MISSED ME, MISSED ME, NOW YOU GOTTA KISS ME

These days my daughters have begun to implement the policy “early to bed even earlier to rise”. I like to believe it is because they miss us when they sleep and are consumed by their love for us, which makes 4:30am slightly more bearable. Our bed has always been a place for everything: dogs, kids, breakfast and it was not an accident that one of Madeleine’s first words was “snuggle”. We are an “I love you”, kisses and hugs family because I will never let a day go by where anyone that lives in my heart questions my love for them. Love is simply too important.

I’ve felt this baby move much earlier than science would suggest possible, but I’m sure, because I’m the only one that knows her. The stirrings of pregnancy are like a secret only a mother can understand. We are alone together for such a short time before I have to share her with the world. I remember when Charlotte was born and since she was the first grandchild on both sides, she was constantly being adored by everyone—but when she was out of my arms and our heartbeats were no longer inches apart, I missed her like I would if I had lost a part of my body.

I recognize by having 3 children that the individual attention allotted to each will be even less than before. My husband and I will be outnumbered, so we are guaranteed to miss one daughter’s band-aid application or back-to-school night, unless we start seriously considering the addition of a sister-wife to even out our adult-to-child ratio.

Several close friends have gotten emotional as they sent their kids off to TK or kindergarten this past week, and I recognize these emotions even though it is not yet our turn: we parents have always been there and now school is the first place we will miss out on watching them grow in new ways. I remember 10 years ago I visited a wild-life sanctuary in Australia and I watched a mother kangaroo struggle to carry her much-too-old teenage joey in her pouch. Back then, I felt sorry for her struggle. Now, as a mom, I believe that kangaroo is my spirit animal and was living the dream of always keeping her child close by. Just the other day Charlotte told me, “I wish I could be inside your tummy again, Mommy. Then we could be together all the time and I would never miss you.” How could someone so young, understand love so profoundly? And so I will do my best to be present for every snuggle, invest in a bed larger than a California king, while channeling my inner Mama kangaroo, all without missing a beat.

Conscious Mothering

There is an internal war that rages within mothers around the world. We battle each other, ourselves and strangers to compete for the ability to have it all while simultaneously doing it the best. An impossible standard that reflects the perfect balance between not just one or two things, but everything. It is not enough to just be a mom, but we need to work, run marathons, clean/cook--all while maintaining an image of sanity and happiness with the perfect caption and filter for social media. In my husband and I’s decision to trade in our family-four-pack for an uneven, out-numbered party of five, I felt myself give way to an internal shift. For some of you this may have happened with your first, second or fifth child-- or you could completely disagree and choose a different way. But in my experience, today, I have consciously decided to go all in and wear my mom hat and fanny pack proudly as my main identity.

Somewhere in between one and two kids I became obsessed with the idea that my strong, independent, feminist-self was being suffocated by motherhood. I will never be the person I was before I became a mom. What a terrifying concept that I am not myself anymore. I had so many tiny hands pulling me every which way, I was scared I wouldn’t be strong enough to balance the weight of it all.

If I put my life into acts like a play, one would assume that I’d always be in the starring role. But this is not the case right now. It is not about me, it is about them and the little life inside I am growing. And the most important thing I’ve learned is that is ok. This act is theirs and mine will come later. I enjoy holding them up to the light so they can shine, in fact, it makes me the happiest I have ever been. Of course, I carve out pieces of time for me, my husband, my friends and extended family all of which makes my heart even fuller. But I am consciously choosing to put all my chips on motherhood. I will happily succumb to the minivan, softball practice, and bedtime stories because these are purposeful choices I am making. Motherhood doesn’t have to be like gravity where it exists simply because it does. How easy it is to take for granted these everyday motions and look around to watch every other mom somehow doing it all with more grace and a cleaner house. I now see that my kids were never pulling me down, but rather helping me step into the role I was meant to play.

From the second your child enters your life an internal alarm is triggered that ignites guilt, pressure, self-doubt and seems to magnify our inadequacies-- the results cannot leave any sane woman unscathed. We are never doing enough, being enough, giving enough. To which I say enough now. Enough. I have decided to let it all go and embrace my new mantra that in motherhood I may have lost my sanity, but I have found my soul.

More than Spit-Up

It’s been a long time my friends! I wish I could tell you that I took a 6-week vacation to Hawaii and now I’m tropically tan, rested and ready to conquer the world. Instead, we are gratefully pregnant with baby girl number three— but sadly, with my third round of Hyperemesis Gravidarm (HG). For those of you unfamiliar with this medical condition that sounds like I only have months to live, it is a complication of pregnancy characterized by intractable nausea, vomiting, and dehydration that affects about .5-2% of pregnant women.  This condition was made famous by Kate Middleton, who despite this horrific ordeal is still managing to pop out little royals like they alone are in charge of repopulating the Earth. It’s really only a ailment fit for a princess because then at least you have dozens of nanny’s, special cooks etc. to help with your existing children and ridiculous food cravings like caprese salad at 9am or a peanut butter smoothie for dinner.

All of my efforts this past 14 weeks have been put towards barely surviving mothering my daughters and running to and from every toilet, sink, and garbage can in a 50-mile radius. Don’t let slap-stick comedy fool you; throw up in real life, is not a lot of thing-- including funny. 

It is not morning sickness.

Almost all pregnant women get some form of morning sickness and it not just limited to the AM hours. Really it should be renamed mourning sickness where you mourn your new normal of feeling like you simultaneously want to nap while murdering your co-worker who ate tuna for lunch and hasn’t showered since Tuesday. It is around 3 or 4 weeks of queasiness with occasional vomiting. Compared to what I have; that sounds like a Hawaiian vacation.

It is not a time for suggestions or comments.

Have you tried motion sickness bands, morning sickness lozenges, vitamin B6, acupuncture? 

When you are sick over a dozen times in a day, yes I have tried absolutely everything. You’d be amazed how many people have used these last 3 months to tell me just how much they personally hate vomiting.

It is my least favorite sickness to have. Ugh, I just hate it.

You are not an anomaly. With the exception of professional hot dog eaters, absolutely everyone, including me, hates throwing up.

It is not a time to tell your vomiting stories.

Please don’t tell me about that one time you tried the fish tacos out of a food truck in Fort Lauderdale and got food poisoning from both ends for 2 days. Not only does the idea of fish tacos actively bring my breakfast up into my mouth, but now I can’t stop picturing you on the toilet.

The irony is not lost on me that the title of my blog is Wit and Spit-Up and I’ve accepted that bodily fluids are simply a part of my everyday life. I knew the gamble we were taking purposefully wanting a third when I’ve had this condition with my past two-- however this is simply how my body creates the world's most wonderful daughters. And so, I look forward to the days when we are back to the wit and done with the spit-up.