Being A Mommy

In the next few weeks, we are going to begin the adventure of solid foods. Yup. Not just breast milk anymore, this girl will eat something that doesn’t come out of my boobs. Hmmm…hadn’t actually thought of it that way before but – yeah – mama’s boobies are just part of the equation now. And part of me is relieved to begin the process of getting my body back and not having it sustain life for-ev-er.

To prepare for this new adventure, Rob and I went to Babies R Us and were overwhelmed like the day we went in to register for our baby shower. It was weird how we picked up some Medela products with ease and confidence knowing exactly what we needed. Then we headed to the baby spoons and plates (I guess that’s what they are – eating utensils – whatever, I have no idea what I’m talking about!) and we had no clue what to do. I swear part of the problem is that there are too many options. Rob wanted to get disposable spoons. Why? I don’t know. Are we going to be feeding Tessa on-the-go – at a strip club or bar maybe – and not want to bring home a filthy spoon filled with sweet potatoes?! Hell, I don’t know. But the metal spoons seem so brutal and like they would hurt her precious bitty mouth. So after much deliberation, we bought a plastic bowl and spoon. They look fine. I suppose. I don’t know! Ah!

We then went to the food aisle where the real meltdown began. Our pediatrician advised us to start Tessa on oatmeal rather than rice cereal (which most babies start with) because she only poops once every few days. So we looked at the oatmeal and – again – there are too many options. We finally narrowed it down to two options: should we get single grain or whole grain oatmeal? Rob and I just stared at each other, hoping the other person would feel strongly and make a decision. We then looked at the oatmeal boxes, neither of which spoke to us. We looked at Tessa who was falling asleep in the shopping cart. We read the ingredients. Rob guessed that whole grain might make her poop more which could be a good thing. But me – traumatized by Tessa’s recent diarrhea from her ear infection antibiotics – thought that was a bad thing. Alas, at a crossroads. We stared at each other. And again at the boxes. I nearly came to tears. “I don’t know!” This is going to be Tessa’s first food – her first taste of anything that hasn’t come from my boobs. I don’t know. I don’t know! I finally let out an audible but not confident “single grain!” And a decision was made. Rob was relieved and threw the box in the cart. I stared at Tessa. Does she know what a momentous decision that was?

I came home and stared at our one plastic bowl, one plastic spoon and one box of single-grain oatmeal . . . and felt overwhelmed. At least we have another few weeks before the fun begins.

I love personality assessments. They are usually insightful and always fun to ridicule.

This past week, one of the work teams that I’m part of did personality assessments using a comparative chart to see how we work with one another and as a team. My results were very . . . friendly. Apparently, I’m really nice. This isn’t altogether surprising as I’ve been accused by colleagues of being “sweet and accommodating.” This is okay, I guess. But part of me wants to be a rebel, bitchy and Angelina Jolie-eske. I want to kick ass! But, alas, I’m “unassuming, unselfish and have a genuine interest in other people and a strong, intuitive understanding of them. Outgoing and friendly, Lynsi enjoys working with others and is lively, warm company.” Hmmm . . . yet my two work BFFs are both “intensely proactive and aggressive in driving to reach their goals. Actively and boldly challenge the world, their business, and even others’ areas within their business. Resourceful and forceful in overcoming obstacles, they vigorously and directly attack problems; fights back hard when challenged.” They both are risk-takers while I follow rules and authority. I totally thought I was a rebel! Nope. I’m booooring. Which brings up: are the options boring or bitchy?

I swear though my core personality is friendly, outgoing and very team-oriented, I have become less tolerant and more aggressive since becoming a mom. One of my work BFFs who cited above is aggressive-when-challenged, swears she was nicer before she was a mom. Does becoming a mom change our personality? Or do we somehow turn into a momma bear of ass-kicking once we have a little one to protect?

I don’t know these answers but I do know I’ve become less tolerant of incompetency at work since returning from my maternity leave. I assumed it was because in my mind, if I’m going to spend nearly 12 hours away from my kid, the time better count and I have no patience for people who are wasting my time. And I do feel like I’ve become better at my job since being a mom. And maybe it’s because I’m learning how to be more aggressive and less tolerant while still being “a pleasant and extroverted person.” Maybe I’m learning to be a perfect blend. Yes, I’ll go with that. After all, I did give birth to absolute perfection.

A week ago today, my grandmother – Grandma Peg – passed away peacefully. Losing a grandparent is always an odd thing in that the grandparent-grandchild relationship very commonly is that of unconditional love and fun; a relationship that is difficult to replicate with anyone else. Your parents offer unconditional love but there is a lot of discipline, chores and other such nonsense involved. Grandparents just spoil you. At least Grandma Peg did. Sure, she also was the moral compass of our family, a true matriarch with conservative values and framed pictures of the Bush clan in her house. But after her strong relationship with God, she valued her family the most despite any troubles we ran into.

She loved talking about our strong family history and she meticulously put together a hand-written family tree on the back of wallpaper – a tree that covered a wall in her basement. She had an engraved family tree made with birthstones, representing her growing family of five children and their spouses, 12 grandchildren and their spouses, and nearly 15 (I’ve lost count!) great-grandchildren.

I know people who give up on baby books but not Grandma Peg. With five children, a family business she helped support and an active church member, she meticulously created baby books for all of her children and “Grandma Remembers” books for all of her grandchildren. She kept shoe boxes filled with our photos, drawings, school reports, etc and included them in the scrapbooks.

Rob, Tessa and I traveled back to Wisconsin last week for her funeral; to pay respect to this wonderful woman. I had the opportunity to walk around her house by myself and in silence. So many memories flooded back. My grandparents had been written up in the local newspaper when they celebrated their 50^th wedding anniversary. I was visiting them in Wisconsin when the photo shoot took place and walking by those framed photos made me smile with warm remembrance. Walking through her basement and past the pool table, I remembered the time my cousin Heidi got her elbow stuck in one of the table holes and Grandma Peg greased and rubbed her arm out with loving care. And sitting at her kitchen table, I remembered just talking. Grandma Peg was blessed with the ability to gab and having grown up during the depression and having had so many life experiences, she was a joy to listen to and I always walked away having learned something.

Grandma Peg never met Tessa, something that deeply disappoints me. However, before she died I was able to talk to her on the phone. I told her about Tessa and that I had sent pictures to her. She said she had seen them. I told my grandmother that I loved her, that I had a wonderful little family with Rob and Tessa and that I was happy. It meant a lot to me to share my family happiness with her since she valued it so much as well. She said she loved me too.

Right before Rob and I left for the airport, I woke up Tessa from a nap she was having on my grandmother’s bed. It felt like life had come full circle to see my little baby sleeping where my grandmother had not so long ago. And at that moment, it was as if the two did meet and Tessa was able to experience Grandma Peg’s love, presence and rich family history. It seems we now have an angel watching over us all.

I want my happy baby back. Seriously. Like STAT. I miss her soooo much. She has been terribly sick for nearly a month of her 4-month life and it’s breaking her mama’s (that’s me!) heart.

It started as a cough, went into a double ear infection, then she was healed (Hallelujah!) for a few days (damnit) and then got a really bad cough, the ear infection is STILL present – WTH? – and snot is running freely. Why? Why God? Why?

And to top it off . . . we’re flying to Wisconsin (where the high is 21 degrees) tomorrow.

The only saving grace is that Rob isn’t sick. If I had a sick husband AND baby . . . man, life wouldn’t be pleasant.

But we’re all ready for the trip. Packed. Yay. And in case you’re wondering, yes, you can spend over $100 on travel-sized baby supplies at CVS. Who knew? We have baby vapor rub, diaper cream, baby Tylenol, baby gas relief, her antibiotic, numbing ear drops, you get the picture. And, yes, it did total just over $100. Whatever. I need to feel prepared. And you know how people say knowledge is power? Well, for me those little bottles are my power. Power to the mama!

Wish us luck!