A DAY IN THE LIFE

Warning, long post ahead!
But this is a blog about my life, so.

I had the day off of work today, and I resolved to use it as a catch-up, errand-running, baby-lovin' kind of day.  Spoiler alert, I only got about half-way through my to-do list, but it was a grand day nonetheless. I'm going to do this thing here where I detail and document our schedule today and give you a peek into a day in the life of a mama bear and her baby bear.

My day usually starts around 6AM every morning (including weekends...) but Sloane let me sleep until 7:00 AM, bless her soul.

7:00 AM: Good morning Sloane! Nurse baby, play with baby

8:00 AM: Breakfast. Tofu and avocado for baby. Sauteed vegetables and a fried egg for mama.

8:30 AM: Play time

9:00 AM: Nurse baby, baby goes down for a nap

9:30 AM:  Catch up on e-mails and skim headlines with a cup of coffee. I also had a piece of a lemon pie I made last night - I'll tell you more about that later.




10:00 AM: Prepare food for Sloane. I love this Babycook machine.

Also, wash dishes, fold laundry, get diaper bag and self ready to go out.

10:45 AM: Wake Sloane, change diaper, head out!

11:00 AM: Visit a thrift store. I visited Class and Trash for the first time and it kept our eyeballs fully occupied. Sloane was in awe.

12:15 PM: Return home, nurse baby.

12:30 PM: Lunch.  Sweet potato sticks and peas for baby,  chicken sweet potato curry (leftovers from dinner lat night) for mama.

1:30 PM: Clean baby up, playtime in the nursey

2:15PM: Outside time

2:30 PM: Wash dishes while Sloane whined at me from her exersaucer. She has been less and less happy about being confined in there. After I finished the dishes, we went back up to the nursery to play.

3:00 PM: Nurse baby, then baby goes down for her afternoon nap.

3:30 PM: More laundry, cleaning, some work.

5:00 PM: Baby wakes

5:30 PM: Papa comes home!

5:45 PM: Nurse baby.

6:00 PM: Cook dinner.

6:30 PM: Dinner.  Mango and brown rice cereal for baby. Bacon fried rice for mama and papa (inspired by Shutterbean)

7:00 PM: Playtime and night time activities with baby.

8:00 PM: Baby's bedtime.

8:30 PM: A myriad of things, including spending some time with this book that I got in the mail today that I am really excited about. It's about the daily rituals of writers, composers, painters, poets, sculptors, filmmakers, scientists, etc. and "how they create (and avoid creating) their creations."

And there we are!

HUNT.GATHER

There's a part of my brain that buzzes and hums whenever I can get in the mode of creating or being creative. It is fulfilling in of itself, but the buzz also helps to stimulate all of the rest of brain, and helps me to stay engaged in both the lofty and everyday life.  There's many things I love about pursuing the creative life, but one of my favorite things is when it forms or begets community. So obviously when I heard about the newly formed Hunt.Gather retreat for women, I was all 'where do I sign up?'

The beginning of such retreats happened last weekend. It was a two day, three session affair, and it offered classes such as photography, writing, cooking, drawing and knitting.  Its intention is to draw out and form community - Redemption Hill's community, the Richmond community, our community - of ladies who are participants and purveyors of the creative life, and provide a space to retreat, make, and conversate. The preparation was simple - you picked a session or two of your interest, paid just $5 per class, and then showed up. I signed up for a figure drawing class because it had been oh so long since I sketched with a pencil and pad and I was excited for the set aside time to just revel in moving my hand across a page. It was a much needed break from the busy life and it was refreshing - there was humming, buzzing, zoning, relaxing. Our teacher, Michaela, was fun, relaxed, and knowledgeable about guiding the small group through each person's attempts, and her insights and the experience of those few hours reminded me of how enjoyable I find this particular mode of creating.

I know that Megan - the force behind this retreat - is looking to make this a recurring event, possibly the next one to come in the fall, so keep your eye out. If you like their Facebook page, you will probably be alerted when the dates for the next one go up. You can find the Facebook here, see more pictures there, and the blog here.

TWO ARMS TO HOLD AS MUCH AS I NEED

I am zone out queen these days. It's not that I am thinking about nothing; it's that I have so many things to think on that I leave reality for a minute in order to address that other thought and then it's all, 'where DID i put those keys?'  I explain this to my husband by saying that I have more important things to use my brain power for, i.e. making sure I do my best to take care of a baby, and yes it IS unfortunate that I can't remember if I've turned the stove off, but I'm trying, and things seem to be going okay so far, don't they? i know it drives K. sometimes - it drives ME crazy almost all the time, but patience, patience, while I get the hang of this.

I call it the octopus mode. It's a necessary skill that is thrust upon a mother, and if you're a newbie, there's some fumbling around and dropping of balls. But then I think (I hope) what happens is that you start to become better at the juggling and become the sort of octopus that knows how to utilize all eight arms like a champ. Sometimes I really do wish I had about six more arms, but then, would it feel as complete, as filling, and all-encompassing as it does when I hold my baby close and tight with my two arms?

For now, (I tell myself), it's okay that I drop a ball or two, as long as I can use these two arms that I do have to wrap them around my baby each night.

COLOR ME RAD

My sis-in-law and her bf came up to RVA this past weekend so that we could all run a 5K together wherein we donned white shirts to get pumped and colorbombed.  It was so much fun - for people watching, feeling like a part of a big community, being splattered with colors, and getting some exercise on a crispy Saturday morning.  It was totally my kind of party/exercise.

All photos taken with a Kodak disposable camera.

FIG JAM, BACON, AND BRIE 'WHICH

On one hand, I have been really into eating sautéed broccoli for breakfast every morning. On the other hand, I still daydream about bagels smothered in cream cheese. It is what it is. I know summer is just around the corner and I am aware that there are cute bathing suits popping up in stores, soo I apologize in advance if you are a total sucker for the sweet, savory and salty combo like I am, because I may or may not have had four of these sandwiches in the past two days. When a food hits those three elements in perfect harmony, it’s like I have a black hole inside my body for consuming that food. I made a sweet potato, onion, bacon and apple hash a few weeks ago, and I swear the fork-to-mouth movement was on autopilot, I could have eaten it for days.

My rad friend Elizabeth knows about such delectable combinations and she is the one who introduced me to this little number the other day for breakfast. I think part of the appeal is its simplicity and how easy it is to put it together; it’s simple but then when you combine them together, it’s like a flavor explosion in your mouth. The construction consists of fig jam spread on an English muffin, topped with brie and bacon. Done and you're welcome! I have also tried it with goat cheese instead of brie and that provides yet another of flavor due to the tang of goat cheese. I think a camembert would also work really well.

Incidentally, the day I had one of these for dinner and took these photos, was also the first time Sloane tried strawberries. These days she’s all about eating foods that she can pick up herself and put in her mouth, and she went to town on the little pieces of strawberries.

THE INVISIBLE MADE VISIBLE

i hope you all are having the kind of thanksgiving that let's you sleep in, wake up to loved ones, eat good food with those loved ones, that allows you time to reflect on all your blessings and bounty, and spurs your heart to burst with gratitude!

During such a day and the long weekend if you are hankering to relax and watch a good show, check out 'the invisible made visible' put on by the awesome, and one of my favorite radio shows, This American Life. I think the entire thing is about 2 hours long and you can download it for just $5. Thats the preview for it up there and you can download the whole thing here.

THAT HAPPY FEELING OF STANDING IN LINE FOR SOME ICE CREAM ON A HOT DAY WITH MY LITTLE FAMILY

New rule: the family must go on an ice cream run on those days that scream summer and then enjoy every ray of sunshine and daylight available...bonus points if it happens on a weekday. We got it together to make such an outing happen last week on that weekday when it hit 90 degrees (yes, 90 degrees!) We happened to not have anything planned that night, our batteries hadn’t been drained by the end of the work day, dinner was made and eaten in under an hour (which almost never happens!), and we had about 1.5 hours before Sloane’s bedtime.  Ice cream run it is! Due to all the aforementioned things, it felt like such a novelty to roar out together. We also fit in a quick stop at Target, which meant more things crossed off my to-do list, and came home with some extra pints of ice cream to boot.

Sloane didn’t actually get any ice cream, but she watched us eat it, bounced on the bench outside, and sported a lovely romper with ice cream cones on it, so she was a full and satisfied participant.

SUMMER UNIFORM

this boardwalk dress from ace and jig would be a good dress to live in 

SLOANE AT 8 MONTHS (OH MY SHE IS GETTING SO BIG!)

Once she learned that she could move across the floor on her hands and knees, she seamlessly transitioned into pulling herself up in her crib, onto boxes, up against the sofa, anything that will stand still for her.  She will sometimes try to pull herself up onto a wall, impervious to the fact that there is no ledge or handle to hold onto, she will put both of her palms against the wall and try to push up with her legs. Legs which resemble the trunks of an elephant. Ken tirelessly comments on how hefty her legs are, as he squeezes them with delight. I watch, already mourning the inevitable loss of the extra chub. Her confidence has grown over the past few weeks, and she crawls, pulls up, goes from laying down to sitting up, walks along her crib, all with the speed and confidence of an expert. Her confidence amuses me, makes me proud; and it amuses me that I feel pride about such things.  Her confidence and mobility also brought the sort of awareness of her surroundings that makes bedtime that much more difficult.  No matter the effort to soothe, calm, and prepare her for bed, once she is placed in laying position, she immediately pops up and comes to standing position against her crib, bouncing up and down, giving you sweet smiles trying to convince you to Stay! Play! Don’t leave me here! After several attempts, I usually end up nursing her to sleep, which is the most effective, but not necessarily the preferred method. Ken and I are discussing other battle strategies that we will implement to convince this little one that bed time can be the best time.

Vocal utterances now include the sounds of ‘mamama’, ‘bababa’, ‘nanana’, ‘ho-ta’, ‘rah rah’, 'weh', ' pah', 'yah', as well as the very loudly declared ‘Ah!’ which she enjoys best as a call and response. She has also discovered the joy of the raspberry, and is extremely pleased when you blllrrrrrrrr right back at her. 

She is so very sweet with Ken’s grandmother.

She loves to watch me dance. It makes me feel like a prima ballerina.

She is a happy and willing participant when I use her as a weight for my squats.

Her personality still seems to be this mix of relaxed and stubborn – which could be a reflecting of her parent’s personalities somewhat, but it could also just be what babyhood is.

And again, I have to write myself a little note here to comment about how this little creature finds it intuitive? necessary? to stare deep into the faces of people she sees. I’ve seen her grow absolutely still looking at a new person, or a relatively new person, with the most serious expression, trying to take them in. I’ve also seen her do this when looking at a painting. I’ve resolved to take her to the art museum again soon.

I find my bliss in hearing her laugh and giggling with her.

A LITTLE SALON

I had a little get together a few weeks ago where friends brought pieces of songs/music/poems that they love or created for the purposes of sharing, and it was something kind of wonderful. Here is what I learned:

1-  Being in a creative space -  a space where people are talking about creativity, how they want to be creative, their creative aspirations, why creativity is important, and what they have created - can re-energize the soul. 

2 -  There is this innate belief that we have as humans, that when you are vulnerable, you are also your true self – sincere, genuine. Even though exposing your creative soul can be a scary thing, it is brilliant for its potential to forge real connections between people. Connections that occur, joyfully, easily, because you can see that what they are communicating to you is something of their true nature, without pretense or branding. There is a kind of solidarity that happens, of personhood, wherein we rally together to say that we are passionate and we are moved. That even though it is hard to both pursue and stay in the moment, we are trying, together.

3 - I absolutely love being in this kind of space.

NEW LIFE, HOPE, AND JOY

I had grand plans to engage in some sort of Easter craft this past weekend, maybe Easter egg piñatas, at least some egg dyes, but it fell behind the list of things like spending hours watching the baby pull herself up onto anything that would let her, which was highly entertaining, and taking a shower, which was highly necessary. There was nary a colored egg in the house, but I’m pretty sure no one minded. Food for thought though, am I going to be the kind of mother who goes all out and makes Easter baskets for her kids? Or will I be the kind of mom who rolls her eyes at the commercialization of Easter and explains to her kids that it’s all a ruse? It could go either way! K.’s mother and grandmother came into town, and from all the extra love and attention Sloane was getting I’m sure she knew something was up. K. and I spent a minute on Sunday morning explaining to Sloane the meaning of Easter, not that she understood, but more as a habit for her parents to get used to sitting down and explaining things like that to her, and note to selves: we need the practice.

One of the most memorable things to me from my childhood about Easter were the plays about the crucifixion and resurrection that always went on during this time, and also, the Easter outfits. More than other church-related holidays, Easter outfits are a thing, right? Living in a house with two sisters, I remember new dresses, (sometimes matching!) and I have vague memories of flouncing about in the feeling of newness and spring. I’m glad it’s still a thing because I got a kick out of all the little people dressed in Easter outfits at church yesterday, and an even bigger kick out of dressing my baby in pastel and floral. My parents sent us a Happy Easter email that said, “May the promise of new life, hope, and joy fill your heart on Easter season!” and it had a picture of Sloane attached to it. Even though it was a grey, cloudy, rainy Easter, seeing all the babes dressed like spring, and seeing my new baby full of life and wonder, made this Easter feel extra special.

ENJOYING A BABY

I just wanted to say, for the record, how much I am enjoying this baby of mine these days.

Honestly, things got a little hairy when it got to month 6 back in January. It was the accumulation of too many factors and responsibilities all mushed into one giant snowball and stuffed in my face, making for rough days and an often overwhelmed version of myself.  It’s how I expected to feel much earlier during the very beginning stages of motherhood, but apparently most of that had stayed at bay until my parents were here a few months ago, allowing me some room and space to acknowledge that I was spent, and be okay with that.

 Maybe because I was prepared for the worst, but the first few months of the baby’s life was not the life turning upside down debacle that I had imagined (main ingredient: hindsight).   Yes, sometimes I felt like I was in a hamster wheel, and all that leaking in the beginning was NOT cool, but I never felt truly overwhelmed. Also, full disclosure, this can be largely attributed to the fact that she was a really good newborn - straightforward with not too much fuss. When I went back to work, I again, expected the worst, but it wasn’t that bad. I was extremely busy, especially in the mornings, but there I was doing it, not minding it all. I remember feeling extremely excited when I got off work and headed over to pick her up from daycare, and that feeling of her weight in my arms at the end of the day was my jet fuel.  But then, right about in the middle of January, it got really cold, my body started freaking out about nursing all of a sudden, Sloane started waking up in the middle of night, and the little sleep I was getting was not nearly enough. Suddenly, it felt like there was way too many chores to do around the house, I dreaded being at work, and it stopped making sense that I was dropping my baby off with someone else everyday.   Physical problems + lack of sleep + a million things to do = low quality Christine. It was an onslaught, and that’s when I remember feeling for the first time that I was really overwhelmed and that I needed a break. It was the first time since Sloane was born that I started fantasizing about having a day entirely to myself to do nothing, but midway through this fantasy, I would instantly feel guilty and homesick for my baby. Actually, I don’t think guilty is the right word.   I want to always be there for her, NOT because I think I should, but because I really do want to be the one that is there and does everything. Ken was great about helping, but it was based on me asking him to do things when I needed help, rather than dividing up responsibilities in a way that allowed him just as much initiative. It took a while, but this breaking point was when it got into my thick skull that I can’t possibly do everything, and there is no reason why I should. Taking a deep breath, realizing that I needed to give myself a break, dividing up responsibilities with Ken, and my recovering body, all helped me get some perspective and sanity.

This past week, I decided to give myself a real break and not cook any dinners during the weekday. I made a huge pot of beef vegetable soup on Sunday that lasted us a couple of days, we had leftovers another night, and ate out another. Having a break from the routine of starting dinner the minute I walked in the house, whilst trying to nurse Sloane and unwind from the day, was really good for me. I felt like I could just enjoy being with the baby a little more, and ENJOY I DID. She is SUCH a bundle of fun right now and I can’t get enough of her sweet face, noises, smiles, laughs and all her chub. Seriously, I can’t get enough.

So far, it seems like this motherhood thing constitutes peaks and valleys, being flexible, taking a chill pill, and a lot of hindsight. This is all part of the process, people, I'm learning.  I’m trying to be aware and prayerful during the exhausted times, and celebratory and joyful during the re-energized times. Life with a growing baby also means time whips by at a tremendous speed and I am making it a law of my heart to appreciate every single moment. Don’t get me wrong, I could really use more than the 5 hours of sleep I’ve been getting recently, but I’ve been hyper aware these days of how much I am being filled with love when I am with this baby and how I’m already a little sad knowing how fleeting this time (and all her chub!) is, and so I just wanted take a few moments to take a step back, a look back, a good look, to say, HEY I’M ENJOYING THIS SO MUCH RIGHT NOW AND I LOVE HER SO MUCH I COULD BURST.