A New Game

Earlier this week, I encountered a mama who told me her daughter was “the easiest baby in the world.” She said she was a “delight.”

This comment made me pause. I smiled and thanked her for saying that. She looked at me curiously. I explained that up until that point, I'd really only heard other mamas focus on how tough their kids were or how tired they were as new mothers. I say all of this fully acknowledging that I've done this several times. Actually, my line is usually, "Stella is super great but busy busy busy." And I say it with a thoroughly exasperated look on my face.

It's made me wonder why so many of us mamas partake in this strange but pervasive contest. It seems like there's a game in our society of "Who's Got It Worse?" I see it everywhere, and I'm curious as to why I've participated. It's not like I want to live my life as a Pollyanna, ignoring the junk and pretending everything is peachy. I don't think I could pull that off even if I tried. But I do think there is some wisdom in living á la Doris Day. Life is hard. No string of pearls can mask the fact that this mothering gig is the hardest thing I've ever taken on in my life. But it seems like there's got to be happy medium between obnoxiously bragging about all your gifts in life and solely focusing on the crap. In fact, I know this happy medium exists. What I'd like to do is share the crummy moments with openness but focus on the rockin' moments with humility.

Yup, I'm calling for a revolution here. Why can't Mamas start braggin' a little about how amazing their kids are? We all know these kids are amazing, and it’s not obnoxious to think your kid is the smartest, sweetest, bestest kid in the world. It seems like we should admit this more often. Let’s ditch “Who’s Got It Worse?” and play “Who’s Rockin’ Out?”

So in the spirit of giving thanks, I plan on spending next week focusing on why my babe and my life rocks. Because I can’t resist drafting a list on the spot, here’s a short list for today.

(I highly recommend doing this, especially when you think you made a mistake in not naming your child Damien. Today was a particularly trying day since Stella has enough snot running out of her nose to quell a forest fire. She is fussy, exhausted and totally whooped. Jotting down this list - or at least thinking about it - saved my tired Mama butt from losing my cool (and mind) as she thrashed about in Fussville.)

Stella took another marathon nap today. Life is good. (Stella is an incredible sleeper. I list this first, because I'm told by perfect strangers I'm beyond lucky on this one. I agree. But it really has nothing to do with me. She came in this way, and I'm soaking it up happily. Sleep on, wee one. Sleep on.)

The Papa called me today just to tell me he missed me. It totally made my day.

Stella is so smart, precocious and creative. She laughed hysterically last night as Vinnie, one of our beloved cats, tried to nab some of the pasta off her high chair tray. The Papa and I are so pleased to have such a natural goofball in the house.

Stella now climbs the rocking chair from the side. She hoists herself up by the side arms, swings her little legs over and hops into the seat. It’s precarious and nerve-wracking, yes. But it tickles me to no end to know I’ve got a Can Do Girl on my hands.

I'm able to stay at home right now with Stella, and the Papa has a good job. I can't tell you how blessed I feel right now to have this privilege.

I have an awesome family. My parents are two of my best friends, my siblings are some of the coolest people I know and my extended family is beyond supportive.

I took a long walk with a dear friend today. We gabbed about the kids, swapped ideas about mothering and giggled over everything and nothing. My friends are true.

Despite having spent the last two years in a soggy drizzle-fest, this fall has been utterly spectacular in the Pacific Northwest. Hallelujah and thank you.

I'm healthy. My husband is healthy. My child is healthy. Enough said.

My list actually goes on. Seriously, I could continue for about an hour on this one. But I fear my head may inflate to dangerous proportions. Actually, it's my heart that feels pumped at the moment, and that is never a bad thing. I look at this list and think “Ya done good, Katherine.”

Not bad. Not bad at all.