Mom Real Talk Archives - Page 10 of 11 - The Ten Thousand Hour Mama

My peach

October 29, 2015June 11, 2016catherinemryan

A blog I follow, Mama Said, just posted a poem that shot me back in time.

This summer I went to the orchard with my mom and Peeper. I was almost 8 months pregnant, and the baby girl growing inside me kicked and stretched, making me wince—and smile.

We had come for the cherries (and the farm animals, which Peeper simultaneously loved and feared), but it turned out that peaches were in season, too. We made a short detour on the dusty road, pulled over and found ourselves under a canopy of trees buzzing with sweetness and potential.

I didn’t have a bucket or a spare bag, so I balanced the peaches I picked on my belly. And I couldn’t resist—I bit into one (or, ah, several). I ate them surrounded by branches heavy with fruit, and the juice dripped down my chin and stained the shirt stretched taught over my big belly.

They tasted full—alive, vibrant, practically bursting with flavor.

Peeper was less interested in fruit picking than she was in feeding the goats, so we left not long after that. I drove us home, my sticky hands leaving smudges on the steering wheel, as Kiwi squirmed inside me and Peeper sang “Old MacDonald” in the back seat.

My life felt like those peaches—full and vibrant in the sweetest way.

Two months: Kiwi

September 25, 2015June 11, 2016catherinemryan

If the first month of Kiwi’s life was figuring out what the heck we were doing with our newly expanded family, the second month has been about getting to know this beautiful, engaging, curious tiny person.

I can’t get enough of her.

Getting lost in my baby

I memorize the locations of the freckles on her head. Before too long, her hair will grow longer and I’ll never see them again.

I admire the delicate curves of her ears. They remind me of the swirl of a seashell or the whorl of a knot on a tree.

I feel her gentle breath on my skin as she breathes in and out.

I know the telltale fussiness that tells me she needs to burp (which is different from her tired, hungry or overwhelmed fussiness). And I can feel the burp inside her before it bubbles up. (“Good burp!” Peeper congratulates her every time.)

For the love of grandparents

September 22, 2015June 11, 2016catherinemryan

“Perfect love sometimes does not come until the first grandchild.” -Welsh proverb

To see my girls adored by their grandparents is to witness something pure and beautiful.

The four of them—Eric’s parents, Grandma and Grandpa Gregory, and mine, Nana and Grandpa Shempy—light up when they are with Peeper and Kiwi. Peeper’s shenanigans especially inspire laughter and the kind of fun unique to little ones.

Life > Blog

September 14, 2015March 22, 2017catherinemryan

Long time no see, Blog.

I’ve been taking a break from blogging since Kiwi was born. Well, duh, you might think. I do, after all, have an eight-week-old and toddler to take care of, plus a husband to occasionally talk with, plus a full-time job writing. (Cleaning and cooking have completely fallen by the wayside, too. Our house is a constant disaster.)

My hiatus is perhaps to be expected, but that doesn’t mean I like it.

I like this blog. I enjoy writing it, sharing it, connecting with other people and building a community of other bloggers and readers. It doesn’t bring in a cent and probably isn’t advancing my career in any way, but it has become something that’s important to me.

As moms, it’s easy to let go of the things we enjoy—but that don’t tangibly contribute— especially in the hazy first months of a baby’s life. But we shouldn’t.

Even though this blog centers around my family, it’s for me. I am a writer, and writers write. Sure, right now I’m writing and editing full-time, but this is fulfilling in a different way. I get to say what’s in my heart (or in my sleep-deprived mind, at least).

At some point, I’ll come back from my break from blogging and regain some of the balance that’s missing. In the meantime, I haven’t completely forgotten about my tiny corner of the internet. I’ll be back.

I am the coziest place in the world

September 3, 2015March 22, 2017catherinemryan

Kiwi spends a lot of time sleeping on me lately.

Whether it’s in the carrier on a walk, on my chest as I watch a football game or leaning on me for the now-requisite 30 minutes after each feeding, she rests with her face on that magical spot of skin beneath my collarbone and her ear pressed against my heart.

Can I blame her? No. After 40 weeks inside me, it’s no wonder she craves that closeness.

But I am tired. So, so tired.

Last night, for example, as she nursed or slept on me (I’m too far gone to remember which), I stared at a spot on the sheet. I couldn’t tell if it was a bug or just a smidge of something. If you had offered me a million dollars to tell if it was moving, I would have had to guess.

People, sleep deprivation would have reduced me to 50/50 at a chance for a million dollars. Read more →

Some days

August 27, 2015March 22, 2017catherinemryan

Some days I wake up and take in Kiwi’s wide-open eyes and marvel at how lucky I am to be her mama. Some days I get Peeper out of bed and ask her, “Is it going to be a good day?” And when she says, “Yes!” I am all-in.

Today is not one of those days.

I feel wrung out. I spent part of last night crying and all of it worrying about Kiwi. It’s probably regular newborn stuff, but I’m anxious that her inability to stay asleep, her grunting noises, even the spit bubbles that collect on her lips, reveal something deeper that is wrong.

Is Baby #2 easier?

I skated by in my second pregnancy without the worries of my first. “I got this,” I figured, and I did. I found the answers to the things I’d forgotten about without spiraling into a bout of anxiety.

I thought I’d ease into new motherhood again in the same way. Imagine my surprise, then, when breastfeeding was still hard. Really, really hard. And when I asked things like “Does her belly look distended to you?” And when I found myself paralyzed over whether to unwrap Kiwi’s swaddle or not.

Motherhood, like anything, is riding the ups and downs that come like a tide—if a tide changed every three minutes. It just so happens that I’m in an ebb, and that means not wanting to get out of bed. It means I don’t want to do today.

Probably in five minutes I’ll see Kiwi smile—a new development that lights up the entire house. I’ll eat some breakfast. Peeper will tell me all about the zoo train she is building and the animals she remembers seeing the last time we visited. Maybe I’ll even drink a cup of tea to counteract the zombie brain of waking I-can’t-remember-how-many-times last night.

Will it be a good day? I’m pretty sure it will be. But for the few moments I steal in bed, typing this on my phone, I’d rather go back to sleep and let the day enjoy itself.

A poem for my water bottle

July 27, 2015January 20, 2018catherinemryan

When Peeper was born, the folks at the hospital gave me a giant double insulated water jug. I reveled in its 28 ounce capacity and brought it everywhere. I drank water like it was my job because, for a breastfeeding mama, it was my job! I emptied my favorite water bottle again and again and again.

Then one bad no good horrible day, I left the jug on top of the car and drove away. The jug was smashed. My heart was smashed. I missed that hunk of plastic for months.

I told this story to the nurses at the hospital where I delivered Kiwi. Not only did they gift me a new one, they gave me two. Voila: Now I have two of my favorite water bottles!

Maybe they were angling to get Kiwi named after them.

Well played, nurses.

Anyway, the other night I was trying to keep myself awake and amused as Kiwi was breastfeeding, so I composed a little poem in honor of my favorite drinking receptacle. (What, isn’t that what everyone does?)

A poem for my favorite water bottle: aka why breastfeeding moms need to drink so much! Ten Thousand Hour Mama Read more →

Big Sister is ready to bond with the baby

July 16, 2015January 20, 2018catherinemryan

Peeper is so excited about welcoming the new baby. It is beyond precious to see her bond with the baby while I’m still pregnant.

“Want to open that baby!” Peeper will say, lifting up my shirt or, more awkwardly, my dress.

She puts her hands on my round bump and leans in close, her nose almost touching my belly button.

And she smiles.

Peeper has already begun to bond with the baby. She asks to see her, brings her toys, asks me to sing her little sister a song, puts the spout of her sippy cup on my belly and gives her hugs. Sometimes she’ll shyly wave.

Some mornings when I lift Peeper out of the crib, her first request is, “Wanna see the baby.” She’ll stand in her jammies with her halo of curls mussed every which way and place her hands on my bump. Her dimples are never as precious as when she shares a smile with her unborn sister. Their bond is already strong. Read more →

10 Ways I’m an Awesome Mom

May 8, 2015February 28, 2018catherinemryan

Take a sample of parenting blogs out there and you’ll read a lot of bloopers. But I’m going to own it: I’m an awesome mom.

We mothers, especially, are quick to point out our failings and our foibles. Perhaps it’s easier (or more cathartic) to confess the time you melted a Tupperware lid in the dishwasher, causing poisonous fumes to fill the apartment, than it is to reflect on the millions of other times you scrubbed plates clean without incident. After all, washing the dishes without a hitch—or, for that matter, the millions of unremarkable moments of motherhood—aren’t particularly newsy.

But in anticipation of Mother’s Day (coming up this Sunday for anyone who’s forgotten!), I’m stepping out of the self-deprecating, self-questioning rut I sometimes fall into.

I’m celebrating what a wonderful mother I am. Read more →

Family resemblance

April 15, 2015January 11, 2017catherinemryan

Family resemblance can be so strong. I just hope my daughter displays her aunt's personality traits, too. Ten Thousand Hour Mama

The other day I was looking for a particular photo when I stumbled upon one that made me gasp—no exaggeration. The family resemblance was striking.

I found an image of my older sister as a toddler, and Peeper’s resemblance is uncanny. See for yourself:

Toddler eat flower tulip — Aunt Bootsie, around 1 year old, develops a taste for the finer things

Toddler tulip festival Woodburn curls — Peeper investigates a tulip at the Woodburn Tulip Festival