I think I missed my calling in life. (I mean Dallas.)


I *should've* been spending our time here trying out every taco joint and making an authoritative and comprehensive guide to Dallas tacos. If there's one thing Dallas does right, it's tacos.
Now with a mere 3 weeks left, I just don't think I have the time.


You know what they say.
Hindsight is 20/20.

ode to a 1 year old

Don't get me wrong. I love babies.
I love skinny babies and chunky babies. Preemie babies and babies that grow too quickly. Babies that snuggle and babies that move.

But I think I love one year olds more.
Becoming an aunt at age 12 and having 15 nieces or nephews before having a child of my own showed me a lot of baby stages--and one year olds have always proved to be pretty tops. I've anxiously looked forward to this time of life, and trust me, Greta has been no disappointment. At 18 months, here's a few of my favorite things about her.

Her manners. She is VERY good at saying "please." She says it every time she wants to be done with dinner and whenever she wants something. She's also very good at wiping her mouth at the table.

How she blows raspberries on me whenever possible.

How she loves rocks and sticks.

How she's a little shy to try new things in front of people.

How she sets the table.

How she slings a purse or bag over her shoulder to go somewhere, and absolutely cannot leave the house without one stuffed animal.

How she waves her arms to dance.

How she is NO show-pony. On webcam with family she is often pretty dead-pan. She does not like to do tricks for other people, thanks. She does not perform on command. And I kind of love it.

How she likes to play ring around the roses.

How she cannot STAND someone going to the bathroom or showering without her. She will knock on that door and holler in until someone opens it for her to come in.

How she says no when she means yes. And how if we question her on it and say "do you really mean yes?" she'll respond "Yaaaesh."

How she exclaims "Oooohhh!"

How she kisses me very romantically. (I don't know where this girl has picked it up. She grabs my face, her mouth half open, and kisses me for a solid ten seconds. It's very affectionate. Sometimes she'll go back for more kisses.)

How she cooks. Taking one pot out of the cupboard and putting spices in it and then a lid on top.

How I know she's woken up from a nap because I hear quacking from the other room.

How she gets this delirious hysterical crazy goofy at the grocery store sometimes. I mean, it's also impossible to work with and involves so much wrestling and bribery and usually having Jason there whenever possible. But it's pretty funny.

Her little mullet curls. They are so sweet and dear to me.

How if she ever catches me sitting on the floor she will immediately and carefully start backing up until she is sitting on my lap.

How she can't stand not being in the middle of things or not knowing what's going on. She has some serious FOMO. You're cooking up there? I need to see! Working at the computer? Let me come, too!
Or the way she tries to come sit in the front seat of the car instead of the back, or always just wants to sleep in our bed. She's also pretty convinced she knows how to do everything.

How she loves to read. And really loves libraries and bookstores.

How much she thinks about animals, as evidenced by the frequent animal noises.

Her petite little body. We laughed the other day when we put a shirt on her that she has literally been wearing for the past YEAR. (It's size 3-6 months). She's starting to grow, but we have to be really careful getting the right clothes that will fit her skinny waistline, narrow shoulders, be long enough, and still go over her large head. (Percentile-wise she's in the 3rd for weight and like 60th for head.)

How everything except water is "juice."

How much she hugs. And how much she obliges if I say, "want a hug?"

She was playing peek-a-boo at the moment.

I love this baby girl.

(Okay, okay. She has now spent the past two consecutive nights sleeping all night in her own bed. This morning at 6 she did wake up, let out a "Woof! Woof!" and then immediately fall back asleep.

So it might not be THAT terrible all the time.)

Greta the Bed-Bully.

I have a draft of a post about how darling my 18 month old is. Last night I was uploading beautiful pictures of her and was going to write a whole host of nice things. Instead, this post might take a different tone. We have had some rough nights and mornings around here.

Most nights, we fall asleep with her, transfer her to her bed. Invariably, at some point in the night, she wakes up -- sees us on top of our airbed a mere 2 feet away. She stands up, walks over to me, and taps the bed saying "Up, up" until someone picks her up.
(Needless to say, we are greatly looking forward to getting more established somewhere and not having the same living/sleeping arrangements. Turns out it's really hard to keep a baby out of your bed when your bed is RIGHT next to theirs and they watch you sleep.)

This is how it goes from that point:

If you let Greta in your bed...
She would like to be spooned. Which is kinda sweet, right?
But she will also demand that no blanket touch her body.
(*Unless* she is a little bit cold. Then she would like a blanket covering her freezing toes until they warm up. At which point all blankets must be removed and none must make any contact with her.)

In her anxiousness to clear the space of all blankets, she may remove your blankets as well. Which you have to readjust very carefully so they cover you, do not cover all 32" tall of her, and still reach over to your spouse on the other side. It's an interesting U-formation that has to be very carefully done.
She will then realize that the very bottom of your pillow grazes the very top of her head. Which is unacceptable and she will fight until appropriate arrangements are made.

She will then require some back-rubbing and kisses to start to fall asleep.
At which point, she will roll over to now face you. (You, of course, being mom. Because mom is the one true person to sleep with.)
As she rolls over, she will roll over crashing into you. She would like to sleep exactly in your space where you have been sleeping. You must scoot over to allow her to do this. If you simply put her back in the middle of the bed in her new position, she will cry and scream. a lot. So you give in and roll over to the edge of the bed.

At this point, your spouse may say, "Greta, stop being a bully." Or your spouse may alternately quip, "Greta, you will make a very good wife someday," indicating her bed-takeover skills are already top-notch.

As she now faces you (while you sleep in a small space on the edge of the bed), she would still like to make contact and snuggle with you. But she will run into your blankets. So she will kick and push you away, angry at the existence of blankets on a bed.
As she flails and cries out and her little legs go flying into your face, you will scoot farther off the bed, while angrily muttering, "You have to be nice if you want to be in this bed."
She will still be unable to relax and will continue to be bothered by... we're not really sure.
So you will pick up all your blankets and move to the other side of her to allow her the open space she needs. Keep in mind it is 5am.

As you are now safely on the other side, with all blankets, and she has nothing touching her and a large radius of space, she will realize she is perhaps still uncomfortable. She may want to be spooned again.
She may want to have her back rubbed, which she will indicate by pointing to her back and tapping.
She will almost be asleep, until she starts talking. And scooting over until she finds you again.
At which point she will realize you have a pillow. Which she is again angry at, and bats it away until you move it or remove it entirely.
But she may decide the idea of a pillow sounds nice, and she will come steal said pillow and park her head on it. So you will give her your pillow, cursing her name. You will steal your spouse's pillow, who has now left the bed.

At some point, she may drift back to sleep.
You may not. Or you may for awhile.
Eventually you've decided she is asleep enough to move her to her own bed.
She will make the transition just fine.
For 10 minutes.
Until a little voice starts whimpering. A little dark head of hair will stand up, make it's way over to the bed, start poking and tapping.... etc etc.

Repeat until daylight.


At which point she wakes up, smiling, laughing, and somewhat resembling this child:

...which is precisely how she'll make it through another day.

The Rule

So I originally wrote this right after we arrived in Texas and just let it sit on my little private blog. But I decided to bring it out and share it a little more publicly -- just in case it comes in handy for anyone else out there.

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Recently, I went to two baby showers where we had to write advice to the mothers-to-be. I sat there sheepishly and couldn't come up with a thing. I was pretty sure I'd learned something in the past year and a half, but I sat mostly brain-dead.

Guys. I have remembered some advice. It is very important. Crucial, I'd say.

I know I don't have a lot of experience and I only have one child, but this is the advice I'd give to another first-time mom. It applies most to stay-at-home moms, or moms that stay at home a lot of the time.

THE RULE

Here's the rule: you have to get out of the house. You have to leave the house at some point every day. You need a plan, or an errand, or a visit.

(DISCLAIMER: If you're not a mom yet, I know this idea of *not* leaving the house in a day might sound absurd. I would've thought it sounded awful and horrible. Just wait, and don't judge. There may come a day of understanding for you yet.)

That's it. Just leave the house. It doesn't really matter what it is. But it has to be conscientious.

The days when I feel most unhappy are when I haven't left the apartment. I feel stir-crazy, yes, but usually by about 3pm I also get sad or weepy or anxious. I might get frustrated with my husband more easily or more frustrated by our situation in life. But one of the most common side effects is that I feel poorly about myself.

It's not that I haven't accomplished anything that day. I tend to keep myself productive and I've probably accomplished a great deal. I may have even done professional work, kept up on my emails, or accomplished something I had been looking forward to. But, strangely enough, I don't feel a sense of accomplishment for the day unless I've left the house.

HOW TO DO IT:

There are many ways to leave the house. You probably have enough errands that need attending to. You have a household to upkeep and people to provide sustenance and clothing for. You probably have returns. You probably have a shower coming up that you need to find a present for. And you might find, like me, that once you're out you find even more places that you need to go. Michael's? Obviously I need to go there. Target? I think so.

But then I started realizing that I needed to be able to get out of the house without spending money. We can't afford for me to just go aimlessly spend money every day. But my sanity and well-being can't afford not to get out of the house every day.

So then you start planning field trips. The library. Parks. Splash pads. The rec center. Grandma's house. Playdates. Hikes. The post office. Anything.

SOMETIMES YOU WILL FEEL SILLY. Because you have a 6 month old who doesn't actually care that you're at the library, let alone at story-time. Or you have a 9 month old that doesn't care too much about a playdate. Or a 1 year old that really doesn't want to be at the museum.

But remember, IT'S NOT FOR THEM--IT'S FOR YOU. It's not that it doesn't affect them. It will. They will observe and learn and be stimulated by a new environment. And it also establishes good habits and good traditions for both of you. And I dare say that you will have better relationships and good memories together as a result. 

But really. It's okay to do it for YOU. To learn and experience new things outside the home. To get a breath of fresh air. To meet new people and make new friends. To see more of the world.

I took my one year old to art museums over a dozen times this summer and she didn't particularly like it. In fact, she often hated it and cried. We usually didn't last altogether too long. But it made me think and feel alive and let me experience some great things. I have a tender memory of standing and holding back tears at an exhibit in the Whitney Museum while my daughter sat watching the museum curator make faces to entertain her. You know, at that moment she wasn't getting anything out of the art--but it was what I needed. I needed to be moved by those Jacob Lawrence paintings and maybe she needed a new face smiling at her. And I have a feeling that taking her to art museums in her childhood might have a significant impact in ways I can't yet recognize.

OTHER THOUGHTS

When I'm not working (which sometimes comes in projects or seasons for me and my field), I sometimes become quite reclusive. Like, not-answer-the-door-several-times-in-one-day reclusive. I know. It's an issue. Once again, this isn't something I ever expected of myself at 25. Sometimes I know I need to get out, so I try and break out by just going out and checking the mail. Or running things to the dumpster. I've left the house, right? But this is a cop out and I know it. I've left the apartment, but not left the property. It doesn't leave me feeling better.

I'm not entirely sure why happiness and accomplishment for me are so directly linked to leaving the house, but I have a few ideas.

When you are a mother and your life suddenly isn't run by professional or school deadlines, it needs a little structure. It's not that it won't have any structure--because that's a big fat lie. There's feeding schedules and nap schedules and sleep schedules. There's your husband's schedules (which don't revolve around the baby's) and social schedules and family schedules, too. But you don't choose those schedules very much.

The truth also stands that most of your errands could probably be pushed to another day, and you don't have a boss who would yell at you for it. Or your creative endeavors or service projects or correspondence or visits could be wiggled around. Procrastinated. Saved for later. 

So you need to create a schedule. And you need to create a motivation. 

At first, it can be so hard to find a time of the day to get out of the house. I remember wondering how I'd ever find a block of time where my infant would a) be fed and b) not be napping or needing to nap soon and where I would simultaneously also be a) fed and b) put together enough to go out. That new baby thing is hard!

While it does get easier, you still do have to push yourself to get out of the house. And to do it you might leave a bowl of cheerios in milk on the table or toys scattered across the front room or wearing an outfit that isn't entirely pulled together. But it feels so good--in part because if you can get out, you feel in control and like you can do this motherhood gig. Not to mention doing wonders for restlessness or anxious hearts.

THE EXCEPTION

You decide when this sets in. That first month or first six weeks or first three months or first six months or however long, you might need to not leave the house. And that's just fine. 

My sequestered, home-bound maternity leave was a little bit forced. I had a C-section and my doctor instructed me not to drive for at least a month. I also had a preemie who had recently gotten surgery, so we didn't really want to take her around.

And that first month, man, was great. I mean, it was really hard in a lot of the new-mom ways, but I also ended up feeling a sense of freedom. I suddenly had no deadlines or no one expecting anything of me. After all, I'd just had a baby. They weren't expecting to hear from me or for me to accomplish anything other than love my baby.

So I did.

I spent long, exceptionally quiet days holding my baby. I held her when she napped because I wanted to. I was very alone, and very okay with the peace and quiet. I thought about how I *could* be doing other things like cleaning up or organizing baby clothes or cooking or writing thank-you notes, but how I was mostly going to sit and hold my baby, thanks.

It was really nice. But it didn't last forever. And then I started wanting to take my baby out and experience the world with her. And then I started needing to do more things to not be a neglectful member of society. And then I needed to be needed outside the home. And then I also wanted to go out so I could experience the world again for myself and remember what it felt like to be me, and not just a mother. 

This isn't to say that you might have other periods of life where you need to just slow down for the sake of you or your kids or your family. You know you and your family enough to make that call and know when you need to NOT leave the house. That's just fine.

BABIES NEED TO GET OUT, TOO

We just moved this week to the middle of nowhere where we know relatively nobody. We're here temporarily, and don't know what the next step is. So I'm not working, nor do I really have major goals. We're also feeling pretty alone. I don't interact with people most days more than my husband and 16-month old.

I've been thinking a lot this week about how important it is becoming for me to get out more. To do more. To be a part of this new city more, especially as I've found myself discontent. But I didn't realize that my toddler was suffocating, too. The past few days she's been taking my keys to the door and standing to be let out. Or this morning, when she solemnly stood by the door in her diaper and said, "please?"--a wave of realization just hit.

She needs it right now just as much as I do. She needs to get out.

So that's it. That's my mother advice. 

Get out of the house every day. 

I know it doesn't come with a lot of clout. And I imagine things might change if you had more than one baby, or lived in a house and not in a one-bedroom apartment. I actually have no idea how important it might be for you or what might apply--so you can take it for what it's worth. But in this house, it's worth a lot.