From Six Till Seven

From Six Till Seven:  Part One
I've woken up twice to my alarm clock in the past almost-a-year....two times when my sleep was pierced by an abstract beeping sound that made me flashback to another time in my life.  Other than that, the other 350 or so mornings, I've woken up to the squeaks and cries of Zoe's internal alarm clock, calling out for food at the earliest early hour, the latest late hour, the time when most people are in the midst of sleeping.

This time period is a little bit of a blur most mornings, half awake feedings and seeing if Z will let me fall back asleep before the beeping that tells me it is time to get out of bed rather than time to wake up.  And from a little before six until close to seven, I have my first daily hour of parenting.  In between pumping and eating the breakfast that Aaron amazingly makes each morning and packing up my laptop and making sure I have the bottles and pump pieces I need for the day (I've messed this up 3 times in the 9 months I've been doing it, which I think is pretty ok) and getting dressed, I play with my child.  I bring her into the bathroom while I'm doing my hair or washing my face and tell her what I'm doing...."I'm putting some concealer under my eyes, that makes me look less tired.  Now I'm putting on deodorant, you probably won't need this till you're 12, but I'll be on the lookout to let you know if it is earlier than that because I don't want them to have to tell you at school, that is totally embarrassing even though I pretend real hard that it isn't."

Z is all laughs and smiles in the morning, she sits in her little chair at the table while I eat and pump and offers us toys.  She wanders around the living room while I check the weather and check my work phone and call for substitutes if needed.  And when it comes time for me to put on my jacket, she suddenly clings to me.  And when I place her in her dad's arms and grab my bags to go...she cries.  Sometimes she just sniffles, sometimes she wails.  I can't bring myself to sneak out while she's distracted, so usually I make it worse, going back for kisses, finally making it out the door and realizing I've forgotten my phone and disrupting her all over again.

From Six Till Seven: Part Two

Barring any parent events or late night meetings, I am almost always home from work on the dot of six o'clock.  Whether I'm rushing out to the train at 5:30 or hanging on for a ride, six o'clock is pretty much guaranteed to be the switch from being responsible for the needs of 20 teachers and 300 children to being responsible for the needs of one lovely little baby.

I love making the switch.  I walk in the door to the best greeting in the world-- Aaron usually yelling, "Mommy's home" while Zoe freezes from wherever she is and laughs, and these days, waves.  (She's grown into this- it used to be immediate tears and demands for nursing, this is much improved.)  And then, for the next hour, I'm a parent again.  I put away the days bottles and my things, hug Zoe for as long as she'll let me (usually just one hug), and feed her dinner while Aaron makes ours, or play with her in the living room, and hear about the boring stuff that only I want to know-- what time were her naps today, how much did she eat and when, where did you guys go today.  Sometime close to 7 she gets sleepy, even though she has started to fight it and try to hide it from us, and so sometimes earlier or sometimes later but right around seven we start getting ready for bedtime.  We change into pajamas and read a story and cuddle if she'll let me.  By between 7:30 and 8 she is asleep and I'm on the couch, leaning over my laptop, or on a good day, watching bad tv.

I don't mean to imply that I'm not a parent in those 22 hours that are not between six and seven (and on the whole weekend and every vacation!!)  And I know that the mommy guilt I feel about squeezing a day into such short blocks of time is just for me-- kids are in day care and with nannies and with stay at home parents and all of these are completely valid options.  Zoe is with Aaron all day and incredibly well cared for and I have no reservations about how she spends her time.  In a world full of gender norms and high expectations for what it means to be a mother, however, what I can't seem to escape is my reservations about how I spend mine.

But, for now at least, from six till seven, is Zoe's time.

Digital

I was thinking the other day about how different it is for me to take pictures of my baby than it must have been when my parents took pictures of me.  Thinking about the idea of waiting to pick up the pictures from the drug store, having no idea how they turned out, and inevitably flipping through stacks of pictures to find the one where the right people were looking the right way with the right expressions on their face....a great pic must have been SO exciting!

Typically, for every picture that is a winner, I go through about ten attempts, maybe more. It starts with a vision-- Zoe's first experience with bubbles is so adorable, I'm going to get a perfect picture of her cute smile as the bubbles rain down. And so it begins......

The mouth suddenly opens....

The head abruptly turns....

And turns the other way.....

Kind of dazed and stunned-- as good as we're going to get!

Sometimes I keep trying like a crazy person, irritating the heck out of my baby and myself.  I won't even tell you how many times I attempted the video of her first steps before Aaron finally caught it last month- which seems pretty silly now that she is walking all over the place!  Other times I give up, and go ahead with what I get rather than my perfect vision.  Is that a metaphor for parenting?

Most of the trials don't make the transfer from camera to computer, but here are a couple of battle losing shots.  I picture my disappointment ripping open the little picture envelope at the drugstore and seeing sideways eyes and no smiles! I had promised that for Zoe's sake when she's grown I would only post pictures that put her cuteness in perspective, but I guess just this once....

The babies not quite getting the message to smile for the camera!

Trying for a cute shot with Nana!

What is WITH the tongue, girl???

I swear to you she looked right at me in between every shot this day!

My personal favorite:  Aaron making fun of her repeated refusal to look at the camera

Here Comes Trouble!

here we go...!!

Home and Holidays

 

We sure did not get enough pictures with family when we were home in Michigan for the week of Christmas and New Years.  We had a wonderful time showing off Zoe to all of her relatives, though she was a bit more shy than her Aunt Julie would have preferred! 

Some Advice

Here are a few little life lessons that Zoe doesn't quite understand yet-- I trust she will understand them later, but it will be a bit too late.

1.  You don't want to eat my shoe.  Seriously, it has New York City all over it.  Matter of fact, I probably shouldn't even bring them in my house, but you really don't want it in your mouth.

2.  Hurling your body head first off the couch or the bed is NOT the best way to show that you are ready to play on the floor.  Since so far your dad and I have caught you each time you've done this, I'm not sure the best way to teach you this lesson.  But I promise there are better ways.

3.  Even though we pretend otherwise, you are not really in a contest with us and you do not win anything if you drop or break our dishes.  The points we've said we give you are not real and we aren't tracking them.  So, really, you don't need to try so hard to get to every dish we set out.  (Although when you somehow grabbed my coffee cup and spilled the coffee without dropping the cup or getting coffee on either of us, you really did earn a triple score!).

4.  Putting everything in your mouth is not a good idea.  See number one, but also include electrical devices, mail, the playset at the playground, and most things you can reach in the bathroom.

5.  People don't walk around with their tongue hanging out.  It really does look weird.

6.  There are actually things in the world that are funnier than peek-a-boo.  I kid you not! (Although, to be perfectly honest, I can't quite think of any since you came around.  Peek-a-boo is a lot funnier than I realized...)

Santas

We did a little Santa tour today.  I wasn't planning to get Zoe's picture with Santa, but at the Dekalb Market I saw that there was a free "Santa-Box" where you could take your own- I had my camera, so it was perfect.  Santa was a young guy, of unable to be determined ethnicity, who spoke to the three-year-olds ahead of me in casual hipster slang  ("Come on in, little dude....").   Zoe was a fan- she sat on his lap with no problem.


Santa number two was down the street at Awedacity, a boutique near my house.  Here we were buying sale earrings while waiting for Santa to "arrive down the chimney" aka dressing room.  Everyone in the shop was directing all santa narration at Zoe, as if she were following it all.  An Eastern European photographer arrived right before Santa showed his face-- he was thrilled about "black santa" and said he had searched Manhattan, unable to find another black santa anywhere.  He took loads of pictures of Zoe waiting (while she was calm)-- I should have gotten his name.  Her calm shattered on Santa's lap-- their photographer was doing free prints, and he snapped one right before I did so we have a stone faced print, with these more emotional versions.

One of the reasons I love that we are raising Zoe in Brooklyn is that diversity will be such a normal part of her world...starting with her first Santa(s).

Just Sayin'

When I'm out and about with Zoe, people regularly stop me to say how cute my baby is.  But can I be honest with you?  Do you know what that makes me think?  What the heck is wrong with the ones who don't?  Seriously, do you not see this baby? She is flippin' adorable!