Metal Meredith

Just Ask My Mom

I am not sure why. Typically, these are just gifts from my parents. Not birthday or Christmas, but when gifts go beyond reason. I love getting presents. There just seems to be some sort of guilt that trails just behind them, where it gets close enough that I can smell it before it washes over me. Just when I get that first whiff, I start to unravel all the things I have done to deserve said gift and all the things that I have done or said to not. It is a battle within my head that cannot be won, just compartmentalized for later contemplation.

This month alone I have received so many gifts. Phil gave me a trip to London and to Amsterdam for our wedding anniversary, much of which was sponsored by other monetary gifts. My grandfather is funding the removal of a wall in the house; mom is making up for the rest. Dad just came down and gave some chairs to Phil for his new office; at least I didn�t have to feel too badly for that. But of course, then he stayed and bought us lunch.

I have many friends that have no problem dropping a few bucks here and there for a surprise gift. I often do the same. I am the person that will tell you there is no reason to reciprocate a gift from someone you don�t want to give something to. But if I was on the other end of the receiving, my gift conscience wouldn�t let me live with it. In fact, I quite enjoy giving gifts without the expectation of someone dropping money on me in return. I like the feeling it gives me to give them.

So why do I feel my chest start to get tighter every time mom throws down a credit card? I grew up with parents who had no problem paying for us to eat dinner out a lot, bought us new things all the time (my sister and I both got cars when we turned 16, I was lucky to be the younger one, as my car was new) and made sure we had most things we needed.

Maybe I am still not over the fact that I don�t think I was appreciative enough in my younger days when I was getting all these nice things. Lord knows I was more thankful than friends and my peers. I grew up in a school and neighborhood where everyone�s parents seemed to be coming into their own salaries. Many people my age were driving brand new cars and many of them were totaled or best up by the end of their first year. I wasn�t alone in having the nice car, but I was in my appreciation of it. I remember crying when I got it. I had no idea that I would be getting a brand new car. The GUILT!

My mom was telling me today that my inability to graciously accept a very generous gift is something that drives her nuts. But really, what is worse? My acceptance of every gift and always hoping for a little more or me feeling a little sick and a lot nervous watching the numbers on the cash register rise while purchasing some kid�s clothing?

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year

Its Christmas Day 2004 and Vivienne has just gone to bed. Phil and I have surveyed the damage and dutifully decided to deal with it later. We are both exhausted.

Mom and Mitch came this morning with more boxes and bags than I thought would have fit in one vehicle. I opened the door to a moose singing Christmas Caroles. We ste some brunch and opened presents. I was none to happy to see a Hokey Pokey Elmo come out of a gift bag for Vivienne. We had been so successful up to this point with not having one in our home. Its noisy and plays the same thing over and over. But I am learning this is a right of passage for any new parent. The Grandparents win, because they do anything they want.

I was relieved, if not giddy, about the Dyson Vacuum that I got! I have already done the house and was disgusted but strangely proud of the amount of dirt I picked up. I am not a woman who appreciates fine jewelry or furs, but give a really nice household appliance and I am in heaven!

After they left, Vivienne ate some lunch and took a well deserved nap. We cleaned up round one and waited for round two, Dad and Nancy. They arrived around 3pm, Vivienne woke at 330 and we started all over again. Vivienne was treated to a dancing Boobah, those horrible puffy creatures from the cartoon that dance and spin. This was noisy toy number two. Clearly, there was a theme. Vivienne was riveted to both toys, carrying them from one room to another back and forth and back and forth. She danced, played with her new toys, ate some cheese and crackers, played with old toys, and wore everyone out.

Dad and Nancy left at 6pm, we fed Vivienne, Phil gave her a bath while I tested out the Dyson. Its now 830 and we are both ready to pass out. Luckily, tomorrow is quiet with visits only from Ruth and Leroy. Vivienne is very lucky to have so many people that love her. Phil and I are so thankful at this time of year that they are all able to visit. Vivienne enjoys every minute of the attention.

I was asked by my Father to write an essay about being a mom and how it was different from being a mother. I have included this on the next page (under the more section) for those of you who might enjoy the read.

I also was forced to disable the comments section due to some spamming by online casino websites. Not to fret, we will have that option up and running again.

I hope you all had a very wonderful Holiday. Happy New Year to you and yours!

Love,
Meredith, Phil, and Vivienne

Tales of Motherhood, Woe and Dreams

The dictionary definition of a mother is simple; a woman who conceives, gives birth to, or raises and nurtures a child. Although I fully understood this, I didn�t realize how much of a difference there was between �mother� and �mom�. It is yet another secret that all moms hold close to the breast lest it convince you to sterilize right away.

When I first became pregnant, many people came to me with vague advice like �Enjoy your sleep now, you won�t get any after the baby is born� and �Your whole life is going to change, I mean CHANGE.� In my heart, I knew both of these things going in. But no one could have prepared me for the onslaught of emotion and raw feelings that having a baby would create. No one, no matter how wise or well versed on the subject, prepared me for the mountains of guilt, passion, sadness and love. It did, in fact, change my life. For better? For worse? I am not sure from minute to minute, but I do like the title of �mom�.

The most telling pre-pregnancy occurrence was my concern about becoming a different person once the baby was born. I had heard, on more than one occasion, that having a baby �changes you�. I have to admit, I was pretty happy with who I was.  I was so scared that I would become that woman; the over-scheduled, SUV driving, over-achievement pushing, over protective and my-child-is-all-I-can-talk-about mom that I disliked so much. I was afraid of losing who I was, my identity disappearing when that tiny head finally popped out of the womb.

�Bye-bye me. Nice knowing you,� as I wave to the former cool, fun Meredith that I had grown to love. I am still, 18 months later, stunned that this did not happen.

Phil and I often sit and talk about changes that have occurred in us since having Vivienne. Not the obvious things, like no time, less patience, less money, but real things. Phil has become a big weepy man. He cries at movies, commercials, books, videos and pictures. Sometimes he just cries because he is in love with her so much. Did I mention he used to lovingly gaze at me that way? Not anymore. It is all for Vivienne.

After Vivienne was born, I was on an adrenaline high. I was so proud of myself. I was more in love with Phil than ever before. The look in his eyes, the pride and admiration, after seeing me give birth was astounding. It is one of the best moments of that entire experience. I roamed the maternity ward halls like an Olympic runner. My medal was the baby in the nursery and my body immediately recovering from giving birth. I was a super-woman. I was THE Super Woman. I watched the other moms waddle and stop part way down the hall to lean against the wall on their long journey to the nursery. I witnessed husbands transforming into human crutches for their wives still in so much pain.  Not me. No sir, I was practically skipping to see my new baby.

After I experienced my first Holly Hunter moment from Raising Arizona, in a quiet room alone with Vivienne and crying and crying and thinking �I love her SO MUCH�, the real terror began. I had to change a diaper. You see, I was not raised around babies. I have few cousins and none that lived near by. I only really babysat older kids. I was a novice at baby hygiene.

Luckily, Phil wasn�t. He was there, took control of that first diaper change when I was scared to touch her. I didn�t want to twist something wrong, yank something too hard, or get poo on me (truthfully). Phil took over and, like a Nascar pit crew tire changer, had her clean and powdery fresh less than a minute. I stood watching; knowing that this won�t get easier and there will always be something that makes me feel inept. This was the first real lesson on being a mom, there is no out.

No matter how hard it gets, no matter what you know and don�t know, no matter how scary or uncomfortable, you are in it for the long haul. This was an easy lesson to comprehend but I am still coming to grips with its reality.

The more intense feelings of being a mom come directly after the baby was born. It comes in many forms, but is known widely as �Mother Guilt�. I wasn�t expecting it, yet another secret kept locked away from the new moms.

Directly after Vivienne was born, every decision I made had overwhelming weight. With the simplest of questions, there were major consequences on which to dwell. If I stopped breastfeeding, am I the WORST mother in the world? Will my baby grow up to be an under achiever? If I decide to work, am I hurting her growth? If I don�t put her in a daycare or a playgroup, am I stunting her social skills forever? There were so many new decisions and so many new things to consider, I was dizzy with all the spinning in my head.

Eventually, I came to grips with the fact that this was just another description under the job title. Guilt came with the territory and you can either crack underneath its weight or deal with the big ones as the come and dodge all the small ones. So far, it�s working.

Often, I look back on my own childhood to see the clues that become how you define the title �Mom�. The way you are treated as a child, the role your mother plays in your life are all intertwined with what you have learned from other moms, gleaned from any talk show and article ever referenced while pregnant, and decided long ago based on sheer will.

Memories of my own mother start with her rocking me in the rocking chair, singing �You Are My Sunshine.� This was the tune she picked to put me at ease and it�s worked since. Whenever I was sick or hurt, I could rely on the rocking chair and that song to make it all better. I find myself doing the exact same thing with Vivienne now and I am not surprised that it calms her down just as quickly. She sniffles her boo-boo away and I smile with satisfaction of having had a super mom moment.

I consider all the other mothers I look up to in order to better define �mom�. These women, who have all accomplished what I considered acts of heroism in raising their own children, are my role models for daily life.

Mary, my sister in law, has four kids. She is home schooling all four, she is a full time taxi between baseball games and dance recitals, practices for two boys in different baseball leagues, and dance championships for her two daughters. She is non stop. When I used to look at her, she seemed nuts to do all she did. Her kids live in a house that resembles a Toys-R-Us store, every game and stuffed animal, every Barbie and tractor, every new kind of candy and novelty food was present and accounted for. Those kids wanted for nothing. Yet, they were not spoiled.

When I was pregnant I made many a crying phone call to her about how she ever lasted through the second pregnancy while caring for the first. She was very sick the whole time. She told me something that I had heard before, but it must have been the first time I ever really heard someone when they uttered the words. �Meredith, I did it because I am his mom�.

What she was telling me was that she woke up everyday and took care of her son. If she was sick, if she was not able to lift her head, she had to find the strength to do it. There simply was no choice. This was being a mom.

I have a good friend, Stacy. She has three kids. She really does do it all. She is a stay-at-home mom who also watches many of her friend�s children. She has been my hand-holder throughout my pregnancy and my first year as a mom. She was on the phone with me, at home with me, guiding me and offering support when needed.

Recently, I had the chance to watch Stacy make some tough decisions regarding her children�s schooling. Brian, her oldest at 5, starts kindergarten next year. He is really excited to go to school everyday and learn. He is social and interesting; loving to read about new subjects (he is on Star Wars right now, not believing that I had my own Millennium Falcon, because 1. I am a girl and 2. I am old).

Stacy has been torn for months about what to do with Brian when it comes to Elementary School. She always has envisioned herself a home school mom. But she knows, no matter how much she wants to keep him home and close, he wants to be social. So she has decided, after much discussion, consideration and heartbreak, that he will attend elementary school with all the other kids.

I was so impressed by this obvious show of support for her child�s interest. I made a mental note of how much it takes to measure your child�s educational success against his happiness. She chose happiness, and I am still grateful to her for the lesson.

In order for my to fully explain myself as a mom, I had to reflect on how I came to be one. From that first pre-pregnancy concern of losing my identity when I had a child, to realizing that my dreams are happening in real time, I have experienced first hand what changes between �mother� and �mom.�

Three years ago, I was set on finding a job in Los Angeles, California. I dragged Phil out on �vacation� to meet some prospective companies, to check out living possibilities and to get a feel for if we could do it. I was chasing my dream of becoming the Public Relations Representative for a major label band. This was what I was gunning for. I loved being on stage with a backstage pass around my neck. I loved being glared at by girls who were jealous at how close I was to their precious rock stars. This is what I wanted and where I wanted to be.

On September 22nd, 2002, I had a revelation. When I met Phil, I wanted kids. I knew that nothing in my life would ever measure up to raising a family. I knew that no amount of fame or how close I got to all of my rock star crushes would matter once I was surrounded by a loving family. I decided that this was it; this was my time to have a child.

When Vivienne was born I realized that this was my new life. I loved being a mother, I have come to understand that I am not the old me anymore and I am fine with it. In fact, I am better than fine, I am aglow with it. There is a light within me that only shines when she is near me. There is an unspoken amazement between Phil and I that often manifests in language such as �Can you believe we made that?�

This is my new dream. I have waited so long to finally understand what being a mom is about. I can tell you that I have been woken up by a sigh of my newborn daughter and jumped out of bed more than 15 times in one night to go look at her. I feel a pain deep in my soul when I check on her each night, knowing that tomorrow she will wake up one day closer to leaving me. But, it�s such a wonderful pain. Many times I have heard having a child described as someone ripping your heart out and giving it legs. It is so exactly that.

I never thought I could love and hate something so tiny. I never thought I could be crying and laughing at once. I never truly understood the joy and pain that goes hand in hand with being a mother. This, in my definition, is what a mom is.

It is by far the most taxing, most aggravating and most thankless job I have ever had. But by far, it is also the most fulfilling. I found this quote and was utterly amazed at how well this sums up motherhood:

The world is full of women blindsided by the unceasing demands of motherhood, still flabbergasted by how a job can be terrific and torturous. - Anna Quindlen

To read the first half and nod is to be a Mother. To continue on and laugh at the second part is to be a Mom. 

Well, everyone keeps telling me how they have checked out the baby pictures on Meredith’s website and I have to keep saying, “But wait! It will be soooo much better real real soon...”

Well, it finally is! I am happy to announce the redesign of the MetalMeredith.com site!

I’m not sure if it counts as a redesign since the original was pretty much just hacked together to get some photos of our newborn up for an anxious audience. At any rate, this one is super-slick and features lots of ways for Meredith to get words and pictures out to friends and family without having to wait for me to get home and fire up the HTML editor.

Say hi if you want - Click the “comments” link below.

Enjoy!