Papoe

Transitions in life

I started a new job yesterday, which means that my head is stuck somewhere between a rock and a foggy place. Returning to full-time work is exciting and daunting, and I haven’t been this tired since… oh well, actually just a few weeks ago when both girls decided to get up numerous times during the night. The difference is that I hurt all over. Perhaps my body doesn’t like the fact that I’ve moved my ass from the couch to a chair. Or my eyes and ears miss the sounds of the television rocking my world (or boring me to death) while I work.

My heart misses my girls.

I got a bit melancholy on Monday when I realized that it was the last day for the three of us to hang out. To celebrate, we did nothing. We stayed in our pajamas, snacked on apples and crackers, played kitchen, sorted and read books, watched Sesame Street, and took a long leisurely afternoon nap.

The girls have already been attending daycare part-time (Jocelyn for a year and a half, Aja for a few weeks), and I am eager to take the next step forward in my career, so this should be an easy transition. Right?

Right.

Is there something on my face?

Dinnertime is becoming even more fun now that Aja is starting to feed herself. Jocelyn thought it was funny and egged her on, which only lead to a bigger mess.

Yum yum.

It's called personal responsibility

I have had a rather flippant attitude towards the idea of resolutions, as witnessed by my recent letter to Jocelyn and Aja. I hadn’t written them a letter since Flag Day, and so it really felt like it was time. But as far resolutions go, I wasn’t planning on making any of my own, until today. I make this resolution, not because it’s something that I don’t do, but rather, because god dammit, someone needs to. Here it is: “I will take responsibility for my actions.”

Two things in particular pinched my nerve today.

1. If you pay any attention to the news then you most likely have heard about that the study that linked MMR vaccines to autism has been deemed fraudulent. I understand the outrage that some families feel—families that used Dr. Andrew Wakefield’s study as the “reason” why they would not vaccinate their children. Don’t get me wrong, I have questioned vaccinations myself, and I did choose to deliberately space out the shots for my girls so that they wouldn’t have to endure five at one time. But I believe that vaccinations were created for the sole purpose of saving lives, and I wasn’t swayed by research that dealt with such a small sample of children.

I think it’s okay if there are parents that disagree. I know there are many.  I think this situation is horrible, in every sense of the word, and that the authorities should find a way to charge Andrew Wakefield with some sort of crime (his medical license has already been revoked). If he did deliberately falsify his research he has done irreparable harm. Yet I don’t agree with this response: In the Good Morning America segment there was a brief interview with a couple about the new findings. They did not vaccinate their son, and they now blame Andrew Wakefield for their son contracting a virus (it wasn’t clear which disease he contracted). Their anger is justified but they place sole blame on him. Yet THEY chose not to vaccinate their child. Andrew Wakefield was not present in the doctor’s office, pressuring them to make a choice.

Some people will also be quick to blame Jenny McCarthy, who has been outspoken in her belief that vaccinations are linked to autism. But one of her points remains true: YOU are your child’s best advocate. And as an advocate you need to do what you think is best for your child. This includes admitting when you are wrong. There are families that continue to stick by the original findings. More power to them. I’m not trying to say I’m right and “you’re” wrong. I’m just saying that if I’m wrong I’ll suck it up and admit it. You should too.

2. Which brings me to Katy Read and her article on Salon.com, “Regrets of a stay-at-home mom.”

Since becoming a mother I have tried to steer clear of the stay-at-home-mom versus working-mother debates. Frankly, I don’t think it should be a debate. I think mothers should support one another, regardless of the time spent in or out of the home.

So I was intrigued by the title of this article. And then after reading it, I became angry. The subtitle says it all: “Consider this a warning to new mothers: Fourteen years ago, I ‘opted out’ to focus on my family. Now I’m broke.” In summary, she equates staying home with your child as a path to poverty. She calls this, “a warning from the front lines.”

There is no certainty in life, so why on earth would you set yourself on a path and never reevaluate things from a financial perspective? She states that the issue of reentering the workforce was underreported in the media. Beyond that, she also blames her stay-at-home status for the fact that she can’t provide for her sons’ college educations.

In other words, her bubble has burst and she believes that someone else forced her into the bubble in the first place.

This article could have been used as a platform to evaluate the financial ramifications of staying at home, from one woman’s perspective. She could have offered advice to new mother’s that are debating staying home or continuing to work. Instead, she simply complains and provides nothing more than a futile warning. Katy Read: you are one stay at home mother. You do not represent ALL stay-at-home mothers. There are numerous circumstances that lead anyone into a life of poverty, so please take your regrets, reevaluate your warnings, and take responsibility for your actions.

A New Year's letter to my daughters

Dear Jocelyn and Aja,

Twenty-ten was a wonderful year and we’ve grown as a family, but there’s something that’s bothering me. It’s now January 4^th and neither of you have made any resolutions. This means only one thing: you will accomplish NOTHING this year. Don’t you have goals and aspirations? I know there have only been three candles blown out between the two of you but I don’t think that it’s fair to discriminate against you based on age. New Year’s, in its truest form, is about rediscovering what you love, and, more importantly, it gives you a chance to find out what sucks. About you. Then you can figure out what steps need to be taken in order to change. Write it down and tell your friends because someone will need to remind you how hard and how quickly you have failed.

Aja, you defied the odds last year, growing out of your premature frame into a bouncing baby with the determination of a pit bull. You laugh, you walk, you eat every meal as though it were your last. But you hate your crib with a passion, which is painful for me because I want you out of my bed. I miss my husband. You love him too—you love him MOST of all—and perhaps this is your game. As your opponent, I can say that try as you might, YOU WILL LOSE. So go ahead and resolve to stake your claim on the middle of the big bed. But you better have a backup resolution if you want this year to be a success.

Jocelyn, I suggest that you watch what you say because language can get you in trouble. Just today you proved that there’s a fine line between baby talk and adult conversation. Your vocabulary has expanded, and while I am proud that you used it correctly, I must, as a mother, publicly scold you for this:

“That was fucking crazy Mommy.”

“What did you say?”

“It was fucking crazy Mommy. Fucking crazy.”

I have no idea where you learned such crass language but it needs to stop immediately. Your New Year’s resolution: find a synonym for fuck. And be sure to use it correctly.

As for me, I will try and be a better mother than I was last year. And by try, I mean that I will do what it takes to get through the day. Some days that may mean that we’ll all cuddle together and read a book or bake a fake cake in your new kitchenette, and other days we’ll retreat to separate corners and wait for Sesame Street to end before we utter a word to one another. I’m about to start working full-time for the first time since before you both were born. This means that we’re all going to have to get used to a new routine. And a year from now, we can look at the ways we prospered and failed, and together we can say:

"That was a really fucking great year."

Love,

Mommy

Snuggle up to Christmas

This was taken last night by my dear husband, who knows me well enough to know that an A's Snuggie would make me smile. It's big enough to cover our whole family of four and it's so ugly, it's beautiful. And yes, that's the Yule Log burning on the television. We used our own holiday soundtrack, highlighted by Autumn Wind is a Raider and GoGo Christmas, prompting the best Christmas dance party I've seen in quite some time. My smile says it all: I'm thankful... now where did my wine go?

Reverb10, Day 25. Prompt: Photo - a present to yourself. Sift through all the photos of you from the past year. Choose one that best captures you; either who you are, or who you strive to be. Find the shot of you that is worth a thousand words. Share the image, who shot it, where, and what it best reveals about you.