Am I THAT Mom?

Don't be deceived by how my arm looks in this picture. I am getting some serious guns from bouncing Sadie in her preferred style: bouncing in my arms up in the air. When the lactic acid builds up and I start to see stars, I sometimes try to "cheat" by putting her on my knee and bouncing her from there to give my arms a break, but she catches on in about 3 bounces and starts crying, so back up we go. I didn't know that having a baby would be the route to my Linda Hamilton biceps. Having a child is a full body experience and I am not just talking about the breast feeding.

Speaking of breastfeeding-- what a difficult and complex thing it is. Holy milk maids, it's really hard. At three weeks, I almost gave up because the pain in my right breast (that, incidentally we named Fred Couples after the famously down to earth golfer). Then, just like the nausea of the first trimester, it became bearable. Now, I almost can't tell the difference between Fred Couples and my left breast, which bears the name George Hincapie, after the hot cyclist. If someone asked me for advice on breastfeeding, I would say two things: 1. Get as much support as you can to hang in there because there may be a magic moment when the pain lightens and 2. Name your breasts after famous sports legends because it might just be ludicrious enough to help you shift into a more pleasant phase of a really difficult part of early motherhood.

Is it any wonder so few people ask me for advice?

Right now I am flush from victory. I have spend a great part of the day with Sadie, culminating in a new high: I comforted her to the music of my choosing (Michael Jackson's Man in the Mirror (or Baby in the Mirror at my house)) and she is now swinging peacefully in the swing while adult music is playing. What's this emphasis on adult music? Usually, when Sadie is around we listen to her CD. Her CD is a 5-track musical abomination-- it's actually "white noise," such as rain falling or a blow dryer. It's supposed to soothe Sadie by reminding her of the sounds she heard in the womb. All I know is that we have a copy of Sadie's Soundtrack in our house and in our car. Nothing like cruising down North Avenue to the rousing tunes of the blow dryer hoping that Sadie will STOP melting down long enough to catch her breath before I crash the car into the Hollywood Diner.

So, it's a big deal that I made an executive decision to sing actual music to Sadie and if she knew what was good for her she would surrender to sleep because I was going to just keep singing in her ear. My Michael Jackson falsetto impression isn't pretty. And, Sadie is smart so she surrendered quicker than ever to the sleep that she earned by listening to me sing. It's funny-- the books say that babies like to hear sing-song voices at this stage. I keep trying to think of songs to sing her her, but the only songs I know all the words to are just plain inappropriate. There are some Bible songs, but I feel guilty singing those to her since I can't say exactly where I stand on the Bible and then there's the whole "Sadie, your dad's Jewish," which would only further muddy the waters. Then, today this song from local band Moonshine Willy popped into my head. It's beyond inappropriate because it's about a woman who buried her baby alive. Um, nice, Christie. I tell myself it's ok because look at all those old fashioned lullabyes-- they are all about harm befalling little ones. "Rockabye baby in the tree tops, when the bough breaks the cradle will rock." That's really nice. Hey, everyone, let's sing songs about babies falling out of treetops. And then there's Ring Around the Rosie, which is a celebration of the plague, which basically oblitered the population of Europe. Looks like I am not the only one who has struggled with ambivalent feelings toward my offspring. I am in good company....with all of Western Civilization.

So, Sadie is sleeping away. We had a nice morning at the Green City market, which was so pleasant and happy and kid-friendly it almost broke my heart to be there. I felt so lucky to be sitting in the shade with a sleeping Sadie, hanging out with a good friend, surrounded by all manner of organic food stuffs, watching dozens of kids run around in the cool breezes. How could I improve on that in any way?

She's doing great taking the bottle and we can spend more time with her where she's just hanging out with us. Every now and then it looks like we get a smile from her. Usually she smiles when she's sitting on the changing table, which may be because she associates that with having her diaper changed and being warm and cozy. I love just hanging out with her and the times when she's crying are getting easier to handle. When I start to get edgy and desperate with a desire for her to STOP. CRYING. RIGHT. NOW. I visualize her working out some emotion or energy that is really none of my business. I can picture her and her Higher Power deciding that crying and screaming is the next right thing for her and my job is to let go-- once I am sure she is safe, fed, burped, comforted, and I have made my presence known, my job is to back off. Her spells of discomfort seem to pass more quickly when I keep my cool and trust her little process. Easier during the day than at 4:00 a.m., but I am working on finding my mama zen place at any hour of the day.