Balancing Act

A couple of nights ago, I thought my daughter had stopped breathing. 

I'm a little paranoid naturally, and becoming a mother has only intensified that. I recognize my thoughts are often irrational and unfounded, and I can usually talk myself off the figurative ledge fairly easily. When it comes to my baby though, I require more hard proof before I can effectively quell my fearful thinking. I allow myself to check on her since we only have an audio and not a video monitor, and especially since she learned to roll onto her tummy about two weeks ago. The few times I've checked on her to ease my worried mind, she's stirred as soon as I open the door and immediately assuaged my concerns. So when I tiptoed into her nursery tonight, I sort of expected that kind of immediate assurance of her well-being. But she didn't move. I told myself I could hear her breathing, even though I couldn't, and put my hand near her tiny button nose, pressed scarily close to the mattress since she'd rolled onto her tummy, and felt for her breath.

I didn't feel a thing. After the longest 5 seconds of my life, she took a calm deep breath, and relief washed over me in a warm wave. Immediately I started crying, and quietly left her bedside so as not to wake her. As I walked downstairs, I tried to process what had happened. I couldn't kid myself that it was a small deal, and had a good cry on my husband's shoulder while he echoed out loud what I'd been repeating in my head: she's strong, she's ok, it's ok to check on her. He encouraged me to go back upstairs and hold her, so we went up together. I picked her up and fed her while she slept, and then just sat in the nursery a while longer, holding my sweet baby and feeling my heart overflow with love and gratitude.

When I wrote earlier that "I allow myself to check on her" I meant that I try not to be a crazy, overprotective helicopter mom. I try to be logical and reasonable, and trust that the worst has not happened every time my daughter sleeps a little longer than usual. But I'm also not going to deny myself a visit to her nursery when I get that nagging feeling that I just NEED to see her. For me, this translates to finding balance, which I work on a daily basis to obtain in every aspect of my life. Note: that does not mean I always, or even usually, succeed. But I work towards it. I can't ignore the emotions and intuition that guide me to check on my baby, but I also won't allow them to overpower my entire thought process and unreasonably consume me. Except that sometimes I do (both the former and the latter), and then I'm off balance, so I just work to get it back. 

We are constantly being pulled in multiple and sometimes opposing directions, and the worst of the battle is usually not external, but in our minds. Rather than condemn ourselves for sometimes erring toward one extreme or another (because we will), let's just take each situation as a lesson in balance. When you get that nagging feeling in your gut telling you to ditch reason, go with your gut. And when you start to feel like maybe you're letting your gut dictate everything, maybe tell it to shut up once in a while. Let's keep searching for that happy medium between effort and ease, strength and softness, reason and intuition. And let's help one another in our daily quest for that happy medium, by recognizing that, despite differences in the details of our life experiences, we're all really in the same boat. And when we fall out of balance, let's go a little easier on ourselves and each other. We'll all appreciate the encouragement, especially from ourselves.

So tonight, mommies, daddies, and everyone else, I'm sending you scoops of love and peace, and reminding you that it's ok to fall out of balance sometimes. You'll find it again. We always do.

Feelin' Crafty

Do you like crafts? Are you a mega-procrastinator? Let's be friends. :)

But seriously, today I'd like to share with you a Christmas craft I recently accomplished. Yes, it's January. And what? Now stop judging me and enjoy the easiest craft tutorial of your life.

SUPPLIES!

• clear Christmas ornaments (I used glass balls, but you could use plastic if you're a total klutz, or other shapes if you're feeling fancy)
• shi stuff to stuff inside the ornaments (I used small feathers, and large paper confetti, but you could use glitter, sand, your baby's fingernail clippings, anything relatively small and/or pliable that fits through the opening of the ornaments, and that you'd like to preserve and display)
• a pencil, pen, straw, or similarly shaped item (this one's important)

Let's start with an inspiring image:

Ooooo, ahhhh!

Step 1

Pull the stopper/hanger (it's a technical term) out of the top of your ornament.

Step 2

Grab your small shi stuff and gently feed it into the opening of the ornament. Important: You may need to use your pencil/pen/straw thing to coerce your stuff into your ornament. DO NOT shove your finger all the way into the opening of a glass ornament! Here's why:

See that thin little line that almost looks like a crack in the top of the ornament? That is not a crack. That is a GLASS SLIVER OF PAIN. I learned the hard way folks. That's right, stuck my finger in there and got it caught on some glass barbed wire on the way out. Momentary panic ensued. It's fine, I'm fine, I'm good now, everything's ok. It was a rough night for everyone though. Don't repeat my mistake! Use a pencil. Or a straw.

Step 3

Carefully reinsert the stopper/hanger thing. It's pretty self-explanatory, but in case it's not, just gently pinch the outstretched wire bits at the bottom back towards each other, place them in the opening of the ornament, and gently push the whole contraption back down into the opening of the ornament. It should snap right back into place. If it doesn't, you fu screwed up somehow. Idunno. Send me a photo, I'll try to walk you through it.

That's it! Toldja it was easy. As I mentioned above, I used feathers and some confetti to fill my ornaments. Back story? They were from my wedding, which happened over 3 years ago. (Mega-procrastination!) These things were a long time coming. The feathers, in my opinion, look great. The large confetti? It looked ok when I first put it together:

But when I propped it up like it would be hanging on a tree? Not so much. All that heavy paper just massed together at the bottom of the globe. (Oh yes, I threw a couple leftover feathers in there, which made it look even more haphazard.)

Probably would look nicer with small confetti, especially the shiny metallic stuff, which I imagine would sort of stick to the sides so you could see it better. Try it out, lemme know how it goes.

In case you're wondering, you should be able to find these supplies at most craft stores. I purchased the ornaments from Michael's, and the feathers from JoAnn's (I think, but hey, it was over 3 years ago). My sister made the confetti when I nicely asked her, as my bridesmaid, to use a heart shaped punch to destroy some crappy reprint sheet music I jetted out of my printer so my "flower" girls would have something to throw around before I walked down the aisle. I can't fairly call it a DIY win, but I can call it a GSETDIFY win. Mad props if you can decode that acronym.

The moral of this tutorial is: do your crafts. Even if it takes you 3 years to get around to it. You'll feel better. Consider this one a head start on next Christmas. (Procrastination comes full circle: mega-preparedness!)

Bath Time Isn't So Poopy

Scoops has never enjoyed baths. Not since the first wipe down with a warm washcloth while still in the hospital. We've tried a bubble bath in a dishpan, the Puj Flyte infant tub, and good ol' sponge baths on the changing table. She hates them all. Screams bloody murder, usually. Ironically, the day after my first post on this blog, Scoops had a major blowout. SO MUCH POOP. So much laundry. And a bath was highly necessary. Sigh. So balancing a poopy baby in one arm, I readied the bath in the sink with my spare hand, gathering towels and washcloths and wondering whether it was even worth it to put the nightgown in the laundry (I never really liked that pink elephant nightgown anyway). Finally, everything was ready, and tossing the poopy nightgown in the big bathtub (quick decision!) I braced myself for her screams as I lowered Scoops into her little sink bath. And...

Nothing. Not a peep. She made a funny face, but then just kinda spaced out and chilled in the bath. HALLELUJAH! Our first non-crying bath! OK she did cry once, for a couple seconds as I was finishing up with a clean rinse right before I took her out of the bath. It was really more like whining, and it was over almost as soon as it started. And then I realized - that was a successful day. I felt so accomplished. Seriously! If I hadn't accomplished anything else that day (amazingly, I did) I still would have felt proud about the comparative great success of that bath.

Clean, happy girl

So here's the part where we talk about success. What does it mean to be successful? How do we define success, as a person in general and specifically as a mom or dad? For me, success means feeling content or happy most of the time, loving myself, fostering meaningful relationships with the people closest to my heart, being kind whenever possible, and maintaining adequate financial stability. These first few months as a new mom, I've had to simplify how I put even those basic tenants into action. I don't have the energy for "extras" and that's ok. I've learned to accept it (although sometimes I have to re-learn acceptance on the daily). So if I don't get my floors cleaned, 3 actual meals (not snacks) made, and a couple errands outside the house accomplished all in one day, that's ok. If all I do in a day right now is hold and play with my baby, keep her fed and clean and happy, and do the same for myself, that's enough. I am enough.

The other day I actually started running through what I had accomplished before noon, and was seriously congratulating myself for pumping, cooking oatmeal, eating said oatmeal while it was still hot, washing the dishes, and getting dressed. That was enough! And it needs to be enough. If I start enumerating all the ways in which I don't measure up by traditional standards, I'll get depressed. Once I go back to work, which is very likely to happen in the near future, I'll have to readjust my own standards anyway. I hear new moms all the time asking "How are we supposed to be the mama, go to work and have a successful career, and be a good spouse?" I don't honestly have an answer for that, but I hear other moms answer "We can't. It's too much. We can do 2 at most at any given time." That, sadly, seems reasonable to me. Most days I have enough on my plate just trying to be a good mom, let alone the other roles (we can talk about the whole wife thing in another post). So when I cook and eat a hot breakfast and later successfully give my child a tear-free bath, I'm gonna celebrate the shi poop outta that. For today, that's enough. I am enough. And so are you.

Live Poop!

I am finally going live with this blog! I've been wanting to author a blog for years now, but never felt like I had a solid "theme" to write about. This past October I gave birth to a beautiful little girl after over 33 hours of unmedicated, natural labor, and affectionately began calling her Scoops. About a month later, the idea for Scoops of Poops was born.

I know some of you out there are thinking "WTF??" and I totally get it. A blog about poop? Ew! Unless you're a mom. If you're a mom, you understand that poop happens. Like, all the time. Literally and figuratively, in far more varied and interesting ways than it ever did before you became a mom. And if you're a new mom, like me, I hope you'll take comfort in (and maybe have a few laughs while) following my poopy, joyous, mistake-ridden journey into new motherhood. At Scoops of Poops, I hope to build a community of moms, a safe space where we can laugh at and learn from our common mistakes. Because motherhood, parenthood, is so messy, and so imperfect, and that's what makes it wonderful. So let's shatter the idea of perfection in parenthood. Let's create a new norm of acceptance, and support one another in that effort. Let's get poopy.

Welcome to Scoops of Poops!