And Away We Go!

So we brought him home and established that YES, this was going to be A LOT harder than raising a puppy. We were responsible for this mini human being. He depended on us for everything. A pretty amazing thing when I really sit back and think about it. And as those first few weeks went by we began to really fall hard for our little man. We started to realize, almost instinctively, what each cry and coo meant. We would respond and to our astonishment we were getting it right. We were really getting into a groove. We could do this! He pooped...no problem! 3am feeds...no problem! Sponge baths...no problem! But holy hell...could that circumcision ring and umbilical cord take any longer to fall off?? The longest 3-6 days of my life!

But we survived and naturally we were ready to up the ante so to speak. So now I guess the next logical thing to do was to take him "out". Out from the protective confines of our little nest. Whah?? "Can't everyone just come here?", I thought. Don't get me wrong, I was all up for taking him out, but what I wasn't ready for were those eyes from other mom's...silently judging. And some not so silently judging. I could just hear them now. "She doesn't have enough clothes on him, he'll freeze!"..."she has too many clothes on him, he'll over heat!"..."oh my God, she's actually using a pacifier?" And really, I don't know why I worried about being outside of my home because I had blatant veiled judgments made right inside my own four walls. I call them veiled because they were done in that aggravating semi-polite way that people do . And two minutes later you think to yourself, "did she really just effing say that to me?". And then your poor husband spends the rest of the night trying to calm you down and rationalize it to you.

Being a new mom for me was, and I guess still is, comparable to those first few brutal weeks of grade nine. You try to be an individual but it's still so tempting to get caught up in what the others think and then you instinctively find yourself conforming to one group or another. For me it was the "indie kids". We ate lunch in the hallway. Wore our Chucks with our uniform. And scoffed at some of the other groups for being predictable and boring. So you can see how this has had some impact on my preferences in life and motherhood in particular.

I can be very deceptive though. From my looks and my words you would think that I didn't give a crap one way or the other about what anyone thought of me, or my family, or my mothering skills. But what a lie that is. Looks as they say are very deceiving. I too so easily worry myself sick about what others think. Thankfully, with the help of my husband, who never lets that silly stuff get to him, and also with the help of this blog, I am beginning to truly be comfortable in my motherhood skin.

I don't know if it's my generation or just the alpha-mom syndrome in general, but gosh can women and other mom's ever be harsh on one another. I suppose it's ingrained in us somewhere that we need to compete and be the best we can possibly be. Man is this ever the case when it comes to motherhood. But why is it that this subject seems to make other mom's feel entitled to ram their opinions down your throat? I mean I don't see people getting so passionate over the way their grass is growing? Or how much sugar you put in your coffee? But yes, this is me going on a tangent again. But oh so cathartic! Ahhhhh...much better.

Where was I? Ah, yes. So we buckled down and went out. First out in the stroller down the block. Then around the neighbourhood. Before I knew it I was tackling the mall. Oh the dreaded first mall outing. The brutal stares I got in the parking lot when passers by saw me struggling to figure out how to unfold the damn stroller. "I knew I should have practiced more!!", I thought as beads of sweat lined my brow. Not to mention I had packed for what looked like a weekend getaway but would only be a max of two hours at the mall. I remember going out with a friend and her 10-month-old at the time and watching in aw as she fed her son with such precision and then later seeing her whip off his dirty diaper and have a new one on in what had to be 60 seconds flat. I thought to myself, "what the hell am I doing wrong?" "Why am I so slow and awkward at this Mommy stuff?" But God what a difference a couple months make.

Even today when I was out with him I almost had to pinch myself. Sometimes I still can't believe I'm a Mom and how natural and effortless it feels now. And how I just know exactly what he's thinking and feeling and needing all the time. And so this to shall pass as they say. That phrase bothered me at one time when people would use it to ease my troubles. But how much sense it makes now. What a difference a day makes added with some time, maturity, and a little perspective.