Being Yourself and Mama

When a woman becomes a mother, there is inevitably a change. You are Mama 100% of the time. Your tastes in music, movies and books don't change, but instead widens to allow room for your kids' interests. Priorities change as well. Your career may not be as important as you once thought, or may become even more important if you're trying to make more money for your family. You'll find that sometimes "a night out" means you and your little man or darling daughter (and possibly your significant other) at McDonald's or a chain restaurant when it used to mean drinks and dancing or dinner at an expensive, classy restaurant.

But people tend to forget that you are also still just you. You still want to read your Dean Koontz instead of parenting articles and books (although the latter may take up any time you might have had for the former). When you're alone in the car (on those rare occasions) the radio goes back to the rock or country station instead of the kid cd's. You still enjoy a nice glass of wine, a cold wine cooler or an ice cold beer.

Some parents let their kids stay up as late as they can in order to get them to sleep late in the morning. Personally, my son has a 7 to 8pm bedtime. "Why?" you may ask. Well, I still want some time to myself. When Ick takes a nap, I am either doing laundry or catching some z's myself. But after he goes to bed, that's my time to sit back, relax and just be me. I may play EverQuest2, read a book, play games on Facebook or watch TV that doesn't revolve around toys, talking animals or learning the ABC's and 123's.

While my son is asleep, I'm still Mama. I still listen for his cries in case he wakes up, I peek in on him on my way to the bathroom to hear his deep, sleeping breaths and I try to decide what to dress him in and feed him the next day. Like I said before, I'm Mama 100% of the time, but there needs to be a time when I get to be myself again.

When my son grows up and goes away to college or moves away from home, I don't want to be left adrift and lost because I don't know who I am anymore. I went through self-discovery (and still am) and don't want to have to start all over in 18 (or so) years. Also, being sure of myself and being my own person gives my son a strong figure to lean on during his adolescent years when he is trying to figure out just who he is.

I still have needs, wants, interests, likes and dislikes that extend beyond my little boy. Yes, he is the center and he is my world. But, just as there are stars and planets beyond Earth, I extend beyond my Sweet Cheeks. Even if I only have time for my books during breaks and lunches at work, so be it. If I get an adult night out once every 6 months, I can deal with that. But because I make time for myself, I am a calmer and more sane Mama the rest of the time. Knowing there are a few hours of peace and quiet at the end of the day makes any crazy, hectic, whiney day bearable.

And as for anyone who claims their job is their "adult" time? You're crazy. You still have to take care of others and it comes naturally and understandably. I myself work retail and am constantly soothing upset customers, cleaning up after kids and adults alike, and always on the move. Work is NOT the time to "be yourself," as you must be the model employee.

So find yourself a full, uninterrupted hour (at least) of "you time" and therefore find your sanity. Set a bedtime for your kids because not only is it good for you, it's good for them to have structure and rules. (Plus, it'll be much easier on all of you when the time comes for your kiddos to start school!) Read a book with more than 4 words per sentence, watch a movie that hasn't been rated G, or (for this time of year) just sit back with a glass of "adult" eggnog and turn out the lights to better enjoy the glowing Christmas tree.

Enjoy being you. Because come 6 or 7am... It's back to being Mama!

Developmental Anxiety

In August of 2009, one of the most wonderful OB/GYN's I'd ever had the pleasure of meeting, delivered my beautiful son into the world via c-section. He was 6lbs, 8.5oz and 21in long. When I briefly saw his face before being put under the finish up the surgery, I cried tears of joy and total pride in the incredibly small, helpless infant. In that moment, he was the best of me. When I finally got to hold him to my chest and kiss his precious face, I swore to myself that I would do everything right. I wouldn't push him to learn too fast, but I'd teach him as early as possible so he could get a head start on literacy the way my mother taught my siblings and me. I wouldn't agonize over whether he was walking or talking "on schedule" and I would give him the best meals and never skimp on nutrition. Basically, I did what most first time mothers do: I set my standards sky high!

Since then, I've given in to Kix and yogurt for dinner, bedtime "babas" and dozing on the couch while my little man plays on the floor. I'm naturally a quiet person when I'm 'alone' and have a hard time holding up a one-sided conversation so sometimes Ick doesn't get as much exposure to words as he should. He is now 15 months old (well on the way to 16 months) and knows about 5 words and still isn't walking alone. I am anxious when I shouldn't be. A former co-worker of mine had her son almost 4 months after I had mine and he is walking unsupported already. He isn't even a year old yet and it causes me worry. I have a hard time remembering my friend's son has an older sibling (a sister who is in the neighborhood of 5 years old) to chase after whereas Ick only spends two afternoons a week with his cousin (who is about 22 months) and they don't play very well together. They pretty much play alone in the same room, ha ha.

When Ick does say the words he knows, I praise him and lavish kisses and "Yay!"s on him. I walk with him every day holding just one hand, encouraging him to walk alone, stumbles and all, building his confidence.

Regardless of everything the parenting articles say about each child being on their own time-table, I still struggle with letting my active ball of energy go at his own pace.

He shows no interest in books other than holding them open and babbling as if he were actually reading it for about 5 seconds then throwing it down to grab a car and spin it's wheels. His interests lie mostly in wheels and anything else that spins or things that open and close (like doors and books). Buttons, switches (other than light switches) shapes, colors: none of those interest him for more than about 3 seconds when he realizes there's nothing to open or spin. This lack of exploration bothers me as well.

Shouldn't he be able to sit for 2 minutes while I read a baby book? Shouldn't he be able to put shapes in their respective holes, or at least want to try? Shouldn't he want to look at pretty colors and point to them? He still reaches out with his whole hand.

It's not all negativity and worry. I do let him eat with a fork and he's very good at it. He enjoys feeding himself and often won't eat at all unless I let him do it himself. It takes forever but I try to sit patiently.

I know that my time for worrying has only begun and I can't control every aspect of my baby's life forever. I can only keep trying to reign in my anxiety so it doesn't show when I interact with Ick. I can only keep trying to better myself so that I can be the best parent I'm capable of being.

These next 17 years are not just about this energetic whirlwind of potential growing up and maturing, it's about me doing the same.