A Little Gratitude for my Girl

As far back as I can remember, I wanted to be a mom.  I wavered back and forth on my career path.  Would I be a doctor or lawyer?  Perhaps an astronaut?  Maybe I'd be a reporter for CNN?  I couldn't decide.  But would I be an awesome mom?  You betcha!  I was raised by a stay-at-home mom who actually enjoyed spending time with her kids.  (At least she appeared to.) I feel like I had a pretty amazing childhood, especially looking back and realizing how little money there was for leisure.  We went on vacation almost every summer to the beach or Disneyworld, or both.  My parents made sure we never missed out. Maybe we didn't have the nicest clothes, or brand new Nike shoes every school year, but we had a huge piece of land on which to play Cowboys and Indians, fresh food on the table every night, and we always felt loved.  I could only hope I'd give my kids the same kind of life.

Flash forward to March 30, 2013 when Little Miss Charlotte arrived.  People always tell you that having a kid changes everything, but I don't know that I could've ever expected the changes to my personality that would develop over the next several months.  I suppose our children should make us want to be the best versions of ourselves.  Right?  Well, that's exactly what happened to me.  I realized after bringing her into our lives, that I wasn't who I wanted to be.  This little wiggly person who couldn't even speak had given me the inspiration I needed to do better... For myself and for her.  

For years, I'd always been rushed.  Late for work, late for parties, late for everything.  I'd get so stressed out about running behind that my stomach would get upset.  I've always been a procrastinator, (Just ask my mom. I was ten days late to being born!) so I always felt high-strung and in a hurry. I talked fast, walked fast, and truly did my best work under a deadline.  That might sound awful, but it was what worked for me.  However, having a baby to tag along everywhere, you just can't hurry.  I never want Charlotte to feel like I'm rushing her.  I want her to grow up in a home that values her time, where she is free to explore, even if it means we're five minutes late.  She LITERALLY has to stop and smell the flowers anywhere we go.  She takes my hand, pulls me to the edge of the sidewalk, and leans in.  It's the cutest thing ever.  Moments like those should be cherished.  I'm just now, at 31 years old, learning to slow down and "smell the roses".  What have I missed?  All those years rushing around too focused on the destination to enjoy the journey, what didn't I notice?  It's so beautiful to watch her discover her world.  I've decided that I will never rush her anywhere.  If we're late, so what.  She'll only be little once, and I don't want to miss a second of it.  More importantly, I don't want her to miss a second of discovery time.  

Part of being constantly rushed is the elevated level of stress I was always experiencing.  I couldn't turn off my brain or my body.  I was always busy doing something.  I'd go, go, go all day and quite literally crash into bed at night.  These days, since I'm learning to slow down, I actually take time to sit in the floor doing nothing and watch her play, or play with her if she wants.  This week, her favorite game is "shove mommy over and sit on her like a conquered mass."  We've been having so much fun!  Sure, I'm not going to bed quite as early as I'd like, but my priorities are a bit different these days.  I do miss sleep, not gonna lie.  But before I know it, she'll be too big to play with Mom, and she'll want to be left alone.  And that's when I'll take a nap.  ;-) 

As you know from last week's Gratitude post, I'm practicing yoga daily and starting to meditate.  I love my mom so much, but she was pretty angry at times during my childhood and would take her frustrations out on us kids.  I don't ever want to do that.  It's tough.  There are days when I'm in the wrong frame of mind, and I have to stop, take a deep breath, and remind myself that it isn't her fault.  It's not her fault that some guy almost wrecked into me on Memorial Blvd.  It's not her fault that some idiot was rude to me at work.  And it's definitely not her fault that the internet connection is too slow to do anything I want it to do.  Those little things that set a person off when they're already stressed don't matter anymore.  I'm learning to react slowly, which has made a massive difference in my mood.  If she spills something on the floor, I remind myself that she's just learning about gravity.  When she's being loud, I remind myself that she's learning new words and wants to practice.  I think we forget what it could be like at her age and size, seeing so many mysterious things and people around her.  I'm doing my best to see things from her perspective.  I don't want her to see Mommy as an angry person.  I want to be a guide to her in this world.  I want to teach her that there will always be upsetting times but we have to think before we react.  And judging by how happy and fun she is, I think she gets it.

Charlotte has made me think long-term in regards to my career.  I have a great job that I love, but I also have a passion for raw food and health.  Thanks to her, I've gotten off my butt and tried to make a better future for us.  I look around and see the health crisis in this country, and I'm so thankful for all of the health struggles I've ensured.  That led me to a place where I feel I belong in life.  Since her birth, I've gotten certified as a raw chef and instructor, joined a raw food meetup group, and made tons of new friends who are also working to improve our food culture.  I've been known to reach out blindly to other bloggers online for information or just to introduce myself and thank them for being there, which is something I would've been far too intimidated to do before.  My daughter has brought out the "fighter" in me.  

This world, especially the physical earth, holds so much more for me now.  Thanks to her, I'm learning how to have a more sustainable way of life.  We are gardening, composting, recycling, etc.  I want to leave the planet in better condition than I found it, and teaching the next generation to do that is of utmost importance to me.  

I've been changed, for the better, in so many ways in the past 16 months.  I hope that Charlotte looks back someday and sees what an impact her existence has made on me.  And I hope she develops the same love for life that I only discovered after meeting her.  Thanks, baby girl!  I love you more than you could ever imagine. 💓

Life: 101, Instructor Tiny Human

It’s hardly seems like an entire year has passed.  I mean, wasn’t it just yesterday that I was singing my heart out on stage at our yearly company banquet while lovingly stroking my burgeoning belly and being kicked in the ribs?  I know everyone says that time speeds up after having kids, but I just thought it was an expression.  However, now, looking back at the past twelve months, I’m starting to think I’ve entered a state of hyper-speed.  While I miss those first few months of just sitting in the recliner and staring adoringly at the tiny human sleeping peacefully in my arms, I do find that life is a little easier these days.  After all, Charlotte is walking and much better at entertaining herself than she was just two months ago.  I think the crawling phase was the most difficult as of yet.  She’s begun laughing when we laugh, equaling our enthusiasm too, and trying her best to mimic words we say (not always something that she should be repeating.  I suppose it’s time to put South Park on the late-night-only list.)  She pets the dogs now, instead of tugging at their tail and hair.  It seems like she went from “baby” to “toddler” overnight, and I even see “little girl” sneaking into her at times.  Yes, I’m coming to terms with all of the rapid changes that this child of mine is making.  I suppose at the first year, we mothers tend to do that.  It’s the time to reflect on how much she’s grown and matured in such a short time, but I’ve also noticed that I’m reflecting on the growth of someone else through all of this… Myself.  I’ve learned so many life-lessons since August 3,2012, the day I peed on that little stick… or three. 

 

I had come to terms with the fact that it would likely be just Jimmy, me, and the dogs before I ever took that pregnancy test.  I’d decided that I could just throw myself into other passions if “mothering” wasn’t something I’d experience, unfortunately that passion tended to be criticizing myself.  I was happy with being the “mommy dog” to our (then) three dogs.  I worked full-time, went to the gym religiously, poured myself into reading any nutrition information I could find.  I was determined to achieve dietary perfection, which I thought would lead me to the physical body I always wanted.  I wanted the ever-elusive “thigh gap”.  Never mind the fact that I’m a pear, always have been, always will be.  I was born with tree-trunk legs, and that’s how they’ll stay.  I guess you could say I was incredibly vein and image-obsessed.  It probably stems from my time spent as a model; always comparing myself to the girl standing next to me who was always a little skinnier, a little taller, a little more gifted (although more often than not, purchased) in the breast department.   My self-esteem had taken many hits, and I was pretty low by 2012.  I weighed the most I had in my life, but I was still wearing the same clothes, so I wasn’t huge by any means.  I was stronger than I’d ever been, but that was just a trivial matter to someone who was obsessed with being skinny.  It was to the point that I didn’t wear shorts the entire summer if I could avoid it.  I felt like everyone was pointing and laughing at my cellulite (another genetic gift that I thought I could diet away).  I just wasn’t happy with me.  We were living miles from civilization, spending almost two hours per day in the car, and losing touch with friends as the months went on.  I was sinking into depression.  Luckily, in the summer of 2012, we were able to purchase our current home, smack-dab in the middle of the city.  As soon as we moved, I saw the light at the end of the tunnel.  I started running every morning, because, hey, we had sidewalks now!   It was July, and the weather was perfect.  I was so close to everything and everyone, and the gym, of course. 

 

When August 3^rd rolled around, I was so tired and craving white potatoes, which I hadn’t eaten in probably two years.  You may remember from my first post that at this point in time, I had been eating  100% raw vegan for almost a year.  When I decided to take that pregnancy test, I really didn’t expect it to be positive.  I had so much doubt in myself and my abilities as a woman.  I even drove to Walgreens and bought two more, just because I KNEW that first one was toying with my emotions.  When I saw those plus-signs on TWO more tests, something immediately shifted in my mind.  It wasn’t about me anymore.  I had this little life, no matter how small, living in me.  He or she needed me to be the strongest person I could be.  Baby needed me to eat enough.  It was that very moment that I started to think differently.  I started to listen to my body in a way I’d never been able to do.  If I was feeling tired, I knew it was my body telling me to slow down because Baby needed me to rest.  If I was craving white potatoes, it was because Baby needed me to eat more carbs.  My focus shifted to someone else for the first time in my life.  I was bound and determined to do whatever it took to bring this life into the world in the best way possible.

 

When I was pregnant, my birth plan was made to be as natural and calm as possible.  I was going to give birth quietly at home, squatting in a tub, with my mother and midwife assisting while Jimmy waited anxiously right outside the door.  I was going to cradle my daughter in my arms as soon as she was born and immediately breast feed her.  I was going to feel so great after my natural home birth that I’d be up walking around and making dinner a few hours later.  This was my plan.  Of course, plans have a way of going… NOT according to plan.  After 37 hours of tough, mind-bending, unbelievable pain and blood-curdling screams, I gave birth in a hospital bed, on my back, with a room full of strangers.  I was able to hold Charlotte for a brief moment before she was whisked away for a bath, measurement-taking, and the full 120-point inspection.  I was then stuck in a hospital bed for the next two days.  I was disappointed to say the least.  I felt like I’d failed.  I felt like I wasn’t able to give my daughter the start in life that she deserved.  I was back to my old feelings of inadequacy, my mind telling me I wasn’t woman enough.

 

                      "Hello, world!"

The funny thing, as tiny and helpless as a newborn is, she sure can teach you some lessons about yourself.  When I was settled into my hospital room, they brought Charlotte to me.  I couldn’t wait to hold her and count her toes, smell her few strands of hair, kiss her tiny fingers.  I sat there for a few minutes just staring at her as she slept, curling her precious lips and made little stretching movements.  That’s when the thought occurred to me… I MADE THIS.  My body, however imperfect, cellulite and all, I made another person.  And she was beautiful and perfect in every way.  She had fat legs… just like me.  Suddenly, that was a desirable trait.  She looked just like her daddy (still does), and that was the most precious outcome of which I could think.  I looked down at my stretched out skin around my mid-section and in my mind, I said “thank you.”  Charlotte’s birth gave me so much confidence in my body.  I started to see myself differently.  Sure those skinny models in the magazines have a thigh-gap, but had they endured 37 hours of labor followed by a completely natural birth?  I doubt it.  I had a newly profound love for, not what my body looked like, but WHAT IT COULD DO!  Since that life-affirming moment, I’ve learned many lessons. 

 

For many years, I had thought I’d be a stay-at-home mom, but in the current economy, I had to come to terms with the fact that we couldn’t afford that luxury.  I resented that for many months after returning to work.  However, now I’ve come to appreciate that I have a great job working with some amazing people who I’d probably never see if we weren’t coworkers.  It affords me the opportunity to buy organic groceries to feed my beautiful family.  Because I work, Charlotte gets to spend many hours daily with her grandparents who are two of the coolest, most intelligent, loving people I’ve ever known.  She’s read to and played with all day, and who else would care for her in the way that I would?  And as her mom, there’s no greater feeling than that of walking through the door after work and seeing her grin as our eyes meet.  I know she’s as happy to see me as I am to see her.  

 

"The speed demon moves quickly toward her prey."

Having this amazing little person watching and listening to everything I do has made me hyper-aware of the life I’m demonstrating.  I’m becoming a better person, and it’s all because of her.  My  language has evolved to a more “acceptable” vernacular.  I’m learning patience… oh dear Lord, am I learning patience.  I no longer rush in the mornings.  If she want to take an hour to eat half of a banana, so be it.  If I’m making a smoothie and she’s clinging to my leg whining because she just wants me to hold her, I stop what I’m doing and pick her up.  There will be time for blending smoothies in just a few minutes.  If I don’t make it to the store because Charlotte needs a nap instead, I just wait until she’s ready.  If we’re at Trader Joe’s and she decides she wants to spend ten minutes discovering the flowers, then our grocery list can wait.  It’s like she’s literally telling me to “stop and smell the roses.”  I’ve started to think more about the world around us and the planet I’m leaving behind for the next generation.  We've started a compost.  I’ve been diligent about recycling plastics, even carrying home any plastic trash that I happen to have from work.  I’m trying to buy most of her clothes and toys secondhand to cut-down on the environmental waste caused from manufacturing.  She and I already eat a vegan diet, and I’m making sure to prepare all of her food from-scratch.  It saves money, and bulk items tend to create less waste. 

 

I guess what I’m saying, is that it’s all coming full-circle.  She’s taught me how to be a better person, which has made me want to strive to teach her to be the best person she can possibly be, all while learning how to flex with the changing winds of life.  Oh, and that body-image issue… I stopped worrying about it, and I’ve lost a couple of pounds.  When I gaze into my mirror, I see a strong body, a body that carried and birthed an amazing daughter, breasts that have produced enough milk to grow a very healthy and happy child.  More often than not, I even catch myself smiling.  My new mantra is “I love myself right now, as is.”  I may not look like a supermodel after having my baby, but then again, no one is paying me to look like that.  And who are we kidding?  I’m awesome!  But you know who’s even more awesome?  Charlotte.