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.

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.

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!

Yesterday we put up the curtains, and I quickly moved on to my next project which was to paint the doors on our console white. We picked up this console which I loved for the shape, but the panel doors had a funky woodgrain pattern that I didn’t like, so I am painting them white for a two-toned look. You’ll see in the picture below that they look a bit greyish right now. That’s because the only primer we had in the house was oil-based which I did NOT want to use, so the first coat of “primer” is actually a coat of gray paint for our dining room & living room using Behr’s paint & primer all in one. Tonight I’ll coat this layer of light gray paint with a crisp white layer (Behr’s “Polar Bear” in flat), and we should be ready to go.

Can I also take a minute to say that Matt splurged on some Purdy paintbrushes and OHMYWORD they are to die for. I am never going back. In fact, I think I’ll go around the house and touch up all my sloppy painting with my new Purdy paintbrush and its crisp edge. You know, when all of our other projects are done.

From Daily Daguerreotype

Do you like how I didn’t even try to clean up the surface of the console before posting a picture? Mismatched photo frames, library books, and a bloomless orchid. That’s how we roll.

I have a big beautiful antique mirror from my Grammie to hang over our piano on the other side of the room. My debate now is whether or not to repaint the chipped frame which is currently painted gold. I’m wondering if I should keep it gold or go with some bright yellow to modernize it a bit and balance out the yellow curtains. I’ll post a picture eventually and get your vote.

Speaking of votes… don’t forget to vote tomorrow.

My oldest sister introduced me to babywearing as she also introduced me to the world of midwifery, doulas, and cloth diapering. I give her all the credit in the world for Penny’s good-lookin, rash-free bum, and for her happiness at being worn regularly (you already know that I adore midwives & doulas). I jumped into babywearing thinking it would be very convenient to have my hands free during the many tasks I take on in the course of a day. But I have come out on the other side seeing just how happy Penny is while being worn.

I read somewhere that babies who are worn spend many hours of the day in “contented calm,” and I really believe that’s true. As long as I have her positioned comfortably in whatever carrier I’m currently wearing, she is happy to watch me load and unload the dishwasher, shop at the grocery store, and change the sheets. She regularly naps for long periods while being worn when I take Berlin out for a walk. And my fear that she would never want to be put down just hasn’t come true. She happily plays in her exersaucer for up to a half an hour at a pop.

One thing that I’ve found interesting is just because a kid likes being worn doesn’t necessarily mean they want to be held all the time. They can definitely tell a difference. Penny is at a stage where she doesn’t want to be passed from person to person all the time – she wants to flop on her back or belly and squirm a bit instead of being restricted. But she almost always enjoys being worn. So when I’m craving some snuggle time, I often get better results by wearing her than by holding her in my arms.

Yesterday we took a nice long hike in the woods, and Matt wore Penny in the Ergo while I walked Berlin on the leash. Or rather, Berlin walked me. After 2 hours of walking approximately five miles, Matt had absolutely no soreness from wearing Pen – a testament to just how comfortable that Ergo really is.

The foliage was stunning.

From Daily Daguerreotype

And our nugget napped for the first hour.

From Daily Daguerreotype

While being “contented calm” the rest of the time.

From Daily Daguerreotype

The whole hike we couldn’t stop talking about how much fun it will be to wear her all around when we go on our family cruise in February!

So babywearers… what are your favorite carriers?

We were graciously gifted with tons of books from friends and family, so we have a lot to choose from. But Pen and I have been taking trips to the library that I think will become a weekly affair to bulk up the stash. It’s also a great excuse to hang out with the ever-lovely and ever-flamboyant “Mr. Brian” who does children’s story hour, and whom we bumped into at the grocery store the other day. I love my neighborhood.

Here are my favorite kids books so far, in no particular order.

The Hound From The Pound – Auntie Gina and Uncle Adam gave Penny this book and OHMYWORD do I love it!?! Great story, great writing, lovely illustrations. Perfect for the teeny tiny turtle in your life who is growing up with lots of puppy love.

Papa, Do You Love Me? – Auntie Clarissa and Uncle Rob gave Penny this book along with its counterpart, Mama, Do You Love Me? It’s really hard to say which of the two I prefer, although I think I love the Papa version a teeny bit more because of the beautiful African animals illustrated. Both books are filled with interesting cultural references (African and Inuit) and absolutely stunning images. We have one in softcover and the other is a board book, which I adore since Penny will be able to enjoy the sweet stories both gnawing on the cardboard pages and learning to read.

Snuggle Puppy – Aunt Beth and Uncle Brent gave Penny this book with a whole slew of other Boynton board books. They are all pretty comical and enjoyable, but Snuggle Puppy is probably my favorite as it’s set as a song. Matt and I actually came up with pretty similar tunes separately, which was fun to discover. And now we go around singing Snuggle Puppy to Tiny Turtle regularly. It really gets stuck in your head.

Hush! – Matt found this book at a church book sale and bought it for (I think) a dollar. Best dollar spent EVER. Gorgeous illustrations and some really fun animal sounds you get to make. Yes, I’m a sucker for books with animal sounds.

I Had Trouble In Getting To Solla Sollew – Penelope and I picked this up at the library, and were quite interested as we had never heard of this Seuss book. It’s now one of my favorites, although not at all the right age for my daughter quite yet. Like a classic Ben Stiller movie, things get dramatically worse as the story progresses until finally the narrator realizes that the grass isn’t always greener and contentment in one’s current place is important. And of course wonderful, imaginative illustrations and language.

I’m sure there will be another roundup soon. What are your favorite kids books?

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, of course, the first visit with a heap-load of vaccinations. Matt and I had discussed vaccinations and his philosophy was that she needed all of the suggested vaccinations but that I could choose the schedule. So I looked around for a pediatrician who would let me do a delayed vax schedule, and that was my plan.

But I had a change of heart while I was in there today.

I realize that vaccinations are a really heated debate, and I don’t dismiss either side of the issue because I really think parents disagree on this mainly because they want to do what’s right for their kids. So I can understand the philosophy behind both sides.

However… yeah, you knew there was a “however” coming around the bend… Y’all know Matt’s occupation, and you probably know his stance on vaccinations as well. He is a firm believer that there is no link to Autism with vaccinations and that by vaccinating we can prevent a whole host of horrible diseases. And I agreed with him. But there was this tiny little part of me that, as a mother, thought “what if all this research winds up being wrong? What if years down the line they DO find a link? And I’m the mother who gave my kid the XYZ vaccine?” So I wanted Penny to have the delayed schedule so I could watch like a hawk to see if she had any bad symptoms.

One thing Matt had to keep reminding me of while I was pregnant was that the medical decisions I made needed to be based on scientific evidence, not my emotions. He was fine with whatever I decided – a midwife, a natural birth, limited interventions – because I could prove that my midwives had a lower infant mortality rate than the national average, that a natural birth had lower chances of PPD than a section, and that using a doula would decrease my chances of having interventions that could have a wide range of negative side effects. But he never let me get away with statements like “no epidural because maternity anesthesiologists are in with the drug companies and want to kill me!” (Dr. Shane quickly took away all those fears!)

So while I was in the pediatrician’s office debating what to do about the vaccinations, I decided to put Penny on the regular vaccination schedule based on the scientific evidence that no link has been found between vaccinations and Autism. But I also chose to do that as a vote of confidence in my husband, in what he does, and how wonderful I believe he is at it. (Over dinner the other night he said, and I quote, “I actually prefer working with really, really low-functioning kids as opposed to those who are just barely on the Spectrum.” He’s an awesome guy. What can I say?)

I chose to put Penny on the regular vax schedule to not give credence to the Jenny McCarthy’s of the world who are basing their theories on anecdotal evidence. I chose to do it because I live with enough irrational guilt from a miscarriage, and would rather live with the irrational guilt that Penny’s possible future developmental disability came from an unsubstantiated link to vaccinations than to see her in the ICU dying of whooping cough.

I chose to do it because I don’t think my pediatrician has it in with the drug companies. And I think she wants to see Penny healthy. And I don’t think she’s evil. And… gulp… I don’t think doctors are evil.

You know how hard that is for me to say. But when I really, truly think about it… LOGICALLY… that is how I feel.

Ok, it’s out there. All my anti-vax friends, feel free to tear me a new one in the comments section.

I came home from the pediatrician’s office and changed Penny’s clothes. I changed her into this outfit – a little number that Matt picked out at the Carter’s outlet when we found out we were having a girl. Because orange is his favorite color – the color of giraffes. And one thing’s for sure… this little giraffe ain’t gonna get whooping cough!

From Daily Daguerreotype

Both of these people asked me how breastfeeding with Penny was going, and whether or not I liked it. Frankly, I went into motherhood pretty blase about breastfeeding, and I continue to be blase about it. I choose to breastfeed because A) Penny took to it really easily, B) I like the research behind breastmilk building a stronger immune system, and C) it’s cheaper (probably my most compelling reason, honestly)!

I’m all about people who are breastfeeding advocates, and completely understand why they are. I’m also all about women who choose to formula feed because of the many logical reasons they choose to. For me, it’s all about the cash money.

The more I started to think about it, the more I realized most of my mothering decisions so far have had to do with my thrifty New England spirit. For instance, I’m cloth diapering because I love how it is better for the environment, but I’m also doing it because the average home spends $50-75 a month on disposable diapers. Because of my very generous friends, all 16 of my cloth diapers were given to me, without me spending a dime on diapering. I’ve realized I need to pick up a few more, but with some giftcards that I’ve been given, I think I might only wind up shelling out $20 or so to round out my supply. Pretty incredible when you think that Penny can wear these same diapers until she’s potty trained. And then I can reuse them for future kids. When you add it up, that’s a hefty savings!

(I did have a higher water bill in July, probably from doing a load of diapers every day. Which is all the more reason for me to get more diapers since 14 dirty dipes is only a half load in my washing machine.)

Well if I’m not a hyper breastfeeding advocate, why am I a hyper natural childbirthing advocate? A lot of this, again, comes down to money. We just got the bills from my C-section and hospital stay which added up to a whopping $30,000. Fortunately, because of Matt’s fairly comprehensive employer-sponsored healthcare we only have to pay about 15% of the total bill for my care, Penny’s nursery stay and her EKGs. But $30,000 as opposed to $2,000 for a natural delivery? Why would anyone choose the former if they didn’t have to?

What it all comes down to is that Penny (who is currently wearing some cute, and free! hand-me-downs) won’t be carrying a cell phone in Elementary school not because I have issues with it (although I do), but because I’m too cheap to buy her one. And perhaps all the money that I’ll save by handling her poopy cloth diapers for all those years will make it possible to build that Frank Lloyd Wright-inspired house in the Tennessee countryside that I was sketching out earlier today.

What’s the driving factor behind your parenting decisions? Whatever will keep your kid from life behind bars? Whatever prevents you from being blamed in 10 years of therapy once they’re adults? Or are you just cheap like me?

DAUGHTER

Eat

Penelope is eating like a horse. We hit what I believe was her first growth spurt this past Saturday night when she refused to go to bed until midnight and wanted to be fed nearly every hour at the top of the hour. Saturday and Sunday, for her, were a seven course meal at a fine French restaurant – not including the sorbet they give you between courses to cleanse your palate. For me it was a dairy cow’s worst nightmare.

During the day she is still eating about every hour and a half to two hours which gives me a whole new understanding of why new mothers get absolutely nothing accomplished. Sometimes I go three feedings holding my bladder because I just have not gotten a chance to pee yet.

Sleep

Since we came home from the hospital, Penny’s been sleeping in her Pack ‘N Play on Matt’s side of the bed. Our system so far has worked really well. When she would wake up at night, Matt would change her then hand her off to me for a feeding. Then I’d hand her back to be swaddled and put back down. This has worked great since Matt’s had all kinds of paternity leave, but since this is his final week off, we wanted to start a system that would involve him less for when he goes back to work.

Just to put it out there, I’m a big fan of most aspects of attachment parenting. I’m totally down with co-sleeping, and I’m really big into baby wearing, which Penny seems to truly enjoy. If I had it my way, I’d let my girl sleep curled up next to me all night long, but it’s not really practical for us. First of all, we realized right away that we couldn’t co-sleep since Matt is a very heavy sleeper and totally forgot she was there when we tried it during a nap. As for his involvement at night, we needed to start lessening that. Not that every person doesn’t have a very stressful day job and need a good night’s sleep, but Matt especially needs to be well-rested. Imagine spending your day with parents who are melting down in your arms while their children with developmental disabilities throw forks at your face repeatedly for hours. And then imagine doing that on four hours of interrupted sleep.

Last night we decided to give the new system a try and put her in her crib in her bedroom for the first time. She has slept a few naps in there all swaddled up, but this was her first overnight. I was pretty sad about her being in another room, but knew that if we could start this routine early we might have less trouble breaking old habits. We put her down in her crib, turned on the monitor and went to bed in our bedroom. I worried that I wouldn’t wake up for her since she wasn’t in the same room as me, but I slept as lightly as I have since the hospital and heard every grunt and squeak she made all night long. She’s a very noisy sleeper when she’s sleeping heavily, so I have learned to distinguish good noise from bad noise. And she didn’t wake me up with bad noise until SEVEN HOURS LATER. Then she went down for another four hours. Holy mackerel people.

I would be worried that she’s sleeping too much at night and getting too hungry, but this morning she has been eating particularly well and has been awake and alert for nearly four hours. If the rest of the day goes as well, I guess we’ll try it again tonight.

Poop

All in all, Penny’s a great baby. I would almost say low-maintenance, but she’s just as high-maintenance as any newborn. The difference is that she’s a great communicator. She lets us know when she has a dirty diaper or is hungry. Sometimes she’s irritable when she has to burp (she seems to be a bad and delayed burper), but otherwise is a quiet and lovely little girl. Only at night when she’s overtired and needs to go to bed does she fuss endlessly for no reason at all.

She hates having a dirty diaper and can do absolutely nothing, nor be pacified until the diaper is dealt with. While sometimes this can be annoying, like when we’re 15 minutes from home and she cries the whole way because she hates sitting in her dirty diaper, I’m seeing it as an overall positive trait. When we switch her to cloth dipes, she’ll likely be just as aware, if not more of her dirty diapers. And hopefully this will make her easier to potty train in the long run. Don’t you just LOVE my unbridled optimism?

MAMA

Eat

Eating? What? What is that? The woman who loves to eat more than any other pastime has completely forgotten about the joys of food. We have been so blessed to have been brought delicious dinners from people in our church over the past few weeks, none of which I have actually eaten at the intended temperature. When it’s time for me to make a meal I wind up shoving food and the grilling tongs to Matt who is becoming such a master griller he deserves his own Saturday afternoon PBS show.

Meals are not only eaten cold but are always interrupted by at least one feeding and nearly always two dirty diapers. Girl’s got perfect timing.

Sleep

I can’t quite get over this instinctual motherhood sleeping thing. I was such a deep sleeper before. As in regularly sleeping through alarm clocks going off. Sleeping through thunderstorms. That kind of deep sleeper. Now I hear her sounds all night long and just know when she needs something. It’s remarkable.

I feel like I’m getting plenty of sleep since I’ve always been good at napping during the day. But I haven’t quite been able to “sleep while the baby is sleeping” yet since there seems to be so many other things that need to be done. Not really housework, just social expectations that my small sliver of people-pleaser is having a hard time letting go of. I’m hoping we’ll slip into a routine with regular naps thereby allotting myself that sleeping time sooner than later.

Poop

I am pooping quite fine, thankyouverymuch. Ladies, the one upside to having a C-section is not dreading that first awful poop. Silver linings, people, silver linings.

And these are a few of our favorite things…

* I’ve noticed that Penny has just recently started to respond to my voice. If she’s in another room squawking she starts to calm down when I walk in the room and start talking to her. She also loves being held upright against my chest and neck which can often soothe her and put her to sleep. I have a new understanding of mothers – having your kid love being close to you is a huge ego boost.

* Two words: PRE-FOLD DIPES. I want to buy hundreds of these for every new mother I know. My mom gave me a whole bunch which I will be using for inserts when I switch to cloth dipes, but in the meantime they are AMAZING for a whole host of other things. We’ve got a major spitter upper on our hands, so pre-folds are strewn about our house like lit candles on the set of The Bachelorette. Matt curiously refers to them as “Tri-folds.” Which makes me think of three-corner hats. And the New England Patriots. And learning the song in German, “Mein Hut, der hat drei Ecken,
Drei Ecken hat mein Hut.”

* The night-time routine which now includes a solid hour of Mama rocking Penny in her nursery while Dad sits on the floor with Berlin and plays mid-nineties rock songs on his acoustic guitar. Last night we enjoyed Collective Soul and Radiohead, the latter which caused our daughter to squeal in agony. Thom is an acquired taste, my dear.

* This post has been interrupted by two feedings, four dirty diapers, and one very intense burping session where the dog ran for cover.