Monday, April 11, 2011

Z is for Zipper

So I decided to try this post the alphabet thingy (ya I'm a follower) but being me (it's a weird place, but I'm good with it) I decided to go backwards.  So starting with Z....and then I realized that Z might not be the easiest word to blog. 

I could go with zebra...but what do you write about a zebra?  It's like a stripey horse with a bad attitude and a weird tail.  Then I thought maybe I could write about the zephyr...but its pouring down rain here so I'm not in that kind of mood.  Zimbabwe...never been there. Zircon...too cheap.  And then I remembered something that happened back when the Tuckerling was a baby, and involved a zipper!  Oh happy day!  A relevant Z word!

Back then I was a brand new Mommy.  I had had a lot of experience with other peoples children, but this was MY new bundle of joy.  Oh sure it leaked from every orifice, made more poop than my fathers cows on a daily basis, made loud noises without any discernible way to make it stop, and demanded feedings until my boobs bled, but I loved this little mite with all my heart and soul.  I have PCOS (Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome) so getting my own child was a long dreamed of miracle. I wanted everything for my little precious bundle to be absolutely perfect!  I had read all the books on parenting my budget allowed me to buy.  I had taken two 12 week parenting classes.  We had a timer, a schedule, a chart showing diapers and what was in them, lists of appropriate wake time activities, and enough plans to choke a mule.

I have to pause here and comment that I still have all of those charts, and they even show which breast I used to nurse him every time.  Even more funny is that we (my ex-hubby and I) thought we were perfectly normal, but that's another blog altogether.  OK back to zippers.

After having my little son some weeks the new and shiny had begun to wear off.  Weeks of sleepless nights and untold stress from trying to keep everything perfect had dulled my senses to about the same as those of a life long drug addict.  One day after changing the fifteenth poopy diaper that hour (only a slight exaggeration I assure you) I went to zip up Tuckers little blue sleeper and he started shrieking.  I instantly began checking him all over and found that I had zipped a piece of his tummy skin into the zipper!  Oh the horror!  I had damaged his perfect little belly!!  He didn't even bleed, and only cried a few minutes, but I was horrified and devastated.  Would my precious still love me?  Would he be traumatized forever and unable to wear anything with a zipper for the rest of his life?  Would he ever trust me again, and more importantly would I ever trust myself?

With the benefit of hindsight (and regular sleep!) I can see how silly all of that was.  Tucker ate, didn't sleep, and pooped as normal.  He wears clothes with zippers all of the time, and seems to still trust me as his beloved Mammo.  But as I look back at that time I scarcely recognize myself.  I was so uptight its amazing Tucker came out as liberated and spontaneous as he is. The thing that strikes me most is that even though my brain knew I couldn't control everything and make Tuckers life perfect, I was still going around beating myself up and trying to make it happen.  Not only that but I castigated myself over the slightest mishap. Eventually Tucker started sleeping and I rejoined humanity.  Looking back I can chalk most of it up to new parent sickness (that's what I call all the weird behaviors first time parents sometimes do), but I think there was also a deeper problem with me. It took the death of my beloved father, and several other harsh reality smacks from Deity before I began to see that my attempts to control everything were making me (and everyone around me) miserable. 

Six years after Tucker was born another miracle occurred and I had Seraphyn, this time without benefit of fertility drugs and embarrassing questions and probes.  This was totally unplanned, unexpected, and shocking on more than one level, but I had learned some valuable lessons by this point.  All the charts and planning in the world can't account for everything, sometimes unexpected things happen and you have to be flexible enough to handle them.  I welcomed this late in life surprise with gratitude and amazement.  OK, and a little annoyance that Deity chose to send her AFTER I got rid of the last of my baby stuff!   My parenting experience with Saso has been completely different, much more organic and relaxed, and while I wouldn't say she's a happier child than Tucker was I would defiantly say that I'm a much happier Mommy.  My mother used to say that the Mom sets the tone of the household, and I think she was right.  I just thank Deity for sending me the lessons and teachers I needed to make my house a much more relaxed and peaceful place.

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