Tag Archives: parenthood

43 Before 43: Take Myself To the Movies

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News flash – until recently I’d never been to the movies on my own.  Weird, I know. Solo movie viewing seems to be a rite of passage into independent womanhood I missed.

The reason? Mostly because I don’t see my friends enough as it is and we hardly ever go to the movies because we tend to be talkers and that isn’t really conducive to movie going.

Fast forward a few short months into parenthood and suddenly doing things all by myself seems like a great idea. Yes, I still miss my friends, but the sheer bliss of only answering to myself outweighs my need for adult conversation.

What movie shall I see? – The Artist {loved} and Friends with Kids {enjoyed enough} *

What theater should I go to? – Varsity in Davis and Tower in Sacramento

Where shall I sit?  – Wherever I want.

What will I do while I wait for the movie to start? – Words with Friends and wonder if I’ll be alone the entire movie.

Two hours alone without a little person hanging on me? Oh my!

Needless to say, I’ve decided to make this a monthly treat.

What regular treats do you do for yourself?

* other things I’ve seen recently on Nexflix Watch Instantly which I recommend – Being Elmo and The Pixar Story.

Reflection: Our First Month With Ruby

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Yesterday during my day long cryfest  yoga retreat, I had some time to reflect on my first month of parenthood.

The Good:

Ruby’s laugh – honestly I’ve never hear a sound that makes me happier.

Ruby’s smile.

Her lips.

Her cheeks.

The look on her face first thing when she wakes up – like she’s been waiting for this moment her whole life.

Baby babble: mommomomomomomomom

The clapping.

Licking books.

Giving me a book over and over to read again and again {current favorites: Good Night Gorilla, The Foot Book, I Am A Bunny, and Brown Bear, Brown Bear.}

Pounding the table at meal time for MORE. NOW. PLEASE.

Her high level of enthusiasm for baths.

Pulling herself up using your pant legs and hugging our knees.

Tiny baby feet.

Her Mongolian spot.

Constantly being reminded what needs attention in this moment – sweeping under the bird-cage, turning off the electronics, closing all the drawers – mostly a cuddle with mama.

The Bad:

Worry much? Friends, I am a worrier by nature and since we’ve invited our little nugget into our house I’ve turned the worry dial up to 11 on many a nights. Holy crap – nothing is too small or too big.

The disrupted sleep. The baby sleeps great, but between the worry and the moving, kicking, flopping etc I barely get a wink.

The lack of yoga class. People, yoga at home is awesome, but the community of others? underrated when you haven’t spoken to anyone higher than your knee in a long while.

My body hurts – between the worry, the contortionist sleeping, the picking up and walking around with 17 extra pounds – mama needs a massage STAT!

The Ugly:

One more than one occasion I asked if I needed to brush my hair before I left home. {the answer is always yes. I know, I know}.

The kitchen floor under her high chair.

The front of all her clothes by mid-day. Drool much?

Diapers are disgusting. That is all.

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Thank you for being there for us this first crazy month. We feel so loved and well taken care of. We’re starting to get out and about more and having visitors more regularly, so if you see us around or want to make a date – give us a shout out.

XO.

What Scares Me Most…

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Before I got my teaching credential, at my husband’s insistence, I spent some time working as a substitute teacher. One day, while working in a kindergarten classroom I heard a voice outside my head say what, up until that point, had only said inside my head.

YOU ARE DOING IT WRONG.

I paused, looked up from the group of adorable kindergarteners sitting at my knees and made eye contact with the speaker.

Huh?

YOU ARE DOING IT WRONG.

Huh, that’s what I thought she said.

She made some hand motions and gave directions on how I could correct what I was doing.

I turned the book upside down from where it was and like magic, right.

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The important part of this story is the absolute absurdity of that sentence being said to me out loud by another adult.

YOU ARE DOING IT WRONG.

And yet, in the moments right before I fall asleep these days, this exact thought is whispered in my own head.

YOU ARE DOING IT WRONG.

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Apparently, I’m afraid I’m going to do it wrong with Ruby.

In my rational brain, I can clearly see this isn’t true. I know there isn’t a wrong way or a right way. There are just ways that work today and those that don’t. Things that work better for some kids and things that totally don’t work for that kid (and so you stop).

But it’s not my rational brain telling me YOU ARE DOING IT WRONG. 

I’m pretty sure this is my inside voice, the one I’m not even clear who it belongs to.

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The other night in yoga class, Michelle, talked about the concept of satya or truth. What is true for your body today? What stories does your inner voice tell you? In other words, what kind of shit talking goes on about your limits or fears?

She said something about how the ego/bully voices are loud, aggressive and mean. The voice of truth is soft and kind, like a friend’s voice.

If you would like to listen (or play with idea for yourself, you can listen here).

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So here’s the deal on the comments today. I’m going to ask for what I need and what I don’t.

What I need: Please share how you talked yourself off this particular ledge – the abject fear of DOING IT WRONG. If you haven’t gotten off there, share that too. Knowing other people are afraid of the same things makes me less afraid.

Or you can simply tell me what scares you most.

What I don’t need: Reassurances that I’ll be a good mama, that’s not the issue, it’s the FEAR I’d like to address.

One Word

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Today’s #reverb10 prompt:

Prompt: One Word. Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you’re choosing that word. Now, imagine it’s one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you?

2010: Restorative

From deciding this is the style of yoga I want to teach to really learning what it takes for me to be fully rested, restorative was the word of this year.

I am planning to keep restorative close to heart in the coming year as well. I think it will come in handy.

Next year: Transformation

By this time next year, I hope to have become a parent.

What about you? What is your one word?


Worry list

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I thought I would share a current list of things that are weighing on my brain. Maybe getting them out of my head will help sort them out and give me some perspective.

1. Our adoption. I’m worried it’s not actually going to happen. In the words of Tom Petty, “The waiting is the hardest part.” Indeed.

2. Next school year…. Will I be teaching? Where will I be teaching? What grade will I be teaching?

Seems some changes may be happening and if I’m going to be teaching I’d like to know now who, what and where. Not so much on the last minute changes by other people. Just sayin.

3. If our adoption does go through in the next few months, how will I survive the travel? 

Jet lag + humidity + extreme heat + anxiety = bad news for Tami.

4. How will I handle the transition to parenthood? Will we really be able to live on one income?

5. Will I teach yoga? Where will that take me?

6. Ok, the thinking about the extreme Thailand heat got me thinking about the summer weather here. Will I ever get used to the heat in Sacramento? I really hate it. Seriously. Once it starts, sometimes I feel like it’s never going to stop and that freaks me out.