"I don't know how she did it....."

Zachary is almost 8 months old.  Every week I've made a new week resolution that THIS is the week I'll start writing, start telling his story, and start honoring my own mother.  What finally prompted setting up this new account was a desire to post a comment on Nerissa's blog .  I had to register to be able to leave a comment. 

While I will try to post weekly, I will also NOT beat myself up if I don't pull off a post every week.  Motherhood is more rewarding than I ever thought possible, but man is it tiring!  There is a never ending list of things to do; laundry, dishes, put away the laundry, play with the baby, put him to bed, get up with him in the middle of the night, put away the dishes, make his food, feed him food, work, to and from daycare, and on and on.  The time with both hands on the keyboard is totally focused on working, not so much on doing things for myself. 

A couple weeks ago, I had lunch with a dear friend.  We were talking about what's new in our lives, and I recounted a story of my own mother - she spent almost my first full year of life recovering from various surgeries: An emergency hysterectomy days after I was born, gall bladder removal a few months later, and back surgery after fracturing 3 vertebra in her back while carrying me down icy steps.  I said to Kim "I don't know how she did it.  I can barely keep it together, and I'm basically healthy."

She looked at me, touched my hand, and said "Honey.  She asked for help.  That's how she did it."  I started to cry.  With the best intentions, and with love in her heart, my friend did exactly what true friends should do.  She put her finger right on the sore spot and reminded me where I'm weak, all the while lovingly supporting me through the realization.

The single hardest thing for me to do is to ask for help.  I have it my head that I am Wonder Woman.  I fact, I have a Wonder Woman maquette at my desk at work, and an amazingly cool drawing and litho of Wonder Woman at my desk at home.  It's my Matrix-style RSI - I can do it all, with a lasso in one hand, and bathing suit bottoms that never ride up and give me a wedgie.

But the fact is I'm not Wonder Woman.  I do the best I can, I juggle, I cajole, I knuckle down and "just do it", but I get frustrated, and I get scared.  I get lonely and I get discouraged.  I feel like I'm failing as a wife and mother because I do and do and do without asking for help, then I wander around in a low grade state of  pissed-off because DON'T PEOPLE SEE HOW TIRED I AM?!?!?!

Control is an illusion - I can only be responsible for myself.  And the responsibility I need to own is that I need to ask for help when I'm overwhelmed.  I had a really great talk with Mark about this, and he's been incredibly responsive in the times that I've been able to ask for help.  This is progress.

In baby news: Zachary is a rolling machine.  He sort of military drags himself around on the ground by his elbows for short distances, and just rolls over and over for longer distances.  We call him "Shoe-dini" because of his amazing ability to get out of any and all items we put on his feet.  He's also discovered the laundry basket, and loves to sit inside while I push him around and make car noises (Vrooom, ERRRRR, BANG! Beep Beep!).  He wakes up each morning with a smile, and has started hiding his face on my shoulder and giggling when he's really tickled by something.  He's also started vocalizing, "da-da" seems to be his happy noise, as in "Ahhhh!  AHHHH! DA-DA!" Mark is trying to teach him evolve that to "donut", but I am going on record to say, if the baby says "Donut" before he says "Ma-Ma" there is going to be hell to pay.