.SOMETIMES RAW.

Hello there! 

I just finished a paper for one of my classes and am not tired enough to go to bed. So I thought, I pour myself a glass of wine and share a little story with the world. A story that was/is challenging and shaping for Petit Joel and I. When I attended an orientation session at my University last week my advisor told me that everybody has to take a certain introduction class on Wednesday evening. This class is ONLY taught in Fall and every new student to the program has to take it ASAP. I am alone here these days. Le husband is back to work in Somalia (sigh) so Petit Joel and I are on our own. Is it single-parenting? Yes and No. We Skype with le husband a lot (A LOT!) but he is just not physically here to deal with all this stuff that goes on. So university and daycare is all good. Unless, someone (Petit Joel) get’s really sick or some other nerve-wracking things come up.  He has been in Daycare of one week and is sick (awful cold, flees at the daycare and whatnot) so I kept him at home today to see a pediatrician.

Needless to say, I had plans for Tuesday. Two huge papers are due as well as four large chapters and articles to read and take notes. So I thought I go to the University gym in the morning and afterwards get all my readings and writings done in the library before picking him up in the afternoon. Fail! We both did not sleep too well last night due to his severer cough and for the first time I have been hit with this struggle of motherhood. Sweet motherhood! So far, it was all fun, you know?! I got off on a tangent here but I am slightly struggling. 

Last Wednesday was the day when I, for the first time, needed to attend this evening class and had nobody to take care of Petit Joel. I found a babysitter in one day with the help of a friend in class. All I knew about the person was that she is a grandma, has several years of experience with kids and babysitting and that she is a converted Muslim. Okay, I thought. Who cares what her religious believes are, as long as she takes care of my son. I am not a racist. Far from it. So after writing back and forth with her on the phone, she finally called and told me to relax. Petit Joel will be fine, no need to worry and she will be at my house at 5pm. I cleaned the entire house because I thought she has to feel comfortable. I stocked up the fridge so she has something to eat. She arrived at 5.30pm and I instantly had a comfortable connection with her. I don’t know what it was. Maybe the age, maybe the grandma-feeling. I felt Petit Joel and her would hit it off. And they did. I showed her around the house and had to leave literally ten minutes after she arrived. It was okay. Petit Joel cried and so did I, on my way to class. It was the first time. She sent me pictures and messages throughout the evening, brought him to bed, read to him and when I arrived back home everything was okay. He was sound asleep.  She did not need anything to eat either and simply sat on the couch reading her book. She brought toys for him and books. I am just the most nervous mom you could imagine. Even today, when I went to the pediatrician to get his cough checked out. The doctor said he is fine and that I could have dropped him at the daycare in the morning. 

You live and learn. This reminded me of a book I read to review not too long ago. I believe it will be released next week if you want to purchase it. It is so funny and spot-on. 

Babysitters. A little excerpt from the book. And I can relate. 

Hello! Thank you so much for watching little [Insert Baby’s Name Here] while we are out eating a hurried-yet-romantic dinner/seeing a movie for the first time in months/attempting to enjoy some higher form of “culture” while checking our phones every fourteen seconds to see if there are any messages from you. [Insert Baby’s Name Here] is almost always happy and relaxed and should give you almost no problems, but just in case we have given you detailed notes to ensure that things go smoothly!

[Insert Baby’s Name Here] usually goes to bed without a problem, as long as her bedtime routine is executed flawlessly and without variation.

6:00-7:34 Dinner. It’s very important to us that she gets a good serving of fruits and vegetables! In the fridge is a container of organic, homemade zucchini quinoa and ricotta fritters. Cut two of them up into small (pea-size or smaller) pieces, mix with brown rice, and allow her to sprinkle it on the floor before giving her Cheerios or a mozzarella stick. If she clamors for a cookie, she is not allowed to have one unless she has eaten one-eight of a fourth of the mozzarella stick. We are super strict about this!

7:34-7:48 Bathtime. Bath toys are in a mesh bag under the sink. She is super great about bathing, but FYI, doesn’t like having water touch her skin, so please be mindful.

7:48-8:00 She will want to sit in the rocking chair while listening to the Eagles (note: NOT “HOTEL CALIFORNIA”). She’ll be most comfortable if you sing along with most of the songs. If you don’t know the lyrics, the three-ring binder with typed-out Eagles lyrics is on the bottom left-hand corner of the bookshelf.

8:00-8:37 Read her The Very Hungry Caterpillar over and over, but skip the pages where the caterpillar is eating things other than fruits and vegetables. (Don’t want to set a bad precedent!)

8:37-8:39 Change her diaper and either brush her teeth or casually forget to do this.

8:40-?? Rock her in the rocking chair with the lights off. If at any point she seems anxious or confused or indifferent please text me so I can incessantly worry about it! Thx!

Petit Joel is coughing his lungs out. Signing off. Have a great day. 

Hey out there! 

There I was, on the playground with Petit Joel all afternoon. I had my workout pants on, my new sneakers and a t-shirt just because you never know. Petit Joel played nicely in the sand; first alone, then with other kids. I overheard conversations other parents had who sat close to me while I read my book. They said nothing of major interest and I tried to tune them out also mostly because of the high pitched voices.  The conversations literally evolved around “my baby is number one“, “we have signed up little Milo for piano lessons at age two, my nipples were so sore after breastfeeding last night, can I borrow your breast pump, has anybody heard of these new diapers that are out now, my husband is the best father ever to I have to go now because Ann-Marie’s violin class starts.

Out of a sudden, Petit Joel cried and was covered in sand. “Milo, stop throwing sand at the other boy,” one mom screamed then continued talking to someone else. Of course Milo did it again. And again and his mom just looked at me with these what-can-I-do-eyes. They are just kids, right? Petit Joel threw some sand back at Milo and everything was a-okay again. Now Milo cried. “Milo never does that. Your son must have provoked him, “Milo’s mom said. At this point I put my book to the side. Why can’t I just read in peace because this book is awesome and so funny. 

Milo’s mom on the other hand was not in the mood for fun at this point. Petit Joel was fine. He rubbed the sand off and discovered new toys. Who remained was Milo, Milo’s mom, Milo’s mom’s three friends and I. (and my book) For some reason and totally out of the blue, all mom’s attacking me at this point. How well behaved their kids are, and how they never throw anything. “And by the way, we have never seen you at this playground anyway, “one bitchy mom said. It was a hot day. Sticky and even a bit humid. I was still calm to this point. Seriously was. Sort of like, “F…you, mean moms. I just want to read my book here in the shade!” 

“So why are you here at this playground with your rude son? Instead of sitting here reading, you could just take better care of him so he won’t hit our kids with sand!” That did it. I smiled at them and told them that I just moved here and that I am gratefully sorry for what Petit Joel did. Out of a sudden, they all wanted to be my friend. The my-son-is-number-one-mom wanted to be my friend. I thought about running away + book but there was Petit Joel enjoying the slide so much that I started a “conversation” with them. It started innocently enough by just some small talk. “Oh, wow, so your husband’s job is really dangerous, huh?” “Do you miss him?” “Do you want to have more kids?” “Wow, Germany is really fantastic. All that beer and the Octoberfest!” [Strangely, this is mostly the first thing people tell me when they find out I am from Germany. Why is that?] The conversation itself bothered me because I felt, they could not care less about me. Every time I asked them something, they changed the subject and came right back with some other dumb question. 

I just mentioned that Petit Joel started preschool and they have to rest from 1pm to 3 pm every day. Petit Joel did not take an afternoon nap since he is one year old. Gone were two hours of daily freedom. I just mentioned that I cannot wait to see how he is doing in preschool. “Well, Milo (damn you, Milo’s mom) slept right through from the beginning. Even when he was still inside of me, he slept through the night. Usually, he would sleep all day too, just to let you know,” Milo’s mom said. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, that is so great and wonderful, ” I said while packing my things to leave. People like her just annoy me so much. What’s with the competition? We are in this boat together. All mom’s know that some days suck so badly you would love to leave your kid at Småland at IKEA and never pick it up again.  But why are some moms like this? Petit Joel is fluent in German and English, but HER kid is fluent in six languages. He can also pee the alphabet in the sand and started some quantum physics exercises with his dad. 

I like competition. Whenever it comes to sports and whatnot I want my team or me to win. But the mompetition even started while I was pregnant. “Oh, you gained that much weight? I just gained five pounds throughout the entire pregnancy!” Whatever. Judging all the time but why? A natural childbirth to a medicated one, sushi or no sushi while pregnant, a glass of wine or not or schnaps. I gave these women what they deserved. A pat on the back and a compliment. What a great job you are doing! A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!  You can be proud of yourself. There have been times when I wanted to step up to enter this non existent game of who the better parents/mom is but who the hell cares. No time for this. And usually, when I ask super-moms for tips, they shut down pretty quickly, too. “So how did you potty-train Milo? You said he was clean at six months, right?” Questions like this can sometimes also backfire, so be prepared to listen to stories for three hours +. 

I reckon it is all about their own insecurities so they are attempting to make you feel bad so they can shine. I just know that I do my best for Petit Joel. I give everything I have and more that seems right for him and me. “Bye Milo,” Petit Joel said while he climbed in the stroller. He looked at me and said,”Time to go and eat, Mommy. Had enough.” My sweet boy. And it was Milo who threw the sand first. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hSEPA6TIgzc

“You’re off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting,
So… get on your way!”
― Dr. Seuss, Oh, The Places You’ll Go!

A couple of months ago, a friend of mine told me that she is going through some major changes in her life. She told me she stopped smoking, drinking and started working out like crazy. “Major changes – a real 360 degree change,” she said while sipping her coffee. My family and I go through some changes as well. There is a big milestone ahead of Petit Joel. He will start preschool tomorrow. Even typing this gives me tiny goosebumps. How is this even possible? I just gave birth to him, right? How I used to rock him to sleep on my bed before he drifted off. Then I smelled his hair or felt his tiny breath on my neck, thinking about all the places he will go. How our life together will be, who he will become. 

Yesterday I bought him a baseball hat because he needs one for preschool. He looks so grown up. Also, while going through his clothes to find something nice for him to wear tomorrow, I realized that a bunch of stuff is too short already. Again! Didn’t we just purchase those jeans?  All this stuff runs through my head. Thinking how he was last year or the year before. And one day, he will walk to school alone for the first time. It feels so weird sometimes. So unreal, thinking about how it is all going from where I was a couple of years ago. I never wanted to have children and suddenly we are here, getting ready for a new chapter in his tiny life. 

Oh, The Places You’ll Go by Dr. Seuss 

This evening I made dinner for Petit Joel and we sat together later with a book and talked for a while. There was a little tree trimming action in the park where we live and Petit Joel loved it. It is always interesting to ask about chainsaws and whatnot when it is time to go to bed I reckon. He laid his head in my lap and asked me to pet his hair. He was quiet for some time after and I took it all in; enjoyed the silence and thinking that I will remember this night probably forever. Soon however it will feel that this day will be a million miles away and he will go to school. I was looking forward to this day for a long time; especially after realizing that he needs to be around other kids when we have been to the playground. And I was fortunate enough to raise him at home for almost three years. In any case, his first day of preschool will sort of end this time as we know it. I know he will be fine. I know he will love it. Tomorrow he will be playing with his new little friends for approximately one hour to get him used to the whole preschool concept. This will continue for a week or so, depending how comfortable he is when eating or “resting” there after lunch. 

I know my little man is ready because I prepared him for this. Am I ready? I am. I am his mother but I also know that I have to let him go, discover and explore on his own. Also, at some point he will pack his suitcase and move out. Hah! And as fast as those three years had gone by, this time will be here in like 10 minutes. So I am sitting here at the kitchen counter, typing this while he is sound asleep in his bed. I take a step back, take a little moment and file this night away. Preschool Eve for my first baby, everyone.  Here we go…