Tampons and maxi-pads

Why do I even worry about typing in that title?

Why does it even warrant a second thought, as if those are swear words?

A few weeks ago, on the morning of my 40th birthday, I broke out in a rash. Well, I may have broken out in that rash in the middle of the night. Not sure. But by morning, I was fully broken.

The doctor told me she thought it was an allergic reaction and we went through possible culprits I may have engaged with recently: nuts (check), shellfish (check), new body wash (check - even if you ARE a bar soap person, how can you not start using the bodywash in your new, not-for-sale-in-Europe shampoo and soap dispenser?), new creams (check - or at least ones not used in a while). Well, hell. So now I might be allergic to nuts and Body Shop products?

Dang.

We even decided together to chuck the menstrual cramp meds I started taking the day before I broke out. Oops. I did it again. This time I wrote the word "menstrual." Seriously, why is that such a problem? Have we all forgotten that women's periods are the reason any of us exist?

Well, the anti-histamines worked. My skin calmed down. I have since eaten nuts and shellfish. And used some of those creams. No problem.

And then I pulled out the one other, new thing I hadn't remembered I'd bought. Maxi-pads. With some horrible "scented, anti-smell" pearl "technology." Because, what, showering isn't an option when you have your period? You have only one pad for the the whole week of....ok, sorry, if you're not a woman that may have been just a bit too much for your delicate sensibilities. I apologize. Please, try to forget that imagery, and continue playing Grand Theft Auto. Anyway, I have decided the culprit was the perfumy pads. They have been since banished from the house. The rash was worse on my stomach and thighs, and that is evidence enough. (Well, thanks to my cousin L, I was reminded that I didn't have to go do the scientific thing and actually try them out on myself again.).

I threw them out and then looked for other pads. Single ones, loose in the house in various handbags and pockets. And it made me wonder why I have to be so embarrassed to pull one out of a bag while searching for something else. I don't turn shades of red when I unpack a pack of unused tissues (because that's what we're talking about here, unused, people). I once worked with a guy, back in college so he must have been mid 20s, who told me that a box of tampons in a woman's bathroom was as good as an international border. He couldn't even bear to reach his had over one. We're talking international border, airspace included.

It would be nice if people weren't so squeamish about this stuff. Which, as usual, means I need to also start acting more normal about it. But this is just me thinking. There will likely be no action taken. I'm not now going to go out and find a maxi-pad shaped iPhone holder or anything. But can you imagine pulling that out of your pocket and answering it?

Bedtime blues...and red (shudder)

Baby A and I had quite the afternoon yesterday. Let’s just say a lot of crying happened around nap time. And while I had a bloody nose in the morning from my cold, she managed a bloody mouth from something she did while seriously protesting being in her crib. I have no idea how she did that to her gums, but I was pretty freaked out when I first picked her up in the dark and saw dark red on her chin.

Other than those 2 minutes each of bleeding, we were okay, but in the middle of the 5-step process that she seems to need most days to fall asleep, I just realized I can’t keep doing that. It makes me tired of being a mom. Hold her, sway her, bounce her while walking, bounce her while sitting, let her roll around on the big bed to settle down. It is too much, too many options, and it turns her into a too finely-tuned baby. Not for her, but for me.

Really, as with most other realizations, it is a realization about myself, borne out of frustration. I’m not super-mom. I don’t have the patience, when I’m tired (especially then…I don’t do tired very gracefully), to go through all those steps calmly. I just want it to be over, at least for my part to be over. I want to sit down, lay down, just rest, even if on the floor. I realized it is okay for me to be the kind of person who is not so great when she is tired.

And while it is my responsibility to keep trying to get enough rest, and put sleep ahead of a lot of other things I might also want to do, it is okay that Baby A has to meet me a bit more towards center. Not because it is fair or not, but because I can’t do more than that sometimes. Because her mama is imperfect and that is totally okay. It is okay that I disappoint her sometimes and that she knows I’m not superwoman. And I think it is much better than being angry with her, for me to fall short of some of her ideals.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think my 9 month old baby should learn to put on her own pajamas, make her own bottle, or even scream herself to sleep. I just mean that I’m coming to the realization that it is okay that I may only have enough in me to sway with patience, and I don’t have to be embarrassed (and then angry at her for asking more of me), if she cries a bit more than if I could bounce and walk, too. This morning, she cried a bit in my arms, screamed a few times while arching, and then, as I kept really nicely calm and kept swaying, she readjusted once more in my arms and fell asleep. It was all I had for her, and it turned out to be enough. She met me a little bit closer to center.

We’re starting to read a few books (I know, I know, but they come recommended this time) about sleeping and babies. Granted, head hitting the crib bars or whatever that messed up thing is that brought about a bloody gum, we’re not going to let her go that far when we can help it. This baby isn’t made to be left completely on her own to figure out sleep. But her mama isn’t made to completely put her to sleep every night, either. And that is okay. She doesn’t have to make it to some classic, babble for 5 min and drift off stage. Because I don’t think she can handle it. And in our family, I’ve decided that it is okay for each of us to have some things we can’t handle and for everyone else to pitch in (in whatever way they can, big or small) on those issues. It is part of self-acceptance for Baby A, learning by seeing us accept our own limits. Without shame or guilt. Practicing being complete beings, just as we are.

My main point….I’ve come back to this paragraph after a day. My point is that I’m going to start acting like (and hopefully eventually believing that) my okay-ness, or good enough-ness, is intrinsic. That I start with that, just by being, existing. And that then my actions, my capabilities are okay and good enough by extension, and not treating the whole matter the other way around. Until now, I have spent most of the time judging whether I’m okay as a mom (or student, or woman, or person) based on my actions. And that just leads to a lot of harsh judgment. Kind of like what I read once about love. If you are constantly trying to decide whether someone loves you enough based on their actions, you’re going to constantly be either doubting or disappointed. They will always fail you in some way. Instead, if you start with the assumption that they love you, then you are free to look for all the other reasons that he didn’t bring you flowers or she didn’t get you that thing you like so much.

So, sleep is going to change somehow. We started last night by putting teeth brushing, face washing, and pajama wearing a bit early, and then all of us piling on the big bed in her room to quietly hang out until she got sleepy. So more wind-down for Baby A, less crying about being tired and having a diaper changed, and at least last night, a baby who fell asleep with 4 minutes of walking/swaying by me. That I can handle. We’ll see what else the books have to say.