Crafting a Better Me

With the onset of motherhood a piece of me feared losing myself between the soiled diapers and the endearing expressions produced by Ramlet.  One thing the best mamas I've observed have in common is they continue a personal identity while adding mothering to their talents.  A quilter shouldn't give up design, a music lover their groovy mixes.

While waiting out early pregnancy's morning sickness (aka all-day nausea/dizziness/etc), I developed a plan of action for my months before Ramlet's arrival.  Some of the items were practical, like finding a new place to live and moving.  Some goals involved art and creations I worried would never materialize with a newborn's incessant schedule.

Counted Cross-Stitch: more tedious than morning sickness.

My month-by-month action plan blossomed larger than essential tasks and tardy creative intentions. I began considering motherhood an opportunity for me to become more of who I am by crafting a better me.  So I pried myself away from the gripping "your growing body/baby" books to reread the entire Bible.  I wanted a refresher on what I believe, on the hope I want to pass on to Ramlet.  I jazzed up this ambitious goal by reading The Message translation supplemented by my trusty pocket NIV.

Do not be deceived.  The smaller book is much, much longer.  Sneaky tiny font.

As I crossed off items on the pre-baby action plan, I realized crafting a better me doesn't end with the Ramlet's birth.  For better or worse, being a mom is being a closely scrutinized example for a child.  And I don't want my child to be chronically late, to use sloppy language, or to slack on developing his talents.

I'm going to fail, often, but I'm not going to let that be a deterrent from trying.  So I'm going to respect other people's time by being on time.  Instead of being lazy with my words I'm going to use precise language (for example: "I hate poopy diapers" when I mean "Poopy diapers stink!").  And, yes, I'm writing every day--even when I only find time to scribble down a few notes.  Someday I may want to finish that novel or simply remember the first time Ramlet hugged me back.

Have you ever used a major life transition to craft a better you?

Confessions of a List-Maker Gone Maternal

Have I mentioned how much I love to organize with notebooks?  I'm guessing my love of lists permeates this blog.  Many scratched down blogpost ideas involve lists.  It's probably a good thing I don't write all of these blogposts--boredom would underwhelm.

Just before Ramlet was born, I reached the point of needing to replace my primary list notebook.  I knew then my list-making days were about to change.

Non-variety: the consistency of life.

My lists these days are short.  I usually only write a one-page weekly list as opposed to pushing myself to accomplish as much five days out of seven.  And, really, my high priority goals are as follows:

1.  Make the bed.  It gives a day, no matter what hours you're keeping, rhythm.
2.  Take a shower.  Refreshing and relaxing ... and surprisingly hard to plan with a newborn's whimsical schedule.
3.  Do a load of laundry.  Between breastfeeding, cloth diapers, and general infant behavior, laundry piles up quickly.
4.  Get out of the house.  Sitting on the porch: not good enough.  Checking the mail: borderline.  Taking out the trash and recycling: technically accurate, but void of spirit.  Strolling Ramlet around the neighborhood or running an errand (gasp) alone when Husband's watching Ramlet: ideal.
5.  Write something.

#5 is one of three personal objectives I determined will make me a better parent for Ramlet.  The other two?  Well, hopefully, I'll get the chance to share those thoughts before this week is out.  Right now I need to go check on the baby.

Anyone notice the irony of me writing about my overuse of lists and then using one in the same entry?  It's an organizational method I can't avoid.  How do you stay organized?

Welcome Ramlet!

We did it!*

Sylvia Plath, in "Morning Song," sums it up:

"Love set you going like a fat gold watch.

The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry

Took its place among the elements."

* Back in August.

13 Ways to Induce Labor

It's been awhile, no?  And, a lot's happened.  While there's almost too much to write about, I'll bring you the highlights from the last (gasp) two months in the next few posts.  Then I'll get back to the adventure found in each new day.

Nine months pregnant: when waddling replaces walking.

This list, originally meant to be a parody of Wallace Stevens "13 Ways of Looking at a Blackbird,"* sums up the last week of my pregnancy.  (*Except when I reread this poem, I realized I remembered liking it more than I actually like it.  Hence, not spending the time giving it a shout out via parody.)

1.  Host an open house party.  (Ours involved ice cream.)

2.  Eat take-out Indian food based on the rumor spicy food kicks off contractions.

3.  Go to Babies R Us and casually park in the expectant mother parking.  Who knows how much longer you'll be able to take advantage of this perk.

4.  Take an extra nap just because you're worried you'll never sleep again after your baby's born.

5.  Make a tray of chicken enchiladas for the freezer and eat the other one.  Mexican food qualifies as spicy, right?

6.  Run an errand to the local baby boutique to exchange one item for the same item in another color.  You must coordinate the baby's dirty diaper bags after all.

7.  At the last minute, host overnight a couple who are friends of friends.  Bonus if one guest is also nine months pregnant.

8.  Spend some, um, quality time with Husband.

9.  Walk to the farm truck and carry all of the produce you purchase home.  Extra points if the bags weigh more than the average combined weight of a newborn and a car seat.

10.  Get up in the middle of the night because you feel "weird" and haven't finished recopying your "Books to Check Out" list.  Nursing will be a one-handed activity, right?

11.  Date night with Husband at a fancy Turkish restaurant.  Come on spicy food!

12.  Go to the grocery store so you can waddle around somewhere with air-conditioning.  Park in the "Customers with Infants" parking spaces because you figure you're close enough to meeting the criteria.

13.  Browse a bookstore looking for the perfect notebook to kick off your next project for all of the free time in your life.

The Price of Freezer Real Estate

Unless you're lactose-intolerant or out of town, I'm not sure there's a valid excuse to skip a Make-Your-Own Ice Cream Sundae/Shake/Soda Party.  Yesterday Husband & I hosted such an event.  Guests brought their favorite toppings; everyone indulged.  Oh, to snub those ice cream trucks taunting their inane jingles that drive everyone even more batty on these days with triple-digit heat indexes.

The leftovers: 50% left in each tub.  A gap left for the one fully consumed tub of vanilla.

Our freezer, it seems, also feels some excess.  Whereas Husband, Sherbet (who entertained the company in hopes for free licks of ice cream or, preferably, whipped cream), & I would ordinarily find additional sharing venues for such frozen delights, time is not on our side.  In fact, we've been trying to stock the freezer with healthy, homemade meals for after Ramlet's birth.  To facilitate the transfer of chicken enchiladas, swiss cheese veggie quiche, and cheddar cheese with asparagus and sausage quiche from refrigerator to freezer, Husband took three cartons of ice cream to work.  I probably should feel guilty for hanging on to the Black Raspberry Chocolate and the Cookies & Cream, but right now I just wish I had a larger freezer.

Before the ice cream donation.

In the above picture, most of the plastic bags are filled with homemade pizzas courtesy of friends who are new parents and wanted to help stock us up for the first few days (weeks?) of parenthood.  Husband & I added enchiladas, quiches, beef and veggie roasts, carrot apple breakfast bread, and inside-out cabbage rolls to the collection.  If time permits, I'll contribute a bag of French Toast and a pan of eggplant parmesan to our menu options.


Any ideas on what else to freeze in preparation for the little bundle who's eating will take precedence over ours?