM, bad! You hadn't fallen off the bed-making wagon for weeks!), thinking about dinner (so late? Did you expect for it to cook itself?) and possibly starting it before Partner comes home (which will be way late, we all know, but anyway... no excuses, lady!), tidying up the living room...

Yes, I know, Oath woke up like four hours before his usual wake up time (less than three hours after you went to bed, yes. This is what happens when you stay up late!) and did not want to sleep until more than an hour later... and he slept baaaaaadly after that. Tossing and turning and moaning in his co-sleeper (oh, joy!), kicking and scratching you (in the face, mainly) when you tried to soothe him back to sleep. I know, I know. You are tired, because he DID. NOT. want to nap today.

Welcome to motherhood.

 

But I'm not asking you to do all that you were supposed to do today, am I? You've spent the day moaning and complaining about lack of sleep (yours and the baby's), so now that he is (finally!) down for the night you could get up from the coach and do something productive...

Even if it's just putting the dirty lunch plates away.

Please?

Love,

Oath's Mom (yup, yourself)

Hooked

Copyright (c) 123RF Stock Photos

Because I needed something else to occupy my time on (no, not really), I've started a new hobby: crochet.

It all started on our vacation, when I saw my grandma crocheting some can tabs purses that looked so great I wanted to try. Grandma, in between some laughing at my sudden and voracious interest, taught me, and now I'm hooked (ha! see what I did there? "Hooked"! Bad pun, I know).

I tried to get my hands on some of my great-grand aunt's hooks, but all we found were very thin, for making intricate lace doilies... and I'm not ready for that yet. I took them with me, though: I like to have some family mementos (specially if they are useful, too!), and that great-grand aunt is nearly 103 years old already! I will miss her when she's gone, and it'll be nice to have something tangible to remember her by.

Anyway, back to crochet.

 As soon as we got home and I got our daily routine mostly going (more about our back-from-vacation routine in another post), I went to buy some more hooks and yarn with a big project on my mind: cute hats for Oath. Because I have no baby winter hats, and I am afraid that when I get the hand-me-downs from Oath's cousin they will be all baby blue and frilly, lacy and such, and I want no more baby blue, frills or lacy clothing home.

The first one on the list? A frog beanie. I have one eye and most of the beanie already crocheted (though I messed up and it looks a bit weird, but hey! it's my first hat ever, it couldn't be perfect, could it?), I hope to have it finished by this weekend.

Go cute hats, go!

(Wish me luck!)

 Oath's Mom

PD: I should start using my own photos, I know.

My tribe and bear momma instinct

To me, there's nothing more precious than Oath.

I suppose this explains why I get so defensive when other people come close to him. Specially people who are not of "my tribe".

What do I mean by "my tribe"? I don't really know, but until now it seems to be the ones closer to me: part of my family, my partner and father of Oath (from now on, Partner), my closest friends. Curiously, those are also the people that I feel respect my role of primary caretaker of Oath, the ones that ask permission to hold him and that take care of me first. Of course, Partner does not ask for my permission to hold his son nor do I feel the need for him to do it, but you get the idea. 

And then, there are are the other people, the "outsiders".

Each and every stranger, people that I don't like in general... and my in-laws. I feel ferociously protective of my kid when my in-laws are near. I have to consciously restrain myself from taking Oath away from them: they are his grandparents, and have every right to hold him and love him. It's just that I don't feel okay when they do.

Why? I don't know. They are nice people, have never treated me wrong (although Partner's mom has the habit of saying with the best intention things she shouldn't say) and clearly adore the boy. I know they won't do anything that could harm him, and not only I know it: I feel like they won't. But, nonetheless, every time I have to hand him down to them I would like to scream and hold him tight again my chest.

A misguided bear momma instinct, I'd say.

It is so hard to let him with others and step back, trying to not show how uneasy I am. A knot tightens in my chest, and it hurts. I want to scream until they give him back to me, but I don't.

I think that's the point, that I don't. At least, not with my in-laws. This motherhood thing is also teaching me self-restraint, who would have said it?

So, if you are a new mom too, feel this way and feel troubled for feeling it: you are not alone. I am there, too, fighting it and not knowing if I should pay attention to this instinct or not, and constantly battering myself for being such a bear momma.

Rest assured, though, that it's because we love our kids so much.

Oath's Mom