It wasn’t easy. Wednesday morning, after she was finished eating, I held on to her for just a few moments more. She had fallen asleep, and knowing I would be late if I didn’t leave soon, I reluctantly placed her back in her crib and closed her door. Downstairs, I hugged Lee for a little while, then dragged myself out the front door, got in the car, and drove to work.
It felt surreal to sit at my desk and log on to my computer. Occasionally I’d look at the door, where my coworkers had hung a banner announcing Camille’s birth. I put a framed photo of her on my desk and looked at it often. As people walked by, they stopped to say hello and welcome me back. If they asked for pictures, I proudly pulled out the album I brought with me. But the whole time, I felt like there was a huge rock in my stomach.
My first day back was pretty busy. I had a big meeting at 8:30, followed by another one at noon where I had to give a presentation. Then I came back to the office and began fielding media calls. I had 1,002 emails to deal with. But I was glad for all the work, because it made the day go by faster.
Lee never had a chance to call me, because I was dialing his number nearly every half hour. I wasn’t calling because I was worried about them – he’s so good with her. I was calling because I wanted to feel connected. I wanted to know what they were up to so I could carry the picture in my mind.
Lee helped by sending me actual pictures. He sent this one so I could make it my desktop background:
When I left, Camille was still in her pajamas, so he sent me this one so I could see what she was wearing that day:
The pictures meant so much to me. So did the orchids he sent, which are blooming beautifully and warm my heart every time I look at them.
When I left the office for home at the end of the day, my heart was racing. It took every ounce of my willpower to slow down through the school zones, because I wanted to fly all the way.
I walked into the house, and Camille was sleeping in her Daddy’s arms. I sat next to them and gave her Daddy a kiss. When I said hello to Cami, her eyes fluttered open and she looked over at me. Hoping for a smile, I pulled the pacifier from her mouth. She frowned. A really big frown. Then she started to cry, so I put it back.
But I wasn’t upset. Instead, I felt like it was proof that she was surviving just fine without mom hovering over her every second. I don’t think she was unhappy to see me, but she just wanted to return to her nice nap which she had been enjoying before I got home.
That night, we had overnight company. When I took breaks from entertaining to go feed her, I selfishly dragged out the feeding sessions. Our guest didn’t know she usually eats in 20 minutes! So I tacked on an extra 10 minutes of cuddle time. As I held her in the rocking chair, I’d rest my head directly on top of hers – as if by osmosis I could absorb some of her sweetness and she could absorb some of my love.
Leaving on the second day was not easy, but it wasn’t as horrible either. Lee sent me this picture to keep me connected:
And I got this one on Friday:
I was so excited when I left the office Friday. We have a 3 day weekend and no big plans. We’re just spending time together as a family, which I treasure even more after being away at work. Of course, Cami was dressed to cheer for the Bulldogs tonight:
She tried, but she couldn’t stay up for the game. Right now, she’s sleeping soundly upstairs while we do the cheering for her. Tomorrow, more quality Cami time. I can’t wait.
Hello sweet Cams. I just tucked you into bed, though from the sounds coming from the monitor I don’t think you’re asleep yet. It appears you have the hiccups and they’re keeping you awake. You’ll probably be snoozing soon though.
Cami, this is a very hard week for your mom. Wednesday, I have to go back to work. That’s why I cried all over you earlier today, and I’ll probably do it again tomorrow. I’m finding it hard to explain how I feel. I feel like something really special is almost over. I keep telling myself all this anguish is silly because I’ll still see you every morning, many days at lunch, and evenings and weekends. But today when I walked over to your pack-n-play to give you a kiss while you hung out watching your mobile, I reminded myself again that I won’t be able to do that while I’m at work. I won’t be able to just scoop you up and play with you any old time. I completely lost it when I did the math and realized you’ll spend more waking hours away from me than with me – then I reminded myself to factor in your naps, and I felt a little better.
I am terrified that when I go back to work you will feel abandoned. Since your birth, I’ve only been away from you for a couple of hours at a time. Suddenly, I’ll be gone for a big chunk of the day nearly every day. There’s no way for me to explain to you that I still love you just as much and you’re every bit as important to me as always. But at the same time, there’s another part of me that’s afraid you won’t miss me after all. I feel guilty for going back to work, but I do enjoy my job and I know I’ll also feel a little guilty for liking it at times too. I don’t know if I’d want to be a stay-at-home mom forever, but I’m not ready to leave you yet. I’m also afraid I won’t be as good at my job because I’ll be thinking about you and rushing home at 5:00 instead of staying late to finish a project. But most of all, I want to be good at my most important job – being your mom.
So as you can see, my sweet girl, I’m a mixed up mess. I know everything will be okay. I know you’ll do just fine and I’ll eventually get used to our new routine. But I’ve so enjoyed getting to nibble on your toes whenever I please, and I’m going to miss that.
You’re the baby – the tiny, totally dependent baby who couldn’t survive without love and care. But I feel like I’m the one clinging to the umbilical cord. I’m the one who will be gasping for breath when it’s cut. Yes, you need me, but I need to be near you too.
I find great comfort in 2 things. Although we’ll have to be apart during the day, you’ll be with your Daddy. I am so proud of your Daddy for wanting to take care of you. It won’t be easy as he tries to run his own business and be a stay-at-home Daddy, but I don’t doubt for one second that he’ll do a great job. One day, you’ll have to go to daycare, and that’s okay. It’ll be good for you to socialize with other children. But at least for now, while you’re still so little, you get to spend your days in your house with a Daddy who loves you so much. Whether it works for a few months or a year, I think it’ll be time well spent as you bond with your dad. This makes me quite the lucky mama.
Earlier today, you were hanging out with him at his computer, and you sent me this email:
\p[vgxgdgmhjjkn;lghjvc poyehk
‘
Your Daddy says you typed it with your feet. Your Daddy is funny. What would I do without him?
The other thing that brings me comfort is knowing that other mothers – women I believe to be terrific mothers – have returned to work and still have wonderful children and strong bonds. I’m not the first mom to feel this way, and I won’t be the last.
I’m trying to enjoy our last days together before I go back to work, and I am. Today we played, and you slept for a while in my arms, and I got loads of smiles. Tomorrow, I hope for more of the same. Then Wednesday, I’ll have to go to work, but I’ll have my arms full of picture frames with photos of your adorable face inside. That’ll make my office a whole lote nicer.
I love you sweet Camibear.
It’s game day, which means Cami is all decked out in her red and black. Grammy made her some supercool pom poms, and every time I watch this video my heart melts a little more. She’s so cute!
It’s 9 p.m. I imagine there are many parents struggling to get their children to go to bed right now. Oh how they wish their children would willingly observe a decent bedtime.
For the past 2 days, I’ve had the opposite problem. My sweet slumberer wants to go to bed far too early.
I had instituted a bedtime of about 8:30, and she was cooperating well. But yesterday, around 6:30, she started getting fussy. Soon, her fussiness turned to wails. She ate, but even after a full meal the cries continued. Finally, around 7:30, I took her upstairs to her room to put her to bed because I didn’t know what else to do.
As soon as we entered the darkened room and I started putting on her pajamas, she calmed down. I had barely begun to rock her when she fell asleep. She awoke once briefly, but quieted right down and slept soundly for almost 8 hours. She woke up to eat at about 3:30, then slept again until 7:30 this morning.
Tonight, she started getting fussy around 6. Again, she ate well but then continued to scream. These are the kind of screams that turn her whole body rigid and her face bright red. So just after 7, when nothing else worked, I took her upstairs to her nursery. Once the pajamas went on, the crying stopped. She was quickly rocked to sleep, and it’s now 2 hours later and I haven’t heard a peep from her.
If she’d had it her way, the past 2 nights she would’ve gone to bed at about 6:30.
That’s far too early, but my concerns are selfish. I go back to work next week (huge sigh here). I was already devastated to think that I’d only get to spend time with her from 5:30 p.m. to 8:30 p.m. most days. So the thought of a 6:30 bedtime is heart-wrenching.
I know I should just be grateful that she sleeps so well, and I am. But I’m having a hard time coping with the impending separation, and I just want to maximize all of the time we can have together. My mom reminded me that just because she does something 2 nights in a row does not mean it is her new routine. Next week she could decide that 2 a.m. is her real bedtime, and I’ll have a different problem on my hands. But for now, I can’t apologize for wanting to have her near me just a bit longer.
Lee and I are going to work on trying to get her to take better naps during the day. Once I go back to work, that’ll help Lee have a few solid hours to work. And maybe it’ll help her stay awake and happy a little later so I can have some more quality Cami time.
Hello sweet Camibear! I’m listening to you on the baby monitor as you try to go to sleep, but those hiccups are getting on your nerves. You were pretty sleepy tonight though, because you had such a big day!
This morning was your church dedication, and it was a very special morning. The pastor introduced you to the whole church, and your Daddy and I stood in front of everyone and made some important promises. We promised to love you, to create a good home for you, and teach you about our faith.
Through the years, I’ve watched other parents dedicate their children, and I’ve often thought about how wonderful it would be for your Daddy and me to do that one day. It was even better than I imagined. I was so proud of you as we walked down the aisle this morning, with Daddy carrying you in his arms. We dressed you in a beautiful pink dress with adorable little shoes, and you looked like an angel.
Everyone hopes their child will behave during a moment like this, and while we would’ve been proud even if you cried, we had no reason to worry. You were awake and content, and even cooed sweetly while the pastor spoke. Your Daddy handed you to Dr. Finley, who walked up and down the aisle with you so everyone could get a good look and you could meet your church family.
You seemed perfectly at peace, all bright-eyed and content as you surveyed the congregation. Dr. Finley handed you to me when he arrived back at the altar, and your Granddaddy came forward to offer a prayer. It was a very special prayer, full of thanks for you and all the joy and sweetness you bring to our lives.
This afternoon, your Nana, Granddaddy and Grammy all had to leave, and we were sad to see them go. But I’m so glad they were here for your special morning – our special morning. I love you sweet Cams, and I thank God often for you.
This morning, like most mornings, I stared blanky into my closet as a feeling of frustration crept in. A thousand garments on hangers, yet nothing to wear. Nothing fits. I’m in some strange post-partum fashion purgatory where the maternity clothes are too big (and I’m tired of them anyway), but my regular clothes don’t fit either. I don’t want to buy new clothes because I want my old clothes to magically fit. Tomorrow.
But today, there was a new desperation in my search for an oufit. Camille had an appointment with her pediatrician this afternoon. The last time we were at her office was 7 weeks ago for Cami’s 2 week check-up. I remember sitting in the waiting room when another couple walked in with their infant. The baby was tiny and probably the same age as Camille, but the mother waltzed in with her skinny black party pants and pressed white button-down shirt, dangly earrings and well-styled hair. I was dressed in shorts, an oversized shirt, with a ponytail. I had congratulated myself on the way to the office for having managed to shower and put on clean clothes and still make it to the appointment on time with a 2 week old. But this woman was making me look bad.
So I started thinking terrible things about her and her dangly earrings. One day her child was going to rip them from her ears. And look – they left their darling baby in the infant seat the whole time instead of cuddling her like we were doing with Camille. When she started to fuss, the dad rocked the infant seat back and forth so violently I was concerned for the baby’s well-being. We were clearly superior parents.
Then another mom came in, followed by 3 little girls. She was sporting a pair of tight jeans, and wearing a tank top completely covered in beads that swished and shimmered when she moved. She looked like she was dressed for a night out clubbing instead of a doctor’s appointment. I watched her for a little while, sure I would witness some action that would prove her moral inferiority.
Finally, I realized neither mom deserved my ire or judgement. The first baby seemed quite content in her infant seat, and the three little girls were well-behaved and showed no signs of neglect. But it made me wonder if I had violated some untold doctor’s office dress code. When I pointed the women out to Lee (I’m sure he hadn’t noticed what they were wearing…), he whispered, “Next time, you’re going to have to step it up.”
So as I stared into my closet this morning, I reached for a new top I recently purchased. It has sequins. But I put it back.
The gloomy feeling in the pit of my stomach was about much more than clothes. I’d been facing this doctor’s appointment with a mixture of dread and desire. After 7 weeks of no new information, I’d finally find out what Camille weighed and if she was growing properly. As her sole source of nutrition, I take this very seriously.
But I was dreading this appointment because she was due for FOUR shots. I hate shots. I despise shots. I cried when I got my shots for college. Pregnancy made me more tolerant of needles – you can only get stuck so many times before it takes too much energy to get worked up every time. But now, I had to watch my precious, innocent, unsuspecting child get poked with needles. FOUR of them.
That’s why I put the sequined top back, and reached for the cotton one. When Cami was crying, when the shots were finally all over, I wanted to pull her close and not worry about whether she would inhale a bead or cut her eye on a sequin. I wanted her mommy to feel warm and soft.
I worried unnecessarily. She squealed when she got the first shot and my heart lurched, and she was still crying for shot #2 but not as loudly. She was actually pretty quiet for the third one. She cried again for the 4th because the medicine burned (the nurse warned us about that one), but she settled down again quickly. I held her close, although she really seemed much less upset about the whole procedure than I expected. I was holding her close as much for me as for her.
And I got good news. Her weight is right on target. When she was 2 weeks old, she was in the 5th percentile (I’m glad I didn’t know that at the time, although her doc says it was still okay), but now she’s in the 50th. And looking back, I don’t remember what any of the moms were wearing this time. Cami is healthy and growing well, and that’s way more important than wardrobe.
I believe music is good for babies, so I often turn on the stereo when we’re hanging out in Cami’s room. One of my favorite CDs is a compilation of 30 lullabies. Several are well-known, many others are new to me. But recently, as I listened more closely to the lyrics, I was shocked at what I heard. These lullabies may be contributing to the degredation of society by corrupting our children with their innocent-sounding tunes which mask the disturbing lyrical content.
For example, the second track on the CD is a lullaby called, “Billy Boy.” It begins like this:
Oh where have you been Billy Boy, Billy Boy/ Oh where have you been, charming Billy?/ I have been to seek a wife/ She’s the idol of my life/ She’s a young thing and cannot leave her mother.
Wait a minute! How young is this young thing? What kind of song is this anyway? For all I know, Billy Boy is some craddle-robbing pedophile. The song goes on for several verses, each ending with the disturbing phrase, “She’s a young thing and cannot leave her mother.”
Finally, on the last verse the song asks the question we’ve all been wondering, “How old may she be, Billy Boy, Billy Boy?”
The reply is an evasive “Three times six and four times seven/ Twenty eight and eleven/ She’s a young thing and cannot leave her mother.”
The very next song is about an owl and a pussycat who are in love and get married, and the owl likes to call the cat a shortened version of pussycat that is too explicit for me to write here. Enough said.
The CD includes Rock A Bye, which is a very well-known song. But if I were a child, I think the song would scare me to death. The lyrics practically tell the child, “try to close your eyes and take a nap, but realize that at the moment you do, your cradle is going to plummet to earth and you’re sure to be injured in the fall.”
And what am I teaching Cami when I sing “Hush Little Baby,” to her? It’s a song all about consumerism. I’m teaching her that if she’ll stop crying, I’ll buy her all sorts of things. And if each thing doesn’t please her, I’ll buy her something else. And the things the song suggests I’ll buy are ridiculous and I’m sure they don’t meet Consumer Product Safety Commission safety standards! They are:
Hush little baby don’t say a word, Mama’s going to buy you:
a mocking bird
a diamond ring
a looking glass
a billy goat (just what any baby needs)
a cart and bull
a dog named Rover
a horse and cart
The thing is – despite my concern about the lyrics, these songs are perpetually stuck in my head. That’s how they get you. The catchy hooks make it easier for the subliminal messages to seep through. Sneaky. Very sneaky.
Hello sweet Camibear! This time two months ago, you were only an hour and a half old. On one hand, I can’t believe you are already 2 months old. On the other hand, it feels like you’ve been part of our family for a long time.
I didn’t think it was possible, but you get cuter every day. We went to the mall today, and while you seemed to enjoy being in the stroller, I wanted to snatch you up and carry you everywhere so I could nibble on you. I did for a little while when you got kind of fussy. I didn’t care if people wondered why I was pushing an empty stroller with you in my arms. I liked being as near to you as possible.
People probably stare at me a lot. When we were strolling through the mall, I kept talking to you, pointing out things of interest and asking you questions like, “Why does the Hallmark store sell Crocs?” In your wise way, you didn’t answer. You knew there was no acceptable answer.
In the last week or so, more of your personality has started to emerge. You’ve begun talking, and I LOVE it! Every time you talk, I practically start dancing around you, making crazy faces and even crazier noises trying to encourage you to keep cooing. And sometimes you reward me with one of those magical smiles. I’d stand on my head for hours if I thought it would make you smile.
You’ve finally been getting some religion this month, and you’re not sure what you think of it. A week and a half ago, we took you to our church for the first time.
You were asleep when we arrived, but as soon as the music started you began waking up. You thought the organ was much too loud, and your Daddy had to hold you and continually pat your arm through the entire service. But you didn’t make a peep, and when it was over, crowds of people gathered around to see you and oooh and aaaah.
You were in church again last Sunday, but this time you were in Granddaddy’s church. We went to Tennessee to visit – your first really long trip. You were great in the car for the first several hours, but pretty unhappy the last 2 or so. I don’t blame you. That’s a long time for a little baby to sit strapped in to her carseat. But once we got to Granddaddy and Nana’s house, you were WONDERFUL! In fact, that’s the first time you really seemed to start babbling a lot.
We brought your Gymini, and I’m so glad because playing on it was your second favorite thing to do (behind eating). You love looking at yourself in the mirror and kicking furiously at the animals hanging from the overhead bars. I sometimes crawl behind you on the playmat and we peek at each in the mirror. That’s when your Daddy took this picture, and it’s one of my favorites ever.
We took another of my favorite pictures this weekend. Nana and Granddaddy just finished an upstairs bonus room for you – it’ll be your playroom when you’re a little older. Some of my childhood toys are in there, including several of my Cabbage Patch Dolls. I adored those dolls, and had nearly a dozen. Nana lined some of them up on the bed, and we sat you in the middle of them. Too cute!!! Can you find the sweetest doll?
Look closer. You are way cuter than any of those dolls!
Your Granddaddy thinks you’re the cutest too. When we went to church Sunday, he took you up to the front of the sanctuary and showed you off to the congregation.
You snoozed peacefully through the whole thing, but again, you thought the pipe organ was a bit much. Nana fixed that by covering your ears during every song. You were appreciative. I think you enjoyed your weekend and all the attention you got. This is pretty much how it was the whole time:
Cami, you take my breath away. You are such a sweet baby, and you’ve made our lives so much richer over these past 2 months. You are loved, little girl.
What kind of parents would we be if we didn’t pass our Bulldog passion down to our child? Camille has enjoyed both game days of this football season so far by dressing in her Georgia finest. I was delighted that we got several UGA outfits – all very different in style AND size, so she’ll have something sassy to wear all year.
Saturday afternoon, Cami was resting so she’d be ready for the big game against USC:
Here’s a pic of her yelling the kick-off chant, “Goooooo Dawgs!”:
She was shocked when Tereshinski left early in the game with an injury:
But here’s a pic of her mid-cheer as the dawgs went on to hand Spurrier his first shut-out in decades:
A cuter UGA cheerleader has never existed.
I’m sad. No, I didn’t lose a friend or a family member. Steve Irwin’s death won’t affect my day-to-day life. But I’m still sad because someone I deeply admired and respected has died.
The first time I saw the Crocodile Hunter shows, I thought he was nuts. That’s why I watched, to see what crazy thing he’d do next. But as I continued watching, my opinion changed. It was clear to me he wasn’t performing a stunt for the camera. He was interacting with the animals he loved in an effort to teach the world to love them too. It’s easy to convince us to love cute and fluffy animals, but Steve took on a greater challenge, hoping to convince us to at least respect the animals we usually fear. He didn’t do it to get a ratings point – he did it because he was truly passionate about wildlife conservation. I’m sure there are those who would say he “got what was coming” because he took so many risks. But I know I learned a lot watching his shows, and I believe that’s why he did the things he did. Not just for an adrenaline rush, but for something much nobler.
And his shows also revealed another side of him. The family side. There was a whole episode dedicated to how he met and fell in love with his wife, Terry. Another episode detailed the arrival of his first child. He seemed like a very caring husband and father, and a lot of fun too. I can’t imagine how hard his loss must be for them. The youngest child will mostly remember his father through his documentaries and videos.
While I’m glad we at least have those documentaries, I’m still sad because I believe, had he survived, he would have continued being a fantastic teacher for so many more years.
