Sunday, November 16, 2014

A year in the making

As with everything on the site, this post is overdue. I've been writing this in my head over the past year -- in the rocking chair while I nurse Malia to sleep each nap/night, in bed when I can't sleep, in the shower (when I am able to sneak one in).  Every quiet, hushed moment I've had the past year, I've been making notes. This post could be long, very long, so this is the abbreviated version.

Becoming a parent has been no joke. The Great Samoan Hunter and I have laughed at those couples who decide to make a baby as the last ditch effort to save their marriages. As amazing, miraculous and enriching having a baby is, it is also the most harrowing, testing and turbulent enterprise I've ever undertaken.

Our dramatic lifestyle shift from the country to the city provided me, my husband, our dog, our marriage, our grocery shopping bill with a host of new opportunities, the good, the bad and the expensive. I no longer have to drive forty-five minutes to the grocery store and Tuli no longer runs free for miles chasing birds out the front door. The Great Samoan Hunter now works 8 - 5, Monday through Friday with holidays off and even earns, wait for it, comp time. I work from home now. Translation: I furiously try to research, interview, transcribe, write and edit between naps, housework and life. For those of you who knew us in a previous life, the fabric of our careers looks nothing like it did a year ago. For that matter, the fabric of our lives resembles nothing of that life on the River.

I can sum up the past two years in a few words. We got married, my husband shot me, I spent the winter healing (gained a few extra baby-making-carrying pounds), we went on our delayed honeymoon in the land of coconut milk and honey where we, um, made a baby, we worked a final season at the Lodge, we moved to Boise, three weeks later we had a baby.

The purpose of this post, said baby.

Scan the Internet or social media and there are myriad blogs, websites, experts, parents, doctors and idiots inundating consumers (me, the new mom) with advice. Over the past year, I have devoured everything I can get my hands on in an attempt to better understand X topic (why can't I figure out this f*ng latch, OMG she has reflux, colic, lactose intolerance, why is she waking up every forty-five minutes, why is she sleeping so much, which diaper cream is best, should I use diaper cream, crying it out, cosleeping, baby carrying, teething, making homemade baby food, early reading?). You get the idea.

I follow all of these moms on Instagram and Pinterest who I both love and hate because they inspire me while at the same time making me super insecure. What I've finally realized and come to accept after a year of comparisons is that as the mom of my own toddling one year old, I am pretty pleased with how we're doing thus far.

Having a child has been the best learning experience for me, and those lessons began before she even took her first breath. However long-winded and meandering my thoughts, the purpose of this post is to celebrate my girl and share a few of the incredible lessons she's taught me, of which I try to remember and act upon each day.

Don't have expectations. I planned a natural, peaceful, seamless, vaginal delivery without drugs or drama. My delivery was high intensity, pain, emotion and drama. Malia made it very clear, very early that despite my wishes to be in control of every situation, I am not the driver of this car.

Getting shot taught me that life changes in an instant. Having a baby reinforced that. Of everything I've learned since this little person entered my life is the appreciation (and fear, to be honest) that it could all evaporate tomorrow. Sure there are moments when I find myself biting my lip in frustration, questioning myself as my mom and apologizing to Malia and everyone around me for my impatience. I try not to let my neurosis get the better of me because my days are so much more enjoyable when I step away from the computer, the dishwasher, the laundry and play with my girl. I tell myself daily, she will never be this little again. And I want to sob.

I'm as much the student as I am the teacher. One gem I've garnered from the attachment parenting philosophy is that I'm not here to force my routine on Malia. Rather, I need to work around what works best for her. Some parents may think I'm coo coo, but our days truly ebb and flow based on her rhythm. That's not to say we don't have routines, do you think I'd be writing this if we didn't have some structure? But learning to give up some control and allow my little person to be just that a creative, independent, confident little person has been a joy. She is my leader just as much as I'm her grasshopper.

It really does take a village. Malia has an army of people who love her. Few things make me happier than knowing she is supported from every angle. I love that we/she can reach out to all of our/her friends, family, neighbors when we/she needs something, anything. You really can't have too many people love your kid.

On that note, I never dreamed I could love someone/something like I do Malia. It's really impossible to put into words a parent's love for a child, and everyone tells you how profound it is. Before I had Malia, I thought I loved my dog. No, it's totally not the same. Sorry Tuli. This little baby who is now very much a toddler has transformed me into a more patient, more hopeful, more selfless, quicker bather/pee-er/groceryshopper/dishwasher-loader/typer girl turned mother.

That's just it, Malia has turned me into a mother. I am forever grateful for that opportunity. I love you so very much. Happy birthday, lovie.



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