The weekends go by too quickly.
My friend Barbara-Dahling came down to see us yesterday, and Grandmother Diana and Ken came today. I love visitors, but I always feel so badly because I have nothing to talk about right now. What do I do every day? Nurse Jack, change diapers, wipe noses, manage illnesses (none this week, thankfully), let the dog out, cook meals, make snacks, let the dog in, work, cart kids around, wash clothes, wash dishes, fold clothes, read books, print out coloring sheets, drink tons of hot tea, contemplate having teeth whitened/liposuction/gastric bypass, exercise instead because it's cheaper, pay bills, shower, collapse into bed, do it all again tomorrow.
Riveting.
I am so boring. Seriously. This is why new parents talk to each other about the various characteristics of poopy diapers.
At least this time I know it's only temporary.
Showing posts with label Momguilt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Momguilt. Show all posts
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Thursday, July 22, 2010
I Have Safety Fatigue
Just in time for our third child to be born, they recall every crib in the known universe. I'm still trying to figure out how I'm going to safely pick a baby up out of a crib without a dropping side - at 5'4" tall short, it's not easy. I guess I'll get a step stool. That should be REALLY safe at 3 am.
I've thrown out and replaced all of our plastic sippy cups due to concerns over BPA. We also bought Pyrex storage containers to replace our plastic ones, and we use them most of the time.
At the grocery store today, I spent $7.50 for a gallon of Horizon Organic Milk. We also buy our beef from a relative who only uses antibiotics when his cows are ill, and who doesn't use growth hormones, and who feeds the cows grass most of the year.
But I have safety fatigue. I find myself wanting to rebel against the constant vigilance that is required of us - today's parents. I am sick to death of having Google News Alerts for product recalls. I'm pretty sure the bars of my crib were more than 2 inches apart AND the side dropped, and somehow my fat head and I managed to survive. I remember riding in the back of the station wagon, and in the back window of the car, and somehow I survived.
There's a big part of me that thinks that they do this to get us to buy more stuff. We threw out the carseat we used with the girls because it was 5 years old, and supposedly the plastic degrades after 5 years. We threw out the stroller it came with because it, too, had been recalled, and the "fix" was a cheesy velcro and fabric cover that any baby I've ever met would rip off in about 10 seconds.
We've given up high fructose corn syrup entirely because of this video (we were on our way to giving it up because common sense says it's bad, this, and having to throw out everything in our fridge, pushed me over the edge):
I'm sick to death of anxiety. I'm sick of worrying that everything from the milk my kids drink in the morning to the shampoo I use on their precious little heads at night is going to kill them.
I'm about ready to call it quits - to ignore the recalls and just keep using whatever works - because I don't trust the people in charge, and I don't want to spend the money, and I'm just plain tired of worrying about everything.
How do you decide, as a parent, what to worry about and what to ignore? Do you follow every safety recall and take away the things that are "dangerous" or do you selectively ignore some? Do you buy organic? Where do you draw the lines?
Because seriously, sometimes my line makes me feel like a chump.
I've thrown out and replaced all of our plastic sippy cups due to concerns over BPA. We also bought Pyrex storage containers to replace our plastic ones, and we use them most of the time.
At the grocery store today, I spent $7.50 for a gallon of Horizon Organic Milk. We also buy our beef from a relative who only uses antibiotics when his cows are ill, and who doesn't use growth hormones, and who feeds the cows grass most of the year.
But I have safety fatigue. I find myself wanting to rebel against the constant vigilance that is required of us - today's parents. I am sick to death of having Google News Alerts for product recalls. I'm pretty sure the bars of my crib were more than 2 inches apart AND the side dropped, and somehow my fat head and I managed to survive. I remember riding in the back of the station wagon, and in the back window of the car, and somehow I survived.
There's a big part of me that thinks that they do this to get us to buy more stuff. We threw out the carseat we used with the girls because it was 5 years old, and supposedly the plastic degrades after 5 years. We threw out the stroller it came with because it, too, had been recalled, and the "fix" was a cheesy velcro and fabric cover that any baby I've ever met would rip off in about 10 seconds.
We've given up high fructose corn syrup entirely because of this video (we were on our way to giving it up because common sense says it's bad, this, and having to throw out everything in our fridge, pushed me over the edge):
I'm sick to death of anxiety. I'm sick of worrying that everything from the milk my kids drink in the morning to the shampoo I use on their precious little heads at night is going to kill them.
I'm about ready to call it quits - to ignore the recalls and just keep using whatever works - because I don't trust the people in charge, and I don't want to spend the money, and I'm just plain tired of worrying about everything.
How do you decide, as a parent, what to worry about and what to ignore? Do you follow every safety recall and take away the things that are "dangerous" or do you selectively ignore some? Do you buy organic? Where do you draw the lines?
Because seriously, sometimes my line makes me feel like a chump.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Can't I Just Teach Her To Type, Instead?
Ok, y'all, thanks so much for leaving comments on yesterday's post. Making my day! If you haven't yet, be sure to leave me a comment, ok?
Meanwhile, I have a confession.
Mary Grace gets homework. One handwriting worksheet per week. No big deal. They're not even "due" (which is probably part of the problem - I do much better with a deadline).
She's been in school for a long time now, right? At least eight weeks? Guess how many worksheets we've turned in...
ONE.
I so totally suck.
The first week I was all, "We're going to start with good habits! We're going to do her homework right after lunch on Tuesdays, and have it done for the week, and we're going to set up good habits that will last all the way through college!!" Instead, I procrastinated, because we didn't have glue. And then someone needed a nap. And then something else happened. And then we went to Florida. And then we had company. And jeez, here we are like two months in and I'm pretty sure that she's going to be flipping burgers until retirement because I never taught her how to do her homework.
The guilt... The crushing, crushing guilt!
What makes it worse, guys? I was a teacher. Well, I went to school to be one, anyway, and I did my student teaching, but I never had my own classroom. Anyway, I was sanctifreakinmonious about parental involvement and how crappy some of the students' parents were for not having a schedule and a routine and being consistent and it would be so much easier and the world would be a better place if these parents could just get their acts together....
I didn't have kids, then, can you tell?
And here I am a few years down the road, and I can't even sit my own kid down to get her to do one stinkin' worksheet a week.
Her handwriting sucks, too. We were supposed to be working on this stuff since birth, right? We were going to have her reading by now. She's certainly smart enough, but I haven't sat her down to make her do it. *I* am the person in this house who lacks discipline, and who would rather turn on the TV and have the kids leave me alone than sit down and do a workbook or a project with them. Consequently, she can't do much more than scribble - forget drawing little people (something that Jen's daughter has been doing for MONTHS, and she's a little younger than MG) or coloring inside the lines.
Oh my God, if she ends up on drugs it's totally going to be my fault.
I'll tell you what, this has cured me of any inclinations I might have ever had toward homeschooling. There is no way I'd do it. No way. I'm flunking preschool for God's sake!
So, we're up to our nostrils in self-loathing at the house of Prettybabies today, and we're working hard to get her homework all caught up. She brought home a fun worksheet ("disguising" a turkey so that the farmer doesn't get him on Thanksgiving) that she's excited about (we're going to make a princess), so I told her if she got the other four worksheets (the ones that I can find) done, I'd help her with the Princess Turkey.
(The really entertaining thing is that MG's teacher is going to read this on Facebook... Hahaha!)
Meanwhile, I have a confession.
Mary Grace gets homework. One handwriting worksheet per week. No big deal. They're not even "due" (which is probably part of the problem - I do much better with a deadline).
She's been in school for a long time now, right? At least eight weeks? Guess how many worksheets we've turned in...
ONE.
I so totally suck.
The first week I was all, "We're going to start with good habits! We're going to do her homework right after lunch on Tuesdays, and have it done for the week, and we're going to set up good habits that will last all the way through college!!" Instead, I procrastinated, because we didn't have glue. And then someone needed a nap. And then something else happened. And then we went to Florida. And then we had company. And jeez, here we are like two months in and I'm pretty sure that she's going to be flipping burgers until retirement because I never taught her how to do her homework.
The guilt... The crushing, crushing guilt!
What makes it worse, guys? I was a teacher. Well, I went to school to be one, anyway, and I did my student teaching, but I never had my own classroom. Anyway, I was sanctifreakinmonious about parental involvement and how crappy some of the students' parents were for not having a schedule and a routine and being consistent and it would be so much easier and the world would be a better place if these parents could just get their acts together....
I didn't have kids, then, can you tell?
And here I am a few years down the road, and I can't even sit my own kid down to get her to do one stinkin' worksheet a week.
Her handwriting sucks, too. We were supposed to be working on this stuff since birth, right? We were going to have her reading by now. She's certainly smart enough, but I haven't sat her down to make her do it. *I* am the person in this house who lacks discipline, and who would rather turn on the TV and have the kids leave me alone than sit down and do a workbook or a project with them. Consequently, she can't do much more than scribble - forget drawing little people (something that Jen's daughter has been doing for MONTHS, and she's a little younger than MG) or coloring inside the lines.
Oh my God, if she ends up on drugs it's totally going to be my fault.
I'll tell you what, this has cured me of any inclinations I might have ever had toward homeschooling. There is no way I'd do it. No way. I'm flunking preschool for God's sake!
So, we're up to our nostrils in self-loathing at the house of Prettybabies today, and we're working hard to get her homework all caught up. She brought home a fun worksheet ("disguising" a turkey so that the farmer doesn't get him on Thanksgiving) that she's excited about (we're going to make a princess), so I told her if she got the other four worksheets (the ones that I can find) done, I'd help her with the Princess Turkey.
(The really entertaining thing is that MG's teacher is going to read this on Facebook... Hahaha!)
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Backhanded Gifts
A friend of mine, let's call her Fiona, and I were chatting yesterday. She's a first-time mother of a 12 week old. For Mother's Day her husband, we'll call him Shrek, gave her a weekend away in a nearby state (we're in the midwest, so it would be about a 4 hour drive from home).
Shrek's motivation? "I need to have you all to myself."
Poor Fiona said, "Whenever I think of leaving her for two nights, I feel like I'm going to vomit."
Shrek, along with other folks inside this situation, is making Fiona feel crazy for not wanting to leave her 12 week old baby for two nights. Other pertinent information - Fiona is breastfeeding, and Fiona works nearly full time and has to be away from her baby all week. She and Shrek can't afford for her to stay home, even though she wants to.
My reaction to all of the above was unprintable, because this is a family blog, but let's just say that there's also a finger to express the feelings I have toward Shrek right now.
Oh, how I remember those early days of motherhood. It is such a huge adjustment. And you don't want to be crazy. You don't want to be, already at 12 weeks in, that overprotective hovering mom. It's so easy to make a first-time mom question her choices, to make her feel like if she doesn't leave her baby with loving grandparents for two nights she's somehow doomed to be that "helicopter mom" at the playground who practically drowns her kid in Purell and makes him wear a helmet to go down the slide.
New moms are so vulnerable. They are under intense internal and external pressure to do everything right, even though they're doing something that they've never done before (raising a kid) and that they could never have imagined accurately pre-kids. It starts at birth - did you have a "natural" birth without drugs, an epidural, a c-section? Did you really need that c-section or are you "too posh to push"?
Hell, it starts before birth - are you eating 100% organic ice cream from happy cows raised in Vermont when you crave ice cream, or are you getting the cheap store brand? Vlassic pickles? Why not? Don't you want to give your baby the best???
Think I'm kidding? Read the diet section of the (extremely evil) book "What to Expect When You're Expecting." I'd quote it, but I burned my copy in effigy. It said something like, "You only get 9 short months to give your baby the best nutrition possible! So you must agonize over every bite of food that goes into your mouth. Are you SURE that what you're eating is the best?" Screw them, I just wanted watermelon, guacamole, and ice cream... Mary Grace had so much Mexican food in utero that I was concerned she'd be born saying, "Hola Mama! Como est ca?" or "S-O-C-K-S." Mmmmm... fajitas!
It never ends. My siblings and I are extremely close, and yet my brother has questioned some of my parenting choices. I gave my kids a bit of Diet Pepsi once when we were at my mom's (my sister and I were going to run to the store to get the organic, sugar free, juice made from apples hand picked by Oompa Loompas - we were on our way out the door, actually, but the kids were thirsty and Diet Pepsi was what was available. I figured a couple ounces wasn't likely to kill them or give them cancer). He asked me, if I recall correctly, if I was crazy. I told him that when he had kids he was free to let them drink Diet Pepsi, or not, as he saw fit.
We talked about it later (I wasn't mad, I've been doing this for 4-1/2 years if you include my pregnancy with MG, I'm used to it), and he said he was just surprised. I said, "It's not like I give them Diet Pepsi every day, or even every week, but they have pop occasionally for a treat." Moderation in all things, right? He assured me that he wasn't trying to be critical at the time, he was just genuinely surprised.
Now it's on the record, I give my kids diet soda sometimes. They also watch more than an hour of TV a day. And they eat fast food, too. And I don't always get the apples, sometimes I get them fries. BAD MOMMY!
Anyway, the trouble with being a first time mom is that you don't have any data to support your decisions. If I give Claire Diet Pepsi, and someone looks at me askance, I can point to Mary Grace and say, "Hey, I haven't killed her, yet, I must be doing something right!" But when you only have one, and your one is so little, and you're still questioning yourself at every turn, you are so vulnerable to criticism... It's really cruel of anyone, even the baby's father, especially the baby's father, to make the new mother feel nuts for anything - - unless she truly is nuts, like I was, and then you need to do whatever it takes to get her help. Of course, that didn't happen until MG was older...
Here is my point - if you're a new mommy and someone is trying to make you do something that you don't want to do, particularly if that thing causes a visceral reaction, as Fiona's thinking of leaving made her want to vomit:
Have the self-confidence to put your foot down. You love your baby. You are doing what you feel is best. You are the only person who is going to have to live with the choices you make as a mother, so make sure that you're making you're own choices - not the choices dictated to you by others. Who wants to live with somebody else's choices?
You can't please everyone. If you breastfeed, someone is going to give you a dirty look for doing it in public. If you don't nurse in public, and instead you pump, the La Leche League is going to get all up in your grill about nipple confusion, if you feed formula, instead, all the boob nazis are going to come at you - even if you have the best of reasons for choosing formula (I've had friends who have been on life-saving medication and have had to feed formula because it was either take the medicine that would make the baby sick if she nursed while taking it, or die, and they still get given the business about nursing, and they still feel guilty deep down inside - that's just sick). Your every choice will be questioned and scrutinized, and someone will think you're making the wrong choice, no matter what. So don't listen to them - make your own (informed, rational, reasonable) choices.
Here's another little truism I decided to live by when Mary Grace was really little - only take advice from people whose children you would choose to live with. Think about it. If Sally Sunshine is telling you to do A, B, and C, but Sally's kids are hellions who make your blood pressure go up just thinking about them, why would you take Sally's advice? So your kids can turn out like hers? I don't think so! And the same goes for me - if you wouldn't want to live with my delightful, charming, beautiful, perfect children, don't listen to me, either.
So how do you deal with unwanted advice? How do you deal when your own family is questioning your parental choices? They should just hand out laminated cards in the hospital that look like this:
Just print that one out and put it in your wallet and use it, as needed.
That would make an awesome t-shirt. Hmmmm....
As for you, Shrek, you've had Fiona "all to yourself" for 10 years, and you'll have her "all to yourself" for the next 50. But this first year of your daughter's life is different, and fleeting, and you don't get her all to yourself for the next, oh, 280 days or so, ok? You're just going to have to be a grown up and cope.
Because I said so.
Shrek's motivation? "I need to have you all to myself."
Poor Fiona said, "Whenever I think of leaving her for two nights, I feel like I'm going to vomit."
Shrek, along with other folks inside this situation, is making Fiona feel crazy for not wanting to leave her 12 week old baby for two nights. Other pertinent information - Fiona is breastfeeding, and Fiona works nearly full time and has to be away from her baby all week. She and Shrek can't afford for her to stay home, even though she wants to.
My reaction to all of the above was unprintable, because this is a family blog, but let's just say that there's also a finger to express the feelings I have toward Shrek right now.
Oh, how I remember those early days of motherhood. It is such a huge adjustment. And you don't want to be crazy. You don't want to be, already at 12 weeks in, that overprotective hovering mom. It's so easy to make a first-time mom question her choices, to make her feel like if she doesn't leave her baby with loving grandparents for two nights she's somehow doomed to be that "helicopter mom" at the playground who practically drowns her kid in Purell and makes him wear a helmet to go down the slide.
New moms are so vulnerable. They are under intense internal and external pressure to do everything right, even though they're doing something that they've never done before (raising a kid) and that they could never have imagined accurately pre-kids. It starts at birth - did you have a "natural" birth without drugs, an epidural, a c-section? Did you really need that c-section or are you "too posh to push"?
Hell, it starts before birth - are you eating 100% organic ice cream from happy cows raised in Vermont when you crave ice cream, or are you getting the cheap store brand? Vlassic pickles? Why not? Don't you want to give your baby the best???
Think I'm kidding? Read the diet section of the (extremely evil) book "What to Expect When You're Expecting." I'd quote it, but I burned my copy in effigy. It said something like, "You only get 9 short months to give your baby the best nutrition possible! So you must agonize over every bite of food that goes into your mouth. Are you SURE that what you're eating is the best?" Screw them, I just wanted watermelon, guacamole, and ice cream... Mary Grace had so much Mexican food in utero that I was concerned she'd be born saying, "Hola Mama! Como est ca?" or "S-O-C-K-S." Mmmmm... fajitas!
It never ends. My siblings and I are extremely close, and yet my brother has questioned some of my parenting choices. I gave my kids a bit of Diet Pepsi once when we were at my mom's (my sister and I were going to run to the store to get the organic, sugar free, juice made from apples hand picked by Oompa Loompas - we were on our way out the door, actually, but the kids were thirsty and Diet Pepsi was what was available. I figured a couple ounces wasn't likely to kill them or give them cancer). He asked me, if I recall correctly, if I was crazy. I told him that when he had kids he was free to let them drink Diet Pepsi, or not, as he saw fit.
We talked about it later (I wasn't mad, I've been doing this for 4-1/2 years if you include my pregnancy with MG, I'm used to it), and he said he was just surprised. I said, "It's not like I give them Diet Pepsi every day, or even every week, but they have pop occasionally for a treat." Moderation in all things, right? He assured me that he wasn't trying to be critical at the time, he was just genuinely surprised.
Now it's on the record, I give my kids diet soda sometimes. They also watch more than an hour of TV a day. And they eat fast food, too. And I don't always get the apples, sometimes I get them fries. BAD MOMMY!
Anyway, the trouble with being a first time mom is that you don't have any data to support your decisions. If I give Claire Diet Pepsi, and someone looks at me askance, I can point to Mary Grace and say, "Hey, I haven't killed her, yet, I must be doing something right!" But when you only have one, and your one is so little, and you're still questioning yourself at every turn, you are so vulnerable to criticism... It's really cruel of anyone, even the baby's father, especially the baby's father, to make the new mother feel nuts for anything - - unless she truly is nuts, like I was, and then you need to do whatever it takes to get her help. Of course, that didn't happen until MG was older...
Here is my point - if you're a new mommy and someone is trying to make you do something that you don't want to do, particularly if that thing causes a visceral reaction, as Fiona's thinking of leaving made her want to vomit:
Don't do it!
Have the self-confidence to put your foot down. You love your baby. You are doing what you feel is best. You are the only person who is going to have to live with the choices you make as a mother, so make sure that you're making you're own choices - not the choices dictated to you by others. Who wants to live with somebody else's choices?
You can't please everyone. If you breastfeed, someone is going to give you a dirty look for doing it in public. If you don't nurse in public, and instead you pump, the La Leche League is going to get all up in your grill about nipple confusion, if you feed formula, instead, all the boob nazis are going to come at you - even if you have the best of reasons for choosing formula (I've had friends who have been on life-saving medication and have had to feed formula because it was either take the medicine that would make the baby sick if she nursed while taking it, or die, and they still get given the business about nursing, and they still feel guilty deep down inside - that's just sick). Your every choice will be questioned and scrutinized, and someone will think you're making the wrong choice, no matter what. So don't listen to them - make your own (informed, rational, reasonable) choices.
Here's another little truism I decided to live by when Mary Grace was really little - only take advice from people whose children you would choose to live with. Think about it. If Sally Sunshine is telling you to do A, B, and C, but Sally's kids are hellions who make your blood pressure go up just thinking about them, why would you take Sally's advice? So your kids can turn out like hers? I don't think so! And the same goes for me - if you wouldn't want to live with my delightful, charming, beautiful, perfect children, don't listen to me, either.
So how do you deal with unwanted advice? How do you deal when your own family is questioning your parental choices? They should just hand out laminated cards in the hospital that look like this:
Just print that one out and put it in your wallet and use it, as needed.That would make an awesome t-shirt. Hmmmm....
As for you, Shrek, you've had Fiona "all to yourself" for 10 years, and you'll have her "all to yourself" for the next 50. But this first year of your daughter's life is different, and fleeting, and you don't get her all to yourself for the next, oh, 280 days or so, ok? You're just going to have to be a grown up and cope.
Because I said so.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
The "Together Mom" Myth
A friend of mine is struggling. She says she's a horrible wife, a terrible mother, and a worthless person. She sounds just like I did when I had PPD, except her youngest is already in school, so probably not... I was talking to her about the Myth of the Together Mom, and thought I'd share my little mind game with all of you.
See, I used to fall into the trap of thinking that the other moms I saw had it all figured out - that they were pros at this mom thing, and that it was as obvious to everyone else that I was totally faking it as it was to me. Not faking love for my kids, of course I love them, but faking the whole "having it together" thing. I would see other moms, who often had more kids than I have, and they'd have their hand-decorated, home-made, organic, peanut and gluten free cupcakes for the class party, and I'd show up with boxed cookies from Kroger (and I forgot to check the label, and the damn cookies are "made on machines that process foods that contain nuts...." Oops). Or I'd see a mom with three perfectly matchy matched children acting angelic in the mall as I struggled to get my kid away from the money-eating carousel - they looked like the Stepford family, and we looked like the World Wrestling Federation, and I'd think, "How do they do it?!"
I've figured it out - or at least figured out a way to live in the same world with the Stepford moms without losing my mind. Now, when I see those "together moms" I think, "Yeah, she looks all put together, but I'll bet she's got $100,000 worth of credit card debt!" or "Sure, those cupcakes are organic and homemade, but she's operating on 92 minutes of sleep and a whole bunch of speed today..." Of course I never VOICE these opinions to the "together moms" I see... I just smile inside and think, "Yeah, sister, your hair is coiffed and your makeup is perfect, and I could bounce quarters off of your abs even though you have 6 kids, but you've got a secret too..."
Now that I'm a little further down this Mommy Road, it has come to my attention that people see ME as the together mom! HA! HAHAHAHAHA!!! I call my mom or sister at least once a week to tell them that if they don't come down and get these kids, I'm going to put a sign on them that says, "Free to good home" and stick them in the front yard (they rarely show up, and the kids are both still present and accounted for - they understand my hyperbole). I spend entirely too much time on the 'net, and my kids watch WAY too much TV. I have vices, things I feel guilty about, and secrets just like everyone - just like you - but I present my "together face" to the world, just like everyone else. And unless you know me well, or catch me in a vulnerable moment, you'd never see those vices, guilts, and secrets.
Another friend of mine says, "Being a mom isn't hard work, but it's constant." I think that's partially true - it is constant. Kids just never stop needing (even when they're grown, from what I've seen!). It takes a lot of effort to be someone else's caregiver, and when you find yourself in the position of caring for a whole family - running to lessons, wiping noses and butts, dropping off, picking up, three meals and two snacks a day, making little decisions (what's for dinner? snack now or later? fight to get her to nap or give it up?), making big decisions (vaccines on schedule? preschool? work or stay home? vacation or new roof?) all the time, it can really wear you out. When you find yourself in the unenviable position of caring for aging parents and young kids, or caring for yourself or your spouse through a chronic illness, or just trying to spin all thirteen dozen plates in the air without letting anything fall - it gets hard. It's hard for everyone. No one has it easy in this mothering gig. No one.
In our western culture, the mother really is the heart of the family. As the saying goes, "If Mama ain't happy, nobody's happy." It's a lot of pressure to be "on" all the time, to be "together" all the time, to be "healthy" all the time - and it's easy to bend, it's easy to break, under that pressure.
But we owe it to ourselves, and to our husbands and kids, to be as together as we can. And I really believe that it's necessary to let go of some of the "shoulds" of motherhood - I should make organic, free range, peanut free cookies instead of buying something for school snack, I should make all the kids' Halloween costumes, I should make all their birthday cakes from scratch, I should turn off the damn TV and interact with the little weirdos 24/7, I should...... The only true should-ism is that you should put less pressure on yourself to be Donna Reed and spend more time on the stuff that really fulfills you and makes you happy. Your kids are going to remember that you were content for a lot longer than they're going to remember those perfect cupcakes.
The irony is that once you let up on some of your own pressure on yourself, once you start to give yourself some wiggle room, some grace, you enable yourself to be a better mother.
What do you think? Do people think you have it "all together"? What's your dirty little mommy secret? Leave an anonymous comment if you want - I honestly can't see who's who in the comments when they're anonymous. Help my friend realize that we're all in this together, and that none of us have it easy, by leaving a little confession.
See, I used to fall into the trap of thinking that the other moms I saw had it all figured out - that they were pros at this mom thing, and that it was as obvious to everyone else that I was totally faking it as it was to me. Not faking love for my kids, of course I love them, but faking the whole "having it together" thing. I would see other moms, who often had more kids than I have, and they'd have their hand-decorated, home-made, organic, peanut and gluten free cupcakes for the class party, and I'd show up with boxed cookies from Kroger (and I forgot to check the label, and the damn cookies are "made on machines that process foods that contain nuts...." Oops). Or I'd see a mom with three perfectly matchy matched children acting angelic in the mall as I struggled to get my kid away from the money-eating carousel - they looked like the Stepford family, and we looked like the World Wrestling Federation, and I'd think, "How do they do it?!"
I've figured it out - or at least figured out a way to live in the same world with the Stepford moms without losing my mind. Now, when I see those "together moms" I think, "Yeah, she looks all put together, but I'll bet she's got $100,000 worth of credit card debt!" or "Sure, those cupcakes are organic and homemade, but she's operating on 92 minutes of sleep and a whole bunch of speed today..." Of course I never VOICE these opinions to the "together moms" I see... I just smile inside and think, "Yeah, sister, your hair is coiffed and your makeup is perfect, and I could bounce quarters off of your abs even though you have 6 kids, but you've got a secret too..."
Now that I'm a little further down this Mommy Road, it has come to my attention that people see ME as the together mom! HA! HAHAHAHAHA!!! I call my mom or sister at least once a week to tell them that if they don't come down and get these kids, I'm going to put a sign on them that says, "Free to good home" and stick them in the front yard (they rarely show up, and the kids are both still present and accounted for - they understand my hyperbole). I spend entirely too much time on the 'net, and my kids watch WAY too much TV. I have vices, things I feel guilty about, and secrets just like everyone - just like you - but I present my "together face" to the world, just like everyone else. And unless you know me well, or catch me in a vulnerable moment, you'd never see those vices, guilts, and secrets.
Another friend of mine says, "Being a mom isn't hard work, but it's constant." I think that's partially true - it is constant. Kids just never stop needing (even when they're grown, from what I've seen!). It takes a lot of effort to be someone else's caregiver, and when you find yourself in the position of caring for a whole family - running to lessons, wiping noses and butts, dropping off, picking up, three meals and two snacks a day, making little decisions (what's for dinner? snack now or later? fight to get her to nap or give it up?), making big decisions (vaccines on schedule? preschool? work or stay home? vacation or new roof?) all the time, it can really wear you out. When you find yourself in the unenviable position of caring for aging parents and young kids, or caring for yourself or your spouse through a chronic illness, or just trying to spin all thirteen dozen plates in the air without letting anything fall - it gets hard. It's hard for everyone. No one has it easy in this mothering gig. No one.
In our western culture, the mother really is the heart of the family. As the saying goes, "If Mama ain't happy, nobody's happy." It's a lot of pressure to be "on" all the time, to be "together" all the time, to be "healthy" all the time - and it's easy to bend, it's easy to break, under that pressure.
But we owe it to ourselves, and to our husbands and kids, to be as together as we can. And I really believe that it's necessary to let go of some of the "shoulds" of motherhood - I should make organic, free range, peanut free cookies instead of buying something for school snack, I should make all the kids' Halloween costumes, I should make all their birthday cakes from scratch, I should turn off the damn TV and interact with the little weirdos 24/7, I should...... The only true should-ism is that you should put less pressure on yourself to be Donna Reed and spend more time on the stuff that really fulfills you and makes you happy. Your kids are going to remember that you were content for a lot longer than they're going to remember those perfect cupcakes.
The irony is that once you let up on some of your own pressure on yourself, once you start to give yourself some wiggle room, some grace, you enable yourself to be a better mother.
What do you think? Do people think you have it "all together"? What's your dirty little mommy secret? Leave an anonymous comment if you want - I honestly can't see who's who in the comments when they're anonymous. Help my friend realize that we're all in this together, and that none of us have it easy, by leaving a little confession.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Guiltily Loving the Economic Downturn
A guy just knocked at my door, completely out of the blue, and asked if I wanted the yard raked. "Yeah!" I replied, "How much?" $20! Too good to be true.
"We can also mow and do the gutters," he said.
"Really? How much for the entire yard, and all the gutters?"
SEVENTY FIVE DOLLARS!
I feel terrible, knowing that these guys are probably down on their luck, maybe high school kids who can't find a decent job right now, or college kids. Why else would they be out in the cold, going door to door, cleaning up peoples' yards? They can't be much older than 22. And I feel like I'm completely taking advantage of them... But $75! That's an amazing deal. We have a large, corner yard, and a lot of trees.
I offered them coffee or cocoa. And if you live near me and you need your yard cleaned up, holler at me and I'll refer them over to your house. Poor guys...
Don't worry, I'll give 'em a good tip.
"We can also mow and do the gutters," he said.
"Really? How much for the entire yard, and all the gutters?"
SEVENTY FIVE DOLLARS!
I feel terrible, knowing that these guys are probably down on their luck, maybe high school kids who can't find a decent job right now, or college kids. Why else would they be out in the cold, going door to door, cleaning up peoples' yards? They can't be much older than 22. And I feel like I'm completely taking advantage of them... But $75! That's an amazing deal. We have a large, corner yard, and a lot of trees.
I offered them coffee or cocoa. And if you live near me and you need your yard cleaned up, holler at me and I'll refer them over to your house. Poor guys...
Don't worry, I'll give 'em a good tip.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
If I spent all this time running instead of reading I'd be a size 2
Thanks for all the awesome book recommendations! Right now I'm about halfway through Loving Frank by Nancy Horan. I'm honestly not that into it, but it gave me something to do during the 2+ hours it took to put the kids to bed tonight.
ARGH!
It drives me absolutely bonkers that they will lay down at Dawn's and take a two hour nap with no shenanigans - no reading, no snuggling, no "rub my back," or "rub my foot." They lay down, alone, on mats, and they sleep. At home we have to go through a circus act of bouncing and rocking and singing and shushing and reading and rubbing (and MG takes my fingers and shows me how she wants her back rubbed, because apparently I don't do it right anymore, until I say, "I am DONE, just go to SLEEP!"). Talked to Mom today and she says this is normal, and that they're not just doing it to drive me insane, but I'm not entirely convinced that I believe her.
Dad got my S.O.S. e-mail earlier, and though it was too late to come over and take the kids away, he did leave ice cream in the freezer (rocky road - excellent!) and promise to come over and make purple chicken for dinner tomorrow.
I am intrigued. Dad's cooking repertoire generally consists of peanut butter and microwave popcorn. I asked him how he gets the chicken to be purple, but he said it's a chef's secret. Google was no help.
To be honest, as long as I don't have to cook it, I don't care what color the chicken is!
I think I'm cranky because I've been having trouble sleeping. I've had to take Unisom the last two nights, because I just lay there, wide awake, looking at the ceiling until 1:30 or 2 am. The neck pain thing that I saw the chiropractor (or "back quack," if you're BJ) for isn't noticably worse at night, or when I'm lying down, so I don't know what my problem is. I get tired, but not sleepy. I don't make any sense, but thank God for Unisom otherwise I'd have been a real peach today. Can an overdose of zucchini make one sleepless?
Nighty night, internets. I hear the siren song of the Unisom, calling me upstairs. A big day of laundry and gymnastics tomorrow. It just doesn't get much more exciting than this!!
ARGH!
It drives me absolutely bonkers that they will lay down at Dawn's and take a two hour nap with no shenanigans - no reading, no snuggling, no "rub my back," or "rub my foot." They lay down, alone, on mats, and they sleep. At home we have to go through a circus act of bouncing and rocking and singing and shushing and reading and rubbing (and MG takes my fingers and shows me how she wants her back rubbed, because apparently I don't do it right anymore, until I say, "I am DONE, just go to SLEEP!"). Talked to Mom today and she says this is normal, and that they're not just doing it to drive me insane, but I'm not entirely convinced that I believe her.
Dad got my S.O.S. e-mail earlier, and though it was too late to come over and take the kids away, he did leave ice cream in the freezer (rocky road - excellent!) and promise to come over and make purple chicken for dinner tomorrow.
I am intrigued. Dad's cooking repertoire generally consists of peanut butter and microwave popcorn. I asked him how he gets the chicken to be purple, but he said it's a chef's secret. Google was no help.
To be honest, as long as I don't have to cook it, I don't care what color the chicken is!
I think I'm cranky because I've been having trouble sleeping. I've had to take Unisom the last two nights, because I just lay there, wide awake, looking at the ceiling until 1:30 or 2 am. The neck pain thing that I saw the chiropractor (or "back quack," if you're BJ) for isn't noticably worse at night, or when I'm lying down, so I don't know what my problem is. I get tired, but not sleepy. I don't make any sense, but thank God for Unisom otherwise I'd have been a real peach today. Can an overdose of zucchini make one sleepless?
Nighty night, internets. I hear the siren song of the Unisom, calling me upstairs. A big day of laundry and gymnastics tomorrow. It just doesn't get much more exciting than this!!
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Do you ever get that feeling?
I just sent the Evite invitation for MG's birthday party, and I have that terrible, "I'm forgetting someone..." feeling. I've also had problems with Evite in the past, so if you think you should have gotten one, and you didn't, please e-mail me!! prbabies@gmail.com
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Chicken Kisses!
So, I took the punks to McDonald's today because I figured that nothing would cap off a good day of brain rotting like some salt, sugar, and transfats. Besides, it was raining all day, and we were all a bit stir crazy.Claire has just recently learned how to give kisses. It's so cute. She doesn't pucker, but she'll lean in and touch her lips to your face. Awww... Anyway, I picked her up and kissed her, and I smelled chicken nugget. Being the completely sane and rational person that I am, I said, "Oh, yum! Chicken kisses!!!" and proceeded to kiss her cheeks and her neck while saying, "Bawk bawk bawk!" This made her giggle uncontrollably, so I kept doing it, in spite of the fact that other moms were scooting their chairs away from me.
"Oh, gimme those chicken kisses!" kiss kiss kiss, "Bawk, bawk, bawk!" This went on for several minutes, until she squirmed to get down. Then Mary Grace took a bite of chicken nugget, and came over to get her chicken kisses. Then Claire wanted more. Then MG. And it went on and on.
Sometimes I wonder if the people we run into in the world think I'm completely out of my mind. Sometimes I already know the answer to that question.
(Image from the completely terrifying article I found here. Jeez!)
The Real Magic of Disney
We borrowed The Little Mermaid and Lady and the Tramp from the library. I put them on for the kids this morning, and now my house is clean. The dishwasher has run, the counters are bare, all the debris is back in its place, the laundry is running, the bathroom is sparkling and I'm about to vacuum.
That, my friends, is the true Magic of Disney.
That, my friends, is the true Magic of Disney.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
I understand in theory, but not in practice
One of the coolest parts of being a parent, IMHO, is seeing how BJ's and my personalities and features are expressed in our kids. Mary Grace has my personality (dramatic, attention-seeking, silly, funny, borderline crazy...) and BJ's eyes. Claire has BJ's personality (easy-going, nearly always happy, calm, content...) and my cheeks. Looking at the two of them makes me want to have a dozen more kids, just to see what other interesting and lovable combinations our genes can make.
And I will admit that it's hard for me, considering that Claire was a surprise, to prevent pregnancy. Every month I think, "What wonderful child am I not going to have in 9 months because I have this IUD?" I know this is a little bit nuts, but it crosses my mind. I think to myself, "If I had had this after MG was born, we wouldn't even have Claire!" and since I can't imagine life without Claire, it makes me wonder who else I'm missing.
Even though I'm politically pro-choice* I could never terminate a pregnancy, personally, unless carrying to term would jeopardize my own life. Even if I found out that a child I was carrying had a chromosomal abnormality (like Down's syndrome), I would not end the pregnancy unless it was clear that the child wouldn't survive. Even before I got married, I knew that abortion was something that I, personally, couldn't do.
So, knowing that sometimes eggs are fertilized when you have an IUD, and that the IUD makes it impossible for them to implant and grow into children... That's hard for me, too. I think about the potential, the children that could've been, and I have to remind myself of the days when I can barely handle two kids - much less every kid that I could possibly have.
What I'm slowly getting around to is that I understand the Duggar Family's reason for not preventing pregnancy. I understand the thoughts and feelings that have led them to decide that God will bless them with as many children as He sees fit, and they'll find a way to manage it. I get it. I've been very close to trying to talk BJ into a similar philosophy (although, in this house, there would be a limit to the total number of kids happening. I'm not crazy).
But, wow. 18 kids. Having to schedule one-on-one time with Mom. Kids raising their younger siblings. An industrial kitchen. Driving a short bus. I just don't think that makes sense. I don't think it's fair to the other kids, as evidenced by the looks on the faces of some of the little ones when Mom Duggar made her announcement in the video.
There just isn't enough of me to go around as it is. Frankly, I don't know how they find the time to make all these babies!
BJ and I have been kicking around the idea of going for #3. But I worry. I worry that we don't have space in this house for another child. I worry that a third child will make it hard for me to give Mary Grace and Claire the attention they need. I worry that there won't be any attention left for BJ. I worry that the cat and dog will starve. I worry about all the same things I worried about when I was pregnant with Claire, actually, and that sort of helps. I mean, I know it all worked out with Claire, so it'll find a way to work out if we have another, too.
I wonder if there's a point when you can say, "Hey, we're managing 9 (or 13 or 15), what's one more?"
How did/do you decide what size is right for your family?
*I am politically pro-choice because I don't want the government to compel any woman to carry a pregnancy to term, and because the practical ramifications of saying, "You can only have an abortion if the mother's life is in danger, if she's been raped, or if the baby is the product of incest..." are too difficult to overcome. If they said that, women who wanted an abortion would randomly accuse men of rape or incest, whether or not it had happened, to secure the abortion, then drop the charges later. What is that going to do to these men and their reputations? Who gets to decide if a mother's life is in danger? It just wouldn't work within the limitations of time and our legal system, and so abortion must remain safe and legal, IMHO. If you need to roast me, do it in the comments, and try to be respectful.
And I will admit that it's hard for me, considering that Claire was a surprise, to prevent pregnancy. Every month I think, "What wonderful child am I not going to have in 9 months because I have this IUD?" I know this is a little bit nuts, but it crosses my mind. I think to myself, "If I had had this after MG was born, we wouldn't even have Claire!" and since I can't imagine life without Claire, it makes me wonder who else I'm missing.
Even though I'm politically pro-choice* I could never terminate a pregnancy, personally, unless carrying to term would jeopardize my own life. Even if I found out that a child I was carrying had a chromosomal abnormality (like Down's syndrome), I would not end the pregnancy unless it was clear that the child wouldn't survive. Even before I got married, I knew that abortion was something that I, personally, couldn't do.
So, knowing that sometimes eggs are fertilized when you have an IUD, and that the IUD makes it impossible for them to implant and grow into children... That's hard for me, too. I think about the potential, the children that could've been, and I have to remind myself of the days when I can barely handle two kids - much less every kid that I could possibly have.
What I'm slowly getting around to is that I understand the Duggar Family's reason for not preventing pregnancy. I understand the thoughts and feelings that have led them to decide that God will bless them with as many children as He sees fit, and they'll find a way to manage it. I get it. I've been very close to trying to talk BJ into a similar philosophy (although, in this house, there would be a limit to the total number of kids happening. I'm not crazy).
But, wow. 18 kids. Having to schedule one-on-one time with Mom. Kids raising their younger siblings. An industrial kitchen. Driving a short bus. I just don't think that makes sense. I don't think it's fair to the other kids, as evidenced by the looks on the faces of some of the little ones when Mom Duggar made her announcement in the video.
There just isn't enough of me to go around as it is. Frankly, I don't know how they find the time to make all these babies!
BJ and I have been kicking around the idea of going for #3. But I worry. I worry that we don't have space in this house for another child. I worry that a third child will make it hard for me to give Mary Grace and Claire the attention they need. I worry that there won't be any attention left for BJ. I worry that the cat and dog will starve. I worry about all the same things I worried about when I was pregnant with Claire, actually, and that sort of helps. I mean, I know it all worked out with Claire, so it'll find a way to work out if we have another, too.
I wonder if there's a point when you can say, "Hey, we're managing 9 (or 13 or 15), what's one more?"
How did/do you decide what size is right for your family?
*I am politically pro-choice because I don't want the government to compel any woman to carry a pregnancy to term, and because the practical ramifications of saying, "You can only have an abortion if the mother's life is in danger, if she's been raped, or if the baby is the product of incest..." are too difficult to overcome. If they said that, women who wanted an abortion would randomly accuse men of rape or incest, whether or not it had happened, to secure the abortion, then drop the charges later. What is that going to do to these men and their reputations? Who gets to decide if a mother's life is in danger? It just wouldn't work within the limitations of time and our legal system, and so abortion must remain safe and legal, IMHO. If you need to roast me, do it in the comments, and try to be respectful.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Two Under Two and Food
This topic isn't necessarily specific to the issue of having two kids under two, but it seems to keep coming up and I really believe that I must address it. I'm pretty sure I can bring it around to the two under two issue, here...
If you're pregnant, and your right-around-one year old has been happily cruising around, eating his body weight in food every day like some sort of deranged hummingbird, are you in for a surprise when the baby comes! Because, you see, nature has a sense of humor. Nature is not to be messed with. It will get you. In fact, nature is probably trying to kill you right now... but in the meantime it wants to have a good laugh at your expense.
Enter the new baby. Your old baby is going to go through a host of rapid lifestyle changes, which will include (but not be limited to) not being the center of the universe anymore. Right around the same time, his little metabolism is going to take a serious nosedive, and he will stop eating.
If you are like me, and if you keep coming back I assume that you are at least a little bit like me, otherwise you wouldn't "get" me at all... you will blame yourself for this new development and become convinced that you have ruined his little life by having another baby, and that he has gone all Gandhi on you and will hunger-strike himself to death.
I know. I have been there. And let me tell you, Sister, all those post-partum hormones don't do you a bit of good when it comes to the guilt.
Which brings me back around to my actual point, which is so crucial to all parental happiness everywhere that I don't feel the slightest bit silly about putting it in bold text:
People, we need to Let It Go when it comes to our kids and food.
"Amy," I hear you say, "that's easy for you to say. Mary Grace thinks that tomatoes are a snack food."
Yes, I am blessed with two good eaters, but I'll tell you this. I think if you have a picky eater, you need to Let It Go Even More when it comes to your picky kid and food.
Let me back up and qualify this with the following self-reflective explanations. I have thought long and hard about food because I have a totally unhealthy relationship with it, myself. This unhealthy relationship has absolutely nothing to do with anything that my mother, father, or any other well meaning relative has ever said or done to me, so just relax. However, I am a really good cook, I come from a really long line of really good cooks, and I like food. A lot. And food likes me. And we are very fat and happy together.
I like fattening things, too, like chocolate and butter and cream cheese and every other cheese. I would vote for Ben and Jerry if they ran for president. I have had creme brulee that was more moan inducing than, well, this is a family blog, but you get the idea. If I were any more passionate about food, I'd be Italian.
BJ will nod and laugh when he reads this - I show people that I love them by feeding them. There is something very primal and satisfying, for me, about preparing a meal for my family and watching them enjoy it. The first Christmas gift I ever gave BJ had a strong chocolate and coffee theme. I cooked for him for our first Valentine's day (Hawaiian chicken). One of our best early dates was the picnic we took to Columbian Park (chicken and ranch pasta salad). Who else remembers meals that they ate 11 years ago?
Food figures prominently in all my memories of family and happiness and love and togetherness and closeness (deviled eggs, shrimp with cocktail sauce, grandma's coffee, heart-attack potatoes, Kathy's crescent rolls, peanut butter cookies, Welsh cookies, orange bowknots...). I can not imagine a family get together without food (and, more recently, wine, which makes family get togethers even more fun than they used to be).
Because I love my kids an awful lot, my natural tendency is to feed them an awful lot. This is fine when they're in the hummingbird phases, but it's not so good when they're in the photosynthesizing phases that all kids go through - the ones where they can happily live on Ovaltine and sunshine for three months, and still maintain their growth chart percentiles.
Therefore, I knew early on that I was going to have to rope it in, when it comes to food, if I didn't want to have to roll my kids to preschool. I remember discussing it with BJ before we even had kids - I think he was mad at me for giving Max too many scraps, and he said, "Our kids are going to be enormous if you feed them like this..."
He was right. I can't throw pieces of bacon under the table for the kids at breakfast. And since Purina doesn't make Human Baby Chow (yet), I needed to figure out a way to have a healthy relationship with food for my kids.
MG and C are clearly healthy, so I think I've done a very good job, so far, even though I tend to say, "Want a cookie?" more often than I probably should.
Here's what I have learned, and that is important when it comes to Letting It Go. 1) Toddlers generally eat one "good" meal a day, and they graze the rest of the day. 2) Even though they may have entire days where they refuse to eat anything but (fill in the blank), left to their own devices, toddlers will actually self-select a reasonably healthy diet over the course of a week or so.
I have compiled a list of Dos and Don'ts for toddler eating, which I will present to you now. Picture me as Moses, coming down from the mountain...
1. Thou shalt not force thy child to eat.
2. Thou shalt provide nutritious food for thine offspring.
3. Thou shalt not require that thy child clean his plate.
4. Thou shalt request that thy child try one bite of each offering (because it takes like 700 exposures before kids realize that they like some things... I'm still at 632 for a few things, myself, like Brussels sprouts... Ugh!)
5. Thou shalt not make a federal case of it if thy child refuses to try one bite.
6. Thou shalt allow thy child to have a peanut butter sandwich if he pronounces thy dinner "yucky."
7. Thou shalt not take it personally, even if thou hast slavethed all day.
8. Thou shalt serve one thing at every meal that thou knowest thy child will eat.
9. Thou shalt remember that no child has ever starvethed himself to death.
10. Thou shalt Let It Go.
Supernanny can go jump. That authoritarian little limey has some serious power issues going on. I think she only became a Nanny so that she would be the tallest person in the room, personally. And is there a University of Nanny anywhere? I don't think so. If you want to raise a mutant army of little robots who can't think for themselves and talk funny, be my guest. If you want your kids to speak to you after they leave the house, tell Supernanny to bugger off, and follow my advice. After all, I went to college and studied child development, applied behavioral analysis, etc. etc. etc. I am Supermommy, hear me roar.
And seriously... Little Gandhi is not going to starve himself in protest of his new sibling. He's fine. It's just a coincidence. Let It Go.
If you're pregnant, and your right-around-one year old has been happily cruising around, eating his body weight in food every day like some sort of deranged hummingbird, are you in for a surprise when the baby comes! Because, you see, nature has a sense of humor. Nature is not to be messed with. It will get you. In fact, nature is probably trying to kill you right now... but in the meantime it wants to have a good laugh at your expense.
Enter the new baby. Your old baby is going to go through a host of rapid lifestyle changes, which will include (but not be limited to) not being the center of the universe anymore. Right around the same time, his little metabolism is going to take a serious nosedive, and he will stop eating.
If you are like me, and if you keep coming back I assume that you are at least a little bit like me, otherwise you wouldn't "get" me at all... you will blame yourself for this new development and become convinced that you have ruined his little life by having another baby, and that he has gone all Gandhi on you and will hunger-strike himself to death.
I know. I have been there. And let me tell you, Sister, all those post-partum hormones don't do you a bit of good when it comes to the guilt.
Which brings me back around to my actual point, which is so crucial to all parental happiness everywhere that I don't feel the slightest bit silly about putting it in bold text:
People, we need to Let It Go when it comes to our kids and food.
"Amy," I hear you say, "that's easy for you to say. Mary Grace thinks that tomatoes are a snack food."
Yes, I am blessed with two good eaters, but I'll tell you this. I think if you have a picky eater, you need to Let It Go Even More when it comes to your picky kid and food.
Let me back up and qualify this with the following self-reflective explanations. I have thought long and hard about food because I have a totally unhealthy relationship with it, myself. This unhealthy relationship has absolutely nothing to do with anything that my mother, father, or any other well meaning relative has ever said or done to me, so just relax. However, I am a really good cook, I come from a really long line of really good cooks, and I like food. A lot. And food likes me. And we are very fat and happy together.
I like fattening things, too, like chocolate and butter and cream cheese and every other cheese. I would vote for Ben and Jerry if they ran for president. I have had creme brulee that was more moan inducing than, well, this is a family blog, but you get the idea. If I were any more passionate about food, I'd be Italian.
BJ will nod and laugh when he reads this - I show people that I love them by feeding them. There is something very primal and satisfying, for me, about preparing a meal for my family and watching them enjoy it. The first Christmas gift I ever gave BJ had a strong chocolate and coffee theme. I cooked for him for our first Valentine's day (Hawaiian chicken). One of our best early dates was the picnic we took to Columbian Park (chicken and ranch pasta salad). Who else remembers meals that they ate 11 years ago?
Food figures prominently in all my memories of family and happiness and love and togetherness and closeness (deviled eggs, shrimp with cocktail sauce, grandma's coffee, heart-attack potatoes, Kathy's crescent rolls, peanut butter cookies, Welsh cookies, orange bowknots...). I can not imagine a family get together without food (and, more recently, wine, which makes family get togethers even more fun than they used to be).
Because I love my kids an awful lot, my natural tendency is to feed them an awful lot. This is fine when they're in the hummingbird phases, but it's not so good when they're in the photosynthesizing phases that all kids go through - the ones where they can happily live on Ovaltine and sunshine for three months, and still maintain their growth chart percentiles.
Therefore, I knew early on that I was going to have to rope it in, when it comes to food, if I didn't want to have to roll my kids to preschool. I remember discussing it with BJ before we even had kids - I think he was mad at me for giving Max too many scraps, and he said, "Our kids are going to be enormous if you feed them like this..."
He was right. I can't throw pieces of bacon under the table for the kids at breakfast. And since Purina doesn't make Human Baby Chow (yet), I needed to figure out a way to have a healthy relationship with food for my kids.
MG and C are clearly healthy, so I think I've done a very good job, so far, even though I tend to say, "Want a cookie?" more often than I probably should.
Here's what I have learned, and that is important when it comes to Letting It Go. 1) Toddlers generally eat one "good" meal a day, and they graze the rest of the day. 2) Even though they may have entire days where they refuse to eat anything but (fill in the blank), left to their own devices, toddlers will actually self-select a reasonably healthy diet over the course of a week or so.
I have compiled a list of Dos and Don'ts for toddler eating, which I will present to you now. Picture me as Moses, coming down from the mountain...
1. Thou shalt not force thy child to eat.
2. Thou shalt provide nutritious food for thine offspring.
3. Thou shalt not require that thy child clean his plate.
4. Thou shalt request that thy child try one bite of each offering (because it takes like 700 exposures before kids realize that they like some things... I'm still at 632 for a few things, myself, like Brussels sprouts... Ugh!)
5. Thou shalt not make a federal case of it if thy child refuses to try one bite.
6. Thou shalt allow thy child to have a peanut butter sandwich if he pronounces thy dinner "yucky."
7. Thou shalt not take it personally, even if thou hast slavethed all day.
8. Thou shalt serve one thing at every meal that thou knowest thy child will eat.
9. Thou shalt remember that no child has ever starvethed himself to death.
10. Thou shalt Let It Go.
Supernanny can go jump. That authoritarian little limey has some serious power issues going on. I think she only became a Nanny so that she would be the tallest person in the room, personally. And is there a University of Nanny anywhere? I don't think so. If you want to raise a mutant army of little robots who can't think for themselves and talk funny, be my guest. If you want your kids to speak to you after they leave the house, tell Supernanny to bugger off, and follow my advice. After all, I went to college and studied child development, applied behavioral analysis, etc. etc. etc. I am Supermommy, hear me roar.
And seriously... Little Gandhi is not going to starve himself in protest of his new sibling. He's fine. It's just a coincidence. Let It Go.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
A Pox Upon Us?
Under the heading of, "things she'll kill me for sharing with the world when she's a teenager," MG pooped in the tub last night. So, we pulled the kids out, and they were exhausted and freezing so I just said, "Oh hell, it's just a little poop," cleaned them up as best I could with wipes, put their jammies on, and started putting them to bed (while BJ cleaned up the mess, God love him).
MG was really itchy while I was trying to get her to sleep. I actually scolded her (hello, Guilt! Are you back again?) because she wouldn't lie still. I figured that there was a little soap left on her, or that her scalp itched because she hasn't had her hair washed in a couple days.
I finally got her to sleep around 10:15, and she was back up at 12 am, crying and a little hysterical. Now, she still isn't sleeping through the night (I know!), but usually she just calmly comes and sneaks into our bed, because she's learned that if she wakes me up I take her back to her room. So the crying was weird.
BJ took her back to her bed while I finished getting Claire back to sleep (she had gotten up before MG, and was almost out again). She continued to cry, "I need my mommy!" This is also unusual. Usually she'll register a token protest if Daddy takes her back to bed instead of Mommy, but this went on, and on, and on...
I finally went in there and the 3 of us laid down together. "Mommy, rub my back!" she said, as she hitched up her nightie. She likes "skin to skin" contact. After rubbing her sides for a few moments, I noticed that she felt bumpy. BJ had dozed off by this time, so I woke him up and made him turn on the light (she would've spazzed if I'd gotten up, and he would've been awakened anyway, so I saved us the spazzing by preemptively waking him up). I could see bumps all over her side. "Go get my dad!" I said, thinking, "Oh my God, she's having an allergic reaction to her antibiotic!"
Dad came up right away (it is so convenient having a nurse in the house!) and said, "It looks like chicken pox." It's not blistered (yet?) but it's raised and red. He said the pattern wasn't what you'd expect for an allergy or hives, and that antibiotic allergies are usually respiratory. He went to the pharmacy for us to get benedryl and calamine lotion, and I kept her awake by telling her about what TV was like when I was a kid. Have you ever tried to explain The Flintstones? It sounds completely insane.
I asked Dad to be sure to get the correct dose for a 30 pound kid. Apparently the pharmacist said, "Oh, we can't even recommend that for kids under 6 anymore. Now, if you'd asked before, the dose for a 30 pound kid used to be half a teaspoon, but I can't tell you that now. Sorry," wink wink.
I would like to invite the person or people who decided that a few stupid parents overdosing their kids was sufficient reason to take all cold medicines away from all parents of children under 6 to see me in hell!
Anyway, the benedryl that is Not Recommended but extremely effective knocked her out like a prize fighter and she even slept all night! This morning I called the doctor's office and said, "Did I decline to have MG vaccinated for chicken pox back when I'd never had a sick kid and didn't know any better?" and they said, "No, she had the vaccine, and she's not due for another dose until kindergarten..." and I explained what was going on, and that she was on antibiotics, and the nurse advised me to hold off on giving her any more antibiotic until she's been seen, just in case.
So, that's that. Either she's allergic to antibiotics or she has chicken pox. I guess that even someone who is vaccinated can get chicken pox, but it's usually a mild case. The chicken pox vaccine is live virus, and Claire got that vaccine on Friday, so it seems to me that if she caught it from a weakened strain (in the vaccine) and if she has had the vaccine, she shouldn't get a bad case, right? I'm waiting to call the mommies of all the kids who were here on Sunday until I know what we're dealing with. No sense freaking Karen and Jenny out by saying, "Owen, Cameron, and Monty were exposed to chicken pox..." if it's an allergy, right? They have plenty of time to lay in supplies of black market benedryl and calamine lotion, if it is chicken pox. Hell, I'll even deliver. That's the kind of friend I am. I may give your kids disease, but I will do whatever I can to help you through it!
MG was really itchy while I was trying to get her to sleep. I actually scolded her (hello, Guilt! Are you back again?) because she wouldn't lie still. I figured that there was a little soap left on her, or that her scalp itched because she hasn't had her hair washed in a couple days.
I finally got her to sleep around 10:15, and she was back up at 12 am, crying and a little hysterical. Now, she still isn't sleeping through the night (I know!), but usually she just calmly comes and sneaks into our bed, because she's learned that if she wakes me up I take her back to her room. So the crying was weird.
BJ took her back to her bed while I finished getting Claire back to sleep (she had gotten up before MG, and was almost out again). She continued to cry, "I need my mommy!" This is also unusual. Usually she'll register a token protest if Daddy takes her back to bed instead of Mommy, but this went on, and on, and on...
I finally went in there and the 3 of us laid down together. "Mommy, rub my back!" she said, as she hitched up her nightie. She likes "skin to skin" contact. After rubbing her sides for a few moments, I noticed that she felt bumpy. BJ had dozed off by this time, so I woke him up and made him turn on the light (she would've spazzed if I'd gotten up, and he would've been awakened anyway, so I saved us the spazzing by preemptively waking him up). I could see bumps all over her side. "Go get my dad!" I said, thinking, "Oh my God, she's having an allergic reaction to her antibiotic!"
Dad came up right away (it is so convenient having a nurse in the house!) and said, "It looks like chicken pox." It's not blistered (yet?) but it's raised and red. He said the pattern wasn't what you'd expect for an allergy or hives, and that antibiotic allergies are usually respiratory. He went to the pharmacy for us to get benedryl and calamine lotion, and I kept her awake by telling her about what TV was like when I was a kid. Have you ever tried to explain The Flintstones? It sounds completely insane.
I asked Dad to be sure to get the correct dose for a 30 pound kid. Apparently the pharmacist said, "Oh, we can't even recommend that for kids under 6 anymore. Now, if you'd asked before, the dose for a 30 pound kid used to be half a teaspoon, but I can't tell you that now. Sorry," wink wink.
I would like to invite the person or people who decided that a few stupid parents overdosing their kids was sufficient reason to take all cold medicines away from all parents of children under 6 to see me in hell!
Anyway, the benedryl that is Not Recommended but extremely effective knocked her out like a prize fighter and she even slept all night! This morning I called the doctor's office and said, "Did I decline to have MG vaccinated for chicken pox back when I'd never had a sick kid and didn't know any better?" and they said, "No, she had the vaccine, and she's not due for another dose until kindergarten..." and I explained what was going on, and that she was on antibiotics, and the nurse advised me to hold off on giving her any more antibiotic until she's been seen, just in case.
So, that's that. Either she's allergic to antibiotics or she has chicken pox. I guess that even someone who is vaccinated can get chicken pox, but it's usually a mild case. The chicken pox vaccine is live virus, and Claire got that vaccine on Friday, so it seems to me that if she caught it from a weakened strain (in the vaccine) and if she has had the vaccine, she shouldn't get a bad case, right? I'm waiting to call the mommies of all the kids who were here on Sunday until I know what we're dealing with. No sense freaking Karen and Jenny out by saying, "Owen, Cameron, and Monty were exposed to chicken pox..." if it's an allergy, right? They have plenty of time to lay in supplies of black market benedryl and calamine lotion, if it is chicken pox. Hell, I'll even deliver. That's the kind of friend I am. I may give your kids disease, but I will do whatever I can to help you through it!
Sunday, January 13, 2008
I can be taught!
There's a big brou ha ha going on here about Dr. Sears and attachment parenting and MomGuilt and so on. Because I have learned from previous experience, I am NOT going to comment over there.But since y'all keep coming back, I guess you must have at least a moderate interest in what I might think, and so... Here's what I think about Attachment Parenting, Dr. Sears, etc.
*drumroll*
I have two very different babies. Mary Grace Needs. She Needs attention, affection, love, touch, everything with a capital N. From the moment she was born, she was completely addicted to "the nurse." She would wake up whenever I tried to put her in the cradle or the crib. She needs almost constant stimulation and interaction, unless she's watching Mickey Mouse, in which case she's like, "Shut up and get out of my way, Mom, the Mouse is on." She is intense. She is demanding. She is (dare I say it?) difficult. Ok, not every day. Some days she's not difficult at all, but she is always challenging.
When Mary Grace was my only child, I thought that every baby Needed as much as she does. So, it made sense that the parenting method I used to survive (attachment parenting, in which you nurse on demand, co-sleep, and baby wear, among other things, but those are the holy trinity of AP) was the method I thought everyone should use. If I wasn't nursing her, sleeping in the same bed as her, or wearing her, she was screaming, for like the first 8 months of her life. Clearly, I thought, if all babies needed as much as MG, then any parent who didn't AP wasn't giving their child what s/he truly needed, and therefore sucked.
Yeah.
Then I met Claire. Claire sleeps. Claire sleeps so much that when she was new and sleeping in the bassinet, BJ and I would walk by and check, often, to make sure she was still breathing, because we couldn't believe that a baby would sleep that much. Claire entertains herself. She's perfectly happy to sit and watch the world (especially her fascinating big sister). Claire likes her father. MG didn't really warm up to BJ until she was bigger, mainly because he was not in possession of The Nurse. Claire, on the other hand, will get hurt and reach for him (which, to be honest, blows my mind after dealing with MG, but once I get over my initial, "HEY! I'm the mom! You want ME!" reaction, I'm glad to encourage). Claire will crawl away from someone to play with a toy by herself. Claire would bite me, then crawl away to play with something by herself if I tried to nurse her 24/7, whereas MG would still happily lie in bed and nurse all day if I'd let her (which I won't - it's safe to say, now, that she is officially weaned. Hallelujah!).
In other words, I would drive Claire insane if I tried to parent her the way I parented MG. We still co-sleep because I'm lazy and I don't want to get up in the night, but she starts the night in the crib - something MG didn't do until she was 12 months old, maybe older, it's hard to remember through the sleep deprivation. Claire will wean much earlier than MG did, because she's not a nurse addict. I wear her in the sling because I need my hands to wrangle MG, but she's just as happy in the cart or the stroller. I wear her because I want to, because I enjoy it, not because I have to.
In other words, different kids have different needs, and smart parents (am I flattering myself too much if I say good parents?) adapt their parenting style/philosophy to the kid they have.
You parent the kid you have. You give your kid what he or she needs to be happy and successful, insofar as you are able to do so. What works for my kid may or may not work for your kid. What works for your first kid may or may not work for your subsequent kids. So can we all stop judging each other and just get on with the business of doing what's best for our kids, ourselves, and our families?
And as for the "experts," I think it's a good idea to follow my rule - I only accept parenting advice from people whose kids I would want to live with. I might use other people (even people without kids) for ideas, or solutions I hadn't thought of on my own, but if someone whose kids are holy terrors (not that any of YOUR kids are holy terrors, I'm talking about foolish people who don't read my blog!) tells me that I'm wrongity wrong wrong, well, let's just say that I don't spend a lot of angst on their opinion. I don't know Dr. Sears' kids, or Dr. Ferber's kids, or Dr. Seuss' kids for that matter, and they don't know mine, so I reserve the right to completely ignore everything they say if it goes against my instincts, and you should too.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Sometimes everything falls apart
How is it that the people you love the most are the same people who make you the most crazy?
How is it that the people who love you the most are always the ones you hurt the most?
How is it that the "most wonderful time of the year" hurts so badly?
Why can't I just be happy?
I heard this song on the radio a few minutes ago:
...and that just kind of said it all.
Sometimes there just. Isn't. Enough. Zoloft.
I'm sorry I can't be perfect.
How is it that the people who love you the most are always the ones you hurt the most?
How is it that the "most wonderful time of the year" hurts so badly?
Why can't I just be happy?
I heard this song on the radio a few minutes ago:
And now I try so hard to make it
I just want to make you proud
I'm never gonna be good enough for you.
I can't pretend that I'm alright
And you can't change me
'Cuz we lost it all.
Nothing lasts forever.
I'm sorry I can't be perfect.
Now it's just too late and
We can't go back
I'm sorry
I can't be perfect.
I just want to make you proud
I'm never gonna be good enough for you.
I can't pretend that I'm alright
And you can't change me
'Cuz we lost it all.
Nothing lasts forever.
I'm sorry I can't be perfect.
Now it's just too late and
We can't go back
I'm sorry
I can't be perfect.
...and that just kind of said it all.
Sometimes there just. Isn't. Enough. Zoloft.
I'm sorry I can't be perfect.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
My head is going to explode
It really is true that ignorance is bliss. Check this out.The more I learn about our way of life - the things we eat, the things we buy (even the way we package the things we buy!), the things we give our kids to entertain them so that we have time to eat and buy more stuff, and the staggering and profound effect these activities have on our bodies, our budgets, and our planet.....
...the more I get overwhelmed, which makes me want to go out and eat things and buy stuff.
I do some things right. I buy our beef from BJ's uncle, who raises it about 45 minutes from here. While we still eat beef in restaurants, the majority of the beef we eat is healthy (no hormones or antibiotics, grown on a real farm not in a factory, etc.). I mean, if we wanted to we could go visit the cow that they're going to butcher for us. How many people can say that? I also buy produce at the farmer's market all summer. This year I'm going to buy a share of a farm co-op, so we'll have local fresh produce from about April to October - so we'll be eating locally and seasonally - using less energy (transport), and getting better nutrition. I asked for reusable grocery bags for Christmas. I try to buy local, both at home and at work, even when it means spending a bit more. And we recycle more than anyone else in our neighborhood. And we try to reuse, too. Plastic grocery bags are used to clean up after Max. Print outs from work come home for MG to color, then get recycled. I use Tupperware instead of Ziplocks whenever I can. We keep the thermostat between 65 and 68 in the winter, and between 75 and 78 in the summer...
But I could do better. Just like I could eat better. There's always room for improvement, right?
I think for 2008 I'm going to take a seriously look at living more "green." Some of my ideas include:
- Using cloth napkins instead of paper.
- Using rags instead of paper towels.
- Eating at home instead of eating out.
- Cooking from ingredients instead of buying pre-made ("perimeter shopping" they call it - shopping around the outside of the grocery store and staying out of the aisles).
- Planning ahead when going out and taking things along (like coffee or drinks) rather than buying them out.
- Buying less stuff. I have everything I need - I don't need any more "retail therapy."
- Watching even less TV. Spending more time with people and less time in front of screens.
- Walking/biking more, driving less. I'll have BJ put the trailer on my bike in the spring, and the girls and I can ride to the grocery store and the farmer's market. It's not far.
- No longer shopping at "Big Box Marts," buying everything that I can locally (or going without).
- Buying fewer things for the kids, spending the energy and money, instead, on outings and experiences (and books, of course).
- Going to the library for books and videos, instead of going to the store.
- Consuming less high fructose corn syrup - cutting out soda and packaged foods, and replacing them with water and things I've made myself from actual ingredients.
- Phasing out harmful household chemicals, and phasing in more natural cleaning products.
- Eating vegetarian more frequently.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Mythbusters
We went and saw the Mythbusters at Purdue this afternoon. They had a Q&A session. We were in the nosebleed section, but it was really interesting.
I'll tell you what, reading a book about the plague makes it really hard to enjoy public events. The kid behind us kept snuffing his nose, and I thought I was going to come unglued. The people next to me were rude, too. They were talking the whole time to the people in front of them (their kids, I think) and the daughter, a teenager, was laying over the seats like she was in her living room. It was extremely annoying, and made it hard to concentrate. Still, it was nice to get out (away from our kids, even if we were a little too close to other peoples' kids) for a bit.
I'm not sure what's wrong with me today. I have no patience at all. The kids are driving me crazy. Claire's not sleeping well, preferring to practice her crawling instead of lying down and going to sleep. I've yelled at MG more today than I ever have before. For example, I had just folded up some blankets and put them on the quilt rack in the nursery, when she came upstairs. I asked her to go back downstairs. Then she pulled all the blankets down and I yelled at her to go downstairs and stop making messes. I just get so tired of cleaning and cleaning and literally having her come right behind me and screw it back up again.
I think it goes back to this business of having the house and the office in shambles. I just can't take it. It's like fingernails on a chalkboard to me, only it doesn't stop until things are in order again. We're doing the best we can, but there just isn't enough time in the day to take care of the kids and do everything that needs to be done with all these "projects" that keep coming up. Sometimes it's all I can do to keep everyone fed and in clean clothes. I finally got the summer stuff put away and the outgrown clothes pulled out of the kids' room tonight. That project only took 3 weeks.
Anyway, who would've thought that I'd become a neat freak? My room was always a disaster area growing up. Even in college, I used to drive Amanda nuts because didn't keep things as clean as she did. BJ must have hypnotized me or something.
I took a nap this afternoon with the kids (long night, Claire's teething and still fighting this cold, so she's waking up more than usual), so I'm planning on staying up late tonight to straighten things up. BJ's mom is coming tomorrow to watch MG so I can work (thank God for Grandmas!). Maybe if I can get on top of some of this stuff I'll feel better. If not, I think I might have to go see Dr. Joel about upping my Zoloft. I can't go on feeling like this. And Christmas always makes me nuts - I need to go into the holidays healthy, not feeling like a crazy person.
I'll tell you what, reading a book about the plague makes it really hard to enjoy public events. The kid behind us kept snuffing his nose, and I thought I was going to come unglued. The people next to me were rude, too. They were talking the whole time to the people in front of them (their kids, I think) and the daughter, a teenager, was laying over the seats like she was in her living room. It was extremely annoying, and made it hard to concentrate. Still, it was nice to get out (away from our kids, even if we were a little too close to other peoples' kids) for a bit.
I'm not sure what's wrong with me today. I have no patience at all. The kids are driving me crazy. Claire's not sleeping well, preferring to practice her crawling instead of lying down and going to sleep. I've yelled at MG more today than I ever have before. For example, I had just folded up some blankets and put them on the quilt rack in the nursery, when she came upstairs. I asked her to go back downstairs. Then she pulled all the blankets down and I yelled at her to go downstairs and stop making messes. I just get so tired of cleaning and cleaning and literally having her come right behind me and screw it back up again.
I think it goes back to this business of having the house and the office in shambles. I just can't take it. It's like fingernails on a chalkboard to me, only it doesn't stop until things are in order again. We're doing the best we can, but there just isn't enough time in the day to take care of the kids and do everything that needs to be done with all these "projects" that keep coming up. Sometimes it's all I can do to keep everyone fed and in clean clothes. I finally got the summer stuff put away and the outgrown clothes pulled out of the kids' room tonight. That project only took 3 weeks.
Anyway, who would've thought that I'd become a neat freak? My room was always a disaster area growing up. Even in college, I used to drive Amanda nuts because didn't keep things as clean as she did. BJ must have hypnotized me or something.
I took a nap this afternoon with the kids (long night, Claire's teething and still fighting this cold, so she's waking up more than usual), so I'm planning on staying up late tonight to straighten things up. BJ's mom is coming tomorrow to watch MG so I can work (thank God for Grandmas!). Maybe if I can get on top of some of this stuff I'll feel better. If not, I think I might have to go see Dr. Joel about upping my Zoloft. I can't go on feeling like this. And Christmas always makes me nuts - I need to go into the holidays healthy, not feeling like a crazy person.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
A word about C
MG woke C up tonight. I'd put C to bed, and MG decided to scream, "I do not like the bath!" at high volumes and pitches while we were trying to rinse the spaghetti off of her. Since the bathroom shares a wall with the girls' room, it was no surprise when I went in to check on C and found her wide awake.
So, I gave her to BJ, got MG to bed, and then got C and took her up for another nurse down.
I thought she was asleep, so I got out of the rocker and laid her in the crib. She then woke up, again, but didn't seem agitated. By this time I really needed to visit the restroom (mommies ought to wear diapers, too, for the times when no one wants to go to sleep easily!), so I thought, "When ya gotta go, ya gotta go!" and left her in the crib while I took care of things.
When I came out, she was still quiet. So, I sat at the top of the stairs for a while, and waited for her to start screaming. Remember, I had put her down sleepy, but awake.
She didn't start screaming. So, after a few minutes I came downstairs. Then BJ called and told me to come outside (he was on the cell phone) because he could see the shuttle and the International Space Station overhead. So, I ran out to watch them go over, and got to see about 1/3 of the path across the sky (this is what we nerds do for fun, when we're not polishing our slide rules and making custom pocket protectors). It was very cool. (He had looked up the time and date of the flyover on NASA's website beforehand, it wasn't just like he was out in the front yard looking up and saw them and knew what they were).
That took a couple of minutes, and I was out of earshot of the monitor, so I figured that they'd both be screaming (one having awakened the other) by the time we got inside. We came back in, and all was eerily quiet.
So, I read a couple of your nice comments (I love your comments, they make me feel like I'm not just talking to myself in a large empty room!), and heard a squeak over the monitor. "Here it comes," I thought, "I knew it was too good to be true..." and I sent BJ up to check on C.
She was asleep. She was just stirring because the light from the monitor's transmitter was in her eyes. She put herself to sleep. This is something that MG has never done without a lot of hysterics and screaming. I didn't actually believe that kids were capable of putting themselves to sleep without screaming, much less when they're only three months old.
Holy crap.
I can't just enjoy it, of course. I have to look this gift horse in the mouth. I feel like I'm neglecting her if I don't cuddle her to sleep every night, the way I have MG. I feel like I'm playing favorites, somehow (even though she earns major points in this house for being a good sleeper). I feel like I'm being unfair to her. This happens during the day, too. She is just so mellow - she doesn't care if I leave her in the swing for a bit while I play with MG, or unload the dishwasher or something. MG screamed like I was dipping her in acid if I didn't hold her at all times. Or, at least, that's the way I remember it. Everything from that time of life is a little fuzzy, now. I do remember being able to make Thanksgiving dinner for the family the year she was born, and she was only about 3 months old, then, so she couldn't have been that bad. I also made a ton of cookies for Christmas that year... So, ok, she wasn't miserable every minute, and I managed to get some things accomplished, but we also spent a lot of time just sitting and nursing for hours and hours.
Looking back, I know that I did it wrong. I used nursing as a pacifier with MG (because it worked) . I didn't have any other tricks. Now, I know other tricks, so I don't need to do that with C. I know how to bounce and swaddle and shush and sway, and I can calm her without nursing (and without a pacifier, incidentally). I fully expect that I will still be nursing MG when C weans, simply because MG is a total nursing junkie. BJ knows new tricks, too, so he is more effective at calming C than he was with MG (the video below, notwithstanding). Basically, when MG was little, all I knew how to do was nurse her (plus, we had major supply issues, so I *had* to nurse her a lot to keep a supply up, and blah blah blah, it was a mess).
So, am I doing C a favor by not turning her into a nursing addict? Probably. Am I doing myself a favor? Definitely. Would I go back and do things differently with MG? Not a chance, because if I did, she might not turn out to be who she is. Do I worry that I'm somehow changing who C is by not doing the things I did with MG? Yep.
Basically, I'm damned if I do, and damned if I don't. If I do what I did with MG when it comes to C, I'll create another nursing junkie. If I don't, I'll feel guilty that C isn't getting what MG got at the same age.
I have to keep reminding myself what I learned in college, when I was studying to be a special ed teacher - "fair" isn't giving everyone exactly the same thing. To truly be fair, you have to give everyone what they need. C, apparently, needs less than MG did. Since MG still needs a lot, I'm lucky. C is healthy and happy. I can't beat myself up. I can't keep score. (I'm also pretty sure that C has a mild case of reflux, and noodling me all day may just plain hurt her. She is a business nurser - get in, get done, get on with life. So different!).
Who knows, maybe C will teach MG to fall asleep by herself.
(I probably need to stop comparing them to each other, but that's another Momguilt for another night).
So, I gave her to BJ, got MG to bed, and then got C and took her up for another nurse down.
I thought she was asleep, so I got out of the rocker and laid her in the crib. She then woke up, again, but didn't seem agitated. By this time I really needed to visit the restroom (mommies ought to wear diapers, too, for the times when no one wants to go to sleep easily!), so I thought, "When ya gotta go, ya gotta go!" and left her in the crib while I took care of things.
When I came out, she was still quiet. So, I sat at the top of the stairs for a while, and waited for her to start screaming. Remember, I had put her down sleepy, but awake.
She didn't start screaming. So, after a few minutes I came downstairs. Then BJ called and told me to come outside (he was on the cell phone) because he could see the shuttle and the International Space Station overhead. So, I ran out to watch them go over, and got to see about 1/3 of the path across the sky (this is what we nerds do for fun, when we're not polishing our slide rules and making custom pocket protectors). It was very cool. (He had looked up the time and date of the flyover on NASA's website beforehand, it wasn't just like he was out in the front yard looking up and saw them and knew what they were).
That took a couple of minutes, and I was out of earshot of the monitor, so I figured that they'd both be screaming (one having awakened the other) by the time we got inside. We came back in, and all was eerily quiet.
So, I read a couple of your nice comments (I love your comments, they make me feel like I'm not just talking to myself in a large empty room!), and heard a squeak over the monitor. "Here it comes," I thought, "I knew it was too good to be true..." and I sent BJ up to check on C.
She was asleep. She was just stirring because the light from the monitor's transmitter was in her eyes. She put herself to sleep. This is something that MG has never done without a lot of hysterics and screaming. I didn't actually believe that kids were capable of putting themselves to sleep without screaming, much less when they're only three months old.
Holy crap.
I can't just enjoy it, of course. I have to look this gift horse in the mouth. I feel like I'm neglecting her if I don't cuddle her to sleep every night, the way I have MG. I feel like I'm playing favorites, somehow (even though she earns major points in this house for being a good sleeper). I feel like I'm being unfair to her. This happens during the day, too. She is just so mellow - she doesn't care if I leave her in the swing for a bit while I play with MG, or unload the dishwasher or something. MG screamed like I was dipping her in acid if I didn't hold her at all times. Or, at least, that's the way I remember it. Everything from that time of life is a little fuzzy, now. I do remember being able to make Thanksgiving dinner for the family the year she was born, and she was only about 3 months old, then, so she couldn't have been that bad. I also made a ton of cookies for Christmas that year... So, ok, she wasn't miserable every minute, and I managed to get some things accomplished, but we also spent a lot of time just sitting and nursing for hours and hours.
Looking back, I know that I did it wrong. I used nursing as a pacifier with MG (because it worked) . I didn't have any other tricks. Now, I know other tricks, so I don't need to do that with C. I know how to bounce and swaddle and shush and sway, and I can calm her without nursing (and without a pacifier, incidentally). I fully expect that I will still be nursing MG when C weans, simply because MG is a total nursing junkie. BJ knows new tricks, too, so he is more effective at calming C than he was with MG (the video below, notwithstanding). Basically, when MG was little, all I knew how to do was nurse her (plus, we had major supply issues, so I *had* to nurse her a lot to keep a supply up, and blah blah blah, it was a mess).
So, am I doing C a favor by not turning her into a nursing addict? Probably. Am I doing myself a favor? Definitely. Would I go back and do things differently with MG? Not a chance, because if I did, she might not turn out to be who she is. Do I worry that I'm somehow changing who C is by not doing the things I did with MG? Yep.
Basically, I'm damned if I do, and damned if I don't. If I do what I did with MG when it comes to C, I'll create another nursing junkie. If I don't, I'll feel guilty that C isn't getting what MG got at the same age.
I have to keep reminding myself what I learned in college, when I was studying to be a special ed teacher - "fair" isn't giving everyone exactly the same thing. To truly be fair, you have to give everyone what they need. C, apparently, needs less than MG did. Since MG still needs a lot, I'm lucky. C is healthy and happy. I can't beat myself up. I can't keep score. (I'm also pretty sure that C has a mild case of reflux, and noodling me all day may just plain hurt her. She is a business nurser - get in, get done, get on with life. So different!).
Who knows, maybe C will teach MG to fall asleep by herself.
(I probably need to stop comparing them to each other, but that's another Momguilt for another night).
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)