Pregnant!?

No.  Not pregnant.

But I thought I was.

For three days I was slightly sick, just a little nausea here, up in the middle of the night in the bathroom there.  And on the third day it hit me:  this is very similar to what I felt like when I became pregnant with Celaya.  And in the hours that followed, leading up to my taking a pregnancy test another realization hit me:  I don't want another baby.

Of course, you ask, why have you been so careless to put yourself in the position of being pregnant, Shanna, if you don't want another baby?

I haven't!  I have been taking the birth control pill religiously, same time every night.  But this prescription for some reason does not work well with my body, so my menstrual cycle has been all over the place.  I haven't had one in two months.  Because I have been having this problem for several months, I wasn't too worried about it.

I even toyed with the idea of being pregnant again, how much I loved the experience.  I'd gaze at the infants with their mommies in the park while my rambunctious toddler climbed, tumbled, slid, and screeched her way out of babyhood.  "Ah," I thought, "I miss having a baby."

And it's true.  I do.  The ultra-dependence of a baby, the nonstop holding and snuggling.  My nineteen month old actually asks to be put in her bed after I read her books at nap time.  She doesn't want to be rocked to sleep!

I know.  I know.  I should be happy and proud that my daughter is confident and independent enough to put herself to sleep.  And I am.  Still, a part of me does miss those sweet, sweet baby days.

But in those hours of uncertainty, I played with my daughter, we took a walk, we read stories, she demanded to sit on the counter while I cooked, she insisted I draw squares, circles, and stars in various colors with crayons on the floor with her, she climbed all over me and lured me into dancing to the ABC song blaring from her toy laptop.  And I realized that my toddler is not fully out of babyhood yet. She still struggles to communicate her emotions.  She still needs help walking down stairs.  She has barely gotten to the point of independent play for ten minute stretches.  She is only just recognizing her own body functions and preparing for the trials of potty training.

I don't want to interrupt her journey into being a kid by trying to divide my attention between her and a high maintenance newborn.  I'm just not ready, because I don't think she is.

This realization came with another insight into my life and myself:  life is not trying anymore for me.

I started this blog because I was trying to have a baby.  Did that.  I was trying to get through grad school.  Did that.  I was trying to find my way in the world.  Found it.

Sure, there will always be things in life that I am trying to do:  be a better person, mother, tutor, teacher, wife, sister, and on and on.  But life for me is now more fulfilling than anything.

And so I am saying goodbye to this blog, and beginning a new one.  I haven't decided on a name yet, but I have decided that it will center on this firmly established, confident, content, and quite complex role I am now in, and all of the order and chaos that brings with it.

And I have certainly decided that I don't want another baby.

Not yet anyway.

Toddler Body

As I watch my child grow, I cannot help but notice all she is learning, absorbing, regurgitating every minute of every day.  Sometimes, I watch Celaya do things like tilt her head to one side and smile, that I know she got from me.  Other times, she lays down on the ground and makes the snoring sound, "ha shoo," that her auntie taught her.  Later, she'll demand "patio patio patio patio" (a word she learned from her father), and then go in search of her "uncle-uh" at his window from the outside where she has taken to giving him kisses through the screen.  She is growing so fast in so many ways, and lately I have really come to notice the change in her shape.

She has that classic toddler body now: bowed back, round puffed out butt because of the diaper, full round belly extending down from a more and more elongated chest and ribs.  Her chubby things and chubby arms just invite nibbling and caressing.  Her length seems to be stretching out daily, with legs dangling long past our waists now when we hold her in our arms.  She fits perfectly on my hip as I rush about trying to accomplish tasks that she cannot imagine allowing me to do with both arms free.

This shape is a really odd one though.  Toddler body.  Upon dissecting it, part by part, in attempting to spell out just how cute it is, I realize that it really is only cute all together -- and only on a toddler.

As I was noticing this adorable, cherubic, squishy, soft shape on my 16 month old daughter, as she tipped her head back and smiled her brilliant toothy smile at me, full lips above a double chin, I was simultaneously reflecting on the fact that it has been over a month since I have exercised with the intention of exercising.  That is, exercise other than chasing her little toddler body around the house or outside, other than running errands, other than cleaning house, other than the day to day.  In addition to this I was reflecting on how marvelous all of the wonderful food experiences have been in the last month with all the traveling I have been doing and all of the visitors we have had at the house.

And then I turned, and looked, and there it was, staring back at me from the mirror.  I was in underwear and a bra, getting ready for a shower, so it was unavoidable and undeniable.

Toddler body.

Needless to say Celaya and I added a 20 minute uphill walk to the park to our morning routine the very next day.

And I have sworn off salt water taffy as a regular snack.