Labels

I feel the need to start off with a caveat because I am hyper-aware of those who will eye roll at the extreme lameness of what have done. So yes, I am aware:

-the interwebz is not in need of another blog.

-no one needs two blogs

-and, goddamnit, the world certainly does not need another mommyblog (a term, by the way, I find degrading and ridiculous. I'm a fake a writer, but would you call a real writer a mommy-writer? Would you call someone a MommyLawyer? A DaddyDoctor? Same goes for Mompreneur. Punch Me.)

Think of it this way:

Two people are instructed to answer the sentence starter "I am" with three descriptions.

One sheet looks like this:

I am...a receptionist
I am...a cook
I am...a sister

And the other:

I am...compassionate
I am...stubborn
I am...self aware

Definition of Self through career and relation to others is a very, very Western Trait; the owner of sheet two is much more likely to hail from somewhere in Asia. Broad vs. Narrow socialization and all that.

Anyway, the same characterization lends itself to parenting.

"Mr. Imperfect," I said, as we loaded up to attend a workshop on babywearing, "don't mention we don't cosleep. Hmm, do you think they'll judge me if I breastfeed with a cover on?"

"Uh, okay? And...no?"

"Oh, and for the love of God, DON'T tell anyone I had an epidural!"

Labels, people:

Attachment parenting, Ferberian parenting, Crunchy Mom, Natural Parent, whatever. Stay-at-home, work-at-home, work-outside-the-home, etc.

Unlike the "I am" sheets, I don't have research to back me up, but I'll bet this obsession with labelling is a pretty North American phenomenon as well.

So here I am, as a mother:

I am stubborn, flawed, loving and in love, loyal, sometimes irrational, devoted, learning, happy and hopeful.

Letter to Adrienne, Month Four.

Dear Adrienne:

If you ever end up reading these letters I assume you'll be doing so at a point where you've learned one very important thing about me: I always think I'm right.

Now, most of the time I am right, yes, believe it, but sometimes my confidence in this area leads me down a not-so-good path.

Just as you turned three months old, you might recall I wrote about how I had given up on The Baby Whisperer's statement that all 3 month old babies should be able to nap for 1.5 hours and eat only every three hours. I had a significant amount of trouble getting you to nap for longer than 45 minutes, so I gave up. I threw the book back on the library shelf long before I read about HOW I was supposed to get you to sleep longer. I figured, "whatever. This woman, who has worked with thousands of babies, knows NOTHING about MY baby. Obviously MY baby is so awesome and special that she doesn't fit into this book..."

And you were still nice and fat and happy, so I kept feeding you every two hours and taking you out of your crib after those tiny cat naps.

But all of a sudden you weren't happy anymore.

As your four month birthday approached, you started getting up 95 times to eat every night, and you would gulp down milk like as fast I downed a mickey of vodka at age fifteen. (Oh, by the way, since no one ever told me: you do NOT drink alcohol in the same quantities as you drink juice. And you do NOT drink an entire bottle of spirits in 10 minutes when you're fifteen. Best case scenario? You wake up in the morning not knowing how you ended up on your good friend's floor and you vomit for three days, like I did. Worst case? Well, we'll talk.)

Anyway, back to the story at hand. I started to notice that you were barely hungry after these short naps and your short, two-hour routine. Obviously, you weigh 15lbs 1oz now and you're 25" long, so you can go longer between feeds. Previously, I had rationalized the fact that you only ate for 3-4 minutes and said that "you're an efficient nurser," but when the length of your feeds dropped to 30 seconds and you were waking up hungry at night I knew I'd messed up.

I thank God you were still getting enough to eat at night and that you're still gaining weight and staying on your growth curve, Miss 75th-90th percentile.

And so it began. I read the entire The Baby Whisperer Solves All of Your Problems this time and got to work teaching you how to put yourself back to sleep after waking up from your first sleep cycle. It hasn't been easy for me: sometimes it takes me 45 minutes to get you to nap for another 15 minutes! I'm so excited, though, because last night you slept from 7:30pm to 7:30am for the first time ever, and I can see you naps getting better and better. It's taking me less time to get you to sleep longer.

You wake up happy, playing with your feet, and you're hungry enough to eat!

All of this, and I'm by your side teaching you how to get back to sleep, which is a learned skill. I always thought parents had only two options if their child wasn't a naturally good sleeper:

1) Let your baby cry it out until she passes out from exhaustion and the realization that her Mama isn't coming to help her, or

2) Have your baby sleep in bed with you until she's 8 years old.

(Just to be clear, I know that cry-it-out methods work great for some people, and I totally respect the decisions people make for their own families!)

Anyway, I'm just so happy that there's a middle ground here. I am so, so, SO happy that you're learning and waking up smiling and ready to play!

I mean, now you have enough energy to roll onto your tummy the second I put you down.



And then roll back onto your back.



And repeat. Across the floor.
(Thanks for forcing me to vacuum 90 times a week, by the way).

You have the energy to slap at things in your exersaucer and to stay up for two hours so we can go for long walks.




Lucky for you (and your Dad), the mosquitoes turn their blood thirsty fangs of doom towards me and forget about the two of you. You have gotten one bite, I believe your Dad has two, and I have TWENTY EIGHT JUST ON MY ARMS. Hey, City of Edmonton? It would be SUPER AWESOME if you could spray for bugs next year! Thanks! Or I guess you could just spend all of your surplus resources on building a new arena...

Anyway.

Adrienne, I am so excited about the person you're becoming. I love your smiles, your laugh, your personality, and how you talk and yell to hear your voice. I love how you smile constantly as soon as your Dad comes how for work, and every minute I spend with you is truly a blessing.

I don't know how I lucked out with such an amazing life; I truly understand what people mean when they say "heaven is on earth."

I-was-wrong-and-I-admit-it,

Mama.

p.s I can guarantee with 100% certainty that right now, if we're arguing about anything, I AM RIGHT.

Oh, and one more thing: you LOVE swimming, so here is a picture in your super cutie pie bathing suit: