And now, rested, relaxed and rejuvenated from maternity leave, I’m ready to be articulate and entertaining once again. Like this:
Yeh, yeh, yeh. Oooh! Heh heh.
That is to say, I couldn’t be happier with our new little girl. But so far, she hasn’t made me any smarter.
But she has found several others ways to improve the world, despite being only two weeks old. For instance, she has accomplished:
Instantaneous Rejuvenation of Hope for Modern Yoot: I’m walking down the aisle in Walmart, and here comes a wave of teenage girls, with hard mouths and stick thin legs, ironed hair, nasty, razor-slashed clothing, eyes blackened with enough eyeliner to make a raccoon gasp in shame. They strut forward in a loud and arrogant swarm. Once they’re close enough to glimpse the top of my newborn baby’s feathery little head, and they all . . . collapse. They absolutely collapse and turn to helpless, gibbering, cooing froth, utterly powerless before a bundle of pink the size of a small loaf of bread. Phew! Western civilization isn’t over yet: girls still like babies.
Maternal Vanity Smackdown: I was delighted to fit back into my non-maternity pants a mere week after giving birth. Then I remembered that, the last time I bought pants, the stores were only selling that loathsome cut known as “low rise.” So, yeah, I could still button the button—but the final effect was less Mae West and more Hank Hill.
Maternal Vocational Vanity Smackdown: Everybody keeps saying, “Oh, it’s your ninth baby; you know how to do this.” So I’m sitting there, getting the baby dressed. I know how to do this. I take her gown off, take her pajamas off, take her onesie off, put the onesie back on, take the onesie off, put it back on . . . wait, what am doing? Not sure. So tired. All I know is, I’m like a shark: if I stop moving, I die.
Maternal Intellectual Vanity Smackdown: I had to admit that the guy who was screaming and gesticulating as he passed me on the left had a point: I should have figured out that, when the light turned green, I should have gone. Or, subsequent to it turning red, when the light turned green again, then I should certainly have gone. Or even, perhaps, when turned green yet again. I don’t know what to tell you—the sunlight was streaming in the car window, and I was so comfortable . . .
Shot in the Arm for Spiritual Honesty: Whether you’re stupid-tired from dealing with a newborn, or on the verge of hysteria in the throes of the last days of pregnancy, your mental state will make it very, very hard to pray insincerely. I had gotten four hours of sleep in 48 hours, and my husband had dropped me off at the lady part of the hospital for what turned out to be Not Labor so he could bring the toddler to the emergency room, because she was screaming in pain from what turned out to be Not Meningitis, but Toddler Crazy Neck.
It was then that I heard myself making what I intended as a humble and trusting act of faith: “Lord, I firmly believe that You have some kind of STUPID PLAN HERE . . .”
Automatic Penance Reduction: Show me a priest who hears, “Bless me father, for I have sinned—WAH WAHHH! WAHHHHHHHHH!” and I will show you a priest who wants to get to absolution ASAP, before he hears the other telltale newborn sound, one which proceeds from the other end of the newborn, and whose attendant olfactory effects linger when heavy velvet curtains are involved.
Exposer of Weak Points in Catechetical Formation of Other Children: My two-year-old freaked out, thinking she heard us planning the baby’s “bath-tism.” “It’s okay!” we explained. “It’s not really a bath! A baptism is a happy time!” “BUT,” she argued, “THE BABY IS NOT EVEN SANDY!” In toddler theology, a Bathtism is the sacrament that takes away Original Sand.
Source of Pure Warmth: Are you cold? Is winter getting you down? Do you feel like the whole world is dry, frozen, forgotten, likely to stay silent and cramped under a low, weary sun forever and ever and ever? Here’s a tip: pick up a baby who’s spent the night in one of those legless fleece baby sacks. Give her a little kiss on her petal soft cheek, admire the adorable little whickering noise she makes, and then unzip those pajamas. Whoosh! It’s like taking the foil off a baked potato. Eight hours’ worth of concentrated Baby Warm could heat the entire Eastern Seaboard for a week.
If, however, you are still cold, just spend some time admiring the little pink seashell of an ear, the tender whorls of downy hair, and those dear, foolish chicken legs. Or the milky, rumpled neck, or the rapt gaze from dark eyes just beginning to realize that the world is a very, very interesting place.
You will feel warm.
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I asked my three month old if Simcha is right about the heart warming effect of baby girls, and she paused in nursing long enough to give me a big, milky smile. This column is baby- and momma- approved!
So sweet! It almost makes me want to go wake up my baby and snuggle her. Almost :D
My youngest child is nine; when I read the part about baby warmth, I wanted to weep. How I miss that.
HA!!! Oh man. Tears in my eyes. I need you to stay on vacation longer so I can finish all these papers that are due…I cannot possibly read about Napoleon, Austria, technology, or socio-political revolutions when there’s stuff this fun on the internet.
I’m not quite to 9 but as a mom of 6, your articles have me in stitches almost every time.. because they are SO true! You need to write a book FOR priests so they can understand Catholic moms. You’d be the best person to do this. The book would have to be funny enough to keep their interest (as most men start to become distracted when a woman talks babies). :)
Favorite parenting memory: My then-4-year-old daughter running to pick up her baby brother after his nap. “Oooh,” she cried, “he’s so warm. He feels like a fresh-baked loaf of challah!”
Exactly.
And you can tell that she is one of my older children - none of my younger ones even knows what a fresh-baked loaf of anything feels like. The cooking thing - it’s gotten old.
Ah! The baby warmth! Somehow having a baby around this time of year makes Christmas all the more poignant. I found myself sniveling like a toddler the other day when I was feeding the baby and “O Come All Ye Faithful” started playing on the stereo.
I am so glad you are back! Thanks for this warmth on the darkest day of the year. God bless you Simcha and your precious new baby. Keep it coming. :)
Awwwwww! Beautiful! And funny. You have retained your pre-delivery talent for lyrical turns-of-phrase.
Oooo its ok to take a baby into the confessional? That certainly would make life easier (and more convenient) to go!
If all your posts here combined and did not make a delicious prose-poem about Mommyhood, I don’t know what would. Touching and funny, Simcha. Thank you!
Totally agree with Kaylan! Write a book for priests as well as dads! I often show my friends’ Facebook posts and articles like this to my husband so that he realizes I am not ‘abnormal’ in my hysterical prenatal & postpartum days.(which being pregnant/nursing for 9 straight years, I haven’t had a normal day yet!) Reading your articles, I don’t feel so alone in this world raising 7 children. Thank you for your humorous honesty! It gives me a new appreciation for this ‘lifestyle’! ;)
Praying for a peace-filled full night of sleep for you! God Bless you and your witness. Sniff that sweet baby head for all of us - someone once told me that’s what God smells like. :)
Allison, your priest would rather you be in the confessional with baby in tow than not be there at all.
Lovely! Funny, sweet, and yes, I feel teary at the thought of a baby, given that my baby is now 8 years old….It really does go by fast! I remember people telling me, “The days drag, but the years fly by,” and it’s so true. I remember wanting to weep in exhaustion when I had 5 kids 10 and under….then 6….And now, 8 years later, two babies are in college….
Ah. Bliss. Beautiful. Thanks for the gift. Enjoy.
YOU ARE BACK! Finally!!! :)
This was great! I’m expecting my first baby (a girl) and this makes me so excited. Congrats on your beautiful blessing.
Beautiful. Enjoy your babymoon. :) I’m still enjoying mine and he is already 4 months old…
Glad to have you back, Simcha. Don’t work too hard, though. God bless you and precious little Benny. Thanks for all the laughter and tears:)
Hmmm. I have a 4 month old, who is my ninth baby. I am 45, and was stunned to be having another baby. And yet…I get to experience that baby warmth, which makes up entirely for the panicky fear I had when I knew the little guy was on his way. And I have teen daughters, who have teen girl friends, and they make field trips here regularly, just to see the baby. My 18 year old son brings his friends over, too, so he can show them his brother. They all ooooh, and ahhhhh, but are afraid to hold the baby. Anyway, just wanted to thumbs up this post, add a hearty “here, here!” and thank you for helping me be grateful once again.
Bath-tism—Original Sand—too funny!
And to think, so many of us spent so many years trying to think of ways to AVOID the purgatory that precedes the bliss you are describing! (Does that even make sense?) It’s like going from the shadows into a burst of sunlight. Ohhhhhh how I get that. What I love is how God tweaks our ferocious spirits, so that we can start laughing about so many of the things that antagonized us when we were new Moms: “The baby peed and barfed on SIX outfits today!!” (hair on end) It’s so liberating to realize that what looks like foolishness in the eyes of many is not only fine, its blessed. But the best part of all was when I became domesticated enough to *greet* my lovely little being from heaven, when he or she woke me at 3 a.m. because I was *needed*. That surge of gratitude must mean surely that I am now closer to heaven.
I’m right there with you, sista. I am so tired from middle of the night newborn feedings that I don’t even know my name . . . or hers. But I am very warm, indeed.
Here’s to good a good eater and champion sleeper, as well as a source of warmth for mama!
Post-partum jeans ARE penance. Just let your priest know that in advance. I also found going to confession to a Franciscan with the baby can get you a penance of a full night of sleep. (I hear they’ll ask if the baby CAN take a bottle for ONE night.)
Simcha, you write it ... I’ll read it! You had me grinning from the start. Great Christmas gift to this priest, let me say! God bless, Merry Christmas.
My baby son is almost 4 weeks old, and these are all so, so true. Love it!!!
To Pimeeditor:
Patience. The Lord in His sweet goodness, sends grandbabies!
Holding and looking into the face of your newborn for the first time ... there is one other, which is equally magnificent: holding and looking
at your little one’s little one.
Sorry- I haven’t gotten past the singer (???) yet to read your blog… How did you run across him??
I may have to take a reader hiatus until your sweet baby is less new so I don’t have to keep confessing “baby envy.” Congratulations & God bless your family!
Congratulations!
Enjoy!
:)
-Also the 9th of 9
tears are streaming down my face….we are soul sisters, Simcha…
It was then that I heard myself making what I intended as a humble and trusting act of faith: “Lord, I firmly believe that You have some kind of STUPID PLAN HERE . . .”
This one will hold me through until Three Kings Day….seriously I truly cannot wait to hear the Lord’s side of this….
Benedicta Maribel…what a beauty. Good for you, Simcha. Good for all of us.
Yay! What a sweet, funny blog! I had to get over Mr. Russia up there and serve dinner, but this hits home on so many levels. Thank you!!
Our number 10 is on the way…looking forward to it all over again.
I loved the opening story about the teenage girls.
@ Busia, what sweet relief to hear you say that! I don’t think I can live without a baby in the house. I suppose there used to be an era when Moms were pregnant with their last, when their first child was pregnant with her first. Before I had my last three (four?)babies, my husband would say in exasperation: “Can’t you just wait for Grandchildren??” Even after that, he would hold our new baby, with a look of shocked wonder on his face and say: “My God! What love!” and I couldn’t help but think that it’s never a good idea on paper for the breadwinner who must support #7, 8 etc. I wouldn’t tell him how predictable he was, I’d just say “Thank me now,” and laugh.
Congratulations! I’m so excited that there is another Simcha in the world… or at least a baby girl with half your genes.
I have to admit to selfishly hoping you weren’t doing much in the way of maternity leave…I really wasn’t up for three months of no Simcha. Glad you’re back! I’m loving my newborn too, and you’re absolutely right about their amazing abilities. Especially the warmth part; when my husband irritatingly asks to hold the baby, I turn on my heating pad so I can simulate her warm spot while she’s gone. :)
www.lettersto.us
Nicely done. I shared this over at modestly_yours.
http://blogs.modestlyyours.net/modestly_yours/
Oh boy, I laughed until I cried over the two-year-old objection about the baby’s lack of sand.
Merry Christmas and God bless your new little one.
Utterly, completely MARVELOUS and a great gift. I especially lost it on the “some kind of STUPID PLAN HERE”!!!!!!!!!!!!
Simcha,
I’m a bit late on congratulating you on the successful delivery of your new one; but learning to navigate from a current column to past columns is not something that I had previously picked up.
Happy New Year.
TeaPot562
Congrats on the little Pink and Warm!
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