Regrets of a Young Momma

The older I get the more I realize how young I was when I became a mother. I am beginning to realize how naive, clueless and inexperienced I was. I am just starting to realize the sadness that my mother had in her heart when she found out what I was about to face. Being a mother at any age is difficult, there is no doubt about it, but there is something extraordinarily hard about having motherhood tossed at you just as you are exiting your own childhood.

As of last week it has been four years since I found out I was pregnant. I often look back at that day for what it was, one of the scariest days of my life. There was no joy, there was no celebration. There was sadness, loneliness, and a whole lot of confusion. I didn’t know exactly how hard the road ahead of me was going to be. There was nothing anyone could say or do to fully prepare me. Lately for whatever reason I have had resentment seep into my thoughts. Not at my daughter or anyone in particular except for myself. Why was I so stupid? Why didn’t I think about what I was doing and the responsibility that I was taking on at such a young age? In my darkest moments I think that my daughter would have been better off with someone else. Someone who wasn’t still trying to figure themselves out or who could be happy playing and reading books for most of the day.

Maybe its these toddler years that are getting to me, or that it’s been over three years with no real break. Maybe I’m realizing that my own youth is slipping past me and I’m spending most of it changing diapers and buying juice boxes. Maybe it’s this stressful but incredible trip that made me realize how much harder life is with a child. When I got back last week I sat and cried to my mom, “I never even had a chance to be an adult.”

Life is full of choices and I’ve certainly made mine to get me to where I am today. Despite these dark moments, the second guessing and feelings of being a failure, I’d make the same damn choices again if it meant I got to be my little girls momma. It’s so difficult, but so worth it.

Post Trip Blues

Just one week ago I was in Norway on my way to London. Just a week and one day ago I had one of the most memorable nights of my life. I saw the northern lights. The day before we had spent over $100 each to take a bus out of the city to see the lights. We stood outside in the cold, but never saw a thing. We didn’t get back to our room until past 2am, but still didn’t see a thing. 

My sister seemed more disappointed than I was. Seeing the northern lights wasn’t really something I had thought about. A couple of my friends said they were jealous when I said I might see them, and I chuckled when I heard one of the popular songs on the radio talk about not seeing the lights. It just wasn’t something I had a chance to think about, but in that I discovered the beauty of the checking things off your bucket list that you never even knew were on it. 

It was the next night that my sister said she was going to step outside and see if she could spot anything. We were told it was much more difficult to spot the lights  in the city, but it was worth a shot. Not long after she went outside I got a call from her, she saw them! I rushed downstairs, as much as one can rush when needing to dress a 3-year-old for an arctic night. By the time I got there, they were gone. We decided we’d hike up the hill to find a more clear area, away from the city street lights. I went back inside to get extra layers and when I came back I had missed them again. Just my luck I thought. Frustrated but not completely hopeless we started to walk up the hill when all of a sudden, in the midst of bright street lights we see the northern lights just above us. As bright as be, just above our heads. It seemed as if I could easily fly up and touch it. It danced above us, swirling and starting to turn pink. If anything is perfect, this was it. It was surreal, beautiful and majestic. It was magical. 

When it stopped we continued up the hill until we found a graveyard of all things. We stood and saw it come and go, until we decided it best we didn’t stomp on anymore graves. Walking further we found a quiet spot, a small bit away from the street lights without too many trees blocking our way. The lights came on long strips, but the intensity was never like the first time I saw it. It was beautiful none the less. We stood there among the snow, staring up at the sky until my toes were numb. Much of the time we stayed silent as Eloise slept in the carrier. One time my sister mentioned how crazy it was that just 48 hours later I’d be home in San Diego. I closed my eyes, “but I’m not now.” 

I knew it would go by quickly. From the start, I knew. But there were so many moments when things were tough that it felt like our trip was at a snails pace. It’s always at the end that we realise just how fast it went. I’ve been home a week now, and I would do anything to be back with my frozen toes staring at the northern lights. I’d do anything to be drinking a beer and looking at the Eiffel Tower with my best friend. I’d love to go back to Italy and enjoy a plate of spaghetti and a glass of red wine, or be in Ireland drinking a Guinness. It’s difficult to go from the wild experiences we had, to home. I’ve never been completely happy at home. People say there is nothing like your own bed, but I’ve never felt that way. I’d rather be sleeping in my bed at the hostel in Edinburgh or the bed in Paris. My life feels very boring now. How can I top the last few months? I can’t, but I can hold on to the memories.  

 

Traveling to Europe with a 3-year-old

When I first found out we were going to Europe some of the reactions from my mom friends included “wow, you’re so brave!”, “I wouldn’t be able to do it, good for you.” and “you’re young, you can handle it better than me.” Most of these comments struck me as odd. Obviously these people haven’t traveled with their kids much. Last year we spent several months in Oregon, and since Ellie has been alive she has gone on 3 major road trips to the mid west, a flight to St. Louis, up to Oregon and back 2 times, up to Sacramento and a million trips to Disneyland. Sure, Europe was on the other side of earth, but what’s the big difference? 

Well, the time for one. If you’re thinking about taking a small child to Europe for less than a few weeks, don’t bother. We spent the first week adjusting to the time. Alone it would have been pretty easy to adjust within a day or two, but I didn’t have that option. I slept when she slept and I was awake when she was awake. My sister was also on her schedule   so it was difficult to enjoy our time in that first week. 

We’ve been here a couple weeks so we are adjusted now, but it almost seems that she can sense how far we really are, even though I know she can’t totally grasp it. She often crys for her grandma and says that she wants to go home. Granted we are traveling around more here, but in Oregon she never said things like that. Then again, 3 is a completely different age than 2. She asks a lot of questions about everything, which can sometimes be overwhelming for me, but I know she is just trying to make sense of everything. 

Traveling abroad can be stressful and overwhelming no matter how old you are. Traveling to Europe with a toddler is hard, but is it worth it? I think so. Though she may be young, we are learning a lot about the world and making great memories. I’m excited to tell her “when you were three we went on a big adventure!”  

 

Our Biggest Adventure Yet

My sister has had the travel bug since she left home at 18, 14 years ago. She would either be in some random part of the country working at a national park or some random part of the world hiking solo. It got to the point where I’d lose track of where she was and would make something up when people asked about her. I always thought it was cool because she was pursuing things that she loved, but I never really had the same desires. I always thought I would like to travel if I had the opportunity, but I wasn’t anxious to go looking for it.

When I got pregnant in 2012 it solidified that I wouldn’t be doing any of the typical, or as I like to call them, cliche young people things. You know, skydiving, partying every weekend, traveling to Europe and serial dating. I accepted these truths early on, and began my life as a young single mom. I have never been skydiving, I don’t date and very rarely “party”, my daughter is my bff and I proudly know the words to every Disney JR theme song. Life is different when you have a child, but there is still excitement and adventure to be had. 

Last winter we traveled to Oregon with my sister and her boyfriend and stayed on a farm for several months. I got a small taste of my sisters nomadic life and had a blast. It was tough and uncomfortable at times, but looking back I am so glad we did it. We had so much fun that my sister emailed me several months ago and said she wanted to go on a trip with us again this winter, possibly somewhere abroad. As a broke single mom I didn’t really know what our options were, but I was excited about the idea. Without much of a travel bug I hadn’t really thought much about places I would like to visit, but Europe always sounded nice. As I mentioned it to her, I really didn’t think anything would happen, but her travel wheels started turning and she started planning us a trip. Getting the flights for close to nothing, booking hostels and confirming farms we could work on like we did in Oregon. My sister isn’t just a talker, she’s a doer. I say that as I lay here in our hostel in the middle of London. 

Although my sister was planning everything, I was still nervous about coming to a foreign place, especially with a 3 year old, but this isn’t the kind of opportunity you pass up. This is our third night here, and honestly with the time difference it has been pretty tough, but also really incredible. It’s surreal to actually be here and experience this culture that we hear so much about. Though I brushed off the “cliche young people things” as things people in their 20’s need to do to feel validated, I feel incredibly blessed that I’m getting to experience on of them now. Not validated, but pretty blessed. 

 

When You Tell Me I’m Beautiful

When you tell me I’m beautiful you don’t know how many times I’ve looked at myself and said I’m ugly. You don’t know how many days I felt ugly, or how many times I did ugly things. 

When you tell me I have beautiful hair you don’t know how many days I’ve cried over it, obsessed over it. You don’t know about the time I cut my own bangs, or wanted to shave my head. 

When you tell me I have beautiful eyes you don’t know how many times I wished for bigger ones, or how many people have made jokes about them. 

When you tell me I’m beautiful you don’t care that I’m not as skinny as I use to be. When you tell me I have beautiful hair you don’t care that I’ve been wearing it in a pony tail for three years. When you tell me that I have beautiful eyes you don’t care that they’re small or that I can’t see much without glasses. 

When you tell me that I am beautiful, I believe it. I believe it because I see the beauty in you. I believe it because I know you came into my life for a reason. I believe because I know I was meant to be your mom. I believe it because I know you believe in me and mean it when you say I’m beautiful. When you tell me that I’m beautiful, I feel beautiful. 

24

I’ve always felt that we all are allowed to feel old no matter our age because in this exact moment we are the oldest we have ever been. If we are talking about “old” in relation to life expectancy than sure, some of us are a lot younger than others, but at the end of the day we’re all still the oldest we have ever been. Earlier this evening I was realizing on the eve of my 24th birthday that I am entering the last year in my early 20’s. They might seem like such a silly thing if you’re in your 40’s or beyond, but to me it is something. 
I’ll always remember crying on my 13th birthday because I felt so old. It has only been 11 years since that day, and even in everything that has happened since then, I still understand why I was sad. I was starting my life as a teenager for the first time. Little did I know then that I would become a mother just a few months after leaving the teen years. It’s still so odd to think that I only lived 4 months in my 20’s before getting pregnant and being a mom. You could say I never got the chance to experience my youth, but somehow I would think you are wrong. My early 20’s were a lot different than many, but I’m learning just as much, getting to travel and even having a drink here or there. Life is a lot different than it might have been, but I have a feeling it is a lot more exciting with my sweet girl. 

As of a few minutes ago I am 24 years old. I don’t know what this next year will hold for me, but I am excited for the ride. 

Reflections on a Wedding Day

Yesterday I went to my friends wedding. It was 8 hours from where I live so it wasn’t easy getting there, but we made it. She asked if Ellie (my 2 year old) would be her flower girl. Though the bride and I hadn’t talked much in a couple years, I knew that asking Ellie to be in the wedding was a way of including me. I couldn’t help but think of all the wonderful times we had together. Even the times when we would talk about her future wedding, and how all her friends at the time would be in it. None of those friends, except me were even invited. Weddings are a time to reflect. Thinking about our relationship with the bride or groom, how much has changed and how quickly these moments go by. During the rehearsal I met the groom. She introduced me as a “friend from college” which is accurate, but I wondered when I had just become a friend from college to her now husband. How quickly things change. 

I don’t know anything about marriage or being a bride, but I do know how valuable true friendship is. There were multiple times when I realized that it didn’t really make sense for me to go to this wedding. I didn’t have the money, a way to get there and I was so sure that Ellie wouldn’t walk down the aisle. Even on our way there my friend who drove me almost turned around because she wasn’t feeling well. Things were stacked against me making it, but I am so grateful that I did. The bride was a friend who never judged me throughout my crazy days, and was always there to listen when I needed her. The least I could do was be there for her on her wedding day. 

This weekend ended up being worth all the trouble, but it also gave me a chance to reflect on a lot of things. What kind of friends do I want in my life, and what kind of friend am I? It’s truly incredible how quickly life changes. I’ve learned to except the expected and go with whatever may come our way. Oh, and Ellie DID walk down the aisle. Much more on that later. 

  

The Struggling Gentle Parent

I’ve lost count of how many mom groups I’m in on facebook. Local mom groups, a bedrest group from when I was on bedrest while I was pregnant, several cloth diaper groups (I started and quit cloth diapering all within several months), single mom groups, and anything related to being a mom group. Being a mom can often feel lonely and isolating, so being able to connect with thousands of moms and get advice within a matters of minutes can be quite comforting and actually really cool. From time to time a mom will post about a specific behavior question, and most responses will be along the lines of taking privileges away or some type of punishment. The thing is I don’t agree with any of that, and along my parenting journey have discovered that I connect most with gentle parenting. From my own description a gentle parent believes in respecting children like you would any human. Crazy thought, right? They shouldn’t be yelled at, hit (“spanked”), or shamed. A lot of gentle parents also do not believe in punishments and rewards, because (another crazy thought) we want them to WANT to do the right thing, and not do it because they know they will get something or have something taken away.

Just today I was thinking about all the times I was nice to my mom so she wouldn’t punish me or take something I wanted away from me. I was often afraid of her. She didn’t abuse me, but like a lot of parents she yelled, and threatened. These are things I don’t want my daughter to be around, yet I find myself yelling at my mom all the time. Lately MY MOM has been the one telling me that I shouldn’t yell in front of ellie. I am thankful that she reminds me, but why am I getting so off track? I know that I will never be perfect, but sometimes I question if I can even call myself a gentle parent. Sometimes I think I am too permissive and let my 2 year old “get away” with too much, while other times I’ll look back on the day and wish I had been more patient. I’m usually an all or nothing type of person. When I became a vegetarian at the age of 9 I didn’t eat meat again until I was 19, and when I ate it then I felt so bad about it that I felt I better give up being a vegetarian all together. When I started drinking in college I felt so bad about it I just drank more. I wish I could always remember that it’s okay to mess up, but that I should use it as a reminder to pick up and keeping going and remember why you believe what you believe in the first place. A big part of being a parent is modeling how you want your kids to behave. I want my daughter to see that I mess up, but then I learn from it and do better next time. Parenting is tough, but we’re always learning.

Goodbye Baby?

  I was looking at these adorable baby wraps on Instagram tonight and wondering if they would work for my little 2 year old, but then I remembered that she has an opinion now and one that I try to respect. We still use the ergo baby carrier, and ellie has grown quite attached to it. Well, maybe she’s more attached to me, but she loves that thing. I’m not sure how she’d feel if I brought in another carrier 2 and a half years into this arrangement. 

We still do a lot of the same things we did when she was born. We still share the same bed, we still use the ergo and we even still nurse and I’m still changing diapers. But it’s like I just looked at her one day and realized that she’s not a baby anymore, and I’m not even sure when it happened. There was a commercial a little while back that said that babies were only a baby for a year. Did ellie become a toddler on her 1st birthday? I don’t think so, but maybe her 2nd? I swear there was still some baby left in her then. 

When I got pregnant in college it was all about how I was going to have a baby. How I was going to take care of the baby, and provide for the baby. How I would parent a baby. I know everyone’s says they grow up fast, but man do they really grow up fast. Even today someone said “wait until she’s a teenager” with which I replied that we still had a few years. In fact we still have over ten years before she’s a teenager, but will I just wake up again one day and realize that she’s not a little girl anymore? 

I hear a lot of moms talk about going through a tough time when they have what they know will be their last baby. I don’t know if ellie will be my last baby, but I know that it’s possible. Some days I wish that I could be planning to have another baby right now, or at least talking about it with my spouse. Some days I wish I knew for sure that I would have more kids one day, more babies, more pregnancies and a chance to be excited when I see a positive pregnancy test. It’s hard not knowing, and it’s also hard knowing that my little Ellie’s baby years are over. Whether it’s your first or your last (or both), it’s hard coming to the realization that your baby is growing up. While each stage is precious and challenging in its own way, it’s hard not to mourn the loss of what we will never get back again. In a way, baby ellie will always be my baby, but she won’t always fit in my arms. 

Thoughts on the office

the office – While I was in Oregon with my sister and her boyfriend we watched some old movie series’ like Star Wars, Indiana Jones and the Hunger Games, but then we decided to watch the office from the beginning. I had seen 98% of the episodes before, but once we started it was hard not to get into it again, even though for the most part I knew what would happen. I’m not sure if everyone is like this, but when I get into a T.V. show or movie, I want it to be real, and even when I know it isn’t, a small part of me still believes it is. I remember finding out that Titanic wasn’t a true story, or at least the Jack and Rose part. I remember my mom telling me that there was probably a story like it, but not that specific one. It wasn’t enough for me at the time, and still in some ways knowing there is a similar story still isn’t enough, but the nice thing about movies, T.V. shows and of course books is that we can always find something to relate to and that are true to us. Even if it’s just an emotion, or a similar experience, as humans we like hearing other people’s stories. It helps us cope, it helps us grow and it helps understand one another.

I started watching the office when my sister introduced it to me just a few years after it first aired in 2005. I remember randomly saying ‘that’s what she said’ even though I had no idea what it meant. It wasn’t until my brother clued me in that it might not mean whatever I tought it meant that I decided to google it. We had many of the DVD sets which allowed me to catch up when I needed to, but I kind of fell behind in the last couple seasons as I went away to college. I remember watching the finale just a few years ago, but thanks to Netflix this was the first time I was able to watch all of the episodes consecutively. There is something so special about this series. It’s not just that it’s funny or that there are so many characters to love (or not love!), but that there is so much that we can take from it. After just watching the series finale I can’t help, but take away so much from what Pam (Jenna Fisher) and the other characters were saying as they reflected on this ten year documentary that they could look back on. Could you imagine watching the last ten years of your life (as Jim said in the finale). I think it would be really cool, but also really difficult at times. There are just some things in life that we don’t want to relive, but we can certainly learn from. 

Probably my favorite office quote comes from Andy in the finale when he says
“I wish there was a way to know that you’re in the good old days before you’ve actually left them.”
How true is this? We can all look back at some time in our lives and be able to appreciate that time more now than we could while we were in it. I too wish there was a way to know that we were in the good times while we are in it. Though we do know sometimes, there is such a unique perspective about looking back that no other perspective can share.

I’ve been living in this trailer park for the majority of my life. We have to move a lot, but we come here every year. I’ve been wanting to get an apartment for so long, but now that we’re talking about really doing it, I am getting sad thinking about never coming back here again. Why couldn’t I just appreciate the good old times while they were here? I guess life doesn’t always work like that. It’s too bad we only get one shot at this life. 

…that’s what she said.