Monday, July 26, 2010

planning your life one email at a time

Oh Izz - Bless your heart, you have no idea yet what a planner your Mama is. I apologize in advance. You should know now, Sunday's are the worst. Once I've planned the week, I move on to planning the month and tonight I took on your life. Will you be a dancer? A gymnast? An artist, a writer? And that's just taking on the Arts. For your amusement, I submit to you an email I sent your Grandma tonight which is a perfect example of my ticking*:

So in addition to the stressful task of choosing schools for Izzy, we must also decide on her after school activities. She's been especially interested in ballet lately so I was considering enrolling her in dance classes as opposed to gymnastics. Already I have decided that one of the hardest things about being a mother is going to be that I cannot afford her the "very best", which is why I am excited to have finally picked a career path in the event she excels at something particularly expensive (as it appears dance might be). Anyway, here are the options. Look them over and let's discuss...

Ballet Austin. This is the best of the best. It's in a fancy building and they train professional dancers. They are also the troop that puts on The Nutcracker every year. Of course, upon finding this out I immediately had visions of Izzy one day being the Sugar Plum Fairy and the soccer mom in me started rising up (ie: "We MUST get her in these classes right away! We shall spare no expense!") However, like all things that create visions of grandeur, it ain't cheap. So maybe we can save this place for when she decides (at the ripe age of 6, of course) that she MUST be a "dancer". Regardless, here's the link (be sure and check out their upcoming performances):

http://www.balletaustin.org/index.php

Alisa's Dance Studio. This one is a little more affordable, yet still in West Lake (at least I'm not driving a Ford Focus anymore). It has good reviews and may be a good beginning.

http://www.alisasdanceacademy.com/elite.html

The YMCA. Providing the lower-middle class an opportunity to participate in extra-curricular activities since 1844 (true story!) For what we'd send Izzy to at the fancy places, we could afford a monthly family membership at the YMCA. However, they don't offer dance classes down South, we'd need to drive to the East Side. But then again, for Ballet Austin we'd be driving downtown and for Alisa's we'd be driving to West Lake. Luckily for all of us I'm an East Side kinda gal. On the upside, Chris and I could start working out ensuring that we will live long enough to pay off the debts incurred by Izzy's extracurricular activities.

http://www.austinymca.org/

Look over all the options and let me know what you think. And then of course there is the Wilderness Group, Krav Maga, Karate, Theatre Arts, Swimming, Softball, Soccer - how in the world are we going to have enough time (and money!!) to expose her to everything to make absolutely certain that she is well-rounded AND able to choose a career path by the time she is 13? Parenting involves so much PRESSURE! (I say all of this only half joking.)

Love you (and glad you only committed me to dance),
your over-planner of a daughter


* Ticking: A term I borrowed when I start obsessing about something in particular. It could be cleaning (to take that further I could start "ticking" about cleaning a closet, the garage or the chimney), or most especially planning. I like to plan. My life, your Dad's life, complete stranger's lives - I am a planner.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

on becoming your mom

Hey Izz,

I've always been pretty open with friends and family about my "bad" mothering. It goes in line with my regular formula of self-deprecation, humor and honesty, but I do feel the need to elaborate a little to you in the event things get nuts as you grow older and I suddenly lose my fantastic ability to communicate. So here I go, for the record:

I wanted you from the moment of conception. In fact, I wanted you long before that. I grew up wanting to be a mother. I never had many dreams of careers, success or money - but I did always dream about being a mom. From the moment your father and I met I was clear that I wanted kids. In fact, I wanted them right away. He wasn't ready and it took him about 7 years to get there. But eventually he got on board and we decided to try for you. As I would later learn about you - you took awhile. In fact, after several months of trying to conceive I gave up on the idea and decided to go to Europe. The following month I found out I was pregnant with you.

To say I was overjoyed doesn't begin to describe it. I was excited, nervous and scared - but most of all excited. Finally you were coming. We had a few scares along the way, but after 9 months of anticipation you were finally born. And then the dream became a reality. Once you were born I had no idea what to do with you. I was terrified and awkward. I'd always wondered what kind of father your dad would be - but suddenly he was the natural and I was... not.

The first night in the hospital it was just me and you. You cried most of the night, I cried, I wondered if I could give you back, I realized I had made a terrible mistake and I was going to be a terrible mother. Those feelings continued for the next 9 months. I later realized much of that was post-partum depression. Also, like any dream becoming a reality, it wasn't quite as blissful as I pictured. After about 9 months I started to be able to breathe. The anxiety started to abate and I started to get the hang of mothering. Yet still I felt disconnected from you and it scared me beyond explanation. I absolutely loved you, with that there was no doubt, but I didn't feel the connection I had always heard about. As I tell it to my friends, the skies didn't open and the angels didn't sing.

As you started to grow and your personality started to shine I felt more and more connected. The day you took your first steps (Super Tuesday!) was one of the happiest moments of our lives. The day you first ate spaghetti and smeared it all over your face while laughing was wonderful. And day by day I felt closer to you and more in love. One day, when you were about 15 months old we laid down together for a nap (as we usually did as it would ensure you would actually fall asleep). I remember you turning to me and smiling, and at that moment I felt the love, connection and adoration I had been expecting. At that moment the skies opened and the angels sang. My heart was filled with more love than I had ever experienced.

But as always happens, reality once again returned. There have been moments in motherhood that I should be embarrassed to admit (if I were ever embarrassed by things). There have been moments when I have yelled at you much louder and meaner than is right by a mother. There have been moments when I have grabbed you by the arm and later prayed there were no bruises. There have been moments when I have lost my temper to a point that I swore as a small child I NEVER would. There have been moments when I have had to walk away to prevent myself from hurting you. And every single one of those moments terrified me and broke my heart because it is not the kind of mother I want to be to you. I want to be the absolute best of my ability because you deserve absolutely nothing less.

But it takes work. It takes going to bed and swearing that I will be better. It takes praying to God that I become calmer, more patient, more understanding and more gentle. It takes waking up in the morning and being determined to smile at 7am and chat as much as you like. And slowly, I have improved as a mother. Nothing brings me more enjoyment than lying in bed with you before naptime/bedtime and softly chatting with you. My heart sings when you come sit in my lap and ask question after question trying to figure out a concept. I swell with pride when you learn a new task or show off one of your many charming skills. I am not, nor will I ever be, perfect. But I need you to know that I will always try to be better. I will always work to be the best mother in the world to you. I will always be open to your criticisms and try to adjust to your needs. And while it took a while to come - I love you (and will ALWAYS love you) more than anything or anyone else in this world.