Shadow Boxing

They say once you have a baby, it will change your life. I must admit although I wanted children, I also rather liked my life, pre-baby. Maybe I'm mental, but my goal might just be a double-edged sword for I am fighting the inevitable all the way through. My goal is to be the best mom, but I don't want being a mom to define who I am. So far, I am indeed failing miserably.

This blog was originally not intended as a motherhood or baby blog, but looking through recent posts, it seems to have morphed into such. I'm also not sure how this blog site works, but as I browse through random blogs, I am directed to other mommy blogs. It makes me wonder if this is truly random, or have I already been boxed in as a "mommy blog"? I know that mommy bloggers are all the rage right now, so I am holding on to this hope that it's all just coincidence. My FaceBook status updates have also taken a hit, and I find myself being more cautious about what I write so that it is not too mommy-centric for my non-mother friends.

I'm hoping that it's because I'm currently on maternity leave, so I have nothing but time right now for my newborn. Maybe once I return to the working world, and socialize with upright humans that have a full set of teeth again, I will be better at my goal. Who am I kidding though? My life has changed, and I am amazed at the ease of which Diego fit right into the position. It's as if I was meant to have a child, and yet I am fighting with myself about how to deal with it.

Last month, I felt like I had woken up and had an instant family. Let me set the scene for you. Night time: driving home from a Tahoe snow trip with my husband and his 14 year old son, Mac, visiting us from Peru. Although Diego was not there, the "instant-family" vibe was. Driving in my Lexus SUV (not a mini-van but close enough) with the light glow of the new GPS system showing us how to get home from our family day trip, and a baby car seat in the back. I felt all I needed to complete the scene was one of those stick figure family window stickers (which I really want) and a DVD player playing cartoons. Trust me, the scene will be complete eventually.
It's not just the car though. The house too, has been "baby-tized". I tried really hard to only buy that which I needed for the baby, so that the house would not be overrun by baby things. Apparently, "that which the baby needed" is more than I first assumed. I slowly see myself fumbling towards rooms filled with hardened plastic toys decorated in all the primary colors. Not yet though.

I will still fight this futile fight all the way. I love Diego though. So I know I will lose.

Which reminds me of my favorite song by Fiona Apple, Shadow Boxer:

"You made me a shadowboxer, baby
I wanna be ready for what you do
I've been swinging all around me
'Cause I don't know when you're gonna
Make your move...

So Darling I just want to say
Just in case I don't make it through
I was onto every play
I just wanted you..."

Barbie and the Misfits

A few weeks ago I had a dinner with two of my grade school friends, one of which I hadn't been in contact with in over 15 years. The reunion was made possible because of the modern marvels of Facebook, the online social networking site. Bonnie had moved to Florida many years back, but she always held a special place in her heart for me and Kimi, the other grade school friend. Bonnie was back in the Bay Area on vacation.

As we reminisced, I realized what a different person I had become. I could barely remember a lot of the things that they brought up; things that they held near and dear. They were both so vocal about how much they loved "us" and how we were the only "real" friends both Kimi and Bonnie had. I smiled, wanting to reciprocate the affection and proclamation, but never really thought about it before.

I had many friends of all types throughout high school and grade school, and if I had to classify my clique with Kimi and Bonnie, I would call us the "misfits".

My "friend" adventures all started even before kindergarten, meeting my childhood best friend, Michelle, who happened to be my neighbor. Once kindergarten started, it was apparent that she was going to be the beautiful, and popular white girl, while I would be the far from popular skinny nerd. She made popular friends that somewhat accepted me, so I tried to make it work, but it just never felt right with the excess company around us. And let's not even talk about how mean the boys were.

A couple of her friends accepted me more than the others, but reflecting on the relationship, I now see that it was more of a tyrannical relationship. As long as I put up with their "sh!t", we had a good relationship. Or maybe it was my own fault, for never sticking up for myself. Nonetheless, there were some good times, though few and far between. I was never really myself 100% around Michelle & Co.

Meanwhile, apart from Michelle's popular clique, I met Kimi, the Barbie doll of junior high. She was exactly what you would imagine Barbie would be like if she were morphed into an actual human: blond, buxom, svelt, chipper, friendly. All the things I would never become. Her congeniality and harmlessness attracted me. That, coupled with the fact that we had a significant number of classes together made our friendship inevitable.

Right off the bat it was obvious that like Barbie, Kimi was living in her own oblivious world of innocence. She spoke her mind with no reservations, and I found some of the clueless things that would come out of her mouth to be hilarious. Being friends with her provided me free entertainment, exactly like watching an over-animated sitcom on the Disney channel. Unfortunately, I could tell by the look on others' faces, that they found Kimi's spunky personality more annoying than anything. This didn't bother me though; Kimi was my friend.

Kimi and I had two friends, at different times, that infiltrated our friendship of two. Bonnie was the first. A buxom, yet nerdy japanese girl with punk rock tendencies and a mouth like a sailor. You'd probably wonder how Kimi and Bonnie got along so well. Here's the likely answer: they had one thing in common, no reservations, they just spoke what was on their mind good or bad. Bonnie was into reading science fiction, and reminded me of this as we talked over our reunion dinner. She inspired me to pull out the science fiction series books that I bought because of her, and that I loved so much.

While looking for my dusty books, I came across one of my journals. I've always loved documenting my life, no matter how boring it was. For some reason, I stopped writing around the time that I met my future husband. I read an excerpt of my old journal. As I finished the entry, all I could think of was "damn, I was a good writer!" I had a point to my entries, and tied all the topics together so nicely for a finishing touch. I had to get that back! Maybe taking up reading again would help me in this cause?

I was a member of a few more friendship "cliques" after Kimi and Bonnie, including a clique of latinas, where I felt that I finally belonged at the time. The truth is that cultural similarities can only get you so far. There was still something missing though I still consider most of them "good" friends.

I've become aware that this reunion dinner of the "misfits" wasn't just to re-acquaint myself with Kimi and Bonnie. It was also for me to remember who I was back then; and I liked her. So it was that I decided, yes, Bonnie and Kimi were the most "real" friends that I had because they brought out the best of who I really was. We were the perfect misfitted clique: the buxom Barbie, Japanese punk rocker with a sailor's mouth, and me the introverted, happy-go-lucky Peruvian. Somehow in this crazy world, the combination fit, and these three misfits just fit together perfectly.

"Moms" & "Dads"

I'm an "any way the wind blows" kind of person and so it's no surprise that I've been winging this whole motherhood thing. If you ask me what it feels like to be a mom, I can't really tell you yet because even now 6 weeks later, it still hasn't sunk in. I'm a natural nurturer, worrier, and helper and with Diego I feel that these traits, along with my extreme patience, have increased exponentially. So if that's what it feels like to be a mom, coupled with lack of sleep and sore arms, then I guess I do have an answer for you.
My sister told me that she asked her boyfriend Will if he thought she would be a good mom. He said that she would probably have a lot of rules. She admitted that she was bit offended with his response (this coming from the woman that banned me from eating fast food during my pregnancy, and who won't let Will play his video games unless she is asleep, resulting in 3:00 am video game sessions). Will explained that it's because I'm very casual and don't care. In my head I thought that maybe her original question hadn't been answered. What constitutes a "good" mom? Honestly, I think we'll both be good moms in our own special ways. As long as you care about you child and want only the best for them, the rest is just technique.
Not only have I been hashing out what kind of new mom I will be these past few weeks, but I've also played step-mom for a bit. Javier's 14 year old son, who lives in Peru, came to visit us for a few weeks. He's reached a rebellious age, and he is not getting along with his grandfather in Peru. Javier's original intention was to bring him here so he could see that the grass is not greener on the other side right now. Unfortunately, I think it backfired. Once Mac was actually here, it was a different story. Javier behaved as any parent separated from their child might act; he wanted to make up for lost time.


Unfortunately, he has also been putting in long work hours, which left me to be the one hanging out with Mac during the weekdays. Having a newborn made it difficult for me to be able to focus on the new teenager in the house. Since he is a skater, I took him to a couple of skate parks and drove him to the Haight in San Francisco to buy a new board. Mac is very mellow for a 14 year old skater and we got along fine. However, I keep an invisible line drawn because I am not his mother, so we are more like friends. Sometimes I wonder if he would like me to treat him more "motherly" but it would be awkward to outright ask. Though as Diego grows older, and Mac sees our interactions, the last thing I would want is for him to feel alienated. It's hard to gauge our relationship since we don't see each other much, but I imagine he needs nurturing since his mother only calls him about once a year.

Mac did what he could to plead his case to stay in the U.S. behind closed doors to Javier. If Javier was better off financially, I'm sure he would've entertained the idea. Mac painted a picture of turmoil in Peru which tugged at Javier's heart strings. Unfortunately, instead of helping, it caused Javier to grow angry with his own father. On the day that Mac flew back to Peru, after an emotional goodbye at the airport, Javier's guilt and helplessness as a father increased his anger towards his father for causing the turmoil. In his mind he had given his family everything, including a house, and yet it still wasn't enough to make a happy, peaceful family. While we were struggling here in the U.S., they were given everything, and yet they still couldn't get along.
Javier let his emotions rule while speaking to his father over the phone, and it did not go well. After hanging up, he felt really bad having spoken to his father the way that he did.
He entertained the idea of bringing Mac here next year once he finished high school. I would never say no to Javier regarding his son, but my initial thought was that I was just getting used to being the mother of a newborn, how would I deal with suddenly being a full-time step mom as well?
Things seemed to settle down now, and Javier apologized to his father. I believe that the initial plan to have Mac complete his University in Peru is still on, but continued drama can prove to change things again. Since I'm an "any way the wind blows" kind of person, I take things one day at a time. I can't really imagine if I'll be a full-time step mom a year from now, but then again, I couldn't really imagine being a new mom a year ago either. Time changes everything.

10 Valentines' Ago

Even though Valentine's Day has already passed, I thought I'd share a quick little hallmark. My husband has a billboard where he had been posting all of Diego's ultrasound photos. Awhile ago, I noticed that he posted a Valentine's Day card that I gave to him 10 years ago when we were 9 months into dating. It was my first Valentine's Day with a real Valentine.

In the card, I was very wordy and sappy to be honest. I started thinking about this card, its age, and everything that has happened since. I wished I could go back in time and tell the me that was writing in that card that 10 whole years later, we would be welcoming our first child together. But not without a lot of trying times in the relationship as well as in the baby-making process first.

I bought my husband a new Valentine's Day card this year. As I worked on writing another sappy message I thought about how maybe 10 years from now it will be posted on a billboard somewhere. I wonder what the future me would tell me today if she had the chance...

Some"sling" we had to do

It's been a month since that little hairless dog came to live with us. Since then mom's been very tired and the hairless dog goes wherever she goes. Mom and dad keep putting him near me, but I can care less about him. Plus, he kind of smells funny and he whines too much. I don't think he's house-trained yet either. Mom doesn't expect him to go the bathroom in the backyard like me and Mokee. I made sure my voice was heard by taking a stand. One morning while everyone was sleeping, I grabbed a clean bag of pampers and ripped it apart in the living room. There was cotton everywhere! It was very satisfying. Mom came upstairs in the morning and looked upset, but didn't yell. All she said was, "I'm not talking to you today," and proceeded to clean the living room. She's been trying her best not to alienate me.

As such, we all went on a day trip to Big Sur on Valentine's Day. We went hiking on one of dad's favorite pet friendly trails. I had a great time hiking and I came back brown after reaching the river and sitting in it for awhile before heading back to the car. Since the hairless dog, Diego, was "too weak" to hike with us, mom stayed behind in the car with him. What kind of dog still can't walk after a month? I'm going to have to sniff to the bottom of this and figure out what's going on with him.


I guess Mom is getting tired of holding Diego all the time. The other day she attempted to cook a Peruvian dish with only one hand. Although she succeeded, it was a rather slow process. She said, "It's time for a sling." When grandma came over to watch Diego, mom went to a few stores to look for a sling. She decided that Babies R Us is waaaay too overpriced, even with a 20% off coupon; plus all their slings were too "girly". Marshalls didn't even have any slings. She ended up buying an Eddie Bauer sling from Target for $35. Diego is a long and lanky thing just like my mom, so she's worried he won't fit in it for very long. Other than that, once she put him in the sling, she suddenly felt free and mobile. She yelled, "Freedom!" She said it was the best $35 she's spent in a long time. Then she whisked away to do laundry, dishes, and organize around the house.

It was some"sling" that was necessary at this point.

Happy Unbirthday!

02/13/2010


A bright orb in the sky shot it's light rays through my window this morning. After weeks of heavy rain, drizzlies, and fog it was a welcome change. Diego was sleeping by my side making his usual grunts indicating that it was almost feeding time. As I got up to begin my morning pumping and enjoy the vitamin D in the form of UV rays, I thought about what a difference today was in comparison to the day Diego was born (cold, rainy, and windy).

Today was Diego's "unbirthday". For 9 months, I had but one date on my mind: February 13th, 2010, the day before Valentine's Day. I was almost certain he would be born either on or around that date. I never imagined that he'd actually come much, much sooner on 1/20/2010.

He is now almost 1 month old on his unbirthday (1/2 a week away) and these are his milestones:

• His umbilical cord fell off (I threw it away, to my mother's dismay)
  
• He can now lift his head up when he's on his stomach
• He has found his inner voice (and it's loud!)
• His newborn outfits are fitting a bit snug, so he has graduated to 0-3month clothing. He's filling out; his new nickname is "cheeks".
  
• He's already shown to be a ladies man: He was invited to a 5 yr old girl's birthday party which happened to be today (he's not going unfortunately because he's too young to be around the germies). He also had company a couple weeks ago; a 6 week old cougar (j/k) named Zoe who had come over so that my sister could take photos of her. They hit it off well.

As a new mom, I've been dealing with Diego's diaper rash and constipation. There was a day when he was fussing so much for food, but he had depleted my milk supply. I decided to give him 2 oz. of formula provided to me by his pediatrician. Bad idea - he was constipated for a day and half. His body was not used to the "new stuff".

I'm still getting used to all the "new stuff" too. And I'm chugging along OK. I figure as long as he's warm, fed, diaper is changed, and he gets his love and attention, things can't be so bad right? So happy "unbirthday" to you... my son!

Nature vs. Nurture

Diego has now been born for exactly 3 weeks, and yet it seems so much longer than that. He's taken over my whole life it seems. I can't even get a few minutes in before he starts to cry and needs to be held. I don't want to spoil him, yet he won't stop crying unless you hold him.
The nights have been the most difficult because he does not like to sleep in his crib. I'm not sure if it's because it's been cold lately (though I turn on the heater through most of the night) or if he's just being spoiled, but most nights he ends up getting his way and sleeping with us. And by "us" I mean "me" because Javier can't take it and sleeps in the office most nights. His work schedule makes it much too difficult with a crying baby to top things off.
Other than his constant crying to which his new nickname is "grumpy old man", my other struggle has been whether to breastfeed or pump breastmilk and deliver via a bottle. Most women I've talked to seem to have taken to breastfeeding very easily and naturally. I'm not saying that I haven't, I just think there are some inconveniences and I prefer to pump and bottle feed when I can.
As of this week, I believe I finally found the perfect blend of breast vs. bottle: breast during the night, bottle during the day.
Why this works for me: I prefer to bottle feed during the day and would also do it during the night, but I just don't have the stamina to keep it up. Bottle feeding helps me have more control of the milk supply. By pumping, I know exactly how much milk I am producing (2-2 12 oz every 3 hours), and how much Diego is consuming (the whole thing). The pump gets all the milk out, that Diego may not have been able to suck out had he breast fed, therefore he's eating more via bottle. Diego is not a strong breast feeder so I know that he is not getting all the milk naturally; plus I've had leaks in the night when he has breastfed, indicating surplus. The pump is also quicker and less painful than breastfeeding. I thought I had a lot of patience, but sitting in an uncomfortable position for at least 45 minutes while the baby breast feeds and holding his head in place causes stress on my body. I already feel like I've got carpel tunnel on my right hand. Another nice thing about the bottle is that family members like Javier, my mother and sister have been participating in feeding time, which allows them to bond with Diego as well.
Why breastfeeding at night works for me: By the time night falls, I am exhausted. If I were to continue pumping, it would require me to get up in the cold night and wash the pump horns and bottles each time. Then I have to attach all the pieces prior to pumping. Not to mention the loud noise that the pump makes. I also know the importance of breastfeeding to bond with your child and aid in milk supply production. Therefore, nighttime is our time.
Now if only I could figure out the constant crying!