On Penguin Dances

Or, the ups and downs of motherhood

It’s early as I write this - the sun has not yet risen, and the world has that quiet sense of waiting I’ve come to associate with pre-dawn. My husband is snoozing on the couch next to me, and my daughter snoozes on my lap, with all the contentment of a month-old baby who has recently been fed. Occasionally her eyes flicker and her mouth moves, and I wonder if she’s dreaming of nursing, or milk. Perhaps she’s dreaming of the kitty cats that lie next to her and purr, or her current favorite black and white picture. It’s a penguin, and making the penguin dance always makes her light up. 

I don’t make Mr Penguin dance as well as the real thing does, but I try. Photo by Cornelius Ventures on Unsplash

The actual penguin. Katharine is about two and a half weeks old here.

    I knew, intellectually, that things would change when I became a mother. My own mother warned me that I would make mistakes, and not to beat myself up too badly. She also told me that my entire world would shift when this tiny little human entered my life. I knew that intellectually… but nothing really prepared me for the nights I’d spend awake on the couch, listening for my daughter to breathe before closing my eyes again and drifting off. Nothing prepared me for the pride I’d feel when she lifted her head off my chest, while she was in her sling, and gave me the best stink eye I’ve ever received while demanding third breakfast. I was not prepared for the pain I’d feel, listening to her cry during supervised tummy time, but knowing that giving in now meant I was failing her in the long term.

Exhausted baby, resting after tummy time

    Nothing prepared me for the loneliness, either. There’s a sense of  isolation that comes with being a new mother: with the best of intentions, people will tell you to stay home and bond with your baby. I’m grateful I can do that. After awhile, though, the walls of the house start to close in. By week three, I was tempted to adopt a coconut and name it Wilson. My husband is amazing, but it’s good to see other people, too. The impact of sleep deprivation is very real, too. I called my mother several times in absolute tears, convinced I was failing as a mother. Her advice was often to take a shower and take a nap. I followed it begrudgingly, feeling guilty the whole time. I should have known better than to doubt my mother. It always worked.

Also, walks are great for mental health!

    Katharine is a month old now, and fascinated by the world. I woke up this morning to soft sounds coming from her crib, and realized that she was starting to coo. I have no doubt she’ll be smart, but more importantly, I hope she’ll be kind. I’m also saving the penguin picture forever.