I've noticed I've gotten better at having 'me time'. I don't ask for it you see, I just sneak it in when nobody is watching. Right now, Neel is taking a nap and Sekhar, his dad, is taking a bath. If all goes well this means one hour of uninterrupted emailing and blogging for me.
Early mornings are mine too. Lately, after giving Neel his first feeding, if given the choice between trying to nod of for another half hour or so, or staying up and eating my cornflakes in one stage (in stead of: stage one poor milk - stage two put cereal in bowl after changing Neel's diaper - stage three go fetch the spoon in the crib, left there because Neel was screaming for feeding NR 2- stage four eat soggy cereal), I rather stay up, eat and read the online newspaper.
It is funny what happens to time when you are not getting any. Uninterrupted minutes seem like hours, an hour looks like a day and although I haven't tried it yet I am pretty sure that half a day will feel like a week vacation.
"What did we used to do with our time?" I ask Sekhar during one of our evening with-stroller walks. "Watch TV" he said. Now that just seems like such a waste of time.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
No sleep till....
So I joined this new mothers group. If you hear a sigh in this sentence, you are not mistaken. It seems the cliche thing to do and it is what I wasn't going to do but facts tend to turn upside down when that baby arrives.
The note at the messageboard at Van Vorst park caught my eye. The group is led by a psychotherapist, a mom of two herself. A theme will be addressed each week I read on the website later. I'll quickly realize that there is actually no need to bring up a theme to get a bunch a women with newborns to talk.
I walk in late because Neel had one of his shit-on-the-commode episodes and I had to do a last minute change. After introducing myself I see a bunch of questioning eyes still staring my way. Should I have mentioned my marital status? Annual salary? Explain where my accent is from? My mind races until I realize they want to know the name of the little creature sleeping on my arm.
"And this is Neel" I say, "He is 9 weeks." That is about the order of questioning. Name? Date? and than I learn what is the most important one: "How is he sleeping?"
Sleeping seems to be a big and important theme amongst new mothers. Comparisons are being made and jealous smiles exchanged if there is a deficit on the other end. It is no wonder really because "how is he sleeping" really means "how are you sleeping?"
So we sit, we chat and exchange birth experiences while the babies do their usual thing (sleep, poop, eat, burp, spit, not necessarily in that order). Breastfeeding doesn't have to be excused. Diapers are changed on the floor or on the changing pad available.
As comfortable as I felt in the group, I held of the changing until I got home. Result: the walls next to the changing table are still pristine and what they take away from Neel is that he slept six hours last night.
Now if only I could get myself get used to going to bed at 9pm.
The note at the messageboard at Van Vorst park caught my eye. The group is led by a psychotherapist, a mom of two herself. A theme will be addressed each week I read on the website later. I'll quickly realize that there is actually no need to bring up a theme to get a bunch a women with newborns to talk.
I walk in late because Neel had one of his shit-on-the-commode episodes and I had to do a last minute change. After introducing myself I see a bunch of questioning eyes still staring my way. Should I have mentioned my marital status? Annual salary? Explain where my accent is from? My mind races until I realize they want to know the name of the little creature sleeping on my arm.
"And this is Neel" I say, "He is 9 weeks." That is about the order of questioning. Name? Date? and than I learn what is the most important one: "How is he sleeping?"
Sleeping seems to be a big and important theme amongst new mothers. Comparisons are being made and jealous smiles exchanged if there is a deficit on the other end. It is no wonder really because "how is he sleeping" really means "how are you sleeping?"
So we sit, we chat and exchange birth experiences while the babies do their usual thing (sleep, poop, eat, burp, spit, not necessarily in that order). Breastfeeding doesn't have to be excused. Diapers are changed on the floor or on the changing pad available.
As comfortable as I felt in the group, I held of the changing until I got home. Result: the walls next to the changing table are still pristine and what they take away from Neel is that he slept six hours last night.
Now if only I could get myself get used to going to bed at 9pm.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Week 9 Back to the Old?
In a futile attempt to get some order in the mess that used to be our living room (we hang out in the bedroom mostly now) I went through a stack of magazines.
Under a bunch of American Babies and Parenting magazines I found an unopened Filmmakers and an unread HD magazine. They seemed out of place, as if they should have been delivered to some other person, a person that makes documentaries and other video projects.
What only months ago was my whole live now seemed a distant memory. I knew I had to turn the passion back on if I ever was going to finish this documentary I have been working on for nearly two years.
So after some pumping, some explaining to the husband and than some more pumping I drove the rental car to Coney Island. I have never been as efficient at getting footage as that day. No lingering on, no wandering around for maybe a better shot or a better interview. In and out, get the job done and back home (also because the boobies were starting to explode: note to self next time pack pump in the camera bag).
I am starting to think that new mommies are not a liability but an asset to their companies.
Under a bunch of American Babies and Parenting magazines I found an unopened Filmmakers and an unread HD magazine. They seemed out of place, as if they should have been delivered to some other person, a person that makes documentaries and other video projects.
What only months ago was my whole live now seemed a distant memory. I knew I had to turn the passion back on if I ever was going to finish this documentary I have been working on for nearly two years.
So after some pumping, some explaining to the husband and than some more pumping I drove the rental car to Coney Island. I have never been as efficient at getting footage as that day. No lingering on, no wandering around for maybe a better shot or a better interview. In and out, get the job done and back home (also because the boobies were starting to explode: note to self next time pack pump in the camera bag).
I am starting to think that new mommies are not a liability but an asset to their companies.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Week 8
I went to the dollar store and even had a haircut (not at the dollar store mind you). After two months of being scooped inside with a newborn it felt like making a trip to the north pole.
It was oddly strange to walk around without the kid, or it's diaper bag. Not that I am complaining. I can't you see, because I promised the god that sends the babies to take whatever she'd send me.
She could have made my life really difficult but to my surprise she send me a calm baby that sleeps a lot and hardly ever cries (knock on wood). He does have one peculiar characteristic though: when it comes to peeing and pooping he likes to think outside the diaper.
For starters he seems to think that the wall next to the changing table needs a good watering every couple of days. Sekhar put up a plasticy movie poster to minimize the damage. This thought me that my son is not impressed by scary vampires.
More damaging though, or at least harder to clean up, is the projectile pooping he does. Take the diaper off and better get out of the way because shit will not hit the fan but you. It comes out with such great force that it reaches the ground and even the dresser that stands about three feed away.
It took me a while to figure out what causes this but at some point I realized that while lifting the legs to put buttcream I probably press whatever is in, out. So now I give it a good squeeze before changing the diaper. One less diaper for the landfill and one piece of furniture saved.
It was oddly strange to walk around without the kid, or it's diaper bag. Not that I am complaining. I can't you see, because I promised the god that sends the babies to take whatever she'd send me.
She could have made my life really difficult but to my surprise she send me a calm baby that sleeps a lot and hardly ever cries (knock on wood). He does have one peculiar characteristic though: when it comes to peeing and pooping he likes to think outside the diaper.
For starters he seems to think that the wall next to the changing table needs a good watering every couple of days. Sekhar put up a plasticy movie poster to minimize the damage. This thought me that my son is not impressed by scary vampires.
More damaging though, or at least harder to clean up, is the projectile pooping he does. Take the diaper off and better get out of the way because shit will not hit the fan but you. It comes out with such great force that it reaches the ground and even the dresser that stands about three feed away.
It took me a while to figure out what causes this but at some point I realized that while lifting the legs to put buttcream I probably press whatever is in, out. So now I give it a good squeeze before changing the diaper. One less diaper for the landfill and one piece of furniture saved.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Nail clipping
"There is nothing more nerve racking than cutting your babies nails," I read in one of the baby books.Really? Getting up four times at night to feed, that was nerve racking. Bathing him and thinking he is going to drawn any second now, that was nerve racking. But clipping nails? What's the big deal? I had done this - with clippers - six weeks in a row without sweating. Even my mother was impressed.
Until last week. I must have hit something else than the nail and his finger started to bleed. Don't worry, it happens - again, according to the book - but it was enough to bring my confidence level way down and for the nail clippers to get banished.
Sekhar, his dad, and I tried the nail files but our manicure skills are not all that so we ended up making matter worse by giving him sharper tools to scratch himself. Next we went for what Sekhar's mammy told us to do: "bite them off." My hubby was actually pretty good at this and Neel didn't seem to mind one bit (or bite) but it is not for me.
But when I got him out of bed yesterday, he had scratched his face so badly that action had to be taken. My plan of attack was to wait until after a very satisfying meal, when he falls into what looks a drunken sleep so he is not fidgety at all. I had to make sure I could see what I was doing though. A flashlight would be nice, pitty I don't have three hands... wait a minute ... what about the flashlight headlamp...
Sekhar, his dad, and I tried the nail files but our manicure skills are not all that so we ended up making matter worse by giving him sharper tools to scratch himself. Next we went for what Sekhar's mammy told us to do: "bite them off." My hubby was actually pretty good at this and Neel didn't seem to mind one bit (or bite) but it is not for me.
But when I got him out of bed yesterday, he had scratched his face so badly that action had to be taken. My plan of attack was to wait until after a very satisfying meal, when he falls into what looks a drunken sleep so he is not fidgety at all. I had to make sure I could see what I was doing though. A flashlight would be nice, pitty I don't have three hands... wait a minute ... what about the flashlight headlamp...
Five minutes later the job was done. That flashlight had served me well while filming - I am a freelance producer, a career that seems light years ago now - and it did the trick again. The baby book people probably won't advertise my method but Neel is scratch free, for now.
****
"Er is niks meer zenuwslopend dan het knippen van je baby's nagels" las ik in een babyadviesboek. Wel nu, ik vond hem in bad doen en constant denken dat ik hem ga verdrinken zenuwslopend. Of vier keer per nacht moeten opstaan om te voeden, dat was zenuwslopend. Maar nagelsknippen daar vond ik echt niks aan. Zelfs mijn moeder was onder de indruk toen ze me met de nagelknipper aan de slag zag.
Tot verleden week. Toen moet ik ineens wat anders dan de nagel geraakt hebben want zijn vingertje begon te bloeden. Geen paniek, dat gebeurd - alweer volgens het boek - maar ik was plotsklaps alle vertrouwen verloren en borg de nagelknipper weg. Dan maar veilen. Daar bleken Sekhar, mijn man, en ik niet goed in te zijn want nu werden zijn nagels nog scherper. Sekhar's moeder had ook raad: "je moet ze afbijten". Mijn man is hier wel goed in en Neel vondt het ook niet erg dat er aan hem gepeuzeld werd maar het was niet mijn ding.
Gisterenmorgend moest er echter dringend actie ondernomen worden want hij had zichzelf helemaal volgekrast. Deel een van mijn actieplan was wachten tot na een lange voeding. Hij valt dan meestal dadelijk , in wat wel lijkt een dronken staat, als een blok in slaap op bed en het maakt hem dan niet uit dat ik aan zijn nagels zit te prutsen. Nu enkel nog wat scherper zicht krijgen op de nagels. Spijtig dat ik geen drie handen heb want dan kon ik een zaklamp gebruiken.. wacht eens even... waar is mijn hoofdlamp, dan heb ik de handen vrij.
Vijf minuten later was de klus geklaard. De lamp had me al dikwijls uit de nood geholpen tijdens het filmen - ik ben freelance producer, een cariere die nu wel in een ver verleden lijkt te liggen - en ook nu bleek het nuttig. De baby boek mensen zullen mijn methode wel niet publiseren maar Neel is terug krasvrij, voorlopig toch.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Week 7
Although he was born January 31, I feel that today, 7 weeks later, I have become Neel's mom.
My love for him was there from the start but today I no longer fear I am going to drawn him in his baby bath, nor am I surprised that he pees on the wall while changing his diaper.
The wonderment has far from stopped though and that is what I hope to share in this blog.
For now I chose not to put a capital M for mom in the title but I hope one day to earn it, like my Mom does.
...............
Alhoewel hij geboren is op 31 Januari 2009 voel ik me vandaag echt Neel's moeder.
Mijn liefde voor hem was er van in het begin maar vandaag hem ik ineens geen angst meer om hem te verdrinken in het kinderbadje. Ook ben ik niet langer verbaasd dat hij de muur volplast wanneer ik zijn pamper ververs.
De verwondering is natuurlijk ver van gestopt en dat is wat ik hoop te delen in deze blog.
Voorlopig hou ik op mom (mama) met een kleine m in de titel maar ik hoop op een dag een hoofdletter te verdienen zoals mijn Moeder.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)