Just Another Mom-Blogger

Posted on May 22, 2010 by anyavasquez

Instead of writing this week’s entry, I have been soaking up the words, thoughts and dreams of other mom-bloggers. These other writers inspire but also intimidate me. After clicking through another link, and another, and another, I find myself feeling incredibly overwhelmed at the sheer amount of how many of these types of blogs exist.

Why should I continue to write if everything I have to say has already been produced? I would by lying if I didn’t admit that I take pride in the knowledge that other people enjoy reading my blog, but this isn’t the sole reason I continue. I feel this necessity to make some sense out of the chaos in my head. This innate desire to express myself creatively, to add my own thoughts and dreams to the world in a more concrete way. Even if it has already been said, I can’t stop saying it in my own words.

Reading these other blogs also makes me think about different kinds of moms, and specifically, the kind of mom I choose to be each day.

I am the kind of mom who:

makes her kids say “please may I have” before giving them something.

types away with one daughter napping and the other glued to PBS & Playhouse Disney cartoons.

believes you should hold your ground and follow through on what you tell your children – and not buy them the candy/put on the movie/let them wear pjs to the store – just to get them to stop bugging you about it.

doesn’t think you have to clean your plate before eating dessert.

wants to instill confidence and creativity in her kids.

thinks she has too much crap in her house, but can’t help dreaming about garage sale steals and the illusion of “new.”

at times feels hopeless, overwhelmed, and oh so tired.

sings everyday.

feels so disconnected from the other preschool moms who work out/shop/spa in between drop off and pick up.

does not believe in hitting (yes, spanking is hitting) your kids. Ever.

hates going to birthday parties where the kid rips through presents without uttering anything remotely close to “thank you.”

is still bitter about her baby weaning herself at 10 months old.

wants to pull her own hair out after spending a day with her sick and whiny kids.

is scared about the pre-teen years, especially in the age of instant gratification in communication via facebook, twitter, texting.

thinks using nicknames for vagina and penis is ridiculous.

sometimes buys toys because she wants to play with them more than her kids do.

tries to live each day in gratitude.

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What kind of mom are you?  What kind of mom do you hope to become?

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Some of my favorite mom-bloggers (so far!):

Get Born magazine/blog

Reflections of a Mama

The Evolving Homemaker


Posted in Identity, Parenting | 3 Comments

Period Exclamation Point

Posted on May 14, 2010 by anyavasquez

Sometimes I consider getting pregnant again for the sole reason of not needing to deal with my period for another nine months. At the first spot of blood, I am grateful for not being pregnant, but the week to follow always makes me grimace. In 15 years of experiencing this cycle, I have found that the most recent cramps, aches, mood swings, bloating and other general PMS loveliness are not as easy to ignore as they used to be.

But perhaps the bigger issue with my monthly occurrence is that I have this strange, innate sense of being empty. I can feel my eggs screaming out to meet their match, my ovaries begging to be filled, my vagina putting out the welcome mat. How can there be such a disconnect between my body and my brain, when in my heart, I know that I am done?

Is this, in fact, the sign that I am not really done?

The pull coming from within me seems to be more than purely physical. Nourishing and protecting and growing my daughters created the foundation of an unbreakable bond. My labor and birth experiences were mind-blowing and incredible. I still can’t quite believe that my body had that amount of beautiful strength – a strength that isn’t utilized in any other act, exercise or activity. And I wouldn’t be the person I am today without becoming a mama first.

My body reminds me that it is primed and ready to go in the reproductive area – and tries to be a friend when telling me that – tick, tick, tick – I’m not even 30 yet and this is the perfect time for another baby. But my head reminds me of the reality. Hellish sleepless nights and pure exhaustion. The struggle of trying to find some kind of balance in my life. Feeling guilty for not being able to really pay attention to my older daughter. The arguments and emotional separation from my husband. I know for certain that I do not want that life.

Maybe in five, six, seven years, as my girls are truly little people with school and friends and homework and extracurricular activities, we will choose to grow our family again. And then again, maybe I’ll read these past blog entries and be convinced otherwise. For now, I will try to keep the arguments between my head, my heart and my body to a dull roar. If you need a tampon, you know who to ask.

Posted in Birth, Pregnancy | Leave a comment

This Kind of Love

Posted on May 7, 2010 by anyavasquez

I had felt love before and thought I understood its depths. Love for my family, my friends, my husband, my shoes; all of these are technically “love,” but in slightly different variations. I experienced a kind of love I never knew existed the moment Lily was born. During my pregnancy, I loved this tiny being inside of me, anticipated her birth, imagined and dreamed about meeting her. But I never could have prepared for this overwhelming love. Holding her for the first time, I realized that I was cradling a physical manifestation of my heart and soul. This kind of love is incredible, unexplainable, inexplicable.

Her birth also made me realize another truth. Until that moment, I had never fully grasped how much my own mom loves me. I am my mom’s heart and soul; someone she dreamed about, hoped and prayed for, someone who made her experience a kind of love she had never fathomed.

This awareness floors me. We were both 25 years old when our first daughters were born. We both had dreams of our own, men we had chosen to marry, and the desire to grow a family. The parallels are somewhat boggling and put an interesting perspective on our relationship.

To my own mom, I feel the need to say thank you for giving me the world even though I demanded every minute of your time, every strand of your energy and every ounce of your patience.

I want to say I’m sorry for the not-so-smart decisions I made growing up and for the regrettable things I put you through.

But more than anything, I want to say I love you. As a mother myself, I have been given the gift of experiencing this kind of love, and finally comprehend what this actually means. I love you!

Posted in Birth, Parenting | 6 Comments

The End of an Era

Posted on April 30, 2010 by anyavasquez

In the beginning, there were four. The foundation of our friendship was built on high school connections: playing violin in orchestra, attending Key Club meetings, spending a month in Spain on the junior class trip. Our days were filled analyzing typical teenage dramas (boys, parents, boys, jobs, homework, college plans, boys). None of us planned on ending up in the town we had gone to high school in, as each of us yearned to explore our possibilities and desperately wanted to get as far away from our parents as possible. But somehow after a chunk of time spent at college or working or traveling, we found ourselves back in Missoula at the same point in time.

As slightly older, and somewhat wiser, versions of ourselves, we were happy to find that our connection remained. We met for sporadic coffee dates, happy hours and Sex in the City marathons. But when B. decided to take the leap and go to graduate school in Portland, we decided to take advantage of the short months we had left before the four of us became three.

The Sunday brunch date was born, and we continued to meet every week even after B. had moved. Lily was born about a year later, and our weekly dates became even more valuable to me. They represented something bigger than a simple get-together with friends. That hour or two every week meant a time for me to be someone other than “mama.” It was time to talk and laugh and cry about the intimate details of our lives and to get the opinions and viewpoints from women I highly admire and respect. When else could I have those questions answered that only close girlfriends know how to respond to? L. and M. didn’t have kids and couldn’t possibly understand the worries, woes and tiny joys that made up my daily life, but they never stopped listening. I still cherish the long phone catch-ups with B., but it just isn’t the same as being face to face.

Four years later when much has changed in each of our lives, our brunch date has remained a constant. That is, until recently. When another week passes without having time for brunch, I try to host a drink night, schedule a play date, meet for a quick lunch – but nothing has elapsed. We are finding that balancing all the different aspects of our lives does not allow for a weekly meeting. M. said it perfectly the other day, “How can I justify spending two hours with my friends when I haven’t spent longer than five minutes talking to my husband without the kids screaming in the background?”

I have experienced the change and shift and end of various friendships – this is the reality of relationships. I know that we will never again be those 15 year old girls, sitting on the front porch of one our parent’s houses, drinking root beer floats and talking about how fast the summer went by. And I would never wish to be those girls again, as I love the women we have become.

But until this moment, I thought I was immune to the inevitable loss of friends that happens after you “grow up.” I have heard so many stories about women losing touch (especially after kids come into the picture) because there are only so many hours in a day and more things on your to-do list than you could ever begin to accomplish. Maybe I have just been in denial or have unrealistic expectations. The more I think about it, the more I realize that we are an anomaly, an exception to the norm. I don’t know any other group of 20 & 30-something women who continue to meet on a weekly basis with their high school girlfriends.

On one hand, I understand. Of course I do; I am living the balancing act everyday. But the reality for me is that if I don’t schedule something (especially something that falls into the “fun” category), it just doesn’t happen. I don’t have room for spontaneity in my life – baby sitters don’t really like being on call for when I happen to get the whim to go out. I can’t grasp the fact that out of the 168 hours that exist per week, we can’t seem to find a mere two hours to spend together.

I foresee a future of chatting on the phone once in a while, exchanging Christmas cards and going out for a meal on our birthdays (if we’re lucky), but otherwise remaining absent from each others lives. These are not the kind of friends I want us to turn into.

I realize that a loss of our old routine does not equate to the end of our friendship, but it does signify the end of an era. I suppose that I should focus on being thankful for all of the Sunday brunches I have under my belt and for having friendships built on such strong foundations and sharing deep histories. But I won’t ever stop hoping that seeing each other on a regular basis isn’t completely out of the question.

B. – I miss you.

L. & M. – How about brunch? (You know I’ll never stop trying).

Posted in Friends | 3 Comments

“She’s Very Advanced, You Know”

Posted on April 24, 2010 by anyavasquez

Part of the joy of being a parent is experiencing the rapid growth and change that a baby undergoes during the first years. Watching your tiny helpless lump of a baby start to turn into a little person who moves and talks and eats is truly a remarkable and amazing sight.

Vivienne has been on the verge of what we thought would be her first step by nine months old for about three months now. She is an extremely quick crawler, and I think that she simply won’t walk until she finds a real reason for doing it. Over the past couple of days, I have found myself holding my breath and watching like a hawk, moving toward the camera, as she stands up from sitting or doing the “downward dog” pose…and then sits back down.

Lately I have been thinking about a some funny things regarding milestones:

  1. If you are like me, you won’t remember how old your kids were when any of them happened
  2. Developmental achievements are often regarded by new parents as “tricks”
  3. After a landmark is reached, it will seem like your baby has been doing it forever
  4. Babies grow up and there is no stopping it

Friends ask me, “When did Lily start crawling? What was her first word? When did Vivienne get her first tooth? How old was she when you stopped swaddling her?” For the life of me, I can’t recall the answer to any of these off the top of my head. I can make general guesses in regards to Lily, but Vivienne’s first year is a complete blur. When I’m at the store I can barely remember the right size of diapers to buy!

Other moms are impressed that I keep up with baby books, first year calendars and journals for my kids. In truth, one of the only reasons I do this is to not forget all of the little details that made up my daughter’s lives when they were babies. Keeping track of things is a necessity that spans to every other part of my life; if I don’t write something down, I won’t remember it. Lily loves looking at pictures of herself as a baby and talking about her own milestones. Those snapshots in time make up the person she has become, which makes them all the more fun to look back at and remember.

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Regardless of the extent to which your baby book is filled out (or if you even have one) doesn’t diminish the novelty of each milestone in real time. I think most parents get the urge to brag to anyone who will listen about the new thing their baby is doing that week, and compare their baby to every other baby they come in contact with. We just can’t stop ourselves from uttering sentences like, “My baby has been crawling since six months old” or “My baby started sleeping through the night the minute we brought her home from the hospital!” (Please note that the second phrase was not me – when I heard this, I responded with something like “oh, how nice for you” and turned away with only an ounce of jealousy, shunning that mom and her freak of nature baby). It doesn’t really matter what your baby is doing – but I guarantee you will want to shout it from the rooftops. Perhaps this stems from some competitive DNA strain that exists in all of us?

When Lily started lifting her head up/crawling/babbling, pretty much any time she would reach a milestone, my mother-in-law would say, “Well, yes, of course she’s doing that. She’s very advanced, you know.” This is the other DNA strain shared by all parents (and grandparents!) – the belief that our baby is the smartest/cutest/most awesomest baby to ever exist. Biologically, this makes sense. Something has to ensure that we’ll keep caring for our offspring in the middle of the night, when, let’s face it, things just aren’t so cute anymore.

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The time warp that happens after you have a baby is strange when considering milestones. In the first year of my daughters lives, I felt trapped in this half torturous, half mesmerizing time frame. I was barely functioning due to sleep deprivation, but at the same time, getting to experience these fascinating leaps and bounds in development.

Having a baby really forces you to live in the present, so it can seem as if your baby has been doing what they are doing at this exact moment – forever. When Vivienne was six months old, a friend asked me how long she had been crawling a couple weeks after she started. “Oh, months!” I quickly replied, then after thinking for minute, realized that this would have meant that she started crawling at three months old, which she did not. I mean, she’s very advanced, you know, but she’s not a miracle worker. No wonder that friend looked at me so incredulously.

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I don’t understand those parents who want to keep their kids babies forever. Sorry to break it to you, but that’s what they do. I discovered my husband crying while watching TV about a year after Lily was born. He explained that he saw a commercial montage of parents holding a little baby, then reading a bedtime story to that baby at five years old, then walking their 20-something “baby” down the aisle, etc. “She’s only a year old and already so big! I’m not ready for her to grow up!”he exclaimed.

Part of me totally understood, but thankfully, babies don’t become whiny kids and then bratty teens in the short span of a commercial break. Although time passes quickly, we really do have years to watch the changes take place. For the most part, I’ve found that each stage becomes more fun than the previous one. While I cherish and love being with my kids right now, I am also looking forward to the triumphs they have yet to accomplish.

Milestones – like taking first steps – really mean that my baby is starting to move in the direction of becoming her own little person. I cannot think of a better reason to shout from the rooftops.

Posted in Parenting | 3 Comments