MamaBlogga

In the beginning, nearly everything about babies is wonderful. A few months in, of course, and the novelty has worn off. Give it another year, and suddenly you miss nearly everything about the baby stage.

So before I forget too many of them, here are some of my favorite things about babies.

• The sweet smell of baby! (And no, I don’t mean diapers!)
• Fuzzy, downy hair, especially right after it’s been washed and dried.
• Wide eyes taking in everything.
• Tiny fingers, toes, ears, nose, mouth—and clothes.
• Sweet, peaceful sleep (right up until I get a neck cramp)
• Unfettered, unabashed smiles, happy squeals and cheerful posturing—especially the sheer joy at just seeing Mommy or Daddy.
• The quiet moments.
• Baby babbling.
• The delight of discovering hands, then feet.

What are your favorite things about the baby stage?

Rebecca, unfortunately, seems to be pathologically incapable of sleeping on her back. No matter how many times I read the SIDS studies to her, it just doesn’t seem to sink in. So, to keep the family peace, we let her sleep on her tummy.

However, sometimes she’s not quite content to just peacefully slip into dreamland. Instead, she squirms into a bit of a frenzy—especially when, as has happened a lot more frequently lately, her squirming rolls her onto her side or, heaven forbid, onto her back.

This is her cue to scream bloody murder.

Finally I realized what the problem is. My sweet little girl rolls onto her back and gets upset because she can’t get back to her comfortable sleep position.

She is, in fact, a turtle.

I’ve come across some interesting quotations from famous mothers (mothers who happen to be famous, or famous women who happen to be mothers) and I’ve begun a collection of them. I thought they might make a fun topic for discussions. So starting this month, I’ll be sharing a quotation on motherhood from a famous mom each Friday.

Do you have a quote from a famous mom? Submit it to famousmoms (at) mamablogga.com and we’ll discuss it one week, and you’ll get a link (if you include your URL, of course).

Yesterday was my grandma’s ninetieth birthday. My angel aunt flew Grandma out and arranged a surprise party for her with all of her grandchildren in the area (there were grandma, one of her kids, five grandkids, three grandsons-in-law, one date and two great-grandchildren there).

Waiting for grandma

The birthday princess, tiara and all

The delicious cake—no, that’s not 90 candles. Also pictured: said angel aunt, one of four women named Rebecca in the room (the others were me, my daughter and my cousin’s date, Becky)

Rebecca with her great-grandma

A wonderful night—many thanks to Aunt Janie for throwing a wonderful party!

I defy you to not sing the theme from Attack of the Killer Tomatoes:

This is my tomato plant. Before the first frost, I pulled it out of our garden. Its roots had taken over half the garden space.

Apparently you’re supposed to prune them.

In case by some insane stretch of the imagination you’ve forgotten, it’s election day; please vote!

Back when I only had one child, the days seemed very long sometimes. For weeks, we would go on long daily walks—30 minutes, 45 minutes, an hour. We explored every street east of our neighborhood and admired all the homes and gardens, but mostly I was trying to just pass the time so that we had something to do.

While it was undoubtedly good for us to get exercise out in the fresh air, I could help but feel . . . well, bored. I was raising one child, holding a reasonably big responsibility at church and working part time, but it still felt like there weren’t enough activities to fill my day. (Of course, there was still a good-sized amount of time that I felt the opposite—too much to do and not enough time to do it in!)

Now, however, I seldom find myself searching for something to do. It may be having two kids, it may be that Hayden’s older and more communicative and easier to play and interact with, it may just be that we have toys that I enjoy playing with now.

But for whatever reason, as I’ve filled my arms and my days more, I’ve spent less time angsting over finding fulfillment as a mom. I think that there’s a direct relationship there, too. After all, spending our time in enjoyable activities as part of an overall venture that we know is important sounds like the definition of fulfillment, even if we can’t see the fruits of our efforts immediately.

Or maybe I’m just not as bored.