Just one year

Hello, Domestic Bliss (aka, the "big" announcement)

This morning I made a huge change in my life, effectually ending a lifestyle of a dozen years. It might sound like I'm being melodramatic, but in absolute truth, this is HUGE for me.

I quit my job. I haven't NOT worked since my college graduation, and of course, I was working long before then, from the age of 17 (and even before that, I filled up summers and weekends with babysitting). But I have worked professionally for 12 years, with only a brief interim here and there taken between finishing employment somewhere and beginning somewhere else.

Today marks the end of that. I've quit a job with absolutely no intention to seek employment anywhere else for quite some time -- if ever again. It is a fulfillment of a lifelong dream to become a full-time stay-at-home mom to my kids, in addition to being a full-time wife and homemaker. However, it is not without fear and trepidation that I enter this stage! First, there's the obvious: the end of my paycheck. And I was awfully proud of that paycheck -- I worked HARD to get to this place in my career and it's not easy to walk away! With that also comes an absolute dependence on my husband, and thank God he is who he is (and not the person I used to be married to; that is not a gripe, it is sincere gratitude) because he takes his obligations toward his family very seriously and even worries about it more than I'd like for him to.

Second, and most importantly, this is unchartered territory for me. I mean, give me a nastily written journal article and I can make it shine like the top of the Chrysler building. I'm used to this, used to emails and meetings and schedules and editing, editing, editing. Yes, I've done it in my pajamas for the last 2 years, but I've learned that the world of working is the same no matter where you log in (and in what state of dress!). Because of this responsibility, though, other things in my life will get the shaft and I often don't feel guilty about it. So the dusting didn't get done -- oh well, I worked 40 hours this week! With the job, though, go the excuses. And that's what I'm afraid of...I almost feel that if I don't present Marty with a perfectly clean house and perfectly behaved children and perfectly coiffed hair at the end of the day that I should get fired!

However, this is not the attitude with which I want to enter this new period of life. I want to cast off the perfectionist tendencies and ridiculous self-expectations and truly embrace this as the greatest adventure yet. I want to wear aprons! I want to explore the produce section and not stick to bagged lettuce and bunches of bananas! I want to cook with things like couscous! I want to wear mascara every day! I want to take Will to the puppet show at the library! I want to know where to find the bandaids in my house! I want to sing A-B-C's with Will while changing Lucy's diaper -- and LOVE every second of it! I want to start a weekend with clothes in drawers, not in piles on the floor! And yes -- I want to get the darn dusting done. Maybe even while wearing one of my aprons, and hey -- let's go crazy -- maybe even pearls!

So hello, new life. Hello, Domestic Bliss. I'm ready for you!

musings on Mother's Day

As you read the following list, please know that before my mommyhood days, I was a champion sleeper, shopper, and girlie-girl extraordinaire. I never left the house without sporting a great outfit, complete with accessories, and never saw another person without the perfect makeup, down to matching lipstick. Slush money meant trips to Macy's or TJ's, always a trip to the Starbucks drive-thru, and lots of trips to restaurants to hang with girlfriends. Free time meant shopping, reading, watching movies, and oh yes, sleeping. In my current mommyhood days, though...

• I have watched the sun come up for the last two mornings in a row, rocking my son who is ill and irritated and fussy. And that's after being up at midnight and 3 a.m., too.
• The minute I get settled in bed with my enormous pregnant belly balanced just-so on a pillow and my back in the least-painful position, my daughter starts kicking me like she's practicing some new self-defense techniques and sleep eludes me.
• My living room is never clean. There are always toys on the floor where Will drags them to and fro in his crawling adventures. If only I could bend myself down to pick them up without sending my lower back into spasms!
• I have stepped on many a toy in the middle of the night and had to squelch the urge to utter an "ouch!" because I'm carrying a (finally) sleeping baby back to his crib.
• I have had the thought many times in the past few days to be thankful that my kid is not a projectile vomiter. When he spews, at least he does so semi-neatly, right in front of him or even on the bib when we're really lucky.
• Laundry time for me means going through baby clothes with my enormous orange can of Shout, spraying various pureed food stains, spit-up and puke, and my favorites, the accidents that sometimes happen during diaper changes.
• I sometimes forget to eat, I practically live in my pajamas, and my personal bathing routine is completely random, but my son always eats on schedule, is always as clean as I can keep him, and he wears the cutest clothes I can find for him.
• When I go to TJ Maxx or Target, I no longer immediately head for my-size clothes. I go straight to the 18-months' boy clothes or the 0-9 months' girl clothes.
• I make coffee in the mornings but sometimes don't get to it until it's gone cold. I drink it anyway.
• I sit down to watch a show maybe once or twice a week. But I can sing you the themes to "Dinosaur Train," "WonderPets," and "Go, Diego, Go."
• I get so excited thinking about planning Will's first birthday party and all the birthday parties for our kids in the future. I spent my last birthday in my bed, in the miserable first trimester of pregnancy, trying to keep down a popsicle.
• Marty and I spent the first 9 months of our relationship long-distance dating, and all we did was talk, talk, talk on the phone. Now our conversations often consist of our son's diaper activities and who gave the last dose of Tylenol and when. Then exhausted silence follows. When we were alone last weekend, we couldn't shut up, we were so geeked to be able to TALK!
• I used to take time off from work to go on vacations. Now I take PTO in hourly increments here and there, to cover well-baby appointments, sick-baby appointments, prenatal appointments, ultrasound appointments, etc.
• When planning our grocery budget and list, I no longer plan for a couple nice filets or a bunch of tulips (although I must confess, those occasionally come home with me). Instead I add up how many dollars we need for diapers, wipes, formula, boxes of cereal, tubs of baby food, and so on. And it's a LOT of dollars!

I could go on, listing a million more examples of how my life has radically changed since becoming a mother. Some of the changes are great fun (raspberry-type kisses on my cheek, my son's delighted face to see me in the mornings), and of course, some are not so fun (the 5-ish hours of sleep I average per night).

But today is the first time in my life I get to celebrate being a mother on Mother's Day. There is nothing like it in the world, and no amount of sleep or great clothes or free time could ever compare to it. I wouldn't go back to my former life for anything.

Thank you, Father, for my babies. May I always be grateful, even in the hardest moments of mommyhood!

A photo of a first

Will clapped for the first time on March 19 at 8 1/2 months old. He was playing with his nanny Jessie and they were listening to Dora singing a song, and he was so delighted he finally got the knack of putting those little hands together!

I love our new Rebel! I highly recommend making a solid investment in a good camera. I have zero photography skills, yet was able to capture a precious moment with great lighting on his face.

Anatomy of a baby's first haircut

It's tradition in my family that little ones don't get their first haircuts until their first birthdays, but we had to break with tradition in Will's case. He was born with so much hair, and even after the normal balding phase around 3-4 months, he kept most of it and then grew even more hair. It was getting quite long and he was looking rather wild, so when my parents were down for a visit a couple weekends ago, Nana gave Puppy his first haircut!

"Uh, did I do something wrong?"

"Mommy, what's Nana doing back there?"

"I don't think I like the sound of those scissors!"

"As long as you're at it, Nana, I'm a bit shaggy on the left side..."

Almost done!

Assisting Nana by holding the comb

"I know it. I'm a stud."