The Bell Tolls for Me

How can something so beautiful, so sweet, so absolutely yummy want to kill me so badly? That's the only explanation I can come up with. Sweetie Pie wants me dead.

For starters there's the sleep thing. Is it fair to call it a sleep thing when there's no sleep involved? Basically, I spend the entire night nursing Sweetie with tiny, short nap breaks. As a newborn, she slept in two hour blocks. Now that she's almost five months old she sleeps in forty-five minute to one hour blocks. I'm her favorite pacifier. I'm her only pacifier.

Then there's the eating thing. I've met my picky eaters before but Miss Pie takes the prize. Not only is she picky about what she eats (breastmilk, please) but she will only take it in its original form. No bottles for her, thank you! Not from her father, not from her grandparents, not from her teachers.

Which brings us to the final thing: school (which is what we call day care in our house). Sweetie Pie isn't a fan. The first day I had to come feed her midday. The second day she plodded through and today, the third day, I got a call at 10:30 a.m. that I needed to come in because she wouldn't stop crying. I went in and held her and--poof!--she stopped crying. I put her down to play with her and waaaaaa. Beet red waaaaaaa. Tears streaming down face waaaaaaa. Pick her back up. She's fine. After about ten rounds of this fun game, I gave up and took her home. Which would be fine if I didn't have three work deadlines looming ahead. We went back in the afternoon to hang out and help acclimate her. And guess what? She played her little game again. "Coo, coo, coo!" Mommy thinks she's doing okay, and sets her down to play. "Waaaaaaaaaa!" Up she goes. "Coo, coo, coo!"

The end result of this? An overly tired, sore nippled, work-stressed mom who teeters on the edge of oblivion. Right now, I'm blogging from bed as she sleeps next to me (because why would you sleep on your own when you can sleep touching Mom?) and she's so beautiful and peaceful and sweet. The sad thing is I know how much I'm going to miss all this in a few years. In the meantime, I'll just continue my role as zombie mom until I can wrangle up two hours of sleep in a row. Word to the wise: Stay out of my way. I'm not the most pleasant person around right now

Activity #287: Get your kid an email address

There's been some talk in the blogosphere this week about babies born with URLs already reserved for them. That's fine and all, but there's a reason to get your pre-reading child online that's not just about reserving his or her Internet real estate. If you sign your kid up for an email address, you can send messages to his or her future self.

All those things that you aren't writing in the baby book are candidates for an email to your child's future inbox.

Dear Julian, today you threw a tantrum like none other I have seen. It was impressive.
Dear Julian, today you said "Mama" in a way that told me you knew exactly how to use that word.
Dear Julian, I'm on my first business trip away from you, and frankly it's not half-bad.

Let's face it, handwriting in baby books is old school. Screen-based communication is what our kids are going to expect. This is how their lives will be documented.

If you are commited to the paper-based method, you can check baby's inbox from time to time and print your messages out. Or, just wait. When these guys are old enough to open their inbox, they can read all the notes you wanted to send them when they were too young to understand. And hopefully, they won't see your name in the From line and click "This is spam."

Just Like Us!

My husband sent me this link. I thought it was, as my buddy from New York would say, "Intra-sting." Looks like the boys aren't so different after all...except for that cool ability to pee standing up...

Mirror, Mirror on TV

Have you ever noticed that women great each other like this... "Wow! You look great! Have you lost weight?" Or some women think that comments like this are compliments, "Oh my gosh, you look positively anorexic. What have you been doing?" Has the media really brainwashed all women of the world into thinking that we aren't beautiful unless our bones are showing?

Our daughters and sons need us to break this chain of negative images. We are all strong and beautiful. The size of our jeans and the cost of our clothes is not what is important. Our values, drive, and outlook on life are important. Our self-respect and respect for others will make us happy and successful.

I have been fighting self esteem battles my entire life. I hate waking up every day and feeling that I am not good enough, not pretty enough, and not rich enough. Some of these negative feelings stem from the onslaught of images from the media making us all feel plain and boring. Some of it comes from my childhood and seeing women all around me obsessed with weight, looking "average", and their lack of money.

With all of this said, and as hard as I try, I cannot seem to stop comparing myself to others. Why??? I've been trying to build my self esteem for years. But it still seems to eat me alive. Every day I wake up tell myself that I am beautiful, strong, and have it all. I mean, I have the most incredible husband and child. My family is supportive and there when I need them. And the friends I've made as an adult are the greatest people on earth. If you were to meet me you would never in a million years suspect that I am fighting inner demons just standing there talking to you. I am friendly and seem confident on the outside. But in mind I am scared and weak and afraid that you won't enjoy our conversation and will think I'm an idiot. What will it take for me to feel truly proud of myself. Don't get me wrong - I do feel proud many times - maybe even once each day. But it does fade, and then I must fight the negative feelings in order to feel the thrill of a beautiful day once more.

I have vowed to never, ever, ever mention weight or weight loss or body types in front of my daughter. I will celebrate her accomplishments and her failures. I will support all of her choices. If we live honest, healthy, nutitious, active lifestyles our daughters and sons will mimic our actions. They won't have to worry about their "looks" because they will be fulfilled in so many other ways.

I'm not exactly sure how I will accomplish these goals. But I do know this...that my daughter will not inherit my low self esteem. She will feel so much love and security and joy from her father and me that she will never doubt herself.

If this is the one thing in my life that I can accomplish it will make me happier than anything in the world. It is the one special gift that I will gladly give her.

Let's break all the mirrors and fill our children's worlds with sunshine and windows instead.