She’s eating solids and loves everything. Rice cereal, sweet potatoes, acorn squash, the occasional banana, and pears. She’s in 6-9 month clothes with the length getting iffy on some of those pants. She’s taking good naps and is back to sleeping through the night. Her first tooth just came through on the bottom middle! She can sit up, she can roll over, and she loves playing with noisy toys now.

We had a really fun weekend celebrating Christmas with my parents and sisters’ family in town. Penny absolutely loved watching and playing with my sisters’ kids, and they were so good at playing gently and including her. Next week we’ll see the other side of the family, and I know she’s gonna love interacting with Matt’s nieces and nephews as well.

Our days have been busy hosting parties and guests, but this week it has started to calm down and we are back to the usual – laundry, errands, a trip to the library and out to pick up Matt’s Christmas gift. She continues to be great when I drag her all over kingdom come, although she hates riding in her carseat, which will make our drive to NJ next week very interesting.

For every rough night we have had in the past month with constipation and teething and growth spurts, we have three or four fabulous days together, and I still can’t believe how blessed I am to have her as my daily companion. When I realize that I am halfway to my breastfeeding goal (if I can make it that long! UGH!), I realize how quickly this first year really flies by. I have a feeling the second half will speed by even faster than the first with all her many upcoming milestones.

And as for her smile, well it just melts me.

From Daily Daguerreotype

I cried like a baby when I dropped him off, which the lovely lady working that miserable job was quite sensitive to. This was the epitome of logical decisions, something I am infamous for rarely making, and at the very end my impulsive, emotional side wanted to snatch him back and drive home with him coddled in my arms. But I didn’t. I just drove home crying, and drowning my sorrows in an iced coffee from Dunkin Donuts (they never taste as good down here) which I ordered via the drive-in window with my sunglasses hiding my tear-streaked face.

I gave him a home for the past seven years until our love/hate relationship eventually soured to the point where he needed a new forever home. For the first few years I was fine cleaning up after him daily, but then we got a dog that was actually more low-maintenance than our cat, and I started to reconsider his place in our family. And then we had a baby. No matter how hard I tried she still shoved chunks of cat fur into her gullet every day, and I dreaded the day she learned to crawl.

I have lived 28 years and only four of them were lived without a cat. Ok, a few more than that, but only four where I actually had to clean up after myself. And it was in college, during which I was certainly not very tidy. Yesterday and today I have been scouring our home cleaning up the cat fur from every imaginable surface, and reveling in the thought that in the future I will merely be cleaning up dust… not clingy white fur. I can wear black again. I can sleep at night without a ball between my ankles. I can stumble to the bathroom in the middle of the night without stepping on a fresh, wet hairball.

In other words… I could get used to a cat-less existance.

If I can ever get over my guilt.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, my daughter isn’t sleeping for the second week in a row! Last week it was constipation, this week it’s teething. She is so miserable, and my heart breaks for her. Orajel doesn’t seem to do anything since I’m guessing the pain is deep in her gums. So last night I started her on infant Tylenol and some homeopathic thing which is like The! Best! Thing! Ever!!!! And we both got a little bit of sleep. The timing of it all, in the midst of holiday fun and business, is really almost comical, and I keep telling myself that if this stress continues much longer the inevitable upswing is gonna rock my face off. I mean, eventually things are going to get So! SO! GOOD! Right!?

Post cut short. She’s crying, and I’ve gotta go.

But I love the supportive community of motherhood so much, that I very much want to share what I’m thinking or learning through the process. So when I hesitate to write these blog posts I push through it imagining that those same idyllic mothers do not take recycling seriously. Idyllic non-recycling mothers, I JUDGE YOU. SEPARATE YOUR PAPERS AND PLASTICS!

I also hesitate to write openly about my spirituality because I have a vast audience of Catholics, Protestants, Jews, Buddhists and Atheists. Perhaps there is a Muslim out there in the crowd!? Wouldn’t that be wonderful! Not only do I want to be very respectful of where YOU are coming from, I also have a personal rule of drawing certain lines. Despite the fact that I might seem to over-share in certain ways, my spirituality is the core of who I really am, and I tend to only share that with a select few people. Typically offline. In fact, most of those people don’t even read my blog. They don’t know what blogs are. By not sharing my spiritual beliefs online, I get to preserve that very beautiful and intimate part of my life and share it only with the realest and truest of my friends.

But I’m tossing all of that aside for this post because I haven’t slept in days. And yesterday I had Taco Bell for lunch even though I am on a diet. Rules!? What?! I’ve thrown them all out with yesterday’s bathwater in which Penelope peed.

We had a marvelous Thanksgiving. For five days straight I ate somebody else’s food, dirtied somebody else’s house, and took long showers while somebody else played with my kid. It was extraordinarily relaxing.

And then we came home.

At first I thought Penelope’s strange and fussy behavior was because of our red-eye flights and lack of sleep. Then I thought it was because she missed all the action and attention (“Grandparent Deprivation Syndrome” as my mother refers to it). And then I thought it was because of the strange balance of solids and formula and breastmilk that I’m trying to feed her in order to get her enough calories to sleep at night. And then yesterday it dawned on me that she hadn’t pooped since Sunday.

Come to find out, rice cereal and bananas and formula, all things that she had been eating over the past few days, lead to constipation. And every mother out there will understand what I mean when I say that I melted down with guilt. I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN! I SHOULD HAVE GOOGLED THIS!

I read that pears would help with the constipation, and providentially I had picked up organic pears while at the grocery store on Monday that were just now perfectly ripe. (Yes, I’m only giving her organic fruits and veggies right now because it’s the one thing in a million that I can actually control… a little bit.) In the past 20 hours or so she has devoured an entire pear and loved every bite of it. And just a few hours ago finally pooped, had some milk, and is napping soundly.

All of this to say I was melting down yesterday with exhaustion and frustration and the realization that motherhood is SO not for perfectionists. And even though I am only one half of a percentage point perfectionistic, that one half was screaming very, very loudly. My house is a mess. Literally, there are leaves and pine needles and mud all over my floors from the Christmas tree and the dog. And if there is one thing I am anal about it’s my floors. My kid was crying constantly even when I danced around singing Christmas carols in my best Burl Ives voice. I could do nothing right.

And then it hit me like a ton of bricks that I hadn’t once sat down to pray about my frustration. And so I did. And I got back to square one.

I think everyone has a square one – the one thing that drives all of their parenting. The one thing they hope to accomplish with their kid. Perhaps they want Judy to become president, or to marry a nice guy, or to not get knocked up in high school. Whatever it is, their battles and the way they choose to fight them comes back to square one.

I decided my square one a few days after Penny was born and I was riding high on the spiritual and hormonal journey of childbirth. I decided that the ONLY thing I wanted for Penelope was that she intimately know God, and that her life would reflect Him. I realized I couldn’t control if she was diagnosed with something, or became a convict, or God forbid was taken from me. And the only thing I wish to do is to create an environment in which she can observe a life that is driven by knowing God.

So yesterday when I sat down and got back to square one I realized my floors were ridiculous. And my Googling was ridiculous. And my attempts at making all the right decisions were ridiculous. And I just prayed til I was blue in the face that God would please help my baby poop. That He would take away her discomfort. That the pears would work.

Another rough night with very little sleep, another rough morning with a fussy baby and a face full of pears. And then one heck of a poopy diaper.

This post is ridiculously long. I’ll wrap it up by saying, why, oh why, does it take me so long to get back to square one? Why do I spend so much effort stressing and researching and trying to make the best parenting decisions all on my own when the answer is right in front of me? The answer being that the only strength or wisdom I could ever have with which to mother my child comes directly from my Creator… when I ask for it. That the only way I can hope to show her a life that is driven by intimately knowing Him is to let my faith be proven despite the circumstances.

I am so humbled today. Ironic as it’s the beginning of the Advent season, and I have been thinking a lot of how blessed Mary must have felt to be the mother of Jesus. How blessed I am to be Penelope’s mother. How blessed I am to receive grace from God. And how blessed I will be if she knows Him intimately.

We started her on solid foods this month, and so far she is digging white rice cereal (hated the organic brown rice I tried to shove down her throat… go figure), bananas and squash. Next week I’m going to start her on sweet potatoes.

She can sit up unassisted for a few minutes now, but then falls over and is quite miserable. Each morning I have her practice sitting in her crib surrounded by pillows, and she seems to really enjoy being able to look out at the world.

My pediatrician chided me for not being more persistent about tummy time. Looks like my kid might roll back to front before front to back.

She is totally digging the dog, and the dog is totally digging her. Each morning when Berlin and I go to get Penny out of her crib there is much squeeing and wagging of tails. Berlin licks Penny from head to toe which seems to delight both of them. I am so happy Turtle is going to have a pup to grow up with.

The sleeping and napping seems to be getting slowly better now that she’s getting more solids in her. I am pretty hopeful that we’ll have a more recognizable schedule within the next few months.

And now for gratuitous pictures…

From Daily Daguerreotype

From Daily Daguerreotype

From Daily Daguerreotype

From Daily Daguerreotype

It’s hitting me like a ton of bricks. An understanding of my mom, and my sisters who are moms, and all the other moms I’ve ever bumped into. I remember looking at my mom thinking she was crazy because she poured her life into my sisters and me. Then when she became an empty nester she just found other people to pour her life into. What about pouring her energy into doing what SHE wanted?

And then my sisters – both stay at home moms. They talk of eventually going back to work after their kids are in school, but I could never really understand why they would just want to stay home with their kids and not have their own thing – a career – all for them.

And now I understand. Because pouring all of your energy into someone else, yes, can be draining. But you get so much more out of it than you ever get out of just pouring your energy into yourself. I wake up every day and live my day for Penny. Nearly everything is wrapped around what is best for her, what will grow her, what will challenge her, what will give her a warm, safe, loving home. I’m no longer all that interested in doing things to make me smile… I just want to see her smile.

It’s hitting me like a ton of bricks because I used to think people who lived like this were weird. I would get together with friends for coffee and they would sit and talk about their kids nonstop. I wondered what happened to their depth when kids came along. Where were the deep philosophical and political conversations we used to have? Suddenly I was just sitting listening to them talk about spit-up and poopy diapers. It seemed so weird.

But now I see that when you’ve gotten a taste of living your life for somebody else, you never ever ever want to go back to just living for you.

I thought I’d crave date night. I thought I’d crave girls night. I thought I’d crave time to sit and paint my toenails. But I don’t. I would rather spend a Friday night at home with my family watching Matt tickling Penny and making her giggle. It’s far superior to the latest blockbuster.

I’m sure in time she will become more challenging, and I will need more time alone to regroup. But I’m struck by the realization that I don’t feel like I need another identity – another aspect of life that’s just about me and me alone. I’m Penny’s mom and Matt’s wife and that definition is all I need.

Weird. It’s just weird. I never ever ever thought I’d enjoy it like this.

And I’m realizing that it doesn’t take kids to learn this lesson – they just force it on you. I wish I had learned this lesson when it was just Matt and me. How much more beautiful would those six years of our marriage have been if I had been spending every day pouring myself and my energy into loving and serving him instead of serving myself? It could have been really cool. And I can start doing that today, but it will be a bit more difficult since I have more balls to juggle in the air. Good thing we’ve got retirement one day.

I used to think my mom was kinda crazy pouring herself into us kids, then her own mom, and now her grandkids with very little energy directed to herself. And now I see that she can’t go back because pouring your life into other people is far more fulfilling. And man, do I respect her for that.

I’ve lost my own identity, and I never want it back.

This year I feel obligated to include a photo for the first time in a long time because we have something gorgeous and brag-worthy to show off. Need I remind you?

From Daily Daguerreotype

So I’m planning on putting together photo cards at Shutterfly. I’ve already convinced Matt that we need to get our Christmas tree as soon as we get home from Thanksgiving in NH so that we can decorate it and pose for a Christmas family photo shoot. Meanwhile I need to determine just which card I want to use.

I’m also going to make my Christmas shopping a bit easier this year by using my cute daughter’s smile to personalize a few gifts. Who wouldn’t be a sucker for Penelope smiling back at them from their cup of coffee?

My fingers are itching for that first cold night in December when I get to snuggle up on the couch in front of the fire with a cup of cocoa and start addressing envelopes. And then the fun of checking the mail those weeks before Christmas to find cards from my friends and family that wind up decking out one of our doors each year. I am jubilant just thinking about it!

* Many thanks to Sarah for tipping me off to Shutterfly’s Holiday Card blog promotion!

I don’t know if this is the four month growth spurt or just something that happens when a kid turns four months old and suddenly they’re all “You can’t force me to sleep, Milk Lady!” We are just in a stage where my daughter is getting more complex and harder to read. And I feel like I haven’t slept in weeks.

My darling turtle who used to sleep through the night and take a few solid naps during the day despite the fact she was the salty sea captain of the Crappy Napper, has been waking up many many many many times nightly out of hunger. And angst. And playfulness. And now she is taking nearly as long to go down for her naps as they wind up being in length. I am trying to switch things up to make it easier on her, while still keeping some semblance of the routine she’s used to. We’re trying to bump back her bedtime to make her more tired during the day. We’re trying to bond her with her snuggly wuggly lion in hopes that he can calm her down, or at least entertain her in her crib. And sometimes I just give up altogether, throw her in the Ergo and take a fourty-five minute walk so that she’ll sleep all the while considering that a mighty fine nap and a good way to eventually fit into my favorite pair of jeans.

I feel like I have the mental strength to tackle these new challenges, but what is really puzzling me is the lack of energy I suddenly have. It’s taken four months, but my body is finally back to normal – in the sense that I no longer ache along my incision, I have regained feeling in my stomach, and all those ligaments that moved around during pregnancy seem to have gone back to their normal places. I am working out more than ever before, but am not getting all the energy I’m supposed to with that. I think my exhaustion is a combination of saying goodbye to those marvellous pregnancy hormones that make each new mom into a veritable Superman, and the lack of sleep that is finally catching up with me.

Sleep.

And so I’m trying to slow down on the booking of fun things and amp up my time at home with hopes that Penny and I both can get a bit more rest. I’m also trying to just let go and follow her lead during this time of change. It makes sense that she is having trouble sleeping now that she can nearly sit up on her own and wants to constantly be petting the dog or throwing toys on the ground. Life awake has become much more fun. For her and for me.

But how do I survive until the waters calm and we fall back into a new routine? What are your tips, seasoned moms?

From Daily Daguerreotype

Jeans from Target, butterfly shirt from Old Navy, and sweater and hat were handmedowns from her big cousin. Who made those, Big Ma? I love them forever and will never let Penny grow out of them.

All but one of Matt’s appointments cancelled today, so we are having an awesome day together as a family. This seriously rocks.

Too bad Creature made it into the picture.

Penny has been in her BumGenius 3.0s for about three months now, seeing as we started her at three weeks of age. And I can’t say enough great things about them. The biggest misconceptions about cloth diapers are that 1) they will stink to high heaven along with lots of poo handlin’ and 2) All! That! Laundry! I’m here to set those misconceptions straight.

If there’s anything I’m thoroughly impressed with in the cloth diapering realm, it’s just how clean these diapers get in the wash. I am washing them according to the manufacturer’s recommendations using a front-loading washing machine, Charlie’s Soap, and once-a-month bleach treatment. About twice a month, I opt to dry my inserts outside in the sun to bleach out any discoloration that has started to set in. The rest of the time, they go in the dryer. After three months of use, my diapers still look brand new.

There is seriously no smell on the diapers after washing them. None. And then during a diaper change, I can avoid getting poo on my hands just as easily if not more than when using disposables. In fact, Matt loves cloth diapers so much that he finds changing disposable diapers to be really gross. I imagine this is because of how absorbent cloth diapers are. Also a kid in a dirty disposable stinks from a mile away, whereas it’s often hard to tell if Penny has soiled her cloth diaper because of odor and moisture absorbency.

As for the laundry aspect, I admit that I might be biased about this one since I love doing laundry, love my laundry appliances, and love my laundry room. But I really do not find an extra load of laundry every other day to be a big chore. Especially when you get as much of a kick out of cloth diapers as I do. Stuffing and folding Penny’s diapers is fun, nay even therapeutic, after a long day. I can imagine that doing the diaper wash for more than one kid would be disheartening, although if I’m honest with you, I think changing the diapers of more than one kid in and of itself would be disheartening. I do not believe I am called to that particular challenge, Lord willing.

I have become such a lover of cloth diapers that I recently switched over to cloth wipes. It’s really a smarter choice when you’re cloth diapering so that you don’t constantly have to be throwing away half of your dirty items while storing the other half. I wash my wipes in with my diapers and mix up my own solution of baby wash and water to moisten the wipes. I hate the word “moisten.” It takes me about 2 minutes every other day, I can fold them to pop up automatically in my hand-me-down dispenser, and Penny’s butt isn’t slarved with all sorts of unrecognizable chemicals – just baby wash and water.

Which brings me to the best part of cloth diapering… her butt. Seriously, her butt is in mint condition. (My mother-in-law even noticed which made me awfully proud!) She gets the occasional rash because I no longer change her diaper at night (and she can wear a cloth diaper all night without any leaking! That’s the power of BG!) which easily clears up without ointment from spending a day in clean cloth dipes. On occasion we will use Grandma El’s butt cream to clear up rashes even faster, and it doesn’t damage your dipes like most other butt creams do.

I thought I would switch Penny to disposables when we are out on errands, but thanks to marvellous wetbags and very compact BumGenius Flips, I only keep cloth dipes in my diaper bag now. Penny’s babysitter is even willing to do cloth diapers, so I won’t need to stock up on disposables before going out on date night.

If you’re not a believer yet, perhaps this will seal the deal. In the past four months I have spent a total of $50 on diapering items. That includes the disposables she was in up through week 3, one package of disposables when we were traveling in September, and disposable wipes up through last week when I switched to cloth wipes.

Which means, if all goes as planned, I won’t spend another dime on diapers until I pick up some disposables for our cruise in February.

So if you are considering cloth diapers, let me assure you that these are NOT your mama’s diapers anymore!