I went from moment to moment of each hour of the weekend, being present with the time I had.  It’s hard to remind ourselves that we are human BEings, not human DOings, and to take some time to not DO anything.  During this somewhat meditative weekend, I was able to reconnect - with myself, and with my son.

During all this mother/son quality time, I realized how much he has grown since the first day I saw him.  I was working on a photo album, looking back at his ultrasounds, the day he was born, the day we took him home, and so on.  And when I was rocking him to sleep Saturday night, it hit me.

Rocking and breathing, we were in a totally peaceful place.  He was resting his head on my shoulder, laying on my chest, his little legs hanging down to my belly.  I closed my eyes and focused on the feeling of his body on mine.  I took a few deep breaths and went into a partially meditative state.  I kept thinking that less than five months ago he was inside me, he WAS me.  My blood was his blood, my breath his breath.  I am his original home, from whence he came.  No wonder it feels so good to have him close to me, listening to him breathe.

I’ve always been close to my mom, some even say I still haven’t cut the cord.  When people ask me where home is, I have a hard time answering.  I was born in Seattle, and over the course of the past 35 years I went from Seattle to California to Missouri to Indiana to Missouri to Ohio and now California.  I haven’t seen the home I grew up in for almost 15 years.  They say home is where the heart is, and before I had a baby I’d have to say home was where my mom was.

Now all I can say is I AM home.  Matteo’s home.  Until the cows come home.

First of all, the flexibility thing is huge.  I have so much less time to spend with Matteo, that the friend time almost becomes non-existent.  In fact, most of the friends I have kept in touch with so far are still in touch because they’re willing to come hang out at my house.  It’s just easier that way.  Besides, when I spend the week working, the last thing I want to do it ditch my baby to go hang out with my friends…I mean really.

Barb and I are planning on going to a play, and the options are Thursday night or Saturday night.  I know she’d prefer Thursday night because she and her husband always make plans for the weekend, but going out on a Thursday night just isn’t in the cards for me anymore.  It’s too much work, and by Thursday I’m so wiped out that the last thing I want to do is drive to Santa Monica for a play.  Disappointing in some ways, but it’s just a lifestyle thing.  It makes perfect sense that people with kids hang out with other people with kids.  They have similar schedules, they have similar priorities, and they understand that you need to be home by 8pm to put the kids to bed.  Friends without kids look at you like you’ve totally surrendered…and although in some ways that’s true, it’s so worth it.

So yeah, you won’t bleed to death, but your friendships must be strong in order to survive a new baby in between you.  Your friends without kids will still love you, but they just might not want to hang out with you very much.  A slow bleed that may drain some energy from your life, but nothing that’ll kill you. 

The first time I met my husband was at work.  I had transferred out to LA from Ohio, and a woman in my department was taking me around introducing me to everyone.  Sal was one of them.  That was in January 2000, over eight years ago, but we didn’t start dating until a couple years later.

The thing that struck me most about Sal, other than the accent of course, is how incredibly smart he was.  Every guy I had dated in the past was far below me intellectually (by design, actually, they’re easier to control that way), and as I reached my late twenties, it was becoming more and more of an issue.  Rather than wanting someone cute and fun who liked to party, I was looking for something more stimulating, which shocked me almost as much as it did everyone else.  I always joke with Sal that he’s the smartest man I’ve ever met, but it’s not like he had much competition.  Partially because it’s funny, but mostly because it’s true.

He was smart.  He was interesting.  He had experience in the world that I envied.  He spoke five languages (and not just in the “hola amigos” kind of way).  He was funny.  We talked and laughed and watched movies and went to concerts.  He was open minded, politically liberal (if not radical), and had a degree and a good job.  He wasn’t homophobic or racist (another novelty from the crop thus far).  Frankly, he was a breath of fresh air from the ones who came before him, so I snatched him up before anyone else could.

Together ForeverSo here we are, approaching our five year anniversary, with our little Matteo joining us on the journey of our lives.  Our marriage is far from perfect, and we can’t figure out how that’s possible when we’re both so perfect (just ask us)!  Together in so many more ways than we were five years ago, and anxiously anticipating the results of our little experiment in genetic engineering - our little boy.  He’s an amazing combination of the two of us, and he’s only four months old!  He’s got his daddy’s ears, his mama’s eyes, and who knows what else…who knows what else.

If you ever read The Lord of the Flies, you may remember the two characters Sam and Eric.  They were twin brothers, and over the course of the book, they started as two separate people – Sam and Eric.  They became so enmeshed in each other that figuratively and literally they melded into one:  Samanderic.

That’s how I feel as a mother, calling daycare to check in on Matteo:

Receptionist:  “Tutor Time, this is Katrina.  How may I help you?”
Me:  “Hi Katrina, this is Lorimatteosmom.  Can you buzz me into the infant room?”

I am no longer just me.  I am me, plus another part of me expressing itself in another person.  He used to be part of me, breathing with me, walking with me and eating with me.  Now he is Matteo, and now I am Lorimatteosmom.  My identity will never be the same…I wouldn’t call it on hold, or waiting for something to be finished so I can begin again as myself.  I am new, I am different…not on hold, maybe just on the other line.

And besides, my life has always revolved around the important people in it, not around me.  Maybe because I’m a middle child, I have always defined myself in relation to others.  That’s why Barb likes me, after all…when we’re together, I revolve around her, and now Matteo is the sun around which I revolve.  My friends and family are still in orbit, but the pecking order has changed.  I am Lorimatteosmom.

What brought Barb and I together was Nicole.  What keeps us together is our desire to live creatively and according to our own standards.  That’s what I love about Barb - she is living exactly the life she wants to live.  No apologies.  No excuses.  I wouldn’t want her life, and she wouldn’t want mine, but we understand each other in that we want it the way we want it. And even though I’m insanely jealous that she doesn’t work and only has her cat to take care of (her husband even does the freakin’ laundry, for God’s sake!), I know she did what it took to be in her situation.  After all, our lives are a result of the string of decisions we have made to get us where we are today.

I promise, Barb, I’ll never bore you with stories of Matteo’s diaper contents.  How could I, when we always have such fun talking about whatever it is we talk about!  In fact, that’s what I miss most about the time Barb and I spent together during my maternity leave - our talks.  We’d be sitting around the table working on a creative project, or sitting on the couch drinking wine, or walking down the boardwalk at Venice beach, or laying on the beach drinking wine, talking, laughing, eating, drinking and just BEING.

And that’s what friendships are all about.  Your friends are people who you can BE with, not censoring your thoughts or words, not worrying about what they’re going to think.  Just being together and sharing a moment in time.  Quality time that will never pass again in quite that same way on quite the same day.  It doesn’t matter where we are or what we’re doing, or even if Matteo is tagging along (although I’m sure that will change as he becomes more of a little person himself).  We just have fun being together, and kids or no kids, that’s what counts. 

For starters, there are about ten minutes of each weekday that I have to even think about something as esoteric as my decisions and my friends.  I’ve only been to work for four days now, and from the minute I wake up I’m moving from one thing to the next…until I’m laying in bed that night.  Just to cover the basics of getting myself ready for work, Matteo ready for daycare, actually getting work done in between nursing and pumping, and getting home to do it all over again is quite a Chinese fire drill.  If I’m lucky enough to have a few minutes to take a deep breath, honestly, I’m thinking about me, myself and I.  My friends are going to have to fend for themselves.  Lucky for me (or by design), I only have friends that are used to that.

I also recently met my first “mommy” friend.  Her son started daycare with Matteo and she’s going back to work this week as well.  We’re planning on going to the farmer’s market together someday.  I’m looking forward to getting to know her, and am optimistic, especially because she moved here from Chicago and is also a working mother.  On the other side of the coin, I’m starting a Mommy and Me class tomorrow morning (mostly to get out of work one morning a week).  Because the class is on a Tuesday morning, I’m expecting to meet alot of SAHMs (that’s Stay At Home Mom for those of you not hip to the lingo), so I’m not sure I’ll really find anyone I connect with.  I’m keeping an open mind…at the very least, I might find someone who wants to take care of Matteo during the day for cheap.

As I get more into the routine of working, I can see my friendships - all of them - taking a back seat.  There’s simply not enough hours in the day, and I’m starting to understand why “people with kids” hang out with other “people with kids” and why “childfree” folks get tired of it.  Frankly, childfree people have other options!  I totally understand that.  That being said, Barb and I have plans to go to a play soon (after she gets done galavanting in New Orleans) and this weekend a childfree friend and I are going to Santa Barbara for a concert. 

So it’s not all diapers and nursing and exhaustion…and most of all, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.  When I pick up Matteo after work and we talk and play and he falls asleep on my shoulder, the world is a wonderful place to live, and I love him more than life itself.  And with a face like this, who wouldn’t?