I think some of the best advice I ever got when I was pregnant came from Nick's cousin. The happy mother of a then five month old told me to never get used to a routine because about the time that I do, things would change again. I haven't found anything to be more true.
Today, was nothing less than one of those days. My sweet girl woke up very upset this morning. She has developed this habit, quite inconvenient in her opinion, of rolling onto her stomach while she is sleeping. Unfortunately, my daughter has not fully comprehended the freedom of her movements and remains quite reluctant to solve her own self-induced tummy time predicament.
As I waited for her to realize she is capable of flipping herself over, I stopped to imagine reminding her of this when the drama of her teenage years begin to unfold. I can just picture the scene. My daughter will be in a tizzy because the bag that she feels is appropriate for camp is too small to carry all of her items for camp. She will refuse to switch bags because she doesn't want to have "THE biggest bag" of anyone there. She will also refuse to edit what she is bringing because all her items are "essential." (Yes, this was in fact an argument I had with my parents on several occasions as a youngster). I will then laugh and recall the story of how mad she would get when she was stuck on her tummy as an infant. I probably won't stop there. I will further ruin the moment by inserting my wisdom and explaining to her that often in life things that seem so large and important at the time, turn out to be quite mundane in hindsight.
Don't worry I am well aware that she won't find it humorous in the future either, but what is a mother if she doesn't say something wrong at least once in a daughter's life? I suppose she'll be even more disgusted to find out I've been plotting since 6 months of age. Because I've been there, I predict the stormy door slamming that will ensue... I am sure that my own mother, also having anticipated this moment, will take the opportunity to remind me that I am only getting a taste of my own teenage fury.
After I'd spent a few moments chuckling at the site of my illegitimately frustrated daughter, I did finally rescue her. Wiping the tears from her face, we then made our way to the kitchen. I made up a bottle and sat down on the couch. Briony proceeded to eat only about one third of what she normally does in the morning. Curious and betting that my opinionated daughter probably had some take on how she wanted the morning to go, I mixed together some rice cereal and peaches. She was so hungry she ate through her typical breakfast portion and even polished off the left over green beans from dinner. Without belaboring the details of our day, it basically went very similarly to our morning. For the most part, my daughter reminded me that being her mom requires a lot of adapting and modifying. My child, with no words, has a voice and ever-growing opinions.
I can honestly say that in some ways I am a bit relieved. First off, I want a daughter who knows what she wants. There will certainly be trying times when we have to teach her when and when it is not appropriate to dictate her needs, but I am glad she knows she has them.
I've also never been good at a schedule. I have never really understood how it is that parents can keep their kids on a regimented routine. I am not a planner. I am a procrastinator and I fly by the seat of my pants. Schedules tie a person down. I certainly see the benefit of one, but just can't get it to work for me. Hence, and you can probably argue nature vs. nurture here, my daughter appears to be heading down a similar path.
I think the first blog I ever wrote touched on the fact that the only thing guaranteed in life is change. There is absolutely no way to keep things the same as they always were or to never lose the moment we are in. Briony reminds me of this everyday. I swear no day is the same because she is changing so quickly. In six months she has gone from a tiny seven pound three ounce newborn who did nothing more than eat, sleep and poop; to a cuddly, opinionated, growing baby. Most days I feel like she changes before my very eyes. The next six months and beyond are bound to be filled with more changes and more lessons for me, the budding momma.
Tonight, I am so thankful for my little girl. I know that I don't and won't get everything right. I know that my baby isn't perfect either. I also know that time stopped today when my normally serious child spent at least five minutes giggling at her goofy mother. Having set my cleaning aside; I soaked up that moment for all it was worth and just enjoyed her silliness. Much like she forced me to do today, I hope Briony will someday learn to relish in the simple joys of discarding routine. Maybe she'll also learn to not sweat the small stuff...
Today, was nothing less than one of those days. My sweet girl woke up very upset this morning. She has developed this habit, quite inconvenient in her opinion, of rolling onto her stomach while she is sleeping. Unfortunately, my daughter has not fully comprehended the freedom of her movements and remains quite reluctant to solve her own self-induced tummy time predicament.
As I waited for her to realize she is capable of flipping herself over, I stopped to imagine reminding her of this when the drama of her teenage years begin to unfold. I can just picture the scene. My daughter will be in a tizzy because the bag that she feels is appropriate for camp is too small to carry all of her items for camp. She will refuse to switch bags because she doesn't want to have "THE biggest bag" of anyone there. She will also refuse to edit what she is bringing because all her items are "essential." (Yes, this was in fact an argument I had with my parents on several occasions as a youngster). I will then laugh and recall the story of how mad she would get when she was stuck on her tummy as an infant. I probably won't stop there. I will further ruin the moment by inserting my wisdom and explaining to her that often in life things that seem so large and important at the time, turn out to be quite mundane in hindsight.
Don't worry I am well aware that she won't find it humorous in the future either, but what is a mother if she doesn't say something wrong at least once in a daughter's life? I suppose she'll be even more disgusted to find out I've been plotting since 6 months of age. Because I've been there, I predict the stormy door slamming that will ensue... I am sure that my own mother, also having anticipated this moment, will take the opportunity to remind me that I am only getting a taste of my own teenage fury.
After I'd spent a few moments chuckling at the site of my illegitimately frustrated daughter, I did finally rescue her. Wiping the tears from her face, we then made our way to the kitchen. I made up a bottle and sat down on the couch. Briony proceeded to eat only about one third of what she normally does in the morning. Curious and betting that my opinionated daughter probably had some take on how she wanted the morning to go, I mixed together some rice cereal and peaches. She was so hungry she ate through her typical breakfast portion and even polished off the left over green beans from dinner. Without belaboring the details of our day, it basically went very similarly to our morning. For the most part, my daughter reminded me that being her mom requires a lot of adapting and modifying. My child, with no words, has a voice and ever-growing opinions.
I can honestly say that in some ways I am a bit relieved. First off, I want a daughter who knows what she wants. There will certainly be trying times when we have to teach her when and when it is not appropriate to dictate her needs, but I am glad she knows she has them.
I've also never been good at a schedule. I have never really understood how it is that parents can keep their kids on a regimented routine. I am not a planner. I am a procrastinator and I fly by the seat of my pants. Schedules tie a person down. I certainly see the benefit of one, but just can't get it to work for me. Hence, and you can probably argue nature vs. nurture here, my daughter appears to be heading down a similar path.
I think the first blog I ever wrote touched on the fact that the only thing guaranteed in life is change. There is absolutely no way to keep things the same as they always were or to never lose the moment we are in. Briony reminds me of this everyday. I swear no day is the same because she is changing so quickly. In six months she has gone from a tiny seven pound three ounce newborn who did nothing more than eat, sleep and poop; to a cuddly, opinionated, growing baby. Most days I feel like she changes before my very eyes. The next six months and beyond are bound to be filled with more changes and more lessons for me, the budding momma.
Tonight, I am so thankful for my little girl. I know that I don't and won't get everything right. I know that my baby isn't perfect either. I also know that time stopped today when my normally serious child spent at least five minutes giggling at her goofy mother. Having set my cleaning aside; I soaked up that moment for all it was worth and just enjoyed her silliness. Much like she forced me to do today, I hope Briony will someday learn to relish in the simple joys of discarding routine. Maybe she'll also learn to not sweat the small stuff...
