it's been a year...

Friday was the one year anniversary of the day I left my full time job to embark on this journey of less paid work and more parenting time.  

What I learned/rediscovered over the past year:

1.)  It's really hard to slow down.  I realized that I'm a lot like this guy.  

2.)  I love, love, love teaching on the college level.

3.)  I'm a bit of an extrovert and adjunct work is lonely and isolating. And underpaid.

4.)  My kid is a really fun and inspired co-conspirator for: art projects, building forts, dance parties, and anything involving nature/outdoors (sand castles, check. collecting/drawing/observing plants, bugs and animals, check. hiking and camping, check.). 

5.) It really does keep getting better.

6.) The names of all the Disney princesses. The names of all the anti-princess princess books.

7.) That brave doesn't mean pushing your fear so far away you can't feel it anymore.  Brave is one 4 year old girl so determined to get to the top of the climbing toy that she does what needs to be done while weeping the whole way (she made it).

8.) That happiness doesn't mean ease. That sacrifice can be rewarding. That hard work doesn't just happen when we're getting paid for it.

9.) When my kid asks, "Is tomorrow a home day or a school day?" and I reply, "home day" and she squeals, and jumps up and down, my heart melts a little.

10.) Brave is also living the questions.

happy third birthday zora bean.

i was thinking today about this post that i wrote for zora's first birthday about what i learned during the first year of her life.

it's been two years since that post, and i still feel like mothering zora teaches me so much. here's a few lessons i've been chewing on lately:

1) perfection is not the goal. i like to aim for "good enough" and often enjoy the gap between "good enough" and perfection more than i would perfection. case in point: last night, on the eve of her third birthday, mike and i found zora in the kitchen mopping the floor - with an adult size mop. was the floor spotless this morning? no. was it worth it for the moment that she said "get out of here, guys. i'm mopping!" was it worth it to see our little girl proud of her accomplishment? hell yes on both counts.

2) guilt is a mother's worst enemy. enough said.

3) not getting your way all the time is really hard to get used to - for small children and adults. but it's also an essential skill for living in the world. i find that i have more empathy for zora's crying/whining/anger at being told no when i remember how hard it is for me to not be able to sleep in on the weekends anymore or get to go out after work on a whim without checking in with mike about picking up zora or have much time just for myself except for late at night when i'm a zombie. but i also know that those disappointments are greatly offset by the joy i get out of being a mother. so i know when zora is mad about a limit that i have set that in the long run she will benefit.

4) a good cry and a warm hug are cures for many things.

5) most adult style is very boring. most of us adult people have been indoctrinated into the idea that bright colors should not be worn together and that we better watch out for "clashing" patterns (such as stripes with polka dots). we are so, so wrong! i am inspired by zora and her friends' fashion choices.

6) as i said in the post referenced above, being in the present moment is one of the gifts motherhood brought into my life. however, i have also learned over the last 2 years that being in the present moment = a lot of big feelings. i love that zora and her friends can become so mad/sad at each other, express their feelings in a big way, and then be the best of friends a few moments later. i think there is something freeing about that level of honesty - it's raw, it hurts, but it's also clean. there's no baggage, no grudges, no passive aggressive communication. when they are mad, they're mad. and when they're happy, they're happy. i think there's something to learn here...

7) children have a remarkable memory and the old cliche about children being sponges is so true! it makes me marvel at our amazing human brains. i was reading zora we march, a wonderful book about the civil rights movement. it has a page that says "we march for justice." to which zora replies,"we say 'justice' when we go outside." i say, "what?" zora says, "remember when we went to occupy philly? not the old occupy philly but the new occupy philly and then there were a lot of people and we said 'justice'?"

8) the greatest joy is in the smallest things. tonight zora was yelling happily at the moon. we got on the bus to come home, and she said sadly "bye bye moon." when we got off the bus, she spotted it again - when we were half-way across a very busy street. she started jumping up and down madly and pointing at the moon and yelling "the moon! the moon!" what luck to get to spend time with a person who notices the moon, the pictures on a carton of milk, the smallest scratch on your hand, and wonders why giraffes are yellow in real life but purple on her washcloth.

9) self-esteem is not about success. it's about trying, and failing, and trying again until you can do it yourself (see #1) and feeling the glory of having figured it out. see: crawling, walking, feeding yourself, potty training, getting dressed by yourself, puzzles, learning to write your name, etc.

10) the world is a wonderful, amazing, difficult, heartbreaking place. i am so grateful for zora.

Ani Difranco - Paradigm

i've been thinking about mothering, and memory, and trying to raise

a righteous kid. this song seemed appropriate. here are the lyrics.

10 things i've learned during my first year of motherhood, in honor of zora's first birthday on saturday!

1 Any woman who gives birth without pain medications is a total bad ass. (Yes, I am.)

2 Breastfeeding hurts. (As Patty the lactation consultant says.) Even when you're doing it "right," for many women the first 4-6 weeks are hell. We're talking sore and cracked and sometimes bleeding nipples. It's not all it's cracked up to be! (Ha!) It is worth it, though, if you can manage to get through the hard part - the benefits to your baby are awesome!

3 Newborns sleep a lot, at first. As they start to wake up, they start to cry. It's perfectly normal for a newborn to cry many hours a day just for the fun of it.

4 There is nothing wrong (and in fact it's quite normal) with not feeling overwhelming gushes of love constantly for your baby during the first few months. Your baby is a peeing, pooping, crying, hungry mess who can't even smile at you or say thanks for not putting her out with the garbage when she kept you up the whole night. They key is to not put your baby out with the garbage. You will come to ADORE this little being, I promise. You will feel love like never before. (If you are still not feeling this good juicy love in a reasonable amount of time, you might have postpartum depression and should get some help. It happens to a lot of women!) In the meantime, if you think you MIGHT put your baby on the curb with your recyclables, hand her to a responsible adult - or if that's not possible, put her in her crib, and walk away. Get some rest, drink some tea, breathe. You can do it! It will all be worth it, and then some!

5 There is nothing wrong with nursing your baby to sleep every night if that's what works for you. Ditto for co-sleeping. Other people love to give advice about parenting, but you are the one living it, and you've got to make decisions that are going to work for you and your family.

6 It is possible to work full time and be an attentive, loving mama. I said possible, not easy!

7 Being a working, pumping mama ushers you into a secret society whose members recognize each other by the big black bags and back packs, and small black square coolers they are lugging back and forth from work on the train and the bus. The members of this society discuss such topics as "keeping my supply up", electric vs. hand pumps, single vs. double pumps, the most interesting place you have been forced to pump (tie between federal courthouse and bible school classroom for me), how to find time to pump during the work day, what is the best storage container for breast milk, what was your worst breast milk spill mishap, how many ounces can you pump at one time, hands free pumping, and so much more!

8 There is something mystical about devoting your full attention to one task, to really losing yourself in the joy of it, to losing track of time, to a clear mind. I'm talking about being with Zora. It is an otherworldly feeling to be fully with her, to ignore the to do list and the dust under the couch. On the other hand, there is also something incredible about a parent's ability to multi-task. In the early days, breastfeeding and checking my email at the same time allowed me to meet Zora's needs for nutrition and closeness and my needs for connection to adult loved ones and a sense of sanity. To say nothing of the joys of breastfeeding while sleeping!

9 Mothering without your own mother is hard. Really hard. My mom died two years ago this month. I miss my mom every day and the grief is compounded by my love for Zora. I want my mom to meet her beautiful granddaughter, to hold her, to rock her, to kiss her, to give me all kinds of advice (the good, the bad, the unasked for, the solicited...), to talk to me about how I was at that age. I want Zora to get to spend the night with my mom. I want to see Zora's face when she realizes that I am to her what my mom is to me.

10 The only thing that remains the same is that everything changes. So I am trying to soak up and savor every moment of this amazing, precious gift. Thanks to all of you who have been such a big support to me, to Mike and to Zora over the last year.

breastfeeding and fulfilling my civic duty

i had jury duty in district court yesterday. as a nursing mama, i certainly wondered how court staff were going to handle my pumping needs.

upon arrival, i was ushered into the security line and dutifully put my backpack on the security belt. the US marshall (they don't mess around in district court) had two things to question me about after my bag went through security. 1) the fork in my backpack. (me: sorry, sir, that's from lunch yesterday. US marshall: yes, well, m'am, you can't take a fork into the courthouse.) and 2) the "bag of electronics" at the bottom of my bag. (me, totally emboldened: that's my BREAST milk pump. do you want to see? US marshall, completely embarrassed: no, m'am, go right ahead, you're fine. i just need that fork, that's all.)

US Marshalls: 0 Nursing Mamas of the World: 1

whoever's taking notes: add federal courthouse to the list of unusual places susanna has pumped.

adventures in motherhood.

so i'm sitting on the 34 trolley yesterday with my backpack on my lap (to make as much room as possible for my fellow riders), minding my own business, when i feel the top of my pants getting wet. i pick up my backpack and notice the bottom is completely wet. my first thought is, "shit! i put my leftover indian food from lunch in my backpack - it must have spilled." so i quickly open my backpack to figure out who's the culprit and start pawing through all my work papers, lunch leftovers, and ... my cooler bag full of breastmilk.

yup, a full 5 ounce bag of breastmilk which i had dutifully pumped that day at work had punctured and leaked all over everything. my calendar, which i use to keep track of both my work and home life, was soaked. a high powered fan managed to dry most of the pages out but it still smells like milk today.

i'm taking it as a sign - trying to separate my professional identity and my mama identity may not be so simple. i'm a mom, and a trainer, and a lot of other things, and when i'm at work i'm also a mama- either because i know i better wrap up this presentation quick so i can go pump or because when i'm scheduling presentations i now do so in my milky-scented calendar or because i'm trying to end domestic violence so my little zora doesn't have to grow up in a world where 1 in 3 women experience violence by their intimate partner.

i'm also taking it as a sign that motherhood will continue to throw zingers at me, and i better be ready to laugh and keep truckin. just when i thought i had had enough bodily fluids leaked on me, as i was heading to bed last night i went to grab fine just the way it is, the book i'm reading right now, only to discover that the cover was, well, covered with spit up. motherhood is clearly full of surprises, and i'm trying my hardest to be up for the challenge!

working mama

i've been back at work for about a week and a half. 

the first day was incredibly painful.   i felt physically ill leaving my little one.

did you ever watch a nightmare on elm street, those crazy freddy krueger horror movies?

there's this one scene where he's on one side of the room and his victim is on the other. they're connected because freddy has pulled the tendons of the victim out - you see the victim looking horrified that half his body is stretched to the other side of the room.  that's sort of how i felt on monday.

it got easier every day. it really, really helped that zora was in the completely capable, loving hands of her nana, carol.  and that carol sends me regular text messages throughout the day letting me know what zora is up to.  (i'm not sure how i'm going to survive when she finally goes to daycare.) 

my usual efficient, multi-tasking self has succumbed to fatigue and delirium. i forget my pumped breast milk at work and have to hike up the three flights of stairs to retrieve it. i forget to wear nursing pads and leak all over.  my milk spurts out onto my computer keyboard. i forget words such as bird and bus. the highlight of my work day is seeing how many ounces i was able to pump.  i can't WAIT to get home to give zora a kiss, and could care less about all the work i should stay and finish when the clock says 5pm.

it's funny because my return to work coincided with the return of the mourning doves to the window sill outside my office. mama bird laid two perfectly round, white eggs. i'm waiting for babies birds to appear. stay tuned! i love having a mama buddy right outside my office window! 

hush little baby: zora loves this guy.

stay at home dad rap

zora, inside and out

we are overjoyed to welcome zora into our lives.  she was born on february 27, 2009 at 6:34am.

she's the best.

one year and 37 weeks

it's been one year since mom passed on from this world to the next.
it's been 37 weeks that bean has been getting ready to enter this world from the womb world.

i am celebrating both of them today.

i am remembering mom today - not the mom who died in hospice a year ago, her body crippled with multiple myeloma, but the mom who mothered me for 62 years. the mom who taught me what unconditional love feels like. the mom who was always my champion. the mom who taught me the value of true friends and community, in good times and bad. the mom who provided endless opportunities for fun and play, and knew how to have a good laugh. the mom who, whether working or not, always put a home cooked meal on the table and insisted we eat together as a family - even if this meant dinner at 8:30pm. the mom with the green thumb, whose yards were always beautiful and whose houses were full of plants. the mom who knew how to use coupons and look for sales and stretch a little money into a lot of groceries. the wordsmith mom - with her intense love of crossword puzzles and the way she could command a room during her trainings. the mom who spoke her mind. the stubborn, fierce, my-way-or-the-highway mom. the mom who could talk about her children endlessly to friends or strangers.

i believe that one of the best ways i can honor mom's spirit is to (attempt to) bring some of what i learned from her about being a good mother to my relationship with bean. i have felt her spirit with me strongly in the last few weeks, and believe she's going to be with me during my labor and my early journey into motherhood. i am very excited about bean's arrival, and hope that the love that mom offered to me during her time here on earth will nourish bean and our new family.

i appreciate all of you who remembered me today with emails and phone calls.

getting closer...

well, this mama (and papa!) are quite pleased that the bean decided to float and kick and squirm and sleep his/her way through the next few weeks head down. last time we saw the midwife we were told that bean was lying "transverse" - in other words, sideways across my belly. today (with the birth center's newly purchased ultrasound machine) we confirmed that bean is head down, getting ready...

at least this is some consolation for the horrendous rib pain i am having in my right side. seems like bean is getting big enough to be crowding my organs, thus causing me lots of pain. (not to mention heartburn from hell!)

i am hard at work reading everything i can get my hands on to prepare for the arrival of bean, including _the no cry sleep solution_, _the happiest baby on the block_, and just to mix it up a bit, _the maternal is political_. i figure the part of me that can't function without sleep needs as much instruction as the activist part of me when it comes to how motherhood is going to change me.

the little bean

we had our first ultrasound this morning, and saw a picture of the (if i may start bragging this early) very cute little bean.

seeing the little bean makes it much easier to put up with the trials and tribulations caused by the hormones that are keeping bean healthy - fun things like pregnancy acne and pregnancy gingivitis. and seeing bean also helps me to forget the hip pain, morning sickness,
and fatigue that i have hopefully had my fill of.

before i got pregnant i imagined pregnancy to be this time of great beauty and peace. i imagined i would be like the earth mama below, glowing and beautiful and in my body and totally natural.
i guess i just didn't anticipate the pimples, bleeding gums, pain, nausea, and exhaustion. or the cravings for cheez-its and chocolate. oh well! it looks like bean has made out a-ok so far even through his mama's ups and downs, and that's certainly what matters.

happy mother's day!

happy mother's day to all you incredible moms out there.

i've been thinking a lot lately (in anticipation of mother's day) of what my mom taught me about how to be a good mother.

here are some of the things that made my mom a spectatular mom:

• amazing listening skills. my mom could listen to ANY story i told her, from thrilling to boring. she always made me feel heard.
  
• remembering. my mom always remembered the stories i told her, and would ask me follow up questions the next time we spoke. this made me feel very important!
  
• she always knew who my friends were, and why i loved them. this was a great way for mom to know more about me, my values, and what i might be up to on any given saturday night. she also taught me through her actions the value of good friends.
• my mom always let me know how proud she was of me. this made me feel very confident and self assured.
  
• trust. my mom allowed me to do insane things because she knew she had raised me right and even if i found myself in a jam, i'd figure out a way to get out of it. my mom trusted me even when it pained her - even when she was scared to death. i think her deeply faithful nature helped here. especially when i declared in my junior year of high school that i was going to zimbabwe.
  
• leading by example. my mom never sat me down and said, "it's important to find a way to work towards justice in our world." she just did it, and i learned from her example.
• ritual and tradition. holidays and weekends were special. mom knew how to make ritual and do tradition - with food, with music, with decorations...
• being her own person. although mom was incredibly proud of her children, and talked about us at length whenever she got the chance even to strangers, she also had her own life. she had her own friends, her own interests, her own dreams, her own life.
  

here's to moms -- biological and chosen.

the line in this poem about "risk[ing] my significance" makes me think of the way my mom always put me first and gave endlessly of herself.

I will not live an unlived life.
I will not live in fear,
of falling or catching fire.
I choose to inhabit my days,
to allow my living to open me,
to make me less afraid,
more accessible;
to loosen my heart
until it becomes a wing,
a torch, a promise.
I choose to risk my significance,
to live so that which came to me as seed
goes to the next as blossom,
and that which came to me as bloosom,
goes on as fruit.

Dawna Markova