Tag Archives: Love

Feeling like a mommy

Feeling like a mommy

It’s such a strange thing to become a mom. From one day to the next, you become a mommy. It’s not just about creating a life, it’s about all the mental, emotional and physical things that means. I wasn’t quite ready to define myself as a mommy. I mean sure, I had made a person, but all the things that go along with that title didn’t quite seem to fit. But they do now.

Harley hasn’t quite developed separation anxiety, a normal thing in the coming phase of her life, but it’s getter there. She’s now happy to see me, excited when I smile at her. She doesn’t scream right when I put her down or give her to someone else to hold, but she is increasingly aware of me, of where I am and what I’m doing. She can’t say mama yet, but I can see it in her eyes. She knows who I am, and she’s happier when I’m with her. And I adore being with her, too… most of the time. Continue Reading

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Mourning after the death of 49 babies

I’ve been trying to avoid thinking too much about the events in Orlando. Here in South Africa, I could be a world away, and yet it’s feeling deeply personal this time. I feel it on so many levels, and I wasn’t sure why this mass shooting felt so much harder than previous ones. But then I saw a post that made me realize why.

My Facebook is filled with outrage, support, memorials and other posts. But this one nearly brought me to tears this morning. In the early hours of the morning, the young man texted his mom to say he loved her. He was hurt, hiding in the bathroom and ultimately gunned down. And I’m sitting here with tears in my eyes, holding my little princess Harley, feeling like I can barely breathe. Continue Reading

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How raising a daughter is making me rethink feminism

feminism kid

My mom was a hilarious feminist when I was growing up. We still laugh how when I was potty trained, she had offered to buy me ANYTHING I wanted, and I asked for a Barbie. This made her so conflicted, and she ended up buying me Doctor Barbie; when I’d comment on how pretty her hair was or her pretty dress, she’d tell me “She’s a physician, a respected member of the community!” – we still howl with laughter. When I was a bit older and wanted to wear eye shadow, she said that first we needed to “discuss the political ramifications of makeup”- one of my all time favorite phrases to this day.

It was all part of her quest to raise me as an empowered and confident woman, something that I want to do for Harley as well. While I’m not as worried about dolls or makeup, I am worried about the world I’m raising her in. I recently read a brilliant article about a mom’s take on the whole transgender bathroom debate. For her, it has nothing to do with bathrooms, she isn’t worried about  her daughter getting assaulted in the ladies room. No, she’s worried about the statistical likelihood that her daughter will be pressured into underage sex, or drugs, or drinking. She’s worried about the statistical likelihood that her baby will be violently raped before the age of 35, that she’ll be a victim of institutionalized sexism. Continue Reading

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How could I already forget?

forget with time

Harley is my cuddly little bear. She seems to be getting a bit clingy, which honestly is fine by me considering this weather – it’s so nice to cuddle up with her and keep each other warm and happy. While she is hitting milestones and definitely growing up, I still see her as my tiny little person, my little baby. But this weekend I realized that she really isn’t so little anymore.

We went to go see our friends on Saturday to meet their tiny person who may or may not already be betrothed to Harley (their surname is Davids, so if she marries him she’ll be Harley Davids… and if she has a son with him he’d be Harley Davids’ son. That’s enough reason for an arranged marriage, right?). He was only 12 days old, and weighed less than 4kgs. He was beyond tiny, and adorable, and helpless – just a little newborn. I got to hold him, and it was amazing to remember that Harley was that big not so long ago. In fact, she was way smaller. How could I have already forgotten how that felt? Continue Reading

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What a visit from my mom taught me about how I want to mother

mothering a mother

It has been an interesting journey, this mothering thing so far. I’ve thought about a range of things, from not letting my baby “cry it out”, how I gauge our time together, how I assess her progress, and even when and how I will start weaning her. I knew I wanted to raise a genius and a bookworm, as well as a woman who is strong and empowered while still compassionate and loving. I have so many big dreams for Harley, and so many ideas about parenting. But the latest visit from my mom has solidified a bunch of them, and expanded some others even more.

A bit of context – my mom and I are close. We have obviously had our fair share of squabbles or whatever – I don’t know any woman who matures to adulthood without having the teenage fights with her mom – but we got very close when my parents divorced. After my traumatic birthing story, we talked every day on Skype, and have continued to do so ever since. So we are “caught up” as far as telling each other the day to day stuff goes, but also as far as talking about the bigger issues or stories. But it’s still so different being in person. Continue Reading

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