Lesson Learned

One of the weirdest phrases I heard in my writing class was, "creative nonfiction." What does that even mean? I was at a loss for words. I had no idea how I supposed to get creative without being false or bending the truth. Had I been a reader of Real Simple magazine when taking the class, I would have known exactly what my professor meant. In each issue they have a section called "Life Lessons". I learn the strangest, saddest, and sometimes simple things when I read that section. This is creative nonfiction. These writers just seem to know how to paint a story without brushing over the truth.

So here goes, if I were to actually submit a piece for an essay contest about understanding the meaning of love it might go something like this:

My mother always used to say that I would never understand how much she loved me until I had a child of my own. There's no way that could be true. There were so many ways that my mother showed me love: supporting my talents by attending choir concerts, always being a listening ear, staying up with me to finish that forgotten term paper, always finding time to teach me valuable life lessons as she transitioned into grandmother-hood while I was still only eight. As I grew up with a matriarch overflowing with positive words and love, I never thought it would take me until I had my first child that I would truly understand. As I groggily woke up to feed my crying baby, carefully prepared his food, happily changed his diaper or enjoyed his coos and giggles I was reminded of all the loving attention given to me by my own mother as her youngest.

Due to medical complications, I didn't get to spend an entire week with my newborn and had to leave my son in the care of my mother. She was much older now, and physically less prepared to repeat the routine of a newborn baby. I ached to be out of my hospital bed and be home with my husband and son, but I knew that my son was more than competently cared for, perhaps even more so than by a brand new mommy like me. I knew that my son would be loved and given the attention that I would have given him myself.

My mom with my son

When I was finally discharged from the hospital, I still couldn't hold my son and walk at the same time thus the nighttime responsibilities again fell to my mother. It was after I had regained strength in my leg that I profusely thanked my mom for caring for my boy. She gushed about how much she loved being up with him in the middle of the night and not being sore or too tired (like having her own seven children felt). What I imagine she was trying to say, "You won't understand how much I love you until you have a child of your own." I wouldn't have done any different had it been my grown son and his family in need of service and I an older woman in her latter years. She managed to show me how much she could love her grandson and through this selfless act, I know what unconditional love truly is.

So mom, if you happen to read this I love you for all that you have ever done and still do for me!

~Lady Jane

Endless Possibilities

Another month has passed and my pen is a little rusty. I feel like I haven't written in ages, but I have been otherwise occupied: setting up house. As much as I looked forward to having my own home (9 years in the making) I didn't realize so many projects lay ahead of me. Thankfully, we've had in our budget the ability to hire a painter. I'd probably still be sleeping in the guest room if I was in charge of painting which would have been really awkward when my parents came to stay. At this point in time, all the rooms have a purpose and direction. The husband has his office for the tortuous week he is on-call, although the guest room isn't painted yet, I have a design scheme in mind, our bedroom makes me happy every time I walk in, the kitchen just screams vintage eclectic (I'm screaming too) the living room exudes relaxation with a pop of excitement, the loft will play a key role in creativity as well as organization (my personal office space), and the little man has a mostly functioning bedroom and dresser situation. We bought a dresser for our son at a thrift store and immediately started brainstorming on how we could re-imagine it to fit our needs. However it is still presently in the entry way until we get it painted. (So many projects!) I haven't clawed out my eyes or pulled out my hair (yet) because I haven't gone anywhere in three days. I knew that home ownership would change me. If I waited three days to go anywhere if I was still living in the rental, I would be blind and bald.

I like being home. I am grateful that I get to be a SAHM especially in this economy. I love that I get to spend time with my son and teach him what an anemone is while watching Finding Nemo. I like looking out my kitchen window and seeing the mountains. And once we get around to it, I'll like my backyard too.



Pictures soon to come!

~Lady Jane

Lady Jane: Zero, Parenting: Won

8 June 2012

Well, parenting certainly won that round today. I am near my wits end trying to nourish my son. The only thing he consumes without hesitation is milk, yogurt, bread, and bananas. If I try to mix bananas into his yogurt, forget about it. He will try a bite of other foods and will immediately spit it out. I did get him to each some pureed sweet potatoes, so that was a success. I think it's a texture issue with him. But it's driving me insane! I started introducing gummy vitamins so that I could at least feel good about making sure he got them in another source, but every time I give him the vitamins he asks for fruit snacks. I'm not worried that he isn't healthy, he is quite the little muscle man. Perhaps I'm overcomplicating the matter; I know what foods I like and the ones I don't and I could literally eat cereal every morning for breakfast because it's quick and easy and F is my kid after all. Maybe he's just trying to tell me in his limited vocabulary that a variety of foods isn't for him (at least not yet). I doubt I'll have a long respite during F's nap time since he's so incredibly stubborn that all he ate was a piece of bread for lunch. I offered him one teddy graham for each bite of parfait he ate, but this little stinker wouldn't even dane to try it.

~Lady Jane

Goldberg Nugget #6

Give me your morning

23 May 2012

I drifted in and out of consciousness as I heard the syncopation of the rain emanating from my iPod dock, awake just long enough to reach the snooze button for another glorious nine minutes of "sleep". As I tried to hold on to slumber, it slipped further and further away as I heard my husband cross the floor from the bathroom to his closet, turning the fan on a faster setting as he passed. "Drying off," I thought. I guess the rain was a little of the shower head too. I pulled the pillow sham from between my legs and propped myself against it as I checked on the boy from the video monitor. My drowsy hand searched for my glasses on the nightstand and discovered them exactly where I had left them the night before.

Even though the boy was mostly awake singing to himself, I figured I would have time to relieve myself and dress for the day. I softly closed my bedroom door behind me so as not to make a sound in the hope that I could take care of preparing the morning bottle. I trudged into the kitchen, flipping on the middle switch from the hallway. The light from the refrigerator brightened the kitchen by another 40 watts. I plucked the 8 ounce bottle from the shelf on the door, the gallon jug and proceeded to the microwave. Falling like a silk scarf, the white liquid gathered itself to the highest tick mark on the side of the bottle. I watched the bottle dance by itself as it heated in the microwave (or as I affectionately refer, a godsend). One last check on the boy on the monitor as I walk down the hall. I listen to the knob screech in excitement, echoing the happy shrills from my little man.

(6-7 months old)

My Son

As Mother's Day approaches I reflect on the little miracle that made me a mom. I love my little boy and I thank Heaven that he came to me! Ever since he was born I felt like I was taking on a huge challenge to raise one amazing little man. Having received my Bachelors degree in teaching before F was born, I thought of all the wonderful things I could teach him as he grew. Little did I know, he has taught me more than I ever thought possible.

Minutes old

Days old

Month old

Six months old

He has taught me to love. I love him beyond description. When I found out that I was pregnant, people asked me "If you could choose the gender, what would you have?" Every time I replied, "Boy!" I don't know why even but as soon as we found out that little F was going to join our family, I felt blessed. I was going to raise a son of God and teach him how to be a good man like his daddy.

He has taught me to reflect. Because of him, I have appreciated the sound of a bird chirping and leaves blowing in the wind and the rain. All these things are new to this little person and he is helping me remember these simple pleasures.

He has taught me to be patient. There are those days, that every parent has, where fuses are short but they lengthen over time because my son reminds me what is really important. So what if we're a little late for an appointment somewhere because he wanted to learn how to climb into his car seat? So what if we don't make it to the grocery store today if we get to nurture our relationship by playing cars? 

He has taught me to be consistent. Children, especially mine like structure and consistency, once we created a bedtime routine, within days he was reminding us what came next. I have learned that when I give him a heads up on what's coming next, he transitions to the next activity (or naptime) almost seamlessly. 

One Year!

Eighteen months

Two years!

I am grateful beyond words (but I'll try to find them) that I have been with my little man for two years! Four weeks after his birth I got a blood clot in my leg. I didn't realize how life threatening a blood clot was at the time. I just kept thinking about how much I missed my sweet husband and my precious newborn. I wanted to get out of that hospital bed and go home to be with my family. I couldn't even feel like I was with him by sending home breast milk. I was on a cocktail of different medications and painkillers throughout my stay at the hospital that I couldn't even pump. That alone was disheartening. After my thrombectomy (blood clot removal) procedure I recuperated at my parents' house. I couldn't walk without the assistance of a walker, so midnight feedings were taken over by the hubs or my mother. I have been a mother two years now and plan on being one forever! I have enjoyed it too much.

And most importantly, I owe my life to my mother! Even after having the perfect Brady Bunch family, she didn't feel like her family was complete until I came along (that sounds really egocentric). What I'm trying to say is, "Thanks mom, for wanting me!"

June 2007

I hope you mothers out there enjoy your day!

~ Lady Jane

And I Thought I Was Losing Brain Cells Before

A couple of months ago, I mentioned in my family blog that I felt like I had nothing to do, that I was losing my brain cells from being a SAHM. I couldn't have been more wrong! I have so much on my calendar that I'm a living episode of "Hoarders: Buried Alive!" I don't even have time to expedite a book club that my sister and I started at the beginning of the year. I don't think it helped any that our members were less than enthusiastic about reading different kinds of literature. (Ex. one doesn't want to read series [there goes Hunger Games and Harry Potter], another doesn't want to read books she had to read in high school [so long classics and thought-provoking works], another is so defensive that anything religious is inflammatory. Makes for interesting group of contributors and books to choose from doesn't it? I'm afraid I'll be calling my sister and telling her we're gonna have to wait until after May to start up again. Yeah, procrastinators!!!

And it's only going to get worse in the next few weeks. I mentioned in my last post, the dance rehearsals for the Centennial, but when I have the next four Saturdays accounted for it makes me wish I never said I liked having a busy schedule. I wish I was ten again. Where Saturday afternoons were perfect to catch movies from the 80s and the films no one bothered to buy. I am the youngest of seven so by the time I was ten, two sisters were married with a kid each, and one was living away from home and the other three were teenagers.

Back to the present: I'm so nervous that I'm going to forget something so important that I'm constantly turning on my smartphone, pulling up the calendar just to make sure I don't skip over any minute detail. Has that ever happened to you? When your life is so scheduled down to the minute that you just wish you could take a 100 years nap like Rip VanWinkle? Although, that brings up an interesting observation. I would miss out on all the events that got me to the final destination.

Have you ever seen "Click" an Adam Sandler movie that came out in 2006?

I really appreciated the moral of the story; as much as we would like to fast forward all the mundane parts of our lives, we miss out on the journey. A wise man counseled me before I got married to the hubs, "Live in the now, because you'll miss out on the present if you're constantly thinking about what the future holds." I have really tried to put that counsel into my life especially as a mother. Little F will grow up all too soon, so I try to cherish every stage he reaches instead of constantly dwelling on the times when he'll be more independent and less reliant on me.

Song for a Fifth Child, by Ruth Hamilton, 1958

Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth
empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
hang out the washing and butter the bread,
sew on a button and make up a bed.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I’ve grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue
(lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
(pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).
The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew
and out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo
but I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren’t her eyes the most wonderful hue?
(lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).

The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
for children grow up, as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.

My eyes are welling with tears just thinking about my little man that recently turned two! I think most mothers would agree that their child/children are the best. I have a good'un! He's incredibly thoughtful and polite. His smile takes over his whole face, his eyes squish to near non-existence, his teeth shine brightly from his half-moon mouth.

Did I do him justice? As much as I like to pride myself on being a good writer, I always worry that my point won't convey to the reader. The picture above satisfies the visual learner in me.

And I just realized that my writing blog is becoming less and less about writing and/or becoming a good writer as my personal life creeps in more and more. Who knows, I may just combine my two passions: writing and becoming a better wife and mother into this nifty little blog.

Until then,

just keep writing, just keep writing.

Nearly There

The time is soon approaching where I don't have a million things on my plate. I thought after this coming Saturday I would be a little more free with my time. Alas, twas not meant to be. I forgot that I was helping teach a dance to 12-13 year old girls for Arizona's Centennial. So after April 21st, I will truly have nothing on my plate, other than all the mom juggling I'm already doing.

The wedding for my sister in-law that I threw the bridal shower for went splendidly. The weather was cooperative, cloudy and slightly breezy with a nice chill, or in other words: sweat-ah weath-ah! Arizona has been in early menopause for the last few months. We definitely had an Indian Summer in September (wondering when the summer would end!) and just last week I was sporting skirts and flip flops in March. It just can't make up its mind!

Next on the agenda is two little low-key get togethers in honor of F's birthday with a Toy Story theme. We already had a little celebration with the grandparents and an aunt and uncle on hubby's side. I can't believe he's going to be two! In my mind he's two going on ten! He is such a little mimicker at the moment and tries so hard to enunciate the words he hears and he's such a smarty-pants (no really, he is, I'm not just saying because I'm his mother. He really is smart!) However, there are some words I wish he wouldn't repeat. I don't swear, but I'd rather not hear, "Oh, crap!" coming out of his mouth. Don't get me wrong, it is so incredibly cute and laughter-inducing but a word like bummer seems slightly more acceptable to the most number of people. Here's to my little man who decided to grow up!

Spring Break

Happy Spring Break everyone! I hope you do something especially spring-y this week. See you next Thursday!