I had a friend ask me an interesting question yesterday while we were out running errands for Lily’s birthday party. One I’ve thought about often in my own head, but never really addressed out loud. “Is it true you don’t have a life once you have kids?” My friend asked. I smiled at the question because it’s one I struggled with in the first few months within having Lily and, every once in a while, still think about. “Yea, you do lose your life” I shrugged, “but, honestly, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.” “It’s not like we were really into partying that we’d miss not doing it anymore,” she said. “I know! Remember you’d have to drag me to go out with you at nights? But it’s even the little things you really can’t do anymore. Like, I can’t go to a bookstore to leisurely browse their books over a cup of coffee. Everything just changes, but it’s not a bad thing. Why, who told you your life ends?” “EVERYBODY! You’re the only person I know who is happily married with a kid. Everyone else is miserable.” I wasn’t really sure what to say to that, except, “I’ve always wanted to be a mom. When people daydreamed about their wedding, I dreamed about my kids and what I’d name them. I can’t imagine working right now and missing these most important years of her life! I think a lot of people have babies without realizing the responsibility and self sacrifice that goes into it.” “Yeah,” she replied, “like my ex-best-friend, when she met her husband they both just disowned all their friends and do everything together. She said she doesn’t want kids because it will get in the way of how much fun they have together.” “That’s good that she knows she doesn’t want them before it’s too late!” I intercepted, “That’s why a lot of people are miserable, they realize after!”

What do you all think of this conversation? Are a lot of people you know miserable in their relationship and regretting that they have kids? How do you balance your “me” time in between kids and everything else?

A few days ago my sister, my little one, and I were passing through the dollar section of Target when I heard something that made me laugh. But then the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if it was actually funny or rather on the offensive side. I told the story to my mom, her friend and my aunt but neither of them found it offensive, but more as a fact. I’m wondering if it’s because they’re of an older generation. I’d like to see what your thoughts are on this matter, so let me recount what happened:

A child, maybe about 2 or 3 years old, is sitting in the shopping cart pointing at something he wants from one of the dollar bins at Target. The father is trying to figure out what his son is pointing at by holding items up within the proximity of his aim. As I passed him, I saw him holding up a plastic truck. That clearly wasn’t it, because I heard him say, “This one? You want this one?” a few more times before he said, “You want this? No, this isn’t a toy, this is for mommy when she wants to clean the pots and pans and dishes.”

Upon hearing that, I chuckled and shook my head. My sister said that the only reason it’s funny to me is because I don’t ever do the dishes and am probably the only person who has a husband that does it. I don’t think I’m the only exception. I’d like to think times have changed! In my mother’s generation it was expected of the wife to cook, clean and do all the in between while the husband worked. With so many wives and mothers also working, isn’t a comment like that offensive? Stereotypical? Is the father sending the wrong message to his child who represents the future generation? I’d love to know what you think! Am I wrong? Or, in this day and age, are we somewhere in between the past and the present?

I used to be coldhearted. Growing up in a very dysfunctional family one learns to develop walls and boundaries. My mechanism was pretending to be strong by letting things bounce off me, slide off my shoulder, just letting it go. By doing that in front of you, in my mind I portrayed myself as strong, in your eyes I was a coldhearted bitch. As I got older, even after my parents divorced and our family split in half, it seemed as though the bricklayers within me were still hard at work, adding layers to a wall that seemed indestructible. In college once people got to know me they would confess that they were initially intimidated by me because I came off as such a mean girl. How do you bring down a wall that’s taken years and years to build? And, how would I protect myself if it did come down? In college I went through what I call a ‘cocky’ phase where I even pushed good friends away by just ignoring them. Even my best friend who was my roommate got the cold shoulder as I tried to deal with my demons alone. It was my lowest point. I had no self confidence, I hated myself and in order to keep my sanity and avoid my feelings I kept myself busy with extra school activities, internships, waitressing jobs, an extra degree! What you saw was an over achiever, but I was just running away from, God forbid, feeling anything. All I knew was to desensitize myself in order to survive, I didn’t know that you can run and run and run, but eventually everything will catch up with you in time. Working in my first ‘real’ job after college I received a phone call that really swept the rug from under me and left me speechless. All I felt was hurt and all I could do was cry. So, I closed my office door and let the tears pour as I’ve done many nights in my bedroom, alone. Of course, it didn’t take long before a co-worker knocked on my door and without waiting for a reply, just barged in to find me standing there weeping. His reaction? A shocked expression as he exclaims, “YOU HAVE FEELINGS?!” “GET OUT!!” I reply. The walls are up as a defense mechanism to try and protect me from you. It doesn’t me I’m not affected by sticks, stones and words. It only means that I will never let you know that I’ve been affected. Needless to say I had never been in a serious relationship. That’s not to say I didn’t want to be nor tried many times to be. But, apparently, my lack of emotion either drove men away or eventually led me to go astray. As much as I didn’t believe in love, I wanted and needed it. But how do you know what love is, when you’ve never known it? Not the mother and daughter kind, but real love between a man and woman. I searched in vain for years. Then in a matter of one night, an exchange of silly words that make us laugh now, I met the man that was ‘The One’. Unintentionally he continues to bring down these walls, layer after layer they crash and crumble and I feel the weight being lifted. He’s not a perfect person, he has his flaws just as I have mine. We argue and fight, just as everyone does. But that LOVE we feel for one another is so intense and real that from the very beginning, I never dared to push it away. With patience he brought out the best in me, just as he says I did the same for him. And now, I cry with ease. I cry watching commercials, listening to love songs, romantic movies mean something now and sometimes I can just sit and think about him and feel the tears on my cheeks. My old family may still be dysfunctional, split in half or not, but my new family is functioning quite well. I wonder how people perceive me now?

I had a great pregnancy with Lily. From the beginning to, well, almost the end (by month 8 I had pretty much checked out of life and spent my days and nights trying to focus on not focusing on my lower back pain!) Other than that last month, I felt good and being pregnant was fun! I was rocking a big belly and as far as I’m concerned I had gained the perfect amount of weight. Everyone was telling me that ‘pregnancy looked good on me’ and that I was ‘glowing’. In all fairness, I also took the time to take care of myself. I went for my monthly mani and pedi, kept up with my skin care routine (which is pretty much just washing and moisturizing my face before bed), I dressed well, fixed up my hair. I took the time to look good. In all my pregnancy pictures in Lily’s scrapbook I look happy and well put together.

Well, I suppose not all pregnancies are the same. When I was being showered with compliments while pregnant with Lily, I heard numerous stories about pregnant women who developed really bad acne while pregnant, or instead of their hair getting full and shiny like mine was, it got stringy and thinned out, or they just got really UGLY. Nothing specific changed about them, it’s just that their features just transformed into pure UGLY. I didn’t know what they were talking about, pregnancy was a beautiful thing! How can anyone look ugly pregnant?

Fast forward a year or so later and I know exactly what they were talking about. I haven’t developed really bad acne and my hair isn’t thin and stringy but I definitely am experiencing a serious case of ugly. With or without makeup, I still feel BLAH, so who has time to even bother with it? It’s not like my no longer existent monthly mani and pedi is going to make much of a difference, so who has time to bother with that? I can’t exactly ‘fix up’ hair that’s a good 2 inches above my shoulders (I chopped off over 12 inches to donate to Pantene Beautiful Length a few months ago). Who has time to straighten and curl with a baby anyway? My routine now is shower and go! Oh yeah, my skin care routine that was really just washing and moisturizing-that doesn’t happen anymore either! Even if I happen to have makeup on, I just sleep with it and go the next day with day old makeup on-without even touching it up! As far as clothes go, I have a handful of outfits depending on the occasion. If I’m home all day with the exception of going out to eat with hubby and baby, I don’t reach further than my sweats drawer. If I’m going to visit family or friends, I have 2 nice pants and like 3 different tops that I switch up. I haven’t even looked inside my closet, other than to literally throw something in there, since I came back from my London trip in November! You don’t even want to look inside my closet, the pile on the floor is so high I can barely even see what’s on the hangers!

I know what you’re all thinking. Maybe there’s a reason I’m looking so toe up! Now that I’m writing this out, I’m starting to realize it as well. Maybe my resolution should have been to take better care of myself. I did think about it, but starting a blog seemed easier and more doable. But once our move to Virginia is official and we are settling in to our new life, I promise to myself that I will try!

Watching Sesame Street Together..Hubby says:
‘Fekr mikone khooneye khodeshe injoori tekye dade?’

It’s almost 11 am. Hubby is asleep, sick in bed. Baby is asleep in her crib, taking a nap. And I get to sit, relax and unwind. Sigh.

I have been looking at my calendar a lot lately. My brain hurts constantly thinking about the days and dates and how many days until this and how many days until that. We have to sort through what we need and get rid of all the stuff we don’t. Buy boxes. Sell furniture. We have one month to pack what took us almost 5 years to acquire.

Aside from that headache, we also have a birthday party to prepare for. Lily is turning the BIG O-N-E, and as proud parents, it’s a perfect reason to celebrate! We have to buy the decorations, order the cake, find her perfect outfit, bag the party favors and wrap the prizes. I’m putting together a video montage of her entire one year. A dvd that we’ll play at the party, but I’m mostly making it for her as a keepsake-something she can look back on in the years to come.

Sigh.

As a wife and mother, there is already SO much to do in a day! This morning I woke up at 6:16am. From then until now I have: Fed a growing baby on numerous occasions (oatmeal with fruit, mashed up honeydew melon, a handful of cheerios, formula). I fed a sick hubby. Chopped up fruit for when he wakes up. And, quickly fed myself as Lily was occupied with Sesame Street. I consoled a crying baby who hit her head against the cabinet as she yanked on my pants trying to get my attention as I attempted to wash the dishes. I again, consoled a crying baby who was nearing her nap time and was being grumpy and clingy and wanting to be held. I finally put baby to sleep.