Lesson #10: Our First Last

Dear Baby,

I officially stopped breast feeding you yesterday.  It was a perfect, sun-drenched, baby blue sky type of day and I was putting you down for your afternoon nap. It was a nice way to say "goodbye" to this lovely adventure called breastfeeding.

The reasons why yesterday was THE DAY are many.  First, you don't seem to need it anymore now that you are eating many different types of foods and drinking cow's milk.  And, really, you have already weaned yourself...just taking to the boob for a few minutes before you sleep.  Secondly, I will be going back to work soon and need to stop anyway.  Third, I made it to fourteen months.  My goal was a year and I breast fed you for a glorious sixty days longer than I anticipated...so, it seemed like this was as good a time as any.  And, and, and I was going to the dermatologist because mommy's skin is like that of a pizza-faced teen and I knew that the derm would inject my cystic acne with cortisone (God I hope you have your father's milky perfect complexion...so far, so good) and I knew that I couldn't breastfeed you after that.  Plus, there is the matter of the ulcer I've had since I was three months pregnant that I was told I couldn't treat until I was done breastfeeding.  So, alas, it came time for mommy to get sorted  on the inside and out.  And so, yesterday became the last time.  

I was singing to you, as I do.  This time it was a mix of "You are my sunshine", "Edelweiss" and a made up song called "Izzy Girl" that is reminiscent of a Supreme's tune.  I looked at your face while you drank and wondered if you knew it was the last time, too.  You looked even more angelic that normal--which, c'mon, is pretty angelic.  You would stop drinking after a few chugs and smile, my nipple still in your mouth.  It made me laugh.  And that made you laugh.  I wondered if you would miss it the way, I knew, I would.  You resumed drinking.  I tried to memorize everything about the moment.  How the room was a pleasant temperature with the breeze from your open window gently providing a little cool.  The breeze had the faint small of jasmine that your dad planted when we first moved into the house five years ago.  The jasmine is quite impressive now, filling our yard and pleasing our noses whenever we step foot onto our back deck.  You were wearing the super soft pink polka dot ensemble and while I fed you, you playfully pulled off your socks, as you do.  Then you took your naked feet and put them up to my mouth and I immediately began to kiss and nibble them.  More laughter from us both.  

I tried to hide my tears from you.  I sang as pretty as I could but my voice kept cracking with my sobs.  You and I have been experiencing so many "firsts" and it pained me to be experiencing a "last".  There was a heartache in me that was bittersweet.  Because I feel that it was one of the great privileges of my life to be able to breastfeed you.  I've had so many girlfriends that have had trouble with it so I feel ridiculously grateful to have been able to do it.  To have done it as long as I did.  To have been your only source of nutrition.  I loved every moment of it, baby.  Even the pumping in the car on the way home from meetings.  The checking my milk with fancy alcohol detection strips on the occasional night I'd have a bottle of beer to make sure the milk was safe for you to drink.  The pain when the detection strip told me that I had to toss the milk I pumped and I had to watch the liquid gold make it's way down the sink. The waking up at odd hours to pop a boob into your mouth so that we could both go back to the land of Nod.  It was all perfection.  

How is this a lesson?  Well, I suppose the lesson is: "Cherish every moment".  I know.  It's so cliche even I want to vomit all over myself.  And assholes use cliches instead of forming original thought so we must do better. But every cliche is a cliche for a reason, eh?  Perhaps behind, even the cheesiest ones, there is a morsel of something real and wise.  Or perhaps the lesson is that sometimes the things you fear end up being some of your favorite things in life.  Because I wasn't sold on breast feeding, if I'm being completely honest.  Oh, I was committed to doing it.  Was dead set on doing it for a year.  But I am not someone that likes their nipples being touched and played with (oh, baby, I'm so sorry on some level that you now know that)...and I feared and did not look forward to breastfeeding.  And here we are, fourteen months later,  and I will miss it terribly.  And I it will be one of the things I look forward to when I have the next baby--your little brother or sister...a few years from now.  

Yes, let's make that the lesson.  Sometimes the things you fear may end up being some of the best things that ever happen to you.

I love you tons and tons,

Mommy

Lesson #9: One Size Doesn't Fit All

Dear Baby,

You will hear a lot over the course of your life about size. I wish that wasn't the case but all I can hope is that I will instill enough good self esteem in you so that your focus is on fit not size. Fit is a whole other thing. Fit is what you want to be. Fit means being "in good health". And I wish always for you to be healthy, baby.

Fit also means how clothes "fit" you. Buy clothes that fit well. Don't buy clothes based on size. Often people are so obsessed with wanting to be a particular size that they wear ill fitting clothes. Then they walk around muffin topping out of a pair of size 2 jeans as opposed to just buying the size 4 that actually "fits". Those size 2's make an asshole out of them baby. And your mother has been that asshole one time too many. Learn from my mistake.

Focusing on being fit also will encourage you to go out into the world and move. Being a healthy person means going on walks and playing sports or even just dancing in the living room to your favorite song. My goal is to raise you in an active home, to encourage you to eat healthfully and to put focus on fitness and balance.

Another reason I don't want you to focus on size is because you probably won't be big in stature. As the daughter of a woman who is 5'1" on a good day and a father that is 5'9 on a better day, you probably won't be tall. I won't sugar coat it, baby, you probably won't be average. You'll probably be small. And you can see this as a call to be big in how you live your life. I, as a small lady, have always tried to live big and I highly recommend it. In good news, you will probably have small feet which means you'll get great deals at shoe sales as people rarely have small feet. Also, sometimes you can shop at children's stores...I do from time to time. So, there are perks. And mostly, from a scientific standpoint (sortof) we are very economical. We require less natural resources to stay alive. Less food. Less oxygen. Less space. Being small makes us naturally green and while our shoes are small so is our carbon footprint.

So, let's not focus on size, baby. As it turns out, size doesn't matter.
xo, Mom

Lesson #8: Lies

Dear Baby,
Today, as I was changing your diaper a large piece of your solid poo dropped onto the changing mat next to you. You were about to grab it when, without even flinching, I grabbed it and disposed of it in your fancy VIPP diaper pail. I was so proud of myself for not even flinching! Picking up your poo was a no brainer. Man, how this year has changed me! It is such a pleasure to be your mommy, baby. To keep you clean and fed and smiling. Your smile is the best payment there is. And that is no lie.

But there are other lies, baby. Lies that others will tell you, lies you will tell other and lies you will tell yourself. Lies suck. Assholes lie easily. It's like breathing for them. So, we need not to lie. What lying does is poisonous. Because it makes you unaccountable. And, as strong women, we need to own up to who we are, mistakes me make and why we do or don't do things...honestly.

If you are running late, or didn't do your homework, or forgot a birthday it is important to own up to that. Say you are sorry (that's whole other lesson, coming soon) and move on with a clear conscience. Yes, people might get mad at you but maybe that's good. Maybe seeing them get upset and hurt because of your behavior will make it so you don't do that again. Maybe it will make you grow as a person. So, own up to your mistakes and don't make excuses. No one likes people who make excuses.

Often people lie because they think by doing so they won't get into trouble or won't hurt someones feelings. Feeling are tricky. Because this type of lie, ones the relate to other people, are not about our own accountability. And that is where the "white" lie enters the picture.

"White" lies can be dangerous. But, I suppose, kind lies are sometimes necessary. "Does this dress make my ass look big?" That is the perfect example of a question that may require a kind lie. What if it does? Then, maybe you shouldn't be completely truthful. Maybe a kind lie is okay. But only sometimes, baby.

Even in those precarious circumstances, I would encourage you to try to find some truth and say that truth instead of the "white" lie. If a friend asks if the dress makes them look fat you can focus on their eyes or feet or hair. Something that is beautiful about them and compliment that instead. Or, you can use a trick that Sister Mary Fidelis, my old grade school principle, told me. You can always say the word "amazing" and still be technically correct. "The dress looks amazing"...doesn't mean it looks good. You can also say "awesome" or "unforgetable" or "it makes a statement", etc. So, I have just given you ways to be honest even in tricky sensitive situations without lying. The word "amazing" has gotten your mommy out of many sticky situations.

Don't be a liar. You are better than that. And, once you have caught someone in a lie, which has happened to me on numerous occasions, you won't want to be the person doing the lying. It's cowardice, baby. And this momma didn't raise no coward.

I love you honestly and truthfully. Poop and all.
xo, Mommy

Lesson #7: It's Not Always Fair

Dear Baby,
Last night, as I was giving you your final boobie milk, I call it boobie milk, you started to play with my bra strap. What's funny is you did so with your foot. I found this to be highly hilarious and started to laugh. Which caused you to laugh. Which caused me to laugh more. We had our first giggle attack together. It was, for me, a sign of what's to come and it filled me a kind of joy I have only experienced since you entered my life. Bliss. A feeling of peace and joy and glee all at the same time. Then I put you in your crib, told you I loved you and you lay your head down to go to sleep.

Todays lesson is a hard one. Life, sweet baby, isn't always fair. Sometimes it will be awesome and sometimes it will suck. There is no rhyme or reason for it and sometimes it is all completely beyond your control. So, you need to learn to roll with it. It's what I try to do. I try to inhale and exhale and be like a duck. Water just rolls off of a ducks back. Plus, it can swim, walk and fly. Seriously, next time, if that sort of thing exists--then I'm coming back as a duck.

So, yeah, sometimes bad things will happen to good people. Sometimes people you love will get sick or get robbed or get into accidents. And, in turn, sometimes good things will happen to bad people and you'll be like "WTF?" Well, hopefully, you won't swear but sometimes swearing is appropriate. As is the case when good things happen to bad people. But, again, you just have to roll with it. Mind your own business. Stay in your own lane with you eye on the prize. The prize should be becoming the person you want to grow into. Each day you should actively try to take steps to become that person. And allow for that person to change.

I can tell you that I used to want to be a thick skinned person who would do cross word puzzles on the weekends. Seriously. Both of those were high on my list of "Things the most awesome version of 'me' would do and be." But I blow at crossword puzzles and don't enjoy them at all. Why was I trying so hard to do something that I didn't enjoy doing? It was only because I had this vision in my head of a "me" that did that. But in my vision I LOVED doing it. The reality was quite different. The same is true for my thin skin. I'm sensitive. My feelings get hurt. I am highly emotional. You, undoubtadly know this about me by now. And I always fantisized that I would grow into someone who didn't care so much. But after years of trying I've realized that, like my brunette head of hair that I used to wish was blonde, I was just born with thin skin. It is as much a part of me as my brown eyes and 5'1" stature. It is also, I believe, what makes my a good artist and good wife and good friend and hopefully, a good mommy. So, finally, I embrace my thin skin and realize that it doesn't have to be a bad thing.

So, as it turns out the list of who I want to be has changed. I love Scrabble and have thin skin...and, what's funny is, that by being honest with myself and more accepting of myself I am two steps closer to being the "me" I want to be. And the closer we get to that the closer we get to making peace with things around us being unfair. We might even be able to look at the unfairness as an opportunity for growth and learning.

Did I just blow your mind with all of that, baby? Let it sink in and know that I love you exactly the way you are.

Love, Mom

Lesson #6 Equal Rights

Dear Baby:
You nod now. Before I went to my meeting today, your dad said "Do you think mommy looks pretty?" and you smiled your Cheshire cat smile and nodded. C'mon! Your cuteness is out of this world.

So, today, aside from your delightful nodding, one thing happened that is of note . I went to lunch with Jolie at this place called AMMO, it probably won't exist when you are grown, baby, but it was yummy. Anyway, while there, I had to use the restroom before leaving. There were two single restrooms. One marked with the traditional female restroom figure (wearing a skirt) and the other marked with the traditional male restroom figure (wearing trousers). There was a young woman wearing a salmon colored skirt waiting for the ladies room and I asked her if she had tried the men's. She looked at me like I had three heads. As you know baby, I don't have three heads. If I did I would be able to get a lot more done and would wear hats more.

So, I ignore her rude glare and check the door to the men's room. Turn's out it was available and there were no men in line so I happily entered. I use it. And after washing my hands I exit. And what do I see when I exit? Salmon lady still standing there waiting for the women's restroom only now her frown looked more like a scowl. I smiled my "I'm sorry I kick ass and you don't" smile and floated back to the table. And I started thinking. What was so wrong about me using the men's room? What happened to equal rights? And, for that matter, what happened to being quick when doing ones business? I swear, baby, I don't know why there is always a line for the ladies room and the men's room is always avail. What takes these women so long? Yes, I know, it's easier for me to dispose of their waste. Their appendage literally hangs off of them allowing for easy exit (by now we will have had our "sex" talk and you'll know that men have a penis and women have a vagina...I won't use silly names like dingle dangle and hoo-hoo. Although, if I did both those names would be delightful). But doing our "business" isn't that much more complicated than men doing theirs. We disrobe, we squat, we wipe, we rerobe. Yes, some don't squat. SOme use the toilet liners. If there is no toilet liner you have to use toilet paper and apply it carefully to the toilet seat which can take time, I get it. But even still, I'm not sure what's taking so long in there. Are women doing Sudoku? Are they applying makeup? Are they making mental to-do lists? I mean, really? So, in general, I urge ladies to getty up in there.

But I digress, it should be totally okay for us ladies to use the men's room. And, to be fair, I was wearing trousers today. So, I could always plead confusion, as my outfit looked more like the male placard than the female one. The lesson here? Don't make anyone allow you feel bad for doing your business. Do what you've got to do and afterwards wash your hands. For at least twenty seconds (maybe more if using the men's room--just to be safe).

Equal rights, baby! Equal rights.
Love, Mom

Lesson #5 Religion

Dear Baby,

I will raise you with religion. I think kids need to have rules and things to believe in. So, among Santa, the Tooth Fairy and The Easter Bunny, you will learn about Jesus. But you will also learn about Buddah and Mohamed and Satyavati. I won't be all religious about religion, baby. I will encourage you to think freely, outside of the box, to question and to find your own answers. I will also teach you to not be judgemental about other people and their beliefs. Cause that's not cool. You can question others beliefs but only assholes make people feel bad for believing what they believe. People have often questioned my beliefs, it's something that people do, baby. And it's okay. Becasuse these assholes will get you to question what you believe and it will help you determine what you "really" believe and what you don't. So, be grateful to the assholes for that.

But don't be an asshole. Don't use relgion as a way to feel superior to others. If you chose to follow a religion, do so because it brings you peace and guides you towards being the best "you" that you can be.

Your British uncle Jon says that "Religion is something that people have made up to make themselves feel better" and that may be the case. I can tell you it has made me feel better. When you great-grandma, my grandma passed away, it made me feel much better to think that she was sitting on a cloud somewhere in peace. It brought me comfort. And I'd like to think there is more. I'd like to believe there is a God and a grand purpose for everything. But I don't know. What I do know is that kindness is real. People are real. And if you follow one rule in your life religiously then it should be the Golden Rule: Do unto others as you would have them do to you. Whatever else you believe, that one is the one your momma endorses whole heartedly. If you don't want to be judged then don't judge. If you don't want people to be mean to you then don't be mean. Etc.

Much to talk about on this topic, baby. This lesson was too serious and I promise that they all won't be. Perhaps we should be religious about laughing. Yup, that's a ritual we should make a daily habit of doing. And that's a vow I happily take.

xo, Mom

Lesson #4 Shoulds

Dear Baby,
You took seven consecutive steps today. It started with three a few weeks ago and now it is seven. I believe that, within the week, you will be off and running. I am so proud of you, baby. I love watching you grow and seeing what new thing you will do and learn. Your latest thing is to clap your hands together and then lift them over your head as if to say "all done." It is truly adorable.

So, as you take your first steps, it hits me that this first year really has flown by. And I now feel compelled to really start to focus on what I want to teach you during your life. Because I should slowly start introducing these things now. This has led me to start to form a skeleton parenting syllabus. Sure, this blog acts as a basic lesson guide from things quirky to things important. But I want to focus my teachings as your momma. And I have started to put together a "should" list. These are things you really should learn how to do. And things that, admittedly, I can't do...yet. But I am determined to learn and teach you.

1. How to ride a bike. I know. This is awful. I did learn when I was about seven. My dad taught me. But later that day, as I was high off of finally mastering my pink banana seat, a car nearly ran me off the road. I flew off of the bike and got many scrapes and scuffs. But the real damage was done to my psyche. And, since then, every time I try to get on a bike I get all sweaty and panicky. I should have gotten right back on. But I didn't. Recently, your wonderful father found my old pink banana seat bike from out of your grandparents garage. He took it to the bike shop and got it polished up and put training wheels on it for me. And I am determined to ride again. So we can ride together. I figure I've got six more years to practice.

2. Drive a stick shift. Now this might just be moot as we'll all be traveling around in our hover crafts by the time you are sixteen. But it is something I never learned to do--even though my high school boyfriend, Buzz (yes, that was really his name), tried to teach me one summer. We went to the stadium parking at the Jack Murphy Stadium in San Diego...now it's like the Qualcom Stadium and by the time you know where it is it will probably be the McDonald's Stadium -- but I tried and gave up. And, really, I didn't try that hard. I just wanted to be smootching that summer not learning how to drive a stick shift. I regret that I didn't learn. But don't regret the smootching.

3. How to change a tire. I think I could do this in a pinch. But the truth is, I don't know. This is something that I am going to master so I can show you how to do it. As your momma, I want to raise a girl who is self sufficient and not a damsel in distress. I want you to know that you don't have to wait for your prince to come. You can do thinks all by yourself!

So begins my parenting syllabus. It will also be filled with things I can already do well, don't worry. But those are lessons for another day.

Congratulations of your first steps, baby. I look forward to all of your firsts and am excited that we will take some of those firsts together.

Love, Mom