THE ROOKIE

This is a follow up blog to my previous entry, IF IT AIN'T BROKE.


Before my sweet Calli was born, I foolishly longed for my stay-at-home mom days. I couldn't wait for all the free time! Chores would be done, I would be able to operate on my own time-table and I would have a cute baby girl to dress up.

Within weeks of her birth, I found out what a joke that was. Instead, I discovered that newborns rock your world more than anything else ever can.

Let's start with schedule: I operated on hers. PURELY.

Screaming: Happened every night from 7-10 pm and in the car ALWAYS. Evening calm only came on the “sleep train”, i.e. Dan or I pacing around our one-bedroom apartment with dimmed lights and lullabies in the background. Calli’s comfort orders: “Oh, no pacifier, please. Thumb sucking? That’s for babies. Cuddling? No, I want to see the world!”

Eating: Snack nursing was how she’d have it. Five minutes here, five minutes there with a lot of fussing and non-burping (unsuccessful attempts) in between. Side refusal was common. Bottles were not an option. Wondering what the heck I was eating that was making her this way? Constant thought on my mind. Rearranged diets? You bet. Successful? No.

Sleeping: This was the worst. Nights (if you can call them that) were average, but the day time was what killed me. She only took two 40 minute naps a day. Time only to take a shower (but not dry your hair) and cram a few bran muffins in your mouth. Or time only to decide what to do next: Sleep when your baby sleeps? Shower? Eat something healthy? Make something healthy? Dishes? Bills? Laundry? Clean? Do something nice for husband? Exercise? Spend time with church calling? Spend time doing something I enjoy? Read? Read scriptures? All noble things. I never new where to start and usually didn’t.

Nap Extension Tries: Going from bouncing arms, to cradle, to bouncing arms, to cradle, to Baby Bjorn, to stroller (after climbing a flight of stairs, locking one door, unlocking another and avoiding getting slammed by them), to undoing the stroller mess, to nursing, to pacing, to bouncing arms, to cradle, AT LAST! was common. We eventually got it down to Baby Bjorn and stopped there.

Not wanting to focus only on the negative here, let’s move on to some other things.

Diapers: Champion. Calli had more than the hospital tally sheet required.

Development: Ahead of the game. Rolling over at six weeks, very alert and kicking ALL DAY. Bicycle kicks under the ceiling fan were her specialty.

Spitting Up: Hardly ever happened.

Appearance: She was beautiful. I couldn’t ask for more.

Looking back, Calli was a demanding little infant. She probably would've been defined as a colicky baby, though I hesitated to ever label her as such. How would I dare know? I was a new mom and refused to make excuses for behavior that could've been very typical. She was simply learning how to sleep, to cope with her new world.

Because of this, I struggled with feeling in control of my life. I rarely got things done that I wanted to. I imagine this is a common tale, but for me it seemed worse. I'm a workaholic, control-freak and borderline OCD (self-diagnosis). But I felt like I was treading water just to make it day to day. I needed to swim, and not just laps, I wanted to swim to destinations. I wanted to feel like I was getting somewhere. I wanted to progress in life and not just survive it.

I can remember a day that was particularly bad. The specifics are gone now, but it seemed to be a day that was a combination of all the above newborn disasters. By the time Dan came home from work, I'd had it. My arms were shaking from fatigue. I’d literally held her ALL DAY. I was exhausted and embarrassed that I’d accomplished little. I felt like a failure on ALL fronts.

With welling eyes, I turned to my recently returned home husband and said, "I'm sorry, but I've done nothing today." He looked at me with kindness and quietly said, "But you HAVE done something today. You've been taking care of our baby." These words seemed to pour slowly out of his mouth, as if I was to REALLY hear them and absorb every syllable.

I started thinking about it. He was right. This baby was clean, dressed and most likely had a fresh diaper on. She'd had at least what counted for one or two good feedings that day. She had a mother who'd tried everything in her power to make her happy.

The principle I learned during my 'a-ha' moment of motherhood is relatively simple (and probably nothing new for you seasoned moms), but the discovery of it is what made it profound. I have an excellent husband to thank for that. He truly believes the lesson he taught me. He supports me when I spend time with Calli regardless of what else needs to be done, and he NEVER ONCE EVER has complained when dinner wasn't ready at the end of the day (or even started) or when laundry wasn't caught up (though he has never had to go without clothes). I, however, notice when things on my "Honey-Do" list aren't getting checked off as quickly as I want.

So now I try to make more time for the park, stories, swimming and hide-and-go seek. I think of the quote I learned in college more often, "It matters more what you do WITH a child, rather than what you do FOR them." I try to notice the good my husband does every day and remember he does A LOT away from home that I don't see. I am trying to be a more hands-on mom and a less critical wife. I am trying to find a balance between my "mommy work" and my "house work" and whatever other tasks I do on a daily basis.

Thankfully, I have a lifetime and more to figure it out.