Big Sister Blues

My seven year old has been in "Big Sister" mode ever since she found out I was pregnant. She's weighed in on decor, inspected every item of clothing, and made a birthday card that read "Happy 5th Birthday, Baby!" As to why she skipped birthdays one - four, I have no idea.

E's enthusiasm remained steady after little sister arrived. She volunteers to help with diaper changes and baths, and she's ready to entertain whenever the baby is awake.

I've come to rely on her excitement and independence. Perhaps a little too much. I'm still working on balancing the needs of a school-age kid and a newborn.

Last night, my eldest made that all to clear. After pouting though most of the evening, I asked her what was bothering her:

"A is more important than me."

I know such feelings are normal when a new baby comes home, but I was completely caught off guard.

"Why do you feel that way?" I asked?

"You only take care of me when it's time for dinner. You're with A all the time."

I took a deep breath and said a quick prayer for inspiration. The Cosby Show came to mind.

We talked about how the baby can't do things like get dressed or feed
herself, but that E can. She knows how to choose outfits for school, make her own bed, and pour cereal for breakfast. These were things she couldn't do when she was younger. So she needed my help then, just like A needs my help now. Needing me less doesn't mean I love less. It just means she's growing up.

"Yah Seven!" (Cosby Show Reference)

E feels better, but I'm not sure I do. I know it will take time for me to get the hang of things. I will try not to beat myself up too much. The baby's doing enough of that already. I wrote most of this post at midnight.

Late-Night Ramblings

It's 1:17 am. My nose is running, I'm covered in spit up, and I'm afraid to move. My newborn girl is lying across my lap, snoring gently.

This was a hard-fought battle. Two hours of nursing, burping and ssshh-ing have led to this moment. And one wrong move could ruin it all. Tapping out this post is the only thing keeping me awake so I don't blow it.

It's times like this that my mind wanders and I totally lose my cool. What the heck was I thinking to have a baby at this point in my life? I had it pretty good. My oldest daughter is 7, so I was well past diapers, breast feelings and sleepless lunacy.

But now that our battle is over (for now), I once again fall in love with my girl's angelic face. I wonder how she will change each day, and I look forward to watching her discover the world.

Now, if only I could get her into this bassinet. My day would be so much better if I could greet it after a few hours sleep.

Good Gravy!

It's been how long since I've posted?

I can't even remember all that's happened to me since August. I thought about spending time writing a wonderfully witty comeback post, but let's be real. It would be another six weeks before I got that post done. So I'm going kick off my return with the following list of updates:

1. Writing: Clearly, I haven't been writing as I should, but I did enter an essay contest for Real Simple. They announce the winner in January. Keep your fingers crossed!

2. Parenting: E is growing up to be quite the sassy young lady. After spending Halloween evening as an angel, complete with a Marabou halo and wings, she remarked: "I think I was the cutest little thing people saw tonight."

3. Marriage: Hubby and I are still going strong. And yes, we are still sharing one car. One day, though, it will get better.

4. Me: I actually had to write "relax" on my to do list last week. Sad, but true.

More soon!

Hazed

I can't count how many times I saw Revenge of the Nerds as a kid. Now that I think about it, I really didn't have any business watching that, but every now and then, my parents let something sneak through. The alcohol-induced antics of the Tri-Lambs and the Alpha Betas gave me a skewed sense of collegiate reality.

By the time I was old enough to go to college, I knew that 99% of that film was far-fetched. Still, a teeny part of me was nervous when I applied to join my sorority. I needn't have worried. A combination of university and sorority policies prohibited a good deal of nonsense, including riding a tricycle while guzzling cans of beer.

Even though there were no arm-wrestling and burping contests (Thank goodness!), we still had our share of good times. And one of my sorority sisters was there to document most of them with her camera. D would say the same thing every time she looked at pictures from our new-member phase:

"We hazed ourselves."

D's comment came to mind this weekend when my friends and I took our daughters for a girls day out. A local salon offers a "Princess Party," a spa experience for girls ages 6 and up. Our kids ate pizza, danced to Kid's Bop CDs, and got manis and pedis, all while wearing little pink robes, tiaras and feather boas. Meanwhile, we sat in a waiting room with bottles of water.

Oh, wait, I take that back. The salon was out of bottled water. We just sat there. Venting.

About how we need more hours in the day. And how hard it is to be a mom. And how sometimes we want to just pull the covers over our heads and sleep the day away. We could hear our girls singing along to Justin Bieber and Willow Smith.

We hazed ourselves.

There we were, four stressed out mamas, lamenting while our daughters were being pampered. We should have given ourselves a little love while we were treating our girls.

Mama's Day Out is in the works for September. A massage is definitely in order.

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