Finally: a reason to have a baby

Before we had a baby, we were on the fence about having children. Some years, we would inhabit the 'no' side of the fence, and we lived that. Then for a few minutes, we would sometimes inhabit the 'yes' side--a few minutes because we could never stand to live there for long. While we finally made up our minds to have a kid, it wasn't an easy journey getting there. I think we were always looking for a definitive reason to HAVE a kid, to go through all of that, to be responsible for another human being--and were always coming up short. Aside from reasons of ego and legacy, there isn't a solid reason to have a kid--the world sucks, there's no hope for the future--in short, having a kid in the 21st century seems like the ultimate act of selfishness. And the reasons other people gave me were not good enough for me--'oh, just do it, it will change your life' or 'having a kid will make you less self-centered' or my favorite, 'you have to have a kid or you won't have fulfilled your purpose as a woman and human being.'

Fast forward to now. The 'arguments' people gave me as to why one should have a kid, still ring hollow, but I get now why people spout cliches--there is some truth to cliches, a comforting quality that reassures us that our actions are larger than us, that we are somehow participating in some great human cycle, blah blah blah. Do I have the answer for you or anyone else besides myself? No, and I don't claim to. Truth is, there is no overarching reason to have or not to have a kid, at the end of the day--if you argue both sides you will soon realize that there is no rational argument for or against, there is only 'having a kid' or 'not having a kid.' That is all.

What's my personal reason for having a kid? It's going to sound cheesy, so brace yourselves. This is my reason: because life, friends, is boring (to quote John Berryman). Before Baby, we were looking down the barrel of the rest of our lives spent doing whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted--sleeping in on weekends, drinking, going out whenever, seeing movies whenever, buying things we wanted whenever, never taking anything really seriously, the ribbons of life were frizzing into boredom around the edges. In that pre-kid reality, it was the same shit day after day, with no onus placed on us for anything, other than to continue to live and to consume day after day, year after year, decade after decade. Now? I have a baby daughter, and she requires that I pay attention. Not just to her, but to the choices I make in life, even ones that don't seem to concern her directly. And time is no longer this open-ended thing that I can squander at will. I feel the flow of time much more acutely now than before, and I've learned to work with it and make better choices so that I don't squander it unnecessarily.

It is much more acceptable nowadays to choose not to have children, and that is a completely valid lifestyle choice now where it wasn't even 30 years ago. Life has progressed beyond the need for base procreation, as the impetus to reproduce is  no longer as strong as it once was, since we have reached a unique point in human history where we have more luxury than we could have ever dreamed of, and basic survival isn't on our minds, and it doesn't take 2 hours to go a mile up the road. We aren't as afraid of dying as we were 100 years ago, so without the daily threat of imminent death, we lose the impetus to procreate and leave a bunch of people in our wake. In my opinion this new childless reality puts too much pressure on us as individuals and on the significant others we share our lives with to be extraordinarily clever and interesting ad infinitum--just thinking about it makes me tired.

Having a kid is like re-injecting your life with that imminent fear of death--suddenly everything matters again. Everything is new--your old dried-out soul starts to feel excitement again, anticipation for holidays, traditions, life. I know it sounds like living vicariously through someone else, except you're not living through them so much as actually prepping the stage of their experiences. You're the puppet master! And at the same time you're keenly aware that this kid ISN'T you; they aren't yet fucked-up, haven't yet been disappointed and rejected by life, and there is still hope--in YOU for THEM. (Remember they don't know what the fuck is going on yet, so all of this takes place inside your head.) This puts intense pressure on you to make their experiences good ones, and causes you to want to do all that fun shit that your parents did with you--and so the cycle continues, but with a difference, because each person is an individual with their own experiences and thought patterns.

I can verify that as a parent you irrationally want to protect your kid from the shittier parts of life, but of course you can't--the shitty parts are what make us who we are, in the end (show me a person who has never been vexed or crossed in life, and you will show me a very boring person indeed)--but still the desire to protect is there. So yes, I'm gonna say it--I think having a kid taps into the better part of human nature, the hopeful part that somehow believes there is still hope for the human race despite the shit we see everyday to the contrary. The part that is so often a bezoar in us by the time we're 30.

There, I'm done. Take it or leave it, I really don't care. It's my opinion, just like everything else here.

Getting old sucks (buzzed blogging at the airport).

Yes it does. I realize this is not news, but it is news to anyone who is experiencing it for the first time, like me. You take youth for granted for so long that this getting old trick kind of sneaks up on you. One day things aren't wrinkled and don't sag, the next, you find fine lines on your hands and saggy parts that weren't there before (I swear). I had a baby last year and I feel like I've been catapulted into the old-age category overnight, never to return.

When aging dawns on you, two paths diverge. One, keep fighting it with diet and exercise; two, give in and use age as your excuse to let yourself go to hell. I was at a sales meeting this week, and as is typical at these things, I saw a good many people in the latter category. Women with quivering bags of flesh for arms, who nonetheless wear sleeveless, tight shirts that fit them like sausage casings, men with moobs unabashedly stuffing their faces with meat and candy like they're still 17, sad, saggy women and men wandering around in complete denial of the reality of their shape. I desperately don't want to be like these people, so I continue to fight the good fight, exercising regularly and watching what I eat from time to time. But if their bodies betrayed them so completely, who is to say that mine won't, too, despite efforts to the contrary?

Thanks to pregnancy and a c-section I now have this weird fold on my lower abdomen where the scar is, not to mention stretch marks, and though I'm losing weight, this thing just doesn't want to leave. Ever. It makes my clothes not fit quite right, and overall makes me feel hideously deformed, at least in my mind. It is a daily reminder that I am no longer young, and that no matter what I do, my body will not go back to its former tautness. And I never had a six-pack but I wish now I could go back and revise my pre-pregnancy self-loathing, bc I was certainly closer to perfect then than I am now.

This is horrible of course, but it's also life. You can't give birth and have it not affect your body. There is a part of me that thinks my stomach is hideous and gross, but there is another, stubborn part that thinks it is beautiful and nothing to be ashamed of. I know that sounds very Lilith-fair of me, but a part of me refuses to see this as anything other than proof that I did something amazing, society be damned. I wish more women felt this way. Instead, it's just another reason to hate our bodies more than before, because we have completely internalized the male gaze and keep failing to live up to the flawless figure we think it demands of us. I see why people give up after kids--beauty is for the young, but wasted on the young, and attempts to hold onto youth can seem pathetic and sad.

I was carded just now buying liquor at an airport kiosk. I haven't been carded in quite sometime, so I chose to be flattered by it. I understand midlife crises now in a way I couldn't before. Let me have just one more go at youth before it leaves me completely, that must be the driving force. I get it. Thank goodness we all get old, sooner or later, or there would be riots.

Skin care, makeup, purses, jewelry, and dildos

I just got another invite to a girly party--this one for skincare products. And another friend sent an email about 'her' jewelry sale. I'm all for my friends and colleagues being pseudo-entrepreneurial and all, but I resent my friendship or acquaintanceship being called on to make them money. As a rule I don't attend or host these parties, period. I once attended a handbag party, and felt coerced into spending $50 for a fucking clutch purse--and it was at that time that I said never again to this shit. They say there's no pressure to buy, but when all of your friends and colleagues are shelling out for the product, you feel like maybe you're missing out, maybe they know something you don't. And you don't want to look like an asshole.

None of this stuff is cheap.  I've also been to a jewelry party, a kitchen gadgets party, and a sex toy party. The whole point of having these parties is to get the invitees (aka your friends) to spend money, so if you go and sit there and eat stuff and refuse to buy, you're the outcast in the situation. You're better off not attending at all! Which is what I do now--and yet I still get these invites a few times a year. The kitchen gadgets party was cool because they demonstrated their wares, and you got to taste the results. And the sex toy party was a good time out because it was at a bar and there was drinking and bingo. The purse, jewelry, and makeup "parties" (a misnomer because they are nothing like) are usually at someone's house, and are soul-killing affairs. You sit around chit-chatting with women you barely know, and curdle as they start to ooh and ahh over the lamest crap you've ever seen, and if you're like me, you end up scouring the catalogs in desperation, trying to find something to order that isn't expensive and that you might actually use/wear, and then later mocks you for succumbing to social pressure. I have my share of stale jewelry in my jewelry box; the clutch I never use but I keep it because it cost me $50.

The only product party that I haven't gotten a repeat invite to over the past 8 years is the kitchen gadgets one--and that is one that I might actually attend! I still have/use the items I bought at the last one, and they are quality items. I even got a good recipe out of it, something I've made a handful of times since, to rave reviews. Invite me to THAT shit! But this other crap? I don't have time or money to waste on purses, costume jewelry, fancy makeup, or vegan skincare. I've already got a purse, I use makeup, do my own pedicures, and I wash my face and use lotion with SPF everyday. As far as I'm concerned, I've got that shit covered. But then I'm not a high-maintenance female who is obsessed with looking young. Maybe in 5-10 years, I will be. But for now, I still prefer cheap and uncomplicated in that department.

And whatever happened to Tupperware parties? I remember my mom dragged me to one when I was small, and they made that crap seem really cool. Tupperware I could use. But these parties aren't about selling you something cool that might make your life easier--they are about selling you a fantasy version of yourself that plays on feminine insecurities. Behind each of these parties is a question that gets at the core of the insecurity that is being manipulated for dollars. Makeup/skincare: Don't you want to look young and fabulous? Purses: What self-respecting female wouldn't want to make a statement with her own individualized purse? And jewelry: Every woman likes to feel feminine and powerful! Finally, sex toys. Instead of a question, for this one it's more like a statement: I'll forego the makeup/purses/jewelry and go straight for the giant remote-controlled, glow-in-the-dark dildo-slash-vibrator, thanks. Depending on how you interpret it, that can be an empowering statement or a really sad one.

Why I strongly dislike Zooey Deschanel.

You've seen her most recently on those annoying Apple Siri commercials (Is THAT rain? she whines). She's on a new sitcom called The New Girl, in which she appears to play mostly herself. You  may also remember her from the Cotton commercials last year, or from a little movie called 500 Days of Summer. She is lesser known for her vocal talents with the group She&Him.  She's named after the character in a J.D. Salinger novel, Franney & Zooey. She co-founded a website called--wait for it--HelloGiggles. If Zooey Deschanel has always been synonymous with doe-eyed hipster cuteness, now she defines it, it's her brand.  And now I think I dislike her almost as much as I dislike Gwyneth Paltrow.

Until very recently, I tolerated her quite well. I have a couple of She&Him records, I liked her in Elf, and I don't find her voice too obnoxious. What changed, you ask? I blame that stupid Siri commercial, which makes her seem dimwitted at the same time that we are supposed to think she's quirky, cool, and pretty. And then I watched 500 Days of Summer last week, and now I see her as crystallized hipster fecal matter.

I really don't know why I put that movie in my queue--as a rule I detest RomComs, and will only watch them if I'm watching afternoon tv on a Saturday and am too bored to change the channel and/or fall asleep. But it arrived and I opened it and watched it quickly so I could send it back right away and get  Disc 1 of True Blood Season 4. I could have just sent it back unwatched but that's just not me.

So in this movie she's a chick who doesn't want a relationship but gets with a guy (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) who thinks she is 'the one,' tells him love doesn't exist, and he suffers badly when they break up, especially when he accidentally discovers that she's engaged to some other dude. Oh and they meet working at a greeting card company, writing inspirational messages, and work in an office that features decor from the most colorless greeting cards I've ever seen (think 'Some E-Cards' without the snarky one-liners). And they both dress like they're the perfect Boy and Girl paper dolls from the 1950s. But not the real 1950s, mind you, the 1950s as re-imagined by earnest millennium-age hipsters.

No one works at a greeting card company in the 'sympathy' or 'love' departments--that's just ridiculous. If I work in publishing and no one in-house edits stuff, then I'm fairly certain greeting card companies don't have different departments for emotions. When they first meet on the elevator, he is listening to the fucking Smiths on his headphones. When I was a teenager and obsessed with the Smiths, I had a particular fantasy that I would meet a perfectly-dressed Smiths-loving fanboy in some coffeeshop, and we would both bond over our mutual love of the Smiths. To my teenage mind, if a boy liked the Smiths it was shorthand that meant he liked to read serious books, think deeply about stuff, didn't follow "the crowd," and looked real cute in a cardigan. So are we to read these people and their encounter in similarly facile fashion? I'm sorry, did I accidentally pick from  the 'movies for the lobotomized' section of Netflix? Oh wait, I forgot, this is a romantic comedy, they're all like this.

There is voice-over narration (a la Pushing Daisies, except devoid of charm) that sets the story for us, because otherwise it would be hard to keep up with the film's complicated premise. Since the title is 500 days of Summer, we see everything in a nonlinear fashion for no apparent reason--we jump ahead to day 346, back to day 1, forward to day 448, back to 67, and so on. Through it all, there she is, the perfect girl, in a perfectly color-coordinated world that perfectly offsets her penchant for retro clothing and odd tastes in music (Ringo Starr? Really?). When Gordon-Levitt visits her apartment, the decor is like what would happen if Martha Stewart and Grizzly Bear had a baby--the wallpaper is a china blue pattern, there are empty frames with artful things in them, a branch with crane origami--everything is cute, neat, deliberate, cool, original, different, eye-roll inducing. Gordon-Levitt's character says he feels like he's breaking down her walls, getting to know the 'real' Summer--but it turns out he was mistaken. Can a real Summer even exist underneath the thick patina of hipster artifice? Unfortunately, the film doesn't ask that question. Instead she comes off as a cold, selfish bitch who used this really cute, cool guy and then dumped him in favor of some mystery guy we never see, because he wasn't the "one" for her. Oh, and now she believes in love. As if we care.

Barf. It's not really Zooey that I hate, so much as this character she seems to play across different mediums. She's a paper doll girl who is just the right mix of everything. She's pretty but but not ostentatious, accessible yet remote, liberated yet modest, and has time to do things like shop vintage clothing stores, make cool origami shit, listen to the Smiths while maintaining a positive attitude about life, talks to her iPhone about playing hooky and dancing while it rains, and occasionally makes albums with the hippest hipster who ever lived, M. Ward. Oh, and she was married to Ben Gibbard, the emo king and lead singer of Death Cab for Cutie. Fuck you, Zooey Deschanel. You're not real, and you're ruining it for the rest of us.

Parenthood: debunking some myths

So I’m still fairly new to this whole parenting thing--my baby is currently 6 ½ months old--but already I’ve come across quite a few misconceptions and outright lies about motherhood that I’d like to debunk right here, right now. Here goes.

Myth #1: breastfeeding helps you lose weight. So why are you still fat 6 months postpartum, fatass? Beyonce was out in a see-through sheath dress only weeks after delivering her precious Ivy Blue. What gives??

While the 500 calories/day that you burn breastfeeding do help to lose weight initially, breastfeeding actually keeps you from losing too much weight too quickly because your body needs stored fat in order to make breastmilk. So if I’m still wiggly in the middle 6 months later, this is why, dammit! Breastfeeding is not a magical cure-all, you still have to exercise and eat right (no more bingeing). I also hate this one because it makes losing weight seem like it should be THE most important goal of a new mom, and it is NOT, nor should it be. Just goes to show you that women never get a break, even after birthin’ babies destroys their bodies. And popstars never do any of us any favors.

Myth #2: pumping and dumping. If you drink, you must IMMEDIATELY pump whatever milk is in your body and THROW IT AWAY. Out, out, tainted milk! And how DARE you even drink in the first place, slut??

This is perhaps the most ill-informed yet most widely-believed myth, and it angers me on two counts. First because it assumes that lactating women must be abstemious, and second because it reveals pure ignorance about how breastfeeding works. You know what your blood alcohol level is, right? Well alcohol leaves the breastmilk in much the same fashion as it leaves your blood, people, it doesn't somehow manage to lodge itself in your breasts forevermore. If you sober up, drink lots of water, and don’t need to feed your baby right away, there is no need to pump and dump that milk. What a waste of precious milk! That shit is like GOLD. I once spilled an entire 4oz after pumping and I CRIED, I was so destroyed at the waste!  I hold this myth responsible for making sure that women with new babies don’t have any fun EVER. It’s ok, you can leave the house once in awhile, just make other plans for your baby’s meal around the time you’ll be drinking and you’ll be fine. So in closing, unless you are going to drink alcohol and then immediately feed your baby, there is no need to pump and dump unless you like wasting this precious resource.

Myth #3: as soon as that kid is born, your life is over. Forget your friends, forget your interests, forget working out, you just won’t have time for those frivolous things anymore, because you’ll be CHAINED to your baby!

This is one that I relish attacking, because it was said so often to me pre-kid, and with such apparent pleasure, by joyless people who continue to sap the fun out of life. Well I'm here to say that your life does not in fact end when you have a kid, though it changes appreciably. Whether or not your life ‘ends’ is really up to you. Just because so-and-so didn’t leave the house from the time her precious baby was born up until he/she went to college, does not mean that you have to follow that same Puritan path, my friend. So-and-so made that choice, but she saw it as more of a mandate, and now wants you to be just as miserable as she was. The reality? You  may not get out as often, and those formerly wild weekends may now be relegated to just a few hours on a Friday night, but please do us all a favor, and try to get out, sans kid, once every few months--drink some beer, eat some food, laugh and have adult conversations with your friends--you may need them again someday, those friends. It will be hard at first, you will feel guilty leaving your baby, but press on, do this for yourself, and you won’t regret it, I promise. I pity the fool that gives up everything for their kid, b/c that makes for one unhappy, boring parent IMO. You don’t get an award for sacrificing yourself so completely, and you only live once. Take care of yourself and your relationships, because no one else will.

Myth #4: the way you do things is wrong, and everyone else is right. No matter what you do, or how you do it, someone somewhere has already done it, and done it better.
I am a breastfeeding mom, and I chose to do cloth diapering as well. If I had a nickel for every time someone groaned and/or rolled their eyes when they found out I was doing cloth diapers, well, you know. People are SO AGAINST anything that differs from the norm--this you will find out. I’m not a militant person, but I wanted to do cloth diapers, and so I do them, and continue to do them at 6 months. I was told by many naysayers that I would give it up right away because it would be ‘too hard’ and that disposables are ‘just so easy.’ You know what? Disposables are easy, that is why everyone does them and the diapers continue to pile up in the landfills. You know what else? When people tell me repeatedly that I am not going to succeed in doing something that I set out to do, it makes me want to do it all the harder just to spite them. And you know what? Cloth diapering really isn’t all that bad. The only bad thing about it is that some girly baby clothes don’t fit my little one’s big cloth-diapered butt, but I just have her wear disposables with those particular outfits. That’s right, I use both because I’m FLEXIBLE, not rigid and closed-minded like some people. Sheesh. People tend to be know-it-alls when it comes to everything baby-related. Steel yourself, it’s only gonna get worse.

Myth #5: I’ve got a baby now, so I can’t do that anymore. Farewell to outings that aren’t baby-centric. Hello Baby-Dictator!
This one I have mixed feelings about, because I do love being able to occasionally use the baby as an excuse to get out of things I don’t want to do, like driving 3 hours both ways for an hour’s visit with grandma, or attending that work dinner in the middle of the week. It is great to be able to cut a visit short, or blow off that weird co-worker’s party b/c of THE BABY. Once you get your baby on a schedule, you are a slave to it for a time, it’s true. And though that schedule can be broken now and then, it is not something to be undertaken lightly, b/c there are very real consequences to breaking the schedule (not sleeping through the night, crying, crankiness, etc), which the parents will pay, not grandma or whomever. So while I will choose what is worthy of breaking the schedule (dammit!), it is not written that parents can’t be flexible and creative with social outings and whatnot, especially if they can be negotiated with baby in tow.  If you find yourself using this myth to your advantage more often than not, you may be in danger of abusing it and therefore missing out on life (see Myth #3 above). Remember, you can get a babysitter occasionally, or one of you could stay home with the baby while the other one gets out for a few hours--nothing is impossible!

That’s all I’ve got for now. Boy I’ve been storing those up for a while now, it felt good to get them out!

In dire need of a vacation.

I was supposed to be on vacation this week, but I'm not. I had to postpone my trip two weeks to accommodate others. Why am I always accommodating others? Let us hope that I did not make a poor choice by doing so. Anyway, it is done. So instead I'm stuck here at work, during the not-busy time of year--my work for this fiscal year is done, and I hesitate to embark upon any new ventures until they roll out the state of the union for next fiscal...so I'm stuck in a sort of busywork limbo, which would have been the perfect time for vacation. I know this is a first-world problem, but it is really hard to anticipate a postponed vacation, at least for me it is. It seems like it will never get here, and so I haven't even really been thinking about it, and anticipation is the key to any vacation.

In two weeks I'll be bringing baby home to Louisiana to visit my family. She's only met my mother and sister, and that was back when she was 7 weeks--and she will be 7 months by the time we visit. So will it be a vacation? Well, yes and no, depending on how you define vacation. I will have lots of help with the baby, which will be good,  and I will be with family that I don't see often. There will be a pool at least one of the days if not more, so that's something. But if you define a vacation as time spent away from kids and family, then it won't be a vacation. I can't imagine taking a vacation without her at this point though, and don't understand why anyone would. Yes it's true sometimes I daydream about what it would be like to sleep in and not have to get up and feed the baby, but that's just a daydream, I don't want it to be a reality!

What I need is a mental break away from work, and any time spent away from work is good, but weekends are just too short. Plus I have this foreboding feeling that some things are going to roll down that aren't going to be good come July 1st--we shall see. Things have felt bleak around here for a few months now, and I'm not optimistic about the future here. It is difficult to remain positive in an environment that shreds morale day after day, where there is no communication from anyone about anything, ever, just speculation and gossip.

Let's remember why we work, after all--to fund our real lives, the part of our lives where we have control ourselves and our time, when we call the shots, time spent with people we love, and even time spent with people we don't. Hey, my standards are really low these days--pretty much anytime I'm not at work, it's pretty much awesome, no matter what I'm doing. And I like my job, or at least I used to. Not sure what the future holds, but whatever happens, I'm in it for the long haul.

Rest in Peace, Maddie

Yesterday our beloved pug Madison passed away after 15 years and 5 months of life. She had suffered a slipped disc late last summer, but got through that and was able to get up and down the stairs to outside right up until the end. She started going downhill Friday, and by Sunday morning she was listless and literally just waiting to die. We lived with her for 10 years of her long life, and she saw us through many different locations and jobs. Born the runt of the litter, she was bottle-fed and became a beloved member of the family. She traveled up to New York by plane from Louisiana back in 2002, when my mom gave her to us, and has lived with us in New York ever since. She loved sunbathing and lolling in the grass, chasing cats, and barking at anything that moved. She really loved me, and followed me everywhere, much to my annoyance at times. She didn't really like a ton of affection but she loved to be close by, and wouldn't turn down a properly-arranged lap or pillow. She is at peace now, hopefully lolling in a sunny patch of grass unfettered by pain. We love you, Maddie!

Turning 36, among other things.

I turned 36 a couple of weeks ago, and never got the opportunity to do a birthday blog entry. A year ago around this time I got promoted and found out I was pregnant, and since then, it has been quite an adventure. Time suddenly sped up even faster than before, and minutes turned into hours turned into days turned into months into weeks, and now I've been back at work for six weeks and a year has gone by since all of this began. Now I have this little baby that I get to see everyday, and somehow it makes everything less awful. I do so much more with my time than ever before, I look back on my relaxed, indulgent pre-baby life with wonder. Also, my previously troubled relationship with my mother has somewhat resolved itself--all because of the baby. I talk to my mom almost everyday now, which would have been unthinkable a year ago. We have the baby to focus on instead of each other, and talking about her is like a kind of common language between us. Recently my mom actually told me she was proud of me for sticking with the breastfeeding, because my baby is clearly very healthy and growing quite well. I can't remember the last time my mom said she was proud of me.

I am not one to romanticize anything in this life, and my overly realistic point of view prevents me from feeling warm and fuzzy about many things. (If you need proof, see some earlier blog entries.) That said, I am amazed at how happy this baby has made me! I feel such a sense of accomplishment when I think about how big she's grown on my milk alone, and every little advance she makes fills me with awe. I was most surprised by how much I love her--I mean of course you love your own baby, but I really am kind of obsessed with her. When I don't see her for a little while, I get anxious, and when I'm on my way to pick her up, I'm really happy. She's just so neat! I never thought I would be as obsessed as I am--and I'm sure nature intended it to be this way between mothers and babies--so there you go. I just don't know how I deserve to have such a beautiful, smart little being in my life.

It's almost embarrassing to talk about though, so I rarely mention this to other people. In fact, I am so hyper-aware of becoming one of 'those people' who turn every conversation into one about their kids, that I actively try to change the subject most of the time when she does come up in idle conversation with coworkers. After all, no one who isn't family is really that interested in hearing about my kid. And if they ask, they're just being polite. It's hard b/c she is on my mind all of the time, and I naturally want to talk about her, but I have to restrain myself, or risk alienating friends. And god knows I need the social interaction!

Right now I am probably the happiest I've ever been in my life. Seriously. I feel so on top of things, so connected, so in control. Even my post-baby body can't get me down, at least not for long. I'm going to Zumba again, and I know I'll eventually lose more of the weight and will somewhat resemble my former self. But the best part is, I don't even care that much. Everything is so fleeting and temporary, time just races by, and I'm too busy trying to catch moments and make them last.

First post this side of parenthood.

It has been a while since I've written anything in this blog. I had the baby on December 6th, and she is beautiful! In fact, she has her own blog, ChickinBaby.

What can I say about parenthood so far that doesn't sound like a cliche? Having a baby does in fact change your life, that is true. My priorities now center around her. But what they don't tell you is, you will still find some time for yourself. It may be only 20 minutes to take a shower at first, but eventually you will have more and more time. I can read or watch tv at night for an hour after she goes to bed, and before I have to head to bed, so that's not too bad! News flash: life doesn't end when you have a baby, despite what some melodramatic parents may have told you. If you have certain hobbies or interests, you will still find time to do them, just not as much. And life takes a lot more planning than it used to. My head is constantly spinning to anticipate what baby will need and when.

And the other thing that people tell you but that I think will still come as a surprise--how little you care about the lost personal time. That baby will win you over, believe me!

I think people who let themselves die out in order to take care of baby are doing both themselves and their baby a disservice. I want my baby to have interesting parents! I don't want her to look back and say, 'oh this is what mommy was like before me--she gave it all up.' My husband finds it especially difficult to stomach other people's comments on new parenthood. The cliche for women is that they get fat and become babycentric. The cliche for men is that they get fat too, b/c who has the time to work out once baby arrives? Well, my husband does. He is an acknowledged addict with working out, and works out 5 days a week. Instead of stopping or cutting down his workouts, he simply switched them to the mornings before work instead of nights after work. While it has been a tough transition for him to break a 25-year habit of nighttime workouts, he is doing it, and is proof that it can be done, IF something is as important to you as working out is to him.

I still have 15 pounds to lose, so I will return to working out next month, albeit gradually. My gym membership kicks back in, so I'll start going to classes a couple of nights a week at first. I can go at night b/c I will be the one getting up with baby in the mornings and bringing her to daycare while he works out, so a couple of nights I can leave to workout for an hour while he cares for her. It's all about cooperation and compromise.

The first few weeks at home with a newborn were difficult, especially for me. Recovering from a section, my body sore from adjusting to not being pregnant, plus lack of sleep equaled a near-fugue state. But things have evened out a lot, and now this is week 10 and I am amazed at how far we've come. Baby naps in the morning and the afternoons, and for the most part, sleeps at least 6-10 hours at night! We are lucky to have a fairly easy baby though, from what I hear. The next stage is to transition back to work for me and to daycare for baby, which I'm sure we will both conquer with flying colors, though it will be difficult at first.

The best advice I could give to a new parent is: it gets easier. Try to enjoy the early days because they don't last long! You will feel more like yourself with every passing week, but with a difference.