One half year gone by

Yesterday was October 28th, the day my darling little Elena officially turned six months.  We celebrated on Tuesday with a fun party at Karinna's that included cake, goody bags and even three presents.  I made sure there was one present for Eliza, and her friends Lindsey and Julieann to open as baby Elena still hasn't quite mastered the skill of tearing open packages yet.  

Although Elena was oblivious to the gift-giving extravaganza, Eliza and her friends greatly enjoyed the gifts.  Eliza proudly showed anyone who walked into Karinna's house the cute little socks that look like ballet shoes.  "These are for ballet class," she said of the pink ones and "These are for leotard class" she said of the black ones.  Julieann, a first grader who recently mastered reading, was applauded for reading Elena's new book to her.  And the toy, a chomping alligator that scoots across the floor, was enjoyed by all of us.  Elena lay perched on her tummy, doing her little pushups, her head turning in confusion, every time the alligator chomped by.

Yesterday, the day of her actual birthday, Eliza and I celebrated with a pizza dinner and a group bath.  Yes, all three of us climbed into the bathtub and watched Elena kick and splash in the big bathtub for only the second time.  Her little legs are so chubby and short, it's so cute to watch her kick them in the water.  Eliza kept dumping water on her head but Elena never cried.  Nor did she laughed, she seemed focused and thoughtful about this new sensation of being immersed in a big tub of water.  

I am blessed a second time with a happy baby, the kind that makes me want to have 10 more.  Obviously, this is not only clinically impossible (I guess that's not exactly true in this day and age), but economically and emotionally impossible.  But having a baby is honestly the loveliest thing in the world to me.  I love her chubby legs, I love her soft, fine hair.  I love her giggles and her cries of delight and her look of wonder when she looks up at track lighting.  She is a miraclulous, pleasant, low-maintenance kind of girl who spends most of her time out in public smiling at everyone.  She has yet to experience any kind of stranger anxiety--when I hand her to some one else, she looks for me but seems content to be in whoever's arms.  She's not a good napper, spends most of the day fighting sleep and only succumbing for tiny, 20 minute naps.  She does sleep at night, so I keep my complaining about the day fussiness to a minimum.

"There's nothing quite like being a mother," my friend Meredith's mom once said to me.  It seems like such a simple statement but at the time and even now, it speaks volumes.  I love being a Mom more than anything else I've ever done.  Oh there are moments where I just don't think I have the strength to fight with Eliza to put on her tights or get the car seat buckled over her jacket or pay the bills that keep mounting up with very little money coming in.  But had I not had children, I would have missed out on the one great achievement that has easily given me the most happiness.

The Yummy Tummy

Having a baby is just about the loveliest thing in the world.  Oh sure, there's lots of poop and puke and waking up to a wet bed because my boobs have leaked all over the sheets.  But the flip side of the last mentioned annoyance is the boobs are leaking because my baby is sleeping for several hours in a row.

Elena is at a stage where she's an absolute joy right now.  Most of her waking moments are spent smiling, feeding and happily looking around the room at different colors and patterns.  She demands very little and other than turning onto her tummy and moving her arms and legs, she's pretty stationary.  I don't have to worry about her getting into everything.  I don't have to worry about her sticking small objects in her mouth because as yet, she can't get to them on her own.  Instead, I simply get to lay her on her playmat and watch her smile at herself in the mirror while I type.  Yes, that's what I'm doing right now.  

She's got short, chunky legs that remind of of drumsticks.  Her butt is cushy and fun to squeeze.  Her tummy is surprisingly flat, but no less fun to kiss over and over and over again.  She squeals and makes screechy, giggley noises when I kiss her tummy.  

Next week, she will be five months old and I'll be officially reminded of how fast her babyhood is flying.  But for now, I have this post to remind me of the lovely days of relative peace, of the simple joy of a contented baby who enjoys a little music, a little mirror and the wet pleasure of her right thumb.

Baby Elena

And here's another photo of my darling baby Elena.  She has dimples!  It's so cute!  The top photo was taken by Eliza--do I have a budding photographer in my midst?

New World

If you're still reading, and I hope you are, I haven't died or fallen off the face of the earth.  There's been a lot of changes and taking care of two kids on my own is very time consuming but the main reason I haven't written is due to lack of internet access.  I'm currently writing today from the local library on a rare weekday that C came to NJ to visit the girls.  Usually he comes on Sunday, a day that the library is closed.  

It's been a lovely, though difficult and emotional summer.  I am sorry to see the summer end, seemingly just as it was revving up.  We had some wonderful days and some awful days.  I tried to do too much--I didn't do enough.  My girls are wonderful--being a mother is wonderful.  My girls can't stop crying, I can't stop yelling, being a mother is horrible.  I am tryng to learn to forgive my shortcomings but everything seems to make me feel like a loser these days.  Seeing photos of Kim Clysters after her big win at the US Open Tennis tournament fills me with sadness.  Looking at her clutching her darling toddler on the tennis court after such a big win makes me wonder why my daughter's mother has accomplished so little.  

But I'm 42 and there's still time, hopefully.  This summer, a friend I really cared for died suddenly of a heart attack.  He was only 38 and one of the best people I know.  I am still reeling from the news of his death on August 2nd.  He was the first person I truly cared about that died young and suddenly.  It is so tragic, I can barely think of it without crying.

Elena is four-and-a-half months.  She is a wonderful baby, either sleeping or laughing and smiling. She started night waking this past week and is more tired and grumpier than usual but still, life with her is a wonderful joy.  I am very blessed.  

I'm leaving you with a photo of my two girls with their older half-siblings.  I will rarely see the other two kids now that I've made the break from their father but they will always have a piece of my heart.  

Elena at two months

Elena's two month party passed with little fanfare.  I took her up to New York to continue packing and was too busy with the awful process that is moving there was little time to celebrate.  I did take her to a party to say good-bye to my great friends Peter and Meredith who are on the road to their new life in Virginia today.  She spent the entire party crying.  Too much noise and too many faces gaping at her.

I spent the night in my old apartment with C in the bedroom, me on the fold-out couch with Elena and Eliza in her old bedroom.  Eliza was ecstatic to wake up to find me there and I felt bad that it would be the last morning she would wake up to both of us but I had to leave C, I  had no choice and being around him is still very painful.

The move to our new apartment in New Jersey, just a half hour from my mother and very close to the beach, is set to happen on Wednesday, July 8th.  Moving is dreadful and expensive.  On top of he expense of hiring movers to haul the stuff 70 miles, I was shocked to find my building in New York demands a $1,000 move out deposit.  They return $650.00 to you if nothing in the elevator is damaged and pocket $350.00.  It's the kind of reality that makes me very happy to leave New York City.  With only one elevator and a doorman, it's impossible to move out on the sly so this is another $1,000 that I've had to cough up at the most expensive time in my life.

Yes, with a new, probably too expensive (but it's beautiful and my girls will love it!) home, having to buy a car and the move itself, I could go on and on about how broke I'll be which is really terrifying in this economy.  But I'm forcing myself to accentuate the positive--I am starting a new life in a new place with my two beautiful new girls.  

We've had so many good time (and a few bad ones, I'll confess) in this past month.  There was the day went to an animal farm and Elena slept the whole time in the Bjorn while Eliza happily fed the animals.  Or the day my mother watched the baby while I took Eliza to the beach and we jumped in the waves and built sand castles.  Or the nights at the local Ihop on "character night" while I watch Eliza make new friends with the children who've shown up  to gape over some guy in a Mickey Mouse suit.  Eliza has flourished at K's daycare next door, really making friends among this group of lovely young children who come from different parts of Ocean County to spend their days guided by Karinna.  

One night that stands out particularly in my mind is a rainy evening on a ride back from New York with both girls.  It started pounding rain as soon as we got in the car and Elena was screaming in hunger.  Spying a strip mall parking lot, I pulled over, parked and got Elena out of the car seat while the sky dumped buckets of rain on my back.  Squeezing into the passenger seat with her draped on my lap, I reached back to hold hands with Eliza with my free hand.  Rain pummeled the windows of the car while Eliza screeched "too noisy."  I had one baby on my lap, one little girl on the back seat while the rain sheeted the windshield and thought all was right with the world.  

I miss New York City and the life I had there.  I miss my friends and the long walks we'd take.  I've remembered a lot of the good times with C and I've missed them too.  I'm grateful that I can remember the good times.  I've got a tough road ahead of me, caring for two young children on my own.  I don't know what the future holds but I'm trying to stay optimistic.  Right now, the biggest hurdles are packing through this long weekend while C enjoys a beach weekend with Eliza (you bet I'm jealous and will miss her like crazy the four days that she's gone), the move and then unpacking and furnishing the place with very little money.  

But then once it's done, there's my new life in a beautiful apartment (I better enjoy, I'll probably only be able to afford it for one year), a park and the beach within walking distance, and the summer ahead.  And best of all, I'll get to wake up every morning that C doesn't have the kids, in my own home with my own girls, and start the day.

Just a Happy Day

We celebrated the occasion of my second daughter turning one month old with a fun party at Karinna's yesterday.  The party was mainly for my older girl (as well as myself) as my younger girl did her part by sleeping through the entire party.  Eliza loved the party and I loved an occasion to celebrate during a rainy, kind of tough couple of months.  In many ways I felt reborn.  

It was a day to celebrate my daughter's passage from newborn into infancy.  I also celebrated my new life as a single parent, my metamorphosis from mother of one to mother of two, and the simple joy of knowing, this time I won't be raising a baby in an abusive relationship.  

It was a simple party but Eliza still insisted on heading to Karinna's in her best party dress.  Karinna, by the way, is my mother's next door neighbor who runs a day-care center out of her home.  Eliza has been playing with Karinna's "kids" since birth and loves going there to play with her friends.  I loved having an excuse to throw Eliza's friends a party.

I showed up with balloons and goody bags for everyone, funny party hats and a cake that looked like an oversized cupcake.  Eliza loved it all; the Strawberry Shortcake hats that one of the kids accurately likened to a nurse's hat, the pink maracas in the goody bags and the chance to blow out "the fire" on some one else's birthday cake.  It has been a tough time for Eliza and I was overjoyed to see her running through Karinna's spotless white kitchen with her head thrown back in laughter.  She not only enjoyed the celebration, she loved showing off her little sister to her friends.  She's so proud of being a big sister, it's intoxicating.  

Elena is a pretty good baby though she still has her nights and days confused.  I can't help but compare the differences between her and her sister.  She's a fussier baby then Eliza was but she's still pretty placid.  As the weeks have gone on, she's definitely showcased more of a temper and an opinion than the sleepy newborn who slept through most nights at the hospital.  She seems less decisive than Eliza, with weak cries that aren't quickly silenced by being picked up or fed.  While Eliza screamed until she got what she wanted, Elena cries meekly while I try a variety of different soothers from picking her up to singing to nursing as if to say "I'm not quite sure what I want but I want something."  It seems usually what she wants is to be held.  I try to fill that need as best I can but I'll be honest, it's harder with two.  I guess that's why they say the second kid is always less needy than the first.  They get used to not getting what they want on a daily basis.  

As my incision heals, I've been able to be more of a physical mother to Eliza.  I can play with her more and have her on my lap again.  Pretty soon I'll be able to run with her though I realize it's never going to be like it once was.  I'm not going to be able to run that fast with a baby strapped to my chest.  

I will always remember the morning of April 27th.  Eliza's waking up ritual has evolved over the past few months.  Back in the apartment I abandoned in New York City, Eliza would leave her room and climb into bed to cuddle with me every morning.  Here at my mother's, she'd wake up and call for me until I came into her room.  Closer towards the end of my pregnancy, she'd stand at the bottom of the steps to my bedroom calling my name.  

On the morning of April 27th, I went down the steps towards her knowing this would be the last morning of this particular ritual.  C was arriving that day for my scheduled C-section the following day and I thought he'd probably go to her first thing in the morning.  As we embraced that morning, I was very aware that by the next day, everything would be different.  What I didn't know was that my water would break later that day and that I wouldn't even see Eliza the following morning.  

When talking about beating stress, specialists often suggest closing your eyes and going to that special place and now my special place is reserved just for Eliza and me on that morning of April 27th.  All I have to do is close my eyes and it will forever be that day with her at age 3 1/2 and me, still relatively young at 41.  I hear her voice say "Mama" and open the door to reveal her at the bottom of the steps with her arms outstretched.  I waddle down the steps with my very pregnant belly and feel her little arms wrap around me and I know, this is it, this is the last time it will be just the two of us.

Missing Eliza

I miss my big girl.  She's spending the weekend with her father and I miss her like crazy.  Initially, he expected to have her back around 1pm tomorrow, now she probably won't return until 3pm.  It's only two hours difference but I'm so anxious for her to return.  This is what it's like to be separated--weekends without my wonderful daughter.

I'm enjoying my newborn and I have to admit, I managed to get extra sleep today.  But my mother's house is so quiet without my darling Eliza.  

Even before C took her, I've been missing my girl like crazy.  Missing the relationship we used to have that's now forever changed by the presence of this other person.  I love my young daughter Elena, but I miss the things I used to do with Eliza.  I can't do many things now because I'm still recovering from surgery.  But things are not going to be what they were and I've never been one to like change.  

Eliza is so proud of being a big sister and she seems to love the baby, but I feel like I spend the majority of most days reminding Eliza to be careful with the baby, with my boo boo, with my mother.  I dump her off at day care next door every day, desperate to get home and have a nap.  Because Elena refuses to sleep in her bassinet, she spends most nights in bed with me.  Since Eliza hates to come upstairs and find the baby in bed with me, now when I hear Eliza run towards the steps in the morning, I dump Elena in the bassinet like a philandering boyfriend caught in a rest stop bathroom.  

I am so jealous of all that C can do with Eliza at the moment: pick her up, carry her around, encourage her to jump into his arms, and spend an entire weekend showering her with undivided attention.  When I called her tonight, she barely spoke to me she was having such a breathlessly fun time with her father.  You bet I'm jealous even though I don't envy C at all.  C plays with Eliza for hours--using dolls as puppets, hovering under umbrellas in Eliza's bedroom pretending there's a rainstorm.  He is the perfect playmate for her--he never tires of playing with toys and slipping into the world of his imagination.  I suppose this is why he and I could never make it as a couple--C doesn't live in the adult world.  

While others might envy his ability to play with Eliza for hours, I find it rather destructive.  She orders him around and enjoys his complete dissolution into a make-believe world.  When she plays with other children her own age, she doesn't like that they don't take orders from her.  Last week, I watched him crawl around on all-fours pretending to be a horse.  Whenever he tried to sit up, she'd scream, like a brat frankly, "Get back down on the floor, horsey!"  While I took some satisfaction in watching him submissively creep around like a begging animal, I didn't like the message that his taking orders sent to our daughter.  Tonight, when he spoke to me briefly about their return tomorrow, she screamed "Get off the phone right now."  This is not how I want my daughter to act.  Talking is useless--C will forever be competing with me for her affections.

I tell myself when she gets home tomorrow and isn't that thrilled to see me after a weekend with her favorite playmate, that's okay, I'll be thrilled to see her.  That's what matters in the end, how I feel about her.

But I miss my girl, really miss my girl and the relationship we had that's not necessarily worse, yet different now.