Balance

I have one resolution for 2012. I'm quite certain it's the most unoriginal a person can have but here it is none the less. My 2012 resolution is: find balance (or some semblance of it at least). Balance between work and play, laziness and exercising, spending money and saving pennies, putting things away and living among the chaos, chocolate and vegetables, beer and wine, you know, the essentials. Ironically, this new goal is what has kept me from blogging for a while. I've been too busy trying to live my daily life to take any time to record it.

I heard a great quote the other day that sums up my new mentality: Live in the moment, not the memory. Instead of trying to get the greatest photo of Maci so I can blog about it later, putting the camera away and just being present in her presence. Instead of having the perfect meal out with Shawn, being okay with driving around lost for an hour only to arrive at the destination and realize there's an hour wait. Instead of offering to correct a mistake at work so as to ensure perfection, accepting something as "good enough" so I can get home to see my family. Instead of waiting until I've returned to my pre-pregnancy weight so I can fit back into my old clothes, buying new clothes to fit my new physique and even greater still, being okay with it because damn it, I sure do feel much better about myself when I wear clothes that actually fit.

That last example, about money, is probably the hardest with which to find balance. Shawn and I, for better or for worse, are planners. Painfully so. And it isn't any more apparent then in our quest for a new TV. Initially, I was just going to buy one, bring it home and surprise Shawn for his birthday. The more I thought about it though, the more I feared getting the "wrong" one and spending such a big chunk of our money without getting his opinion. Inevitably, I caved and told him about my plans. After some mild persuading, he agreed to the purchase and we returned to researching the latest, greatest, fancy models but have yet to actually buy a TV. His birthday was December 19th. We're stuck between 2D and 3D. (I'll let you take a guess at who wants what.) I struggle with wanting to save money and be "safe" or just splurging and living life and rewarding ourselves with things we like, ie a TV. My Dad made it through some very, very tough financial times with hard work and a lot of budgeting to end up debt free by the time he was 50. He took his life a month before he would've turned 51. It's a blunt, painful example but it's also just that, an example. As I've heard so many times from so many people, you can't take your money with you when you go so you might as well enjoy yourself while you're here. We're too level-headed to take that to the extreme but it's a good theory to at least dabble in once in a while. Keep it in your back pocket for the day you finally allow yourself that trip to [ENTER DESTINATION HERE] while your husband's off to Canada, fishing, for the third year in a row.

Whether to save money for the "what ifs" or spend it on the "why nots" is only a drop in the bucket. I struggle to find balance on an hourly basis. Do I clean up the house or watch a movie with Shawn? Do I try and entertain Maci or help her learn to exist in her own space? Do I eat a donut or choke down an apple? Do I go to yoga or take a nap? Do we work on the house or go on vacation? Should I be proud of my cynicism or work on being positive? And the thing that trumps all other things when it comes to trying to find balance: how does one be a mother, a wife, an employee, a woman and an individual, all at the same time and all without getting completely sucked into the vortex of one or two of the above. Unfortunately, as with all wonders of the universe, I fear there is no right answer. As someone of the type A persuasion, this is hard to swallow. I fear open-endedness. Pretty sure that's not a word but maybe with the hyphen I can get away with it? Enquiring minds want to know: How does one achieve balance? I'm actually asking you dammit!

Eyes

In the words of yoda, slacking I have been. Every day I have the intention of penning a new post and every night I trudge my tired, sorry ass to bed having completely given up on the blog for yet another night. One of these days I will catch a second wind, crack the whip and get to writing but in the meantime, I'll upload photos of Maci. Cause let's face it, that's what you're all here to see anyway. Tell me I'm wrong. Yeah, that's what I thought.

So I was downloading some photos from the ol' busted up point-and-shoot the other night and noticed a trend. Maci's eyes. She got her Dad's best feature. Well, he has a mighty fine tushy as well but that's just my personal opinion. Too much information? I told you I was tired right? Well, so is my filter. Okay, anyway, back to the beautiful baby and her blues…

Birthday suit time… she LOVES being nekked.

If that 'aint the most angelic, sweet-potatoed face…

Orange and blue happen to be complimentary colors.

Even when they're tired and red from the shower, they're still bright and blue.

Even her eyes smile (don't mind the matching blue feet… the color comes back eventually)

She looks a little stoned here, but John Mayer says that's okay so we're good.

Unrequited

Dog haters avert your eyes.

The following is a sequence of photos depicting a recent meeting between baby and basset.


Maci starts interested, intrigued. She makes eye contact.

Norman seems disinterested, disengaged. He's playing hard to get.

All of a sudden, he has a change of heart.

He goes in for the kiss. Maci is alarmed.

Her fright continues. Apparently his love is unrequited.

But that doesn't stop him from planting the big one.

I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Recommendation

It's no secret, I can't stop raving about our daycare. Recently I was asked to write a recommendation letter for Bree so I thought it only appropriate to share my thoughts (again) with everyone.

To whom it may concern,

I met Bree Bielejeski at my previous employment, where we worked together from August 2008 until May 2011. She opened Owl Tree Daycare the following summer and I enrolled my daughter Maci in September, when she was just eight weeks old. As a new parent, my priority was safety and security. Since day one, Bree has exceeded at providing not just that but so much more.

I believe the greatest feature of Owl Tree Daycare to be its open-door policy. Parents are welcome any day, any time, which to me shows Bree’s confidence in the care she provides in her home—a home that is very safe, clean, organized, warm and cozy, boasts an impressive, wonderful, bright space just for the children and sits right next to a new greenway that leads straight to a park.

While Bree provides everything you might expect from a daycare: daily art projects, story time, outside adventures, music and free play, it’s her unexpected gifts that constantly remind me, Maci couldn’t be at a better daycare. The most rewarding of these are the photos I receive on a daily basis showing just how much fun Maci is having and how much she is loved at her home-away-from-home. Maci is also sent home every day with a log sheet communicating all the important facts (diapers, meals and naps) and then some (the day’s activities, upcoming events, fun notes or requests for supplies). Bree was brave enough to take on cloth diapers with us and was instrumental in teaching Maci how to self-sooth and put herself to sleep for naps. Another gift is Bree’s nonstop communication via email, text, phone or in person. She never stops asking questions or having conversations about how things are going and how she can improve upon her part. Her relentless desire to provide great care never goes unnoticed or unappreciated for this new and adapting mother.

Bree is personable, flexible and shows her love of what she does through her interactions with my daughter. Maci is currently six months and thriving, thanks in part to the extended family Bree has created with Owl Tree Daycare. I simply could not be more satisfied, happier or feel more at ease dropping Maci off every morning where the first thing she does is smile at Bree. I have nothing but great things to say about Owl Tree Daycare and would highly recommend Bree to anyone.

Sincerely,

Kali DeBoer

Click here to learn more about Owl Tree Daycare by viewing Bree's post on Craigslist.

Someone

…discovered a love of wrapping paper.

…turned six months old.

…and went on a little vacay.

So much is happening on a daily basis with Maci Mae, it's hard to keep up and even harder to keep track. The abbreviated version is, she's growing, rolling, laughing, talking, screaming, scooting, smiling, pinching, biting, drooling and sticking anything she can find right into the toothless abyss. She's happy, she's healthy and she's got a sweet spot for her father as of late.

Right now, my sofa beckons, but I vow to return with all things Team DeBoer just as soon as I can catch my breath, hug the hubby, pet the pooches, smooch the squirt and most importantly, take a shower. I have yet to bathe in 2012. I think I'll declare that my first resolution…

Holidays

I'm sure it comes as no surprise when I admit that… I haven't really been big on holidays. Nothing good has come from them, for me, in a long time. Growing up with divorced parents, my holidays were always spent splitting my time equally among all parties, never really feeling quite settled in one place or another. Since then, they've been mediocre at best and if they were uneventful, they were considered a success. Then a couple years ago, my Dad died on Easter. The Christmas that followed was my worst to date and it's pretty much after this sequence of events that I wrote off all holidays and their ensuing celebrations, for good.

BAH! …humbug.

I had just contented myself to my supreme cynicism regarding the holidays when… Miss Maci Mae Mo was born. With her comes the chance to reinvent the holidays and once again, experience them through the innocent eyes of a child. Color me sappy but after experiencing the following…

Maci's "Baby's First Christmas 2011" ornament hanging adjacent to mine (circa 1982)…

an empty hook awaiting Maci's stocking from Grandma Miller…

Maci's successful introduction to the jolly big guy…

a Polar Express reading from father to daughter…

…something Grinch-esque has happened to me.

I've realized we're not only experiencing holidays anymore but Shawn and I are creating traditions. We're composing annual events that Maci will grow to love. Therefore I'm bound and determined to adjust my holiday attitude and soak up all the firsts this season brings for me and my family of five. The squirt may still be a little too young to really understand what's going on, but if nothing more, for now, she can just enjoy the simplicity of a few extra twinkly lights.

A Tradition

Guess what we did last weekend…

No, that's not a saw in Shawn's one hand…
…and our daughter in the other.

The DeBoer family Christmas tree.
(Yes, those are plastic bags over our shoes.)

Our little Eskimo.

And we didn't have to borrow a vehicle this year!

Us girls. Recovering.

Norman

My Norman.

He turned six years old yesterday. 42 to those in the four-legged world.

I remember the day we got him like it was yesterday. We headed south of the cities to "take a look at" some basset puppies we'd read about in a newspaper ad. When we got there, two female, rowdy, hyper, jumping, barking, biting bassets sat awaiting our attention. We were less then thrilled and admitted to the breeder we were looking more for a male but we thanked her for letting us take a look anyway. Before we turned to leave, she mentioned she did have a male puppy… in the back.

Out she brought him. An all brown, lazy, dopey, brown-eyed, crooked-legged, low-ridin', long-eared, beautiful basset boy. He was exactly what we were looking for! We saw him, we fell in love, we paid a discounted price for him and took him home with us. He sat on my lap in the bitchin' Beretta the whole way home, quietly whining and looking a bit sheepish. On the drive, he came to be known as Norman; named after the cow in City Slickers. To this day, he remains the only impulsive thing Shawn and I have ever done.

While he tests our patience with his barking and his ever-present goober, Norman truly is a sweet, loving, good-natured, dopey old soul. He loves to sniff up and kiss on Miss Mae and she can't get enough of watching our gentle giants. If Norman had his way, he would eat peanut butter and cheese every single day whilst laying butt-to-butt with his buddy Leo in front on our fireplace. He does not like to be outside because he does not like to be cold and really, he just likes to be where we are. Going for a walk is the highlight of his life, although he generally peters out pretty quickly. His face is going prematurely white and his leg is as crooked as ever. He has a fear of wires, plastic bags, vacuums, brooms and pretty much anything else with a handle. He favorite spot to be rubbed is right between his two front legs, which is coincidentally right where his patch of naturally white hair resides. His reputation precedes him on Ruggles Street and thank goodness because he has managed to escape a couple times. Each time he meandered two houses down and thankfully, was easily coerced and returned by Mr. Tim. He is not the brightest light in the harbor, not by a long stretch, but he remains the cutest dog I've ever seen.

Stories

Through 18 weeks of research, I've drawn the conclusion that there are two types of baby stories: the told and slightly over-embellished stories and their wicked step-siblings, the untold and full of shame stories.

The former are most common. Parents regale everyone who will listen with their blissful baby blah, blah, blahs. They paint pictures of love at first sight, utter peace, beautiful bonding, family fun, rediscovered simplicity, cuddling, gazing, oohing and aahing over cooing and yawning until they and their audience are in a gumdrops-and-lollipops-trance where they can virtually feel the fuzzy feet of newborn sleepers and smell the wafting aroma of Johnson's Baby Bedtime Lotion.

The problem is, these stories don't paint the whole picture. There are the other stories.

The untold stories are a rare breed. Almost elusive if even existent at all. They are the dirty little secret stories new parents neglect to tell for fear of judgement, ridicule, backlash or just plain guilt. It's the absence of these stories that, I believe, leads to an unrealistic expectation of what parenthood is really like or at the very least, has the potential to be like. When they're left out, parents don't know the full gamut of what their about to experience.

Now, I'm no better. I tell all the fabulously fuzzy stories too. I could spend countless hours revealing all the wonderful that has come along with bringing a person into this world. My love has no limits and my stories exemplifying this don't either. However, let it now be known that I have a full arsenal of the untold stories as well and I feel it's about time these get to join the new parent story hour. It's about time people share the realities of parenthood. Here's a baker's dozen, no-holds-bar, list of revelations to get the ball rolling:

1. Maci peed on my side of the bed like five days ago. Since then I have placed a receiving blanket between my sheets and the mattress so as to avoid it actually soaking in to the mattress. I have yet to remove and/or wash the sheets. Urine is sterile right?

2. I now know why my sister is always brushing her teeth in the shower. If I don't take my toothbrush into the shower, most likely I will forget to or will run out of time to brush my teeth. I didn't brush them this morning and in fact, I don't believe I brushed them last night either.

3. My daughter has spit up on me almost every single time she has ate in the past two weeks. Not just some spit up, gobs full of slimy, milky, curdled spit up. And if it misses me and hits the floor, the dogs lick it up.

4. I have woke up some mornings to Maci's diaper being changed and have absolutely no recollection of changing it. I often can't remember if I've fed her or remember laying her back down. The worst is when I'm dreaming that I am holding her while I'm sleeping and I wake up terrified that I'm suffocating her when in fact, I'm suffocating my pillow.

5. I have yelled at, swore at, tried to rationalize with and been all-around frustrated with Maci. I always love her, but sometimes, I don't like her. And actually it's not that I don't like her either. I always like her, but sometimes, I don't like the way she is acting. There is a reason she is cute and there is a reason some species eat their young. I get it now. Trying to help something completely helpless without them being able to communicate what they need help with is like trying to survive in a foreign country when you can't speak the language. To that end, both Shawn and I have reached the point of lovingly placing Maci in her crib and removing ourselves from her for the sake of her life and our sanity. Shawn went into the other room and did some push ups. I went into the back bedroom and sobbed into a pillow. To each their own and to all there is no harm or wrong in doing this. You are 100% completely normal if you get angry at a situation concerning your crying baby. Don't go to where the guilt it. Expect it, know that it's your circumstances that are making you feel this way, that it will pass and that you love your baby no less for the duration of the incident. This does not make you a bad person or a bad parent.

6. I have absolutely no idea what I was going to type here. I had the above number separated into two points and then I combined them to make room for this one and now, two minutes later and after an interruption from Shawn and Maci, it's gone. It might of had something to do with letting Maci sleep in her car seat at night because she had a cold and wouldn't cough so much sitting upright? Yeah, I'm not certain, but I'll go with that.

7. Shawn and I no longer eat together. We try, but usually, we fail. We also generally can't watch a movie together either. We tried that too and I think it took us literally all day to watch an hour and a half movie in 15 minute intervals while trying to get Maci to nap.

8. Napping. *&$#! Bree, my daycare provider, can get Maci to nap for two to three hours at a time. She will nap no longer then 45 minutes for me. It's getting better but there's nothing that will make you feel more like a failure as a parent then when a stranger can get your child to do something you can't. I know, I know. It's because she wants to be with us and see us and spend time with us but she also needs to sleep. She is like her Mom. We are bee-atches when we don't sleep.

9. This is going to be TMI so if you'd rather not get personal, skip to the next number. If you are a new father, don't expect to have sex again for a year. Yes, an entire year. It may happen before that but this way your expectations will be much more in line with reality and you won't be nearly as disappointed.

10. Never, ever try to have a rationale conversation at 3am. Call each other those explicit names, get it out of your system, don't take it personal, go to sleep and then have a conversation in the morning. It is perfectly normal to feel like you are always fighting with your spouse. With such stress and such little sleep, it's the perfect storm.

11. I haven't yet but Shawn has gone to the bathroom while holding Maci. When you gotta go, you gotta go.

12. I have hovered over my daughter for what feels like hours at a time. They put the fear of God and SIDS into you when you leave the hospital so much so that you literally think your baby will stop breathing if you are not there to witness it. It's sorta like the tree falling in the woods theory. It's still my number one fear and I'm still constantly checking and rechecking Maci and trying to sort out every irrational fear I have, but it is getting better. She is in her crib, in the other room and we no longer use the monitor. So far, it's been like heaven at night not to have to hear her every move and breath. It will seem impossible, trust me, I know, but turn the monitor off. Just do it during the day first. Then one night a week. Then maybe two. Work your way into it.

13. I have forgot to buckle Maci into her car seat not once, but twice, before driving somewhere. She survived and was frankly none-the-wiser.

**

I have a new found respect for single mothers. I honest to goodness don't know how they do it. I don't know how my sister did it with multiple kids and multiple dogs while going to school. I always thought she was crazy and now I know I was right. And I mean that in the best way possible.

Sara always says that although Sex and the City 2 was basically a horrible creation void of anything meaningful, and I agree, they did do one scene justice:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sGl4KhCgXMs&feature=related

Now I'm not going to go through the ritual of telling you all the good stories I have that cancel out these so-called bad stories. You know, the good stories that make it all worth it. I know how I feel about Maci and my family and I don't feel the need to justify that to anyone. Further more, if you have any doubts as to how I feel about her or them, or feel compelled to express your opinion about the matter, come find me and we'll sit down and have a nice face-to-face chat. I'm pretty sure I know how that would go.

I also encourage you, if you're a new parent, to comment and reveal one of your untold stories. Let us keep the conversation going so as to avoid surprises and the ensuing guilt for future parents to be. Let's tell the whole story of what it truly means to be a new parent.

Question

My 30th birthday looms.

*pause for reaction*

I don't know if it's because I'm approaching a milestone or because I'm a new mother or because I have a new job or because I'm weaning myself off some meds or because I'm completely devoid of sleep, but I have been doing a TON of self-reflecting lately. A ton. Constantly. All the time. It's exhausting but in the same breath, enlightening. I would like to think this cheese doesn't stand alone and that a) I actually have readers and b) they are intellectual people with great minds and opinions of their own. So to that end, I say spill. What's been on your mind lately? Any great life lessons? Any self-awareness arising? Any advice you'd like to bestow upon me? Any happy happenings you've had? Tell me the greatest things you learned by the time you were 30. If you're not 30, then 20. If you're not 20, well then, go do your homework.

And add yourself as a follower while you're at it because in all my reflecting, I realized I need constant validation. Yes, it's in my "flaws" column. But I'll get to more about all my reflections later. Right now, let's talk about you. Come on… you know you wanna comment. And maybe add yourself as a follower. No? What if I bribe you with a photo of Maci Mae…

No? How about Maci sucking her thumb?

Still nothing? Maci in a frog towel?

You haven't commented or added yourself as a follower yet? Wow. You're heartless. Okay. All I have left is the obligatory father / daughter schnoozing photo. If that doesn't persuade you nothing will.