I'm asking for trouble

I have been blessed so far with a remarkably easy baby. I have never deigned to give advice to parents of colicky or challenging babies. I don't take any credit for it. I don't think it's due to any superior parenting abilities on my part. I'm still a big fan of attachment parenting so if I were to take credit for any of her easy-going demeanor, that would be what I would attribute it to. But if at some point in the future we have another one, I'm certainly not expecting it to be this easy again. If it is, that's just bonus.

I was expecting the worst. I was studying for the bar exam when I was pregnant. When I was finally finished with the bar exam, I funneled that energy into reading infant books. I read a lot of baby books. Right before Mia was born I read a book written by an Austin writer who had a baby with severe food allergies. Talk about a challenging baby. Another book I read said that for the first week, just try to survive. For the first month, don't think you'll be able to do anything but take care of the baby. So, before she was born, I was expecting a newborn baby to be just about the hardest shit ever.

But it was surprisingly not hard. Not nearly as hard as, say, finals first semester in law school or taking the bar exam. Those were much harder. I'd have another baby before I'd take the California bar. Please, Tom, please don't ever make me move to California. Please don't make me take another bar exam. Please. I'm begging you.

In the beginning, I kept telling visitors, I don't want to jinx myself, but this is way easier than I was expecting. She never cries.

Now during those first few months, my life was hard. Being a single mom to a newborn baby was very hard. So, if it's pissing anyone off for me to talk about how easy my newborn was, just keep that in mind. If you want to compare griefs, I've got some big ones for you. Did I mention it was hard? But even that had a purpose. Since I did it alone for the first five months, I'm intensely grateful for Tom's help. But this is a blog post for another day. Back to my story...

The waking up to nurse every two hours was no big deal. I've never been a good sleeper. I wake up about that often anyway. It was actually nice to have something to do. I was so sad when she started to sleep three or four hours. I would wake up and watch her sleep. Nighttime has always been a lonely time for me. Having someone who needs me in the middle of the night feels good. I'll miss it when she doesn't need her nighttime snack anymore.

Nursing. Super easy. She was born. I put her up to the boob. She latched on. They've been best buds ever since. I would tell people who asked why I didn't give her bottles that I am way too lazy to make a bottle. (True) Maybe that's why she's being such a troublemaker at the boob now. Things even out.

That said, she is more challenging now than she has ever been. She still isn't a frequent crier, but she wants things. She wants the iPhone, the car keys, daddy's expensive MacBook. She lets us know how frustrated she is when she can't have them. She's highly mobile now so she requires constant supervision. Everything goes in her mouth. Open mouth, insert world. I walk into any room and instinctively scan for choking hazards. She gets bored more easily. Eating at restaurants is becoming more challenging. She won't let me feed her purees anymore except for banana and cereal. She wants to feed herself but she throws food. We have to give her one tiny piece of food at a time so she doesn't throw it all on the floor then cry because it's all gone.

But at the same time, she's more fun than she's ever been. Her face lights up when she sees me. She wants to show me things. She points at things then looks at me and smiles. She's experimenting with words. She's tries so hard to communicate with us. Sometimes I feel like a tour guide to a little alien. I'll be reading her a book and in the book there will be something she's never seen before, like a turtle so I'll explain what a turtle is. Then I'll take her to central market and show her the turtles. When we go on walks we talk about the things we see. "We call this a cactus. See these sharp points? We don't touch those because they hurt. One time when I was a little girl..."

I even take secret pleasure from her temper tantrums. I love that she is asserting herself. I love how expressive she is, how passionate she is. My psychologist friend is highly disapproving of this, but I can't help but laugh when she starts to throw a fit. It's just so darn adorable. But mostly I love it because more so than ever I know that she is fully her own person with her own wants, her own needs and her own agenda. She's already so strong. I can't help but beam. I am so proud of my fiery little redhead.