In the weeds

I think its fair to say that there were a number of people who expected us to move from our fourth floor walk up and get a car with the arrival of Amelia. Those two things are still not on the Gibson To Do list, but I will admit, one thing that has slipped—somewhere between bottle washing and attempting to find time to make it to the gym—is blogging. But, with a nudge from a dear friend and perhaps for my own memory, here’s the view “from the weeds”—a favorite phrase of Miriam’s Kitchen’s chef.

We’re still amazed at how much our little girl has captured our hearts. Leaving work, sometimes I find that I hop a cab home just because I don’t want to wait and extra half hour to see her. In the morning, my last squeeze before I head out for the day is sometimes one of my favorite parts of the day. Occasionally, I want to stomp my feet like a little girl because I simply don’t want to go to work, and wish I could spend the day with her.

 

Amelia has entered a new phase of development that is so fun. She eats food (squash, peas and carrots are hits. My girl also loves a good fried egg yolk). She rolls over and giggles at our little games. They even have her painting now at “school."

We’re also not sure though where our schedules have gone. Josh and I both wonder out loud about how we’ve let things slip. I only partially joke that if something is not number one on my to do list, it just doesn’t get done.

We spend at least part of our day negotiating schedules and even with two college degrees and one graduate degree between us, it really is never-ending and not easy. We are both committed to still going to the gym, the one thing we have decided we can’t let slip. But then we enter into conversations like this (an extended quote from an actual email, guess who wrote it):

“So, here's how I see our gym situation:

My Gym Preferences
1.) Three times a week (twice Mon-Thurs, once Sat-Sun)
2.) Preferably not three days in a row
3.) Only full workouts (90 minutes at gym, 150 minutes from starting to put on gym clothes to getting home)

Your Preferences
1.) Two times a week
2.) Only classes, no independent workouts
3.) No leaving classes early

Classes you might go to (with possible conflicts/problems in parentheses):

Monday 7PM: Zumba (conflicts with board meetings)
Wednesday 7:30PM: Inspired Yoga 1/2 (Josh can't work out afterwards)
Thursday 7PM: Zumba (frequently social events on Thursdays)
Saturday noon: Inspired Yoga 1/2 (conflicts with Sara's nap)
Sunday 10AM: Anusara Yoga (Gentle Yoga) (conflicts with Josh sleeping in)
Sunday 6PM: Mellow Flow Yoga (conflicts with Sunday dinner prep)

Since my weekend gym trip is usually Sunday, since I can't go to the gym on Wednesday b/c of yoga, since I usually don't go to the gym on Thursdays b/c of social stuff, and since I don't go to the gym on Fridays b/c they close early, that's how I end up going to the gym three days in a row (Sun, Mon, Tue). That's the problem we have to solve.”

But its still all worth it.

Nothing lights up a room like that smile or a giggle.

Back to adoring our little girl and trying to arm wrestle our schedule,

sPg

Savoring

As I was rocking Amelia to sleep tonight, the one word that kept coming to mind was “savoring."  I feel like that is the one word to describe how I go about my hours, days, weeks, and now months with our little Amelia. I just don’t want to miss a thing, and even in those few moments where my eyes seem so incredibly heavy for lack of sleep, I find myself wanting to just soak it all in. I have heard “the days are long, but the years are short,” and at four and half months, I can already sense the truth in that adage.

So, yes, our little girl is nearing five months old. She is squarely a baby now rather than an infant or, to put it differently, and as I’m prone to say, “she’s entirely less blobby now”. She coos, squeaks, laughs, and has endless staring contests with whoever is around.  

She is also our pink bombshell since it seems that about 95 percent of her clothing is pink and there is no doubt that she loves her some breastmilk, from the source please. I think her little personality is starting to show and I predict that she will be a serious and inquisitive little girl. She also still has her blue eyes, but I’m not yet convinced she’ll keep them.

I have also started to sense that just as our little girl is slowly evolving into who she will be, I am continuing to evolve into the type of mother I will be. It continues to be a transition that feels easier than I expected in so many ways, but unexpectedly difficult in others. The business of parenting—whereby I wake up already at a dead sprint and seem to collapse into bed after completing 30 “baby tasks”--hasn’t generally been as difficult or as tedious as I expected. I would even go so far as to say I am having fun. 

Coping with a sore back, aching wrist, and ongoing scheduling negotiations has been harder than I expected. Finding a willing and responsible adult to spend time with Amelia so Josh and I can remember what it's like to be husband and wife (and not just mom and dad) has been gratefully easy due to kind offers by many generous friends and relatives. Finding time to get my hair cut and colored or my eyebrows waxed is a lot harder than it used to be. Dealing with all the details of continuing to breastfeed while also working full time hasn’t been too difficult, but finding time to wash bottles still feels like finding a needle in a haystack. Riding the bus seems remarkably smooth, even with a stroller, but not having the option to just hop into a taxi (since we haven’t figured out yet how to safely put the car seat into the older cars that the cabbies inevitably drive) is one of the biggest life adjustments we've had to make.

I have also realized that I am happily evolving into a fairly low-key mother, which is pleasantly shocking. Even a dear friend said, “You know Sara, I thought you were going to be a lot more neurotic than you are.” I honestly couldn’t agree more. I guess I am finding that just as my “spidey sense” guided me and served me well in pregnancy, it continues to serve me well as we tackle issues from when should Amelia start solid foods (not yet) to what should she eat when she does eat (probably chicken, almost certainly not rice cereal) to when she go to bed (probably a bit later than "typical”). Now don't get me wrong--I don’t want to give away my right to be a crazy, obsessive mom, but I just haven’t quite found the right time or place for it yet. Maybe I’m saving myself up for her school years or for her toddler years.

And so here I end. Its just before 10PM and a few more chores remain to be done—and number one on my to do list is to go peek at that beautiful sleeping little girl of mine just one more time.

Still savoring,

sPg

Papa!

[Josh, right after Sara told him she thought she had gone into labor.]

It's time to put the “his” back in “hisandhersparigi”! Yes, I'm bringing “his” back (but leaving “sexy” right where I left it). We're not in Parigi anymore, so without that, and without me, our blog was running dangerously close to being called “Hers,” which is one towel short of a rack, and sounds suspiciously like “hearse,” which is creepy.

[The day Amelia was born!]


So, I'm a father. Above and beyond the incredible fabulousness of that, I have to admit that it's still unbelievable—literally hard to believe. It's like when I started my first “real job”: it took weeks before I stopped feeling like I was “playing office,” and would be called out for it at any minute. And it's a lot like after getting married—for weeks, I had the hardest time keeping a straight face when I used words like “wife” and “our wedding.” To make a timely analogy, it's a bit like remembering to write “2010” on checks. The first time you do, it's incredibly deliberate, and feels like make-believe. After that, it eventually becomes natural, but every once in a while, it's April, and you find yourself slipping up and writing last year's date.

No, I don't forget I have a daughter! Ever since we decided to expand our family, the whole time Sara was pregnant, and most of all since Amelia was born, we obviously and blissfully have thought of little else. But still, when words like “daughter,” “father,” and “Amelia” come up in conversation, I still skip a beat, and grin a bit internally, before saying them.

A couple of weeks back, at the pediatrician's office, I was checking us in, and the surly desk agent asked me “Child's date of birth?” I paused a few beats too long before responding. Clearly I hadn't forgotten—that's one of those Dates When Everything Changes; plus, who can forget a Halloween birth date?!? I had just never been asked that question that way before. When I told friends or colleagues I hadn't seen for a while that Amelia had arrived, they might ask “When was she born?” But that day at the doctor's office when I was asked for my daughter's birthdate, I literally had to pause for a second and say in my head “You are a father. You have a daughter. Her name is Amelia Simone Gibson. Her date of birth is October 31, 2009.”

Now, three months on, daddyness has become much more natural (though I'll admit to snapping awake once or twice on the couch at 4AM, and thinking “Where am I? I have a daughter? I have a daughter!”

You bet I have a daughter! I love her with every shred of my essence. But I think Sara and I are doing a good job of keeping our identities straight. We' are each ourselves first, husband and wife second, and mother and father third. We wouldn't have Amelia if we didn't have each other, and we wouldn't have each other if we weren't each comfortable in our own skin. Amelia is the pinnacle of our world, but the peak of the pyramid can't be held up unless its foundations are strong.

So yes, since Amelia was born, everything has changed, but nothing has changed. I'm still happy to be me, thrilled to be with Sara, so grateful to love and be loved by my mom, and honored to be a part of Sara's family.

It's just now, I have a tiny, perfect, adorable copilot to share adventures with!

Josh

Here's a bonus picture: It's Amelia doing her William Shatner imitation.  "Where.  Is.  My.  Milk?"

The new ordinary

[I'm a nitwit, it's my fault  that despite Sara's blog being written last Sunday, it's only being posted today.  --Josh]

  

It’s a rainy Sunday morning, and with Amelia gurgling in the background and with Meet the Press on the TV, it seemed like a good moment to offer just a glimpse of where we are. I have been reasonably quiet on the blog front in large part because life is simply chugging along. There have been many small moments that have fascinated me, like watching Amelia seem to discover her hands and actually interact with a toy. There have been a lot of moments that seem mostly ordinary and not quite worth writing about, like 4AM crying sessions and realizing that at least once, in the middle of the night, it had been 5 hours since Amelia had needed our attention. Mostly, we are happily still adjusting to our life with Amelia and I think we're all getting along pretty well.

The grand tour of introductions has continued and that has been a real joy. Amelia and I zoomed off to Indiana for a week while Josh kept the home fires burning in DC. She flew like a pro and I found traveling with her easier than expected. Even though the weather in Indiana was predictably unattractive and my mom was sick for part of our visit, it was so nice to spend time with my parents and introduce David and others to Amelia.

And like most things in life, just when you get the hang of one phase, life has moved on. It's now time for me to learn how to be a working mother. I went to work for one day last week, which was actually nice. Amelia was with Josh, my coworkers were beyond sweet, and Miriam's opened up our new Evening Program, which is really big for our organization. But it almost felt like a little diversion rather than a return to the real world. I had planned to return several other times that week, but Amelia's first [not serious, but still unnerving] illness changed plans and so I'm now using this week as transition. A flexible and understanding boss and husband have made this much easier, but I will say I am approaching this with the dread I had of labor. I wonder how it is that I am going to be up for feedings at 4 and 6AM and still able to fight through the inevitable 1PM fatigue. The reality is that most women I know have juggled this and so I know its possible, but I'm reasonably realistic about the difficulty of it all. My next goal is to make it to Valentine's Day with as much of my sanity intact as possible.

It is also time to return to the gym—something I am both loving and dreading. I can't wait to return to Zumba and I'm vowing to go to yoga, but I haven't yet done either. February 1^st is the deadline that I am setting for myself to get to the gym at least once.

So, no grand thoughts or visions, but life is still pretty good and parenthood is full of daily joy. I bumped into a friend at the blessed Harris Teeter yesterday. She had a baby at the end of November. With Amelia in her stroller zonked out in the dairy section, and her little boy strapped in a baby carrier also snoozing away, we exchanged updates and she said, "I can't believe how much fun it is" and I couldn't agree more.

Chugging along,

sPg