It sounded so much easier when I said it to her - my friend who was going through the same thing. "It just means that you're such a good mommy that he feels safe and secure to venture out - take it as a compliment."  That was my advice to her when her baby ran into the babysitter's arms when she went to pick him up from day care, and I meant it. 

Now it's time to drink my own water. 

I love my little guy so much and I want what's best for him, always, but what's best for him doesn't always feel good to mommy.  
Hudson loves his babysitter and he has such a strong bond with her.  She really has become part of our family.  I'm thankful for that.  But, this week Hudson cried every time she started to leave, and didn't want to let go of her.  This week was all about Lucia.  When we both went in to get him up from his nap, he walked over to Lucia.  When I tried to give him a kiss, he pushed me away.  When I came out to play with him, he looked at me like I had three eyes and went back to playing with Lucia.  

Rejection sucks, especially when it's your 13-month old baby rejecting you.  I know that he wasn't really rejecting me, and he's just testing out his independence, blah, blah, blah - but it still felt like rejection.  It felt really icky.  I felt like I was going to cry a couple of times.

A really needy, insecure, not-so-attractive side started to shine through.  I felt like I was a 10-year old trying out for the soccer team.  "Pick me, pick me!"  I just wanted to be picked. Oh how I wanted to be picked!  I wanted Hudson to be so excited to play with me that nobody else in the world existed for him. Is this so wrong?  Doesn't every mom want to be number one in their baby's eyes?  After all, he's been number one in my life the past 13 months!  I asked myself these questions and then I convinced myself that I was probably the only self-centered, neurotic mommy who was more concerned with being number one than being excited that he loves his babysitter so much.  (Which of course then made me feel even more self-centered). 

Why does it feel so important to me that I am the most important person in Hudson's life?  What would it mean if he enjoyed other peoples' company as much as he enjoyed mine?  I know; I hear the voice of reason even as I type this.  Just as I shared with my girlfriend, it means that he's a healthy and happy and well-adjusted baby.  My rational brain knows that, but my silly little insecure voice keeps me second-guessing.  

I realize that I was making the experience mean that Hudson loves me less than he loves Lucia, or that I was somehow not giving him enough love, affection or dare I say ... that I am not as much fun as his babysitter.  And why would any of that be so bad, anyway?  Those are the questions I really need to dive into and take a peek at. 

I know that it's all normal and healthy, and just a phase that he's going through as he discovers his new world.  I also learned that it's kinda normal for a new-ish mom to feel a little sad the first time her baby snubs her for the babysitter, and that's okay.  When I started writing this post I felt like I had to somehow apologize for feeling sad this week, but I make no apologies.  

The good news is our experience this week shined the light in some dark corners to show me where my work is. I certainly don't want to be the needy mom whose little boy feels like he always has to be by mommy's side. I learned a lot this week.  Most importantly, I learned that Hudson teaches me just as much about myself as I teach him about the world. Perhaps even more.  

Last Monday I was driving across the Coronado bridge wondering what the @$#% I had gotten myself into.  I was on my way to day one of the Total Immersion swimming course, which I knew was going to be filled with a bunch of hot-shot swimmers who were there to shave off some time from their previous Iron Man swim.  And then there was me - never learned how to swim and don't really have a clue how to do it.  Ugh, this is going to be awful.  And embarrassing.  Is it too late to get out of it?  

Thanks to my super slow breast pump I arrived to swim class late.  Or maybe I arrived late because I was procrastinating going and looking like a complete idiot.  Either way, I walked in right after everyone had apparently introduced themselves sharing their life history of swimming experience.  My coach told me to go on ahead and jump into the pool and warm up with my freestyle stroke.  Hm, I wonder what that means!?  I guess the prudent thing to do would have been to a-s-k.  But, asking would have meant admitting that I don't know what I'm doing.  Instead, my ego landed me in the pool and I just tried to mimic the others.  The others who have been swimming their whole bloody lives.  

After a couple of laps of disastrous labored "freestyle" swimming, our lead instructor said to lineup as we were about to start the filming, which would be viewed and critiqued by all at the end of the day.  Great, I knew I should have listened to that inner voice telling me to turn the car around and head east on the bridge, back to safety.  I knew that even if I followed through and filmed my famous freestyle that I absolutely had to make up some lame excuse as to why I would have to leave class early, before we watched the film, and never come back.  The babysitter quit. That would have worked.  But, I didn't.  I stayed and watched a very painful two minutes of myself in the water.  And I watched everyone else's video as they beautifully glided through the water.  (Lesson number one, apparently swimmers move through the water, not in the water.  Bet you can't guess which one I do?!)

Despite my humiliation, I continued to show up each day and made a complete idiot out of myself.  But, each day I learned a ton about swimming and the most efficient way to get from one end of the pool to the next.  It was humbling.  And, dare I admit, fun!  (And cold. Man, was it it cold!)  I had to continue to remind myself that I'm new at this swimming stuff and it's okay to suck at it and to feel uncomfortable and awkward.  It's all part of the process.  It's not me versus them; there was no competition or judgement by my fellow swimmers.  In fact, the rest of the participants (and coaches) became my biggest fans.  They loved watching how much improvement I made from start to finish.  And it felt good.  So good.  To do something completely outside of my comfort zone and be okay with the steep learning curve.  

Being a new mom is a lot like learning how to swim.  I've never done it before now and therefore it's going to feel awkward and uncomfortable at times - like I can't breathe.  And sometimes I'm going to feel like I completely suck as a mom, but that's totally normal.  And part of the learning curve.  The good news is, just like swimming, it's not black-or-white or sink-or-swim, there's a ton of gray area.  I don't have to be a perfect mom all of the time (thank goodness since I never am), and it's okay to feel afraid sometimes.  It just means I will have more opportunities to learn.  Opportunities to learn what is causing my fears and check out whether they're even valid fears, or are they based on the silly stories that I create in my mind.  

It's okay to feel totally uncomfortable, like a fish-out-of-water, while I learn how to fill my role as a new mom.  As long as I'm willing to be wrong sometimes, and learn from those who have been doing it longer than me, I'll make it to the other side, hopefully stronger than when I first started this new journey, and certainly more graceful.  Just like gliding throuuugh the water.  One breath at a time.  One very long, deep, relaxing breath.