Monday, June 30, 2014

I love it, but I don't, but I do

I think that one of the more important things in life is to remain in the moment. To always be present. To not get distracted by the mundane, the tedious, the run-of-the-mill. To not get bogged down by trivialities.

But, I also believe that life is all about learning; I have a lot to learn. I sometimes learn lessons over and over and over again, like not to expect anything too specific from anyone or anything. In certain situations, I'm more likely to expect things, but like I said, I'm learning.

Add another lesson to the list: remaining present and in the moment. I love this kid

Awake, asleep; happy, sad; hungry or satisfied; she's mine, and she's my favorite. She's the only one I want, and she's the only one I'll ever have (assuming everything goes according to my master plan). I love her sooo super much, and yet I find myself on my phone... watching movies... trying to distract myself from the moment, because the days are long when it's just the two of us.

I hate wishing away this short time that she's so little, but I am excited for the future. It's not even that I think it'll be BETTER, just DIFFERENT. She gets frustrated, and so do I, when she needs or wants something, and she can't communicate it, and I can't understand her message. I think she enjoys certain things, but perhaps she just endures them; maybe those things bore her. I don't know, so I'm excited for her to talk.

I love it when she sleeps in my arms, and when she cuddles me. I love that she needs me. But I'm excited for her to crawl and walk and run; I enjoy my independence so much, and I think she'll enjoy hers as well.

I love it when she's asleep. It's quiet, and peaceful, and just heavenly. But when she's awake, there's nothing better than when she smiles or laughs! It's true, what they say: parenting is the best and worst job ever! It's filled with the best and worst moments. It's the most happy and the most sad you'll ever be. Isn't that kind of the definition of bipolar? manic? what?

Saturday, June 28, 2014

Expectations are killers.

I'm impervious to guilt... from certain people. I came to this realization this morning on my run, staring at my babe and thinking that I could never do this again. Well, I guess technically I COULD, but I would never want to. It might kill me.

Don't get me wrong: I love the stuffin' out of her, and we have some pretty great times together

...But there will be no repeat performance. I always tell her I love her - I'm over the moon for her - she's the cutest thing I've ever seen - but this isn't happening again; this baby thing was a one-time-only deal.

Just like during pregnancy where everyone who's ever been or has ever known anyone or seen anyone that was at one point pregnant - they all give their opinions, solicited or (usually) not. It's the same with babyhood: everyone provides their own opinions, whether you like it or not. Like how you'll always regret not having at least two.

See that face? That's an adorable face, right there. I really think she'll survive without a sibling. I really believe that she'll get along just fine. She can have sleep-overs. She can have friends. Maybe she won't be the best at sharing toys because she'll lack a sibling, but I think we can cross those kinds of bridges when we come to them.

Besides, I don't really want to have to divide my time between my Love, my babe, AND one more. Undivided attention - that's where it's at (for me). Tim and I won't have to split up and each go to one activity ("you go to his soccer gave, and I'll go to her ballet"...or whatever).

So I don't really feel the need to explain myself. I am allowing myself to not feel guilty about what other people say that might make me feel bad. Now, I need to work on me - how do I not guilty myself? Stupid expectations; that gets me every time.

Monday, June 23, 2014

It's all about the guilt, baby

I'm convinced that parenthood is a lesson in guilt.

I feel guilty for NOT wanting to stay at home with my absolutely adorable babe all day, every day; I feel guilty for wanting to work.

I feel guilty for letting her cry sometimes; I feel guilty for needing (and wanting) to take care of myself sometimes.

I feel guilty for not holding her (and not wanting to hold her) every time she wants me to hold her; I feel guilty for wanting time to myself, and time for just me and Tim to spend together.

I feel guilty for letting her watch so many movies recently. I feel guilty for focusing more on my (hopefully) upcoming job interview than I do on thinking of exciting new things we can do together before I go back to work next week (speaking of which, I can't believe it's next week).

I DON'T feel guilty for waiting seven years after we got married to finally get pregnant. I DON'T feel guilty for being ourselves, and getting to know each other so well, before we had a baby. At least now that we know each other so well, we're able to focus more on her; rather than trying to figure out, "what do you mean by that?," we discuss our next plan of attack.

We have theories and strategies. Sometimes, those just feel like doing pre-algebra, using the guess-and-check method. Remember that? It was never the fastest method, but it felt like it was the easiest way to go... at first... until you figured out how to manipulate variables. And then there were multiple variables at once. 3D planes. Ellipses. Multiple solutions. Infinite solutions. Everything in quadrant A, B, C, or D. Maybe the solution was imaginary.

And that's what it feels like now: I'm trying to solve for X, Y, and Z simultaneously. One of the solutions is imaginary, and one of them has multiple solutions... And to top it off, I'm using the guess-and-check method. How can you figure anything out with that? It's kind of frustrating.

And that's just what's going on with this precious little thing that currently resides in our office, and cries when she's sleepy and hungry. What about getting together with friends and having any semblance of the social life we once had? It seems impossible! Sometimes, it feels like maybe we should just give up on MOST of it. I say most because there are things that I couldn't face living without (certain friends, certain recreational activities, etc.). But I hear that it gets easier, if only in some ways. I'm looking forward to seeing it get easier.

And I feel guilty for that, too. I feel guilty for wanting it to be easier. How horrible is that? Can't I feel NOT guilty about something?

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Exiting the fog to find a 5K

Somewhere in the midst of the fog that is infanthood - in between feedings and play time, walks and trips to Target, I lost something that was really important to me: running.

Hi. My name is Betsy, and I get high off of signing up for, training for, and running races.

I know I'm not the only one out there, and I've never been the most dedicated or fastest or passionate runner out there, but you know what? It made me feel good, getting somewhere on just my two feet. Using power only I can generate. It's mine and mine alone.

A little over two months ago, something happened that changed me in a big way: I had a baby. Twenty-two hours of labor, a C-section, some sciatic nerve damage, and maybe a touch of plantar fasciitis later, I finally fell ready to jump back into races. I never RACE races - I think my top speed is 9:00 mile, but that's when I've TRAINED!

So I think I'm ready. I found a Couch-to-5K app that I love, and I'm excited to sign up for my first post-baby 5K. Now, the question is: which one?

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Two months

My babe is over two months old now; here she is on her two-month birthday.

I'm not one of those people that makes some huge fuss every single month, but I did want to take some cute pictures every month - just a little fun dress-up time. Gotta get her used to paying dress-up with me pretty early!

My return-to-work date gets closer and closer every day, and every day passes more quickly than the one before (with few, very recent exceptions).

I want to remember some notable moments; here are a few:

Here is possibly the last picture of me pregnant. It may be the last one pregnant with Katelyn, or it could be the last picture where I'm pregnant EVER. "We'll see" (this phrase encapsulates my life now).

Life in the hospital was horrible, just as I expected. Home life is much better. Especially bath time. Especially after she lost her umbilical cord (which she hadn't yet in this picture).

I love this picture, but it really shows how small she got. When she was born, she weighed 7 lbs., 12.5 oz. (as of her last doctor's appointment, she weighed 11 lbs., 4 oz.), but lost weight. She got all the way down to 7 lbs., 2 oz. - NOT GOOD!

Sadly, she doesn't make this face very often anymore, but she would always make it when she was DONE eating. She'd be eating, eating, eating, then close her mouth, spit out the nipple, and be DONE. That's it. No more. The cutest freaking thing!

Here's something: when we showed her around Tim's work, everyone said she looked just like him, but when I showed her around my work, everyone said she looked just like me. Funny, weird stuff.

Katelyn makes some pretty cute expressions, and she looks so cute in her outfits, with sunglasses, and... you know what? She just looks cute every time. Every second of every day. Awake. Sleep. Happy. Sad. Every emotion and expression is absolutely adorable!

We love our walks. And runs. And just hanging out on the grass at the park. If only it would rain more often!

If her first word is 'selfie,' I'll have to apologize to her.