Joy

My little Kinnie just laughed for the first time. It made me laugh and cry. It tickled my heart. She can now fully express her joy and happiness. There is nothing sweeter.

She is 12 weeks today.

My feet and hers

I knew my feet expanded during pregnancy. But, as flip flop season is coming to a close, I have been putting on my "regular" shoes again. And it seems they're too small. My feet have not shrunk back down to size. I have a fierce shoe collection (if I do say so myself), and may be a little heartbroken about this situation. Enough about me. On to the important one...

Kinnie has discovered her feet this week. When in the correct position, she just stares- especially at her left foot. She distinctly grabbed for it twice yesterday with her left hand (might we have a south paw on our hands???). Her control of her hands is improving, though she manages to smack herself in the face dozens of times every day. It is a hilarious and painful process to watch, all at the same time.

Kinnie has also figured out how to pull herself to sitting when she is in a semi-reclined position, which she often is when she is in our laps. This makes her a slightly more dangerous little thing, as she could roll herself off my legs at any time.

A laugh is coming. I know it is. She opens her mouth in a wide smile, and I can almost hear it.

We're going through a phase in which Kinnie is quite sure I am the only person who can comfort her when she is upset. Though I am flattered, I also hope she will be over this soon. If she is upset, tired, or hungry, and is someone else's arms, she amplifies her upset.

My anxiety, in general, is improving. I don't want to jinx anything, but it appears that Kinnie is past her colic. Now, when she cries, there is a discernible reason. It is a relief, and I really wonder if there is a need for more of a support system for parents of babies who suffer from colicky symptoms. It is such a difficult, heartbreaking, and isolating thing.

She is also sleeping through the night. Like, 10-11 hours every night since she was 10 weeks old. It has been so nice for me not to have my sleep broken up by a midnight feeding. It is now time for her to move into her own room, which tugs at my heart strings a bit. I know we will all sleep better, but knowing she is right there is somewhat comforting. I can awaken at night and just stare at her.

I am looking at going back to work in the next month. A good job possibility has dropped into my lap. It is part time, counseling adolescents involved in the criminal justice system, working for a supervisor who I very much respect and enjoy. It is a bittersweet thing. I think I am not meant to be a "stay at home" mom. As much as I have cherished the time with Kinnie, I get lonely. It is hard to believe that she is coming up on twelve weeks. It really does just keep getting better.

Brian had a great job interview this week, and we are very hopeful that soon he will be working one full time job, that will earn as much as he is making working 50-60 hours per week right now. He deserves it, and it will be so nice to have him home more.

Perspective

A friend of a friend lost her newborn baby. I don't know the circumstances, and I don't know the family. I only know of his passing because of social networking. It is tragic. And, it leaves me thinking, what do I have to complain about? When my baby is fussy, when I feel taxed... Really, all those things are blessings. Because those are things that will be missed by a mother whose child left this world all too soon. I will live this day in gratitude...

Let me be honest...

Motherhood has been an anxiety provoking experience for me. It has been wonderful, amazing, beautiful, and, truly the best thing that has ever happened for me. And, I'm anxious in a way that I haven't been before. In a way that doesn't suit me. I have hinted at it in previous posts, but have felt ashamed that I can't easily go with the flow. I have been looking for reasons, and still don't fully understand. But, it's time to own it, admit it, and figure it out.

Much of my anxiety is about Kinnie crying. As I wrote in my last post, she is passionate person. She has some good cries. And it just kills me. First, I worried that she was in pain or unhappy. Then, I started thinking, "what kind of mother must these people think I am?" Then I started thinking, "what kind of mother am I that my baby cries?"

I know. Duh. Babies cry. Kinnie cries much less than she smiles, and thinks, and sits contentedly. But those moments when she wails (or even just fusses) feel so long. I think I imagined that my first child would be "easy," whatever that means. I didn't imagine that she would be colicky, whatever that means. I thought she'd eat, smile, sleep, and repeat. She does. It's just that there is "fuss" added in there, usually a couple times per day.

I have attempted to adopt a healthier perspective about a baby's cries, in general. That it is their way of communicating a lot of things, or just letting off steam. That no one judges me for the fact that she cries. That she is thriving and happy. That, most nights I get at least 5 hours of sleep in a row, which is incredibly lucky. That there will come a time when I will miss that my daughter was this tiny little being. That I WANT Kinnie to be able to express herself, and I don't want her to feel stifled by her mom's distaste for the fussing.

I am trying to use logic to counter the emotion I experience, which often works well. But, in my own self pondering, I often want to understand WHY I feel the way I feel. In Mexico, I felt so good, and more laid back than ever. Now, I have to do a lot of self-talk to get to that place. Yes, there have been a few transitions between there and here. But why can't I just exist in that easy going state of mind? When I can get there, I feel so much better.

I suppose, in time, the answers will come. And, I am learning important lessons along the way.