Admitting you have a problem

Admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery, right? So uh, hi. My name is Allison and I can't stop posting photos of my smiley little boy in adorable outfits.

Or in this case, adorable footwear. In my defense, this photo stream started out with a clear purpose: to send Great Aunt Monika a photo of Nils in the darling strawberry booties she knit for him. Problem is, once I started taking pictures I couldn't stop. And now I can't stop myself from posting them. 

Yes, the photos are all similar. Yes, this is probably the equivalent of showing you slide after slide of my vacation in Florida. You probably don't marvel the way I do at the slight variations in his expression, the movements of his hands. You might think to yourself, "easy there, lady. One picture is plenty."

One step at a time.

Friday moon

Last Friday was a beautiful day. One of those days that makes me love where I live. Nils and I met up with some moms and babies. We took a long walk in the park. We chatted with various shopkeepers and passersby. The sun shone brightly. It was 75 degrees in the sun.

That evening Oliver and I went out to dinner in the neighborhood, Nils in tow. Nothing big, just a local ramen place. Still, we were out to dinner! With the baby! We've done brunches and lunches before, but dinner felt like a big deal. It was a beautiful night and the entire neighborhood was outside. Everyone had shed a layer or two, and the giddiness was palpable.

"Oh look Olli," I said as we paused at a corner to wait for a walk sign. "The moon looks huge." It was the night before a full, blue moon, and it was enormous. Bright too, and constantly darting out from behind a patchwork of cloud cover. "Let's just stand here for a minute and look at it."

I love being a mom, and the happiness I've felt in recent weeks is so much more than I had hoped for. I love being with Nils, and I feel like Oliver and I have really hit our stride as parents. I am so, so glad we have reached this point because it certainly didn't start out this way.

I woke up early the day we went home from the hospital. It was a cold, clear January day. We had an amazing view of the Manhattan skyline - you could even catch a glimpse of the Chrysler building if you looked out to the left. My beautiful little son lay sleeping in his clear plastic hospital bassinet, and my husband was conked out in one of those terrible, uncomfortable chair-cum-beds. We were going home! I sat up gingerly, swung my feet off the side of the hospital bed, and bawled.

I knew why I was crying. It was the hormones. Every pregnancy book I had read told me to watch out for day 3 - that was when the baby blues might hit. It also didn't help that I hadn't slept more than an hour or two a night since Nils had been born. So I knew all these things, but that didn't make blowing through an entire box of tissue any easier.

The first weeks of motherhood were hard. I've talked to a lot of new mothers since then, and without exception everyone talks about those first weeks as though we're telling war stories. Physical pain, breastfeeding issues, lack of sleep, uncertainty, frequent bouts of weepiness, etc. You've got this little baby who you love so much, but you've also got this strange feeling of dread - in my case it seemed almost like a physical thing, the size of a lemon and located directly in the center of my chest.

I would tiptoe over to look at Nils while he slept, and while an overpowering love sometimes swept over me, an overpowering terror took over the other times. I often felt guilty, but could never figure out what it was that I had done so terribly. I cried multiple times each day, mostly between 4 and 6 pm - my baby blues "witching hour". I wanted to be a joy-filled mother, but I couldn't stop feeling anxious and upset.

But then things started getting better. And once they started getting better, they got really good really quickly. The hormones leveled out, he started sleeping a little longer at night, I became more sure of myself as a mother, he started to smile, etc. Before I knew it I was excited to get up in the morning, and I was that mother in the cafe reassuring the woman with the three week old that "it gets better really soon. Trust me." Nils's and my days became full of smiles and happiness, and the unexplainable, groundless guilt I had often previously felt turned to an easy confidence. I know I'm not a perfect mother, but I know that I love my son. More importantly, I know that he knows I love him. As long as we have that down pat, the rest will work itself out.

It was this peace of mind then, that made me see the moon and marvel at it the way I did. So much to be excited about! I watched the light dim slightly behind a passing cloud, and looked forward to getting Nils excited about things like this. I looked forward to the excuse to see things through his eyes, to having little adventures, just the two of us. I hoped that he would be the kind of kid who sneaks up to the roof just to look at the moon and have a private, secret moment.

Handknits in action

Back in the last days of my pregnancy, I used this blog to show off some of the things I was knitting for Nils. Ah yes, all that time on my hands.

It recently occured to me that I should post some follow up pictures - show my hard work put to good use. Without further ado then, ...

The easy baby kimono. Bright green with navy blue ties. Totally non scratchy. Makes him a bit thicker and even sweeter to hug.

The easy baby cardigan. Still just a teensy bit big, which is nice. This will be a nice Spring sweater, for when it's too warm for a coat but too cool for just a shirt.

And my favorite, the manly baby vest. Soft, warm, bright and stylish. There is only one problem with this vest: once you see your baby in it, the risk of an impromptu photo shoot increases dramatically.

That's it... work it, baby!

Oh yeah, gorgeous smile! Gimme more!

The camera loves you! (So does Mama.)

Let's add some accessories!

Pure gold!

More thoughts (with alas, no creative title)

The rest of the world continues to go about its business (protests in Wisconsin! Revolution in the Middle East and North Africa!), and my focus continues to remain right here in my little one-bedroom corner of the world. It's amazing how much little details and mundane tasks have taken on such importance. My days are full of repetition: feeding, changing diapers, pacing the floor while bouncing the little boy on my shoulder. I tend to say the same things over and over too; exclamations when he lifts his head during "tummy time", outpourings of affection when he smiles at me, words of reassurance when he cries.

Sometimes I wonder if my intellect is being dulled by all this repetition, and sometimes I think I'm getting to some higher plane - getting to some greater meaning by seeing past the mundane. Or maybe I'm just being a mom to my son. Whatevs.

A few scattered thoughts I've had in recent weeks:

* Oh wow, breastfeeding is nature's way of forcing you to bond with your baby. As a breastfeeding mother you cannot be apart from your child for more than a couple hours. The two of you spend hours - literally - each day in close physical contact. How did I never realize this before? Incredible. I love nature and all the ways it makes us do the right things.

* If you are riding in a cab and your baby lets out a loud, squirty fart, how can you make sure the cabbie knows that the noise didn't come from you?

* If you constantly call your child one name or another from a long list of nicknames (Nilsie, Nilsie Q, Q, Squirmy Squirms, Squirms, Sweet Pea, Sweetie Sweets, Cutie Petootie, Cutie Petoots, Petoots, Toots, Drools Verne, Smiler, Little Guy, etc.), how long will it take him to realize that his actual name is Nils?

* Being a parent has made me realize that there is no one way to do anything. People are so passionate about so many things (Formula is wrong! A baby must sleep on its back! Let the baby tell you when it's time to eat, not the other way around! For proper bonding to occur, it is crucial that the mother and baby room together in the hospital - no nurseries, please!)... yet when my own mother had her babies, the rules were all different. She was told to do things so much differently, and my brother and I turned out just fine. I'm going to follow most of the "rules" as they are written now, and my kids will turn out just fine. As far as I'm concerned though, people can do whatever they want with their kids. If the rules are just going to change again in 30 years, who am I to say who's right and who's wrong?

* I can't believe how much attention Nils and I get when we go out in public! Or more accurately, Nils and that random, uninteresting lady who is carrying him. People love little babies. I get tons of comments, and often notice people sneaking glimpses at him out of the corners of their eyes.

* You know, given enough diapers and clothing changes, and a willingness to breastfeed in public, there's really no limit to how long we can be out and about. Good lord, we FLEW to Wisconsin the other week, just the two of us. If we can do that we can do anything.