"Mommy and Me" ... and I
I recently joined a "Mommy and Me" class in Hollywood.
At first, I was afraid of it, the class, afraid it would be like an episode of "Desperate Housewives" set on repeat, and I'd run screaming. But also, secretly, I craved a little maternal guidance, and never having held a baby – when I babysat, the kids were always old enough to tell me just what they wanted and needed, whether that be dinner, a story, a made-up game where everyone is a kittycat , or some new toy) – I needed some information.
As a new parent, it seems like the learning curve is monumental – how do people ever learn to put their babies to bed? To create structure, but not too much structure? To attend to Baby's cries and offer Baby the specific help s/he needs at each juncture? How do you navigate the new world of parenthood? I wanted to learn about child development – age appropriate play, how the brain develops, what my baby was seeing and hearing and feeling and mostly how to attend to each and every one of his needs so that he grows up safe and secure, believing that the Infinite Universe will take care of him.
The first group meeting, two weeks ago, was Heaven. I cried when they welcomed each baby with a song. I cried when I realized how much I missed my own mother. I cried, comforted by the solidarity of a circle of women all going through the same thing. Here was a sacred sisterhood! Each woman told her birth story, and I thought, "We have so much in common." And then I thought, I always was a sucker for 1970's Second Wave feminism. I love circles.
But in the ten days since that first meeting, since our second class and the addition of an email chain, I have learned that every mom except for me (and maybe a few ladies in Compton) own a 400 dollar "jogger stroller" in addition their carseat/Snap N Go set-up and their "umbrella" city stroller, and that they seem to have inexhaustible (okay, maybe that's an unfortunate word) energy and time for emails, lunch and hiking dates, and the ongoing purchase of "gear." I feel like I'm back in high school taking note of who just got cute new shoes. Maybe these are not my mommy peers after all? Where are the artists? Where are the working moms? Where are the moms who, like us, are trying to make do with less?
And now I'm debating whether to stay in the group or else, surrender to my growing workload and use the hours to take Baby on a walk (in lone stroller device, a totally viable Snap and Go hand-me-down) and then, write! After all, aren't I supposed to be writing?
Mostly what I am realizing is, my son needs me to listen to him -- and trust myself.
PS: Gordon says, technically, if one were minding one's grammar, it should be called "Mommy and I." Just saying.
At first, I was afraid of it, the class, afraid it would be like an episode of "Desperate Housewives" set on repeat, and I'd run screaming. But also, secretly, I craved a little maternal guidance, and never having held a baby – when I babysat, the kids were always old enough to tell me just what they wanted and needed, whether that be dinner, a story, a made-up game where everyone is a kittycat , or some new toy) – I needed some information.
As a new parent, it seems like the learning curve is monumental – how do people ever learn to put their babies to bed? To create structure, but not too much structure? To attend to Baby's cries and offer Baby the specific help s/he needs at each juncture? How do you navigate the new world of parenthood? I wanted to learn about child development – age appropriate play, how the brain develops, what my baby was seeing and hearing and feeling and mostly how to attend to each and every one of his needs so that he grows up safe and secure, believing that the Infinite Universe will take care of him.
The first group meeting, two weeks ago, was Heaven. I cried when they welcomed each baby with a song. I cried when I realized how much I missed my own mother. I cried, comforted by the solidarity of a circle of women all going through the same thing. Here was a sacred sisterhood! Each woman told her birth story, and I thought, "We have so much in common." And then I thought, I always was a sucker for 1970's Second Wave feminism. I love circles.
But in the ten days since that first meeting, since our second class and the addition of an email chain, I have learned that every mom except for me (and maybe a few ladies in Compton) own a 400 dollar "jogger stroller" in addition their carseat/Snap N Go set-up and their "umbrella" city stroller, and that they seem to have inexhaustible (okay, maybe that's an unfortunate word) energy and time for emails, lunch and hiking dates, and the ongoing purchase of "gear." I feel like I'm back in high school taking note of who just got cute new shoes. Maybe these are not my mommy peers after all? Where are the artists? Where are the working moms? Where are the moms who, like us, are trying to make do with less?
And now I'm debating whether to stay in the group or else, surrender to my growing workload and use the hours to take Baby on a walk (in lone stroller device, a totally viable Snap and Go hand-me-down) and then, write! After all, aren't I supposed to be writing?
Mostly what I am realizing is, my son needs me to listen to him -- and trust myself.
PS: Gordon says, technically, if one were minding one's grammar, it should be called "Mommy and I." Just saying.
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