I don’t really know how to slowly ease my way into this post, so I’m just going to jump in. I’m still fleshing all of this out, so it will wind up being a brain dump that is not at all well thought out. Forgive me.

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.

Ever have one of those weeks where it all just keeps on coming, and all you can do to survive is dream about vacations you’ll never be able to afford because all of your money from here til the end of time will be going towards your house and hospital bills?

I knew you would understand.

We have roots. The kind that get into your septic pipes, not the kind that make Jimmy Fallon think he’s actually kinda cool. So there goes a few thousand dollars.

And Matt shot his finger with a nail from his nailgun, so we were in the ER last night. He barely winced, which started a whole conversation about what a great EMT he would make. Guy’s made of steel. Meanwhile I was shaking like a leaf.

But before he was maimed he did this:

From Daily Daguerreotype

Which, frankly, is the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen. I spend a lot of time in my kitchen because cooking (and subsequently eating) is my favorite hobby. So I’ve spent a lot of time bent over this sink gazing into the ugly and dusty window gaps that are now beautifully covered!

When his finger has healed, and he feels up to picking up that nasty wasty nailgun again, he’ll add the top of the window trim that looks something like the top of these doors:

From Daily Daguerreotype

And then we’ll caulk, prime & paint her up, strip the window hardware, repaint the window, and it will be ready for the little curtain I plan on making.

It’s been a helluva weekend, but somehow just typing about these home renovations and our future plans has cheered me up.

That’s sick.

Since we bought this house about a year ago I have gradually been nesting in various rooms of the house, but was mainly focused on the construction and renovations that we were taking on. I made most of our rooms livable, but I was constantly dreaming of the day when we wouldn’t have drywall dust or muddy plumber tracks on our floors, and I could finally hang up curtains in the living room.

This past weekend we finally got around to buying a piano – our Christmas ’09 gift to each other. We had hoped to find a cruddy old thing on Craigslist that sounded good but needed a facelift so we could paint it bright yellow. Don’t ask – something about our passionate love for Elton John. But instead we found a great deal on a nearly new (10 years old!) piano in great shape, so on Saturday we drove down to Murfreesboro with the very helpful Roberts brothers and moved the piano into our living room.

The look is a bit more formal than what I’m going for in the living room, but I can make it work. Having the piano has finally lit the fire under my butt to get the room looking a bit better, so I have ordered my curtain fabric online and can’t wait to get my drapes made. Yesterday while out browsing with Penny I fell IN LOVE with a clearance upholstered armchair and ottoman at HomeGoods which sparked the typical reaction that happens when I fall in love with things.

I couldn’t pass it up. And I wanted to buy it to replace Matt’s chair (The Dragon Throne) which we bought on the cheap under false pretenses a few years ago, and I have nearly-hated ever since.

But anyone who has ever tried to replace a man’s Dragon Throne will tell you that it is worse than pulling a cat’s teeth. It’s worse than having your house burn down. Nay, even worse than seeing an enormous cricket on your cutting board on the countertop. (Yes, the horrors belong in that order.)

Typically Matt doesn’t put  up much of a fight with my design choices. He might roll his eyes or give me a dubious glance, but he has learned to trust me and, in the end, be amazed. But replacing his Dragon Throne with this lovely, shapely, Danish modern chair was not going to happen. Regardless of the ottoman and my puppy eyes.

Even so, I made the purchase and spent last night moving furniture around in the room to see how we could accommodate both chairs as a compromise. I tried. I tried really hard. And I love having two armchairs as well as the sofa for extra seating.

Except I don’t want one of those armchairs to be Matt’s current Dragon Throne. I want the Dragon Throne to live upstairs in the den… and…

Now I want to get another chair.

With a few more aches, pains and divorce papers, I hope to have our living room up and running in the next month or so. Just in time for us to have to move everything around again to put up a Christmas tree.

Because… CHRISTMAS!

This weekend we found ourselves in New Jersey introducing Penny to Matt’s family and enjoying the fruits of Penny’s Pops’ clambake. It was outstanding.

Don’t believe me?

Visual proof:

Penny did a great job flying and being in a new place all weekend, and handled the festivities well with only minor meltdowns. I was awfully proud of her. But frankly, I was proudest of myself.

You see, on Saturday night we left her with my mother-in-law and sister-in-laws so Matt and I could go out to dinner to celebrate our six year anniversary. It was my first time leaving her with anyone other than Matt and for longer than two hours or so. Fortunately, she was in the very capable hands of an allergist’s nurse, a pediatric nurse practitioner, and a therapist for the criminally insane. Which really gave her maniacal alter ego free reign to go all Winnie the Pooh on the nearest jug of peanut butter, should it wish.

I got a little verclempt walking out the door, but as soon as we were in the car listening to some Genesis, I relaxed and proceeded to thoroughly enjoy the company of my best friend at the restaurant where we celebrated our very first wedding anniversary. I ate all of the sinfully delicious delicacies that I swore off during pregnancy including clams and oysters on the half shell and a filet mignon still mooing. Penny only came up in conversation briefly, but other than that we had a great time just being with each other alone.

I’m glad I did it. I’m glad I can be away from her for a few hours so early in her life without turning into a basketcase. I want my daughter to be independent and confident. I consider this first night out as the first step towards making sure she never moves home after college.

Letting go has hit me with full force in another way this week. My special friend has returned. I suppose it is the price to pay for a little nugget who sleeps well at night, but I was not at all ready to welcome it back into my life. And I was not at all ready for the shakeup it would cause to my milk supply. I’m desperately pushing through it to make sure I can continue breastfeeding, but since Thursday I have had to give Penny two bottles of formula.

Yes, the first bottle had me sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor crying.

I’ve already mentioned that I’m not outrageously passionate about breastfeeding, but I guess I expected to be able to wean her when I wanted and how I wanted, not to be stuck in a moment with a hungry baby and nothing to give her. I should have known better.

I could be a purist and just make Penny feed every thirty minutes or so until things kick back into place, but I hate seeing her hungry. So I have resolved to give her formula when I don’t have enough milk for her and to pump 24/7 instead. And you know what? It’s not going to kill her even though it’s killing a teeny tiny little piece of me.

Because I know this letting go is good for me, because I want to be a chill and laid-back mom, I am choosing to roll with the punches and keep smiling.

But that doesn’t mean I didn’t totally reorganize my linen closet and kitchen cabinets today to have something I could control. Boo-ya!

When I got married, the first thing that struck me like a bolt of lightning was the fact that marriage is like constantly looking in a mirror through a microscope. All of my horrible attributes were clearly visible to me like never before, and I suddenly had someone to hold me accountable for my wretchedness. Likewise, Matt finally had someone who made him get off his butt, and also forced him to stop wearing polo shirts to evening weddings.

Having a child is similar to that, except I’d say it’s more like watching old home videos of you from years past. I don’t really know what this is like since my parents were both too cheap to purchase video equipment and also too technologically inept. But I have seen many home videos of Matt as a kid because his parents recognized the importance of having his future wife see him playing the trumpet and looking like a total nerd in junior high. They knew that he would one day grow up to be too hot to handle, and that when he brought home his girlfriend, who felt far too dorky to be dating such a stud, she would be encouraged to know that at heart, he was just as dorky as she was.

That is all neither here nor there. What I am saying is that Penelope is just like me. And she is just like Matt. And of course, she’s got her own smattering of plain old wonderful Penelope. But I have recently been smacked in the face by how similar she is to me, and how I need to compensate for that.

The kid doesn’t like to nap. She just doesn’t. She loves sleeping at night, and does it beautifully. But she is so absorbed with the busy life around her that she doesn’t want to take the time to sleep. She wants to keep on taking it all in.

At first I tried to find her internal schedule which barely exists. Because she’s like me. She’d rather fly by the seat of her pants and roll with the punches than have any sort of schedule. So I just ran with that. And I’d drag her shopping and to coffee with friends and she would enjoy it all, but be a basketcase for a few hours afterwards. Because at two months old, she’d be awake for three, four, sometimes five hours with just a fifteen minute snooze nestled somewhere in there.

I thought this was great! And she was oh, so flexible! And don’t I want my kid to be flexible!? Except, I never knew what to expect from her, and she never knew what to expect from me. There was absolutely no structure except at going-to-bed time. And then I realized I am raising a kid who has all my tendencies to live a completely un-structured life, and that will lead to her dating men with chemical dependencies.

So today I instituted a nap training routine. All in the name of saving Penny from men with chemical dependencies.

What I have learned from Matt is that structure isn’t all bad. Routine can be good. Especially for kids. Matt is a person who really enjoys routine and predictability. Keeping his word means everything to him. And I absolutely love that about him.

As I’m home all day with Penny, I have realized I need to be for her what Matt is for me. I have to be predictable. And when she knows what to expect from me she will trust me. And that can only be good.

Sure, I want my kid to be as flexible and happy as any other well-rounded kid out there. But she isn’t gonna be able to enjoy flexibility if she never ever naps.

I am four hours into this day of nap training, and I have had two wins and one loss. Which means it’s time for more coffee. And no, Penny, your mama isn’t chemically dependent on coffee. I mean…

This was the first song Matt wrote for me. He burned the track onto a cd, and I listened to it. Then I kissed him. Then I said “I can’t believe I just kissed THE Matt Hofmann.” And I kissed him again… like for real, the second time.

Across the World by neenertronics