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In the movie Lost in Translation there is a scene in which Bill Murray's character explains that, upon having your first child, "your life as you know it is gone...never to return." The movie has been one of my favorites for years. I just wish that I had known he meant my life.

In early 2010, I gave birth to the world's most perfect child. (Is there a parent who doesn't think his/her child is the world's most perfect?) In addition to being beautiful, he is brilliant and sweet and funny and hands-down the best thing that will ever happen to me. This kid is my entire world. I had somehow suspected through most of my life that he would be, which is why I fought very hard to have him. But about the post-childbirth apocalypse, I had absolutely no clue.

To say things have changed would be misleading. EVERYTHING has changed. Most of it has been good--some not so great--but everything is without a doubt different. And now the world changes once again. My little family and I find ourselves journeying from the big city to beautiful, calm Montana. Will the change be for the better? As with anything, the answer is sometimes "yes," sometimes "no," and always sought with massive quantities of hope. Come with me as I navigate the roads from fast-paced, big-city lawyer to Montana Momhood. Is there a line that can be walked? We'll see. But I can guarantee, at a minimum, it will be an adventurous road trip....

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Re-Jected

I am most certainly no stranger to rejection. No.  Let me rephrase that.  I have been rejected by everyone and everything from Dusty Cladis to Tylenol.  And, trust me, neither of those examples was pretty.  I have been rejected by boys, by men, by jobs, by friends and (most frequently) by alcohol.  You get the picture.

So lately my kid is going through a phase.  I have learned from my friends who have older children, as well as various NBC shows, that my child will go through many phases.  During this particular phase, we are experiencing crazy highs as well as lows so insane, they make Lindsey Lohan look like Hillary Clinton on the respectful citizen level.  He has molars coming in, he can't quite talk, he can't quite keep up and all of this is both exciting and really, really frustrating for him.  As a result, about 15 times per day, I get the most delicious hugs and kisses and smiles and giggles that make my life worth living.  And about 10 times per day, I get rejected faster than Gretta Van Sustren pledging to be a Tri-Delt.  The kid swings so fast, I have learned to simply look at him like he's nuts and walk away.  This, of course, results in a flood of tears (his and mine) followed by the pulling on the pant leg which I will take for "I'm so sorry mom" until he can say otherwise.  In short, I'm used to it.

But my poor dad isn't.  As I have mentioned, he LOVES being Grandpa, and the kid couldn't love him more.  The baby toddles out to peek into the back parking and see if Grandpa's truck is there, the first thing every morning.  He adores the guy (but, really, who doesn't).  The two of them are inseparable.  But.  Because the baby is going through his...thing...there are the rare occasions when Grandpa gets the brunt.  Case in point?  The other day the kid tried for Grandpa's glasses.  This happens a lot--he is obsessed with glasses.  Maybe he'll marry Tina Fey; who knows.  Anyway, Grandpa said loudly "no" and took them away.  You would have thought he had smacked the kid (which, for the record, he would never, ever, ever do).  The baby screamed and cried and when Grandpa tried to hug him, he received a big old smack himself and the baby ran to me.  Ouch.  Rejection at its finest.  I seriously think it hurt my poor dad's feelings.  I felt (feel) awful.  I tried to explain that the baby doesn't mean it, and my dad clearly understands.  Plus the kid was toddling after him again within 3 minutes.  Seriously, to him, nothing ever happened.  But I could tell it bothered Grandpa.

These kids.  Man, are they a head trip.  I don't care who you are or how secure you may be--if a child you love gets into your head, you're a goner.  Not even your high school soul mate sleeping with your math teacher can equate to that kind of rejection.  And it can hurt.  A lot.  But the nice part is, nobody you have ever met can love you the way they can.
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