pause: 10 months, 2 weeks

• 8 teeth!
• says mama, and I "know" he means me!
• crawls very fast without using knees (all hands and feet)
• stands all the time, but must hold onto something
• refuses to lie down for nappy changing. (see stands all the time)
• points at Every. Thing. And grunts crazily until you give him the object of his pointing
• starting to use a baby fork, even if only to stab blindly and wildly at the highchair and then fling it at a parent
• loves blueberries, cheese, cherries and whole plums (minus the pits, naturally) and natural yogurt
• wants to drink out of Your Cup, no matter what you have
• made friends with the exercise ball
• now scared of the salad spinner
• knows not his physical boundries and climbs atop of other babies when mingling. Not all the babies love this. 
• loves being chased around the house
• can put round peg in round hole but all other shapes make him mad
• pushes upturned laundry basket around the house as his "high tech" walker
• likes to take muslins and "clean"
• naps are a crap shoot and can last 1.5 hours or be refused entirely
• has fallen asleep at the dinner table in his high chair. twice.
• washing machine is the best show in town
• claps at most things
• waves bye bye, but about 3 minutes after you actually leave and are down the road
• Mark claims he has said monkey and woof woof, but one time only and never to be repeated
• facinated with cupboards, doors, lights
• starting to be a b-o-y not a baby!

pause: 8 months and 4 weeks and 1 day

I have been a really crap memory keeper.  I still don't have a wedding album, most of my photos from the last 10 years are boxed and/or stored various places in the world.  And I have not done ANY real record keeping of baby milestones. I was home recently and went through many of my keepsake boxes in my parent's basement.

a) wow, I wrote a LOT of notes in grade school
b) wow, I can't believe how much of my childhood stuff my parents KEPT... and moved ... and moved again.

I would very much like to be the kind of parent that has lovely scrapbooks of tickets and locks of hair and cute appropriate first photos -- all labeled and dated and official.  And I am afraid it isn't going to happen.  Not now anyway...

In theory, I am that person, but I somehow can't be arsed as it seems so tedious.  Can I blame not having a basement to store things?

Instead, maybe I can capture moments in time of what it is like for Lew in his life on this day.

8 months and 4 weeks

• loves toast, yogurt, water and cheese. (who is his mother) and vegetables (who is his father). and breastmilk (the kid has good taste)
• 3.5 teeth -- 2 bottoms and 1 front and 1/2 of the other front... fangs imminent
• crawling fast and furiously, pulling up on furniture, learning to fall gracefully on his nice padded bum instead of crashing with his head
• loves people -- smiles at all strangers and loves attention. a serious ham-bone and loves other babies -- and of course his mom and dad
• takes 2 naps a day, usually at 10ish and at 2ish. Bath at 6:30 ish and bed at 7 and sleeps with a few wake ups until about 7
• peek a boo makes him seriously CRACK up
• loves music and watching (hearing?) people sing
• not all that interested in stuffed animals, but likes balls, wheels and things he can shove in his mouth, which is actually pretty big
• First noise (not really a word) was BA - then MA MA (which is CLEARLY a word) and we get the only occasional (sorry Mark) DA.
• Is scared of the vacuum cleaner and my exercise ball
• Has been very squirmy but starting to chill out and sit nicely on a lap
• Goes to sleep listening to lullabies
• Hates hats
• And bibs
• Will not let you feed him
• Has a heart melting smile
• Likes to hold hands and lots of cuddles
• Books are OK as long as they have stuff to feel
• Makes friends everywhere he goes -- each line of each shop ...
• Leaves no corner unexplored, especially where we haven't baby proofed
• Is genuinely good company
• Has blue eyes which if they remain, will be from his paternal grandmother!
• Is currently called Lewberry or Lewbear
• Gets very busy sorting things (in his own categories unbeknownst to anyone else)
• Has very light brown hair and very fine and what looks to be his uncle g's hairline
• Shrieks inexplicably 
• Grabs glasses, pulls hair and bits of flesh
• Drools constantly
• Is adored by his parents
• Emerging to be an exciting, curious, loving, sweet, sociable boy -- just like we ordered!

sweating all the smallest stuff

I recently realized that I do approximately 2-3 loads of laundry EACH day. Now even including the MustWashAllClothesEachTimeHeWearsThem 8 month old, that is a whole more laundry than 3 people warrant.  I am obsessed.

I have made it my cottage industry to never have anything in the laundry bins.  Sheets, towels, kitchen tea towels, baby bibs, bathroom rugs ... all get such a regular rotation that my new shiny Bosch may be getting tired.  Ever since the discovery of the multi-wash setting -- it all gets thrown in as one. Often.

I have decided somewhere in my addled brain that if I KEEP UP I will Remain In Control.
Keep up with laundry. Keep up with supplies in the house.  Keep up with Facebook. And, well, that is all about I can keep up with.

Where did I get this idea?

I have a baby.

So very many things are now out of my control.  He is dictating so many of my day's outputs.
The baby nap has become the central defining core of my days.  Must. Get. Him. To. Sleep. 2 Naps. At All Costs.  I contort  to shush him and play the many many presleep games we have somehow adopted for hours, I walk endlessly in all manner of weather and mood in quiet (dare not a CAR drive by and wake the babe) parts of the park.  I wind down the baby wolverine from warp speed (MUST CLIMB MUST STAND MUST MUST...)  to mmmmmmmm, nursing ... to zzzzzzzzz.

It is freaking hard work.  And I find I get crazy annoyed if all my best efforts, well, fail. (I guess We WON'T BE NAPPING THEN!)

I am a crazy person.

I currently sleep on 2 inches of my bed while my co-sleeping child lies spread eagle and husband gets 3 inches. (Note, our summer project is Reclaim The Bed: a much hyped and no action item to do so far...)

I haven't dried my hair with an actual hair dryer in about (no lie) 5 months.

I am  woefully aware of all the dangers in our flat that we have yet to conquer -- so many edges and corners and finger snapping traps and climbable and pull able things.  I try to be vigilant that he is able to be a free range kid and also a safe one.

This means I am on my hands and knees too.

I got a (thank you Jesus) massage today and the therapist agreed that I am indeed "broken".

I need some balance. I need to chill out about the naps and the laundry. I need to be OK with more chaos. I need to stop trying to recreate what worked and pay attention to what's happening. My boy is growing and growing fast.  Nearly walking for chissake.

I can see how easy it would be to make my life's work about worrying the smallest  bits to death.  I could do nothing but keep the house tidy, laundry clean  and our 3 square meals a day hot and ready. But man what would I be missing.  And how empty would my life be at the end of it? Things will always get dirty again. Meals are gobbled up and gone.

I want to be a provider of safety and cuddles and giggles. And I want my boy to remember my smile, not my furrowed brow and busy hands.

Do I dare let the laundry pile up? What happens when I kill the control freak within? When I let go will it all crumble?   Or is that when space to sweat and recognize the big stuff comes in?

what a girl wants

I had 5 minutes recently and scribbled a list of Things I Would Like to Do To Stay Normal.

It was surprisingly short. And surprisingly simple.

1. Read books
2. Talk to Lex
3. Write in blog
4. Go out with friends for dinner alone
5. Go out with Mark alone
6. Go to movies on my own
7. Exercise class

Those are the things in my life I am not doing that I want to do.  I note that 6 of the 7 are things On My Own.  I think that is the theme.  As much as I love being a mom, I am craving silence in my head and having my attentions elsewhere.  Now he is crawling and seriously mobile, it will be even more of a challenge to keep my eyes on HIM at all times. 

My eyes need to glaze over sometimes. Or stare at a big movie screen showing an independent film as I eat some smuggled bakery. My eyes need to focus on a juicy novel for 30 or more minutes at a stretch. My eyes need to see nightlife and humanity outside of the home after 6 p.m. 

My ears need to be free of straining to hear a pip or a squeak from the baby monitor. Turning the volume down on all noise in the house. I need to be loud. I need to get out. 

My brain needs to express the big and small revelations of my life. Witness and record some happenings. I have been too lax at letting the days turn to nights over and over without stopping to be grateful or to notice. 

My body needs more than the endless pram walking I do each day.  Up hills. With a heavy load. I need to wear Lycra and sweat. 

Needing time as a couple. Needing time alone. Needing time with friends. 

Is simple.

They say children grow well when their parents grow well.  

I think it is time I do a bit of growing. 

double digits

Tomorrow is the 10th anniversary of meeting my husband (well, within 2 days of) and our 4th year of marriage.

Seriously.

I can't think of many things I have done for 10 years in a row, especially cheerfully and willingly.

(I have mastered waaaaaaaaay more than 10 years of eating too many cheese sandwiches and ditto on many years of not balancing my checkbook)

But 10 years of loving the same man really feels pretty easy after it is all said and done. I think, in fact, it is weirdly getting easier.  

I pay homage to how a midwestern girl and a english boy have melded their lives together and created a new one. And also created a new person too.

I remember saying that I had never met anyone like M before and it still holds true.

He is an original. A mensch. A hard worker. An energy ball. A warm heart. A cool temper. A generous soul. And now proving to be a supreme dad.

I still feel like the cat who got the cream.

ticking my boxes

A dear friend of mine recently commented that I have "ticked the major boxes" in my life... meaning, marriage, house, child.   Tick. Tick. Tick.

Huh ...  so I have.

I had never really expected to really *do* all that.  I met my husband when I was 32 and got married at 38.  I got my name on a mortgage to our flat at 40 and I had my son when I was 42.

I lived many adult years when those dreams felt very far fledged and unattainable. I just wanted to pay off my credit card bill, have some cute shoes, a boy to date and to get out of my studio apartment.  I didn't really dare dream any bigger back then.

Through coaching, luck,  a bit of Chutzpah and nothing to lose, I found and chased my dream of more.

I feel incredibly grateful to have the life that I do ... and it was all worth not only the wait, but the dream.  So often people are afraid to dream about what they want, as if it exposes the greater ache and need for more.  They settle quietly for the things they don't really want, while trying not to notice their souls are slowly evaporating.

What I am learning is that the dream is really really important to the process.  Allowing space and time to muse on what you want is not only delicious but vital to crafting the reality.  (If you build it, they will come theory.)

So, yeah, I have ticked some central and happy boxes.
Yay Me.
Grateful Me.
My life is indeed more than I ever imagined.

And now the job is to dream of bigger boxes to tick.

and here we are emerging on a sunny day

begin again

I know it is hugely cliche and completely overstated... but spring is feeling like a miracle this year.  Maybe because the last 12 months have been a whirl of wake ups and walks and feeding and naps and soft voices and all very very inward gazing. The rest of the world ceased to really exist.  

Spending the last 3 days out in the air and sun and sky feels like a new experience.  And watching baby take in the leaves and grass and the view from a picnic blanket, well, IS a new experience. Seeing him reminds me of what's new to discover. What's crazily beautiful as a stick or a toe or a spoon.  We are both emerging -- him for the first time and me again.

And it is perfect that this week I start back not only running the workshops again for Life Clubs, but also coaching.  I do feel oddly, and inexplicably ready.  Which also feels like a miracle.  Maybe because the last 12 months have been so baby and getting ready for the new world order and new scary and very very other.  I doubted my sense of self, my brain, and my attention span would be able to coach.  Or coach effectively.

I am happy that the early reports are that it feels GOOD to work a little.  It does complete the fuller picture of who I am.  Feels right to begin again -- but now with a deeper, richer and really centered launch pad.

Who I am as a mom and who I am becoming is adding to me as a person and as a coach.  I think my heart has grown a new chamber that Lewis lives in and yet, I still have room for more.

This is good news.

I feel so grateful that I get to participate in serving others to get happy. And so I begin again with fresh eyes, delighted by the miracles of my life.

why doesn't Andy comment anymore?

Where are you Andy?  Don't you love us anymore?

no wonder he doesn't respond to "Lewis"

I am sure all parents have ridiculous names they call their babies... (right???)

For some reason I can't really call him by his actual name.

Am I scarring him by this litany of handles?

And why are so many of them food items?

And just HOW mad at me is he going to be when he is called sausage in his teen years?

• monkey
• noodle
• lou bear
• sunshine
• sausage
• saucy
• sausage patty
• peanut
• lewie loo
• loo loo
• loo loo bell (Father really disapproves of this one)
• little fella
• small fry
• baby dumpling
• sweet potato
• lamb chop

fast forward

Since the invention of DVR on TV I can't stand to watch commercials anymore. Now that you can fast forward through them, it is painful to watch Live TV and have to endure them.

I'd like you all to think of my blogging absence as skipping the commercials.

In the life of an infant, 1.5 months is very very long. Many giant leaps can happen. Motor skills develop. New sounds emerge. Clothes are outgrown.

So many things have happened in the life of Lewis that I can barely keep up.

Let me catch you up, fast forward now that he is 5 months and 3 weeks old!

• we have rolling over 
• wearing 6-9 month clothes
• getting very *handsy* with hair, glasses, straps on one's bra, other babies
• bbbbbbbb, fffffffff and high pitched terradactyl singing
• infectious giggles and smiles and silliness
• FOOD! We are starting baby led weaning a little earlier than the recommended 6 months as Lew ticks all the boxes, can sit in highchair, interested in food (ours!), can put things purposefully in his mouth.

So we bought the BIG BIBS (OK smocks) and have been letting Lew experiment at meal time. So far he has tried, avocado, banana, pear (too slippery), roasted potato, and toast! Loves it.

I am filled with odd pride when I see him tucking into toast like a proper person. It is as if suddenly, it dawns on me that he is a tiny human, not just a baby.

He was to start in nursery 2 days a week and we bailed. Too chicken and too attached and too not necessary. Revisit in September when he is a big boy of 11 months

What else has shifted is us as parents. We are starting to *get* him a bit more and we are (to borrow a phrase from my pal Rhona) both in love with the same little person. It is like the perfect complete shared and engrossing hobby that you are both crazy about.

And that's nothing to fast forward. I really want to just pause.

What Mothers Do, Especially When it Looks Like Nothing:

I started reading this book when the title grabbed me on amazon.

And from the get go, it named so many of my bleary, unformed thoughts. The first book I have come across that doesn't give tips or advice but instead gives quiet affirmation to the millions of tiny things mothers of infants do...

... like being constantly interruptable, or giving the deep comfort a newborn craves, the extreme seriousness of having a giant new responsibility and no training or having zero patience for your partner.

It also speaks to the confusion, anxiety and exhaustion new moms endure.

It gives us new mothers a more realistic perspective calmed me right on down.

Excellent bedtime reading to help sanity with a nice dose of empathy.

a few for the non facebook crowd

You know who you are ... here is gorgeous boy at 3 months-ish

10 things I never thought I'd do but sadly already am

1. stop carrying a purse... wearing only coats with big (stuffed) pockets
2. taking ownership of eye gunk, stray boogies and the general picking at baby's face
3. rely on soothers ( pacifiers, binkies, dummys - whateveryouwanttocallem) to, um, soothe my baby
4. insure I have extra soother in the big pockets at all times
5. gage my walking distance by if I need the nappy bag
6. turn down invitations to a night time art opening because it conflicts with (my) the baby's bedtime
7. walk the baby in his pram endlessly so he gets a good nap, even if I am bedraggled and it is raining
8. let baby watch Baby TV (yes this exists)
9. question my choices and want to run away -- for at least 10 minutes
10. imagine baby will be a pianist/genius/president/artist/ etc. because of some perceived acute awareness of hands/light/faces/colour, etc.

intentions

First of all, can I just say how much I miss having time to write in my blog?

Sometimes, as I lie in bed for the 20 minutes I am trying to fall asleep IMMEDIATELY after Lewis does to take full advantage of maximum sleep hours, I think of things I am dealing with, enjoying, noticing about me, the world, etc ...

All very blog worthy and yet I find about 12 minutes a day when I am not feeding, (which to be fair sometimes gives me a one handed computer access which I waste on Facebook), burping, soothing, changing, or otherwise futzing with the boy.

I really admire the Moms who write. Moms with little ones. How do they do it? Check out the blogs I follow and you'll find really funny, clever and well written stuff by busy people.

So I have these thoughts and then they go ... away ... as the days tick off and the calendar turns.

But here is one notion that stuck and I was determined to use part of my 12 minutes to capture it.

In Leadership we often started the day with one word intentions .. something we would hang our hats on for the day. It was how we wanted to be, show up or create.

And I have come up with the intention that captures this period of time for me.

Surrender.

I can't blog like I used to. Or read. Or watch TV. Or talk to friends. Or stay out past 7. Or drink. Or do so many things. And when I try, I end up frustrated. Things are interrupted. Baby cries. Needs attention. Constantly.

Yet, when I surrender to this new way of life and redirect my attentions and energies and tune into my newborn baby, it flows. We laugh and smile and coo. And cry and sleep. I match his energy rather than force my own on him and it works much much better. I give up trying to do all the things I did before. But I am getting something new.

He will only ever be this age once. I will only ever be a first time mother of a newborn once. His head will only smell this sweet for a limited time. Surrendering to the moment and savouring a bit brings me really really present to this weird altered and mostly very very lovely time.

And I am rewarded with the occasional 12 minutes of time to reflect. Or brush my teeth. Or make a sandwich. Or maybe even write.

So if I am not blogging, know it is because I have stopped. I have surrendered.

And I am probably on Facebook. With one hand.

But I'll be smelling the delicious baby while I am at it.

a good glasgow day

After 1 and a half years, somewhere along the line, Glasgow has suddenly become home.

I was mighty resistant after living in picturesque Edinburgh with our homey/handy neighbourhood, wine shop 20 feet from our front door, good friends 5 minutes down Broughton Street, bus lines aplenty, award winning butcher, John Lewis and a movie theater top of the street, friendly and fantastic hairdresser 2 doors down.

Glasgow was big. Grittier. Less convenient. I couldn't (still can't) figure out the buses. We had to walk further to get supplies. And we knew bugger all people. Felt isolating in our big beautiful 2nd floor flat.

Slowly, I found my way. I found my stockists. Where to buy the best bread, who made the best coffees and cakes, who sold local organic eggs. I became a regular. I am on friendly "how are you/nice to see you" terms with many of my local shopkeepers ... even know some by name!

We love our doctors and health visitors. Our pharmacist is a gentle lovely guy. Our NHS dentist 5 minutes away and friendly. I love my yoga and acupuncture place. We are frequent visitors to the cafes and the park. We take pleasure in knowing what's new in the hood.

We walk. EVERYWHERE.

Maybe it is because we have a son now. People on the street smile and coo. (how could you not?) We found kindred friends with babies. We are suddenly part of the community.

It snuck up on me when I wasn't looking. The odd bits of life have collected and glued together.

I feel at home. And it feels remarkable.

greatest hits 2009

2009 was a big year for me.

The last few months have been a runaway train and a bit of a blur.

Luckily, I have been keeping track along the way, noting the things great and small that made me happy.

So in chronological not importance order, my hits of 2009.

1. Ion hairdryer, smoother, silkier hair than one thought possible
   
2. Double lines on the EPT on my birthday
   
3. Food processor -- finally able to mince quickly
   
4. Life Clubs Canada -- Shalom Village and Toronto! Thanks Pat and Eva Marie and Nina!
   
5. Underbates in Scotland, with surprise Abby on her way
   
6. There's a monkey in there
7. The Belly
   
8. Lanzarote skinny dipping in private pool, 6 months pregnant
9. Lewie sandwich
10. Lewis Room Miracle Transformation
11. 5 Star Husband
12. October 20 Lewis arrival
13. New local baby pals, saving my sanity and sense of humour
    
14. Trifecta of chocolate getting me through pregnant and recovery -- plain chocolate digestives, Biblo's chocolate cake and pan de chocolat
15. Glasgow Waitrose
16. Lewis heart melting smiles
17. Fountain in Kelvingrove Park
18. An Clachan café in Kelvingrove Park,
    
19. Notes from the Universe
20. Making happy, enthusiastic grandparents, aunts and uncles
21. Mark as Daddy
22. Being Lewis' Mum
    

what I've learned in 6 weeks of motherhood

1. Doing one household chore a day is an accomplishment. Load of laundry or making a meal or changing the sheets or paying the bills. The operative word is ONE.
2. Little fingernails are sharp
3. On demand feeding is, well, demanding. And leaves little time for anything else
4. Taking a book out of the library doesn't mean you will read it
5. Babies make you stupid and unable to really hold a proper conversation
   
6. You start to talk in the 3rd person to your spouse in a passive aggressive way ... "Daddy is making a mess in the kitchen." "Daddy is taking his sweet time getting ready"
7. You will do anything to insure getting sleep, like going to bed at 8 pm every night and following the same pattern because it worked once
   
8. Boobs are just food and they come out everywhere
   
9. Smiles and giggles from your little one reduce you to a pool of mush
10. It is vital to all persons to get outside and get air every single day
11. Hideous windy Scotland rain makes number 10 challenging
12. You can't imagine how any single parent copes
13. Breastfeeding may burn off as many as 600 calories a day, but eating miniature Snicker bars in bed while nursing may counterbalance any weight loss
14. You can't help comparing your baby and your parenting to other people, even if you don't want to
15. You root and cheer for burbs and farts, but only from your little one
16. You know you are supposed to cherish every minute but secretly sometimes wish he was 4, potty trained and could chat with you
17. Fashion goes by the way of easy-access-breast-whipping out tops
18. Sleeping on your stomach is as lovely as you remember
19. You find yourself squeezing your boobs in public without a second thought to check which one is fullest
20. Watching your son and your husband smile at each other gives you utter blissful feelings
21. You still can't believe this small person is yours and wonder when the grown ups are going to show up
22. Hours fly by like minutes when you are having quiet time staring at the little one
23. You do indeed check to make sure he is breathing if things have been too blissfully quiet for too long
24. You envy the baby's adorable snugly outfits and wish you could pull them off
25. When you get even a moment, you realise how happy you are
    

what is oddly surprising to me

• That new parents REALLY do not sleep. I know it was mentioned, but somehow it never really hit home.
• That I -- a 9-10-hour-in love-with-my-bed sleeper -- is surviving *barely* on 5-7 hours of broken sleep.
• That "Sleep When He Sleeps" would be hard. I lov(ed) naps and prided myself on my ability to sleep easily. Now if I try to catch an hour or so when the monkey is post feed dozing, I lie awake in stiff hyper vigilance, awaiting the inevitable whimper before it becomes murderess cry, twitching with exhaustion.
  
• Murderous cry ... all the midwives in the hospital and home visits have remarked on his "powerful cry" ... it makes your guts churn and your heart break. We know when he has something to say.
• Home visits! Good NHS ... we had a midwife/saviour visit our home nearly every day for the first 10 days. What a god-send to have a nice lady come and weight your babe, answer all your ridiculous questions, show you what you are doing wrong w your breastfeeding, and generally make you feel competent. Now we have a health home visitor nurse who checks in on us until we are ready to start going to the Doctor office. Amazing service!
• My own melt down hour happens at 5-7 pm when it gets dark, I am still exhausted by the night before and worried about the night ahead. Especially if I had a failed Sleep When He Sleeps nap. Cue the tears and the anxiety.
  
• Every morning I want to get out of bed, shower, put on real clothes, lipstick and participate in the world. If it wasn't so daunting.
  
• Vulnerability. Hormones. Sleep Deprivation. All make me very needy spouse clinging for all support.
  
• Missing 1:1 husband time. Already. When do we get to focus on each other? I didn't realise how important that is to my well being. I rely on it!
  
• 2 weeks post birth and my body is shrinking back. THAT feels amazing!
• Watching Mark with the boy makes my heart grow 10 times over
• No shame. After c section and lots of breastfeeding lessons, 5 day hospital stay, I am far less shy about my body then pre babe. It has a different purpose now.
• How fun it is to get to know our boy... his funny noises and freakishly strong arms, his serious old man expressions and his eyes as they occasionally make the focus to my face with vague recognition. He is delicious.
  
• How I feel my molecules rearranging into something new, different and unknown. Motherhood.
  

12 days after birth

• eyelashes coming in
• sleeping 3.5- 6 hours at a shot
• gaining 2 oz a day
• outgrowing smallest outfits
• discovering and admitting my own melt down hour
• trying desperately to sleep when he sleeps and insure a daytime nap
  
• seeing Mark as baby whisperer and ultimate Lewis calmer
  
• witnessing more consciousness emerge when we lock eyes
  
• adorable baby sneezes and hiccups
• setting up nursing station with laptop, jug of water, ipod, pillows, remote, blankets, house phone, reading material, snax and mobile phone.
  
• giving up being house chef and laundry folder to allow Mark to showcase his skills
• out and about in slings -- enduring the curious stares -- and questions "is that a dog in there? you shouldn't carry a dog like that."
• being in charge of Input and Mark in charge of Output (wonder how long I can get away with that one)
• feeding like a champ. both of us
• falling more in love everyday
  

8 days after birth

1. I can sleep on my back. ALMOST on my stomach
2. I can turn over in bed!
   
3. I can put on my OWN socks and shoes!
4. My shoes FIT!
   
5. No more carpel tunnel - watch me make a fist!
   
6. 1000% less puffy, but no wedding ring yet (booo!)
   
7. Innards straightened out, room for all the important organs who have been squished
   
8. No more heartburn!
9. Runny eggs
10. All the smelliest softest cheeses
11. As soon as I am off pain killers - moderate WINE!!
12. Close hugs with the husband
13. pregnancy hair and nails still nice
14. perma bra at all times
15. everyone smells like sweet condensed milk
16. blankets, muslin squares and glasses of water everywhere I sit
17. held captive to a nursing position
18. deep need for pastries
19. short attention span
20. dream of leaving house some day
21. dream of talking on phone some day
22. thankful for wifi, laptop and internet and itunes for small hours
    
23. getting better every day!
    

Finally. Deliriously. Happily. Here.

The wait is over.
The boy has arrived.

He waited and waited.
And we waited and waited.
It was hard.
16 days.
An unsuccessful induction.
Raging hormones.
Fear and stress.
A scary 5 day hospital stay.
And finally we went to go get 'em.
A very successful C- section.

And now he is here and the memory of how he got here is fading as is the first scary sleepless nights.
He is one week new.
And all I see is soft milky boy
Sweet and light and love

Lewis, we are glad to have you
Welcome to us
Welcome to the world
We are all the better with you here

Dear L

Dear L-

Where are you?

I thought you would be here by now.

I don't know why, but I imagined you coming in right at the date the doctor's predicted.

But here it is 8 days later and you seem completely happy in your watery world. I am so glad you are comfortable.

And I need to tell you we are really excited for you to come out.

Not just because I can barely waddle up the stairs. Or I can't wear any of my shoes any more. Or because I really want to drink red wine. Or because your grandparents are here now. Or even because I am tired of carrying you.

It may sound cliché, even to your young ears. But it is purely because of you, little boy.

We want to meet you. And show you the world. And take care of you. And see your little face and give you many cuddles and kisses. I am ready to be your mom and your dad is ready to be your dad.

So know that.

Come when you are ready.

And know that we are ready.

For you.

Love from your mom

Circling Houston

Exactly 5 years ago, I moved to the UK for a new life.

I didn't have the easiest time getting INTO the UK (if anyone remembers my melt down and near denial of entry at Heathrow Immigration).

And now, exactly 5 years later, I am due another chapter.

Today is my due date for entry into another new foreign country -- motherhood.

After 40 weeks of pregnancy, I feel like I have been on a very long flight and have been able to occupy myself just fine -- reading, sleeping, music, snacking, looking out the windows, chatting with fellow passengers, etc. And now it is time to land and we are near the airport but are circling over and over, awaiting clearance. Circling Houston.

I am uncomfortable. I want to stretch out. I am out of chat, out of magazines and out of patience. I want to land. I want to BE there.

Unlike me in 2004, I am very hopeful that Lewis will seamlessly enter this world with all his papers in order and will be greeted with smiles and warm welcomes without a hitch.

He may come today -- or not... we all know the art not the science of predicting due dates.

What I do know (in my most southernly regions and in my heart) that he IS coming.

I just need to calm myself the heck down and reread the Skymall catalog. They have some nifty things in there.

And the next chapter is about to begin.

I wonder

I wonder when I will go into labour
I wonder if I will go into labour or if I will have to have something *done* to jump start it
I wonder how I'll cope -- quietly? swearing? not at all? like a champ?
I wonder if I will end up with a C section
I wonder how much L will weigh
I wonder if he will have hair when he comes out
I wonder what it will be like to be someone's mother
I wonder if I will become one of those mothers who becomes obsessed with all things related to her child
I wonder if I will get bored
I wonder how M & I will trade off and work together on being parents
I wonder if I will want to go back to work straight away. Or never.
I wonder what real sleep deprivation would do to me
I wonder if I can get away with not having sleep deprivation
I wonder if I'll be a natural or if everything will feel foreign
I wonder if I will still want to watch all my favourite TV shows and if I will have time
I wonder if I will be able to read
I wonder what it will be like to drink again. And eat runny eggs and sushi.
I wonder if diaper changing will infiltrate my dreams
I wonder when my wedding rings will fit again
I wonder what breast feeding will be like
I wonder what it will be like to go out into the world for the first time with L by myself
I wonder if I will be a freaky worried mom
I wonder if I will want to do it again. Or never.
I wonder if I will ever stop wondering.

38 weeks, 5 days!

And here is how it all looks ...
Waddling has commenced.

the waiting is the hardest part

Sorry Tom Petty. Even as I write that I am not sure that it is strictly true for me.

Yes. It is a little weird to live in suspended anticipation. Like waiting for a package to arrive. A flight to land. The cable guy. An important phone call.

All to come out the bottom end of your body.

Yes. I am helpless to retrieve anything at my feet. Put on my shoes. Walk very far without huffing. Eat very much without reaching for the Gaviscon. Turn over in bed without a project plan and a crane.

My body is very very full. And tired.

Yes. The novelty of pregnancy has worn off a while ago. The sympathy and the empathy and the extra attention has waned. My general crankiness and body woes are old news.

My body is over it.

But somehow, I am still finding small things to do. Today I am making my play lists for labour! Chill CDs and UpBeat CDs! Who knows if I will actually use them, but is sure fun to choose what songs I imagine will make me mellow and breathe and which will spur me on to Keep Going.

I am washing all the wee clothes and blankets.
I am piling more things on the Hospital Bag Pile.
I am having Coffee Dates with Pregnant Pals. (I have never been so popular).
I am reading novels by the boatload.
I am seeing movies.
I am taking naps.
I am downloading Feeding and Diaper tracking apps for my iPhone.

Yet I know the time is coming near. And not just because people who were due before me have now HAD their babies. (which is a pretty loud wake up call). I can feel my body changing. Things shifting south. My hormones cranking up. Odd things making me irritable. Odd things making me cling to Mark.

SO waiting so far is hard. But not the hardest part.

I have a sneaky suspicion that is still to come. The labour. The delivery. The coming home as parents. The enormous change that I am standing at the precipice of. The responsibility. The heartbreaking love I am already having for my boy.

What I can do now is be calm about that.

And not freak.

Be excited that our boy is coming very soon.

And breathe.

prepare yee

When I was in Leadership, Karen Kimsey House said something that really stuck with me. (Well, she said many things that stuck, but this one is germane to this here.)

Planning is often pointless -- things rarely go the way you anticipate. But what you can do is prepare. Prepare and dance with whatever shows up.

This has become my mantra and outlook on birth. I am preparing. Preparing the room, preparing my body, preparing the *stuff*, preparing the rest of my life to slow down, preparing help, preparing my energy levels. Doing what I can do.

I don't know how this boy will come into the world. I have thoroughly thought about the preferences on how I'd LIKE it to go. I've outlined my preferences. And at the end of the day, I have to allow what is going to happen to happen. The truest definition of dancing in the moment I can think of.

I have been getting a lot of Leadership lessons flashing into this experience. Asking for help. Trusting my body. Leaning in 100% to Mark, to my child, my body. Operating with intention. Not getting hung up on the particles (oh so hard not to do) and keeping my stake really clear. Creating space in the level 3. And a bit of failing, recovering and staying.

Who knew all those lessons from last year would come in such waves for me now. I think of the ropes courses we did and I know I can trust my body to deliver what it needs to. To tap into inner wisdom. I have my belay team. They have my rope. And I have me.

Something else Karen said also keeps going through my mind.

There will be a time to get nervous and it isn't yet. I'll let you know when.

Kinder words could not be spoken at the time of serious nerves and fear.

And taking that lesson to heart, I am just not going to get nervous yet.

Lewis will tell me when. And I can tell he is already a pretty smart kid.

ready for action

Wouldn't you like to sleep here?
Sunny lemonade walls and crisp white things?
New and shiny.
At long last the junk room is no more.
100% baby ready.
Alls we need is the kid!
And 4 more weeks of baking the bun.

Nearly

At 36 weeks into this whole Creating a Person Project, it is really starting to look like it is all going to come together.

This weekend, we got the crib/cot ... and watching Mark put it together really hit it all the way home. I mean, he has put together ALL the furniture in our lives and houses, but for some reason, the crib... the crib... wow.

I felt a little like we are in a movie of our lives with a happy soft rock soundtrack playing and featuring snapshots of moments like that one.

So we are getting as ready as one can.

And have created a place I would be happy to sleep in if I was a babe -- sunny, bright, clean, comfortable, quiet, safe and cozy.

It is weird/lovely that we are having someone move in with us. A new person. Who is part of us. Who is OF Us. And is going to up-end all we know about ourselves and our world.

How does anyone really get ready for that?

Open. Curious. In the moment. Intent. Surrender. Clean. Organize. Sleep. Read. Laugh. Rub belly. Kiss husband. Appreciate.

Oh yeah, and wait.

35 weeks

And this is how it all looks at 35 weeks!

Slowing down my slow down.

Life Clubs is passed over for now.

A few clients to finish for now.

Lists to make.

Naps to take.

Worries to abate.

Things for the freezer to create.

Time to pull my weight.

OK, I am out of rhymes. But not things to do.

Lots we still need to "get". And several hospital things to "iron out".

Simultaneously wanting the time to go faster and also stop all together. Ready and Not At All.

An interesting paradox. I am guessing/hoping that one of those will win out sooner or later.

My Life According to the Indigo Girls

Several bloggers are posting their life according to their favourite artist.

The Indigo Girls have always been able to pour emotions into their songs in a way that makes me want to sing them at the top of my lungs.

Give it a go with your fav artist!

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions.

Pick your Artist: Indigo Girls

Are you a man or a woman: Girl With The Weight Of The World In Her Hands

Describe yourself: Closer to Fine

How do you feel: Make It Easier

Describe where you currently live: Get out the Map

If you could go anywhere, where would you go? Southland In The Springtime

Your favorite form of transportation: Least Complicated

Your best friend? Hey Kind Friend

You and your best friends are: Strange Fire

What's the weather like: None But The Rain

Favorite time of day: Killing Time

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called: Power of Two

What is life to you? Hand In Hand

Your fear: Kid Fears

What is the best advice you have to give: Love Will Come to You

Thought for the Day: The Water is Wide

How I would like to die: Welcome Me

My soul's present condition: Free Through Eternity

My motto: Make This House A Home

slow ride (take it ea-say)

And suddenly.

It slows.

After what felt like a cafuffal of a last few weeks, I suddenly can see some space beginning to emerge in my head.

It is lovely.
The slow down has begun.
And I am grateful for it.

• Midst switching hospitals. (which feels like a huge relief)
  
• Starting to close down my Life Clubs shop (or pass the baton) only one more until post baby.
• Heeding my primal needs to eat and sleep in frequent bursts. (never underestimating the power of toast)
  
• Trying not to catch Mark's cold. (which is tricky as it requires a wide berth and no cuddles)
• Doing some bonding with other pregnant people we've been lucky to meet through our classes the last 2 weekends.
• Getting good, belly laugh and compassionate chat with my pregnant yoga pal -- who I am happily drafting off of, sharing a doula and a soon a hospital. Boys bonding over beers and buildings.
  
• Making lists of (probably) ridiculous things.
• Amazed at the longest, strongest nails of my life.
• Wondering why after a blissfully headache free 8 months, my head has decided to start to hurt again
• Spending time WATCHING my belly as Lewis rolls around, alien-style, contorting in ways that entertain.
  

Looking forward to an even blanker September.

And for extra measure, am checking out the (hilarious) International Institute of Not Doing Much.

Which I think everyone should consider belonging to for the rest of the summer.

33 weeks

In all my blooming glory.

(Standing, please note, in the FINISHED baby room. Well done to my dream boat, perfectionist and 110% giver Mark!!!)

winning words

I was given this little award by a dear fellow blogger and am dead chuffed.

Even though I've been blogging for a while, I was totally ignorant to all the funny, clever, poignant blogging going on out there.

People following each other and giving each other kudos and recognition feels really nice and neighbourly. And inspires one to keep writing - take time to stop and be thoughtful and conjure up an angle, a perspective to review.

So even though I don't follow many blogs - I am hereby passing the good vibe and nominating the ones I most religiously go to for my daily dose.

Here's to your continued brain power, vulnerability, commitment and sharing with the world!

• Moderation 1/3 - 2/3 - to Henry who inspires way beyond, in every aspect. Thank you Diamond Bear.
• Life Clubs - A Clearer Way of Thinking - for Nina who relentlessly champions people having better lives.
• clueless but hopeful mama - who I found when I was newly pregnant, and whose insight and heart cheers me.
  

Thank you and your words. They matter.

(scary) (perhaps) cultural difference

(this is amended)

Outside my (current, hopefully not for much longer) maternity hospital.

Woman in her nightgown and robe, clearly in the early stages of labour, standing outside to have a cigarette.

Sums up much of the health attitude here.

Different and somewhat Mortifying.


***********
P.S. As an amendment to this posting, it not that women in the US don't smoke while pregnant, it is perhaps that they hide it more. This is in no way meant to slander my adopted home of bonnie Scotland, where I have been welcomed so nicely. It is perhaps more of a reflection of the specific neighbourhood and attitude of certain areas in Glasgow.

(am I out of trouble now?)

Doula Done Deal

Happy to report we have *hired* our doula. She's a trainee, but exudes a comfortable and confident vibe and has given birth twice at our hospital. She has a famous Scottish Dad too- but that is oddly not my headline news.

What is new is that I feel the penny has dropped somehow in the last few weeks. We've gone from 1 to 100. From total ignorance to Kinda Knowing Things. And it was not a pretty trip. I was resistant to thinking about giving birth, so initially my brain was kicking and screaming to shut it all out. Denial.

Not that I know all. Or even have my body or mind ready. But between the 5 classes the hospital offer, the 2 weekend courses we are going on through the NCT (National Child Trust), the books, DVDs and Pregtastic -- we ought to have a through and balanced and bigger view of what is possible and what is what.

That, coupled with the near completion of Lewis Room (Halle- freaking -luah ) has me feeling calmer and more comfortable with what is to come. Less overwhelm and more open-ness.
(Almost) ready to make the famed lasagnas for the freezer that supposedly comes with nesting.

But for sure ready to stop panicking.

freakishly fascinating

I want to apologize for any errant thought I may have ever had about a pregnant person being obsessed with her pregnancy.

I defy ANYONE to have something grow in them, distort their body and not be interested in it.

And then make that something a PERSON who you created that will grow big and then come out of you in a dramatic and amazing way and then will move in with you, feed off of your body, be utterly and 100% dependant on you for many years and not be totally, um, distracted.

I now know that this process of becoming a parent is a Very Big Deal in one's life. I understand why friends go inwards, why they don't want to go out, why home is haven, why they do not have time for me for a while.

I get it.

And I am sorry if I ever didn't.

And I am hoping my world adjusts as I feel my tunnel vision closing in and my current interests point to he who lives underneath my navel for a while.

It isn't that I don't care or am not interested in what is happening in other people's lives, it is purely that I am mesmerized by the biology and evolutionary experiment which is my own self.

I promise to return to being a good friend, sister, daughter, tribe member, coach, student at some point.

Me, I may never be quite as interesting to myself ever again.

uk baby

UK to US
pram= stroller
consultant= OB/GYN
cot= crib
moses basket=bassinet
dummy= pacifier
nappy= diaper
muslin squares= burping blankets
wee man= little boy
surgery= doctor's office
wean = baby
maternity leave= 52 weeks

US to UK
baby shower= Does Not Exist
diaper genie= tommee tippee
maternity leave= 6 weeks
head nurse= sister