Mother Like Mine

For the first time since I can remember, I am up with the sun by choice. Not because I'm needed by Finn, or to get ready for work. I'm up because today, my heart is heavy.

Today is Sunday, May 11, 2014 - Mothers' Day.

Today is my first Mothers' Day where I have my precious son to hold in my arms. I'm working really hard to be positive and to see the good in my own motherhood and to celebrate how truly blessed I am, but it's hard when it's simultaneously my first Mothers' Day without my own mama.

It's the first Mothers' Day where instead of taking flowers to her at her house, I'll take them to her grave. The first time I won't buy a silly card for her because she can no longer read it. The first time I have to wonder where she is and does she know how much she's missed and loved? The first time I can't hug my mama on MOTHERS' DAY. Now that just doesn't seem fair.

When I start to feel envious of those who still have their moms (and let's be honest - it's frequent, as today everyone has a picture or post about their moms), I try to remember that none of them are MY mom. None of them help lead my girl scout troop, or created scavenger hunts for holidays. No one else let me sneak frozen Christmas cookies out of the freezer, or let me sit in their bathroom to talk when I needed advice. No one else made it to all of my school plays, concerts, parent-teacher conferences, or cleaned my puke off the stairs. No one sneaked my Facebook pictures offline so she could have a copy. No one else made sure that three kids were in three different locations so they could each participate in the extracurricular they wanted to. No one else sacrificed their time for ME.

Then, there's the fact that this year, I'm also a mom. THE mom to my sweet red-headed firecracker.

I get to change his diapers, get up in the middle of the night when he needs me, and listen to him cry when his teeth are hurting him. But that's just the start. I get to hold his hand as he stumbles through his first steps, comfort him when he's just face planted, make him giggle by tickling his shoulders. I'm the one that he clings to when the cows at the farm scare him. I'm the one that gets to see the grin on his face every morning when I pick him up out of his crib. I see the thrill in everything he points at, whether it's a fan, a car, or the dogs (and if I don't I'm really good at feigning it). And I'm the one he curls into at night when I rock him to sleep.

Sometimes being a mom is tough, but I'm tougher.

Earlier this week, I was tickling Finn on the floor. His knees were drawn up to his chest and his four teeth were showing as he was laughing, and I remember thinking if I love this kid any more, my heart may literally explode in my chest. Being a mom is something I'm still learning how to be, but I do know it's a love like I've never known.

Today, when it comes to my own mom I have no choice but to be reflective. I will cry today. I will be sad. But I will also cherish the memories that I have of her and be thankful that SHE was my mom. I will also remember the new-ish fact that I, too, am a mom. I am Finn's mom, and there's so much beauty in that to celebrate.

She Who is Brave is Free

God saw she was getting tired

And a cure was not to be,

So He put His arms around her

And whispered, “Come with Me.”

With tearful eyes we watched her suffer

And saw her fade away,

Although we loved her dearly

We could not make her stay.

A golden heart stopped beating

Hard working hands to rest,

God broke our hearts to prove to us

He only takes the best.

Hey Mama,

It's been a little over a week since you left us. I knew I was going to be sad when you passed away, but what I wasn't expecting was this hole I feel in my chest - this weight that doesn't seem to go away. I am constantly cycling through different emotions and I'm having a difficult time coping.

I'm angry. I'm angry at God for thinking this was the best plan. That He felt it was best to take away the promise of your life, to take a mother away from Jake, Sarah and me, to take Dad's wife and Finn's grammy. How could that be the best plan? How could leaving so many people heartbroken in your absence be what is best for you? For us? In the last few weeks you kept telling me, "Faith one way or the other." And, believe me, I'm trying really hard to have faith, but it's hard. I am also angry at your stupid doctor who missed the fact that you had cancer in your brain, even when you told him. I don't know what to do with my anger against him but it's there.

Someone recently told me that knowing your cancer was terminal would give me a chance to live without regret. I looked at that piece of information as sort of a silver lining as that is what it certainly seemed like at the time... I told you I love you every time I left and I had the opportunity to reiterate to you how proud I was of your courage and strength. And I would tell people, "You know, I get a chance to tell her how I feel before it's too late." So yeah, I thought I was living without regret. Turns out I was wrong. So incredibly wrong.

What I always come back to were those Saturday mornings a few years back when you and Grandma would go to breakfast and then shopping for the day. You always invited me, but at the time, 7:30 am seemed like the most ungodly hour, and I frequently chose sleep over time I could have spent with you. I wonder now how that made you feel and I cry a little every time I think about it. I come back to all those petty arguments I had with you over stupid things, like cleaning my room or going through my junk mail. I am sad about all the missed opportunities to spend time with you, to hear your experiences, and I'm sad about all the times I said, "MOM. You've already told us that story a million times." What I would give to hear those same stories one more time.

I'm jealous of everyone who still has their moms around. Nathan and I ran some errands on Saturday and we stopped at Applebees for lunch. I swear, it must have been mother-daughter day there. I wish we could have lunch again. I'm jealous of Nathan whose mom is still here for him. I'm jealous of all the people who look at me or our family and try to sympathize, but most have no idea what this is like. Yeah, I'm insanely jealous of people who don't know what this sort of pain feels like.

I'm trying really hard to look at the positives, though. I know that's what you would have done, and it's probably what you're expecting us to do. You did a hell of a job raising our family to be strong, and we're certainly all trying to do that now. We have an amazing daddy, and I have a wonderful brother and sister in whom I find comfort. There was also never a question about how much you loved us. I know you would have gone to the ends of the Earth for each and every one of us. The question is, did you know I felt the same? Probably not, and that tears me up too.

The last time I really got to see you I was rolling you around the halls of Lexington. I had absolutely no idea that would be the last conversation I would have with you, but I will forever remember it and the promise I made to you. You told me you loved me. I told you that I loved you too, and you asked me to make sure Finn didn't grow up not knowing who you are. I was sort of taken aback that particular conversation was happening but I assured you that would never be the case. Mom, I will always stand by that promise. You may not be here with us physically, but Finn will always know who you are. He will be well aware of the most amazing grammy he never got to know.

We've looked at a million pictures since you died. I wish we could have looked at them together to talk about them - did you know you had the most incredible smile? Besides that, what was also evident in every picture was the amazing mother you were to us. You are the example of what moms should be, and I will strive every day to be that kind of mom to my kids, even though I'm sure I'll never live up to you.

I don't know if this hole I'm feeling will ever go away. I've been told that it won't but that I'll find a way to cope with it. Until then, I guess I'll have to deal with the thoughts I have of you. I think about you all the time. The other day I bought some birthday cake M&Ms and caught myself thinking that I needed to save some for you to try. You would have loved them. I think about you when I'm rocking Finn in the glider you bought us, since "My grandbaby needs to be rocked." Or when I see the wicked witch is going to be on "Once Upon a Time." You are everywhere I look. In the wind as it blows the coconut windchime hanging from my pergola, in the lights that flicker in my house, in the sunshine that warms my face...

Thank you, Mom, for always being the mother I needed, even when I wasn't the daughter you deserved. You were so strong, especially throughout your battle, but now you don't have to suffer anymore. I am proud of you, and I am proud to be YOUR daughter. I love ya always, and I'll forever carry you in my heart.

Love Always,

Angie

Seven.

Height and Weight: Ehhh. I don't know? We really don't check on his weight and height except for during his well checks. The next one isn't schedule until March, so until then I'm left to my own estimation (which, for the record, is terrible.) BUT, if I had to throw a number out there... let's go with 19 lbs. No clue about the height, but I can tell ya he's certainly not getting any smaller.

Accomplishments: Finn is officially a sitter. You can plop him down anywhere and he'll SIT there. He's still a teensy bit wobbly, but he's got to start somewhere. He's also working SO HARD on crawling. He can get himself on all fours and then starts to rock. I know it's only a matter of days before he's truly mobile.

Sleep Habits: Sigh. Still fairly predictable but a few bad nights have been thrown in for good fun. He goes down between 7-8, and is up for the day between 7-8. The issues have been surfacing in the middle of the night. Some nights he wakes and starts to play for an hour or so. Others, he wakes seeking attention. Hoping it's just a phase that passes soon.


What's in His Belly: So much more than at six months. Finn has made his love for fruits well known. He also is not a fan of green vegetables. Or carrots. Really, the only veggie he's currently gettin' down with is sweet potato. And isn't that technically a root? He's loving pears, prunes (GROSS), bananas, sweet potatoes, and oatmeal. Not impressed with peas, green beans, carrots, zucchini. We're workin' on it.

Best Moments:
Without a doubt, Christmas. How much fun is Christmas with a seven month old? Like, a lot. Finn was such a trooper throughout both Christmas Eve and Christmas (naps? What naps?). In typical baby fashion, he showed way more interest in wrapping and tissue paper than any of the gifts he received. Our living room now looks like Toys 'R Us headquarters. What do we do with all of it?

Also, thought  he was sleeping, when the clock struck midnight on New Year's Eve, I quickly ran up and looked at the best thing that happened to me this year. Awww. That one gave you a cavity, didn't it?

Worst Moments:
As a mother, I could easily have put one of this month's "worst' moment in the best category, but I don't wish to be cruel. On December 21, Nathan, Sarah and I took Finn to see Santa at Bass Pro Shops. We got there at 5:00, and they were giving out tickets for the 8:30 slot, which, if you're keeping up, is way past the bedtime of the Finn. Fortunately, we must have had the first-time-parents-what-the-hell-is-going-on-here look about us, because the lady at the counter slipped us a 6:30 ticket instead. She was an angel. Waiting in line was easy. Finn smiled at anybody who wanted to look his way. He did this up until the minute I put him in St. Nick's lap. That kid took one look at Santa and promptly burst into sobs. Click, click. I scoop him up after the picture and whaddya know. He's all smiles again. Whatever. At least it makes for a good picture.

Ok, and for the real worst moment award. I had put Finn down for a nap one afternoon, and as he sometimes does, he was playing around in his crib. I didn't have the monitor with me because I could hear up the stairs. I heard Finn talking, and then I started hearing a whacking noise. It took me a minute to realize that there was nothing in his crib that could be making that noise, so I walked up the stairs and found that Finn had somehow maneuvered the cord from the monitor camera into the crib with him and was flinging it all around. He was beyond thrilled with himself. Don't worry. We fixed that immediately.

Half a Dozen Months

Little dude is six months old. Seriously, what?

Height and Weight: 18 lbs 8 oz, and 26 5/8 inches. He is exactly double his birth weight.

Accomplishments:
He has perfected the roll both ways. This includes during attempted diaper and outfit changes. He's also officially out of our room and in his own crib, unswaddled! And he's working on sitting up on his own. He can tripod with his arms, and sit up for a moment or two before he topples over.

Sleep Habits: 
Going to bed between 7 and 8, and sleeping until 5-6, and on mornings when we don't have to be up it's bottle and back to bed until 8 or so. Please continue these sleep habits. Please.
Since we've taken the swaddle away, he's also become a belly sleeper. He sticks his butt up in the air and his face into the mattress. I am not kidding.

What's in His Belly:
Not avocado. See below.
For the most part, he is still taking  4-5 7-ounce bottles a day.


Best moments: 
Attempting to give Finn solids for the first time was a really interesting experience. We tried giving him some pieces of avocado, but it was a disaster in the most adorable way. First, he couldn't pick it up because it was slippery. Then, he decided he didn't like the way it tasted so he flung it everywhere and beat it into his high chair tray. I decided to mash some up and offer it to him on a spoon, and he started gagging before the spoon touched his lips. Really? Like, REALLY? Must you be that dramatic?

We're also going to include Halloween in this month, even though it technically occurred on his five month birthday. We called him, "Finn the Courageous," and we paraded him around trunk or treat at Nathan's family's church. Cutest lion there.

Worst moments:
The worst moment of the month goes to me! Because Finn has been working really hard at being able to sit up on his own, he has refused to lay nicely in his little infant bath hammocky thing. I was holding him upright by his shoulder during a bath one night, when he lunged for the rubber duck hanging out in the tub with him. He slipped out of my hands, smacked his forehead on the side of the tub, and fell face first into the water. He was slightly traumatized, but got over it quickly. Meanwhile, Nathan's yelling up the stairs demanding to know WHY I've dropped the baby.

It's seriously so hard to believe that Finn is already halfway to his first birthday. Time, please slow down.

Six Things I've Learned About Motherhood

I'm sure in a couple of my last posts I've touched on the fact that there are some things that no one tells you about motherhood. So either people didn't tell me what was coming my way, or I was incredibly blind, naive and just plain ignorant. It's probably a combination of everything, but the fact of the matter is that there are so many things that I feel like "been there, done that" mothers leave out when trying to prepare a new mom for life with baby. Probably because if they told you, you'd spend the rest of your pregnancy weeping. Just kidding.  I certainly heard the old, "sleep while you can!" and, "life is no longer about you" spiels, but in honor of the fact that I have (almost) made it to six months of motherhood, here are six things I've learned on my own about being a mom.

1. Having a baby is the equivalent to being on a different planet. It's an alternative universe. Sure, everything LOOKS the same, but it's not. One day you leave to go have a baby, and when you return you bring this scary, albeit adorable, roommate in with you. This new roommate is here to change things up, and you've got to figure him out. He runs the show now, and you have to wipe his butt. Sometimes he's not very considerate and will puke in your hair. Who does this guy think he is?

2. Baby sleep is elusive. It's like Bigfoot, or a unicorn. Every now and then, you are SURE you've seen it - let's shout it from the mountains because you're that confident - but then reality smacks you square across the face and you're left wondering what just happened. Seriously. What. Just. Happened. The whole notion of, "sleeping like a baby," is utter garbage. Most babies sleep terribly and, in Finn's case, it's pretty unpredictable and inconsistent. One night he's sleeping like a dream and the next he's waking up every 45 minutes. One day he'll nap for two hours and the next day 20 minutes. Seriously, what gives? Like right now, he's been rolling around in his crib for an hour. GO TO SLEEP. PLEASE.

3. There are moments when I don't like being a mom. Yep, I said it. These moments are rare, and have always taken place in my darkest moments as a mother (which coincidentally also occur in the darkest moments of the night and are usually related to revelation number 2). One night a couple of week's ago when Nathan was at work, Finn cried for an hour and a half at bedtime. Not little fussy cries, but straight ANGER. That little dude was pissed. And he wanted everyone within a five-mile radius to know. I tried everything I could think of to calm him down; all the recommended techniques - shushing, patting, heavy handing, white noise, swaddling, unswaddling, reswaddling, half-swaddling, crying along side him - and he just wailed. Finally, he fell asleep around 9 pm. Well, around 12:30 he woke up... and started crying again. For another 90 minutes. I was seriously about to lose it when I walked to the living room, sat down, and texted Nathan, "Ok, I don't want to be a mom anymore." Obviously, I was half-joking, but the reality is that being a mom is HARD sometimes, and sleep-deprivation makes you crazy. After all, there's a reason why it's used as a torture technique. 

Now, just to clarify, I love Finn, and I love being his mother. When I say there are fleeting moments when I don't want to be a mom anymore, it has nothing to do with him or the way I feel about him, and everything to do with the fact that sometimes the responsibilities of being a mom are overwhelming. Sometimes, you just want to escape to the old life and sleep when you want to, eat when you want to, buy things spontaneously, and go somewhere without it being as logistically planned-out as an escape from Alcatraz. And dammit, some days I just want to lay in bed and eat Cheetos and watched Snapped.

4. Everyone has got an opinion. Ok, this one I could have seen coming, but it is one of those things I started learning when we shared Finn's chosen name. I get that it's unique, but people will still give you a look, or drop the, "Oh, that's interesting. Is it a family name?" gem. Also, more recently, after discussing it with Finn's pediatrician, Nathan and I decided to hold off on introducing solids until Finn is six months. I fully understand that this is something that is from a new school of thought but as I mentioned, we discussed it with our pediatrician, and as first-time parents we heeded his advice. Still, everyone and their cousins want to know why Finn isn't eating steak yet, or licking icing off a cupcake. Or they joke about slipping him something when, "mommy isn't looking." You do that. I dare you.

5. Rocking a baby to sleep is easily the best part of my day. I have prohibited Nathan from this because I enjoy it so much. We put on our PJs, sometimes read a book, and I rock him while giving him his last bottle of the day and listening to lullabies. I try to put him down drowsy so he can learn how to put himself to sleep, but hearing his little sighs and seeing how he rolls into me makes me want to hold on to him forever. I know I will miss these days in two years when he's hitting me or throwing stuff at me. Or when he's bigger than me, which will be in about a month.

6. Being a part of a baby's firsts is absolutely amazing. Seeing Finn roll for the first time, or sit on his own, or even eat a piece of avocado for the first time, is incredible. I always knew how proud my mom was of me and my siblings for the most ridiculous things. Now, I totally get it. I want to cajole up the marching bands and fling sparkly confetti around the house every time Finn accomplishes something new. HOORAY! You put your feet in your mouth! You've put your own paci in?! YOU ARE A ROCK STAR! I am positive the list of ridiculous things I'm proud over is only going to grow. I'm going to be THAT mom, and I'm totally cool with it.

BONUS!

7. No one tells you how much you're going to talk about poop. Right? It's just poop! But, my GOD, there's so much to discuss! What did it look like? Did it happen today? Why hasn't he pooped in three days? Why is there SO MUCH POOP?! Dammit, it's up the back again. Annnnd he's still pooping... I feel like 75 percent on mine and Nathan's conversations these days revolve around poop. It's insane.

Obviously, I've learned a lot more about being a mom and what is means to be a parent. It's easily been the most challenging and rewarding experience. It simultaneously makes my heart burst with happiness and makes me want to drink an entire bottle of wine. BUT, I do love it, and I wouldn't trade that little critter for anything.

The End.

Tonight is the night that I've been dreading since May 29, the last time I really worked. (Ok, maybe that's not true. I did go in to work for eight days in August to get things straight in my classroom and meet my kiddos, but I hardly count that as work.) Tonight is the last night of my maternity leave. 

It's amazing the transformation that can take place in a person in a mere five months. Prior to having Finn, everyone asked me if I would be returning to work. My obvious answer at the time was, "Duh." I thought there was no way I would find fulfillment as a stay-at-home mom. Seriously, what do you do all day? I've worked since I was 15 and I genuinely like being productive (although I'm pretty lazy at home. I like to say that I'm so productive at work that I can be a little lazy on my own time. But I digress).

Then, Finn was born. The first couple of weeks home with him I would watch from the window in despair as Nathan got to leave the house every day to go to his job. He got to escape the madness that is Newborn 101. He left me home alone with this tiny human who required so much of me, and I had no idea how to meet all of his needs. I (briefly) thought about cutting my leave short and heading back full time when summer ended. I was not cut out to stay at home with a BABY.

But as the hormones began to level out (seriously, NO ONE tells you about this part, but it plays into everything!), I realized that Finn just needed four basic things. He needed to be fed. He needed to take a lot of naps. He needed to have his diaper changed. I could do these, but he still sometimes cried. In the early days when Finn would cry, I would literally say to him, "What do you want? Tell me!" I thought my motherly instincts were comparable to a rock - aka pretty much nonexistent. Then one day, I picked him up and I rubbed his back, and I shushed quietly in his ear. You know what? He was quiet. He was content. That's when I realized the fourth thing he needed from me. He needed to be loved. Since then, this has been the easiest need for me to meet. I love him with every fiber of my being, every second of every day.

Yep. Even this face is easy to love.

Since my mom-instincts kicked into high gear, I found that Finn and I had found our groove; created our own routines. From the morning ritual of eating breakfast and playing and reading a story, to the afternoon nap on mama, to the evening bedtime regime, our days were predictable. Our days were ours. Me and Finn. Finn and me. We were a team. A package deal!

Five months ago, I thought being a stay-at-home mom would be an unsatisfactory way for me to live. Now, I fully understand what a stay-at-home mom does all day every day. She mothers her child. She teaches, she learns, she loves. She spends hours making funny faces and noises, doing what it takes to make her baby smile or laugh. She cheers him on when he learns new tasks, be it finding his hands and feet or rolling over for the first time. She takes pride in those small accomplishments. Occasionally when she's feeling motivated she'll do the dishes or laundry or cook some dinner. 

Ask me now how I feel about going back to work, and I'm a bird singing a different tune. What I once would have done anything to get out (staying home with a baby) of is now one of my greatest joys in life. Sadly, it's come to an end.

So, tomorrow begins the next chapter of life in the House of Harris. The chapter where I'm a full-time working mom, and Finn spends more waking hours at a sitter's than he does with me (so sad, right?). I know this is just an adjustment, and we'll make new routines. But man if I won't miss the old ones.

Month Four

Finn is officially a third of a year old. Four months have passed since I gave birth. That has to be one of the hardest facts for me to believe, and it seems more absurd with each passing day.

Currently at four months, Finn weighs 15 pounds, 13 ounces, and is 25ish inches long. He's still in the 75th percentile for everything, including head circumference (which is 17 inches). He got his next round of vaccines at his four month appointment, and while I still made Nathan hold him, I was at least able to stand next to them this time. Oh, and I didn't cry, but Finn sure did. Unlike his two month vaccinations, this time we saw a spike in his temperature. He was still happy and content, but that kid was radiating heat like a furnace in January. Fortunately, it only lasted 24 hours and he got plenty of extra snuggles between mom, dad, and grandma.

Also at four months, Finn is rolling from tummy to back, but only when he feels like it. He'll have days when he'll roll and roll and roll, and then go weeks without doing it again.  I've caught it on video, but it's so sporadic that Nathan is convinced I tied fishing line to him and pull him over myself. Ha! He's also a split second away from rolling back to belly. He'll make it to his side, lay there for a few minutes, and then flop back onto his back. He'll get there eventually, I'm sure on his own terms.

He has found his hands and his feet, and everything ends up in his mouth - from toys, to blankets, to fingers. Anything he can wrap his slimy little fingers around is going to his mouth - or at least in that direction. He's still working on accuracy.

He coos, he shrieks, he LAUGHS. He still cries, but mostly when it's bedtime and he thinks he should be able to stay up with us big kids. Finn certainly enjoys listening to his voice, and it's been entertaining watching him try to figure out how it works and what he can do with it. Sometimes it's as though he's trying his hardest to form words. He'll sit with his little moth open and move his lips. Ultimately, a grunt or gurgle comes out, but I'm looking forward to the day when a real word is formed.

At four months, Finn is still a genuinely happy dude. And he is still ultimately the best thing I've ever done.