I was hoping to get the ELVER AWARD winners up tonight, and at last count I seem to have it narrowed down to the top…23.
I know! But you all are so talented! And there were 99 comments, many with multiple entries, so 23 is certainly a start. I am hoping to finish the judging tomorrow, and next time we have a contest I respectfully request that you dial the cleverness down a notch to make my job easier.
{Also, confidential to my mother: DISQUALIFIED! You don’t need me to buy you chocolate—I have it on good authority that the streets in Switzerland are paved with cocoa.}
I think it is obvious that NaBloPoMo was a disaster this year. I sorely overestimated myself, or underestimated Simone. This is easily the most difficult stage she has gone through so far, and I am finding myself exhausted, and short on both time and temper. The poor baby wants constantly to be on the move, and is furiously frustrated by her lack of physical ability. She can sit on her own, but can’t GO anywhere from a sitting position, instead falling hard onto the foam mats we have on our living room floor. She can roll from back to front, but not the other way around, and we don’t let her scoot around on the back of her head any more because she kept running into things and hurting herself we are mean. She is quick to anger and slow to fall asleep, and when she wakes up in the night, she wants to talk and practice her squeal, which is incredibly annoying PERFECTLY NATURAL. We continually refuse to play with her at three in the morning, for obvious reasons for NO GOOD reason. You get the idea.
To be honest, at the moment I do not feel like there is any area of my life in which I am doing a particularly good job, and something has to give. I am typing this right into WordPress, and when I am finished I will simply press “publish” and be done with it—no cutting and pasting from Word, no rereading or editing. I know that normal people do this all the time, but keep in mind, I am somebody who EDITED HER OWN DIARY in high school. It is becoming obvious that perfectionism and motherhood are severely incompatible.
{ 47 comments… read them below or add one }
You are an excellent mother. If you think there’s better moms out there, you’re fooling yourself. Parenting is by “trial and error” even though you kick yourself when you choose a path that goes all wrong. Try to remember to pat yourself on the back when you do the things that go right.
I constantly feel like I’m only doing an adequate job at all parts of my life and wonder if I just focus on one thing if I could be really go at it. The obvious choice would be focusing on my daughter, but then she’d have no dishes to eat out of or diapers or clothes to wear. I’d really like to focus on my sleep or reading, but I think social services would come after me for that :)
Nope, there is something you are doing well. You are doing a bang up job of being Simone’s mum.
Consider it practice when she wants to stay out all night with her friends, or she wants a porsche for her 16th birthday, or the like.
Hang in there. This is the trenches. You are doing great.
If by “disaster” you mean charming, hilarious, moving, and amazing then yes, I would agree.
As I type this, I hear the dulcet tones of one of my darling spawn who should be napping echoing down the stairwell.
This time it is not entirely their fault as the daft pricks five doors down have decided to play their rather culturally specific music at a volume loud enough for the entire neighbourhood to form an instant dislike of it.
Sigh.
This cooment really had very little to do with your post except that I think you are doing just fine….
J
It was also horribly misspelt. Many apologies.
J
Alexa – you and Scott are wonderful parents and troopers for all you’ve been through. Pat yourselves on the back.
I am wondering if investing in a walker for Simone would allow her to become mobile, but not hurt herself on your hardwood floors or ramming into walls and such. The walker might ram into things and not hurt her at all, except for the occasional jarring. My one and only kid, my daughter, learned to walk with the use of a walker, but that was 34 years ago! They still do make them and it may just help strengthen her leg muscles, etc. Just a thought.
Yes, they are, they are totally incompatible. I am finding the same thing. You’re doing great, and I love your writing!
You are an incredible writer. The fact you didn’t proofread this just shows how talented you are. I’m with you… I gave up perfectionism very soon after Adam was born! Perfectionism and motherhood certainly do not mix!
You’re right – no perfect mothers, but sometime you will find you have perfect days.
(and I enjoyed every one of your posts this month)
If it’s easier, you could post the top 23 and let your readers vote for a winner…
I so often read your posts and think to myself – thank god I am not the only one. You echo my thoughts on new motherhood on a regular basis and I can relate to everything you mentioned in this post. My 9 month old (on Monday!) son is exhibiting the same quirky, um, behaviors as Simone. ;-)
Thank you for sharing. Even if it is typed right in to WordPress!
Hugs!
Ah, forgot to mention. The Einstein baby saucer is saving my sanity right now, as is the Rainforest jumper. I stayed away from walkers because I heard there were some safety issues (as in all things, I know) but these two items are keeping us all more positive right now!
I, for one, think you are an amazing mom, and I enjoyed every single entry this month! Thank you for all that you do.
I’m not a Mom (yet) so I could be one of those childless, amorphous voices judging you in your head. E.g. “she shouldn’t be so tired…I said I would never do x,y,or z with the baby/lose my temper.”
But you know what? The amorphous voice of judgment in your head wrong. You are a good Mom! A VERY good Mom. And any amorphous voices who say otherwise are ninnies. There. I said it. Ninnies. They want to talk trash? Have ‘em call me! Take that evil voices in your head!
I have an almost-crawling six-month-old, a very dramatic three-year-old, and a job where I work from home. I know I should be (and frequently am! honest!) grateful for all of them, but most days I just feel like inadequacy, thwarted perfectionism and snappishness are my new Trinity. Most days I am Sisyphus. I could’ve written your last two paragraphs, if I could string a sentence together anymore … so thanks for the laugh of recognition you gave me today, and the various other kinds of laughs (and weepings) you’ve given on other days. You’re not alone.
Seriously, you didn’t even spellcheck it? You ARE a disaster!
Kidding.
Yeah, perfectionism and motherhood are mutually exclusive — didn’t anyone tell you that, silly girl? Oh, and Saxby Chambliss is one of my clients (no, we do not share a political ideology) and I have long adored his name (his mom must have KNOWN he would be a Southern Senator). You are cracking me up with “Wishing you a Saxby Chambliss”…
Dude! How can you say it has been a disaster? That is crazytalk–your entries have been consistently well written and wonderful.
Go!Go!Go!
Hey, you edited your own diary? Whew, now I don’t feel so weird…
Hang in there!
This is one of those rough spots, it does get much better. Just hang in there and have a large glass of something every night.
Like someone else mentioned, do you have a walker or one of those circular entertainment centers that we used to call the baby office? I recall the baby office being a lifesaver and I was bereft when our more challenging younger child outgrew it.
Simone just sent me an email — apparently you’re not feeding her anymore? And have stripped your abode of cheery toys leaving her only dust bunnies and television remotes to play with? (Ditto with the circular office. Saved. my. life. That and the bouncy swing.)
I don’t know about you, but I’m pleased as punch that I’ve *commented* as much as I have. Hmph. November is harrrrrd.
A walker…cool. I had one. A good running start and I was able to get one leg over the barrier and into the “remodeling zone.” I vote for a walker…just for family tradition’s sake.
I think *all* of us feel the exact same way.
ehmmmm….hate to break it to you Alexa but there are NO perfect mothers out there. Those that pretend to be are even more deficient than those of us that lay all out there for everyone to see.
Hang in there sister and don’t be so damn hard on yourself; you will eventually find a rhythm that works for you!!
I think you are amazing! You love and care for your beautiful baby and always write eloquently and engagingly, whether amusing, thoughtful or straight-from-the-heart. Please stop being so hard on yourself, and for the record, NaBloPoMo has *not* been a disaster at all.
“To be honest, at the moment I do not feel like there is any area of my life in which I am doing a particularly good job,”
Yup. Welcome to motherhood. Especially working motherhood. Don’t worry! You get used to that feeling and more kind to yourself as time goes on.
I am sure that your Mom has told you on at least one occasion, Do not set yourself such a high goal that it cannot be acheived….
You are VERY good at what you are doing… Keep up the good work, and stop trying to do yourself in….
I’d say your revelation is worth celebrating! The sooner you let go of the P word, the better off you AND Simone will be! She will thank you for it one day, I’m sure.
I was just saying the very same thing to my husband yesterday about not doing a particularly good job in any area of my life. He made me go get my nails done, which was very sweet. Now I suck at everything but I have nice nails.
Please go easy on yourself. I work and am working on a second degree and on a weight loss program … and I’m tired and discouraged a lot of the time. And my life is SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO easy compared to yours. At least I get down time – time I can procrastinate by ignoring my responsibilities for a few hours. I can’t even imagine having to take care of a young baby 24/7. Well… that’s not true. I CAN imagine it, and the very idea exhausts me. You are doing great. I don’t think there is any “perfect” way of dealing with the challenges you are dealing with.
I edited my own diary in high school too, but I’m clearly more twisted than you are because I didn’t realize that was a strange thing. So you have that going for you.
Plus, I think in certain cases when someone wonders/worries if they’re doing a good job at anything, it’s a good sign that they are. Doing a good job, I mean. And you seem to be one of those cases. This was meant to be reassuring, but I’m incredibly hungover and “emotive” does not seem to be on the abilities list today. I apologize.
Anyway, even without the editing, your entry today was really Great: inspirational and evocative as ever. Chin up, Alexa!
I have enjoyed your blog entries all month and hope you can look back and be proud that despite all the other things going on in your life, you managed to write every day. That alone is a huge accomplishment!
Also, I know I missed the deadline so this can’t be considered for the prize, but I wanted to share my verse anyway…
Oh I wish I were a little preemie girl (or boy)
Oh I wish I were a little preemie girl (or boy)
I’d go grow-y, grow-y, grow-y
From my head down to my toe-ys
Oh I wish I were a little preemie (girl)
fantastic! i used to write drafts for my diary, checking for perfect penmanship as much as anything else. (now that i think about it, that explains why i went into a graphic field and not writing. i care more about how it looks than what it says.)
i’ve always considered myself a sprinter and not a marathon runner (i assure you, in metaphor only. quite lazy in real life). and that applies to motherhood. i have been having much more trouble with the day to day tedium of parenting now that my daughter is 20 months old, than i ever did with the panic and insecurity of the early months.
also wanted to second the earlier request to post 23 song entries and have readers vote. i’m quite curious, but don’t have the time to go back and see if they are posted in comments somewhere.
Just wanted to say I am saddened that November is over—-your posts EVERY day this month have been amazing! Thank you for the challenge you gave yourself! Simone really will learn a lot from your determination.
Oh, yes, November is hard under any circumstance. Absolutely. I’d love it if you’d post a list of the stuff you’re giving up on, as mine is growing longer and longer by the week. Christmas tree? Gone! Floor sweeping? Gone! (I have an 18 m.o.) Dentist visits? Gone!
Amazingly, I do still find time for web surfing. I open my bloglines every day and I’m delighted to see another post from you. (I keep forgetting that it’s NaBloPoMo, and that of course there will be a post. I am rather simple that way.) So I do hope that you won’t abstain all through December. (Of course, if it’s that or sleep, I do understand. Sort of.)
PS That almost-mobile stage was just a bitch for us… nothing helped. Not walkers, not real shoes (my mother’s idea), not fancy tummy-time mats, not jumperoos, not us physically moving Bonzo’s legs and arms in a crawl motion, nothing. It sucks, but it will pass, eventually.
Wow. Thanks for this post. After a cold, rainy Sunday home with DH and DS I feel that our collective accomplishment for the day is that not one of us murdered any other one (or more) of us. Even the dogs are still alive! So, yeah. It’s good to read this post and the comments and to know I’m not the only one who struggles…
I’m just chuckling at you editing your diary (I’d have done the same, if I’d kept one).
My friends still give me a hard time for editing the letter I received from a long ago love (you’re the one, he says, six freakin’ years later) before sending it to a friend. The grammar really did need some help.
And we editors sometimes can’t help ourselves.
PS. I’ve always though Saxby Chambliss sounds like a stripper. At porn star, at least.
You write a blog about your life. If your life gets hectic, your blog is going to reflect it, and isn’t that the whole point, anyway? We, your readers, don’t expect you to write anything you don’t feel like writing. If it’s all you can do to post a picture of a white flag, then, by God, post that picture! I don’t know if I’m making sense, but I don’t think you should call NaBloPoMo a disaster. You wrote, and that’s what matters.
Here’s a verse I came up with the other day. (Too late, I know, but I was proud of it.)
Oh, I wish I were a wee listerium
Oh, I wish I were a wee listerium.
I’d go lurkey, lurkey, lurkey
Inside Sara Lee’s turkey
Oh, I wish I were a wee listerium.
After all that, I have a typo in my comment! Argh~clearly I am merely an ex-editor now, a shadow of my former typo-catching self (sigh).
“It is becoming obvious that perfectionism and motherhood are severely incompatible.”
I came to the same conclusion this morning.
IVF Mom
“It is becoming obvious that perfectionism and motherhood are severely incompatible.” Hold that thought. I’ve been at this for almost 29 years and it’s still true. You’re doing well to discover this so early.
Before my son started crawling, I remember that stage, ack. It was the worse. He could sit and scoot on his butt but wanted to crawl so badly, he would just scream. It will get better once S starts crawling. But, holly hell, watch out! She’ll be into everything. I actually think when B started crawling it was much worse(as far as getting into stuff) than when he started walking.
Oh honey, you have to abandon the perfectionism for the sake of your sanity. You are a fabulous mother, even if you don’t think you’re living up to your standards. Once I accepted that, I was much happier. Or at least a little more normal. Maybe?
My 11-month-old is about to start walking and she is completely fearless. She climbs on EVERYTHING and falling, bruising and bleeding doesn’t stop her, it just slows her down.
Okay, I just had to come back and say that I thought NaBlowhatsit was great here this year! I’ve loved the little snippets from your day and have been so happy to come here and have something new every day!
And yeah, the perfectionist mother thing only gets more impossible with a two-year-old. Sigh.
You’re completely right. I have learned to embrace this mantra: Half-assed is better than nothing. (It applies to most situations, and it is really quite a relief.)
Also, I feel like I have to tell you that I totally read the confidential to your mom. Didn’t even try to look away. Sorry.