Guest Post: by Kate

I had the pleasure of 'meeting' Kate via my lovely sister-in-law, Mary which is why I heart the internet and blogs and the internet again. 

 Kate teaches college writing at Loyola Marymount University and is aspiring to be a stay at home mom. She's originally from TX but currently lives in LA with her husband and her baby boy. She likes putting salt on brownies and hang-drying laundry while the sun shines. She is a VERY talented wordsmith and I love reading her blog. I was SO thrilled when she kindly agreed to write a superb guest post...enjoy!!

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Hi! I’m Kate here to guest post while Grace tends to her young.

In honor of list-loving Grace, I give you:

THE FIVE (notsocute) STAGES OF (my) EARLY MOTHERHOOD

(alternate title: one mother of one five month old talks for awhile like she has a clue)

Stage #1 Indifference

Maybe I should have entitled #1 as follows: Baby is out. Momma is utterly exhausted, her tailbone is broken, and she’s wondering where all the post-natural-birth euphoria is?

When Jake was born, after the skin to skin time I had so vehemently insisted on in my birth plan, he went over to the heat lamp, and splayed out like it wasn’t such a bad swap for amniotic fluid. Honestly, as he blissfully turned his scrunched little face toward that warm light, I could just hear him thinking: Are you my mother?
This stage lasted about six hours and a nap.

Stage #2 Fear

Jake was born at 11 at night. The next morning I remember holding him and feeling downright petrified. Even angry. How could I have been this stupid? I brought this thing into the world...now what if...something happened to it?  I was afraid to hold him and afraid not to hold him. I was afraid to take my eyes off of him and more afraid of how I felt when I looked at him.

This stage lasted for about two weeks. Or until baby’d been around long enough that he seemed like he wasn’t going anywhere.

Stage #3 Intimidation

This is the part where I began to wonder about all of those “oh you’ll just know” instincts that weren’t kicking in like everybody said they would. The part where I started wondering why every moment wasn’t blissful. The part where I couldn’t tell the “I’m wet” cry from the “I’m hungry” cry from the “I wish dad was holding me” cry. At this point as I rocked my colicky baby, I realized there was no going back...even if I wasn’t any good at this.

I like to be good at things. I’m pretty obsessed with it actually. And I feel like I am generally good at things. This is because when I’m bad at something I just don’t do it. You will rarely if ever see me playing tennis or throwing a frisbee or bowling. I only do these things when my husband asks me too, and he only asks me when he needs to laugh.

You see, unlike frisbees and bowling balls, your children...on second thought I don’t think I really need to finish that sentence.

Stage #4 Impatience
This was the worst. I found myself saying “I can’t wait” a hundred times a day.

It all started out very innocent:

I can’t wait till baby can look at me.

I can’t wait till baby can smile.

I can’t wait till baby can giggle.

Then it started getting both selfish and slippery slope-ish:

I can’t wait till baby can sleep six hours straight.

I can’t wait till baby can hold a toy.

I can’t wait till baby can sit up, walk, stay entranced by colorful lights on a screen, talk, make up absurdly funny stories, go to kindergarten.

This stage lasted until I woke up and realized Jake weighed seventeen pounds.

Stage #5 Dissatisfaction

This stage has crept up on me slowly and isn’t really letting go. This one just seems to be getting worse. I feel it most when I catch glimpses of my new family in a window as we walk down the street or in a mirror above a mantel. Because you see, even though it is 50% bigger than it was, oh, five short months ago, I can’t help but think: this family is entirely too small.

Thanks to Grace for hosting me, and huzzah for the new camper!

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...and if you want more where that came from...three of my faves from Kate

birth story {1} {2}

read it to believe it