JUST DO IT

The sun is shining ever so brightly in my livingroom window as I write this. It makes my eyes squint a little but not enough to want to close the blinds just yet. Vincent sleeps peacefully in his crib and I can hear his near silent moans and sighs through the baby monitor. I think about catching up on the shows I have dvd'erd (that's a strange word, eh?), but the idea of the mind numbing activity already has me bored. I've been spending countless hours trying to organize Vincent's photo album. It is my goal to have a photo album for each year of his life. I go through large stacks of disorganized photos and look closely at the changes that can occur in a mere week of an infant's life. I count my blessings and try to not take a single moment of his life for granted. His changes are astonishing. His growth is mind blowing. I blink my eyes and he is smiling, I blink my eyes and he starts to laugh, I blink my eyes and he's sitting, rolling over, nearly crawling. He is one week away from his 6 month birthday. Can you believe it? I cannot.

The other day I wrote a letter to an old friend. I signed my name and tossed it in the mailbox. Suprisingly enough, I don't regret it. Yet. See, this old friend use to be a best friend, and then an enemy, and then an aquaintence. It has been a complicated, weird situation that I had many unresolved issues over. I got a lot of my chest - and at the risk of sounding corny, I feel as though I finally received the closure that I have desperately been seeking for years. A final goodbye. No blood bath. No war of the words. Just goodbye and good luck and best wishes. And then nothing more. I want to let go of bad vibes. I cannot afford to have them. If I want my young son to thrive in an happy environment, I cannot harbor ill will towards anyone. Nor do I want to. I want happiness to overwhelm me. Is that too much to ask? I want it all. Is that too much? I don't care. It's my new attainable goal. To be everything to everyone without exhasting myself. Sound like a big job? You're probably right. And I very well might fall on my face, but it'll all be worth it.

I will say "I love you" even more than I already do. I will kiss my baby even more than I already do. I will forgive when forgivness isn't asked of me. I will wipe my slate clean and soak in each tiny moment as if the sun won't be here tomorrow. Negativity only brings you down. Down in a hole where only misery loves company and it's a hard hole to climb out of. I will be placed firmly above ground, above water, but not above anyone. It feels good to know that I can start fresh each morning. I can look at my husband and tell him "thank you", I can call my mom and say "I owe you everything". I have every opportunity to make each day special. So do you. So do it.

Oh baby, baby, baby

Vincent is now a week past his four month birthday. Life gets better everyday. Seriously. It's no suprise to many folks that life in the Macri house was a struggle for awhile. Vincent was a very high needs, colicky baby, who wiped every ounce of energy from my body. Now, he's just like my perfect little angel. All the books kept saying that colic will end and that most colic babies turn out to be very happy, healthy babies. I questioned many of those books and I think even threw one across the room once! But they were so right. He wakes up in the morning and smiles at me, laughs with me, puts his little tiny arms around me and hugs me now. It's totally completed me. Hands down, the best thing I've ever done in my life is sleeping soundly in the other room, as I stare adoringly into the baby monitor screen in the livingroom.

This morning I woke up and was so amazed by how much he's changed. I could barely see the tiny newborn that I brought home in his face. He's like a completely different boy. So big! He is over 17 lbs and is ridiciously strong. He has started working on sitting (so far we've clocked 10 seconds!) and he is now able to stand holding onto the couch or coffee table and play with toys. I watch him learn things everyday. The little things that mean so much. Watching him learn to grab something with both his hands, or to watch him realize action and reaction. I am so blessed to be able to stay at home with him and watch each one of these little miracles. I don't want to miss a single second.

We've finally mastered a pretty good routine. For the first three months there was a lot of chaos. I didn't know what to expect each day. Now we have it down. We have nap time, play time, feeding time, our daily walk, our evening bath. It feels so good to have things under control. It just feels right.

Vincent is about to outgrow his co-sleeper and I am desperately afraid of what is coming next. I know it's almost time to put him in his own room, in his own crib, but it breaks my heart a little and I'm not sure if I'm ready. I love being able to sneak a peak at him in the middle of the night, or to pull him in bed and cuddle him if he needs it.

We started our mommy and me classes last week, so I think it will be positive for Vincent to be around other babies, especially the older ones so he can learn from them, watch them and mimick them. And it's nice to talk with other moms and gain more perspective of this crazy thing called motherhood.

I just wanted to give everyone an update on our little lives.

Life's rad.

I'm stoked.

Grateful Prisoner

This is me,
Drowning in a lake of fulfilled promises,
Embodied by the clever soul
Of a wise, old mother.
Fondly stroking the head of my infant son,
Singing lullabies in the darkness of the night.
The only light that shines glows from the candle I hold for him.
It's like I've loved him for a thousand years.
Magic little fingers, interlock with mine,
Giving hope to a hopeless world,
Making life a privilege.
Large eyes that follow my every movement,
Exhibiting the most purest of trusts
Convinces me that I am his world, as he is mine.
The best of me illuminates in all of him.
My boy.
My love.
I am a grateful prisoner,
Locked contently behind bars,
Bars made solely of love, purity, trust, honesty, and the future.
There is nowhere else I'd rather be.

Cha Cha Changes

For those of you who may have read my previous blog of pure desperation and hopelessness will be pleased to hear that things are looking up. Vincent is coming out of his colic period and has turned into the most adorable little boy EVER! Of course he cries still, but it's for a reason and I am quickly able to solve the problem, by a clean diaper, a little snack, or simply a nice warm hug from mommy. His evening bouts of screaming fits have turned into smiles, laughs and coos and finally some much needed bonding time with daddy in the evenings. Things are going so much better. Everyone that said it'll end, it'll end, it'll end...they were right. He is a perfect plump little boy who is now in the 95 percentile for his weight (over 14 pounds!) at only 11 weeks. And speaking of him being 11 weeks, that means by set return to work day would be next Wednesday, so I made my final decision to not return at this time. I look at my son's face and I become frantic just thinking about leaving him. And speaking of leaving him....that has become more difficult these days because he has decided he no longer wants to take a bottle. Who can blame him, right? But this limits any break I'd like to take to no more than two hours, if that.
I feel so close and so bonded to my baby. It is the most indescribable feeling. I look at him and still want to cry. He has already grown up so fast. Looking back at pictures of when he was first born, he doesn't even look like the same baby. In only 11 weeks he has completely transformed into a little boy, and not a newborn baby.
His sleep patterns have not changed too much. He still awakes often but I have mastered side lying breastfeeding which makes those midnight feedings so much easier (half asleep).
It's so funny how much life has changed. In such a short time. My life is hectic. I am tired. I am overworked and extremely underpaid (think $0.00). But I am in love. In a way I never thought possible. Being a mother to this precious little boy is the best job in the world. When he looks me in the eye and smiles ear to ear, that's it. I'm done. It's over. And it's only just begun.

O' Happy Days

A few days ago I arrived home from a trip up to see my sister and her baby Lucy up in Chester, CA. It's a town where there is one stoplight and an abundance of friendly faces. 10 hours in a car with my parents and my baby had me scared, but it worked out beautifully. Baby Vincent was a peach. Either slept or smiled at Pooh the entire time, only fussing at me to pull over and feed him.

I spent 8 days basking in 85 degree weather, laying in a hammock with my son, walking to Pine Shack to gobble a brownie sundae or drink a glass of lemonade, making delicious dinners, even running through the sprinklers at a nearby park. It was perfect. I cuddled and cooed with my niece, watch her grow in just 8 days. Listened to the babies laugh, and listened to the babies cry. Chatted with my sister who I knew I missed, but it became painstakingly clear just how much.
Days were spent reminiscent of a paperback English novel, complete with large straw hats, except the woman (me, my sister and my mom) tended to have a more colorful vocabulary.
I came back refreshed. But sad. I missed my sister, I missed Lucy. I longed to watch her grow day in and day out as I do Vincent. I missed having a house full of noise, yelling, laughing, cooking, one big family, all stuffed under one roof, driving each other crazy, bitching, smiling, loving each other tens times over.

My family is the dearest thing in my life. I am one of a lucky few.

The light is shining through...

I have found the light at the end of the tunnel.
This morning my beautiful son looked me straight in the eye and smiled at me for the first time. It felt as though my heart was going to explode. And through tear blurred eyes I got to see about 9 more smiles in a row!
He is the light at the end of the tunnel. He is so worth it.

Killing Me Loudly

I had one great fear during my pregnancy. It had nothing to do with giving birth. It was Colic. My worst fear has come alive and my strength is being put to the test every day.

I am a mother with a colicky baby.

I deserve a medal. Seriously. And so does every other parent who has gone through this.
The overwhelming joy I felt when my son was born has transformed into desperation, helplessness, frustration. The constant screaming and crying is taking it's toll on me. I've done it all. I've tried it all. I've done the vaccum, the shower, the dryer, the hair dryer, the swing, the bouncer, all the home remedies, the mint tea, the swaddling, the shhhing. My only solice is found in my baby sling. My days and evenings are spent walking the streets with him in his sling. Sometimes I go to the park with him and swing, and I cry right along with him.

I don't say this to be negative. I don't say this for pity. I say this because so many people don't. They fear that if they say this out loud it makes them a bad mother. I can't sugarcoat this. I can't pretend that life with a baby is wonderful and blissful. I love my baby more than anything in this world - but wonderful and blissful is the farthest from what my life is like right now. From sun up to sun down, when not feeding or sleeping, I hold my son and stare helplessly into his screaming, bright red, contorted face, wincing in pain, begging for some sort of relief, and there is nothing I can do. It makes my whole heart hurt.

This is the most trying time of my life. I know everyone says colic will eventually end but I am struggling. I cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel.