I was suddenly transformed. My preoccupation with climbing the corporate ladder was interrupted. Wiping noses and bottoms, playing peek-a-boo and singing “The Itsty Bitsy Spider” has me single-heartedly off-track.
The birth of my, now 3-year-old son, Nolan, changed my life in unexpected ways. At times, while holding him, I’ll catch a glance of myself in a mirror and think, “Wow, that’s me and my son. How did that happen?”
It seems like yesterday I learned that I was pregnant, dreaming about the little person inside me; wondering who he was; who he would become; if he would look like me or laugh like me. I was so eager to meet him that I carried his ultrasound picture everywhere I went, introducing him to the world as if I patented a new product.
I remember eating breakfast one morning, prior to Nolan’s birth, and feeling struck. Struck for the first time in my life with a true purpose. My purpose, the one I sought for so long, finally had been revealed. I suddenly longed for my child. I was ready for my new challenge: My new title; my new career; and, my new fortune.
At 39 weeks into my pregnancy, I began doing everything to initiate labor. Despite my lazy bladder, I increased my exercise regime by walking my pre-pregnancy, three-mile loop around my neighborhood, not even Kegels could prevent the inevitable. Since all I ended up with were wet pants, I tried other alternatives: I cooked.
Well, that didn’t work. The aroma of curry, alone, left me with heartburn and indigestion so I decided to initiate my last option: Sex. My husband, my belly and I, well, you know where I am going with this. Old wives tales are fun to chat about, but my question is: Did anyone else ever think these were true?
Finally, at 41-weeks, he was born. Birth – life’s most miraculous moment. The true meaning of my life hadn’t been revealed until then.
I can’t remember what occupied my days before him. When I was pregnant everyone said, “Your life will never be the same again.” I always knew my life would undergo a massive makeover. I just didn’t know how much my life would change.
Some of life’s changes seemed obvious: Scaling back on the expensive and frequent dinners out; reducing my work load would result in less money; and, loving my child a lot.
Prior to conceiving Nolan, I often wondered why people had three or four children. I wanted one or two, but never imagined having more. More than two children seemed silly, both from a time and financial standpoint.
I enjoyed earning that big bonus check after working long hours at my job. I enjoyed wearing designer clothes to exclusive restaurants, immersing myself in intellectual conversation over fine wines. I enjoyed shopping at Banana Republic and owning several pairs of Via Spiga shoes. It was hard imagining my life free of expense accounts and dinner reservations.
I imagined that expense accounts would become budgets; that dinner reservations would be seldom; and lunch dates with people half my size. I did, however, still see myself strolling through the shopping mall with baby in one arm and my Kate Spade in the other. I imagined a spotless house and a gourmet meal being served upon my husband’s arrival home from work. If we can’t go to P.F. Chang’s, I’ll bring it here.
As soon as my son was born, it was confirmed. I love him. It’s hard not to sit and stare at him counting each finger and each toe twice, talking baby talk all day long. I study his face. He studies mine. Our eyes connect. They fix. Not even the sting on an unblinked eye could end the moment. I never imagined this transformation!
Prior to my son, my job was my hot pursuit. My need for being needed in conference calls or meetings devoured me. Now, being needed by my son has put things into perspective. I finally understand the meaning of my life.
My passions are coming to life in ways I never expected. Never again do I want sleepless nights caused by work pressures, nor do I want my creativity stunted by worldly exhaustions. I want the best of me to be portrayed to my child.
Portraying the best is work and hasn’t come sacrifice-free. Resigning from my full-time job to pursue part-time opportunities, opportunities that are sporadic, isn’t easy. Switching gears, to allow more time at home has been difficult.
You would assume that with more than a decade of career-building experiences, I would easily transition into a productive stay-at-home mom brewing with creative ways to occupy my son, while also reinventing myself to provide my family the dual income we have grown accustomed to.
My new opportunities haven’t brought much fortune or fame, but the sound of my son’s “da da da,” throughout the day, makes all the sacrifices worth it. So I was right to assume that are frequent dinners out would be few. In fact, I can’t remember the last time we dined- out. Oops, I forgot we had dinner at Bob’s Big Boy earlier this month. It’s been over a decade since I dined at that restaurant.
Budgets are now essential, but I am still able to shop at Banana Republic – the outlet, and I do own a Kate Spade – a fake one that I bought at a purse party.
In addition, it was silly to predict a spotless home, one that was dust-bunny free and stamped with the approval of Martha Stewart. Flailing into motherhood has made me realize how cumbersome simple tasks can be when you are distracted by your jovial creation every moment of the day. Housecleaning has become a challenging new sport. The days of scrubbing grout is over; a wet swifter will have to do.
Sorry again, Martha, my husband does not arrive home to a piping hot meal on the dinner table every night, and I do cook. Instead he is greeted by Nolan, who now screams “Daddy’s home, yeah!” and our second child, Addison, who sits on her throne in the kitchen, throwing bits of food to our dog, Cooper. Usually, the Shake-N - Bake pork chops are still cooking in the oven.
And, lastly, I am sad to admit our trips to the shopping mall have been few, usually limited to J.C. Penny’s for quarterly photo shoots, even Kate Spade can’t tag along. I sure miss that girl.
After packing diapers, wipes, bottles, pacifiers, snacks, a change of clothes for the frequent blow-out, the stroller, umbrella, coat, hat and mittens that must accompany us on every excursion, there is simply no room for my old pal.
After months of learning my new trade, I am determined to master my hot, new career. Nolan, and now Addison, provides a salary of less than minimum wage, but a satisfaction rate of 100-percent. Watching them develop and grow is more rewarding than I ever imagined. The excitement I experience at each milestone keeps their baby book filled with freeze-frame moments: From the first smile, not the one mistaken for gas; the first giggle, still the sweetest sound I have ever heard; the first time they crawled or walked; or the first time they blew spit bubbles while eating sweet potatoes, spraying orange mush on my new sweater, with products like Shout wipes moms can raise children in style, at least.
Their firsts” came and went so quickly. I want to stop time and appreciate each moment. In no time at all, my son outgrew his 0-to 3-months-old clothes. I packed away many onesies and sleepers with the tags still attached. Some of the garments I couldn’t resist purchasing, had never been worn. The blue chenille nightie, with the teddy bear feet was my favorite. Why didn’t he wear it? What occasion was I waiting for? I decided right then and there that my second child would dress to the nines – even on lazy days where all we do is lounge on the sofa or grocery shop.
Within what seemed like just days, my son, and now my daughter, outgrew their 3- to 6- months-old clothes. “Slow down,” I screamed, “you’re growing up too fast.”
Maybe we should have a third baby. I want more for us to love. The best gifts my parents gave me were my siblings. “What’s happening to me? This doesn’t sound like me.”
The answer is simple: Motherhood has happened and my life will never be the same. Besides Nike’s are much more comfortable than Via Spigas.
The birth of my, now 3-year-old son, Nolan, changed my life in unexpected ways. At times, while holding him, I’ll catch a glance of myself in a mirror and think, “Wow, that’s me and my son. How did that happen?”
It seems like yesterday I learned that I was pregnant, dreaming about the little person inside me; wondering who he was; who he would become; if he would look like me or laugh like me. I was so eager to meet him that I carried his ultrasound picture everywhere I went, introducing him to the world as if I patented a new product.
I remember eating breakfast one morning, prior to Nolan’s birth, and feeling struck. Struck for the first time in my life with a true purpose. My purpose, the one I sought for so long, finally had been revealed. I suddenly longed for my child. I was ready for my new challenge: My new title; my new career; and, my new fortune.
At 39 weeks into my pregnancy, I began doing everything to initiate labor. Despite my lazy bladder, I increased my exercise regime by walking my pre-pregnancy, three-mile loop around my neighborhood, not even Kegels could prevent the inevitable. Since all I ended up with were wet pants, I tried other alternatives: I cooked.
Well, that didn’t work. The aroma of curry, alone, left me with heartburn and indigestion so I decided to initiate my last option: Sex. My husband, my belly and I, well, you know where I am going with this. Old wives tales are fun to chat about, but my question is: Did anyone else ever think these were true?
Finally, at 41-weeks, he was born. Birth – life’s most miraculous moment. The true meaning of my life hadn’t been revealed until then.
I can’t remember what occupied my days before him. When I was pregnant everyone said, “Your life will never be the same again.” I always knew my life would undergo a massive makeover. I just didn’t know how much my life would change.
Some of life’s changes seemed obvious: Scaling back on the expensive and frequent dinners out; reducing my work load would result in less money; and, loving my child a lot.
Prior to conceiving Nolan, I often wondered why people had three or four children. I wanted one or two, but never imagined having more. More than two children seemed silly, both from a time and financial standpoint.
I enjoyed earning that big bonus check after working long hours at my job. I enjoyed wearing designer clothes to exclusive restaurants, immersing myself in intellectual conversation over fine wines. I enjoyed shopping at Banana Republic and owning several pairs of Via Spiga shoes. It was hard imagining my life free of expense accounts and dinner reservations.
I imagined that expense accounts would become budgets; that dinner reservations would be seldom; and lunch dates with people half my size. I did, however, still see myself strolling through the shopping mall with baby in one arm and my Kate Spade in the other. I imagined a spotless house and a gourmet meal being served upon my husband’s arrival home from work. If we can’t go to P.F. Chang’s, I’ll bring it here.
As soon as my son was born, it was confirmed. I love him. It’s hard not to sit and stare at him counting each finger and each toe twice, talking baby talk all day long. I study his face. He studies mine. Our eyes connect. They fix. Not even the sting on an unblinked eye could end the moment. I never imagined this transformation!
Prior to my son, my job was my hot pursuit. My need for being needed in conference calls or meetings devoured me. Now, being needed by my son has put things into perspective. I finally understand the meaning of my life.
My passions are coming to life in ways I never expected. Never again do I want sleepless nights caused by work pressures, nor do I want my creativity stunted by worldly exhaustions. I want the best of me to be portrayed to my child.
Portraying the best is work and hasn’t come sacrifice-free. Resigning from my full-time job to pursue part-time opportunities, opportunities that are sporadic, isn’t easy. Switching gears, to allow more time at home has been difficult.
You would assume that with more than a decade of career-building experiences, I would easily transition into a productive stay-at-home mom brewing with creative ways to occupy my son, while also reinventing myself to provide my family the dual income we have grown accustomed to.
My new opportunities haven’t brought much fortune or fame, but the sound of my son’s “da da da,” throughout the day, makes all the sacrifices worth it. So I was right to assume that are frequent dinners out would be few. In fact, I can’t remember the last time we dined- out. Oops, I forgot we had dinner at Bob’s Big Boy earlier this month. It’s been over a decade since I dined at that restaurant.
Budgets are now essential, but I am still able to shop at Banana Republic – the outlet, and I do own a Kate Spade – a fake one that I bought at a purse party.
In addition, it was silly to predict a spotless home, one that was dust-bunny free and stamped with the approval of Martha Stewart. Flailing into motherhood has made me realize how cumbersome simple tasks can be when you are distracted by your jovial creation every moment of the day. Housecleaning has become a challenging new sport. The days of scrubbing grout is over; a wet swifter will have to do.
Sorry again, Martha, my husband does not arrive home to a piping hot meal on the dinner table every night, and I do cook. Instead he is greeted by Nolan, who now screams “Daddy’s home, yeah!” and our second child, Addison, who sits on her throne in the kitchen, throwing bits of food to our dog, Cooper. Usually, the Shake-N - Bake pork chops are still cooking in the oven.
And, lastly, I am sad to admit our trips to the shopping mall have been few, usually limited to J.C. Penny’s for quarterly photo shoots, even Kate Spade can’t tag along. I sure miss that girl.
After packing diapers, wipes, bottles, pacifiers, snacks, a change of clothes for the frequent blow-out, the stroller, umbrella, coat, hat and mittens that must accompany us on every excursion, there is simply no room for my old pal.
After months of learning my new trade, I am determined to master my hot, new career. Nolan, and now Addison, provides a salary of less than minimum wage, but a satisfaction rate of 100-percent. Watching them develop and grow is more rewarding than I ever imagined. The excitement I experience at each milestone keeps their baby book filled with freeze-frame moments: From the first smile, not the one mistaken for gas; the first giggle, still the sweetest sound I have ever heard; the first time they crawled or walked; or the first time they blew spit bubbles while eating sweet potatoes, spraying orange mush on my new sweater, with products like Shout wipes moms can raise children in style, at least.
Their firsts” came and went so quickly. I want to stop time and appreciate each moment. In no time at all, my son outgrew his 0-to 3-months-old clothes. I packed away many onesies and sleepers with the tags still attached. Some of the garments I couldn’t resist purchasing, had never been worn. The blue chenille nightie, with the teddy bear feet was my favorite. Why didn’t he wear it? What occasion was I waiting for? I decided right then and there that my second child would dress to the nines – even on lazy days where all we do is lounge on the sofa or grocery shop.
Within what seemed like just days, my son, and now my daughter, outgrew their 3- to 6- months-old clothes. “Slow down,” I screamed, “you’re growing up too fast.”
Maybe we should have a third baby. I want more for us to love. The best gifts my parents gave me were my siblings. “What’s happening to me? This doesn’t sound like me.”
The answer is simple: Motherhood has happened and my life will never be the same. Besides Nike’s are much more comfortable than Via Spigas.
1 comment:
Well who really, if we're honest with ourselves, prefers Via Spigas over Nikes? Face it, we do prefer comfort over fashion...
Fellow Mad Mom
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