Last night I wandered upstairs, dejected. “I guess we can’t afford a jogging stroller right now,” I said. I’d spent the day perusing eBay and a parade of high-end stroller brands was marching through my head: Maxi Cosi, Bugaboo, Maclaren, Inglesino. We’d figured out earlier that we could afford $150 for a stroller but just barely, and then I remembered that I still need the book for my current class and that’s $50 at least. A decent jogging stroller for under $100 including shipping? Not gonna happen.

“I guess not,” said Not So.

I didn’t mention that I’d placed a bid on a seriously cute Combi in Key Lime (it would match my backpack, you see) because why bother? My max was like $65 and the stroller retails for between $229 and $300 and the auction was set to end at 8am (when I am so, so not awake). There was no chance in hell that I’d win it.

Except…I did!

Look how pretty….all green and gray and sporty. With shipping? $95. I am. So. Cool.

technorati tags:ebay, stroller, combi, yay, jogging, baby, bargain

Blogged with Flock

After a week of ministering to my sick loved ones, I was so ready for some me time. It came in the form of a mama’s night out with my friends from the internet, who arranged to meet at the grand opening of Zenana Spa and Wellness Center. I even cut my hair and wore some makeup. I know – crazy talk. But that’s who I am. I live on the edge.

Zenana is a new spa in Portland that takes the novel approach of catering to parents. According to their website,

We offer a variety of spa and wellness services as well as lactation consultations, classes, support groups, childcare and a boutique offering unique mom and baby products.

Maternity Spa and Wellness Center in Portland Oregon

Awesome, no? Zenana’s space is huge and relaxing, and the staff was friendly and helpful. I didn’t get any of the freebies (aside from some delicious food from Vindalho) but I’m looking forward to getting one of the treatments (a mini facial, perhaps?) once we have a little bit of extra cash.

After that, we wandered over to a nearby pub for drinks and snacks. I had my first post-baby cocktail, a throat-searingly alcoholic Flirtini, as depicted in this high-quality cameraphone shot.

I’m not sure exactly what was in my drink, but it tasted vaguely of raspberry. It was quite good once the burning subsided. The company was good too, and that didn’t burn at all. We were out until – gasp! – 9:30pm, and I was home before 11. In my old life that would be an early night, but as it was I felt like I’d stayed out until dawn.

Happy Fun Baby was so glad to see me that he wouldn’t let go of me for an hour. He just kept looking at me and smiling and then burying his head in my shoulder. I had a fabulous time going out, but coming home to that? Best thing ever.

Blogged with Flock

I finally feel like I’m getting the hang of this mama thing. I know, I’ve said it before. It’s an incremental thing; every day I feel slightly more competent, with some days bringing a false sense of accomplishment (I have the happiest kid in the world; I must be a great mom) or an inflated sense of failure (my kid won’t stop crying; I must be a terrible mother).

It’s a strange thing, motherhood. It’s not like having a job, where you go through your training and learn all the tricks and show up on time and behold! You’re a good employee. It’s more like puberty. Things happen pretty much without any input from you, and somehow you’re expected to take it all in stride. Unlike puberty, you don’t have the luxury of self-absorbtion; there’s another person who takes priority and requires most, if not all, of your attention.

I recently rediscovered the bliss that is the library card, so I’ve been doing a lot of reading. Right now there is a stack of parenting books next to my desk, which I’ve been slogging through any time I have a free moment. It feels almost decadent to read for pleasure these days, and I try to justify it to myself somewhat by focusing my leisure reading on motherhood. Also, as when I was pregnant, my focus is almost exclusively inward. I want to rid myself of any bad parenting ideas before they have a chance to manifest. Because, seriously? My own parents did not exactly set a good example. On a related note, I miss my therapist with the fire of a thousand suns, but until we start making “extra” money, I’m the only therapist I can afford. Hence, the parenting books.

The one that’s made the biggest impression on me so far is Mothering Without a Map by Kathryn Black. It’s the idea that women who grew up without mothers for whatever reason (death, abandonment, abuse, whatever) are at a disadvantage when becoming parents; we can’t refer to the wisdom of our mothers or rely on them for advice or support, so we essentially have to teach ourselves to navigate this territory alone. The thing I found most interesting was a comment Black made about subconscious traits of the under-mothered. Among the various coping mechanisms, Black mentions “[s]ome women develop a sense [...] of being behind schedule or otherwise out of sync, no matter what they’ve accomplished.”

That resonated with me, for reasons which should be obvious. It also made me think that perhaps I’m not as self-aware as I should be, and, at the same time, maybe I’m doing a better job than I think I am. Because if the majority of my anxiety is just echoes from my childhood? I’m probably okay.

There’s a certain comfort in self-analysis. I’ve always felt better when I could categorize my issues, label them like lab samples and keep them on a shelf in plain view. I’m finding, though, that motherhood has changed my M.O. I still want to shine a bright light on my issues, but I don’t want to keep them anymore. I’ve got better uses for that shelf. I don’t need my problems to define me.

technorati tags:motherhood, depression, issues, therapy, self-help, books, reading, library, parenthood, trauma, childhood

Blogged with Flock