The Cloud of Resentment

A friend sent me this article the other day. It's a little old, well, two months old. But that's an eternity when you are talking about controversies over magazines and breast feeding! The main idea is, as a mom, if you hate doing something don't do it. It sounds so simple but nothing is simple when it comes to parenting. You may hate baby wearing or breastfeeding (or any other parenting trend) but we feel compelled or almost forced to do it because, well, giant pointer fingers seem to always be jammed in our faces at any moment. The list is endless: breastfeeding, extended breastfeeding, cloth diapers, swaddling, co-sleeping, baby wearing, stay at home, go back to work, attachment parenting, making our own baby food, Ferberizing, look out! BPA is going to kill us! , sleep training, cry it out, oh no-- don't do cry it out it will damage your child forever. It's enough to make you crazy and add it with some good old fashioned stress and sleep deprivation and there you have it. Nuts. Totally nutso mama. So not doing something because you hate it is a little more complicated when you are a parent because you are responsible for another human.  Plus if they fail in any way,  the pointing begins even if it's not physical or real, we feel it. Maybe we are just pointing at ourselves but the pressure is real.

So it got me thinking what do I hate about parenting. My first thought is my two year old but that's not totally true. She has moments of real sweetness and hilarity mixed in with her particular brand of crazy. I hate bedtime. Can't really get rid of that though...I did get to a point where I just had to let some of it go so we put up a gate in her room. I hated doing cloth diapers with Callie once she turned two so I stopped. But I felt compelled to have someone else tell me it was ok. The cloth diaper thing is so hard for me because I feel strongly about the fact that we should try to help our planet as much as we can and diapers last forever in those landfills! So I feel sometimes that I have to do it because there are so many other people not doing it. But it got to the point with Callie that it was just making things so much harder. I texted a couple people as I struggled with it and  they gave me the permission I was craving. And then I thought to myself, I made it two years with only a disposable diaper at night. That's pretty darn good. You know what else I hated? Reusable baby wipes. What a mess. Loved the idea but damn Gina, I already have mountains of laundry! I will admit, I buy into most of the parenting trends but I don't feel that I go overboard. It works for us. But when I have let things go, like Callie's cloth diapers, the wave of relief was palpable. What a relief! And there is the value of letting things go. I love when the author says "A woman cannot live a life or raise a child in a cloud of resentment. Resentment is life-threatening. It's enfeebling. And it's everywhere." It is so true! Resentment is a destructive force especially when coupled when the enormous amounts of pressure, guilt and finger pointing that comes our way. So let's do ourselves and our kids a favor. Let's ease up a little bit and try to remember why we had kids. For the fun, for the love and to redisover some of what we have lost as we have become responsible adults. Because let's face it, every morning is more fun when you start it with your pants on your head or wearing a strainer for a hat,  like my girl here. 

Our Sleep Adventures Continue

Our trouble with sleep continues. Things were going well with Callie in her bed for a while and then...well...we screwed it up. We moved Lucia into her room at four months  because our pediatrician had recommended we put her in her crib rather than the co sleeper in the hope that having more room would allow her to sleep for longer periods. And since we have such a small house we tried putting her in her crib, which was in Callie's room. The first night went ok. Still 3 hour stretches. The next night was better 4-5 hour stretches. We were feeling good, like we had it under control. Which as any parent will tell you, is the kiss of death. Because that is when it will all go to crap.
The worst of it was a couple of days ago. I wrestled with Callie for 2 hours to take a nap during the day. I tried everything. Bribery, cajoling, pleading, demanding. I ended up screaming at her (again). She rolled over and went right to sleep. And I went right into my room and sobbed. Again. I hated myself again for not being the mom she needs me to be.
 That night we spent four hours getting her to go to sleep. So around 12:45 am she finally went to sleep. And then we got Lucia down as well. We thought: "Okay. That sucked. But it's done. They are both asleep."Again. Kiss of death. Callie was up 3 hours later. Bill got her back to sleep, slowly but surely. And promptly fell asleep himself in the chair in her room. 1 hour later I went in to get Lucia because she was awake and crying, so I woke Bill up, since I knew he would wake up eventually with a sore back at the very least. After that, Callie stayed asleep but Lucia was up every hour. In between each hour I was crying and finding that my rope had yet another end just when I thought I had reached it already. I started looking into sleep consultants because I couldn't handle this. AT ALL. I knew one of the madres had used one so I emailed her at 2am to find out who she had used. I found a couple of other names as well. I knew that we could handle it with two of us but with the amount of traveling Bill will be doing, the reality is that there is no way I could handle it on my own.
In the morning when I had a grand total of 3 hours of sleep under my belt I received a great gift from my mom. An offer to take Callie off my hands so I could get my rest. Sweet relief! I took the girls to our usual storytime gig on wednesdays and deposited Callie into Grandma Tere's minivan for the afternoon. Lucia and I came home, nursed and went to sleep for a glorious two whole hours! I knew that I probably could have gotten her to sleep more but I wanted some ammunition for this new battle. Off to google I went!
So now we are armed with some good information about toddler sleep patterns. The first thing we did was move Lucia out of Callie's room. At the moment, Lucia's crib is right smack in the middle of the dining room! We are planning on moving it to the back bedroom which means we have to get rid of some other furniture to make it work but that's ok. After doing a fair amount of research I discovered that  we were spending too much time on her routine. The experts recommend 1 hour tops from bath time to nigh nighs. I would wager that we were spending at least double that time, which would be one of the many reasons that I hated bedtime! So now we are working on maybe 20 minutes for bath rather than waiting for her to tell us when she was done. I am going to utilize a timer on the phone. So the timer can be the bad guy instead of me. Lord knows I've played that role enough. PJs and then storytime. This one was the hard piece for me to swallow. Being a teacher I was thrilled that Callie liked reading so much, but doing 8-10 books before bedtime was just taking too long but I tried not to let that one show because I thought it was so important. So now we are limiting it to three books at night but I am going to try to read with her throughout the day a little more. We also had been using a lamp in her room but I think it was too bright so it was opening up all kinds of adventures to her after we left the room and closed the baby gate. So now I am turning off the lamp and turning on her twilight turtle so she can see the stars. Some other ideas I read about was to just be as calm as possible when I tell her to go to bed a few times. After that we can move into consequences like taking away a blanket or a stuffed animal for a short period of time (2 minutes or so). Or because we have a gate in her room we can just let her do whatever in there til she passes out. Another idea was to give her a high carb snack before bed like cheese and crackers. I am torn on this one because the other big battle we have is over dinner. I'm afraid that if she just waits me out she gets rewarded with food that wasn't for dinner.
Anyway, so lots of changes. We implemented them for the first time last night and BAM! She went right to sleep! Could be beginners luck, but I know that being consistent is the key.

Callie's Sleeping Adventures

It has been quite some time since I have been able to blog. Sorry fair reader! But I have been in single mama mode for a while. More on that in another post (hopefully!). The last couple of months we have been dealing with Callie's sleep adventures. A couple of months ago Callie started climbing out of her crib. The girl is pretty spry and coordinated but I was worried that at some point she would fall and hurt herself, so we took the side of the crib off and bought a crib rail. Then the "fun" began. She was in and out of her bed, and this is no exaggeration, at least 20 times a night before she would fall asleep in strange places.
 Like...

Here

Or here. Hey. At least she is sleeping on something soft. Sorry Milo. SOL.

She even did it at a friend's house

It actually got to be super freaky. I am easily freaked out I will admit. Callie would scare the bejesus out of me at night. She would sneak out of her bed and I would look up and she would just be standing there in front of me staring straight at me. I admit it. I screamed once. It was like she was just appearing out of nowhere. She was making almost no noise, which is a feat for my little monster who usually sounds like a herd of elephants.
The worst part was nap time during the day. I would need a break after dealing with a crazy two year old and infant all day.  So I look forward to the time of day when I am down to one and I could focus on feeding Lucia or trying to get her on a semblence of a schedule. I would inevitably end up screaming at Callie to "GO TO BED!" It was quickly becoming a war. And I felt horrible. I felt like I was becoming a Joan Crawford version of myself. I would hear myself screaming at the top of my lungs at her, my little girl who made me a mother, who made me someone new. And I would see fear in her face as she started to cry. And then I was crying too. And let me be totally clear. This was not a raised voice. This was not yelling. This was screaming. No holds barred, top of my lungs screaming. I can honestly say I have NEVER in my entire life screamed at someone like this. I was doing it daily. Sometimes more than once a day. And how could I do this to her? How could I do this to our family? I needed to get my shit together and I knew I needed help to do it. I was time to put my pride on the shelf and admit that I needed help and I needed it fast.
I reached out to the moms that I trust the most for advice on what to do because what I was doing sure as hell wasn't working. I got some really good ideas and we are/have been implementing some of them. We are basically throwing a bunch of darts out there and hoping some of them stick to the board.
We have changed how we do storytime. Instead of reading in the back room and then trying to get her to go to her room to settle down and go to sleep we are doing everything in her room. That seems to help to get her in the right mind frame. And it is also making our reading time more enjoyable because she is more focused on the books not on all the random crap in the back room. I cleared off a shelf in her room to put her puzzles and books so her room can be a fun place for her not just the evil place where she has to go to sleep.
We also installed a baby gate on her door. And oh boy did she know the jig was up. She screamed bloody bloody murder when I put it up! But I knew part of the problem was that she was going into other rooms and staying too alert. I thought if I could at least keep her in her room that would be half of the battle. It definitely has helped. The only problem is that her door opens into the room not into the living room so there was one night when she fell asleep in front of the door and I had to push her gently away to be able to get into the room and pick her up and deposit her into the bed.
We  bought a lamp for her room. We tried to do a night light but all of her outlets are covered by furniture. We opted for an extra light because one night when I was trying to calm her down she kept pointing to a corner of the room and saying "Yook (her way of saying Look) Mama. Yook!" I turned slowly, because as I said I am easily freaked out. Obviously there was nothing there, as I told her and tried to comfort her. Eventually she said "I scared Mama." Which anytime my tough chick says that she is scared breaks me just a little. So to target we went for a lamp. We found a nice one with stars that she liked.

So that is part of our new routine. Bath, PJs, she chooses books, we read, turn on the lamp and I turn out the light in the room and say goodnight. She was still sleeping on the floor so I bought a rug so she would at least have somewhere soft to land. In theory as you can see:

Hey Callie! Try the rug next time!

I was pretty excited when she finally fell asleep on the rug!

Now it is at the point where when I turn out the light and say goodnight she will climb up on the changing table, turn the light back on and climb into bed and go to sleep.

In bed! But she wouldn't stay in bed unless she could wear her happy hollow hat. Inside out. Duh mama. 

Not a total victory, but good enough for me! Nap time is still the tough one but sometimes I just try to tire her out during the day at a park or happy hollow or something and then transfer her from the car to her bed.

Thank you Happy Hollow. I am pretty sure they could double the price of membership and I would still consider it a  bargain.

Which is funny because I NEVER use to be able to do that when she was a baby! But whatever. The target is always changing! I also want to give a big shout out to Susan Stone Belton. I got to see her speak this past week and it just solidified that yelling doesn't work. So I will keep trying to not yell and to talk to Callie instead even when she is making me bat shit crazy. I am hoping to do another post on her talk because it was so incredibly eye opening. So hopefully more posts coming soon!

Selling Her Short

Callie is well entrenched in the terrible twos. And let me tell you, that name barely gives it justice. It is exhausting! She is constantly pushing the boundaries; finding exactly where the line is. Her level of communication is expanding rapidly, but it still fails her. Which leads to normal, yet exasperating behaviors like biting and pushing. I have to constantly remind myself that she is not becoming a monster. She is not deranged. She is not a bully. She is just 2. And I can't wait until it is over! Sometimes I feel like all I do is yell "No!" or "Stop Callie!" or "Not Safe!" One of the struggles we have had over the last couple of months is that I have had to try to make her more responsive to verbal commands and instructions. Callie has always been very physically minded, but now that more often than not, I have Lucia in my arms I can't necessarily stop and put my hand on Callie's shoulder to stop her from doing something dangerous. Which has led to a lot of loud voices. But it seems to be working, most of the time:) Some days a bulldozer wouldn't stop this girl.

 And then there are moments when she surprises me so completely I think I will pass out. Like on Wednesday. I took her to story time at the Rosegarden Library thinking it could be a total disaster, but wanted to give her some more academic stimulation since we are most likely passing on preschool this fall (more on that later). I hadn't taken her to a library storytime since she had gotten mobile; she just wouldn't sit still or listen to the story. And she went and astounded me. She had an amazing time. It helped that the theme of the books and songs were rabbits. She was so happy. She even sat down most of the time.

 Except when those pesky rabbits showed up on the felt board. I could see her trying so hard to contain herself and not grab them off the board! She had so much fun participating in the songs and dances with her friend S. Thank goodness S was there! Callie loves her completely and I could tell her "Callie, sit down next to S." when she was getting too excited or antsy. Which was a saving grace since Lucia wanted to be held and bounced.  Callie looked so grown up following along and I was so proud of her I was positively electric. And in that moment I realized that I had been selling her short. She can participate in circle time. She could handle preschool if she/we wanted to. I had been really trying to be respectful of who she is and what she can do. And I was going much too far in the other direction. So are we going to put her in preschool this fall? Probably not. But I'm glad that the reason isn't because she wouldn't be able to handle the structure. We will have plenty of time for school. But she will only be my little girl for so long. In the meantime I am going to try to find ways to stimulate her mind not just her active body! We are starting a My Toddler Time class this weekend and I hopeful that it will present some good stimulation for all of us! Storytime was a great reminder to keep trying new things with toddlers. They are always changing and ready for new challenges! Good job Callie! I will try to keep up:)

Recharging the Mom Battery

Today was my day to recharge and reset. My mom was thoughtful and present enough to know what I needed when I didn't. It was literally, the offer I was not allowed to refuse. And thank goodness. For the past week or so I have been experiencing a little bit of what it is like to be a single mother or a mother that has very little help. I told myself that I could handle it, because what other choice did I have? Well it ends up I can't. None of us can. We all need something. Some down time. Some time to think. Some time to be alone.
So what did I do today? I went to breakfast and I didn't even look at the children's menu. I went shopping for me. Not for baby clothes or anything that said "T" on the label. And I didn't do it in record time. I went slowly. I went to a movie. That wasn't animated. I didn't let myself "get anything done." I didn't do laundry. I didn't cook. I didn't run errands. And then I came home to silence. The beauty of silence is one that I don't get to experience very often.
It was day without screaming or tantrums. No one was kicking, biting and pushing me. It was a day without diapers and calls for Caillou or ElmoAbby or Bolt or calls for Daddy or any other demands. It was a day for me. Every mom needs one. Not wants, needs. We all need to find a way to do it. Even if its just for an hour or two. If we don't recharge and reset we are useless to our children, our husbands, our jobs or any other responsibilities we have. We will become the definition of burnt out.
I knew how much I needed it when I was in tears this morning because I haven't slept more than two hours at a time for a week. And not more than 4 at a time for just over 11 weeks. And I was in tears when I was driving home alone from watching a movie. Alone. Because I couldn't remember the last time I was alone with thoughts of what I wanted and needed to refill my cup.
We tell ourselves we can do it all because it has become expected of us to be SuperMom, SuperWife, SuperEmployee and it just isn't possible. We have been programmed to do it all and if we complain or feel a little less than totally fulfilled, we suck at it and we did this to ourselves. We need to be loved and respected and once in a while we need someone to take the reins from us. And if it is just on one sunday in May or on our birthday, well that just isn't good enough. If it is out of obligation it stings. We don't want to be a day on a calendar. We don't want to be thought of as "Oh damn. Its mom's birthday. I guess I better call her."  We want to be a wednesday. Just because. Because sometimes we are lost and we don't know it until we look up from the carpools and the meal plans and the diapers and preschool and the hell that is bedtime.
So for goodness sakes. Call your mother. Or text your mother. Or email your mother. Show her that you think of her and give her a break. Take her out for coffee or lunch or a glass of wine or shopping. Or just take the kids so she can have a nap or some quiet time to herself. And moms, if you don't get one of these offers, make one yourself. Tell your partners or anyone that can help what you need. Even if you don't know what you need, say something out loud otherwise no one will ever hear you. And it doesn't mean you don't love your kids or your husband. In fact it means the opposite.

Saying Goodbye to Mission City

Yesterday, I dropped Callie off with my mom so I could take Lucia to her 2 month appointment. The crazy girl is almost 12 pounds and her head size is in the 96th percentile (but that's another post entirely!)
Anyway, as I was driving down The Alameda to get to 880, a route I don't usually take leaving my mom's, I took a peek over at my old stomping ground, Mission City Coffee and there was no welcoming neon open sign only a For Lease sign. My heart sank. My home was for lease! A great chunk of my high school, college and post college years were spent at Mission. I met some of my best friends there, worked with them and spent so many late nights there. I met my husband there under less than romantic ideals. I will never forget it. He was sitting at a table wearing (what I was told later was) a rock climbing helmet inside the shop. I walked up to him and told him he was inside you and he could take the helmet off. To which he crazily replied "You never know!!" I walked away shrugging my shoulders, thinking "What a weirdo." Certainly couldn't have predicted that I would have married said weirdo and had two gorgeous daughters with him! Mission was our place. More often that not, we ate a majority of our meals there through college. Mission is where I discovered just how good a hot pastrami sandwich could be and so much more. Mission was home.
When I really stop and think "What was Mission all about?" It was all about John Heller. John Heller was the original owner who found a werehouse type building and saw a place where people would come in and have a cup of coffee. But more than that, he saw a place where people would want to be. John taught me a lot. He showed me that it wasn't about your product, although a good product is important, it was about the connections you made with people over your product. People came in, I'd wager, more for the conversation and his warm Texan smile than the coffee. So much of himself and his family went into Mission and found a way to stay. From the names of his kids on the menu, Jeff's College education (a little dig to his son who just kept going back to school whether it was seminary or a phd program), Tom's 3 Pointer and Lizzie's Slice of Heaven (named for their daughter who sadly died much too young) to his wife's ridiculously good carrot cake and the delectable blueberry scones. Oh man how mad people got when we were out of scones and carrot cake! But I swear, the man must have had stock in 3M. Everything we did, we did on post it notes. If you wanted a job, you wrote your name and phone number on a post it. I wrote my information down for him no less than 5 times before he finally offered me a job. All of our coffee/food orders were on post it notes. The recipes in the back were probably on post it notes. I don't think you could find a person who didn't like John. I will never forget the day I was working with John and Valerie and John out of the blue asked in his Texas drawl "Hey Maria, how's your love life?" The way your dad would ask. We all laughed. I'm sure I told him something, who knows what was going on at the moment. Then he told us about caribou hunting. That was John. Always cared to give himself to you, to his customers, to his shop.

I have so many amazing memories of Mission. Meeting my college roommate Michelle there. Meeting Valerie there. And oh, the trouble we got into together! The costumes we wore to get better tips. Smoking outside on our breaks. Closing early because it was dead and well...because we needed to get to the bar! We would trade Valerie's coffee concoctions with the bartenders for one of their own concoctions. Working sunday mornings and snagging a scone hot out of the oven. It certainly wasn't for the tips. The sunday church crowd was notoriously stingy with tips. I remember working with Big Mike, Elisa, Alicia, Ricardo and so many others. Working with a girl ( I am killing myself trying to remember her name!) who was bipolar and dropped her medication into the chocolate one night. We scrambled trying to find them all! She refused to give pregnant women caffeinated beverages. A word to the wise, be very very nice to people in food service. They hold more power over you than you know! The regulars. Tony who gave me my first motorcycle ride. Bagel Boy. The first boy I was brave enough to give my number to, on a post it note (of course!) in a bag of bagels. Charlie. Kyle. Breck and Louis. Ike. Oh Ike. Somewhere we still have that CD.  Jim and his harmonica. The weirdos: The Ugly Shirt Squad, who we found out later were undercover cops scoping out the seedy  hotel across the street. Psycho Psychologist Man who hit on everything that moved with zero success. People ordering a non fat decaf latte that I dubbed "the why bother". The people that would be totally bitchy when asking "Ummm. I asked for extra hot?" And oh boy, did I give them extra hot!  Pretty sure it was nowhere near an enjoyable coffee drink at that point. Bill's horrendous concoction, The Revolutionary. Ugh. Disgusting. Learning that Bill and I could not and should not work together. When I close my eyes I can see every item on that glass counter. The gooey cream cheese covered carrot cake, the sour cream coffee cake (my favorite!), the oat hockey pucks, the white chocolate biscotti by Shari, the vegan cookies, the chocolate cake, the bagels, muffins and crossaints from the morning delivery, the old school diner style coffee cups stacked precariously for people wanting drip coffee. The rickety chairs, the copper bar, the pile of cigarette butts outside, the milk crates that doubled for chairs and tables out back, the kitchen where you better believe I worked on my spanish, the dirty spoons, the clang of the espresso wands being cleaned out, the cash register that was always breaking, the dripping honey jar and the sugar in the raw sprawled out on the bar.

When John told us he had sold the shop we were crushed and sad. Who would the new owner be? What would he be like? And why didn't he tell us so we could pool our money and buy it? That would be my continuing business fantasy for years to come. It still crosses my mind. Today I would buy it and make it super family friendly like Bumble in Los Altos. Call it Mission City Mamas. Valerie would serve her amazing pastries and desserts, I could do my jams. After John sold it I stayed on for a couple of more years but it was never the same. The new owner took short cuts, the food wasn't as good, the love wasn't there. John was gone. The family dispersed. And eventually I did too. I went back a few times here and there but there were fewer and fewer familiar faces. A couple of years ago one of my fellow teachers and I needed to crank out some Letters of Rec. Ugh. God do I not miss those! She said to me "Have you ever been to Mission City?" I'm pretty sure I laughed. So we went. I was glad to see Jeff was still on the menu. And Michelle's concoction, The Katmandu was still there. More expensive of course, but she was still there. John's chalkboard was still there as well as all of his vintage prints and the coffee print I bought for him when I saw it in Berkeley. The roaster coated with coffee oil, the bags of green coffee beans. I hope someone buys it and makes it a home again. Please, do not let it become Starbucks. That would be the ultimate insult to John. Especially since they tried so hard to take it from him for so long by trying to buy him out or to try to buy out the surrounding businesses, the laundromat, the pawn shop, the convenience store. I find myself wishing I had taken more pictures of my time in Mission, but I suppose its like taking pictures of the rooms in your house. You don't think to do it when you live there because you think it will always be there. But there is one picture I have that my grandma took when she came to visit. She knew to look for me at the coffee shop rather than at home:) Where she saw me and Valerie looking like this:

 

And that is how I will remember Mission. With stars on our heads dancing to The Pixies and Ani Di Franco while people looked at us, shook their heads and smiled. 

Becoming Mother

As Mother's Day approaches on the calendar, I find myself reflecting on my continuing metamorphorsis into that big word, "mother." It doesn't seem to be a change that ever ends, just like my daughters. They are always changing even if you can't see it happen before your eyes. There are lots of little changes and revolutions that are happening under the surface and then one day you look up and it all seems different. Sometimes I have little moments where I look at myself and my life and go all Keanu and just say "Woah." Or Talking Heads and ask "How did I get here?" But it is a beautiful place. It just took me some time to embrace it. I had a difficult road to embracing that word, mother, but there is no where else I would rather be. There is no one else I would rather be.

And of course I think about my own mother. I am blessed that we are so close and have been for many years. But it took on a new intensity when I was able to share that name, mother, with her. I understand so much more about her and why she did the things she did and does. I used to remark to Bill when I got home from work (pre-kids) and I would exclaim "I don't know how my mom did it! She worked all day, took care of her kids and put dinner on the table and I can barely do it without kids!" But now I know how she did it. Because you just do. Because it is important. A simple thing like a family having dinner together can mean so much.
Some things feel/look like sacrifice when mothers do it, but there isn't really a resentment there because when it's for your kids it is important.  That's why you make the tough calls. That's why you say to yourself "No, I don't think I am going to hang out with that person. I don't want them around my kids." I am happy to be the bitch that says "Nobody treats my daughter like that." Beware of the mama bear. It lives it every single mother.
She used to always say "You are the best thing I've ever done." For years I didn't get it. And I knew it wasn't something I could ask her to explain. I would think to myself "She has done so many other things, how can this be the one thing she is most proud of?" But I get it. There is nothing else in your life that you pour more of yourself into than your children. And now I find myself thinking the same thing, that Callie and Lucia are hands down the most important work I have ever done. I used to define myself as my job, as a teacher. I still consider myself to be a teacher, my class size is just a little smaller now:) I couldn't imagine a time where I would actually choose to stay at home with my kids. But here I am and couldn't be happier.

There are times that you always need your mama. One thing I think about was the night we took Callie to the ER after she got bit by Milo. It was like I needed her to tell me what to do. I was going back and forth in my head "Do we need to go to the ER??" So I asked my mom and of course she said Yes. But I know now, that I already knew the answer. Advice is what you ask for, after all, when you already know the answer. Then she asked "Do you want me to come with you?" This time I gave the emphatic Yes! I know in retrospect that if she hadn't been there or even if Bill hadn't been there I would've known what to do, those instincts would have kicked in, but having her there to help me was so incredibly helpful.
Another moment I think about was when I was in labor with Callie and she came over to the house. At that point I had been in labor for close to 12 hours and I was at my lowest point. If there had been drugs I probably would have injected myself! She came over to check on me. I saw her and just wanted to collapse into her arms like I was a little girl again. Because let's face it, when we are giving birth we are at our strongest and our weakest. Crazy, unrelenting, mind numbing pain will do that to you. Sometimes you just need your mama to tell you that you can do it. Your doula can say it, your husband can say it, you doctor can say it, but when your mama says it, it's like money in the bank. Our mamas always know who we are at our core. They know how strong we are because they made us that way. 

What does it mean to be a mother? I'm still figuring it out everyday. I always think about a quote in The Crow, a weird movie to find inspirational ideas on motherhood but you can find inspiration in all kinds of places!  There is a scene when the main character tells a drug addicted mother "Mother is the word for God on the lips and hearts of little children." Anyone that has ever seen a panicked, hurt, sad or lonely child reach out and possibly scream  at the top of their little lungs for mama knows that quote rings so very true. They may say "dada" as their first word but nothing can compare to the moment when they finally say "mama" No one can heal us like our mama. A kiss here, a hug there, a song and some encouraging words and there's nothing we can't do. 

So a great big thank you to my mom and a happy mother's day to us all!