FUN MOMMY

We had a wonderful Christmas break. Ok at first Leander was ill. Then me. There were some really rough days. But still. We had a lovely break. Just the three of us. Probably for the last time. Ever. I can not put into words how much that freaks me out right now.




The countdown says it's only 18 days to go until the due date of the little baby sister. So basically it could happen any time. And I'm torn. Torn between being excited and happy to walk this journey altogether again but also being sad and terrified of having to split my time and energy between two children. I have no doubt that I will be able to love them both as much as possible. I don't fear loving Leander less than I do now or being able to feel for his sister any different. But what about those 24 hours a day has. Not a second more, no matter how much I wish for it to be possible.

I'm also torn between wanting another 6 months of pregnancy just to be alone with Leander and his little sister to arrive RIGHT NOW so this whole walrus-life finally comes to an end. I'm not that big and round. But I feel big and round. I move slowly. I need a toilet around every corner. I can't hop up and down on the bed. I can't chase him around anymore. I can't drive his cars and trucks around the living room without aching and puffing. I can't join the boys to go to the swimming pool or spa. And I have my moments. When all of this occurs to me and I want to scream and be fun mommy again. When I want to jump into puddles with him because I used to loooove this as a kid AND as an adult too. I want to stand in front of every sparkly shop window and look at the bright and shiny Christmas decoration with him without needing a toilet or having the feeling of the baby falling out any second. I want to go to the parks and forests around Vienna to be closer to nature than just in the dusty grey city but portable toilets for the pocket have not been invented yet. I don't want to hold and protect my belly when lying next to Leander on the sofa.

But the worst part is - how do I tell him? I don't want to mention the baby all the time. So I'm tired. I was ill - ok that was reasonable. I'm exhausted. And yes - sometimes I just DO have a baby belly that stops me from doing things. And now Leander is saying things like:
"Mama - no toilet no???"
"Mama - not tired no???"
"Mama - where are you???" while I'm sitting right next to him.

So - where am I?
I'm in a place of letting go. I have watched the two boys here bond even closer over the past few months. Fun Daddy who takes him out when it's too much. Who goes swimming with him and who picks him up when he is too tired to walk the stairs to the top floor. I am happy for them but I feel left out at times. I feel like losing my little boy although I know this is not true. But when will I be back?
The baby is coming soon. She will need me. A lot. If all goes well I will be her main food supply during the first 6 months. I will spend the mornings with her and the afternoons with her and Leander. If I am lucky I get to spend some time in the evening with Leander. When he is tired and exhausted from his day. And I will be tired and exhausted too, let's face it.

Jesper Juul, a wonderful Danish educator, said that it is important for the first born to have lots of quality time with his dad. Because both are missing those moments with the most important woman in their life. They are sharing something common. So yes - they are lucky to have each other. But it is tough for me to watch that and not being able to do much about it. To let go. For a while at least.

But somehow I hope it will work out. And that despite of less sleep, my baby brain and the challenge of being calm and respectful to two children and a husband I will be fun mommy again. Soon.

Any experiences and advices are highly appreciated. Thank you!

SUPER DADDY

Apparently Superman isn't wearing a cape - but his baby. At least that is what I was invited to promote on Facebook recently. And it wasn't the first post that praised Daddies who wear their babies. Despite the fact that I dislike the saying "wearing a baby" especially in relation to "showing off" and "being super Daddy" - because that's what those posts implement if you ask me - I don't think that any child would say that their Daddy is great, cool or wonderful because he has "worn" them as a baby.

Instead my Dad sat me on his lap in the car when he drove me to the creche in the village we were living back then.
What else he did I don't know but probably not too much. That's the impression I get from the stories my Mom and Dad tell me. And well, since they got divorced when I was only 2 years old I can't really rely on any of their stories because they are mixed with their feelings about their own relationship at this time. But I can tell you that:

My Dad didn't spend regular weekends with us but he was there for our birthdays and Christmas. During winter and summer holidays we spend weeks at his parents' - our grandparents'- house in the countryside and he came and visited us there quite often.

From what I remember he cared for our education and later kept asking how things went in school. He was there when I finished High school and supported me throughout my studies - despite his opinion that women don't need to study at all. Yes - he has his views on life and I have mine. Many of them differ but we know that, we talk about them and we respect them.

When I split up with a boyfriend he asked me if I wanted to talk about it.

When he calls me he knows within a minute how I feel and even says things like: "I hear you are not in a good mood. Do you want to tell me or shall we talk later?" I am 34 and it still surprises me how well he knows me.

When I was a student I regularly went to visit my Dad and stayed with him for a night or two. It wasn't rare that we'd spend the night talking up until 1 or 2 a.m. And by talking I don't mean the weather. He told me about our past. About his divorce from my Mom. How he felt back then and what went wrong. He told me his feelings about my brother's sudden death and about everything I am doing. He talks about his parents and their relationship. And I know that I can tell him everything. He knew when I was in therapy and he knew that it would do me good.

When I was little my Dad took my brother and me to football matches or other sports events. I always thought he did that for my brother. But I enjoyed it too and later when my brother was dead he still took me. At some point I realized that he loved to go to sports events and enjoyed it that I joined him.

I was the only one supporting his crazy hobby of riding a motor cycle like a maniac until the age of 60. I supported his crazy decision of buying a new one after he crashed his and was flown to hospital where I visited him at the ICU. I won't deny that I was relieved when he sold the machine but I also knew that if he would have died riding it - he would have died doing something he loved.

He loves his grandson and is sad to live that far away so he barely sees him. He does not agree on all parenting decisions we go for but he tells me that, we talk about it and he respects them.

He supports my decision to ditch my Diploma and the job I had and I studied for with (partly) his money. Because he wants me to do something I am happy with.

He has the best sense of humor - one, that sometimes only I understand.

So no, my Dad may not have been the best Dad when I was little. He cheated on my Mom when she was caring for their children. But that is their story. When it comes to what - FOR ME - was a good Dad I wouldn't trade him for the world.

And therefore I don't care if a Dad is carrying his baby in a sling or pushing him in a pram. I wish for every child to have a father that - from birth on - tries to understand him and his feelings. That is a person to look up and talk to. Talk about the good and the difficult things in life. One to laugh with but one to be quiet with too. One to share joys with. And concern. One that knows his child. Even if that means getting to know him again and again over time.