Nice to Be Needed

You know the expression, "It's nice to be needed?"

Well, I am Needed all day long. Unfortunately, I am also Needed many times throughout the night. It would be nice to be forgotten for just a moment or two, so that nobody needs me at all. In fact, sometimes I find myself chafing against it and getting on edge for no reason at all. I feel gritty and removed from the moment and then that makes me all the more frustrated. Today was one of those days.

So I went to the park.

It's a nice park. Perched on the edge of a hill. The right ratio of trees to sunshine. Just enough baby-sized swings and toys to keep us happy. Parks in the middle of the day are strange places. A mixture of stay at home moms and nannies who are getting paid to do this difficult job.

While we were there, I felt the minor buzz of annoyance that had been clinging to me all day start to drift away. It was nice to let Owen crawl on the grass with no fear of him getting into something dangerous or falling down and bumping his head yet again. Owen had his first time in a swing. A big Firsts among Firsts. And its pretty hard to be annoyed when your baby is cooing in a swing.

Later, when we were sitting in the shade contemplating state of mind and colorful teething toys, two boys appeared on mini-motorized-motorcycles. Owen was mesmorized by them. I smiled at my baby and "what a boy" he is and then suddenly I realized that my "tough little boy" had crept into my lap, sat down, wrapped his arms around mine, and was watching the motorcycles from the safety of mommy's arms. Guys, this is a Big Deal. My baby never Needs me in this way. Even when he falls down and bumps his head - yes, even when he fell down and cut the inside of his lip! - he doesn't need me. I mean, yes, he wants me to pick him up, bounce him, shhh him, but then damnit, I better put him back down in 1.6 seconds so he can get back to whatever super dangerous thing he was doing. But today....today he needed me to make him feel safe and secure while he watched the world.

Later, I took him over to the playground where two little one year old twins were tottering around. Owen was entranced by the boy twin who was running around like a wild animal and I'm sure he took some notes for his future self. I struck up a conversation with the nanny. In Spanish, just to challenge myself. Once she discovered what I do (did) for a living, she started to share her story of how her husband is on disability and her oldest son was just incarcerated and her younger son is reacting badly and...and...and... It was, sadly, just like the many stories I used to hear every single day. I felt like I was sitting in my office at the hospital, instead of sitting crossed legged and barefoot at the park. Without thinking, I began getting her the numbers for Legal Aid and the 211 Access Line for services. I coached her through talking to her son's teachers, asking for help, etc. All the while I drew the firm line that no, I couldn't be her son's therapist.

When I left, she gave me her phone number and asked me to call her if I found any other services. I took her number, knowing I was likely never going to call, and wished her luck sincerely. When I got home, I nursed my sleepy baby, who fell asleep for his nap while touching my cheek.

So, I guess, there are some times where it is really nice to be needed.

Let's give this another try...

Well, I'm still here. But my blog sits neglected and dusty in a corner somewhere. I didn't even dust it off to reminisce and ponder the fact that my baby has now been alive for half of a year. And if I couldn't be bothered to write about that, well then, it's possible this blog is done. But then, a night creeps in like tonight, when everything is quiet and I wonder...what is going on in the blogosphere? What is going on with those wonderful women who saw me through my pregnancy and those first oh so difficult weeks of Owen's life?

So, I'm going to write a bit, and see what happens.

Tonight is quiet. B is up in LA, staying overnight for work. Owen went to bed early. So I am listening to the emptiness of the air conditioning. There is so much to say and yet...it all will seem mundane if I type it into words. You can't describe chubby thighs wobbling as they quiver to standing. Or how intently he tries to learn each piece of the world. Or the way he melts into my neck when I pick him up in the middle of the night. How do I tell you these things? How do I tell you about him laughing in the pool today, or him crying when he falls down, or his giggles as he touches my neck while he nurses to sleep? Either you know...and you get it...or it is just mine. My little mundane moments of motherhood.

I am rambling. Maybe this is why I don't blog anymore. I'm not the same, systematic person I was before. During my pregnancy, I diligently categorized each symptom, trimester, and important event. I explained it in linear, detailed form. And now, while there is so much to report, my brain seems to not work that way any more. Instead, I think in moments. Owen crawling across the floor at five and a half months. Owen sick with a cold, sleeping on my chest. Owen pulling himself to standing for the first time. Owen taking his first tentative steps, cruising along the couch. Owen, Owen, Owen.

I live in these moments. I live in yoga pants. I live sitting on the floor. I live watching. Watching him.

How did this happen? Where am I? Where is the person who worked so hard at her career and took so much pride in her identity as an intellectual, driven woman? Where is the woman with a sexual, feminine side? Where is the person who brushed her hair and painted her toenails? Where is the person who thought about things other than...him?

I could take this post into a long commentary on being a stay at home mom. But...the cat just settled down on my lap and I smiled. I smiled and realized I don't really care enough to write about it. Why not? Because I am just happy. Happy in this moment. Happy in these moments. For the first time that I can remember since being a little girl, I don't...yearn for things, worry about things, agonize over things, dread things...I just am. Just happy. How amazing is that?

Not saying life isn't hard. Because I am ridiculously exhausted, physically and emotionally. I crave time to myself. I miss things. But...for now, this is where I am. And I know it's not forever. I know I will go back to having multiple facets to my identity. But for now, this is It.

One Week to Six Months