One Thing Leads to Another

It’s Friday today, and it’s been a particularly rough week.  Matteo has been fussy because of an ear infection and three teeth cutting their way through his mouth, and I’m not sleeping much and running out of steam.  My to do list is growing and I can’t convince myself to care.

To top it all off I went to happy hour and proceeded to smoke, drink and talk too much.  So this morning when the alarm (i.e. Matteo) went off I started doing my thing.  Little did I know inspiration was right around the corner.

So I get Matteo, change him, feed him and bring him to my bed for a few minutes and we play.  Then I move him to the floor, shower, iron, get dressed, make bottles and I’m out the door.  I drop him off at daycare and stop at Starbucks, a typical Friday morning ritual.  I’m in line behind a guy with a T-shirt that says “Backyard Bootcamp”.  I’ve been trying to get myself to exercise more, and this guy’s T-shirt caught my eye so I looked up the website when I got to work.

Browsing around on the website, finding out where they are and what they do, I found my inspiration for the day.  A quote from the profile of one of the trainers in the bootcamp:  “I believe in always telling the truth to yourself and those you love, daily meditation and exercise. Everything else will happen as it should.”

Thank you, Shannon Kramer, for putting that so precisely.  My to do list just got shorter.

WELCOME TO MOMMYLAND;  first stop, insanity

I’ve had quite a few interesting interactions with mommies these days, and for some reason I can’t really relate.  I don’t know if I’m the odd one (likely) or if they are, but there are a few things I don’t understand about this world that I’ve recently entered.  Now I understand why my mom (who was a stay at home mom once I came along) didn’t have very many girlfriends.

Don’t get me wrong, in some ways it’s nice to have other women to talk to that are experiencing motherhood for the first time.  And in some ways, frankly, it’s not.  Here are my top three things that are not (for this week, at least):

Coordinating pregnancies:  A couple of my “mommy friends” have sons the same age as Matteo (within a couple weeks), so we compare milestones, weights, etc.  And then it’s always the question of “Are you planning on having more?”.  When I say yes, they want to know when.  Then they say “Oooohhhh…wouldn’t it be fun if we were pregnant together?”  Pregnant together?  WTF does that mean?  When you’re pregnant, it’s you, your belly, prenatal vitamins and a bowl of ice cream.  The last thing I want around is another hormonal mother-to-be.  Seriously. 

Playdates:  I think this is a generational thing.  I don’t remember having playdates as a child.  I remember riding my bike around the neighborhood sans helmet and shoes, looking for something to do.  This generally involved a wiffle bat and ball, a few neighborhood kids and dogs, and running around like banshees until the street light came on or we got hungry, whichever came first.  Now it’s a scheduled thing, where parents even hand out “playdate cards” resembling business cards but instead of name, title and email address, it’s name, mommy’s name, and phone number…”for a good time call…” which freaks me out.  Strange, strange thing…but I still have a playdate for the next two Sundays with two different sets of parents.  Even stranger.

Measuring Cups:  “Is Matteo crawling yet?”  “How much does he weigh?”  “How many teeth does he have?”  I mean, come on, people!  Barring a bad case of polio, all these kids will eventually learn to walk.  They’ll get all their teeth, and if you’re lucky, they’ll be good ones that don’t require braces.  And I’m not surrprised that your kid is in the 30th percentile in weight - so are you!  It’s unbelievable sometimes…I mean, why can’t we just hang out and have an adult conversation without bringing out the measuring cups for every little thing?  This one really gets me.

So, even though I love my little guy and it’s fun to watch him play with other kids (i.e. grab their face or toy and pull them over, which is hilarious to see firsthand), sometimes the mommy factor makes me crazy.

According to the dictionary, Symbiotic is defined as:

1: the living together in more or less intimate association or close union of two dissimilar organisms (as in parasitism or commensalism); especially : mutualism2: a cooperative relationship (as between two persons or groups) <the symbiosis…between the resident population and the immigrants — John Geipel>

This word used in Barb’s entry from yesterday really jumped out at me.  Maybe because it’s a word commonly used when referring to Biology and DNA, or maybe because of the context in which it was used.  I had to look it up to refresh what I thought I knew, and when I was reading the definition, it jumped out at me that - once again - Barb and I are on different sides of the same coin.

In looking at Barb’s lifestyle versus mine, I am definitely more in the “living together in more or less intimate association or close union of two dissimilar organisms” bucket, and Barb is in the “cooperative relationship as between two persons or groups” bucket.  Where my husband and I are more different than alike, Barb and her husband seem to be more similar than different.

It continues to amaze me at how enriching our friendship is to one another, and yet how different the details of our daily lives are.  Am I jealous that she’s not working and just got back from a surprise weekend in the mountains planned by her husband?  Sure!  Would I trade her places in a million years?  Never.  And as Barb once referenced, friends come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime.  Many seasons have passed, so we can rule that one out.  I’m not sure whether it’s a reason or a lifetime, but at this point I’m thinking it’s both.

It’s not always easy to understand other people. Hell, most of the time I hardly understand myself. That being said, I am an extremely empathetic person, so even if I don’t understand why someone is feeling a certain way, I definitely FEEL the feeling that person is putting out there.

That feeling for Barb (if my radar still works), was a little bit of dread with a pinch of anger.

I don’t think she was angry with me, per se, but more with the situation (or that’s how I’m going to think about it for now). We were sitting outside on my patio, enjoying another one of our “Micromovement Mondays”. These get togethers have become a mainstay since I have gone back to work, and they have been crucial in keeping Barb and I on task with our creative endeavors as well as giving us a good reason to spend some time together.

So we’re outside, talking about whether we did what we said we were going to do for the week, enjoying the weather and the company (other than the many interruptions from my husband, but that’s another story) . Everything was awesome, until I started talking about having another baby. I was talking about my goal of transitioning into something that would give me more time at home, more time with my family and more time doing what I enjoyed doing. The timing of this transition, however, is not solely based on me. In fact, nothing in my life is based solely on me. The timing of this transition involves me getting pregnant again within the next 2 years and popping out another puppy. And I know Barb intellectually knows this, but when I was talking about it happening so soon, it felt like she was already forming her plan to phase me out of her life.

The conversation continued and we moved on, but I couldn’t help but still remember that feeling I had. We started talking about some of her other friends and how I’m one of the few friends with kids that she still hangs out with. Mostly because I don’t enjoy discussing the color and texture of my child’s feces, and although I think he’s the coolest thing since sliced bread, I don’t expect other people to feel the same way.

Our lifestyles are very different, and will continue to be so. She rents, I have two mortgages. She doesn’t eat meat, I do. I smoke, she doesn’t. I have kids, she doesn’t. I just hope these differences in lifestyle don’t cause her to file me away in the morgue of friendships past because I choose to procreate more than once.

Time will tell, but at least I have her on the docket until Thanksgiving. She agreed to come to Matteo’s first birthday party at the end of November, even though there will be other kids and kid’s parents there. That, my friends, is HUGE. And I appreciate it, Barb, I truly do.

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Update by Barb:

Sorry, Sweetie. Your radar must be slightly off. Not mad at all that you’re having a second kid (hey, I’m the one always telling you to have another one right now!). Perhaps you were picking up on the fact that I was just slightly surprised that you would put off doing something because you may have another kid in two years. That seems like a million years away and one can get a lot accomplished in that amount of time. Well, in all truthfulness, I may have also cringed at little at the thought of two little rug-rats running around the place, even if they are as cute as Matteo.

But a big thanks for the kudos on committing to the b-day party. I told Emmett about it last night and he stared at me in disbelief. “Seriously,” he said. “You’re really going?” Yep, got it on my calendar…in pen.

SPELL CHECK

So I’ve been distracted today, reading numerous blogs, catching up on personal email, and trying to avoid shopping online.  It worries me that in my reading, I’ve noticed that alot of people can’t spell.  I’m not sure if it’s because we’ve been incapacitated by spell check, or we’re just plain stupid, or both.

So it doesn’t have anything to do with being a mom or how it affects my friendships, it’s simply a rant. 

I mean, seriously, has the American education system really suffered that much?  Is DEFINITELY really such a difficult word to spell?  How about TOMORROW?  Is it too much to ask people who blog all the time to either perform spell check or if they aren’t sure to look it up in the freaking dictionary?  Or better yet, there’s always websters.com for Chrissake!

Granted, I’ve always been a good speller…spelling bee material, actually.  I only missed one word on my spelling quizzes - separate.  I will never misspell that word again.  And I misspelled detonate in the third grade spelling bee.  Come on, that’s a hard one for a third grader.

Please, if you’re reading this, take the time to check your spelling before posting a blog, sending an email, or writing a letter.  It’s not only annoying to those of us who CAN spell, but it’s embarassing that there’s so much out there that is fodder for people to make yet another Dumb American joke.  Come on, people, we wouldn’t get made fun of so much is there wasn’t so much material.  WTF.

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Update by Barb: Does anyone else see the humor in Lori ranting about bad spelling habits when she ALWAYS spells “a lot” as “alot” (as she did above in the first paragraph)? Oh, and she’s missing an “r” in “embarrassing.” Loser.

So I get this email from the Babycenter website and occasionally read it.  It’s been helpful during pregnancy and the first few months of mommyhood to get a feel for what’s coming up and to see if there are any articles of interest.  The subject of the last email I got was “top 10 surprises of becoming a parent” so I couldn’t resist.  The thing is, I don’t know who these people are that contributed to this article, because if they’re surprised at some of these things, then frankly, they’d be surprised if there was traffic on the 405 (for those not in LA, the 405 is the most congested freeway in the city and at anytime of day there is traffic).

For example, surprise #7:
___________________________________________________________

Surprise #7: Your friendships will change

“Friends? Who are they? All of my friends are still in their party phase,” says Jill Furlong, mom to a 1-year-old. “They call me and ask me to go out clubbing. I laugh and remind them that I don’t do that anymore.”
Many BabyCenter moms told us they’re surprised by how their non-mom friends have drifted away. It can be hard for girlfriends who aren’t going through the same thing to relate to constant talk of pregnancy or babies, or to understand how little time and energy is left for them.
“Three weeks into my pregnancy, my best girlfriend and I started drifting,” says Alaina Shearer, who writes the blog Ms. Single Mama.
“She was the first. The rest slowly drifted out of my life as I became completely wrapped up in pregnancy and my forthcoming mommyhood,” Shearer says.
But good friendships can make it through life changes - sometimes it just takes work and time. Some of Shearer’s old friends have resurfaced now that her son is older and she’s more able to maintain contact. Plus, she’s formed new friendships with other moms.
If you’re facing this issue, check out our mom tips and expert advice on keeping up friendships when you’re a new parent. ______________________________________________________

Go out clubbing?  Completely wrapped up in pregnancy and my forthcoming mommyhood?  Constant talk of pregnancy or babies?  Honestly, I appreciate the fact that I can have a conversation that isn’t about pregnancy, babies or the like.  Maybe it’s because I was 35 when I had my first baby and I was capable of having an adult conversation that didn’t revolve around these things.  Maybe because I have an education and have been in the corporate world for over ten years that the baby factor didn’t totally consume my life.  Yes, it takes a lot of time out of your schedule that used to be spent at happy hour or movies.  But it doesn’t mean that you’re not capable of talking about anything but.  Whoever these women are, it’s no wonder I’m not friends with them.

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UPDATE by Barb: Ha! Too funny. And now you know why I freaked out when you got all knocked up! That’s how most of my FWKs are! That’s what I’m talking about! If you ever turn into one of those…let’s not go there. (P.S. I’ve never asked you to go clubbing and I never will, regardless of your baby situation.)

The last session was insightful.  I find myself surprised at some of the things I say, at some of the ways I feel.  As it turns out, I feel guilty.  I feel guilty for wanting more than I have.  I feel guilty for not being content.  I feel guilty for leaving Matteo at daycare, for ignoring my husband to tend to my own needs.

In thirty five years I have never really felt guilty for doing anything, so I’m shocked that this guilt has been hiding from me all this time.  I’ve always seen my life as a series of events that have been good, bad and ugly (sometimes really ugly), but have never regretted anything.  After all, you change one thing, you change everything.  But I do want more, I want more time, I want more money, and I want more beauty in my world.  And I’m finally coming to terms with the fact that it’s ok to want more. 

Yes, I have a beautiful house, a healthy and amazingly well-mannered child.  My husband and I both have good jobs.  I’m relatively healthy, and I have a loving, supportive family.  In fact, I have a better life than probably 95% of the women on this planet.  I want more, I want passion, I want to be inspired.  And as it turns out, I have a tremendous amount of guilt for wanting it.  I’m ashamed of wanting more when there are so many people in the world with so much less.  And in fact, the only reason I have more than others is out of pure luck.  I was born into a family that over time accumulated some money.  I was born in a country where women are allowed to pursue education and have jobs and speak their mind.  I feel guilty for having what I have, and even more guilty for not being satisfied with it.

But after all, it’s my life, and noone else’s.  And come hell or high water, I will pursue what I want.  For my sake, for Matteo’s sake, for the world’s sake (in that order).  After all, if mama’s happy, then everyone’s happy.

I’ll start with Memorial Day.  A long weekend to chill…

Barb and I touched base awhile to see what each other’s plans were for Memorial Day weekend.  We decided that Barb and Emmett would come out to our house for the day for eating, drinking and being merry.  There was a possibility we would raid my parent’s place close by (they have a pool), but weren’t sure.  We decided to leave it open, with the plan of them coming over.  Then I got an email from Barb.  Because the weather was going to be 10 degrees cooler at my house, she thought “Maybe you guys should come over to our place that day.  Unless the Matteo factor is too much to deal with. I don’t care either way, just thought I’d put the option out there.”.

Fair enough…she proposed a change in plans, but left it up to me.  I appreciated her recognizing that “the Matteo factor” exists.  I chose to keep our plans the same, preferring that she and Emmett make the trip to our house.  Her response was a bit weird…she “figured, but didn’t know if I was up for the adventure.”  Funny that she thinks carting a 6 month old across LA on a holiday weekend with all his supplies is adventurous.  Skydiving = adventurous.  Bringing baby to CFF+C’s* house = not adventurous.  For those of you with children, you know why.  

*NOTE: for those of you who don’t know what a CFF+C is = Child Free Friend plus Cat.

She acknowledged the fact that Matteo would be a factor, and that it would be easier to do it at my place.  And given that I’m working full time, the last thing I want to do on a holiday weekend is pack up my car to bring my kid and all his shit to someone else’s house.  So I told her I’d rather do it at my place (after all, she did give me the option). 

Needless to say, in some ways it was a surprise to read her blog from a few weeks ago.  In some ways it wasn’t.  Either way, we had a great time…Matteo was a good boy (as always), it was great for Barb and I to brainstorm together and it was fun to see Emmett again.

Vacation in Hawaii (Kauai for 5 days, Maui for 4)

One word - awesome.  Kauai was a beautiful place.  My husband and I spent some much needed time together - without Matteo.  It was my first time visiting Hawaii, my first time away from Matteo, and the first time in a long time since my husband and I have been alone together for that long.

We started out the week lying on the beach at our resort, reading and relaxing.  Or at least I should say I was relaxing.  You see, it’s hard for my husband to relax, so the first couple days of vacation were stressful for him.  We didn’t have plans or an agenda.  We hadn’t done any research on what we wanted to do and when.  We were winging it, and for those of you who know my husband, he’s really bad at winging it, but it’s a good thing he had me to show him how.

We went on a helicopter ride, explored the beaches at sunrise and sunset, ate good food, drank good wine, and most importantly, slept through the night.  I missed Matteo dearly, but realized during this vacation that I had missed my sleep even more.

Back to Reality

So now I’m back, and better than ever.  I’m rested and revived, and ready to plot the course for the next five years.  I’ve been contemplating making a career change to make things better for myself and my boys (both the 6month old and the 39 year old), and this last week was just what the doctor ordered.  Although the Monday morning reality check was rough, nothing can stop me now.  I even returned to find that Matteo is getting with the program and beginning to sleep through the night, so if this keeps up, world watch out!