There are Mom-things I'll never be good at. (Day 20)

There are all different types of Moms out there.

Smother-you-with-hugs Moms, Make-it-better-with-chocolate-chip-cookies Moms, Tough-love Moms.

And each of these Moms is really good at doing at one thing, and really horrible at doing another.

In the last 13 months, I have realized that there are just some things I will suck at. But, on the flip side, there are things I'm awesome at.

Here are some of those things:

1. Improvising. Honestly, I thought I would be a shoe-in for swaddling. I could tie a scarf in a variety of knots like nobody's business. But from that first day at the hospital – staring at my 2-day old son and the tiny blanket that was supposed to miraculously not only fit around him, but bind him into sleeping submission – I knew I was in trouble. Things got no better at home, even when I whipped out the ridiculously large muslin swaddled blankets. Max got out of those things in under 1 minute. So I bought the insta-swaddle: the baby "sleeping bag" that they were zipped into nice and tight and didn't wake or move until the morning. Easy way out? Maybe. Way out with the most sleep possible? You betcha.

Me and the swaddle were not a good mix. Max's pseudo-swaddle, the Woombie. 

This thing worked WONDERS. I highly recommend it!

2. Doing art projects. I LOVE crafts! And what better way ton spend your time then teaching other people how to do crafts! You can count on me to be all artsy all day long. Coloring? Check! Making things out of scrap paper? Check! Decorating with stickers? Double check!

3. Making sh*t up. There's nothing I love more than making Max laugh with the silly song lyrics or games I make up. Just this morning we sang my new-and-completely-made-up-song: "We're going to Grammy's house". He loved it.

4. Being the fun foodie parent. I love to cook. In fact, every week I make food for the upcoming week for Max. In fact, November was a big food introductory month for Max: farrow vegetable soup, and beef stew, kale and veggie burgers. He loved every last bite!

5. Snuggling. I could stop what I'm doing and at any point during the day for Max hugs. Right now, Max isn't that big into hugging. He begs to be picked up, and once he's up, he squirms to be put down. My favorite time is right before he fall asleep, when he snuggles into you just before closing his eye. More of that time, please!

I've found out that it doesn't matter what type of Mom you are. Your baby will love you for who you are. And for everything you're not, that's what your child's friends' parents are for.

Obituary to my former life

When you have a baby, it changes your life. 

Cliché, I know. 

But true.

I love Max more than I thought humanly possible. I love him so much that when I'm holding him, I just want to squeeze him, and eat him up (not literally, weirdos, though I have been known to munch on his ridiculously cute toes and cheeks).

A common question people ask you after you've had a baby is: "I bet you can't even remember life before Max!" then they tip their heads back and let out some co-conspirator 'Am I right?' parent laugh.

"Actually, I remember my life before Max pretty well," I say, and they stop laughing, as if I just told them I practice voodoo in the backyard.

I'm not saying I want to go back to life before Max – to be clear – but I'd be lying if I said I didn't remember it.

So it's today, Saturday morning at 6:16am, that I finally and formally bid adieu to the "used to's" and "remember when's" of my pre-Max life.

Exercising. 
Pre Max, I was going to the gym 5 days a week, running 5Ks and wearing smaller pants.

I'm probably the only person who gained weight on maternity leave (when you don't have baby weight to lose, and you sit around entertaining people who come visit the baby, and have happy hour every night and cook gourmet meals and can't bring to tear yourself away from the baby to exercise, you tend to gain a few pounds).

And exercising now that I'm back at work? Um, right. When exactly should I do that? Should I give up one of the two hours I have with Max each day? Or should I get up at 4am instead of 5am? Maybe I should skip dinner (actually, that would probably help my case, but I like food too much).

Thursday Night Date Night
Up until 7 months ago, Thursday nights were usually our night to go sit at our local bar, have a few beers, eat a late dinner and catch up.

It was perfect, I was always working late, Mr. KK had time to come home and do some work around the house and yard, we usually had zero food left in the fridge for dinner by this point in the week (or stuff that I wasn't 'in the mood for'). We'd head out around 8pm, saddle up to the bar, and start our night.

Now? The only thing I'm starting at 8pm is my walk down the hall to put my pajamas on.

Last-minute anything
Lunch in Mystic.
Overnight trip to the casino.
Day drinking then coming home and taking a nap.
Taking a nap, period.
Running to Homegoods for a 3-hour quick trip.
Squeezing in a manicure.

There is nothing "last minute" about my life anymore.
Nothing.

(Except the last-minute cancellation of things I don't have time for)

Getting Ahead (and other mythical feelings)
Once you have kids you will never get ahead. You will never feel like you've caught up on life. Feeling accomplished is a thing of the past. You will forever and always be behind.

The only way to accept this is to lower your expectations of yourself. Plan to do only ONE thing (grocery shopping, planting flowers, taking a shower) and you won't be disappointed in yourself.

(Today my thing was "write a blog post" and look at that! It's 7am and I've already accomplished everything on my list for today! Yay, me!)

Remembering sh*t
Who said, 'Of all the things I've lost, I'll miss my mind the most?' Well, that's how I feel.

I used to be someone who was on top of every detail, remembered every birthday/holiday/event. It was rather impressing.

These days, it's not uncommon for me to walk into a room and not remember why I went in there in the first place. Birthdays sneak up on me (NOTE: if you mail a card to someone ON their actual birthday, they will not get said card before their birthday.)

So farewell, former life. It was a good run.

There's a new sheriff in town, and he's small, but mighty. 

And even if I had more hours in my days to do any of the stuff in the list above, I'd still choose to spend the time with him.

Day 25: Renewing my 'Morning Person' card.

I set an alarm today for the first time in 7 weeks (don't be hatin') and I have to say…it was AWFUL.

I had an 8:30am doctor's appointment which required the night-before scheduling of someone who was planning detailed month-long trip across Europe.

With Mr. KK needing to be out of the house by 7:45am, me needing to be out by 8:15am, both of us needing to shower, me needing to blow-dry my hair (obviously I had somewhere to go today), Max needing to eat and then remain upright for 28 minutes exactly, factoring in time for diaper changing and dressing, car seat strapping in and feeding and letting out Vito, we might as well have not even gone to bed.

I set my alarm for 6:45am and I have to say, I was in denial when it went off. 

I was all like, "SHUT OFF YOUR ALARM!" and Mr. KK was like, "It's not my alarm, it's yours." 

And then I was like, "Grrr. Fine. You shower first so I have more time in bed." 

To which he replied, "I already showered."

Ugh.

We let Mr. Max sleep until 7:30am before we start HIS morning routine (did I mention this little nugget only gets up ONCE during the night and we have a 6-hour stretch after going to bed? I LOVE this kid).

Since it was before 10am, Max kept it casual and wore his pajamas to the doctor. And because he knew how tired I was, he didn't take his morning nap in an effort of solidarity in exhaustion.

Upon arriving to the doctor's office, to whom my husband and his whole family also go to (of course), everyone ooh-ed and aah-ed over Max.

Max being patient while on display at the dermatologist.

When I finally got in to see the doctor (about my pesky eczema which has tripled in horribleness since Max's birth…I blame the Purell) she, too, kept her eyes on the baby that she 'couldn't wait to meet!'

DR:  "I'll give you some cream."

KK:  "Do you want to look at my fingers? Is it even eczema?"

DR:  "Yes, it is," she says, taking her eyes off my baby for a millisecond. "How's your mother-in-law? She must be over the moon! 'Aren't you cute, Little Max! Look at you!'"

KK:  "How many times a day do I put the cream on?" Remember ME, your patient??

DR:  "Twice. Is he a good baby? Does he sleep through the night?"

Later that afternoon, Max was so exhausted with getting up and out of the house that he had to take a 3-hour nap. Seriously. When was the last time you took a 3-hour nap? This kid has the life.

Just nappin' in Mommy's lappin'.

Nap time was followed up with giraffe playtime.

How many giraffes does one boy need? 

Three. A squeaky one, a crinkly one and a rattle one.

When did I become so soft that I couldn't get up in the 6 o'clock hour? I used to get up at 5am and be out the door in the car on my way to the gym in Westport by 5:30am every day. Now I can't manage to pull my body out of bed before 7:30 (or whenever Max wakes up…sometimes it's 8am. Don't hate me.)

But I can't complain at all. When I read those articles about women who are walking zombies because they're getting no sleep I feel rather guilty. I get a combined 7-8 hours each day, and I feel great each morning.

I've actually gotten the compliment, "You look GREAT! And well-rested."

Hey, I'll take it! And I'll work on reviving my 'Morning Person' card come January.

Day 20: Feeling flat.

Today Max and I were visiting a friend for lunch so we were all dressed up. Max in his hipster eyeglasses onesie and navy pants with tartan plaid cuffs (ridiculously cute), and me in jeans, a cream colored knit shawl and my brown suede booties with the SLIGHT wedge heel.

I was carrying Max in his car seat out to the car in the driveway when I fell. While I was carrying the baby.

I KNOW.

Our driveway is old and VERY uneven, and there's a hole in the asphalt where it meets the concrete of the garage. And my foot caught the hole the wrong way.

I remember thinking, "Oh my god, I'm falling while I'm carrying the baby. My family is going to kill me. I'm going to break the baby!"

The whole thing happened in slow motion. I was falling forward, both hands on the handle of the car seat. I just wanted to hold onto to him tightly. 

The car seat barely hit the ground with a soft bump, bump – completely upright.

Max is fine. (Should I have started with that?) My left knee, however, has seen better days.

Yeah, that's going to leave a mark.

In fact, Max had no idea something went wrong; he didn't even wake up. I think my right hand reached out for the car. My left hand was on the handle of the car seat. But it was my knee that took the brunt of the fall. All that was going through my mind was, "Don't let go of the car seat!" and "I'm never wearing heels again!"

I was a little dazed right after, sort of like when you were younger and you'd get the wind knocked out of you in gym class. My knee hurt like a bitch, but miraculously my jeans didn't rip.

I hobbled over to the car and put Max into his car seat. My little nugget opened an eye to give me a once-over then went back to sleep. 

I gingerly climbed into the driver's seat and sat there for a few minutes. Had I really forgotten how to walk in heels over the last 6 weeks? Has that part of my pre-Max life completely shut down? What's next for me? Mom jeans???

I knew what I had to do. It broke my heart, but it was time to be Max's Mom and tuck my heels into the back of closet. Adios, my friends. We had a good run. I quietly mourned my kitten heel black booties; those camel ankle boots that are the softest leather in the universe that I love so much; and my new metallic pointy toe heels that I've only worn 3 times and that go with everything. 

It's time for this Mama to go all flats, all the time. (Don't worry, heels, I'll dust you guys off for date night!)

Proof that Max is FINE; here he is in his food coma that same afternoon:

My knee, on the other hand, is a pretty black and blue and has a shooting pain every time I forgetfully kneel on it.