I Had Days Like This Too

Eliza is sick. And the hard thing about Eliza being sick is that you don't really know what she's got. She refuses to eat and she's coughing which leads me to think that she's got a sore throat.  Her nose is running and she's extremely cranky.  It's been a full week leading up to this, but it seems to have really hit her today. Which leaves me feeling so guilty for taking her to Cardio Barre this morning. I needed to go, I needed a workout, and when she woke up this morning she seemed fine. But when I went in to get her from the daycare after class and she was just sitting at the table staring into space not playing with anything and not watching the movie, I knew immediately that something was wrong. It's been a full day of trying to help Eliza feel better. From having her play in the bathroom while I showered so the steam would help her cough to trying five different things for lunch just to see what she would eat, to taking extra long to put her down for a nap (which she never fell asleep for) to watching YouTube videos on my phone while holding her hoping she'll go down for a late nap, to scratching the nap and aiming for an early bedtime, to watching Tangled on the couch to pass time and finally she fell asleep 20 minutes before I was going to start the bedtime routine.  Now what? A 20 minute nap then wake her up, feed her dinner, bath, stories and bed was the final plan of the day. Until waking her up just made her scream, and the thought of food made her scream more. So, I changed her diaper, put her in her sleep sack in the clothes she was wearing today, and tried to help her fall back asleep in my arms. Except that she hates my singing lately and it just made her scream more. So I put her down in her crib. And then climbed in with her to rub her back and comfort her. Which made her even more mad, and visions of the crib falling apart with both of us in it motivated me to climb back out and leave a screaming baby in a dark nursery while I discovered what mischief the dog has gotten into while my back has been turned.

And I write all of this just to say, I had days like this too.  Days that never seem to end when nothing you do seems to be the right decision and the problem is just getting worse. Days when you want to throw in the towel. And the day is probably still not over. I'll take a few minutes to myself then do what I can to make the house a little bit tidier before Shawn gets home. I'll aim for an early bedtime so that when Eliza wakes up in the middle of the night I have enough energy to get up with her. At least that's the plan, but so far nothing has gone according to plan today.

Not Ready

Today my baby girl turns one. I keep reading that when they turn one they are no longer babies but are now toddlers overnight.  I am not ready for that.  This year has been fast and slow, amazing and difficult all at the same time, but I am not ready for it to be over. I think back to a year ago, to waiting and hoping that she would come any day now.  I remember going to the hospital to be induced, then having a c-section, and finally after 9 months of pregnancy, 10 days overdue, 12 hours of labor in the hospital they placed this beautiful baby in my arms and I was forever changed. They tell you time goes fast, they tell you so much changes, but it was just yesterday that she was born, wasn't it?

It was just yesterday that we brought her home, that my Mom came to visit and lost our dog.  It was just yesterday that we figured out breastfeeding, that she smiled for the first time.  It was just yesterday that we moved her from her cradle to her crib, that she started solid foods, that she rolled over and sat up and crawled and took her first step.

And now my little tiny baby girl is marching all over the house.  She has an opinion about where she wants to go, but will cry when I leave the room without her. She talks and talks to us telling us so many things that I wish I could understand.  She points to things, sometimes to things that we are talking about, but usually she points and talks and I wish I knew what she was thinking. She gives hugs to the dog (but not Momma or Daddy), she knows the signs for milk, more, food, dog. She smiles and giggles at Daddy more than anyone else, but she cuddles into Momma when she's tired, hungry, or around new people. She loves wearing shoes and hats, but also loves to take them off. Her world has exploded this past month meeting family from Alaska, Indiana and New Mexico. She loves her cousins and loves to watch them play.

What happened to the newborn? I was always so excited to see what she was going to do next, but I also really tried to appreciate every moment, every stage, but they all flew by. I am not ready. I am not ready to put my baby to bed and wake up my toddler in the morning. I am not ready for her independence.

I love you Baby Girl.  I love you fiercely, in a way I think you will only understand when you become a momma yourself. I will embrace every change, be excited about every new thing you do, wether it's stacking blocks, or learning to read, or dancing about the house. But you will always be my newborn, my baby. I will always cherish the moments I held you in my arms and rocked you to sleep. I will look at you and see all the moments of you life all at once.  I see my newborn and my strong independent almost 1-year old, and the beautiful little girl you are becoming. You will always be my baby and I will always be your Momma.

Just Another Night

Shawn's been out of town so I've been single-mommying it for a week. His trip happened to be perfectly timed with Eliza's first cold.  At least he was here for the first couple of miserable days, but he left before she started to feel better.

I'm a night owl, AND I have a hard time falling asleep when Shawn's not home, so it's no surprise that I was up until 12:30am the other night.  What WAS a surprise was Eliza waking up at 1:00am.  I was pretty used to her 4:30am waking pattern.  And despite all of my best efforts, feeding her, walking, bouncing she was determined NOT to go back to sleep.  So, I pulled out the big guns, I grabbed Shawn's robe and held her and bounced her as he usually does. And it worked.  So, at 3:00am I found myself stumbling back into bed.  Only to be woken up at 4:30am with an upset belly!  I was confused, was I really sick?  I tried to ignore it and go back to sleep, but just kept waking up over and over.  Finally I trudged into the bathroom, and 30 minutes later, back in bed, feeling relieved and happy that the Pepto happened to be sitting on the bathroom counter. Then an hour later Shawn's alarm went off.  In my dizzy state I hit it and slapped at the alarm clock until it stopped.  10 minutes later I realized the beeping was NOT part of my dream and the darn thing was going off AGAIN! This time I put a little more effort into NOT hitting the snooze button, but still hit random buttons until it once again stopped.  Thankfully I accomplished my task. And then at 8:00 my living alarm clock (aka the baby) went off as well, and we were up for the day.

And you know, since becoming a parent, this is not such an unusual night.  Sure, Shawn's not always gone, he's usually around to help with the baby girl. And I don't usually get woken up by an upset belly.  But waking up three or four times a night is not that unusual anymore. And yes, we'll be doing some sleep training as soon as I can find a method I feel good about, but I also really love holding my sleeping baby in my arms in the middle of the night.

As I have become a mother my feelings towards my own mother have changed so much and my love for her has grown.  I am the youngest of six kids, so I have often felt left out, like they had all the fun before I came around.  I felt sometimes that my Mom used all of her fun Mom energy before I was there and by the time I came around having a baby and taking care of me was just routine.  But I also want to note that this thought has never bothered me, I just accepted it as the sixth child.  And I certainly know that I had a lot of benefits being the last.

But, now that I have my own baby I can picture my Mother with me, shushing the older children as she takes me into her bedroom where the crib is.  She wraps me up in a blanket, maybe grabs a special, loved, stuffed animal or toy.  She sits quietly with me and sings a song or reads a book and then she holds me close as she rocks me until I fall asleep.  She strokes her cheek on my soft downy baby head and smells the back of my neck where the baby smell seems to linger and she soaks in the moment, just as I do with Eliza.  Just as her mother did with her.  And by becoming a mother myself I am linked to all of the women that came before me.  And I can't help but love them more because now I understand how much love my Mom has for me.

Middle of the Night

Last night was one of those nights that every parent has experienced.  Eliza woke us up at her usual time (which I won't write down because Shawn doesn't like knowing what time it is when he gets up in the middle of the night) and I was strangely in a deep sleep.  I didn't know that I could sleep that deeply any more.  Shawn got up and changed her diaper, and it took me a few minutes for my body and mind to come together so that I could get up, walk down the hall, and take Eliza to nurse her.  She was crying by the time I took her from Shawn, she was hungry.  But she latched on quickly and quieted down and snuggled herself into my body.  I held her warm body close and rocked her.  Her small hand was cold and was restless, one minute hitting my cheek, the next fumbling with the cloth of my pajamas. I held her hand in mine to warm it up and to calm her down.  She finished eating and was wide awake, just looking around, so I sat her on my lap and sang our lullaby. I sat with her on my lap and she seemed the calm for a few minutes and then would talk and giggle and wiggle.  Where did this energy come from in the middle of the night? Usually she only nurses on one side in the middle of the night, but I put her on the other side as well, hoping it would calm her down, help her to fall asleep.  I put her lovey in her hand so it wouldn't explore like her hand on the first side.  It seemed to work, she fell asleep. But as if she was reading my thoughts as soon as I decided to move her to her crib, that she was asleep enough that she wouldn't wake and cry, she turned her head, looked at me and smiled, as if to say, "Ha! I fooled you! Silly Mommy!" And then she started to giggle and talk.  Oh, my sweet, adorable girl.

But, Mommy was tired and needing to get back to sleep.  I looked at the clock, we had been at this for well over an hour, I wanted to go get Shawn, to tag out, to tell him it was his turn.  But I waited and rocked, and held her hands and stroked her head with my cheek.  But she was still awake, still giggling, talking, looking around, happy.  I looked at the clock again and decided that I would give it 13 more minutes, and if she wasn't sleepy in 13 minutes I would tag Shawn in.  I stood up and started to do my best Momma bounce, the one that works to put her down for a nap every day.  And she didn't like it.  She started to get fussy, upset.  And five minutes later, with eight minutes to go, Shawn came to get her.  And we wordlessly passed her between us. Eliza loves her Daddy, I didn't hear another peep from her, she calmed down as soon as I put her in his arms. I handed him her lovey and softly closed the door behind me.  It had been 90 minutes.

I Love You THIS Much

The following conversation happens three or four nights every week, whenever Shawn is the one to check on Eliza right before we go to bed. The lights are out and we're laying in bed just about to fall asleep.

Me: Is she OK?

Shawn: Yes

(pause)

Me: Is she breathing?

Shawn: Yes

(pause)

Me: Is she beautiful?

Shawn: (sigh) Yes

(pause)

Me:  Does she know how much we love her?

Shawn: Yes, now go to sleep.

It feels so important that Eliza knows how much I love her at every minute of the day.  I hope she can feel the love that is coming out of my every pore.  I adore that little girl, everything about her, and I want her to know that.  I think this must be genetic, or maybe a Mom thing because I recently found a Valentine's Day card my Mom sent me three or four years ago.  The line "Please know how much we love you" was repeated four times.

Thank you, Mom.  I now am beginning to understand how much you love me.  But you can keep telling me anytime you want.

Blissfully Quiet

It's blissfully quiet in my house at the moment.  The baby is asleep, the dog has been put in his kennel for the night, and Shawn is at class.  It wasn't like this last night.  Last night was the hardest night I've had as a Momma so far.  Eliza's bed time is at 7, and we followed routine and she was down by 8.  But then at 9 she woke up, which is very strange for her, but we got her back to sleep.  Only to have her wake up again at 11:30, which is sadly when Shawn and I were heading to bed.  And then she kept us up literally all night long.  Shawn and I traded off taking care of her, and we would get her to sleep, put her back in her crib, and just as our heads hit the pillows and we thought, ah, sleep, she would start crying.  All. Night. Long.  We're pretty sure she had an upset belly last night.  Poor little thing.  We just didn't know how to help her, she was so sad, crying so much, not a happy camper.  And by 7:00 am when we were up for the day I was so exhausted I couldn't see straight and I kissed my poor exhausted husband goodbye for an incredibly long day.

But really, what I'm grateful for today are small tender mercies.  Because my day has been filled with them.  After not having slept I expected Eliza to be fussy all day long, but she wasn't.  Right from the beginning of the day she was smiling and happy.  She played with her toys so I could eat breakfast, she smiled and giggled at me.  Then my lovely parents watched Eliza so I could nap for a couple of hours at their house.  It is so nice to have someone I trust so completely with Eliza that I don't worry about her and can nap.  When we got home I was eating a bowl of cereal with Eliza on my lap and she reached out and grabbed the bowl and the cereal went all over the table, my jeans, the dog, and the floor.  And you know what I did?  I laughed!  I was so proud of her for reaching and grabbing and pulling and learning.  And I'm so glad for that tender mercy of my attitude at the end of a long day and long night.  Then at bathtime she started eating her toes and splashing and was just so happy again.

I was nervous about being a Momma, that I would be impatient and not understanding, especially with a little baby.  I know that there are still years to come, I know that I will have impatient moments, but I'm so glad, relieved, and thankful that today, which I expected to be hard and impossible was filled with joy and fun and a beautiful, happy baby.

2 Months

Dear Eliza,

You are now two months old! You love to smile and will smile at anyone who smiles at you.  I love it when I come in to pick you up in the mornings and you give me that big smile that says, "Hey, I know you!" You always smile at your Daddy when he comes home from work.  You are a great sleeper and will usually sleep 6-7 hours at night, and even slept 9 hours Saturday night!  I was a bit freaked out when I realized it was 7:45am and you had just barely started to make noises.  But you don't like naps and do your best not to sleep during the day.  You still love baths and being naked in general.  You are starting to pay more attention to noises like Scooter's barking or music.  You don't particularly like the car but will fall asleep if we turn the radio on.  You will coo and giggle at your Daddy and I.  You weigh 9lbs 13 oz and are 22 inches long.  You have chubby little thighs that I love to kiss and cheeks I could gobble up.  You love to grab my fingers when I'm feeding you, and you are still a good nurser, but have started to be more interested in what's going on around you during the daytime feedings.  You love to be held on your belly, and you still suck on your fist like it's a piece of candy.

This was a big month for you.  You spent your first night at the cabin and took your first trip to visit your Grandma and Grandpa Walker in Wyoming.  We went to the Doctor and you got your first set of shots which may have been harder on your Momma than on you.  You looked shocked and then cried, but fell asleep as soon as you were in your carseat and slept for several hours.  You took it all in stride and just got a little fussy, but still were all smiles when Daddy came home.

You also had your first bottle, and your first trip to the babysitter, who was your Aunt Stacey.  You also are sleeping all night in your own room now.  I think those firsts were bigger for me than you!  I am still tempted every night to sleep on the floor next to your crib, but I think we all sleep better now.

You have stolen my heart and keep it tight in your little fist. I learn from you every day and am thankful every day that you have come into our lives.  I love you more than I ever thought possible.

Love,

Momma

The Difference

There are a lot of things that are different about having a baby about the house, and here are some of them:

Things we now have in every room in the house: baby blankets, baby socks (they just fall off!), burp rags (multiples in every room, they're everywhere!), pacifiers (and she doesn't even like them!)

I do WAY more laundry than ever before, at least a load a day, and that's BEFORE cloth diapers! Wow, does this girl produce a ton of laundry!

Showers are optional, or at least it feels that way.  It takes some serious juggling or scheduling to shower.  At least I've figured out that Baby Girl will fall asleep in her swing when I shower, so now showering and nap time are combined.

I schedule everything in two hour increments, because that's how often she will need to either nap or eat.  I ask myself: Can I get that done in two hours?  Is it far enough away she'll fall asleep in the car so it can count as a nap? Is there a place where I can feed her?

We have a lot more quiet time around the house.  Both when she is sleeping, and when she is awake we love to just sit and absorb the world.

My clothing choices revolve around easy access to be able to feed a baby.  I don't miss work, but I do miss dressing up.

I feel a mighty sense of accomplishment every time I get her to nap for more than 20 minutes at a time.

My heart melts when she smiles at me first thing in the morning.

I do and say sill things just to get her to giggle.

I'm learning how to do a lot of stuff one handed.

I never knew how much joy I would find in having a baby!

This is Real Life

I had a really good life as a single girl.  I had a good job, bought my dream car, got to travel, had amazing roommates, life was good.  But even though life was good I always had this feeling, when does REAL life begin?  I'd tell myself, this is it, this IS REAL LIFE!  But I always felt like something was missing.  I kept searching, and kept trying to improve myself.  I took ballet lessons, ski lessons, I learned how to rock climb and fence, but something always felt like it was missing.  Marrying Shawn helped, that giant portion of what had been missing was filled in by marrying Shawn.  But even after we were married I felt like something was missing.  I was still waiting for real life to begin.  Shawn and I have so much fun together.  We both love to travel and explore, wether it's our own neighborhood or traveling abroad.  He makes me laugh and can change my mood in an instant. I love him more than I ever though possible, but day in and day out I was waiting for real life, where was it?

Last week I was loading some laundry into the dryer and I had that old familiar nagging, something was missing, where was real life?  And I thought as I usually do, this IS real life.  And for the first time, I did feel it, this IS real life. I am satisfied and fulfilled in a way I never have been before.  I love being a mother, and this is the best job I have ever had.  This is real life!

I have a confession. . .

I feel like I need to make a confession.  I am going to use cloth diapers.  Why should that be a big deal?  I've told a few people, friends, family, other mothers, and they all look at me as if I'm insane.  Why oh why would someone use cloth when they could use disposable diapers?  Why wash cloth when it is so much easier to throw them away?  I had the same initial reactions my friend, until I started reading more about cloth diapers.  They have come a long way in the 20 years since I last changed a cloth diaper.  There's no more folding and pinning and plastic pants.  Now they have diapers that are basically all-in-one, and they close with velcro or with snaps, easy peasy!  And they're so cute! Just look at that baby! I also learned that babies who wear cloth diapers are less likely to get diaper rash and typically potty train earlier and easier.  But the major factor for Shawn and I in deciding to use cloth diapers is really a financial one.  We were given a TON of diapers before Eliza was born, but even with all those diapers we've easily spent $50 for more disposable diapers.  Cloth diapers is a larger initial investment, we're looking at $250-$300, but once you get your supply, that's it, you are done.  Yes, you have to wash them, but as one mom pointed out, you are already pretty familiar with your baby's poop, and changing a cloth diaper isn't any worse than a disposable diaper.  Just today I've already been peed on and pooped on, how much harder will it be to wash a diaper than my own clothing.  

We've ordered our initial stock of diapers, just two each of three different kinds to figure out what works best for us.  I'll try the cloth diapers for a few days to decide what we like and then we'll do a bigger order so that we end up with 18-20 diapers.  Our diapers will arrive on Thursday, I'll let you know how it goes!

Mommy Lesson #1

Note to self: Taking care of myself makes me a better mommy.  On those days when Eliza is crying and won't sleep and won't eat and I can't seem to make her happy, if I take even just five minutes to myself, even if she is crying, it is so much easier to take care of her.  Often those five minutes are just brushing my teeth, washing my face and changing out of my PJs for the day, but those little things make a big difference and those five minutes make the next few hours better. And when I'm calmer she is calmer as well.  When I feel good, she calms down.

My New Job

The decision to leave work and be a stay at home mom was both the easiest decision I have ever made and the most difficult one.  We considered every option, every possibility, money, the commute, daycare, insurance, everything.  If I had been in this position ten years ago I wouldn't have wanted to stay home with my kids. Ten years ago I wanted to be a career woman, I wanted the job and the office and the travel.  I guess getting all of that changed my perspective, and somehow having the job, the office, the travel made me just want family, kids, and to stay home and watch them grow.  But even knowing before I ever got pregnant that I wanted to stay home, once the dream of kids became a reality I still had to make the decision, weigh the factors.  Could I really stay home with my baby girl, or was it just a dream?  

Shawn and I talked over everything, and the biggest negative was definitely the money.  Shawn is in school and will graduate in a year, which will hopefully mean more money.  Could we afford to have me stay home and not bring in any money for a year?  The truth is, at some point I may need to go back to work part time, so the first thing I did was discuss that possibility with my boss.  But, ultimately, what I really would want would be a flexible schedule so I can work when Shawn is home and not have to put Eliza in daycare at all.  And even if a part time position was available, it would mean I would still have the commute, which was one of the biggest negatives about my job.  And let's just be honest here, I didn't exactly love my job, and that's probably one of the biggest factors.  If I loved my job I might be more inclined to go back to work for a year.  I loved the people I worked with, and there were aspects of my job that were really great and fun, but ultimately it wasn't for me and it was getting harder and harder to stay motivated.  I just couldn't see myself dropping off my precious baby in daycare and driving for an hour each way to go to a job I basically dreaded.  But, I was also worried about how I would do NOT working.  I've had a job since I was in highschool, is there some part of me that needs to work?  It's only been two months, and the first two weeks before Eliza came I did get pretty stir crazy in the house, but I love being home with her.  I look forward to a time when I can do a bit more like making dinner and cleaning, so far Eliza is pretty demanding of my time and attention.  (It's taken me a week to write this blog post.)  But I do definitely need some adult interaction, and have started to find my network of fellow stay at home moms to get together with.  

I had a few people tell me to not even think about making the decision until Eliza arrived, to just wait until I was on maternity leave and then decide if I wanted to go back.  So, I researched that possibility and discussed with my HR what it would mean if I didn't come back while I was on maternity leave, and basically, that's a really expensive option.  Sure, you get paid and have insurance for those weeks, but if you decide not to go back, you get to pay back that insurance and most of the salary, so I knew I had to make a decision upfront.  I thought about going back for a short period of time, but then it was the finding the daycare again and the commute and the leaving my baby, so I decided that was also not an option, even if it was temporary.  

I agonized for weeks, months over the decision.  Then once I had made up my mind I agonized over when to inform my boss.  We were going through redeployment at work, and what I decided and when I announced my decision would effect other people. I didn't want to announce too soon and have them let me go before I was ready.  And waiting to tell work made me keep reassessing my decision.  So, I waited until about a month before I was supposed to go on "maternity leave" and then my boss came to me and asked what my plans were for maternity leave and even though I hadn't mentally prepared to have the discussion right then, I told him, I'm not coming back.  And at that moment I was liberated.  My boss was great, very encouraging about my decision being the right one and that he would not hesitate to hire me again.  And my timing was perfect.  The redeployment meant someone else was able to take over my accounts, and I had a month to close things out and transition everything over to them.  And while I miss my coworkers, I haven't missed my job, not even for a second.  Being a mom all day every day is so much harder than my job ever was.  And at the same time so much more rewarding.  I feel a fulfillment in being with Eliza that I never felt in my office job.  I truly feel like this is what I was meant to do, even on the days when she cries and I can't put her down for more than a minute.  I love this little girl more than I ever thought possible.  

I am so blessed to be able to stay home with Eliza.  I know plenty of moms who don't have that option. I also know plenty of moms who don't want that option.  And for me, for right now, this is the perfect decision.  

Picture found here.

One Month

Dear Eliza,

You are one month old!  I can remember life a month ago, a year ago, before you were here, before you were part of our family, but at the same time I can't imagine a time that I didn't know you.  Holding you in my arms right after you were born wasn't like meeting you for the first time, it was more like seeing a good friend again after a long time.  Did we know each other before we came to this earth?  Did you know that I was going to be your Momma?  I can't imagine life without you!

You are a wonderful sleeper, only getting up once at night and letting Momma and Daddy sleep five or six hours at night. You have to have your arms free when you sleep, you love your hands right by your face.  You love bath time, and never cry when we bathe you, but instead just look peaceful, like you are taking everything in.  You love being naked. You love going outside and going for walks with me in the mornings.  You'll immediately calm down if we take you outside.  You don't like your carseat.  You love your Daddy and if you are crying you calm down when he picks you up, he's magic.  You have dark hair and we wonder where it came from.  It curls when we wash it, but then goes wild and sticks straight up when it dries.  You have long finger and LONG feet.  You have skinny arms and legs but chubby cheeks that get chubbier every day, and a big Buda belly.  Your eyes are an amazing dark blue.  You love to just absorb the world looking around you or at whomever is holding you.  You are starting to smile and watch people, especially Momma's lips when she is talking.  Sometimes you even copy what Momma does with her mouth.

We love you more than we ever imagined was possible.

Love, Momma

I'm a Mom

I'm a Mom.  Those three little words are so overwhelming and encompassing right now.  I've been reflecting for days on what that means.  I'm a Mom!  My love for this little girl is overwhelming, a lot of things are overwhelming right now!  I look at her and can't believe that I created her, that she is part of me and part of Shawn, and yet she is more beautiful than I ever imagined she would be.  Seeing Shawn as her Daddy is amazing, watching him hold her, listening to him sing to her, incredible.  I could sit and hold her all day long and never get anything done around the house.  When she cries my heart aches to comfort her, to make it all better, but I also have all the patience with her, waiting for her to get the cry out.  When she looks at me I feel like the most important person in the world.  I want to tell her everything at once, and yet have no idea where to begin.  How do I help her know how special and important and beautiful she is?  What is she thinking?  What does she know or remember from before she came to this earth?  Welcome to the world Baby Girl.  I can't wait to get to know you.

Having It All

I love this post by The Frugal Girl about "having it all."  It's definitely been on my mind as I decided wether or not to continue to work after Baby Girl Walker joined our family.  I have to agree with her in so many ways, to me "having it all" never included having a family and a career.  When I was in my 20's I might have wanted both, but the older I've gotten, the longer I was in a career, the longer I waited to start my family, the more I've wanted to be able to stay home with my children.  I definitely have friends who are moms who work full time, and while some of them do it out of necessity, and some of them do it out of choice, I don't know that any of them would say that they "had it all."  Just in the last week and a half that I've been at home waiting for Baby Girl I've definitely wondered if I made the right choice, if I'll be happy being home all the time, taking on most of the housework and cleaning and child care.  I realize that I might have to take a part time job, not just for financial reasons, but maybe for my mental stability having worked outside the home for more than half of my life.  But at the same time I love that for right now my focus can be on Baby Girl (when she decides to come that is) and Shawn.  And I'll figure out the cooking and cleaning and homemaking, and who knows, I might love it.  And here's to the opportunity to figure out what "having it all" means to me!

Five Examples of Motherhood

As I contemplate becoming a mother (in less than a month!) I think of the great mothering examples I've had in my life.  There are surely countless women I could add to this list, the Orlobs, Judy Cannon, Shawn's Mother all come to mind, but these are the examples that truly stand out for me.

Diana Wiseman is my childhood best friend's mom.  I'm sure that in the summer months I spent more time at her house than my own.  Diana was always kind to me, but not afraid to discipline me when I needed it or send me home when I'd overstayed my welcome.  Diana taught me the importance of suncreen which she liberally slathered all over her girls all summer long, and posture.  I remember being 14 and staying with the Wiseman family for a week and having dinner.  I sat up my tallest with my best posture knowing that Diana would tell her girls to sit up straight.  At the end of the meal she complimented my on my posture and I think it was the best compliment I ever got from her!

Lary Ann Bateman was my second mom growing up.  She is my Mother's best friend and she lived just down the street from us.  LaryAnn gave me my first babysitting job, and probably fired me from it too.  She would let me sit on her lap and drive her car down our dead end street.  She taught me how to make Quesidillas and about Ebelskeevers.  She makes the best home made rootbeer and carmel popcorn.  She is the first person I know who has this ability to make everyone she comes in contact with feel like her best friend.  All through school everyone I came in contact knew LarryAnn, and for good reason.  She knows how to love unconditionally.

Stacey is my oldest sister.  I remember being small, about 4 years old when my parents were going out for the night and my Mom put Stacey in charge.  I cried and cried about wanting my Mommy when Stacey, who was only 12 or 13 said she would be my Mommy for the night, my other mommy.  It worked and a few days later I cried and cried and when my Mom asked what was wrong I proclaimed "I want my Mommy!"  Exasperated, she said "I'm right here!" and I said "NO!  I want my STACEY MOMMY!"  Stacey has always been the coolest person I know, the kind of person who you want to be in her group.  Whatever she's doing seems to be the funnest, and she draws people to her.  She has been another mother to me all of my life advising me on boys and surviving teenage hood and broken hearts.  But what's truly remarkable is seeing my sister become a mom herself.  She is the best Mom, with endless patience for her son, and endless joy.  My niece said once that Stacey was her favorite Aunt now because Stacey was more fun, and I couldn't disagree.  I'm so glad my kids will have Stacey as an Aunt.

David is my brother, my sibling closest to my age.  I know it's a little nontraditional to list a man in a list of mothers, but my brother is an amazing single Dad.  He lives in Alaska, so I don't get to see him often, but every time I do I am impressed by his ability to parent his girls.  His oldest is the smartest kid I know, waxing on and on about geography at five years old.  His youngest is as stubborn as can be, and to watch him patiently work with her, whether it's to convince her to wash her face or just listen to her talk, I think it's remarkable.  He loves them fiercely for the independent people they are.  I hope I can appreciate my children for who they are the way David appreciates his.

And really, what would any motherhood list be without including my own Mom, Mary Jo Harrell? I don't really know where to start here.  My Mom has always been my example.  I've been so lucky to be the youngest, and live at home the longest, so I have gotten to know my Mother as a woman and friend.  I know her flaws, but also understand them, and that is so helpful to me as I become a Mom.  My Mom taught me love for reading and learning.  She went to college when I was a little girl, teaching me the importance of higher education, but when she saw that her family needed her more, she quit, teaching me that I (and my siblings) are the most important thing to her.  Instead of being a failure for not finishing, she is an incredible example of sacrifice and putting the most important thing first.  She always works hard and gets the project done.  She is the best person to have on your team if you need something done.  She is humble, always amazed when people ask her to do things or head up committees, not seeing her own power and strength.  She is a true example of a Christian woman, always helping others.  There is always room at her house whether it's for the homeless woman we found in the park, friends of her kids, or the autistic man in her ward, everyone is welcome.  I've seen my Mother only eat half of her meal at a restaurant so she could give the other half to someone who needed it. She loves me and forgives me.  There is no higher honor than to be known as her daughter.