10 rules for desperate moms

I usually hate these kind of lists, but I haven't yet found a really useful one. In case mine is useful for anyone else, here it goes:
1. Chill out. Relax. They don't break. Really. Newborns are amazingly designed to survive the first four months of life shared with first time parents. So just chill. Most likely, if you are calm, the baby will be calm too. I know, I know, easier said than done. Maybe the second time around...
2. Babies are persons. I was recently told by someone that my toddler looks like a little adult. He IS a little adult. Treat them as such. They are not stupid. They just have communication issues. Like political parties. And you still vote for them, don't you?
3. Raising my child between two cultures has shown me that rules are not that important. Most of them, at least. I will link another list with the cultural "raising babies" differences between Spain and the USA. http://spanishmom.blogspot.com/2009/03/growing-list-of-differences-between.html
4. Everyone said so and I didn't listen: time goes by sooooooooo fast. Suddenly, they are two.
5. Babies don't need tons of things. They are actually overwhelmed by too many toys. Most of them prefer to play with the boxes that contain the toys. Or with a wooden spoon and a pot. Or with a piece of fabric...
6. They love to imitate you. And to feel included. Our son has eaten with us at the table since he was very young. He is a very good eater, and eats almost everything.
7. Don't create picky eaters. Get them used to real food since the beginning. Pureeing food doesn't take long. It smells better, it tastes better, and it is healthier. Expose them to anything you are eating (within safety standards), and they will be open to give it a try.
8. Shower them in books. I wasn't sure it would work but... it did. I have a 22 month old whose favorite toys are books. Not always his, though, we are still working on that.
9. Don't monopolize the baby. Fathers are able to do everything we do but breastfeeding. I often find that moms tend to consider fathers unsuitable to take care of them. They are not. They can be as effective, resourceful and compassionate as we are. Give them a chance.
10. Take time for yourself, specially if you are a stay at home mom. Go out with your friends, enjoy a movie, go shopping, or sit on a park and read. You will be happier, which will make your baby happier. It took me a while to admit this, but it really helps. And this way dad has time to bond with the baby alone.

I don't pretend to know everything. Actually I don't know much, but at least I know more than when we came back from the hospital with little L. I hope to keep learning for years to come. That's the most amazing thing about kids. They teach you many more things than you teach them.

A pain in the neck

And, unfortunately, it's not a metaphorical one. It hadn't come back in several months, maybe even a year, but here it is, making me think about the good old times. And it has to hit now, when I'm getting some of my energy back, when I'm reorganizing my life, and relaunching my social life. Because I am a social being, and I only thrive in society, surrounded by peers.
Going back to the pain, first, it was cause by a silly car collision (I wouldn't dare call it a crash) eight years ago, November 2000. I was driving to the University, stopped at a roundabout (you should have seen thousands of them if you have ever been in Spain), and the driver behind me hit me. At first I didn't feel bad, probably because my beloved Corolla was in pretty good shape, but in a few hours the pain started. I went to the ER, they gave me some Voltaren (powerful pain killer) and sent me home. I had a trip to Paris booked for the following week (by bus, of course), and I got the green light from the ER doctor to go. It was long and painful, I survived thanks to Tylenol (recommended by my gorgeous Venezuelan friend, who lived in Baltimore at the time), and called my mom to beg for a doctor's appointment. As soon as I got back to Vitoria I saw the doctor, and I had a esguince cervical grave, or cervical sprain. One month of physical therapy, three months without driving, a year on Tylenol and some money from the car insurance after, I was left with a recurrent pain, that comes back from time to time. I has gotten better with the years, and it doesn't hit often anymore. But a yoga class and six days without proper sleep (including one half spent on my baby's bedroom floor) have taken me back to 2000. But I don't have Venezuelan friends offering to get the best doctors anymore...
I'll go back to my life later. If I have time, and can still sit and hold my head...

Hiding, or prohibir es despertar el deseo

And I wish this post would be about a more luscious theme, but I'm sorry, it's just about smoking. I'm having a cigarette hiding in my own house, with the window opened, even when its 25 degrees outside. I live in a rental with no balcony, and the contract says I cannot smoke. But tonight I don't care. I just had a wonderful dinner cooked by Husband, and enjoy a glass of delicious Albariño, a Spanish white wine. But like if I were fifteen again, with my feet hanging from my bedroom's window, I am hiding.

Surviving

This week I spent two days alone with little L for the first time. As ridiculous as it sounds, husband had a seminar right here, in Chicago, but still had to stay in a hotel downtown. Networking, he said. So I was alone with the baby. I'm a scary cat. I don't like to spend the night alone anywhere. Not to talk about a house in a quiet street in Lincoln Square... I thought I wouldn't be able to sleep. Well, that was not the case. I have discovered several things:
1. I don't get scared that easily anymore. I turn off the lights, I would read for a while, and then I would go peacefully to sleep.
2. I sleep better alone. I know it's not romantic, but I think separated beds are a very civilized way of living. I miss him, but I got much better quality rest.
3. I was able to keep the house clean and tidy. Probably because I didn't expect anyone to help me. My daily routine was way more organized.
4. L is going to keep throwing tantrums. I have to learn how to cope with them.
I survived. I'm happy. I feel stronger.
I also made a new friend, a mom I meet n swimming class months ago. She is from the Philippines, and has a lovely eighteen month old. The boys had fun, and we were happy to have someone with whom we could have a girly grown up conversation. I need that sometimes. I need a break from intellectually charged conversations.
Loner mom is not so lonely lately. I guess that's good. Last Saturday I even went out and got pretty drunk. Not something I do often, but I had lost all of my alcohol resistance (remind me to talk about Spanish drinking habits another time). The hangover was horrendous, but I survived it too. And I want to go out again. Soon.

I met a mom!!!!!!!

And a Spanish one... Actually, two of them. I was with my friend S in an Austrian coffee shop (Julius Meinl, I'll write about it another day), and we met two Spanish moms, with kids the age of little L. I was ecstatic... They live around here, and we are meeting tomorrow, again. I'm happy. Like Rainbow Rob, "I made some friends, and had some fun". Loner mom met someone!

Yoga

For me the YMCA was part of the lyrics of an old 80's song. I actually never heard the original one until I came to the States, just a rendition by a Spanish group, "La década prodigiosa", that was pretty big in the late 80's. Now, it's the place where I take my son to his swimming classes once a week, and where I have started torturing myself with a yoga class. I don't think it's a particularly good one, but it fits my schedule. Not that I have much to compare to. The only other yoga class I have ever taken was a prenatal one, and it was amazing. Imagine twelve seven months pregnant ladies doing poses. Funny. It actually was. And I met my German friend there. The pace of this one is much faster (we are not pregnant, I guess), and not relaxing at all. There are a few guys, and I ended up revealing my bra during inversions. That's my fault, for trying to hide in XXL clothes. Lesson learned, I'll wear at least a sporty bra next time. Lace is not appropriate. Neither are nursing bras. I have been sore for four days, but I'm not giving up, I'm going back next Thursday. I'll wait a little bit more to start Pilates, until I get used to the soreness. In any case, I had a feeling of accomplishment when I finished. Job done. Or something like that.