Team Peeta

I. Am. So. Excited.

baby essentials

To follow up on my post reflecting on my lessons and revelations as a new mom, I thought I might take note of the things that I have found most helpful in these first few months.  There must be something like 5,000,000 baby items out there, tempting or confusing new moms and moms-to-be everywhere. It's increasingly a challenge to sift through them to figure out what really might be necessary or provide comfort and support.  Just like any other new mom, I had a giant baby registry, even though I really made an effort to keep my list practical and devoid of space-consuming or frivolous items.  I'm quite glad that I registered at Amazon-had I actually physically been in a baby store (it would have been Buy Buy Baby, btw, that place is a baby wonderland!), there is no telling what would have made it on my list.  I took stock of the things I feel I couldn't live without and have recorded them here.  In a few more months, perhaps I'll create a "nice to have" and "totally unnecessary" list.

essentials:

muslin swaddle blankets.  I have a solid collection of these, and though they're not the cheapest items to purchase, they are completely wonderful, and exceptionally multi-purpose.  I use them to cover the stroller or car seat when we're out, as burp cloths, as a playmat of sorts on the lawn, and of course, for swaddling.   Aden + Anais and Luna Lullaby are my mainstays.

Gerber cloth diapers.  I know not every baby is a monumental spitter like my precious little baby A, but most will still muss up their clothes from time to time after eating.  Forget about buying lovely burp cloths with cute designs, because these are all you will need!  Side note: if I were to go the cloth diaper route in the future, I would certainly be more inclined to try the hip, efficient all-in-ones or pocket diapers.  No prefolds (which these Gerber cloth diapers are) for me!

multiple changing pad covers.  I was blissfully ignorant when I included a single changing pad cover on my registry.  After only a few days at home, and multiple poop explosions and/or pee fountains which my inexperienced hands failed to catch with a clean diaper or washcloth, I realized it would be a whole lot easier if I had a few spares.  Of course, it's not really necessary, if you stay on top of your laundry or are not averse to throwing a regular towel down on the changing pad if you've forgotten about your laundry and your lone pad is swirling around in a whirlpool of eco-friendly detergent.  A towel will suffice, but because they're not actually fixed to the pad, baby will be quite a bit more wiggly and slippery.  I currently have three covers, which is just about the right number.

bouncer.  Of all the soothing/entertaining baby gear we acquired, the bouncer has by far been the most useful.  I know every baby is different, and some will respond more positively to certain items than others, so this item might not be as essential for you as it is for us.  The swing, for example, was something most moms encouraged purchasing, but baby A never warmed to it at all.  The bouncer, on the other hand, has been wonderful!  I keep it in the kitchen all the time, where it props up little A while I'm eating breakfast and lunch or cooking dinner.  He likes it mostly for his vantage point right now, though as he becomes more mobile I'm sure he'll appreciate the movement factor.

iPhone. Last on my list, but certainly not least. I admit that it's a bit snobby for me to include such an expensive device as an iPhone, but I am getting every single penny's worth. There is seemingly no limit to the usefulness of this device.  In fact, I don't believe I ever truly appreciated it until I had a baby.  It was cool to be able to surf the web in such a clean, flawless, fashion, and I loved having the dual function of the iPod feature, of course, but I never really used my phone to its full potential. Now, I entertain myself while nursing with the Netflix and Kindle apps.  In fact, I've read more books in baby A's first three months of life than I did during my entire pregnancy (full disclosure: when it comes to books, I will always be a three-dimensional, classic, words on the physical page kind of person-I just make an exception for the up-all-night stage of babyhood).  I've added a Raffi station to my Pandora app, and it's a cinch to thrust the phone into the iHome in the nursery, though the phone's speakers are just the right volume to use anywhere.  I tried multiple new baby apps before landing on my favorite, Baby Connect.  It's excellent, keeping track not only of nursing, diapering, and sleeping, but also milestones, moods, medicines, and doctor's appointments.  In the anxiety-inducing first days of new-motherhood, it's hugely helpful to have an easy way to keep track of everything, rather than having to find pen and paper all the time to write down each pee and poop.  The camera is, of course, of exceptional quality, and it's wonderful to be able to email or text videos and pictures instantly.  What I would NOT suggest is using your phone to engage with that devil, Dr. Google.  STAY AWAY FROM GOOGLE, NEW PARENTS!  Too long there, and you'll be diagnosing your precious newborn with all number of horrific, and probably obsolete or nonsensical illnesses.

There you have it!  My can't-live-without-'em list!  Excuse me now while I ensure one of my three changing pad covers is clean...

Bel Ami

I'll have you know that Bel Ami is a fine piece of French literature.

baby a's first movie

He is looking at me innocently from his bouncer as I post this, fully unaware that I'll be toting him into the theater for a morning viewing come November.

what I've learned so far...

In the two and a half short months that have passed since I became a mom to the most beautiful boy in creation (see above, I really don't think I'm all that biased), I can't honestly say that I have become a real fountain of knowledge when it comes to babies and motherhood.  It is abundantly clear that I have loads more to learn, and that it will be months years before I feel the teeniest bit of real confidence that I might, just might, have a handle on what I'm doing.  There are, however, a few conclusions that I have managed to draw which I feel properly reflect my practical sentiments regarding my new, wonderful life as a mother.

You will never need an alarm clock again.  Every time we have an event planned for the next day, I instinctively reach for my cell phone's alarm option.  Then I stop.  Why in the world would I need to set an alarm? It's a guarantee that we'll be up with the dawn, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Or at least one of us will be bright-eyed. That one being baby A.

Clothes are no longer interesting. I wasn't the biggest fashionista before my little baby arrived, but whatever style I did manage to pull off has perilously declined. My wardrobe is now extremely minimal, confined to two or three pairs of yoga pants, my pre-pregnancy skinny jeans (I have breastfeeding, that marvelous devourer of calories, to thank for that), four or five soft tees that are easy to pull up, and four nursing tanks.  I occasionally attempt to look slightly more dressed up with a cute Gap button-down shirt, but those days are rare.  On the other hand, I have developed a serious shopping problem when it comes to my baby.  I obsessively check Zulily every morning when we get up, and can spend hours perusing the Gap and Gymboree websites.  It's probably not a good thing that it's so simple to shop online.  I may or may not have spent an outrageous amount on ensuring that little A has a different Halloween-themed outfit for every day of the week leading up to Halloween.

Your brain is smaller.  I'm not even making this up, actually.  Yes, I noticed almost immediately during my first real, non-baby oriented adult conversation that it felt like an entire layer of functioning brain cells had literally been shaved off the top of my now pea-sized brain. This is not simply a side effect of sleep deprivation, either.  Even at two months, when my darling little A sleeps enough at night that I generally get 7 hours of sleep, I can tell that there is a real struggle to get all those neurons firing when it comes to anything that doesn't have to do with caring for my baby.  As it turns out, the female brain actually DOES shrink during pregnancy, a fact I discovered in the conveniently titled book, The Female Brain.  Incidentally, it's a very good read!

Grooming hits the skids. I embraced an extremely simple beauty routine in the month before A was born. It involved a neutral shade of Clinique eyeshadow, a trusty Laura Mercier concealer, dab of Maybelline mascara, hint of black eyeliner, and my standby, Benetint cheek stain.  I figured I would be able to manage it after the baby was born, and for the most part, I have had an extra two or three minutes after showering to make myself slightly more attractive and less like I've been up all night.  However, after the passing of two months, I decided that I might want to spend a bit more time on the ol' routine, and one morning, I dug through my makeup bag a bit to look for a different eyeshadow, only a slightly deeper, but more sophisticated brown shade.  As my fingers brushed across the few other items in my bag, I realized that I had completely forgotten how I wore them before.  What shades did I combine?  Did I actually use that blue/black eyeliner?  I have literally lost my beauty know-how.

It's not just the baby that will need a spare outfit. I know that not every baby is a spitter.  In my mind, I imagine these babies as mostly girls, who after a few gentle pats on the back, release delicate, subdued burps, and have eaten so quietly and gracefully that mere drops of milk occasionally escape from their mouths.  My dear, sweet baby is the complete opposite.  He has the digestive habits of a burly, uncouth man.  I'm envisioning a logger.  Or steel worker.  Or maybe an ice road trucker.  After he eats, he lets out huge, echoing belches.  During his dinner, he likes to do what I call "making a little room"-forcefully releasing giant amounts of poop.  Let's put it this way-it hasn't been just once that I've had to change my pants because a large, colorful pile of poop has stained them with a most unbecoming curry-bright stain.  Most troublesome to the wardrobe, however, is the massive amount of spit-up that results from my overly enthusiastic eater.  It results in several changes of his clothes, to be sure, but I'm seriously considering packing along an extra top for myself every time we go out, lest the employees of Trader Joe's or proprietors of my local children's bookshop think I'm embracing a bold new fashion statement which involves rivulets of creamy white spattered in unusual patterns all over my clothing, emitting a sourish odor.  It would be a mistake to assume it's simply your top layer that is exposed-many a day I have had to rush to find a clean bra or nursing top, after I've discovered a small reservoir of spit-up in the middle of my bosom, accompanied by a few curds of milk.  I'm so happy my baby is getting enough to eat, but let's face it-I can't exactly walk around with a puddle sloshing around in my bosom.

Hopefully, the next few years will find me adding to this list.  Of course, I aspire to be a parenting pro, but I have a feeling that my new boss, baby A, will have plenty of curveballs to throw my way.  One thing I know for sure is that it will be worth. every. minute.

P.S. That oft-shared piece of advice, "sleep when the baby sleeps"? I haven't exactly clung to it.  The hour or two I have during the day when A is asleep (he sleeps very well at night, but pretty much boycotts daytime naps) allow me some real "human" time.  I'm able to clean up the house a bit, catch up on thank you notes and school work, and maybe even blog (which, as you can see, is a challenge-it's been over a month since I posted!)! Incidentally, you will find that it's often next to impossible to lay down your precious sleeping baby when he is snuggled, warm and cozy, against your chest.  There is no better feeling in the world, and since I know it won't last forever, many a nap has passed in my arms.  And really, is there anything more important I could be doing than cradling my little love?

our greatest accomplishment

Meet Baby A.  He was born on July 5, at 4:15 pm, approximately twelve hours after we arrived at the hospital.  We are absolutely smitten with him, in all his perfection!  He was a solid 9 pounds, 9 ounces, and 21 inches long.  It wouldn't have mattered one bit, of course, had he been a little peanut and weighed 6 pounds, but I had always secretly had my heart set on having a ginormous baby.  I got my wish!

Our first month has been a dream, and I know that some day soon I will long for the sleep-deprived nights and most precious feeling of snuggling with a newborn, who wants nothing more than to be in our arms.  It has already gone so much faster than I thought it would.  My heart is bursting with love, every single second, for our little boy.  He is the greatest blessing we could have ever been given, and I still cannot believe he is ours.

a time for everything

I've never been a big reader of Ecclesiastes, even though I'm very well-versed when it comes to the Bible.  I know it's full of wise sayings, but its position there, tightly ensconced between the even wiser Proverbs and the passionate lamentations of Isaiah and Jeremiah has occasionally had the unfortunate consequence of losing my attention.

The one passage that I have always remembered from Ecclesiastes is probably the most oft-quoted.  Nevertheless, there is hardly anything more appropriate for the tumultuous and surreal surges of feeling that I have experienced during my almost two-month hiatus from blogging.

I steer clear from getting too personal on my blog, preferring instead to write about food and fluff, but as it is a record of sorts, I wanted to mark the time before I begin to write again in my normal flow and rhythm.  For now, I write as a mother, and also as a woman who has lost her own mother.  That the two events, a birth and a death, occurred within 10 days of each other still seems impossible to comprehend.

I take comfort, however, in these words, for they are too true.  I take comfort in the fact that my mother was able to meet my son, arriving on the very day he was born, a virtual miracle given her condition.  I take comfort in the knowledge that my mother has been eased of the burden of her illness and sadness, and must now blissfully enjoy a reunion in heaven that she has longed for.  I take comfort in the fact that I know I will see her again, and that she can look down and relish the sight of my little baby A.  I take comfort in the sight of my baby's incredibly beautiful, perfect little face, for he has brought me so much joy in the midst of sorrow.  And sometimes, that is as it should be, a natural part of life.

"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:  a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace." Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8

Almost three years ago, I wrote about a book my mom recommended, One True Thing, which is about a young woman's relationship with her mother.  It's a terribly sad, terribly good book, and it subject matter is even more resonant for me now.  I thumbed through it recently, and as I always have when rereading, turned to the passage when Ellen, the protagonist, is asked whether she loved her mother.

"The easy answer is yes.  But it's too easy just to say that when you're talking about your mother. It's so much more than love-it's, it's everything, isn't it?"  as though somehow they would all nod.  "When someone asks you where you came from, the answer is your mother."

When someone asks you where you came from, the answer is  your mother.