Spring Break

Being a teacher, like any job I’m sure, has its ups and downs.  One of the ups is the ridiculously awesome schedule.  I mean, come on, 196 work days a year?  Not a bad gig.  Especially if you’re like me and go to great lengths to not have to take any work home to do on the other 169 days.  Anyway, today was the first day back to work from the glorious vacation known as Spring Break and I thought I’d take a moment to reminisce about the fabulous week I had.

First of all, let me say that I love my little tastes of being a stay at home mom.  I kind of feel like I have the best of both worlds.  I get lots of time off to spend with Emma, but I also get the break and release of having a career.  Most of the time I do enjoy my job, and I can admit that spending every waking moment with a one year old can get a little tedious.  The breaks I have from work though are just enough to make the time I spend with her precious and exciting, and I find myself longing for those moments once school is back in session. 

I like spending time at home, but I am not really a stay at home type of person.  After a full day of being in the house, I am desperately trying to come up with some reason to leave.  Luckily I am easily entertained though, and a trip to Target is enough to refresh me.  Emma and I visited Target exactly three times during my week off, not to mention the mall, Wal-Mart, Best Buy, and Babies R Us once each.  I still love shopping, but it has admittedly become much more difficult now that Emmalee wants to “walk” wherever we go (see Walk Already!).  She seems to be entering a phase were shopping is mostly a boring chore that interferes with her playtime, which is unfortunate for my personal aura, but very fortunate for my bank account since perusing with a kicking, squirming, whining toddler in my arms just doesn’t have the same allure (though apparently that didn’t slow me down this week!). 

Emmalee and I managed to get out of the house a couple of times during our break that didn’t involve shopping, once to go to Sea World and another time to visit Typhoon Lagoon.  This was our third trip to Sea World, but because we usually only go for a few hours at a time we are still making all kinds of new discoveries.  This time Emmalee was most enamored by the underwater dolphin viewing area.  She was able to stand with her hands pressed right up to the glass, giggling with glee each time a dolphin swam by.  She also had the opportunity to meet Elmo, who I didn’t even realize lived at Sea World!  Though Emma does not watch Sesame Street, she does have a couple of Elmo bath books and the mirror I use in the car to be able to see her since she is still rear-facing is adorned by the lovable red creature.  To my delight, Emma wasn’t scared in the slightest and though she didn’t exactly smile, she waved and seemed to be truly intrigued by the Elmo encounter.  Which is fine.  I’ll take intrigued over screaming in terror any day.  We can work our way up to smiles and hugs when meeting large, costumed individuals.  It was a pleasant day with the exception of Emma’s lunchtime meltdown where she threw an epic fit in her stroller and I, awesome mom that I am, didn’t have her strapped in so she almost fell out of it.  In front of a whole line full of people in a crowded restaurant.  At least I didn’t see the looks of horror and disapproval as I was too embarrassed to make any attempt at eye contact.  At that moment I sure felt like an inadequate teenager, so at least the judgmental thoughts that I’m sure were racing through everyone’s minds weren’t completely inaccurate. 

We also visited Typhoon Lagoon, a Disney water park, for the first time and Emma and I were both pleasantly surprised by what we discovered.  First of all, we got to meet Stitch, from Lilo and Stitch.  While I enjoyed this more than Emma, since she has no clue who he is, she still studied him and seemed amused when he started playing peek-a-boo.  Typhoon Lagoon has a decidedly beach like atmosphere, with white sand, a sloping pool, palm trees, and tropical flowers to give the overall feel of being in a somewhat crowded tropical oasis.  Emma had never even been swimming prior to this trip, but she loved the sand and laughed with delight when we waded out into the water.  She was still mostly preoccupied with picking up flower petals and leaves, but at least she enjoyed herself.  She was also incredibly pleased by the lazy river where she sat in a float and watched the world pass by.  She was not a fan of the cold jets of water that fell on us here and there, but after a few moments of irrational, as if we’d been doused with acid screaming she calmed down.  We only stayed a few hours, partly because I was worried that a meltdown was on the horizon and partly because I am super paranoid about Emma getting sunburned (as temperamental as she is, I don’t even want to think about how she’d handle that level of discomfort).  I wasn’t sure if a water park would have much to entertain a one year old, but I’ve found that it really does.  Which is good since I bought an annual pass so that we’d have someplace to frequent over the summer.

And that pretty much wraps up the week, other than doing a bit of laundry and some half-hearted attempts at spring cleaning.  It was a fun week, but it passed way too quickly, a teaser for the real prize that lies ahead: Summer Break!  Eight weeks of uninterrupted bliss.  41 more school days and counting…

Bizarre Encounters

Women have babies at all different ages and in a variety of different situations.  Whether a new mom is 16 and still in high school or 39 with a steady career, there is one thing that they will all inevitably have in common, which is that they will never truly be prepared.  No matter how old you are, no matter how many books you’ve read or Google searches you’ve done, becoming a new mom will always be harder than you thought it would be.  And I say this as someone who was lucky enough to have a relatively “easy” newborn.  Nothing can prepare you for the exhaustion.  You might think you know what it means to be tired, but you will never know real, true, bone-crushing, mind-numbing fatigue until you’ve cared for an infant for several weeks.  It is also impossible to understand the overwhelming responsibility of holding a completely helpless little life in your hands until you are there.  Babies don’t know anything, and as a mom it becomes your job to do everything for them and to teach them everything they’ll ever need to know about anything.  It is a daunting task. 

The thing that I was most unprepared for, however, was taking my baby out in public.  I’ve found that walking through a store with a baby in your arms is equivalent to walking through a store while wearing a sandwich board that reads “Please violate my personal space and abandon all normal social boundaries when interacting with me” while ringing a loud bell.  In other words, you draw attention to yourself.  And as someone who prefers as little attention as possible, this definitely took some getting used to.  Most people are kind and will simply gush over your baby for a few minutes (or sometimes for an awkwardly long amount of time), seemingly so excited just to witness the new little life you’ve created.  There are others though who seem to think that since you’ve so carelessly brought your baby into their line of vision then you must be simply begging them to stop you and critique every parenting decision you’ve ever made. 

Emmalee is not a fan of napping.  In fact, she dislikes it so much that she will often fuss and cry until she falls asleep.  This happens whether we are at home or out and about.  One such time at Wal-Mart Emmalee was in my arms, overtired and in desperate need of a nap.  While she cried I bounced and shushed her, knowing that within a few minutes she would give in and sleep.  A woman approached with a look of pure horror on her face and demanded, “What’s wrong with your baby?!”  Being the kind and non-confrontational person that I am, I simply answered, “She’s just tired.”  The woman proceeded to give me a look that clearly said I must be the most moronic person to have ever taken care of a baby and she seemed to be using every ounce of self control she could muster to restrain herself from ripping the baby from my undeserving arms.  Because anyone with any sense knows that babies never cry just because they are tired, right? 

Getting older is strange.  With each year that goes by I find myself thinking “I don’t feel older.”  Well, apparently I don’t look older either.  Someday I might view it as a good thing that people think I look young, but at the moment it is rather irritating to be mistaken for a 17 year old.  Especially now that I have a baby in tow.  Before Christmas I took Emmalee to get her picture taken with Santa.  Due to Emmalee’s fear of anyone that isn’t Mommy or Grammy, I chose to have this done at a portrait studio that would work with us to get a good shot.  Santa came out to introduce himself and to see how Emmalee would react.  He said his hellos to the baby and then asked her, “And who is this holding you?”  When I answered Mommy I thought he might faint from the shock.  He proclaimed that I was way too young to be her mom.  I proceeded to explain that I am 26 years old to which Santa replied, “Well I thought you were only 17!”  This exchange was rude for a variety of reasons, but the main one being what if I was only 17?  Come on, Santa.  You’ve got to brush up on your people skills a bit.

Emmalee has chunky feet.  Due to this it is very difficult to find shoes that fit properly and that will actually stay on her.  One day in the Dollar Tree a woman approached and exclaimed in an absolutely flabbergasted manner, “Doesn’t your baby have any shoes?!”  First of all, we are in the Dollar Tree.  Maybe she doesn’t have any shoes.  Are you offering to buy her some?  If so, Target is right around the corner and I’m totally jonesing for a trip.  Secondly, I know she looks like she’s two, but she’s only 10 months and she isn’t walking yet.  Is it really that big of a deal for her to just wear socks when she’s being carried?  And lastly, mind your own (insert choice of obscenity here) business!  What makes you think that you have the right to question the choices I make for my child?  Oh right, I wandered into your direct line of sight, didn’t I?  My fault!

These are just a few of the absolutely bizarre encounters I’ve had while venturing out into public places with Emmalee.  While I try not to let these things affect me, I will admit that I go to great lengths to keep Emma from crying when we’re out to avoid the “look at that teenager without a clue” glances.  I also carry Emma’s shoes around in the diaper bag religiously, even though I have no intention of putting them on her.  And I’m very seriously considering having a shirt made that reads “I am 26, married, I have a college degree and I own a home” and wearing it every time I leave the house.  Emmalee will have a matching shirt that says “Yes, I do own several pairs of shoes.”  You know, just to let people know. 

Awesome Changes

Having a baby changes things.  While struggling to keep my eyes open last night during the last quarter of the Superbowl, I was especially struck by this realization.  A mere three years ago I hosted a keg party at my house in honor of the Superbowl.  This year I didn’t even turn it on until halftime when Emmalee was asleep and I finally had a chance to make myself a sandwich and relax for a few minutes.  This got me thinking about other things that have changed in my life since Emma’s arrival.

My level of self-consciousness.  I’m not sure at what point having a child lowers your modesty expectations, but I’d say it happens in the hospital sometime after the fifth relative stranger has stuck their entire hand up your lady parts.  You suddenly just don’t care anymore what other people think of you.  And even months after the baby is out, you’ll find that trying to do anything with a baby takes up so much of your mental energy that you don’t have room left in your head to worry about what you look like to others.   Most people are paying more attention to the baby than to you anyway.

My shopping habits.  Though I continue to be a bit of an impulsive and emotional shopper, I no longer have much interest in buying things that are not for Emmalee.  The baby and toy departments of stores used to be foreign countries that I dared not visit… and now I call them home.  Buying a new pair of shoes for myself used to make me happy, but I’ve found that the feeling can’t compare to the joy of buying Emma a new pair of shoes.  Even though I know she’ll kick them off her feet in about 3 seconds and they will be wasted because keeping them on her will be impossible.  Emma looks so much more adorable in clothing than I ever could.  And hello?  Who doesn’t love toys?  Having a baby is an awesome excuse to let your inner child run wild in the toy section!

My ability to be reasonable.  I used to think of myself as a mostly logical and rational person.  Now that I have a baby though, I can see that is no longer always true.  When my husband started traveling for work and I was left alone with Emmalee I had trouble sleeping.  Some of my fears were understandable.  What if there was a burglar/murderer/fire?  How would I keep Emma safe?  But my biggest fear, the thought that kept me up until the early hours of the morning frozen with terror, was that I would die in my sleep and Emmalee would be left alone, scared and hungry for hours before anyone realized something was wrong.  I am 26 years old with no known health problems other than nasal allergies, so clearly this is an unreasonable thing to worry about.  But to be fair, the people on the television show House are always reasonably healthy before collapsing with some life-threatening disease.  If those people had been home alone with a baby they wouldn’t have been rushed to the hospital, meaning they would have died.  And what would have become of the baby???  I think you see my point.

My mental capacity.  Research has proven that having a baby does not impact your cognitive abilities.  And yet…  I swear I used to be able to remember things like when the cell phone bill is due, or what day is trash day, or why I needed to go to Wal-Mart, but these days things like this slip my mind more and more.  Perhaps it is again due to the amount of mental energy a baby requires.  With all the worrying about how long she sleeps, how much she eats, when was the last time she pooped, is she happy, is she developmentally on track, how many days are left until her birthday, am I spoiling her, will she go to college, and on and on and on, there just isn’t much room left for mundane things like paying the water bill or feeding the dogs.  This “Mommy ADD” as I like to call it also impacts me at work.  My to-do list used to be brief and manageable, but these days it seems to get longer rather than shorter.  Though I try my best to focus on work while I’m there, Emmalee is never far from my mind. 

My free time.  Free time used to be something that just was.  I have some time to kill, maybe I’ll watch a couple hours of TV or read a book, whatever strikes me at the time.  Now that I have a baby in my life, I view the rare moments of free time with a different set of eyes.  While rocking Emma to sleep I get excited thinking about what I might do with myself once I lay her down and I find myself planning out my two hours of “free” time.  First I have dishes and laundry and sometimes I still need to eat dinner, but what about after?  Should I read?  Watch Teen Mom?  Hit up Babycenter.com?  Write a blog?  I’ve got to check Facebook.  The possibilities seem endless and I want to do it all… which means I end up staying up way too late trying to balance my responsibilities with my intense desire to just relax and waste time. 

My priorities.  My world used to revolve around me.  Yes, there were other people in it that I cared about, but there was no one I was responsible for other than myself.  If I was hungry I ate, if I was tired I slept, if I wanted to read or watch TV or just lie in bed and stare at the ceiling for an hour, I could fit it in.  These days my world revolves around Emmalee.  My first concerns are about whether or not she is hungry, thirsty, tired, etc, and these needs are met before my own needs are even considered.  But I am not complaining.  Because even though being completely responsible for another human being is exhausting at times, it is also unbelievably rewarding.  My life has taken on a whole new meaning because now someone depends on me.  And yes, things have changed.  But I wouldn’t have it any other way.  When it comes to adding a baby to your life, change is awesome and so worth the sacrifices.

Growing Up at Target

I love shopping.  The thing I love most about shopping is the organization.  I love the way all like things are grouped together.  There is something about seeing ten of the same item arranged by size that makes me feel like I need to take one home with me.  It looks so lovely on the rack, wouldn’t it look equally lovely in my closet (or more frequently these days, Emmalee’s closet)?  This is why I tend to avoid clearance racks and why I don’t prefer to shop at discount stores like Ross or TJ Maxx.  The disarray of items organized by size and then type makes me much less likely to desire anything.  Of all the places to shop I love Super Target the most.  I love the red shopping carts.  I love that there is a Starbucks just inside the door.  I love that it is never too crowded, that they rarely run out of things, and that the store always seems so neat and clean.  I could (and do) literally spend hours inside that store, browsing aimlessly up and down every aisle, checking it all out and basking in the orderly shopper’s paradise.  And though it is fun to peruse the store, it is a rare occurrence that I leave empty handed.  Because I also love the white and red shopping bags, the way the receipt is organized by category, and the exhilaration of leaving with something new.

I try to behave and purchase only things that I need.  But need is objective, isn’t it?  Does Emmalee need more long sleeved pajamas?  Not if I do laundry more than once a week.  But since I don’t, it is a need, right?  Does Emmalee need another toy to play with?  Not really, but its only $7.00 and look how cute it is!  Does Emmalee need another book?  Well, I want her to go to college don’t I?  I know, I’m ridiculous.  This ridiculousness (accompanied by a few more reasonable explanations) has led to the accumulation of more debt than I care to admit to.  There comes a certain point where debt turns into a vicious cycle.  I have so much that I spend nearly all my income (after household bills and groceries) on keeping up with the payments, which means any new purchases have to be acquired through credit.  If I didn’t have to spend so much on credit card payments, I could afford to buy what I need (want?) and wouldn’t have to charge it.  And so the cycle continues.  Not to mention that debt is depressing.  You know what cheers me up?  Shopping!

Emmalee was six days old the first time she visited our local Super Target.  I don’t think she was all that impressed that day.    But as the weeks passed by and she continued to take weekly, or sometimes twice weekly, trips, she began to recognize the awesomeness that is Target.  Or at least, that’s what I like to think.  She is inundated by the sights, the sounds, the smells, the pretty clothes and colorful toys that I hold up in front of her while asking, “Should we buy this?”  (Perhaps I shouldn’t leave purchasing decisions in the hands of a ten month old?)  The Target shopping cart with its high-backed and roomy child seat is almost like a second home to her.  During the shopping high it is easy to get carried away and to reason that passing my love for spending on to Emmalee is a bonding experience, something we can share together in the years ahead.  But later, especially while paying bills, I can’t help but to realize that I’m wrong. 

I have gotten myself into an unfortunate situation, mostly due to irresponsible and not well thought out choices.  Buy now, pay later is a thrilling concept… until later arrives.  I am constantly worried about finances and wonder how I will ever dig myself out of this hole.  This is not something I want Emmalee to ever have to experience.  So perhaps it is time to change my ways.  Maybe instead of teaching Emmalee how fun shopping is, I should be more concerned with teaching her to make responsible shopping choices and to budget for things that she wants, even if it means waiting and saving awhile.  Before I can teach this lesson to her, though, I guess I will have to teach it to myself.  Luckily Emmalee is only ten months old, so I have some time to get things in order before she begins to understand words like money, credit, and consumerism.  I read somewhere that you have to be who you want your child to be.  I don’t want Emmalee to be a person bogged down by debt, so I guess it’s time to figure out a new way of doing things. 

My beloved Super Target, I will miss you.