Rants and Raves

"The baby closed its mouth, staring [...] with hope and small hiccups.

— Laura Kinsale (Flowers from the Storm)

*Disclaimer- I get really personal, so if that's too much for you, skip this entry!

Here's the thing- I love my daughter. But saying that I love babies as much as the next girl probably isn't true. I love specific babies- for example, until my daughter was born, I was convinced that my niece was the cutest kid on earth (obviously, Amelia is now). But I never wandered through baby sections of stores, picking up little dresses and everything pastel to ooh and ahh over. I am not too excited about most baby shower games (the candy bar in a diaper one, particularly). I was just never obsessed with babies the way some girls are- you know (or you are) the type.

So, being a mom is wonderful, but it feels a bit odd to me- something that isn't 100% natural, I guess. I am finding out which things I love, and which things totally weird me out; and here they are...

I love taking her picture. I really like photography in general, but trying to capture every expression and every outfit is one of my favorite hobbies. I love looking back at all five hundred something I've taken in this first month of her life, and seeing how much she's changed already. I eat up every comment on Facebook I get. It's really almost nauseating how many photos she will have of her childhood. I can picture her at 20 saying, "God, Mom, did you do anything else?"

I HATE breastfeeding. Hate it. For those women who feel an enormous bond because of it, a pat on the back to you, but I am not a fan. Every time we go out, I worry that I will have big, wet spots on my shirt. If I try to stretch the time between feedings, I'm sore (i.e., every morning I wake up). I feel like a cow. It feels like a full time job in and of itself. And trying to feed her around anyone, even with a blanket or the nursing cover my mom made? Insanely embarrassing, and I refuse to ever try it again. If it wasn't so good for her, I would have quit weeks ago. So, to other moms out there, it's an awesome thing to do for your child, I highly recommend it, and it sucks.

I love watching her turn into a person. She doesn't seem like a little newborn with a glazed over look on her face anymore. She watches us. She turns her head and looks at toys. She gets a very amused look on her face during baths. She spontaneously smiles, she cries (of course!), and she stops crying when she hears my voice or watches me walk into her room. She wants nothing less than to be held constantly, and though this can be maddening at times, there is a tiny part of me (VERY tiny at 2am) that loves how she needs us.

I hate thinking about her getting older. I don't want it to go by too fast, but that's not what I mean. I am talking about the upcoming terrible twos, picky eating, telling me "no", being a sulky teenager, etc. I'm fairly terrified of all things after 'baby'. I know once I get there, I'll do fine, more or less. That is why I choose to not think about it and freak myself out. Because every time it's popped in my head so far, I mildly panic.

Mostly, though, I just love her. I hate when she gets five times the amount of sleep I do, but I love when she blows bubbles, when she grasps my sleeve while I carry her, and the color of her eyes. I hate how expensive diapers are, but I love her soft sighs and the funny moves she makes when she's startled. For all the things that make me want to pull out my hair and scream, there's her. And she's more than enough to make me smile.