Then and Now

There was a time when weekend nights were for parties and socializing, usually with a good bit of beer involved. My, how times have changed.

Parenthood changes your life in subtle ways, and not so subtle ways. An example of a subtle change is how you wouldn't even think of having a third drink (too much alcohol=can't nurse baby=have to pump and dump=dehydration=low milk production the next day). A not so subtle change is the fact that we are ALWAYS home by 6:30 pm. Every, single day. This is because Gillian's etched-in-granite bedtime is 7 pm. "Why?," you ask?? Because an overtired infant is the worst kind of screaming, inconsolable misery you might ever encounter. Babies who are overtired usually scream themselves to sleep (taking every ounce of your willpower not to go pick them up and try to soothe them-then you learn they will scream whether or not you're holding them, and your presence might just keep them awake). In general, you learn that having a child requires a great deal of planning, particularly if you are going to leave your house. You would be amazed at the forethought that goes into taking your baby for a walk, for example. You also have to be calculated about your evenings if you do decide to go out and be social (which, Thanks to Sean, I have done a few times). You realize it's not worth it to be out too late and miss sleep or drink too much, or do anything that might jeopardize being in top shape tomorrow. Because the baby will still be there tomorrow, and will still be completely dependent on you. You learn that it's just not worth it to stay out too late. In my experience, a good rule of thumb is to be home by 10. It keeps you out of trouble.

So, do we miss the freedom of just picking up and going if someone called us at 5 pm on Friday and invited us to game night at their place and a few episodes of the muppets afterward? Or seeing a good band play till very late after an indulgent dinner at some place we just felt like trying? Sure. But, those scenarios are no longer options (till babysitting is an option, anyway). But more importantly, we don't care about doing those things as much as we use to. Somehow we have changed. Needless to say, we are DAYTIMERS now. We do brunch out with friends instead of dinner. We know we've got about an hour to sit at a table before G starts her meltdown. To be fair she DID do remarkably well watching Sean's friends playing on St. Patrick's Day in a pub for, are you ready for this??, 2.5 HOURS before the meltdown!(her long attention span where music is involved makes me hopeful for some kind of Partridge Family).

Is she worth not hanging out at smokey bars till 2 am? Or picking and choosing our travelling (or not travelling at all, as we have done since she was born 6 months ago? (this is remarkable if you know me))? Or having less time for our alone time, hobbies, and moments that ground one's sense of self? Or not even being able to go to the movies? Is she worth it??-YES. Having a child is the most important thing I have ever done. Much more so than the hurt, challenges, and triumphs of my youth that made me who I am, and that I once wore with pride like battle scars. Much more so than the things that now seem so surficial and mundane-like my degrees (which really helped to define me). I grew another human being inside my body. Now I am feeding her with my body-all her nourishment comes from me. She is BECOMING right in front of us. She has a soul, and she is perceiving every second, completely present-with a mindfulness mentality a theravada buddhist would be proud of. She is always processing and putting things together. She is building a worldview, and I have the priviledge of a front row seat. Folks, that is amazing. Blow-your-mind-if-you-think-about-it-too-much amazing. I am so grateful for this blessing that I didn't have to be given. I have those "God gave you to me??" moments every day...awe, wonder, and joy, all bundled together. So many things could have kept her from us; so many truly frightening moments in the beginning. But here she is-a miracle. She is perfect. And she's ours.