Mommies in arms.

So, as I look around me, it is apparent that the baby/toddler department of Target has essentially "vomited" in multiple corners of our house. And as I have mentioned before, it seems as though it figuratively has done the same here. I'm okay with it.

I didn't think I would have any more to say about mothers or Mother's Day this week, but as I am learning quite frequently about mothering, I was wrong.

Last time, I talked about the way in which everyday is Mother's Day. A couple of the gifts I mentioned were being part of the "club," and part of the conversation about mothering that never ends. This week has really driven the idea of those gifts home, and it prompts me to do something I occasionally feel compelled to do--thank those around me who are helpers, and who are always looking out for me. It also prompts me to say that on this day, I hope all moms can remember that the other moms around them are doing their best.

When you're pregnant and/or mothering these days, technology seems to be at least part of the experience. I had multiple apps on my smartphone related to ticking the weeks of my pregnancy down. They all had helpful tips that were e-mailed to me each day, and a couple of them offered the opportunity to discuss and share the experience with others "just like me," via message and discussion boards. It's a little bit like "Cheers" for moms--sometimes you wanna go where everybody feels your pain, and sometimes your joy.

I "joined" a couple of these mommy boards, and it was often a comfort to see that other people were experiencing the same things I was experiencing. I still belong to these boards and each day, I get e-mails with a list of topics for the day. Many of those topics originate from moms who are looking for help with various issues. Others seem kind of arrogant and boastful about perfect babies who sleep 10 hours a night and moonwalk across the kitchen floor at eight weeks of age. I don't contribute to the conversations very often. Most of the time, I just observe and mull over the things that grab my attention.

The topics that appeal to me usually appeal to me for one of two reasons:1) The topic is a problem I am currently dealing with and I want to know how other people are dealing with it. 2) The topic is an opportunity to see if the choices I've made about something are validated by others. There's a mix of maturity and immaturity in the situation.

This week, I happened to click on a topic called "cosleepers."

For those who aren't in the know, a cosleeper is any sort of device that allows your baby to sleep with you or nearly with you in a safe way. The closest comparison might be a bassinet. We have a cosleeper bassinet, but we haven't used it yet. I, like everyone else, planned to have a traditional birth experience, but ended up with a C-section instead. I had a really hard time getting out of our memory foam bed for quite a while afterwards, and having to maneuver around this bassinet--which attaches to the side of our bed--didn't seem like the best plan at the time. One of the contraptions we bought was a rocking napper--a really popular one that just about everyone raves about. And true enough, we came to love ours as well.

At any rate, I clicked on the topic. Multiple moms validated my rocking napper, and I was just about to continue patting myself on the back for the remainder of the day when I ran across one dissenting comment, and it was a doozy. This rocking napper could cause babies to develop flat spots on their heads, and was "known" to do so. I was skeptical and mentally scoffed. Then I Googled it, because that's what I always do when I want to be "right." Sure enough, there were two articles by pediatricians talking about how terrible this sleeping option is for babies because of the potential for flathead (A.K.A. plagiocephaly) and an increased potential risk for SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome).

Clearly, as a mom, I don't want my baby to have a flat head, and SIDS is every mother's worst nightmare.

My heart sank. I started to immediately think about making the transition from the napper to the bassinet. I worried about Willow's head--she does have a flat spot. I sent a text to my mentor mom (i.e. the mom I trust the most, and most want to emulate) regarding the issue. A mommy friend of my husband (who is quickly becoming a mommy friend of mine) sent me a text regarding the issue (at my husband's behest). And out of the blue, another mommy friend Facebook messaged me about another parenting topic I had nearly lost my mind over the week or two before--sleep scheduling. I poured out my flathead mommy soul to her.

She was very comforting. She had battled multiple issues with her second baby--reflux and colic. He slept in a rocking napper for six months, and she had essentially had to wear him around the house in order to comfort him as he would cry for hours at a time. She told me that anyone who judged the way she raised her kids could shove it--well...you know where.

It was nice to feel a little less worried. And I knew that we had an appointment with my daughter's pediatrician the following day.

On the way to his office, we stopped by to see another mommy friend--my OB/GYN, who delivered her daughter just a week before my Willow. I couldn't help but ask her where she had her little girl sleeping. She happens to be using the same rocking napper that we are. I asked her if she had heard anything about them causing flathead. Indeed, she had, and as a matter-of-fact, her daughter has a flat spot on one side of her head. She smiled and reassured me that while she felt bad about it, her baby's doctor had told her it would be fine.

The good news is, our baby's doctor told us that while she does have a flat spot, they actually view this as kind of a good sign. It's a sign that we are placing her on her back to sleep, which is the preferred position for preventing SIDS. He said we would monitor her head shape and intervene if we need to.

I love our pediatrician. He's the best. And in our house, flat is the new round.

Flat is the new round!

I clicked on another message board topic this week. It was a post about a mom's preparations for an unexpected nine-hour drive with her baby. She was trying to figure out the logistics of feeding her baby over the course of the trip and made the mistake of saying she might have to take her baby out of its seat during the trip to nurse. I say she "made the mistake of" saying it because just about every one of us who commented scolded her harshly for the mere mention of taking her child out of the safety seat while the car was moving. She felt attacked by all of us, and rightly so.

Almost every single mom responding to her failed to be understanding and compassionate. The trip she was contemplating was due to a death in the family. She had no time to think about, or prepare for the trip. It wasn't like she was planning a vacation road trip. She was thinking under duress. In mothering, there is a lot of thinking that occurs under duress. Frequently, if we express those thoughts verbally, they come out as stream of conscious. When we have the chance to think things through under normal circumstances, we often realize what we said was almost crazy. This mom was no different. In a follow up comment on the topic, I apologized for the lot of us who failed to consider her circumstances.

I think it's natural for us to be protective of children, especially when we are mothers. But I think we often do it at the expense of our "sister moms." It's a shame, because we all want the same happiness and healthiness for our children, no matter how we go about getting there. I wish we would just be more thoughtful and nice to one another. I spend too much time scanning these mommy boards. I only say that because I am starting to realize that while they are a potential treasure trove of great information and camaraderie, they have also proven to be a place where I feel inadequate and judged for my mistakes--or in some cases, perceived mistakes.

Lots of firsts still to come.

We're all doing the best we know how, and the best we are learning how. As I am spending my first Mother's Day in my pajamas, and I am not feeling my best, all I really want to do is thank all of my mommy mentors and the moms who have helped me in multiple ways so far. Some have been helping me for the last 11 months. Some have come to the table in the last couple of months.

I can't possibly remember everyone who has imparted wisdom to me or just kind words, so listing everyone would be impossible. I won't attempt to do it, for fear that I will leave out someone and hurt feelings. That's not my intent when I single out a handful of very special moms.

Our little family.

There are plenty of highlights. Most certainly there is my mentor mom who helped me determine that I was in labor. She has actually been a huge help all along the way. I try to let her know how important she is every time I get a chance. There's the local mom I have known since first grade who came to see me in the hospital just hours after Willow's arrival. She's the most exuberant and enthusiastic mom supporter in my circle. She makes sure we get out of the house for adventures, and when I recently expressed how much I miss having time to read, because there are a breastfeeding book and a sleep book I need to read, her response was "You already do both of those things. LOL" She constantly gives me "permission" to parent my own way. There are surprise moms--those whom I don't hear from as often, but they seem to pop in when I am having moments of self-doubt. In the early days, they wanted to make sure that "mommy blues" didn't turn into anything more significant--they know me well. One popped in this week and reminded me of what I already knew--the most important success of motherhood isn't how closely we follow the "mom pack, and its fancy rules," it's the time we spend with our kids, and their happiness. There are my new friend moms who helped me through the medical aspects of my pregnancy, and became my good friends along the way. I am so blessed that one of those moms is also a first time mom going through exactly the same things at almost exactly the same time as me. We really are doing it together. There are the new and soon-to-be moms whom I think of everyday. It's a pleasure to welcome them to the "club." There is a long distance mom whose daughter helped name our little girl in the most uncanny of ways. I wish everyday that she lived closer so I could share the experience of being a new mom with her firsthand instead via text and Facebook. I miss her very much. There's my younger sister, who gets to be the wise sage in this arena. She is a great support to me all of the time. And of course, there is my "adoptive" mom, whom I was lucky enough to acquire when I married her son. She has been a giant support and is already a fantastic grandma.

There are at least another dozen or more moms besides. All of you lighten and brighten my heart, and the hearts of others everyday. And there are also many "aunts." Willow and I benefit everyday from so many women who may not be mothers, but who love us and offer support in ways that are just as important.

I couldn't be the mom I am becoming without all of you.

Kind and Generous--Natalie Merchant

Everyday is Mother's Day

So, when we moved down to Bella Vista, Arkansas from Kansas City, we rented a house in the woods. There was a vinyl wall decal in the kitchen declaring that "every day is its own gift." We thought that was one of the goofiest things ever, and we joked about it frequently.

As this week has been approaching, I have been thinking about Mother's Day. It will be my first. As I have been thinking about Mother's Day, I have been thinking about that wall decal.

This time of year, every jewelry store, every flower delivery service and a thousand companies in between and besides are trying to convince gift givers that they have that one special gift that Mom really wants. I know it's going to come across as self-deprecating, but when I look down at the little girl sleeping on the nursing pillow belted around my waist, I know that I already got the gift. It's not always wrapped up with a giant bow, and sometimes the fragrance of fresh flowers might be a plus in this case. But my daughter is what I really wanted for Mother's Day--for the last three years, actually.

The reason saying that you have exactly what you wanted comes across as self-deprecating is because being a real, live mom is actually pretty hard work on a day-to-day basis--especially in the early days.

The early days are like when you decide you're going to get in good shape. You start going to the gym faithfully everyday and eating right. It really kind of sucks at first, because you hurt all the time and you're always hungry. Eventually, you start to adjust and you reach this weird zone where you still kind of hurt and want to eat everything in sight, but it also feels oddly good. I associate it in my own mind with swimming laps. You get done and you're sore and feel water-logged with a faint odor of chlorine you can't wash out of your hair. 

But when you think of how hard it is, you have to remember that "every day is its own gift." 

She loves "Blot, Blot, Blot, Pat, Pat, Pat, Dry, Dry, Dry.

Most days it means I have a funny little baby who thinks every song I make up is awesome--especially "Legs, Knees--Baby Knees." Don't worry. I'm not going to sing it for you. It's really bad, but Willow loves it. We sing it at bath time and at lotion time. There is no one else in the world who appreciates my singing like she does.

Then there are other gifts. I can now eat an entire meal in as little as three minutes if my baby is crying. And I can sometimes convince myself that I don't really need to go to the bathroom, because if I put her down, she might lose her mind. Being so attached does offer some advantages--I can easily justify getting very little done around the house, because she really needs me.

There are also giant surprise gifts, like yesterday when we had our first episode of projectile vomit. I am still finding spots that we missed cleaning yesterday.

I realize that most of these gifts don't sound very glamorous. At least a few probably even sound horribly unpleasant. But there are certainly others.

For example, I now find myself belonging to an enormous club. Other members frequently check in to make sure I am receiving all of the benefits I was promised. The contributions of other mothers to what I hope will be a successful run for me, is truly a gift. I also get to be part of a never ending conversation--the one about how we bring these little ones along the best way possible and give them the best life we can. I'm definitely a new contributor to that conversation, but I look at that as a gift too.

Mostly, the daily gifts are pretty good. I have this little human that I both helped to create, and I now get to shape. It is a giant responsibility, for sure. But it's also a giant opportunity. I now understand why every mom thinks her child is beautiful, because they are. I now understand how it's different when it's your own child. I happily use a NoseFrida, even though I swore I never would, and the only reason I took off almost every stitch of clothes I had on after the vomit episode yesterday was to protect the leather couch. 

There are hard moments. There are the moments I fear I will never know what it feels like not to be tired again. Most days I wonder if I will ever truly eat a full meal and seconds if I want them again. I know there's a fair amount of envy that getting enough to eat continues to be a challenge for me as a mom.  

She is "especially fine."

And then I remember--I have the privilege of seeing almost every single one of her little smiles. I get to be around for every one of her milestones. I get to be the only person who can hold her just that certain way, because she won't stay still like that for anyone else. I almost always get to be the first face she sees when she is ready to get up for the day--and luckily, most days she wakes up happy to start her day. I hope I am one of the reasons for that happiness. And I get to know what it's like to love her like I will never love anyone else, and to understand everything about our existence in a way I never could before.

Everyday is Mother's Day. There may not be a Hallmark card waiting for me, and there may not be a package with a giant bow on it. That's okay. If those are the gifts you sign up for, you're going to be disappointed a lot and you are overlooking the real gifts.

Sweetest Thing--U2