New arrival

I'm excited to announce the arrival of my second daughter, born on 26 July by c section and weighing in at a whopping 8 lb 5 oz. I didn't get my VBAC in the end, this little girl was far to comfortable in there. Friends were calling her the 'Howard Hughes' of babies, and the world's most elusive baby. She was remarkably 8 days overdue, as was her stubborn independent sister, which leads me to believe I will be having my hands full during the teenager years. So far though she is relatively placid and calm, a refreshing change from a toddler who is constantly ignoring/disputing every suggestion or order her mother makes. Breastfeeding is going wonderfully for us although it is so different feeding a newborn again. I think with an older child one becomes lazy - after a while they just seem to basically feed themselves. Now I actually have to pay attention to hunger cues, perfecting the art of guiding baby to boob, and making sure I am holding baby in a comfortable position. It seems strange to me now that I am back to broken sleep and days spent sitting on the couch, I am raring to go out and do things! I am trying to be patient though as with a second section I don't want to overdo it. Nono and Gigi will be here approximately 3 weeks from today and I can't wait!

How Do I Know I Am Doing This Right?

This past weekend I called my mother in tears. "I am a terrible parent!" I cried. "How come 'Daddy Cool' makes it looks so effortless? I have absolutely no patience for anything!" We ran through the list of everything I was doing 'wrong' to which my mother pointed out that I was not actually doing these things right or wrong, I was just learning how to deal with them. I think at times it can be so difficult being this far away from my mother. I want to be able to have her observe Cupcake and assess my parenting skills or suggest different solutions to what I perceive as my 'problems'. Parenting doesn't come with a guidebook, so how in the hell am I supposed to know how to handle different situations? I do not think that just because I am a woman that automatically means I know how to nurture, or multitask. There isn't some biological switch inside me that clicks into 'parent mode' and magically helps me cope.

This probably won't be the last of these type of hysterical phone calls I make to my mother.

A Mother is Always Right?

Two weeks ago I got the great idea to dye my hair. I had spent the last two years (due to pregnancy and laziness) growing it out to my natural color. One night I was inspired to change something and that something was my hair. It turned out a little red but I thought nothing of it. At least not at first. But when talking to my mother on Skype she laid it on the line for me. I suppose the one person I can always trust to tell me the truth is my mother. In a panic I decided I needed to colour over it and fast. But the problem was the red I put in was, well, really red. It wasn't intended to be but apparently my hair was lighter than I thought. So I tried to dye it brown. That worked for about two days. The first picture is my most recent, a mix between the two colours. The middle was right after I dyed it brown and the last is my Ronald McDonald colour. You can tell I am not impressed. Note to self: do not dye hair again until you need to cover gray. Note to self #2: Listen to your mother, she has your best interests at heart. 

Mother or Sisyphus?

There are times when I am incredibly productive. I manage to feed and water the baby, mop the floor, wash AND fold 3 loads of laundry, cook 3 separate meals and run a nighttime bath. No I lied those days happen oh so infrequently. I have never managed to be totally organised in my home life. Two days ago I marveled at the state of these hand-me-down clothes we received from a friend of a relative. Pink and girly and ironed. Seriously who irons a 1 year olds clothes? Obviously a greater mother than I... Back to my point, I am just happy if I manage to get through the day without causing a bigger mess in my house. My lovingly husband, who oh so passive-aggressively 'gives out' to me remarks that muddle makes more muddle. He says it in a sickly sweet voice when talking to our daughter, disguising it in the form of a 'life lesson'. We both know who he is really addressing. Herein lies the crux of the matter. Every time I make an attempt to tidy, straighten, organise or clean, there is a second pair of hands following me undoing all of my doing. Remember how I espoused my delight at spending the day constructively gardening with my little sweetheart? While outside this afternoon, knee deep in weeds (oh God that just totally gave me away), I turned to witness sweetheart clawing at the neatly firmed compost in the terra cotta pots that line our flower (weed) beds. She was grabbing handfuls of dirt and emptying the pots onto the ground. Worse still, she had managed to pluck out all of the new shoots from our Italian lettuce leaves, radishes and carrots. This is only one of many examples of my productivity being completely obliterated by my sweetheart. Am I Sisyphus, doomed to roll the heavy rock of my tasks back and forth for an eternity?

Around the World in 80 Clicks- A Motherhood Journey

I've just been tagged in an 'Around the World in 80 Clicks - a Motherhood Journey ' connecting blog moms around the globe, asking them to list 5 things they love (or don't love) about being a mother. The original post was by Catherine at Her Bad Mother. I was kindly tagged by fellow Irish blogging Mom, Irish Mammy on the Run.

1. Breastfeeding. Hands down the most amazing thing about motherhood so far. I loved the closeness of our bodies and the way she would pat my breasts as if to reassure me that I was doing a good job. I loved feeding her in odd places like after the Women's Mini Marathon, sitting on a curb after running ( jogging? power walking?) 10k. Selfishly I loved that I was the only person in the whole world that could provide that for her.

2. Pickiness. She used to be an amazing eater, I am talking all types of organic veg out the wazoo - spinach, broccoli, zucchini, peppers, squash, and pumpkin. Now she won't eat anything, it just goes straight on the floor to the dogs. In fact she had 6 breadsticks and a fruit cup for dinner. Now I am beginning to understand why people resort to readymade meals. Except I refuse to give in, I will win this battle of the wills.

3. The homing device she has placed somewhere on my person. Not that I am frequently trying to evade her but she always manages to find me. That makes it sounds like I am abandoning her in a shopping mall or something. What I really mean is she could be playing happily with toys suitable for a 14 month old such as remote control, my keys, mobile phone, etc and I could leave the room for a second. Somehow she manages to teleport herself attached to my right leg. It is really amazing, or annoying, depending on how you look at it.

4. Language. I am so grateful that I read all that psychoanalytical stuff that Sigmund Freud, Jacque Lacan, Melanie Klein, Luce Irigaray and Julia Kristeva have written. It is fascinating to watch her developmental stages, especially now that she is learning that we are separate entities and language begins to help her define herself. I love the crazy mouth acrobatics she is obsessed while trying out new sounds. Our latest vocal pursuit in search of linguistics includes darting the tongue in and out of the mouth touching the top lip making a 'lebble lebble' sound. She could point to a picture of an elephant a hundred times and never tire of me saying, 'Elephant, elephant, elephant'.

5. Special Moments. Those times we share where she is so heartbreakingly cute. For instance, when I weaned her she only once asked me to feed her. It was 3 am and she pointed to my breast and asked 'That?' and I said, 'No honey, that is all gone'. She understood the enormity of what that meant and just started to cry (I cried later). Or when she arrived home from daycare and laid on the ground so our miniature dachshund Oscar could sniff her body. Last week she learned to blow kisses and now when she wakes up she blows a kiss to the picture of my parents in her bedroom.

UPDATE: Looks like this thing is really starting to get going... For more views on motherhood check out Psyche at a life reconstructed.

My little buzzing bee

Upon arriving home yesterday afternoon from my two days away my little honey bee cried as soon as I opened the car door. It was nice to know that someone had missed me. However I have to admit that the elation I felt when I saw her was soon quashed. We went over to my sister-in-law's for an early dinner, tea, I believe they call it. When my husband mentioned it to me on the phone I misinterpreted and thought tea as in a cup of. Really the last thing I wanted to do was go and make small talk. I just wanted to sit at home with my baby on my lap and cuddle her all night. Despite enjoying my two days I really missed having her near me all the time. As soon as we arrived over, honey bee went to absolutely everyone except Mama. I actually thought I was going to cry. On one hand, I was happy to see that she is so open to different people (grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousin), but on the other I felt hurt. I mean, didn't she need that closeness with me like I needed it from her? 

Now entering Phase 2

After consuming massive amount of sage I am happy (?) to report that the production of milk has slowed. I was thinking about how great nursing was for both of us. It was my answer to everything, illness, comfort, sleeping, depression (er... this is me I am talking about here!). But then I starting to think about what comes after nursing? I've decided phase two is the 'mothering' phase. No longer can I rely on the old standby to problem solve, I actually have to take a proactive approach to mothering. And by that I mean aside from lifting up my shirt. On the plus side we did enjoy our first morning cuddle today.