Becoming a Mother Afterall

Okay, so I think I am going to remove the password protection and just keep her pictures, or at least the majority of them, on Ainsley's photoblog. A few people already have the user name and password for it and if you end up wanting it, please just email me.

Jenn made an interesting comment. It makes sense, Jenn. Why would someone want to password protect their blog just to keep the creep-os from looking at their child when they could (and inevitably will) see them in public? I don't quite know how to answer that except to say that I feel like I have some control on who is looking at her in public. (at least at this age) With her pictures on the internet, I can't *see* who is looking at her and when. The hair just stands up on my arms thinking about it, really. I am not sure where this fear comes from, but I could give you some background on when I realized how many predators there really are out there.

In college, my undergraduate degree was in Social Work and Sociology. The FBI agent who arrested a famous pop star here in Las Vegas many years ago at a local hotel for various things, along with a disgusting set of child pornography, said that it made him sick to see some of the things he found in his hotel room. He, of course, did not disclose all of that information and I am certainly not attempting to piss off any fans out there. Personally, I think he has gotten away with so many horrible things all because of money and fame. He is a waste of breath.

Anyway, the same FBI agent told us that he began working many years ago for a unit that handled sexual predators and he began investigating many local cases of child predators. He began researching their behaviors, documenting the similarities, and looking for clues on how to catch other predatory criminals. One thing he said he learned when talking to another agent who apparently had, at that time, written a book on child predators, was that if you really open your eyes . . . you will see they are everywhere. The local fast-food joint, the street outside an elementary school, the mall, anywhere. The agent began taking note of men that loitered around establishments that housed children. He went to 10 local casino arcades and watched men standing outside many of them, staring at children. He took notes, observed behaviors. He became so aware of what he was seeing that later that month at his 7-year old daughter's soccer game, he noticed a man taking pictures of the game and he realized he was not a father of any of the girls. He approached the man. He asked who he was taking pictures of. The man ran. He was tackled by the agent and two other fathers. He had a long rap sheet and was arrested that very day. The photos? All zoomed in pictures of the lower half of the girls. Horrifying.

So, for one of my final projects, I chose five local places that I thought were public enough that I could observe without being noticed and places that all had varying ages of children around. I chose a local mall, a toy store, a large city park, a municipal swimming pool, and an after school program at a Boys and Girls Club. I went to each location at least 5 times over a two month period and at different times of the day. Sometimes I saw nothing out of the ordinary. But as time passed, I picked up on a few things. At the park, I took notice of a young, handsome man walking his dog on three different occasions. Each time, he started a conversation with a group of boys playing basketball. It was almost as if he steered his way to the courts to get their attention. Could have been nothing, but it could have been everything. There were other instances where I couldn't be sure, but that I just *had that feeling* that something was off with the person.

At school this year, we have had two instances where someone came on campus and attempted to approach a student. In one case, the man entered a portable classroom that was unlocked and grabbed the girl nearest to the door and drug her out. The teacher was able to wrestle the girl away and the police were called. He was, indeed, a parent of another girl at our location, but he said, "He thought the girl was his daughter." It wasn't. Because our school is under construction, I also approached a construction worker at the beginning of school that was clearly oogling two of my female students. I gave him the tongue lashing of a lifetime and reported him to his supervisor. I wasn't sure he would do anything, so I called the company, too, later that afternoon. Needless to say, I haven't seen him since.

Maybe I am overeacting some, but I just feel like it is my duty to protect Ainsley from these horrible people as best as I can. I know some other online friends only show pictures of their child when their face is turned. Some simply show them for a few hours and then remove the picture. To each their own. I am fine with whatever choices everyone makes. But for me, I just feel more comfortable knowing to some degree who is looking at her and for how long. Even in public, as I said above, it is hard to really see who is watching. And I know it is highly unlikely that anyone would be prowling blogs for pictures of babies. But I just have to say, "What if?" and treat her as precious cargo. She is the biggest piece of me and carries my heart. If I could always keep her safe, I would. Feasibly, this is something I do have some power over right now, so I will do my best to keep her sacred.

Okay, Grey's is getting ready to come on. I will work on the blog tomorrow. In the meantime, let me know your thoughts or if you would like a password to her photoblog. Happy Thursday!

Remember this guy? I had a stuffed one as a kid with eyes that rolled around. He was my favorite.

His funny picture is on the top of Ainsley's diapers, so when Mike was changing her this morning, I heard him say, "Ainsley! Look at Elmo!"

I guess it is a good thing she doesn't know any differently yet!

Dear Ainsley,

Please sit down in your crib. You are scaring Mommy. Yesterday you pulled yourself up on the humidifier and then held on with one hand while you cruised the outside of your crib.

Oh, and this not-eating thing? What is THAT about? You have been a little piglet since the moment I saw you, so why is it now you have no desire to eat? Is it the teeth? Don't you understand that if you don't eat now then you wake up your Mommy and Daddy at various times of the night to eat and it is not that we don't love you, but you would have slept better (and us) if you had taken care of this earlier. I know, mean Mommy. I love you, honey. But dear Lord, I am a walking sleepless zombie.

Love,
Mommy

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Dear Target,

Our relationship is officially over. It was so, so good. You gave me exactly what I needed and sometimes you even cut me a really good deal. Tonight, however, I met up with your evil side. Did Christmas make you nasty and unwilling to work with your customers? I came in to return three photo shelves. No, I didn't have my receipt, but all I was asking was to exchange them for smaller ones. But your policy is that you won't let me get anything that costs LESS than what I PAID, only something more expensive or equivalent. WTF? I didn't even want my change! You would have MADE money off of me? When I looked, there were NO CHEAPER SHELVES! And your manager, Mr. A.K.A Bad-Haircut, actually threatened to remove me from the store!!! Why? I didn't even raise my voice!!! Was it because he was suddenly faced with a voice of reason? P.S. Your bathrooms are disgusting.

Sincerely,
X-Customer

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Dear Mr. Science-Guy,

Is it worse to have pesticide sprayed inside my house or to have scorpions running around? Because I have killed two scorpions inside my house, feet from my daughter who puts everything in her mouth, since we moved in. Which is the lesser of two evils?

Sincerely,
Totally-Wigged-Out-Mommy-Turned-Bug-Killer

I am in a funk and that really sucks since it is Christmas time and I should be happy and excited and . . . merry. Below I have composed a list which I will entitle, "All Things That Make Me Scroogish and Un-Merry When I Should Be Otherwise".

1. My husband is sick. Again. And he is never sick. And when he is sick, he turns into this whiney version of Bart Simpson and I really just want to choke him because he wants help, but then doesn't accept it, but then wants Harry and David soup, but then says that it made him sick, but then he wants chicken, but then he doesn't eat it.

2. Ainsley's vocabulary has changed and I am starting to feel a little jealous of Mr. Bottle. She was saying very specifically, "Mama!" and "Dada!" to us. And "Ppppppp" for our dog, whom we tenderly refer to as a puppy even though she is older than God. She also said "bababa" for her bottle. When she has her bottle, she lovingly twirls it around and moans softly to it and then teases it a little and then shoves it in her mouth and pulls it out, stares at it, and laughs at it like it is her friend. Now? Now she screams, "MAMAMAMAMA!" at her bottle. "Bababa" is no longer apparent and of course "Dada" is still sticking around. Me? I am just that lady who wipes her butt.

3. There has been a change in administration at my school this year and to make a long story short, I am having difficulties adjusting to a new personality at my school. And I think she is out to get me. She has so far caught me on a multitude of things that she says I am doing incorrectly and today I balled my eyes out for half an hour because her comments make me second-guess myself and I shouldn't have to do that. My kid's test scores show so much growth. Apparently she thinks that is just a fluke. How is it that in one day I have two parents tell me that I have been the changing factor in their child's education and how they appreciate my hard work, but then she tells me that I don't engage my children during a lesson. WTF? I had perfect evaluations two weeks ago from the other administrator. And now half the school is ready to leave because she is hounding them about these miniscule, tiny things.

4. Ainsley is teething up a storm and is super-cranky. One tooth has broken through and the second is right there behind it. I am exhausted from not getting enough sleep because she wakes up crying a few times here and there, which in turn wakes me up.

5. I can't remember #5.

6. I need new brakes on the 4 Runner and I am stretched too thin because of Christmas.

7. MY Dad came and installed gates on our stairs for the baby, but he had to rig them a certain way because our stairs don't accomodate the gates well. Now I am worried she is going to go flying down the stairs. She pulled herself up last night on the bannister and then screamed because she couldn't figure out how to get down.

I am worn out . . .

My friend Brandy sent me this link that I am going to share with you in hopes that you will use the valuable information and/or pass it on to other friends with small children. I, too, have heard a lot of talk about how children have to go into a booster seat once they reach 40 pounds, but this is not true. Please watch the video and you will understand why. You will need kleenex.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=azgBhZfcqaQ

You may have to cut and paste the link - can't get the link key to work.

So, um . . . .

I have been slacking in the, how shall I say, the love-making department for a month or so now. Call it tiredness, feeling fat, or lack of drive, but I just haven't been feelin' it, much to my husband's surprise. Usually I aim to please and look forward to the chance to do so.

Last night, something came over me and I got my groove back. But I sort of screwed it up, and I don't mean that literally. Well, not really. Let me rewind . . .

We bought a new bed when we moved into the house a few months ago. It is a king and it is just lovely. I don't know how I ever slept on the other mattress, to be honest. But the bed we bought is slightly longer than the mattress - maybe it is a Cal. King? I don't know - but there is a small gap at the top of the bed where your head could possibly slip into, so we scoot the mattress up so the gap is at the foot of the bed.

Somehow during the fantastic show I put on last night, I managed to scoot the mattress down and the gap at the top widened without my knowing it. And at just the right moment, you know, the most important moment of the show, when it is my duty to get off the stage, my hands sort of slipped into the gap at the top of the bed and I wasn't able to leave the stage . . . in time. Do you feel me? Is this making sense?

At first, we both just looked at each other and giggled. "Oh well," Mike said. "People have kids that are fifteen months apart, right?"

(Coughing, choking fit)

So as I laid in bed last night and counted the days, I had to get up and reference my old FF charts. The day I usually ovulated?

I hit it right on the button.

Here is to a different kind of two-week wait. Holy crap.

Dear Ainsley,

You are 6 months old today, pumpkin! Six months ago today, right about now, I had dried my eyes for the upteenth time that day and the doctor called me on his phone from another surgery to talk to me about the possibility about having a c-section with you. To be honest, I was tired of having all of those nurses and people poke me and check me and I wanted so badly to see your face. I was disappointed, but it didn't matter, sweetie. A little after 9 pm, I got the best gift of all when I got to see your beautiful face and cover you with kisses.

These six months have gone fast. You have changed so much just in the past few weeks, it is unbelievable. You started daycare a few weeks ago. I cried all the way to work that morning. (Well, and on some subsequent mornings. Okay, so I still cry.) But you love your teachers Ms. Nina and Ms. Kristi. They have a lot of experience with little girls, as they have many of their own. At daycare, you painted your first picture yesterday. It is a masterpiece and I am already convinced you are going to be the next Van Gogh. As soon as they take it down from the hallway, I am framing it and putting it in the house for everyone to see.

These days you love to play with your toys. Your favorites are stackable rings and any kind of ball, as long as it rolls and you can stick it in your mouth. You are still in love with the dog, Chloe, and when we say, "Where's the puppy?" you look for her. In your exersaucer, you bop up and down to the music and follow the dog around the house and scream at her in hopes that she will come and lick your face. One of these days you will get a hold of her tongue and she is never going to speak to you again. You also like to look up at Daddy on the second floor and have recently started holding your arms out to us.


Crawling has become your new goal, but at the expense of your cheeks and knees, which are red and rough from all the face-diving and scrunching along. You have recently begun holding your bottles and yesterday morning, you threw it across the room and then attempted to go and get it, screaming, "babababababababa!" Was it bottle? Who knows. Then you angrily looked at me and screamed, "mummmmmmmummmmmm". Was it Mom? I think you know. Dad thinks it is a coincedence. He immediately picked you up and said, "Say Daddy! Say Daddy!"

I have said it before and I will say it again. Your Dad and I's lives have been enriched by you. You are such a happy, sweet soul who makes me a better person. I curse the red lights I hit when I am going to pick you up everyday and I can never seem to get there quick enough. Seeing you light up when you wake up in the morning is the best thing. And lately, our nights together of gentle rocking, celtic music, and whispering sweet nothings in your ears are moments I would not trade for the world.

You are my angel. It felt like it took forever to get you here and now that you are, I cherish every.single.moment. There is a line in a movie called "City of Angels" where an angel relinquishes his eternal life to be with the woman he loves. For me, I hear the line that is said in that movie over and over, and I have told you it before, through my tears when I am overwhelmed with how much I love you. "I would give it all up for you", sweet Ainsley.

I look forward to seeing how much more of a little lady you become in these next few years. I love you so much!
Love, Mommy