There are some days and some weeks when I truly, truly mourn my old life. I mourn the freedom I once had as a childless individual. The freedom of sleeping in until 10am on a Saturday, eating some breakfast and then beaching it for the rest of the afternoon. The freedom of going to Target with my whole brain functioning and focusing on why I'm there instead of trying to keep a child content and rushing through the store to avoid any potential meltdowns. The freedom to go workout a few days a week. Shit, even the freedom of nurturing my marriage by spending an entire day together without watching Yo Gabba Gabba or changing a diaper. The freedom of living guilt free because even if I drop Lily off somewhere to do something for myself for an hour or so means feeling guilt. Just, missing freedom.

This past week was one of those weeks.

There wasn't anything specifically horrible about this past week, aside from Lily's first ever adult food vomiting experience, which, albeit awful (if you know me at all you know I have a weird phobia of vomiting), was not enough in it of itself to evoke these feelings. I just go through this sometimes.

I often wonder if it's because I had a child in my 30's instead of my 20's. Maybe I was just more set in my ways because I was older? Maybe it has nothing to do with that and more to do with the fact that I'm a spoiled only child that only had to ever worry about myself and my dog? I'm not sure, but I'm just being honest here, I miss my pre-child life once in awhile.

No one told me that I might feel this way. I don't feel guilt over these feelings anymore because I have accepted them as being normal. I might have even shared these exact emotions before and I'm repeating myself, but so be it. It feels good to be honest and get it off my chest right now.

Yet another thing about motherhood that is interesting to me is the "OMG, my kid does ::::fill in the blank here:::: and s/he must be the only one to do it because ZOMG it's so bad/different/good, etc.". Does this make sense?

Allow me to give examples.

When Lily was a newborn and suffered from silent reflux, I felt like the only mother alive dealing with this kind of issue on this level, even though logically I knew I wasn't.

When Lily wouldn't sleep through the night from 3.5 months of age until, oh, about 3 months ago, I SWORE that NO ONE has it this bad with their child's sleep.

When Lily got all of her teeth between the ages of 6 month to a year, aside from her 2 year molars, I was SURE that God was only torturing my kid, and, well, me.

When Lily had a 105 degree temperature when she was 13 months old, I was certain that no mother worried this much because surely no 13 month old has been this sick.

When Lily had a difficult time transitioning into school, obviously no child has been this difficult with all of the crying.

And these feelings can go for good, positive things, too...

When Lily falls down and skins her knees up, she rarely cries so she must be tougher than others.

Lily speaks in sentences already so she must be advanced.

And so on.

Logically, as a mother, you know that every parent goes through similar milestones, aches, pains, challenges, etc., and we are not different from others at all, but as a first time mother, I have felt like the only one on earth to go through certain things with such intensity. Perhaps it's just the way I deal with parenting issues and my feelings reveal how truly unprepared for motherhood I was. Feeling how difficult, exhilarating, tiring, joyous, heartwarming, :::insert any other adjective here::: with such passion has always taken me by surprise in this motherhood journey. Just going through so many experiences and situations that you cannot truly imagine, before you're there and living them, is so intense.

Most recently, Lily said,

"Mommy, I love you, mommy"

And I was certain that no other human has felt this special and this emotional over these simple words.

Well, Lily, you're in your second week of school...and it isn't going well... yet. You think that you love it after we've left and I ask you about it, but when you're there....not so much.
There are only 6 kids in your class, including you, and you're only there 6 hours a week, but you miss us when you're there. Your teacher is amazing, and so is the assistant, but you just don't love it...yet. Miss Vicki says that you say, "All done? Home?" most of the day. When I pick you up, you give me a pouty face and sometimes cry, just to show how unhappy you are. I caught you having fun a couple of times though, before you saw me. You love to play with Miss Leslie and Colton and Lola are your favorite friends so far.

Here is a typical conversation on the car ride home:
Mama: Did you have fun at school today?
Lily: YES. (Very stern, as though I scripted you to answer this way.)
Mama: What did you do?
Lily: Went owsigh. Paint.
Mama: Do you like Miss Vicki?
Lily: Yes. Miss Mickey.
Mama: What about Miss Leslie?
Lily: Lessssslieeeee. :smile:
Mama: Miss Vicki said you didn't want to paint today. Why didn't you paint?
Lily: I crwyying.
Mama: Mama doesn't want you to cry. Did you miss mama?
Lily: Yes. Miss mama. Lub mama.
Mama: Maybe you will try painting next time?
Lily: YES.

(How crazy is it that I have full conversations with you now?)

So, school isn't quite your thing yet, but we're going to keep trying for awhile. I can't stand that you cry as much as you do there but I know you'll love it soon enough.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You are definitely growing and developing so quickly, as always. You have a fantastic sense of humor and you are doing so many cute/funny things that it's too much to list here. One little nuance that I love is when you're playing with me, you cover your head with a blanket, pull it off and say, "THERE SHE IS!!", mimicking what I always say. Another great example is when you say, "I'm fiiiiiiiiine", or, "I'm ooookkkkkkkaayyyy", when you hurt yourself or you're scared. Again, you just mimic what I say to you to soothe you. It's so cute.

You use your words appropriately the majority of the time, saying "want" when you are hungry for something specific, and things of the like.
You love playing with my jewelry and constantly ask to "put on".
When I ask you if you love mama, you say, "love mama, love daddy, love bop bop, love nana", immediately going down the list of "loves".
You really don't like your bath anymore. I think it's because you correlate it to bedtime now and God knows you CAN'T miss anything. You stand up in the bath the whole entire time. It's funny.
You're napping and sleeping better lately :::knocks on wood::::. You're pretty much an 8pm-7:30am sleeper and a 1-2:30 napper.
You have the biggest sweet tooth. I wonder where you got that from?? :::as I shove chocolate chips in my mouth:::
You're starting to show a few signs of being close to ready for potty training...but I'm not quite ready for that yet.
You're favorite pastime is running on the couch. You get reprimanded about 100 times a day now, which obviously holds no weight. As a matter of a fact, you reprimand me back and say, "Mama, no wrunin", with your finger pointed at me.
You've learned the word "shit", thanks to me. Opps. Thankfully you've only said it once.

I cannot believe you're going to be 2 in 3 months. How can that possibly be?

I have been agonizing over daycare and I blame the women's movement. No, really. I do.

I am reading this awesome book, that was borrowed to me by a friend, called I Was a Really Good Mom Before I Had Kids, which I believe that every new-ish mom should read, and it talks about exactly this: semi blaming the women's/feminist movement for all of our choices as females. I could seriously quote this book all the live long day because it is that.good. but I'll just highlight this for now:

"Yes, we are grateful for the women who fought and worked so hard to give us all of these advantages. The feminist movement opened doors, enabling and inspiring us to go for what we truly want in life. But the women's movement, as far as we're concerned, is still a work in progress. Self-actualization is a lot easier to talk about than it is to attain. How to "do it"- to be empowered, to take our own lives by the reins, to have children and be happy, all at the same time- is something most of us have yet to figure out".

Choices can sometimes prove to be a burden instead of a blessing, is what I took away from this section of the book. Choices can be dangerous.

Would I be bitching if we weren't given any choices like our grandmothers? Probably, but let me just go off on this tangent for awhile since we're living in this day and age.

As women, we DO do it all. Sure, some may not be the ones to pay the bills or take out the trash but for the most part we run our households and make the major decisions when it comes to our children. It's a lot of fucking pressure. We have so many choices and there are so many "what ifs" that go along with raising a child, it can be overwhelming.

I should back up and explain where I'm going with this...

I am a full time working mother. Yes, I work from home and NO, it isn't as glamourous as it sounds. It downright sucks sometimes because of having a lack of focus when I'm listening to a tantrum-ing toddler from the other room. Plus, I run a sales force...actually, I run an entire company. It isn't easy, but I'm very fortunate to have this job. It pays well and I get to work in my jammies.

Enter childcare. We are very lucky to have both sets of Lily's grandparents within a 3 mile radius of us. They are very helpful but still have their own jobs and lives...which leaves us the option of day care to fill in the gaps. We have been making due without daycare for 20 months but it has been more than a challenge at times.

Pre-Lily I was ALLLLL about daycare and the benefits of it. So many of my friends have their children in daycare and they are so well adjusted- the kids and the parents. It all made sense, in theory, to sign Lily up for a couple of days a week. She has been on a waiting list since early November at the only reputable daycare facility in town.

Well, her turn came up sooner than expected, thanks to a friend that works there. I got the call last Friday from the director that Lily could start Tuesday. "The all-day hours are from 7:30-5:30", the director told me. I was starting to feel panic in my throat, instead of excitement, for Lily's new endeavor. "Ok", I say, "I will be right over to get the registration forms".

And so I did.
I go to the school, talk with the director, get the student handbook, go over the list of (enormous, ridiculous) fees...panic, not excitement. I meet the teacher. She is wonderful...until...she says..."I don't allow pacifiers or baby blankets here". Holy Christ, I almost started crying right then and there.
"Oh.", I say, "Well, Lily will scream without those things. She is a self soother. And she won't sleep.".
I could barely speak at that point because I was holding back tears. I felt as though someone was holding a gun to my head and telling me how things were going to be for MY child.

I left there, bawling, feeling defeated and scared for Lily. "She's still a baby. She needs her paci and her 'baby'. She's not going to sleep. She's going to be miserable and think we abandoned her. She's going to cry all day. Jesus, I can't do this." So many thoughts.

And then it hit me...I have choices here. "What about half days? What about saying screw it and just leaving the plan we had in place? What about this? What about that?". Good Lord, the choices. I was truly agonizing over this all weekend. Sleep was lost.

That's when I started hating the whole "females are equal" charade. Mrs. Cleaver didn't have these fucking decisions to make for her family! She raised her kids, cooked and cleaned and THAT was her place, damnit. She knew her role. It was as simple as that. We, as females, belong in the kitchen barefoot and pregnant. And we shouldn't be able to vote either!

I really don't believe any of the above paragraph but perhaps the thought of a "simpler time" sounds intriguing to me when things get complicated. I wonder if times were, indeed, simpler at some point, or if that is just something we all dream of?

I am glad, however, that the women's movement has allowed me to me a choice about cooking. I don't do it and that is completely acceptable. Thank you, Gloria Steinem.

Something very obvious occurred to me...
Dustin and I are the strongest figures that Lily knows, emotionally.
This was a bit of a frightening realization to me and I'm a bit embarrassed as to why this thought even came to me.

I am an Mtv junkie. I watch all of the ridiculous reality shows, (because God knows they don't run anything to do with music anymore), one of which is Teen Mom. The title is self explanatory. It is an AWFUL train wreck of a show, exploiting young mothers to a teenage audience (except me) making motherhood look doable and at times almost easy. I hate the show with a fiery passion for those reasons because I truly believe that it may actually entice young, impressionable high schoolers to get knocked up because, "OMFG Y'all, I CAN BE ON MTV!!!!11", but, I'm feeding the monster by watching this garbage. Don't ask me why.

Anyway, there is a lovely young girl named Leah, I believe, who has twins on this show. In the last episode, one of her twins, at the age of 7 months, was taken to the doctor for a very obvious deformities in her legs and arms. (How on God's green earth this girl did not recognize these deformities before the age of 7 months is well beyond me.)

After the doctor's appointment, Leah and her babies' daddy sat on the bed of their pick up truck  and discusses the stress of what was happening. Leah, clearly distraught with worry, cried on babies' daddy's shoulder and babies daddy said, "You're the mom. You've got to be strong. We are the strongest people in her life. We're all she knows about strength". 

Spoken out of the mouths of babes. Seriously, a seventeen year old made those statements and I, a 34 year old woman, had a fucking revelation. I am Lily's strength. I (and Dustin) are all Lily knows as safety, security, normalcy, and comfort. I am her mom and she will always need me to be strong.

This is scary to me. I am not empowered by this. I am terrified. This is where my over analysis of things and "what if" thinking is a very big detriment. My over thinking goes into overdrive.

I know I can do this and I know I will do this and play this role....but what if there is a situation where I just can't be that strong? I mean, Jesus, I still need my parents for so much, how do I now become...them?? How did my parents make this part look so easy? Being someone's entire strength and support is a tall order. You would have thought that this would have occurred to me before conception. I'm a little slow, perhaps.

A day at a time and a lot of deep breathing.

I have a school drop out.
I will eventually post about our adventures in child care issues, but for now, all I can discuss is the look on my poor baby's face when I picked her up after only an hour of "school".

This is one of the billion issues that I never understood pre-baby: dropping your kid off at school. "What's the big deal?", I used to think. "The kid NEEDS socialization!", I would rationalize.

Well, yes, they do need socialization and perhaps in the grand scheme of life it truly isn't a big deal to drop your child off for the first time, but for Lily, the world seemed to come to a complete halt on Thursday January 6, 2011.

Backing up a bit...
We have a wonderful program called "Mom's Morning Out" at one of the local Methodist churches. Virtually all of my friends that live locally have had some experience with this program, or the daycare at this church. Highly recommended.

So, last month Lily and I went and observed one Thursday to see what it was all about. It could not have been a better scenario: brightly lit room, filled with age appropriate toys and bright colors, a teacher/student ratio of 2/2, snacks, and lots of smiling faces. They were even making a craft to celebrate Christmas that appropriately stated, "Happy Birthday Jesus" on them. It was like the room was puking rainbows and sunshine.

After about 20-30 minutes of observing, we left there and I was thinking, "I can totally do this. Dropping her off here will be a breeze. She won't even miss me with this kind of attention."; basically all good thoughts. Plus, it's only for 4 hours, a far cry from the 8 that daycare would be, (had there been a spot available for Lily, which was our original intention).

January 6th would be here start date, I was told. I was a bit anxious the night beforehand, more so than I ever anticipated feeling, but I was also feeling confident.  

I can do this. 
Lily can do this. 
We have to do this for socialization!

My mantras were helping my anxiety.
That next morning I packed her a lunch, a diaper bag, made myself some coffee and off we went.
Things started out great. We were the first ones there and Miss Dorothy and Miss Diana engaged Lily right away. I slipped out, whispering, "Bye, Lils. I'll be back soon", completely unnoticed.
I shed a couple tears as I drove away. This was a milestone for us, being that only family has cared for her these past 20 months. She was becoming a big girl and I no longer has this tiny little baby depending on me for every little thing. I reminisced for a few minutes until the ring of my cell phone snapped me out of it, which happened to be work related. "Perfect", I thought. THIS is why Lily is in the program, so I can get some work done.
I get situated at my desk after arriving home. After about 30 minutes I receive a text from my friend Leslie that works in the daycare portion of the church. She had checked on Lily for me. Here was our exchange:

Leslie: I just checked on Lily. She's sitting with her blanket :)
Me: Awww, thank you! Is she sad?? (Bells went off in my head because Lily typically does not just sit with her blanket)
Leslie: Truthfully, yes. You can tell she's been crying, but it's normal. She wasn't crying when I saw her though, which is very good for someone who has never been in school before.

Ugh. She's upset. She's sad. I felt terrible. I should have never asked if Lily was sad. My mother's guilt was in overdrive and I could barely focus on anything other than the thought of Lily sitting, rubbing her blanket, wondering where mommy is.

20 minutes later, my phone rings and it was Miss Dorothy..."Vanessa, you may want to come and get Lily. She's not doing terribly, but she has been crying most of the time. It just isn't worth her being this upset if you can come and get her".

Ugh.

I pull into the parking lot and all I can see is my sweet little redhead's swollen, blotchy face in the window, as she was being held by Miss Dorothy, sobbing. It was that type of hyperventilating sobbing where she couldn't catch her breath.

Ugh.

We gathered her things and I apologized over and over, as the ladies told me how normal this was, begging me to try again next week. Lily never clung to me so tight or looked so sad, yet so relieved to see me.

So starts the "letting go"...for both of us. As traumatizing as it was her for her, it was equally traumatizing for me, all said and done. BUT, how amazing that she will not remember it.

And, we will try again next week. This shall prove to be quite a transition, I'm sure.

Today was an outstanding day. It was one of those days when everything was just in sync, life made complete sense, and, dare I say it, being a mom was actually...easy.

Today was the type of day that I had imagined before I was a mom. A day of relaxation, play time, eating leftovers from Christmas, snuggling, napping...just the pure simplicity of mama and daughter.

There were no tantrums, and as a matter of fact, there weren't even tears. A moment or two of whining, yes, but that's manageable. Perhaps this was just a result of holiday exhaustion but Lily and I were content just... being.

Today, Lily was my buddy, my sidekick, and every single bit of my happiness.

These days erase the bad days. These days make me sad when the clock approaches bedtime. These days make me wonder who the child was that I was speaking about in my Thanksgiving post. These days are amazing.