Mindful Mother's Day

I had such fun writing Mindful Mama's Mother's Day Gift Guide. Yes, every gift I not-so-secretly covet, but that's okay, right?

Thanks mamas

In case I haven't said it before, I love teaching prenatal yoga. Tonight I taught a class with a 40-weeker, and she was absolutely glowing, and I found it hard to not want to chat with her the entire time about birth, babies, and Mother's Day. Anyway, I feel privileged to be a part of this journey for so many women. Really- it is a privilege. (And, in a very strange way it makes me want to be pregnant all over again, right now, but I'm not ready. Think we should have at least one full-time wage earner in the house before baby number two arrives.) Just wanted to thank all of the mamas that have shared their journey of mamahood with me...

Letter Month 13

Dear Sena,

For starters, I'm sorry that I gave you such a bad haircut. I have to say, I had very good intentions, but I was very nervous about poking you in the eyes, which is why your bangs are about two inches above your eyebrows.





The past month, as usual, has been an adventure, but the wildest part is that all of a sudden you're not as much of a baby anymore. You understand everything it seems. I'll ask you a question, and you'll nod your head: you want me to read you a book? (yes), you want cheese? (yes), you want water? (ALWAYS, yes, more on this later) I know, eventually you'll say no to everything so I should enjoy the yes's while I have them.





Water- I'm not sure if you're running marathons in your sleep or what, but you'll drink close to two full cups of water after you wake up- and this is after nursing. And, you gulp it down like I've been depriving you of water for days. We finally figured out how to get you to drink milk. It has to be in a different kind of cup. (Who knew you'd care?) So milk goes in a straw. Water in a sippy. Duh, mom.

Speaking of sleeping. Just this past week you've figured out how to move in your sleep. At first you were pretty distraught waking up on your belly, facing the wrong direction. Now, we've caught you totally zonked out on your belly with your arms out to the sides. You're still a bit upset, however, when you somehow make your way to seated. I came in on your nap the other day and you were sitting up, your hair was totally matted to one side, your face was red, and you had this look on your face like, "how the hell did I get here? And, how do I get down??" Sorry love.

We went to a playgroup on Friday- three boys and you. You sat for nearly 90-minutes totally engrossed in the toys, while the boys climbed all over the place. It was hilarious. You were totally engrossed in stacking and building, only waving and saying "hey" every once in a while, or watching the boys as they came a bit too close. (Don't worry, they always backed off.)

Speaking of building. You love puzzles and stacking and organizing things. In fact, grandma has you sorting mail when you go to her house. She says, "maybe she'll be a post office sorter," I say- nah, she's just like her mom. She feels better when things are sorted in piles. Even if they're not put away. Just take a look at my desk and you'll see exactly where you got this from. Look at papa's desk and you'll see you certainly didn't get it from him!

You're still not walking completely on your own. I'm trying to let go and let you fall. But, I still can't really do it. Maybe if we lived in a bouncy house I'd be able to, but in the meantime, you'll be holding mama's fingers for a little while longer.. and that's okay.

love,
mama

P.S. Cash was feeling a little neglected, so this is for him.

Mindful Mama

Yesterday, was the official launch of Mindful Mama, a new media and social networking site that I'm incredibly proud to be a part of. (Thanks Deirdre!) For the initial launch, I contributed a handful of articles on everything from Creating a Green Nursery to The School Garden Movement. (P.S. That's Danny Zamudio in the picture!)

What I really love about MM is that it doesn't divide mothers into camps—the breastfeeding vs. bottlefeeding, co-sleeping vs. crib-sleeping camps that so many other magazines and sites and forums do. After going through all of the breastfeeding troubles that I had in the beginning (but, we're still breastfeeding-hooray!), the last thing I want to do is play any sort of role in making another woman feel as badly as I did. I felt completely worthless, and much of the emotions I went through I believe were caused (albeit indirectly) by the push-pull I was feeling from the media. And even from other mothers. I remember trying to do research on what to do, and finding nothing. NOTHING.

I'm so thankful to be a part of an organization, of a group of like-minded women, who want to encourage mamas to do their best. To make educated decisions. And, ultimately to live mindfully.

Check out the site- pass it on to others!

Welcome to a New World

I feel like I should have been handed a pamphlet of information sometime over the past week. "How to Cope with a Child Who Has Learned to Move—Everywhere." Or, "How to Get Anything Done while Chasing Your Child Around,"or, even better, "How to Teach Your Child to Walk without Killing Yourself."

For those of you who I don't speak to on a regular basis, you might have missed the bulletin: Sena didn't crawl. She went straight from lying down to wanting to walk, never really "getting" how you get from lying down to standing (without mama or papa's help). Well, over the last month she's been mastering her moves, and now army crawls throughout the house (yes, still not "crawling") and pulls up on EVERYTHING. Today she tried to pull up on the front door by grabbing the door stopper. She didn't get very far.

It isn't that I don't want her to move, walk, or crawl. It's that I don't want her to fall. I find myself holding my breath every time she takes an adventurous step. Here's a mental picture for you: She has a twinkle in her eye, is full of smiles, and looks oh-so proud; I look like I'm about to lose my lunch, crouched over in a totally unnatural position so that I'm able to swoop in and save her if she's about to tumble. I know, I know. Everyone says I need to "let her fall." But, I can't. We have wood floors. She's my baby. What can I say. So, in the meantime, I'll spend my days following her around the house ready to break her fall. I have a feeling I'll probably be doing this the rest of my life—and eventually she'll tell me to stop. (When she's on her first date, perhaps?!)

On another, more amusing, note.... Sena pooped in the toilet last night. Okay, for all of you that do not have children, feel free to stop reading now. For those of you that do... She's only 13 months old! Last night I was giving her a bath and some, er bubbles began to form in the tub- just behind her cute little tush. After our little "incident" in the bathtub a few weeks back, I was quick to get her out of the tub, but wasn't really sure what to do with her after I got her out. Poor thing was naked, wet, and wanting to poop and I was just dangling her above the water. Anyway, I set her on the toilet thinking, "what the heck." She looked at me, sat there for a few seconds, and then did it!!!!!!

Letter Month 12

Dear Sena,
A year ago, at this time on March 23rd, I was bouncing on a ball in the living room, beginning to feel the pains of contractions. Grandma Sheree & Grandpa Thomas were here. Papa was wondering what to do. And, I was wondering—is this it? Is she on her way?

I can't believe a year has passed. Your birth still is a vivid memory. I can see papa's face as he watched me breathe through contractions. I can see Cash and Kona as they paced the house, wondering why I was up in the middle of the night—and moaning. I remember Carrie, the doula, arriving at 3 a.m. to your father doing laundry and your mother curled up on the bed. I remember when she said my contractions needed to be closer together, and thinking, "she's got to be kidding." I remember driving to the hospital and feeling pains, yet, feeling ecstatic that the next time I got in a car, I'd have you. I remember arriving at the hospital and being so pissed off that they wanted me to fill out paperwork, like I wasn't busy with something. I remember your papa being the strongest man in the world that day. He held my hand, breathed with me, got in the tub, rubbed my back, and never wavered from his encouragement. I remember feeling so very loved and supported. I also remember thinking that I might be in labor the rest of my life.

I remember the glazed look on your papa's eyes as he handed you to me, and feeling that my heart had stopped and started again, only stronger. I remember feeling overwhelmed and totally unprepared as we embarked on this new journey together. Everyone tells you that becoming a mother is the hardest, and most rewarding thing you'll ever do, but no matter how many people tell you, or who it is that tells you this, you don't understand it until you have your child in your arms. Totally vulnerable, totally dependent, and suddenly you get it. I'm mama. This is everything.

As many a mother knows, the days can be long, but the time still flies by. A year ago, you knew us because you knew our voices. Now, you know that we're here for you. You know to reach for us if you feel scared. You know to yell at us if you're mad. You know we'll try our best to fix things. You've brought so much joy to your papa and me. Joy replete with poopy diapers, late nights, bruises, and more. Joy filled with smiles, laughter, and firsts. I know the next year promises to be another year full of steps, words, and personality. I can't wait. Or, maybe I can. If the first year is any indication of how quickly time passes, I'm happy to stop the clock for awhile.

I love you,
love,
mama

A year ago..


And, a year later..

Attitude..

This girl's certainly not afraid of showing her emotions!