Simon Crosses The Border: Visits Texas

Little Man Simon was my traveling companion to Texas this week. The purpose of the trip was to help my parents while they watched my sister's two kids: Patrick is 3 and Thomas is 18 months old. They are very adorable little boys, and they are also a handful. My parents have made a bit of a situation with the boys by indulging just about every whim that either of them has ever had. It's pretty funny to watch Patrick boss my parents around all day long, but it was also somewhat scary and heartbreaking to see how tired my parents are after being ultra-permissive grandparents all day long. I really don't like to see that my parents are losing steam at an appropriate pace for 60-year-olds. I want them to be energetic and 30-something forever.

Anyway, my parents sounded like they could use reinforcements, so Simon and I hopped on Southwest Airlines and swooped in. I am not sure we were that much help to my parents, but I did use the iPhone to distract the boys at several critical junctures to avoid altercations over a train set.

I do what I can.

Simon was a great traveler. His very first blow out EVER from his diaper occurred 30 minutes before we left for the airport. I was grateful that didn't happen after we left for the airport. And, speaking of airport, Mommy and Simon took the blue line train to O'Hare and as soon as I stepped off the train, I realized we were supposed to be at Midway Airport. I was shocked that I made that mistake. More shocking is that Jeff-- Mr. Logistics himself-- didn't realize our mistake. We are definitely still skating close to survival mode. Jeff and I laughed at ourselves and then somehow managed to get me and Simon to Midway in time for the flight. With about 3 minutes to spare.

Unbelievable.

Sleep deprivation is a very harsh mistress.

Once in Dallas, I got the thrill of a lifetime when my best friend from high school and I were able to meet up at her daughter's soccer game. I can't tell you how happy I was to be able to take Simon to Caruth Park and meet Stephanie's two kids and her husband. I had not seen her since her wedding in the summer of 1999. So many times I came to Dallas wishing to connect with her and meet her children, but I didn't reach out. Lots of people say that are bad at keeping in touch. I say it all the time, and it's historically been true for me.

When there are things about myself I wish I could change (like I wish I could embrace Excel spreadsheets), the top of the list is this character defect about staying in touch. I don't like that I have let fears keep me from experiencing connection with people like Stephanie. We had such a nice visit, and her daughter scored the winning goal of the soccer game, which added to the sense of euphoria swirling around the afternoon. Driving back from the park to my parents' house I was struck with a wave of grief for all I had missed. Specifically with Stephanie. And sadly there are other connections broken because I couldn't take in the possibility that no one needed me to be married or have children or have a dazzling career or a perfect brownie recipe or a size 4 skinny jean. Those were voices in my head that told me I couldn't connect (or reconnect) until some magical time in the future when I would be bulletproof from any feelings of shame or any worry about whether or not I was right in the world. I kept telling myself I could get in touch as soon as I was married or felt more confident or understood myself better or never felt shame. When I was fixed I would have the relationships I always wanted.

I am sad to report that 2 decades went by.

It's bittersweet to report that I wasn't broken in the first place. I had some pretty ill-founded ideas about people and what they wanted from me. Worse than being ill-founded, they were persistent ideas that seemed smart, insightful, obvious and true as I walked the planet thinking about them. I am grateful I began to question these ideas before any more decades went by, but for such a smart lady, it took a while to learn that no one gives a shit what size my jeans are (except for me) and no one was repulsed by me when I was single and not yet a mother.

I actually treasure the grief that I felt driving from Caruth Park back to my parents house. The grief is proof that I had done something different; that I had taken different actions. After reading the Girls From Ames this summer and having a real Come to Jesus with myself about people I loved and missed and wanted to connect with, I was able to ask a mutual friend about how to get in touch with Stephanie. I emailed her this summer and felt happy to be in touch. It was not about having arrived at any specific place in my life, but rather, it was about being done waiting and being ready to offer and receive love. Had I not shown up at this visit, I would have never felt the grief at all. I would have just continued to live in the numb place of "I wish I could connect with my dear high school friend Stephanie," and motored on with a story in my head about how I am "not good at keeping in touch."

Happy as hell to report that I am giving that story the finger. The. Finger.

My hope for Sadie and Simon is that I can raise them to accept love and friendship and to trust their inner lights and to follow the laughter and love from one day to the next so that they can build unbroken lines of friendship no matter what happens along the way. I just hope they can gave the grace to let themselves off the hook and they can examine the stories they tell themselves so they don't have to lose time hiding out waiting to be perfect to show up for love that was there all along.

My hope for myself is that I continue to let the love of other people wash over me even when I am messy, and my brows need some waxing and my hair needs some washing; when I am irrational or lost or pathetic or big and shiny and happy and giddy and in awe of my own blessings. My hope is to show up as myself, with all my ambivalence and my talent and my joy and my sorrows and my yearnings.

My mantra for April is "there is only love." So far it's working, except for that guy who cut me off on Ashland. For that guy there was love and a little bit of rage that he would try to cut off a nice lady like me in a mini-van.

There is only love.

Little Boy

Would you look at that little smile? And those cheeks! And that chin. He's all Tate, this one. He's even got a little dimple, which is actually not from my side of the family, but it's damn cute.

Our Prince is thriving amidst the chaos that is our life. He did a 5 hour sleep stretch on Friday night, which, according to someone quite sadistic, is considered "sleeping through the night." Um, not sure who decided sleeping from 9-2 was "sleeping through the night," but you can't fight City Hall.

I am diving into my life as a stay-at-home mom (on maternity leave) and venturing into play groups and Gymboree and lunch dates and walks with the kids, now that the snow has melted. Simon is very laid back and as long as he gets his meals and his clean diapers to poop in, he's pretty content. Simon is starting to smile and make more eye contact. I am singing Graceland to him all the time-- not sure why, but it's turned into "our song"-- and I swear he's tapping his feet to the beat. He's still got that newborn snorty thing going on so between him and Jeff's snoring it's a bit of a symphony in the bedroom during the night. I am pleased as punch that he seems to be sleeping pretty well and we are learning his rythyms more and more every day.

This week should be interesting. I am hosting a neighborhood playgroup on Wednesday afternoon. The part that makes it interesting is that I am somewhat afraid of other mothers. All other mothers. I am not sure why. There is so much second-guessing and it's so political nowadays to be a mom, that it makes me nervous to be around other mothers. And, because I just joined this play group I don't really know anything about the other moms, except their kids' names and their zip codes. They all seem truly very nice, but I am in transition thinking about my role as a professional and a mom and I project onto them that they have it all figured out.

I don't.

I may never figure it all out.

All I know is that I am scared and unsure, but it also seems like the right thing to get to know other moms in my neighborhood. They have already been a great resource for sleeping issues, and where to take children for fun and what to do about schools, etc. It's a great thing so I am just facing the fear and inviting them all into my house for some fun and levity. Or at least for an hour and a half while our kids steal toys from each other, melt down and generally help us all get in touch with shame.

You gotta love what kids do for your life.

Monkey Baby!

Our favorite monkey baby is thriving and growing. He's made it to six weeks! I am a little nervous about the six week growth spurt that allegedly will find him wanting to nurse round the clock. I am trying to prepare myself for this, as I may happen any day now.

Yesterday, I went on a walk with both kids for about an hour and a half with a little detour to Starbucks. It was a nice sunny day, but it was still only about 34 degrees. Sadie didn't have any gloves on, so I had to improvise. At Starbucks I took off my socks and made her wear them on her hands for the rest of the ride home. She didn't really enjoy having my socks on her hands, but it was better than frostbite, or so I tried to explain to her.

Simon is sleeping pretty well. I confess that we have him sleep in his car seat in our bedroom, which is not exactly surgeon general approved, but he did a stretch of 4.5 hours (9:00 p.m. - 1:30 a.m.) on Friday night and if all it took was to make his car seat a bed, then that's what we are doing. Obviously, not a long term solution, but we are on the survival plan still, so we only need to worry about the next 8 hours.

It's a bird, it's a plane...it's SIMON.

When I haven't been blogging, which is approximately 6 days and 23.5 hours of the past week, here's what we've been up to:

1. Simon had an ultra-sound at Children's Hospital for a potential spinal issue, that turned out to be all normal. He's got a little patch of hair at the base of his spine that concerned our pediatrician so we got an ultrasound at one of the most somber places I have ever been: a children's hospital. We are very grateful all is well with Simon's spine.

2. Mommy got a little cyst on her breast that hurt like the Dickens and got to take some antibiotics while trying to still "nurse around it." Won't be sad when that goes away.

3. Sadie got her first ever ear infection, which landed her in the after-hours clinic at 8:30 p.m. on Monday night. More antibiotics for Team Ellis.

4. Jeff had his first overnight trip for work and Mommy did some solo parenting of two. OMG, please send chocolates and sedatives...single parenting is not for the weak of heart. Thank god it was only for a few hours each day.

5. Go ahead. That's what the OB/GYN said to me about running, lifting Sadie, taking a bath, moving furniture. Anything I want. Time to say goodbye to the period of recuperation-- we are in a new phase now. (I think we can call it exhaustion and freak out.)

6. We saw a Montessori school in our neighborhood that we absolutely loved. One downside is that it's easier to win the Illinois State lottery than it is to get in. Another downside, once we get in, it's not cheap. Ahhhh, life in the city.

7. Mommy went to an attachment parenting meeting and walked away thinking she's a horrible mother because she is not rocking the "family bed" or wearing her baby from dusk til dawn. There are so many beautiful principles of attachment parenting. Unfortunately, my charming personality will only let me focus on the ones that Jeff and I believe are not right for our family. This mothering-competition-inadequacy cycle is a real noose around my neck. I hate it. And, I can't stop.

That's pretty much it. Simon is almost 6 weeks old. I am officially out of maternity clothes and into my "fat" pants. Jeff had a birthday that we acknowledged with a nice breakfast with friends. We are one toe removed from pure survival mode. It feels good.

Now, please excuse me, I have to go do something motherly.

SIMON

Well, the lack of blogging tells you more about the state of affairs in my world than my simple recounting of the zaniness that is two children under two.

Simon turned 1 month old yesterday and weighed in at just over 11 lbs. He's growing up so fast. I love his pudgy little cheeks and his belly is getting huge, which is also nice because I think it means he may sleep more than 45 minutes at a time. A mother can dream...

So, he's been eating a lot, which is how he got from 8lbs to 11.1lbs in a month. He's a decent sleeper for a kid his age and he is the sweetest little boy I have ever given birth too.

Now that I am out of the shock of the experience, and the blizzard of 2011 has come and gone (thank god), I hope to blog more often. I can't believe how fast this is all going. Yesterday, the pediatrician told us that a new born is technically any baby under 2 months of age. So, we have one month left with our little newborn son.

A recap: Not much sleeping, Simon is growing and getting fuller, and we are through the first month of his life. Would I want to relive that month? Not particularly. The C-section recovery is as intense as last time, but all the more so because I can't pick up Sadie and it freaking hurts to have major abdominal surgery. The first few weeks of nursing were a little painful and only now starting to abate. Spring is closer and we are getting out and about.

I love this guy, but perfectly happy to be in the current moment and look forward to the delicious future days with my family.

Sibling LOVE

In case you didn't know, it's hard to get a 19-month old and a newborn baby to pose for a family photo. Also, when you have the aforementioned children, it's very hard to blog. So, let's be explicit: Sadie's baby blog may have more entries, but it's not because I love her more than Simon. Simon's baby log has less entries because I am working hard to keep everyone alive and well. (A feat that is ten times harder than my friends told me it would be. Still working through my resentment on that one!)

So, Simon is great. Our big project is to teach him the difference between night and day. Currently, he favors sleeping all day and snuffling, eating, and generally being awake all night. He's cute but his sense of schedule blows.

I love these little bugs and can't believe they are mine.

Awwwwww.....

Look at our resident cutie! With a face like this I can forgive him for some of his, shall we say, foibles. Specifically, that he loves to poop only seconds after I just changed is diaper. Then, he likes to pee all over my arms. He's really baptizing me by fire with this whole "I am a boy and I have boy parts" thing. He's a big old sleepy head DURING THE DAY. At night? Not so much. It's too soon to call in the big guns of sleep training, but the all day sleep fest and the all night snorting and rustling fest has raised my eyebrows a bit.