In case you wondered...

If anyone is wondering how things are between C and myself or how I find being a stepmom, I think this picture says it all. This is the only existing photo of myself, C, and all three of his kids. In other words, it's the only photo of the entire "family."

This photo was taken overlooking Kinsale during our recent trip to Ireland.

A Slice of Apple Pie and Loving Life

I had the most wonderful day today with my girl. I'm thoroughly enjoying my week's hiatus from work. Work has yet to contact me about the new script and I'll confess to be worried (pink slip anyone!) but to have a job where I've got one week free each month is a fine job indeed!

So onto my wonderful day which started with Eliza's first tumbling class. I learned today that at 22 months, Eliza is the size of an average 15-month-old. There was one girl in the class Eliza's age and she looked like a giant compared to my kid. I'll add that this child's mother isn't much taller than me. Eliza was nine pounds at birth. It seems like that will be the only time in her life where she's in the top percentile for height.

Eliza is particularly agile, at least that's what other people tell me at the playground. I attended the class today, I'll admit, expecting the teacher to notice some kind of fantastic athletic ability in my daughter. Instead she seemed mildly annoyed that Eliza wouldn't focus during storytime. Eliza had a wonderful time jumping on the mini-trampoline. Overall the class wasn't bad. I wish there wasn't storytime, that the trampoline stayed out the entire class, that we didn't end with some lame parachute game. I've said for a while that Eliza needs a class where she can jump up and down for an hour. When she started with the trampoline today, I thought for sure we'd finally found paradise. When the trampoline was pushed against the wall for storytime, I realized paradise is always a quest, not an actuality.

Eliza noticed the deception herself. When the lights came back on after storytime, Eliza stood next to the upright trampoline and said "Jump. Jump."

Nevertheless, we enjoyed the class and our subsequent trip to the playground afterwards. it felt like August, not the end of September. Eliza jumped through the sprinklers, dug in the sand and bounded up the slide.

Later, we joined a friend at another playground. It was painfully humid at this point but I seemed to have developed a tolerance for hot weather. Eliza didn't mind either, sprinting across the park with reckless abandon. A girl, approximately ten years old, took a shine to her and asked Eliza could play "family" with her and two other friends. I watched them tow Eliza around the park, this slim, leggy girl either holding Eliza's hand or carrying her. At one point, all the girls gathered on the bench and Eliza sat on this girl's lap. After this girl, who said her name was "Bluey," left, Eliza managed to befriend two girls, approximately four years of age. These girls also wanted to play family, in their version they took Eliza to the zoo.

I kept a pretty low profile while Eliza hung out with her new friends. The other day, my nanny was here and I confess to being a little jealous while Eliza squealed with delight during some unseen game. I adore my nanny so I'm pretty disappointed with by my immature feelings of resentment. I often wonder if I'm going to be one of these mothers skulking about the school yard because I can't handle the reality of my kid growing up.

I still wonder if I might be like this. But today, I could only smile by my daughter's good fortune, by her spirited, charming personality that draws kids of varying ages to her. I was content to hang in the background and watch her from afar.

So maybe I'll be a grown-up and let her go when I have to. As much as I took pleasure in my daughter's popularity, I'm supremely overjoyed by our magical evening together tonight. We had dinner, I chased her through the apartment, we read bookies and sang songs (oh, she is such a little singer!). Nothing special but I'm still smiling from our evening.

Right now, I'm eating a slice of delicious apple pie and a glass of lovely white wine. I realized as I downed the pie, I really love my life. I really love my girl.

"Read, Happy Birthday"

I got home from work in the wee hours of Saturday morning but I was so happy to know I'd be home for a whole week with my girl that my exhaustion wasn't a factor. I couldn't do much more than a short trip to the playground and a lot of couch grazing on Saturday but we still had a wonderful day.

The weather has been gorgeous and promises to remain so for a few days. Yes, I am thoroughly enjoying my time with my girl but full-time Mom also comes with it's own dose of challenges. Eliza's in a screaming phase. I spent much of today watching her hurl herself onto the ground and cry real tears because no, I would not let her play with the dental floss. Or the toothpaste. Or the hot pan on the stove. Or my cell phone.

We had a great time at the playground but when it was time to come home for her nap, she thrashed, she writhed, she made her stroller slam into some innocent bystanders as I tried to buckle her into it. These tantrums don't last long, in fact I find them quite amusing, but it's not the corny song/running in the fields kind of day I pictured.

And yet, the big, happy moments, when they do come and there were many today, the stars shine, the sky echoes with heavenly choirs, my chest surges with joy. As I read to her tonight, she picked up one of her books and said "Read, happy birthday."

I looked at the book and said, "This isn't a birthday book, it's about Easter."

Eliza then pointed to a cupcake in the hand of one of the characters on the cover and said "Happy Birthday." I thought for sure my heart would leap with joy. We had birthday parties two weekends in a row so she's learned to associate cupcakes with "Happy Birthday." Or she thinks cupcakes are called "Happy Birthday." Either way, it was just so smart, so sweet, I hope she hasn't outgrown this phase by the date of her next "Happy Birthday."

Indian Summer Joys

It looks like the Sun Gods are working with me next week. According to the extended weather forecast, my week off from work looks to be a week of sunny skies and 80 degree temperatures. Long days at the playground soaking up the sun and fun evenings of chasing Eliza across the grass. Indian Summer has arrived at exactly the right time.

Of course, the weatherman has let me down before, promising sun over days of rain, but I'm going to be optimistic about this one. I've already cued the sappy music over mental images of myself and Eliza running through the park.

Yesterday was a lovely day with a high near 85 degrees. Knowing about next week's forecast got me thinking about her summer clothes which I still haven't put away. I realized that I didn't see Eliza at all yesterday, that I have no idea what she wore on her excursions with her nanny. It felt so weird, realizing that a whole day passed and I didn't see my daughter at all.

Now, I wait for her to wake up so we can spend some time together before I leave for work. Friday's my longest day at work. Last Friday I got home around 2:30 am.

Tomorrow is forecasted as another wonderful day. Again, I see Eliza and myself running along the river, her head thrown back with laughter as the sappy soundtrack drowns out all other noise.

The Answer to the Question, How to Do Everything Better

Have a kid.

I got off work early again this afternoon and did some shoe shopping. I would have loved to spend some extra time with Miss Eliza P but since returning to work, I've noticed my fellow co-workers regularly dress in clothing not stained with tomato soup or yogurt. Their shoes are surprisingly scuff-free and look like they weren't discovered near the cash register at Rite Aid.

In other words, when Mama returns to work, the nursing shirts and Birkenstocks go out, sleek unstained pants and shiny boots are in. So I tried on a pair of low-heeled black boots, you know the kind that pretty much go with everything, and quickly handed them to the salesgirl. She swept up the oversized box and gathered the tissue paper. I started to stuff the rejected pair of boots with tissue paper and the woman laughed and said, "You don't need to do that." I yanked the peds off my feet and was about to stuff them in my purse when she snatched them from me.

"I'll throw them away."

I smiled and thanked her profusely. How does this story relate to the title of this entry?

I realized how much more considerate I've become since having a child. Not only do I try to help out, but I want to. I'll admit it took me a long time to adjust to my role as a non-stop mess eraser. There were many nights I stooped below Eliza's high chair after dinner and cursed under my breath as I scrubbed the floor. Now, I barely notice the piles of rice heaped on the floor, the never-ending pyramid of laundry, the sand that finds it's way into our apartment after a trip to the playground sandbox.

I've discovered patience, a word I barely knew the meaning of until now. I've become more confident, more empathetic, kinder. Even after my "talking to" after work last week, I had no problem approaching my boss at the end of today with a request. I know I'm doing a good job and feel I'd be difficult to replace.

I never felt this confident at work before. People are desperate to get into my line of work. I've grown up in the television world to know that 50 people could do my job and are only a phone call away. Suddenly, I feel invaluable.

As a mother, I feel like I'm finally a grown-up. And truthfully, it's a great way to feel.

Home early, now where's my kid?

I raced home from work early today only to find my apartment empty. This also happened on the day when I left for work without my cell phone. Sure, I could call my nanny from a lanline at work except I only have her number in my phone and in the little Mom datebook that doesn't come to work with me. So I came home to a dark room with no idea of which playground housed my daughter. How nice it would have been to be outside on a lovely afternoon with my daughter.

Oh well, next week. Next week when our show goes on a glorious hiatus and I get to spend most of my time with Eliza. I hope we have nice weather so we can enjoy our time to the fullest. We had a wonderful weekend of birthday parties and outdoor evening get togethers. I am very, very sorry to see the summer end. How quikcly the months fly by!

I'm feeling a bit lonely out here in blogworld. It seems that most of my readers have checked out or have failed to comment lately. I know I've been lax about writing but I've really had very little free time. While work is okay it's been kind of lonely being away from my girl. I need the support of the Mom community I've found here so please chime in if you've got time. The job is okay. The show is new and with any new show there are a lot of problems and challenges. My boss spent the better part of the morning screaming at various co-workers--never a good sign.

I have outgrown my particular position. It no longer offers me any real challenge or job satisfaction. At this point it is little more than a paycheck. Although I enjoy the people I'm working with and it's nice to be out of the house, there's a feeling of pointlessness to it. Television is not an easy field to break barriers and move into another position. Truthfully, most people get stuck in one position or quit. There are people who manage to advance, to achieve their goal or at least get somewhat close to it. I am not even close there and I doubt I ever will be. I'm trying to be positive and hope that something breaks for me on this job but I'm not overly optimistic.

Eliza had her first mini-meltdown when I left this morning. She's handled the transition suprisingly well. Now I suppose that the novelty has worn off and she's confused by my being around on the weekends, then not being around during the week. Today is bearable because I saw her in the morning and I'll see her tonight. But on the days we shoot (three days last week, two this week), I didn't see her at all.

This week we're only shooting two days! And next week I'm off for the whole week! So in my world, the world of television production this is one sweet deal.

My nanny just called to say she's on her way home with Eliza. Oh, how I can't wait to sweep that little body into my arms and be Mama!

Big Space

I'm exhausted from my first full week of work since Eliza was born and I've still got one more day to go! Friday is the longest day of my workweek so I need to sign off shortly and rejuvinate for the 16 hour work day that waits with my alarm clock.

Tomorrow (Friday) will be the first time I see Eliza since Tuesday night. Both Wednesday and Thursday involved my leaving and returning while Eliza was in bed. I'm not criticizing anyone who works and spends time away from their children but two days in a row is too much for me. I had my nanny put her on the phone today and I as soon as I heard that tiny little voice that doesn't even resemble the boyish little girl I know, I cried. Between various bouts of babble and silence, I "spoke" to my girl who didn't even sound like my girl.

Never mind the new words I'm missing, the last few days of summer she's spending in the park without me, the meals we're not eating together and the "bookies" we're not reading. I looked at her sleeping form when I got home tonight and felt an emptiness so deep I don't know that two hours in the morning with her before I set off for work will cure it. My boss took me aside yesterday to tell me I don't seem happy and that's a problem on her set where she encourages a "nurturing" environment. I felt like telling her if she wants a nurturing environment, she should set up some day care. But my need to see my child, that's not her problem or concern. I smiled, said I was indeed happy and promised to do whatever I could to make it work.

I made a commitment and I keep my promises. If they decide they want some one else, that'll be what's supposed to happen, that's all.

In news that feels related because their absence contributes to the big space that exists between myself and my loved ones, I've not heard from my friends who moved to Israel for over a month now. I recently sent them an email urging them not to forget me. I've yet to hear back. They've been gone for two months. As the weeks pass, that void opens up and unfurls like fire.

The sooner I go to bed, the sooner I get to wake up and spend some time with my precious, yummy, delicious little daughter. Good night.

Back to Work Blues

I don't have time to write now that I'm back to work which is a problem. Writing has always felt a bit like a lifeline to me. Like anything, there are pros and cons with my return to work. If I'm fortunate enough to get home from work before Eliza's bedtime, her radiant smile is the highlight of my day.

Pros:
Paycheck (Thursday, 13 hour day; Friday, 15 hour day=big paycheck)
Conversations that don't start with "dirty feet" or "yucky apple floor"
A reprieve from hourly wrestling matches that end with a clean diaper in my hand and a naked baby scooting across the floor

Cons:
The two days last week I didn't put my daughter to bed
Leaving for work on Thursday at 5:30am
Getting home after 1am on Friday and no I wasn't at the bar
Missing the sound of my daughter's laughter
Not knowing if she understands that I'm doing this for her and that I'll always, always, always be there for her

The best thing about my first week at work:
When I went into her bedroom right after she woke up on Saturday morning and saw the best smile in the world, ever. Oh my, how the word priceless can't possibly do that smile justice.

Missing Baby

Today is Labor Day, the day that officially ends my time as a full-time Mom. I actually started work on Friday but being that it was only one day and a short one at that (8:30-5p), today marks not only the last day of summer but the official end to my full-time Mom status. Eliza and I have had a wonderful weekend and I look forward to another day of joyous discoveries with her. I am only sad that for the rest of this week, I'll probably see her for an hour in the morning and that's it.

C took the other kids to his parents beach house this weekend. Having recently returned from eight days in Ireland, I couldn't deal with the prospect of getting Eliza back to a routine, finding a nanny, starting work and taking another trip all in the same week. C begged to take Eliza with him and I do feel badly that his parents didn't get to see her this weekend, but I didn't want to be without her on the eve of my new work schedule. He had the choice not to go, to stay here and be a family for the final weekend of summer but he opted for the weekend away.

Perhaps it's selfish of me but I really needed the time with Eliza to say good-bye to this time at home with her. Although I've been ready to return to work for a while, I've so loved the time she and I have spent together.

Last night, I took Eliza to the South Street Seaport to get ice cream. We set out in her little stroller and headed for the carnival-like atmosphere of this riverside Mall. Eliza appears to be a chocolate fanatic (who isn't) so I bought a cone of chocolate, chocolate chip and removed her from the stroller to share it. While Eliza enjoyed the ice cream, she seemed distracted by the band that played nearby, the throngs of promenading people, the lovely summer night. When the ice cream was done, Eliza raced down the three steps between our bench and the band and shimmied with a Dyonisian fury.

Eliza's always been a fabulous dancing baby to watch, but last night was really something special. The music made her wild. She'd run up the three steps, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle then run down the three steps and twirl around. She threw her head back to the sky, shimmied down to the ground, spun around with her arms out to the side like Mary Tyler Moore and jumped up and down repeatedly. Two middle-aged woman seated on the bench Eliza and I used for our ice cream watched, clapped, cheered Eliza on and laughed. People walking by looked at her and smiled. I grinned with them, so into the moment, so into my girl. Whenever the song stopped, Eliza erupted with applause. I was so proud of her, so elated to be with her. I'd never seen her so carefree, so wild, so free.

I am so glad my daughter has discovered the joy of abandoning oneself to music. This is a joy I've always known. Any time I felt complete despair, all I had to do was turn on the right music and soon I'd be twirling around the room. I would have loved to dance alongside Eliza myself last night but I couldn't, not in that crowd. Besides, I loved watching her, loved being an observer to this great moment. My kinship with the two women on the bench was my way of participating in this wonderful, magical night. At 21 months, my daughter clearly loves music. She loves to sing, she loves to dance. I am so grateful she's already discovered a real passion.

Work was pretty fun on Friday and I feel fortunate to have landed this job. But boy, am I going to miss the day-to-day moments with Eliza, and frankly the one-on-one time. Now, whenever I'm home with her, C will probably be around as well. It's going to be a big adjustment for me, I was pretty used to having the run of the house while he worked. Though I'm glad to see he's taken (finally) a bigger interest in his youngest daughter, I'm not only going back to work, I'm letting go of her. Her father and siblings have discovered what I've always known, that my daughter is amazing and wonderful, and now they're eager to spend more time with her. She can't get enough love and she can't be the center of my universe so I'm heading back to work and kind of ceding my moment as the hero to them.

But I'll always treasure this wonderful, exhausting, dream-like time of just me and my girl. Bye bye little baby. Hello little person.