(Sorry R.S., couldn’t resist on that last one…)

A hint to all you future parents out there: the sleep deprivation and time crunch you will experience after the birth of your child does not help this situation. I think I may need to place a disclaimer on all of my e-mails telling readers to contact my son if the contents are nonsensical, unreadable, or otherwise completely messed up.

Come on, guys. We’re better than that.

But before I say what I’ve got to say, let me just say this to the media: everyone knows already. Let it go.

God only knows that after the last four years, I’m not for sweeping crap under the rug, but seriously? The only reason this is still such a story is because you people are keeping it there. Yes, I’m sure the McCain campaign did do a nasty by releasing the information when everyone was worried about Gustav, and I could say a whole bunch of cynical (and probably true) things about that move, but that is all beside the point.

The point is this – a young woman is pregnant, she has chosen to have the baby, and it is none of anyone’s business but hers and the child’s father’s. Period.

Being pregnant is hard enough. Having a child is even harder. Being a new parent? I don’t think I know of anything in the world harder than that, quite seriously. It’s wonderful, but it’s very, very difficult. And doing it all at 17 is going to be enough of a personal challenge for this young lady – the fact that she is going to have to do this under a microscope is unfathomable.

It’s ok if you want to look at what the campaigns may have done based upon their bases’ anticipated reactions to the news, but I think you’ve done enough looking.

Can we not move on to important issues?

(And, for the record, I think it would be equally shameful for the McCain campaign to point to the pregnancy as an example of Palin’s conservative values – this is about what Bristol Palin has chosen to do with her life, and while it’s criminal to use it to attack anyone in the presidential race, it is no more acceptable to use it to laud them.)

Seriously, guys – leave the girl and her upcoming new arrival alone. All of you.

In any event, that’s beside the point. The first time it caught up to me was grad school, where I heard it described many times as feeling out like you started out a semester behind, and it only got worse from there.

But nothing, I repeat nothing, compares to the vortex of lateness that swallows you when you have a baby.

N-O-T-H-I-N-G.

The worst part is that you’re so tired at the end of the day that you tend to only do things that require little time and attention, and you put off the important things until later, when you can spend the time on them they require.

For me, this means that, for example, important e-mail/snail mail to people I love gets put aside for a later day if it’s something that’s going to take a while, and I’ve realized, now that Torsten is a whopping 7 months old, that “a later day” may well mean “never” if I don’t start doing something about it.

So I’ve decided to start with the e-mail queue. Three a day until I get through the backlog (or the apocalypse arrives, thus wiping out my inbox for me). JoAnna, Christie and Quisha, you’re first on the list. And if there’s not something in your inbox from me by, oh, say, tomorrow morning, you are allowed to beat me and/or tell embarrassing anecdotes about my youth as a guest blogger here.

If that doesn’t motivate me, I don’t know what will

Especially regarding sleep.

You see, there’s not much sleep that goes on the first month or so, and then gradually, you (and your partner, if you’re lucky) work out ways to get some sleep as the baby gradually starts to sleep more.

Ah yes… the baby starts to sleep more, lulling you into a false sense of security, and you think… whew, thank God we made it through those first few months, because seriously, we thought we were going to lose it.

But what no one tells you is that you’re going to go through that first sleepless period again and again and again.

Like when your baby has finally learned to roll over from back to tummy, and starts doing it in his sleep, stranding himself like a reverse turtle and waking up to fuss. Or when he learns a new consonant sound and just has to make it at 4:30 am, because 4:30 is a great time for “mmmboo… mmmboo… mmmboo…” (although, to be fair, the neighbors thought 3:30 am was a great time for the bongo drums just before this happened, so I can probably blame them for last night, at least).

Ah, yes, we’re reliving the good old sleepless days again, because our Mr. T here has a little body that needs to work on some developmental stuff, even when he’s sleeping, and his little brain can’t sleep through it.

And it is now that we find out, through the wonderful power of the Internets, that we have a couple of weeks of this return-to-sleeplessness ahead of us while he practices rolling over and getting off of his tummy (or falling asleep on it), and that we’d better just get used to it.

So we’re tired. Really freaking tired.

But the best part is this… I then stumbled on this little gem which says that not only do we get to start all over with the sleeping now, but we’ll get to do it again when he sits up on his own, and when he stands up on his own, and, well, all of the big developmental milestones during the next several months.

I mean, it’s great that he can now move himself around a small portion of the room by squirming and rolling, but couldn’t that wait for, you know, that day star thingie to be visible? Please?

(On second thought, since we’ll be in Scandinavia next month, I probably should take that back – the number of hours without the sun being visible will be considerably less…)

Sure, parents for whom this is old hat will tell you after the baby is born that you’ll sleep again when your kid is 25, but they don’t tell you what they mean.

Aaaaaargggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…

(N.B.: If I weren’t sleep deprived, I’d be writing a post about how cool it is that Torsten is on the verge of being mobile and is making consonant sounds other than /g/ and /ŋ/…)

So when I say that I read somewhere that around the 4-5 month mark, most parents start to feel as if they’ve emerged from a cave and begin to start to see glimpses of the life they led before the baby, I mean that I read it somewhere. Like maybe Parents magazine. Or the back of a can of formula. Or a diaper advertisement. I have no idea.

That said, it is true. All of a sudden, life is returning to something which, if not normal, is at the very least human. I’ve been writing on my book all week for the first time since Torsten’s birth (and my spectacularly impossible post-C-section last-minute NaNoWriMo win), and I’ve decided to enroll in a CELTA certification course next month which will presumably eat all of my non-sleeping time for the month of May so that at some point after the summer I can either teach ESL/EFL part-time here in the area or can privately tutor foreign students. (Note that I can only do the course right now because Christian is a) officially on paternity leave, and b) a really nice husband…)

Oh, and this week I got to plan a few days of research in London while we’re in Europe in August. Muahahaha.

In other words, for the first time in months, in addition to being Mama, I get to be Krista too.

Not that I don’t love being Mama – I love being Mama – but it’s sort of exciting to be able to be doing other stuff too. A Mama who is also Krista is a better Mama for Torsten to have – I’m sure of it.

And let me repeat this: my husband is awesome.

And since then, well, let’s just say I haven’t done a whole lot of blogging, and when I have, it’s either rants about politics (which no one wants to read), or my monthly letter to the baby, and there’s not much in-between! And so, to mitigate the lameness of my mommy non-blogging of late, I decided I’d post a little update on how my induction into mommyhood is going, and what’s up with Torsten and the German Family Grothoff (which would not be dumb enough to get shipwrecked), since even though Mr. T’s 4-month anniversary is coming up soon (hrm… is it still called an anniversary when it’s a monthly thing? anniversary comes from annus, meaning year, so that’s lame…), who knows when I’ll get that written?

So…

The in-laws are here and have been for the past three weeks. Yes, yes, I know many of you predict the End Times when hearing the mention of in-laws and multiple weeks occurs (and indeed, I would have at one point too), but it’s actually been a very pleasant visit. Torsten loves his grandparents, and they’ve been having a fantastic time. Also, his grandparents have been so kind as to take the little guy for hours at a time so that Mama and Papa can sleep/leave the house/actually shower, so it’s been good to have them here. This house is a little small to have so many people comfortably on top of each other (and I am notoriously grumpy about invasions of my space), but they’re staying in a hotel, and are very happy to spend time with their grandson, so it’s all good.

Well, except that they have the plague. Or something equally yucky. Torsten’s Opa got it first, and kept his distance from the little guy. It seemed like no one else was going to get ill, but now Oma is apparently so ill she can barely make it to the bathroom, and even Papa is starting to feel unwell. This is, as they say, not good. Even though Papa is going to start sleeping in the living room until he gets better, my suspicion is that it’s only a matter of time until the little guy and I come down with it, and given that Papa has a very full week next week, I predict that I will not only be sick, but I’ll be running the show with a sick baby at home as well, which will suck.

Of course, I might be wrong. I really, really, really, really hope I will be. If you have any personal deities you might consider asking to intercede for the little guy and me, I’ll dedicate some stale Peeps in your honor.

Oh, and Happy Easter.

Mommyhood is actually being pretty good to me. With Torsten approaching four months, I’ve been able to return outside and see the day star shining, often with the little boy in tow in the stroller or Baby Björn, and sometimes even by myself. I’m a little depressed about how hard it is to lose weight right now (I’m only nursing part-time because, well, I don’t produce much, but unfortunately, I’m still as hungry as a regular nursing Mom) and how pregnant I still look, but in the grand scheme of things, it’s not bothering me much yet.

But the first three months, for me, were sort of like living in a cave. I didn’t get out much, and was too tired to do anything except care for the baby anyway. I always had messy hair, often didn’t get dressed during the day (just didn’t have time), and was walking around in a sleep-impaired daze. Christian was still doing almost all of the housework, and I was just trying to get through the day after not sleeping much at night, since I’m the one with the breasts. It was pretty rough, really. Plus the weather sucked, so going outside with the baby wasn’t much of an option, especially since we’re carless.

But now, now Torsten wakes twice a night (three times if we’re unlucky), so there’s at least the option of a lot more sleep (I can’t bring myself to fall asleep with him at 7:30, but I know I should…), and he’s much more portable. Also, I’m much less afraid that something I’ll do will break him, which makes things easier. He seems to like getting out of the house with me, and is napping more often during the day. I seem to be able to find time to actually put pants on, have a cup of coffee, and even pick up around the house or toss laundry in, often with Torsten playing next to me in his high chair and us having a little conversation, or with him strapped onto my front observing and directing (during housework – obviously not with the coffee or the near-daily ritual donning of the pants). So things are looking up.

And I love being Torsten’s Mama. Torsten himself is just a bundle of smiley cuddliness, and he changes so much from day to day that it’s hard to keep up. He’s been losing his hair, but already it’s growing back. He gets longer and longer each day, and Christian and I both noticed one day that his hands had gotten bigger overnight. His big blue eyes are simply gorgeous, and if you follow them, you can tell how engaged he is with the world. He “talks” to us all the time, and squeals excitedly, and smiles smiles smiles. He’s intensely curious about people and the world – I took him to the cathedral the other day and he loved looking at the stained glass and the shapes of the arches – and he’s a great deal of fun to play little games with. He’s controlling his head and limbs a lot more, and grabs toys on purpose to chew on. He’s also figured out how to do some things with intent rather than by accident, and he’s just generally a beautiful, joyful child. I feel incredibly lucky to be his.

I’d feel luckier with more sleep, mind you, but eh… it’ll do.

People aren’t kidding when they say becoming a parent changes everything, or that you’ll love your child more than you ever knew you could love anything. Those things sounds obvious and a little trite, but the reality is about as mind-blowing as things get. And when people tell you you’ll be exhausted and stressed, you’ll think later that they were understating things, but that’s only because there’s no way to express the depth of those things either in a way that communicates the reality of the situation. And one thing no one ever said to me, anyway, is that it takes a little while to settle into the person you become when you become Mommy or Daddy, and that stranger still, you’re both the person you were before and someone you completely weren’t. I just now feel like I’m starting to settle into that person and a little less like a person lost in the chaos of joy and exhaustion and worry and surprise our now-pretty-big little bundle brought with him into the world.

I have my better days and my worse ones, like everyone else. On the days I feel like an incompetent parent, it’s pretty hard. Even being a realist, it’s hard not to want to always know how to do the right thing for your child. And God forbid someone start talking about developmental milestones, because you’ll start panicking that the baby isn’t doing something a month before they’re supposed to be able to (or, as happened to me, a been-there-done-that friend made an off-hand remark about development and I took it to mean that she thought Torsten was somehow behind – she didn’t, of course). On the days things are all going well, it’s hard to imagine that there was ever a time when I wasn’t this child’s parent. It is the best, most gratifying thing I’ve ever experienced, especially when I see his joy at discovering something or just his happiness to see Papa or Mama in the morning. He’s four months old, and he’s the most amazing person I’ve ever met.

On all of those days, bad or good (even the most desperate ones), there’s not a moment I wish we hadn’t had him. I can’t imagine life without him (though I can imagine life with a few extra hours of sleep ).

Anyway, it’s late and I’m starting to blather, so I’ll shut up now, but things are still rolling along here in Mommyland. Mama herself needs to get some sleep, since we’re taking Torsten to get some pictures taken tomorrow morning and she still has to do some laundry and stuff, hopefully before Torsten wakes for his first night feeding…

Good grief, 3 months already, and you are totally your own little person now. Now I see why people say their kids grow up too fast – you no longer look like a newborn and you can do all sorts of cool stuff.

My favorite of your new skills is “The Tongue Game”, where you stick out your tongue, and Papa and I stick ours out in response, and you giggle and stick yours out again, etc etc. Just to see that wide smile spread across your face is enough to make my day.

You are also a Morning Monster, as opposed to Mama and Papa, who are monsters in the morning. You smile and giggle and let us know just how happy you are that we are here when you wake up. This only proves you are a space alien, but we are keeping you anyway. You’re too snuggly to give up.

You have a new favorite toy as well, and Mama is just going to have to used to it. Mama got you a Peek-A-Boo Elmo gym, and Elmo is now totally your favorite thing. You watch Elmo and giggle and talk to him, and you kick and kick your feet with glee. Mama is not a big fan of Elmo, but she is quite sure she’s going to have to give in on this one. As long as she doesn’t have to love the abomination known as Barney…

But the biggest set of cool new things you can do has to do with how you can move. See, from the time you were born you’ve pretty much hated tummy time. Hated it hated it hated it. If there is one thing your mama has done that could have made you sell her on eBay, it is giving you tummy time. Mama was sort of worried that you’d never learn to lift your head up or crawl, and that she’d therefore be schlepping you on her shoulder until you’re 35. You’re snuggly and all, but at 35, c’mon… Anyway. Finally, this month, it’s gotten to the point where you sort of tolerate it. At first you’d just lie on your tummy with a patient look that said, “Ok, she’s totally going to pick me right back up again. No problem.”

(As usual, click to embiggen – the pictures are MUCH cuter that way.)

Sometimes you’ll even talk to Mama, although you start to get grumpy pretty quickly.

Then comes the tough stuff – pushing up that huge noggin’ full o’ brains you’ve got. Up until a couple of days ago, you didn’t keep it up much farther than this for very long:

But shortly thereafter, you’d clearly decided you’d had enough. Poor little guy Mama is so mean!

But then the day before yesterday, lo and behold, you held that head up for a really good while, laughing and giggling, and then – get this – you rolled over. Twice. And now you’re starting to try to get your head up when you’re on your back. It’s happening all at once, I tell you, and it’s scary! No pictures of the head holding or the rolling, just video that Mama hasn’t bothered to learn how to upload yet, so I guess that comes later.

Oh, and you looooooove to talk in the mornings now with your beautiful little voice. You’re so much fun

So you’re an active little guy in the mornings, and you only seem to want to take little catnaps on Mama… Mama will put you down for a nap sometimes when you fall asleep at the breast and 10 minutes later I see this:

That’s right, with no shame at all, you, Mr. Houdini, slip seamlessly out of your swaddling blankets and have the nerve to grin at Mama for being awake when all Mama wanted was a shower for the first time in um…. n days, where n might be greater than 2, but we’re not saying by how much. And worse, it makes Mama grin.

Oh, and as for smiles, you are Mr. Smiley these days, even to folks you don’t know. You really seem to like those nice people at church, and Oma and Opa who are visiting, and the faces in the baby book, and Mama when you’re on the changing table at 5:30 am just before or after a feeding and she’s really hoping you’ll come back to sleep with her (that smile says, “Good morning, Mama! We are so not going to sleep! We are going to play the smiling game, and then we’re going to snuggle and I’ll try to climb up your front, and then I’m going to squeal in my highest-pitched happy voice to ensure you aren’t asleep anymore! And then maybe we can read some books and play with Elmo before you throw Papa out of bed in a couple of hours so you can have more sleep! Yayyyyyyy! WAKE UP MAMA!”). And no mortal can refuse your smile, I promise. It’s beautiful, and Mama gives in every time, even if she’s just been having a really good dream.

You’re also growing like crazy, longer and longer and longer. We saw some kid walking in the park who I swear is no shorter than you, and you’re three months old. See this photo (and ignore how bad Mama looks – Mama asked Papa to get some pictures of her with Torsten, and he decided feeding time was a good time to do that. This is the only one of the set that’s safe for work…):

See? You are one long kid. With huge feet. Lovely feet, but, um, large.

You are, in fact, so big that we’re having to put you into the 6-9 month clothes. You’re too skinny for them, but you’re long enough for them and your feet actually fit. Not so with the socks – we’re going to have to move from the 6-12 month socks to the 12-18 month socks this week. I’m totally serious.

When you grow up and tell someone you’re going to kick his ass, he’d better run.

Anyhow.

This month, you’ve also become Mama’s partner-in-crime, on the run from the law, which is why you have to wear these sunglasses outside:

No, seriously. Partner in crime. As in we got stopped together by the police for jaywalking along with some other chick. (Fortunately, we were smart enough to like, not do it again in front of him, which the other chick wasn’t, but anyhow…)

Ok, really, the sunglasses are to protect your little blue eyes from the harsh Denver sun, and you and I have been spending a lot more time outside when the weather allows. You don’t really seem to mind the stroller, and the fresh air and new sights are all good. You’re finally just big enough to sit in the stroller without using the car seat, and so there’s a whole new world of things to see.

You’re also big enough to sit facing outward now in the Baby Björn, which is a lot of fun and good on the bus, but not great for cold windy walks.

The weather here was so wonderful one day last week that all three of us packed up and walked to the park together, and without even a blanket to cover up your cute feet.

By the way, Mama hasn’t figured out how to upload video from the video camera yet, so here’s a little poor-resolution video taken with Mama’s now aging regular camera while Papa and Mama ate in the park (note: the password to see it is “smurf” – it’s only password-protected to keep it from search engines and massive sharing on the site) – if it doesn’t show, it’s probably a problem with vimeo, so check back later:

It was a lovely day, and you stayed awake for the whole walk there and back, amazingly.

Unfortunately, the weather here in Denver can change quickly. One day, people are jogging in shorts through the park.

The very next day?

This is why we do not go to the park every day yet. Ah, but soon enough. Going outside is fun, and you seem completely awed by the big wide world. I hope that never goes away entirely…

Anyhow, after a hard day of smiling and singing and snuggling and worshipping Elmo and going outside with Mama to see trees, a hard-working baby like yourself needs sleep. And there’s no better – or cuter – place to catch an evening nap before your bedtime feeding than Papa Monster:

Totally irresistable, the two of you are. Hrmph.

So as you can see, things are changing fast with you. You go to bed about the same time every night, and you give Mama equally little sleep almost every day, though some of that is Mama’s fault for not being able to fall asleep at 7 pm. You’ve really started to notice and interact with your surroundings, and you’re definitely a social little guy. People always remark on what a good baby you are too, and I have to agree – we’re really damned lucky. You are really sweet and are very little trouble, although I suspect some of that is because your needs get met quickly. On the other hand, you’re not so little trouble that there’s anything wrong with you – you just save your fussing for the right times.

That said, you’ve also started to realize that the world is more interesting than, say, napping or eating, and that tends to occasionally create a grumpy Torsten. You are so interested in everything. Your brain? It says the ceiling fan is a really cool and exciting pattern and is much more fun than eating your dinner. Your tummy? It wants food now. But the ceiling fan is so much more interesting, and so your tummy gets demanding, and you get so confused that you start crying. Usually we can trick you into doing both at once, but it is kind of funny

Anyway, this month your Oma and Opa are here from Germany – they just arrived yesterday – and you three seem to be getting on like gangbusters. I’m really glad they came now, when your personality is starting to shine and you’re so smiley, and I’m glad they get to share in the person you’re becoming. It looks like this next month is going to be interesting, and we’re looking forward to it.

Just don’t grow too fast, little guy – Mama is so enjoying your little baby self and she knows it will go by more quickly than she wants, even if getting to know older Torsten is even cooler.

Love,

Mama

I swear, I get into bed and make the motion-sensitive night-light go on two or three times just to see Torsten’s angelic sleeping face.

(Of course, it is also true that no one tells you how much time you’ll spend before going to sleep looking/feeling one last time to make sure the baby is still breathing, but let’s focus on the positive here I’m glad there are ways to reduce the risk of SIDS, but by warning parents about it, doctors do manage to scare the crap out of new parents with it… I mean, the words “sudden” and “death” outside of a tennis match are not words new parents need to hear. Every appointment our pediatrician asks us if we’re still lying him to sleep on his back. And I just want to say, YES, YES, WE GET THE MESSAGE, NOW STOP SAYING IT!)