World Momma

First day back at work

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Sat, 02 Jul 2011 02:15:00 +0000

My first day of work has come and gone. I went to work today and am now officially back at the office.

As far as transitions go, this was an easy one. I only worked a half day, then will work only 1.5 days next week, before going up to 2.5 days the following week. So it was more like a reintroduction to the office and a trial run.

There were parts I liked. I received a small promotion and will be earning a tiny bit more. It was great to be around adults, to be in such a clean office (I’d cleaned all the piles of paper before I left), and to be able to focus on a task. The free bagels on Friday made it easier, since I didn’t have to prepare breakfast, and it was nice to catch up with some people I hadn’t seen in a while.

But some things will take adjustments. Pumping is going to be the biggest issue. Though I must have put in at least five requests before and during my leave, there was no lock on my door. They promised they would install it next week. But for today, I had to pump with a “Please do not enter” sign on my door, and an inner terror that a colleague would see me with my nipples sliding through plastic shields and my body attached to my bright blue pump.

Also, sitting in one place for up to 8 or 9 hours is going to be tough. I found that challenging before my maternity leave and know it will be again. I left today at lunchtime, picked up Willow, fed her and put her down for a nap, prepared some food, ran an errand, and realized that people at work were still sitting at the office. It will be a couple of months before I have to work two or three days in a row, so hopefully alternating active with sedentary days will help early on.

Whether or not I can meet Willow’s milk needs remains to be seen. I pumped for about 50 minutes today and got only 3.75 ounces of milk. I was sure Willow would consume double that during my six-hour absence. But a great caregiver was able to keep her happy on only 3 ounces, so I did replace her consumption. I’ve commandeered the car from Mark so that I can drive to work. My plan is to come back and feed her at lunchtime on my full-days of work, and pump twice at the office in addition. This can only be temporary though, since Mark is anxious to get the car back. So we’ll have to see how it goes.

Willow must have known I was heading back, because last night was a horror. Lately she’s been waking up twice between 1 and 4 a.m., then gets up for the day at 5 a.m. Last night she seemed to be up one time after another, starting at 11 p.m. At 5:45 I had to hand her to Mark and beg for an hour of sleep. I got an hour and a half, which was great, but that gave me a later start than I’d planned on.

I’d had trouble falling asleep the past few nights and I think part of it was anxiety about going back. Now that the first day is over and done with, hopefully I will be able to relax a bit more. Nevertheless, even working only half-time, between working on a personal project, trying to get River’s baby book done, meeting my daily exercise goal, and doing other normal household management tasks, I feel like I am consistently short on time. I suppose this is part of the adjustment to having two kids. I have to identify the places where I can cut back (so far it’s cooking) and prioritize what I most want to accomplish.

Growing up

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Thu, 30 Jun 2011 02:11:00 +0000

My baby started solid foods yesterday. This picture represents the almost 18-pound child that until yesterday, was nourished and sustained by me (with a little initial help from my husband). It really is a miracle.

I had planned to wait a few more days before beginning solids, in order to maximize the milk stimulation before I head back to work on Friday. But after having her milk, she was sucking on everything in sight, including my chin, making me think she was still hungry.

I mashed a banana, as the easiest option available and she ate it with gusto, grabbing the spoon and shoving it into her mouth, sucking on the little plastic spoon with loud chomps and holding it so tightly it was a struggle to get it back to refill it.

Today she received sweet potato with breastmilk and cinnamon and ate with just as much gusto. It looks like she’ll take after River, and after me, as being someone who appreciates some good food.

At the same time she’s increasing her intake, I’m decreasing mine. I finally feel up to sticking with a diet. It’s not too severe, since I’m still breastfeeding, but the first week has gone well, so I’m hopeful more weight loss is on the horizon. I’m really looking forward to the thighs not rubbing together any more.

The toughest thing now, harder than the thought of heading back to work, is that our wonderful sleep training unraveled during the trip. I had a marvelous week solo with Willow in Iowa, in which she either slept through the night or awoke only once every night. But when we gave my friend back her magic pack and play with the dip and returned home, she’s up at least two times, often three, sometimes more, before waking up for good at 6 a.m. Last night I didn’t go to bed until midnight and she was up multiple times. It was very painful.

There isn’t much I can do when groggy and exhausted at 6 a.m. I often sit with her on the front porch. But today I decided to take a short walk. Might as well get some exercise out of it. I love the freedom that summer offers to step outside whenever we want to, to put her outside to enjoy the air, to have sunlight at 6 a.m. and well into the night.

Tomorrow is my last full day before returning to the office. I probably won’t do anything special, other than assemble the things I’ll need at the office. Because I only have to go in for four hours on Friday, and because I’ll be off for four days after that, it’s really not too bad as far as transitions go. Part of me wouldn’t mind more time off, and another part of me thinks that perhaps it could be good for me, and for Willow, to spend more time apart.

My baby's skin

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Sun, 19 Jun 2011 02:07:00 +0000

My baby’s skin is smooth like a warm lake at dawn. I run my finger from her shoulder to her hand. It falls down at the first fold, a narrow but deep canyon, where stray hairs, milk and other detritus tend to gather, then rises to the pillowy fullness of another ring of soft, luscious, velvety baby fat. Five folds separate the six marshmallows that make up her arm – grasping, reaching, exploring, wanting, loving.

Good times

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Thu, 16 Jun 2011 16:50:00 +0000

I am loving this trip with Willow. I’m feeling so lucky, so grateful, so happy. When I tried to figure out why, this is what I came up with:

1. Good sleep. Two nights sleeping through the night and two nights with only one wakeup has been absolute paradise for me. She’s also been napping four hours a day, showing me that sleep begets sleep (a cool swing at the daycare helps too).

2. Plenty of childcare. I have close to all the time I need to attend to the tasks I need to do, but I also have the flexibility to run out and feed her or to pump. I’m not able to participate in the conference or care for her perfectly, but I’m doing a good enough job on both that I’m content. River is having a blast with my parents, so I’m comfortable that he’s happy too.

3. No household chores. It’s great to be in one place for a while that is not your home. No moving, no packing, and no responsibilities. I need to pick up after us, wash the dishes, and other minor things. But no big projects, no large messy spaces. When I’m in the rooms with Willow, we can just play together. And we do. Each evening we have a 10-20 minute giggle fest, full of belly laughs. No one else is around to distract my attention from her. She is a roly-poly little doll and I love to see her smile.

4. Stimulating people and activities. My time away from Willow is spent with inspiring people who make me think and encourage me that I can make progress on some long-term projects. I enjoy my time away from her and my time with her.

5. Pumping is going well. Being able to keep up with her milk needs was what I was most worried about. I’m covering them fully, and even have a bit extra. This is thanks to a great caregiver, who is really able to make a little milk go a long way. But it’s a huge relief.

I know this won’t last forever. Reality will set in soon enough. But in the interim, I’m enjoying it.

Tonight I took Willow to part of a conference dinner. She wore a little sundress and I wore a dress. I put her in the stroller and we rolled down the street together. It was mom and daughter heading out for the night, one of many joint outings I hope. She’ll never remember this, but for me, this has been a wonderful week with my daughter.

A quiet, rainy evening with my baby

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Tue, 14 Jun 2011 13:22:00 +0000

Rain pours down, like a shower someone forgot to turn off. Thunder peals. Lightening occasionally lights up the sky. I’m in an old house on the second floor, with tiny windows that make me feel I’m looking out from an attic. Some of the windows don’t close, bringing the sound and the chill of the rain even closer.

My baby is in the next room, near one of those windows I can’t close. The drips, the bangs, the flashes surround her dreams. I want to hold to her to my chest and protect her, though I know it wouldn’t do any good. Love pours from me, as the water empties from the sky.

Parenthood eliminates the questions

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Tue, 14 Jun 2011 13:20:00 +0000

At a lecture I attended recently, a writer said that parenthood eliminates the questions about the purpose of life in a way that doesn’t happen for people who don’t have children.

In a way I understand his point. Much of my purpose at this point is to ensure safe, healthy and happy environments for my children, to ensure our genes are carried on, to do what I can so that the world is a good place for my children to live in. There is a sense of fulfillment in these activities that I appreciate and that calms me and slows me down.

For me, though, being a mother isn’t everything. I do want to touch the lives of others, I do want to enjoy the beautiful sensory pleasures the world has to offer, I want to have quiet time to focus and reflect, I want sleep and exercise and the ability to use my mind and skills.

I think becoming a parent has calmed down my need to achieve. It has made me more content with small things. I do feel a certain sense of achievement and purpose in providing my kids with a safe, loving, enriching atmosphere.

What do you think? If you are a parent, has parenthood eliminated, or reduced your questions about the purpose of life? If you aren’t a parent, what do you think the purpose of life is?

A miracle

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Tue, 14 Jun 2011 13:15:00 +0000

Last night a miracle happened. Not only did Willow sleep through the night – that itself would be a miracle, after a good 3-4 wakeups per night in the last few weeks – but she slept a whole 11 hours in a row, and might have slept more if I hadn’t awaken her.

I didn’t benefit as much from this as I could. I first awoke at 2, then several times afterwards. Each time I sat up in partial panic and partial wonder. “She hasn’t woken up yet? What’s going on? Did the babysitter do something? Did she drug her? Is she OK?”

Three times I went into her room to check on her and didn’t leave until I saw movement. By 6 a.m. my breasts were boulders and were starting to hurt. I was torn between waking her up to relieve the pressure and enjoying the blissful serenity of a sleeping child.

Today also was an experiment in trying to attend a conference with a baby and trying to keep said baby fully breastfed. It went better than expected. Willow had only 3 feedings in 9.5 hours of daycare (If she’d been with me for 9.5 hours, she probably would have had at least 6). I drove to the daycare for two of those feedings (20 minutes roundtrip each time) and the provider gave her 2 ounces of milk from a bottle.

So she only drank two ounces of expressed milk and I pumped more than two ounces today. So not only did I keep up, I have a bit of a surplus. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll try making only one extra feeding trip during the day.

The situation is working in that I’m able to attend most of the conference activities, my baby is being well cared for, and I’m able to keep up my milk supply. I’m also getting practice in how to manage work and breastfeeding without the actual pressures of work. I found that as I raced to make the 5:30 daycare pickup (I was the last one there) that I was excited to see my baby at the end of the day. And when I took her to a wine and cheese event, she was the center of attention.

But it has its downsides too. Just about every moment is spent caring for her, transporting her, feeding her, pumping or attending to conference-related things. I have no time for a leisurely lunch or a casual conversation after an event. It’s hard to network when I have to leave each session promptly to pump or to feed. When some people gathered for dinner this evening, I couldn’t join them because I hadn’t scheduled a babysitter.

Nevertheless, I think it’s as good of a balance as I can get. I’m with my baby, am able to enjoy her, and am able to maintain my milk supply. I can attend the conference, learn things, be inspired, and make connections. I can’t do either thing to the extent I’d like, but that’s the price of motherhood.

One thing I especially love about conferences is that I get to meet fascinating mothers with older children. I am reminded that these struggles are temporary, that soon enough I’ll be sleeping through the night again, and confronting different challenges. These women help me to remember that their careers and interests carry on when the children no longer assume center stage, and that it’s a good idea to have something to devote oneself to then. That makes me feel better about the balance that often feels off-kilter. As long as I keep a toe in the waters that interest me, later on I can put in a foot, then a leg, then jump fully in.

Day one of mother-infant daughter road trip

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Sun, 12 Jun 2011 13:09:00 +0000

Another rough, rough night. I don’t think Willow really slept, slept enough to allow me to sleep, until 7 a.m. Between 3 and 5 I put in earplugs. When I took them out, she was still crying. It must be teething, because this is really bad.

Miraculously, I had enough energy to make the six-hour drive, and it went pretty well. I bought a contraption to allow for hands-free pumping while driving. When I showed it to my mom, she gave me a look that said, “Why in the world are you going through all of this?” To Willow she said, “I hope you remember all your mom went through for you.”

Yes, I probably looked like a complex medical patient to any truckers that got a good look (I tried to go by truck windows as quickly as possible, and also tried my best to not get stopped). But I kind of liked pumping while driving. Since I had to drive anyway, pumping was getting another thing done, rather than preventing me from doing things as is usually the case. Since I had nothing else urgent to attend to and Willow was strapped in back, I could pump for 40, even 50 minutes. I still didn’t get a ton, but it was something and I can hope that all that time might eventually stimulate production. Though I’m starting to wonder whether the fact that I never experience letdown or leaking means my milk stays too far up. Willow is obviously able to get it but perhaps the pumps are made for women who have a letdown, allowing their milk to spill into the bottle, rather than drip, drip, nothing like mine does.

I need a sitter this evening and I asked her to come a few hours early, so that I could get prepared and have a little time to focus. Hal-le-lu-jah! It is such a fantastically wonderful feeling. A bit of quiet time to myself each day is what would have made a very good vacation great. After the absence, I appreciate and treasure it even more.

First mother-daughter road trip

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Sat, 11 Jun 2011 13:04:00 +0000

The vacation is over, Mark is gone, River is settled in to the grandparents’ house, and I’m repacked, ready to head out tomorrow with Willow on a 300-mile drive.

Part of me is really excited about the prospect of some time to read, write, think and be on my own. I’m also really excited by the town and the prospect of great food that is reasonably priced. I’m looking forward to meeting smart and interesting people with similar interests who will inspire me.

But another part of me is afraid to be on my own. Last night was a tough one. After waking Willow at 11:30, hoping I’d fill her for the night, she woke to feed at 2:30, then again at 4, and didn’t go back to sleep after that. That nice sleep training we did before the vacation has all been thrown out the window and I’m again chronically sleep deprived.

I fed her in bed, tried to roll over to go to sleep, and she excitedly, and repeatedly, kicked me in the back. At 6 a.m., utterly exhausted, I woke Mark and handed her to him. That allowed me to get a tiny bit of rest.

What will I do when I have no one to hand her to? The family daycare I’ll be sending her to opens at 7:30. So perhaps I’ll drop her off at 7:30, go back to my rented room to sleep, then go back and feed her, then pump, etc. etc. Which will mean not much of that coveted time I imagined.

I’m also worried about the breastfeeding/pumping prospects. Three weeks of frequent pumping have netted me four, yes four, bags of milk. About 32 ounces, I imagine that might last a day, a day and a fraction at most. So I will probably have to make an effort to return to her caregiver and feed her directly when possible.

There is nothing I can do but hope for the best, and be grateful that I’ve found a daycare and some sitters locally. I’ll look upon it as an adventure. Willow and I’s first roadtrip. Wish us luck.

Two weeks on the road

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Thu, 09 Jun 2011 02:18:00 +0000

Only another day or two left of the family vacation. We’ve covered over 1300 miles by car and still have another 150 to go.

It’s been good – lots of experiences and memories. I’m glad we’re doing it and am grateful we’re able to do it. But I have to admit that I’m tired. Naps have gone way down on the road and crankiness and misbehavior have resulted (mainly from the toddler). We haven’t had a babysitter since back in the Dells and I miss being able to have a few hours to myself. Whenever there is a free moment, I’m usually pumping (two weeks of work have earned me a measly three bottles of milk for next week) or visiting with relatives.

I ask River if he misses school/friends. “No, I don’t miss anything,” he says. He seems confused about how many houses we have now (our real house, our rental cabin, the relatives’ houses we’ve stayed in) and seems perfectly content to live indefinitely at any of these houses. But today he did ask me when we are going back to the red house (our house). I commented on how we’re spending time in a lot of different houses and hotels.

“We’re spending a lot of time in the car,” he said. Yes, he’s correct.

We have one more day of fun left (Paul Bunyanland!) followed by a little time with my family. Then Mark leaves, River stays with my parents, and I head down down a conference with Willow in tow.

So now my focus is moving somewhat to the conference. It’s hard to believe I’ll be there in just a few days. I’m enthusiastic about having childcare (I found a family daycare that will take her for a week) and some time to do things, but am also stressed about whether or not I’ll be able to cover her milk supply with breastmilk.

I pump for 30 minutes, get two ounces, and seem to have nothing left. Then Willow feeds and her mouth is overflowing with milk. I worry that pumping just doesn’t work for me and I don’t know why. I have such a paltry supply to bring along with me and worry that I won’t get enough by pumping. I may need to run back and feed her.

I suppose this is good practice for heading back to work in July, though I won’t be able to run back and feed her so often then. It’s a necessary change, but stressful.

Making the news

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Thu, 09 Jun 2011 02:14:00 +0000

River made the news for the first time – as the second place winner in a town turtle race. Whoo-hoo! I was so proud of my boy – with his button and ribbon.

Unfortunately, I missed seeing the actual races (qualifying, then semi-finals, then the finals). I was on a work phone call in a nearby café and was hoping he could get into a later race. But I came out to see him already a victor and watching the consolation rounds.

He’s going to appear in the local paper and that may be his first Google-worthy achievement. I can see this mentioned in his job interviews 20 years from now – So, tell us about your turtle racing experience. What are your secrets?
He did nothing more than make a lucky pick among the rental turtles, then splash it on to victory. But still, it’s really cool to see your child succeed at something, even as mundane as turtle racing.

Almost a scare

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Sun, 05 Jun 2011 02:09:00 +0000

We are enjoying a gorgeous cabin on the shores of a great lake, that we are renting with friends. Despite the fresh air, the sound of waves, and the beautiful view of forest, sparkling water and bears (no joke), I’ve been approaching panic for the past day or so.

It started out with a few brief episodes of nausea. These reminded me of pregnancy. “Could I be pregnant?” I’d think, then quickly dismiss the thought. The number of opportunities for impregnation has been extremely low, and the last one was quite some time ago. Not possible. I didn’t get my period until 11 months last time, and this time I’m breastfeeding exclusively. I’d expect my period to come a bit later than last time, not 8 months earlier.

Then I started to feel some rumblings in my stomach, kind of like cramps. Could it be my system gearing up to ovulate again? Could it just be stomach rumbling? Or, oh shit, could it be an embryo?

I noticed the tire ring around my waist and how I couldn’t bring it fully in, no matter how hard I tried. I thought about the weight gain I’ve experienced since the birth.

No, no, no! I tried to keep it out of my mind. But then I started to panic. Though I think I’d like a third child someday, I don’t want one now.

Firstly, my body is a mess. I’m still carrying around an extra 35 pounds and am in horrible shape. My body couldn’t handle another pregnancy now, at least not without long term or permanent damage.

There is my job. How in the world could I ask for another six month leave just five months after returning from the last one? Would I even have a job anymore? Or would I have to take a shorter leave – and how in the world could I manage that with two small tots?

There is the general panic about my inability to care for two small needy children and the thought that I’d be seen as a breeder, which has never been my primary identify. I also knew that another one so soon would probably drive Mark off the edge.

Then there are the children. River would end up taking a huge backseat with two babies spaced a year apart. And it wasn’t fair to Willow to have to stop breastfeeding her earlier than I intended, to not give her the individual attention I wanted her to have, to not have our full attention to marvel at her early accomplishments.

So I’d have to think seriously about abortion. Really, I wouldn’t want another child now. But then again, I’d really hate to have an abortion. I have nothing against abortions, but it’s something I’d prefer to avoid if I can. I’m so happy with the two children I have, I wondered if I’d always wonder what that embryo could have become. And while another child would be killer on me physically, and on both of us psychologically in the short term, we could probably swing it if we had to.

How stupid had I been? I wanted to avoid the hormones of birth control while I could, and also, I have a strange, but strong, curiosity about how my body works, when it will return to its cycles. But was all that worth the possibility of having another child within a year? Dumb.

I could take a test when I got back home, because there was nothing I could do about it on vacation. But a month is a long time to wait. Finally, I couldn’t take the stress anymore. I went out and bought a pregnancy test. This was only the third test I’d taken in my life and it was the first time I held my breath hoping, hoping for a negative.

The negative sign appeared and I gulped in a full breath. Thank goodness.

Vacationing, or trying to, with two little ones

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Thu, 02 Jun 2011 01:39:00 +0000

It’s hard to believe we are just over a week into our vacation. We have crammed so many experiences and events into so few days, and I’m so exhausted I sometimes wonder if this is really a vacation. It is for River, I remind myself. And I have the pleasure of watching him enjoy things.

I’ve definitely had some fun. I was able to go down some waterslides in the Dells, to enjoy the Wisconsin Ducks, to have a good meal, to visit with relatives, to luxuriate in the rare hour or two to myself. But since Mark has had to continue to work while on vacation (hopefully today is the last day), I’m spending most of my time planning, executing or cleaning up.

It’s interesting to be reminded of the variety of people and life experiences in the U.S. I’m surprised to find myself in the agricultural heartland, and to learn that here, grass-fed milk and free-range chickens are really hard to come by. I’m reminded of the poverty – of people who travel to get a job that pays $10 an hour, people who drive from one supermarket to another to buy the things on sale, people who live in the waterpark capital of the world, yet have never been to the major parks, because it costs too much to take a family of 10.

In some places, I long for the beauty of the land and the friendliness of the people. In others, I find the limited perspectives so claustrophobic I can’t wait to get away. My mom grew up in the latter type of place and as I grow older, I respect her ability to escape.

One relative in this place told me how she dissuaded her daughter from becoming a physical therapist.

“It takes eight years of school,” she said. “So I sat down with my daughter and I asked her what kind of mother she wants to be. Does she want to be a working mom or a stay at home mom? She said she’d like to stay home if she can. So I did the calculations with her. We looked at the cost of eight years of school, how old she’d be at that point, and how many years she might be able to work before having kids. The math did not work out. She wouldn’t make enough to cover the cost of the education. So I suggested she become a physical therapist assistant instead. That only requires two years of education.”

The argument seems logical on the surface. However, it ignores the fact that spouses tend to have similar levels of education. If she were to get more education, she’d be more likely to meet more educated men. Her chance of having a husband who could earn enough to allow her to stay home would increase.

Then there is the fact that a mother’s level of education has significant impacts on her children’s education levels (this mom who talked her daughter out of her dream has a high school education).

And then there is life after kids. Even if this girl wants to spend 15 or 20 years at home raising children, she still has a lot of time left in her expected life. Being well educated would give her more options, either in her chosen field, or in another area.

I knew that many young people in these areas have less access to information about educational options or career possibilities beyond those they see in their communities. However, I was reminded that some young girls are still discouraged from pursuing their dreams, even by those they love.

Tomorrow we face the longest drive of the trip – up to ten hours without stops. So far the kids have behaved quite well in the car. We brought limited toys – a couple of books and a couple of Matchbox cars. Sometimes River talks incessantly, other times he sleeps. But there have been no major problems so far.

Willow’s beautiful sleep schedule, with the 10:30 p.m. and 5:30 a.m. feedings, went out the window with this trip. I’m now feeding her repeatedly throughout the night again. I’ll just have to wait until we get home, and perhaps until I’ve been back at work a while, to reinstate the schedule.

One nice discovery we’ve made through the forced close quarters is that River and Willow are able to sleep in the same room without disturbing each other. Willow goes to sleep first and River is able to go to bed and fall asleep without bothering her. She wakes up crying for food in the night and River does not emerge from his deep sleep. This is reassuring, since we were planning to put them in the same room after we returned home.

Another big change is that River has been forced to sleep in a big boy bed for the first time. At the first hotel, the beds were very high and unfortunately, he fell out. Since then, we’ve pushed his bed against the wall when possible, and put carry-on size suitcases on either side of him. He hasn’t fallen again since and he stays in bed for his naps and his sleep without a problem.

We also ran the experiment of letting him skip his nap, for several days in a row. There was just too much fun stuff to do, and too many relatives to see, to force him to sleep the afternoon away. I found out that he can manage without the nap, but he does get cranky, and he also picked up a bad cold (that he subsequently passed on to Willow and to me), perhaps due to reduced immunity. I worried that after going so long without it, he might not resume napping. However, now that the flurry of activity is over, I’ve been giving him his nap again and he is sleeping. Whew! That quiet afternoon time is a lifesaver for us.

All in all, I’m learning that traveling as a family of four is possible, it can be fun, but that extra hands (family or a babysitter) make for a much more enjoyable time. We’ve learned that we carry a lot of crap for a 3-4 week trip and that a full-size car is a nice luxury. We are sharing lots of special moments and I’m grateful for this time. But I also look forward to future vacations, when they are older and more independent and I can sit back and read for a bit while they do something of interest to them.

The vacation begins

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Wed, 25 May 2011 14:36:00 +0000

Day two of vacation and so far, I’m having a good time. We found a couple of babysitters on care.com and today the first one helped us out while Mark was working. It’s made it a lot less stressful to have one adult for each child. I’m able to feed Willow, do some fun things with River, and have a little down time when Willow is napping.

I have carried fond memories of Wisconsin Dells since my visit here as a young teenager. It is still as fun as I remembered it and I’m really enjoying seeing River experience it. We’re at a complex with indoor and outdoor waterparks and indoor and outdoor theme parks. Even though it is raining, there is plenty to do and River’s day is just one long continuum of fun.

I took Willow for her first swim and was able to try all four of the waterslides myself. I love our hotel room, which has a king-size bed for us and a second room with beds for the kids. Best of all, since we’re here midweek and before Memorial Day weekend, the prices are low and the crowds few. We don’t have to wait in line for anything.

I’ve been eating yummy and unique food – homemade macaroni and cheese, a couple of great salads, cheesecake with pop rocks and a pomegranate cupcake with ginger frosting. It’s good to be on vacation.

First flight with two kids

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Mon, 23 May 2011 23:48:00 +0000

We managed to get everything in reasonable order and to leave the house on time (thanks in large part to a friend who invited River over to play for three hours on Sunday). The only minor mishap took place enroute to the airport shuttle. Traveling for a month with two kids requires a ginormous amount of stuff. More stuff than can fit into a compact car. So Mark first brought the double stroller over to the pickup site, dropped it off, then returned for us and the luggage.

When we returned, the stroller was gone. I was the one who suggested leaving it, thinking it unlikely that patrons of the business-oriented hotel would be interested in stealing a stroller at 7 a.m. So I had a minor internal panic, imagining how I was going to manage the entire trip with Willow in an Ergo, until we found out that the hotel staff had moved the stroller and we were able to get it back.

The five-month old, on her premier flight, spit up at least four times, showering herself, myself and my husband, but thankfully, not any other passengers.

The three-year-old was an excited bundle of energy and was bouncing off his seat. At least in between his bouts of eating – a pint of blueberries, cookies, pretzels, a bowl of mixed fruit, a bagel.

No prolonged screaming though and our neighbors were still willing to speak to us at the end of the flight. So I suppose that overall, it wasn’t bad.

We arrived exhausted, but thankful for a comfortable place to stay and a nice meal. We rented a full-size car, which feels like a luxury, but still presents a struggle to fit everything. The research I did said that our 21-pound Joovy Caboose ultralight was one of the lightest, most portable double strollers. Perhaps it’s because I haven’t used any other double strollers, but man, is that thing a pain to carry around.

We’ll squeeze whatever we can in tomorrow, and leave the rest with family. River was excited about the flight, and now he’s excited about the waterpark. One of the best parts of this trip for me will be sharing in his excitement.

Trip preparation stress

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Sat, 21 May 2011 21:42:00 +0000

On Monday we leave town for a month. This is the first time Willow is going on a plane and the first time we’ve taken such a long trip. I’m just now realizing how much work it is to pack for myself and two kids, especially when we are so limited by the airlines in what we can bring. Luckily, we have a friend at our destination willing to lend us baby gear, and we’ll be borrowing a bunch of stuff from my parents. I also ordered some essentials – oatmeal, raisins, diapers, wipes, etc. to be delivered to my parent’s house.

I have a horrible tendency of experiencing something similar to third trimester nesting whenever I leave for a trip. I don’t want to leave a single dirty garment, even if it means getting up at 6 a.m. on the day of departure to throw the last dirty items in the washer. All those papers that have been sitting there forever – I really must sort through them all. The junk on the countertops should be cleared off. Those clothes that don’t fit any more – freecycle them. All garbage must be removed, even from the garage.
It’s ridiculous, because if I haven’t had time to get to these items in the preceding months, I certainly don’t have the time while trying to pack. But the day or two before leaving is usually a mad rush to try to get as many of these little tasks done as possible. The fact that we are renting out our house during our absence means there is even more pressure to leave things in good condition.

Mark has been working very long hours, trying to get his work done before we leave. But it looks like it won’t happen and that he’ll need to work quite a bit during the first week of the trip. So among the many other preparatory tasks, I’ve been looking for a local sitter in Wisconsin. It’s not going to be much of a vacation for me if I have to manage a toddler and an infant at a waterpark on my own. Thanks to care.com I think I’ve found someone.

So while my days are now a continual to-do list, I know I’ll eventually finish. We’ll be forced out of the door, ready or not, to get our flight and then the fun will begin. We’ll be seeing tons of relatives, visiting some new places, and both River and Willows will have many new experiences. River is already very excited about the waterpark and his enthusiasm is contagious.

It’s going to be a lot of work taking care of two kids on the road. I’m seeing that already, just in the act of packing. But I hope it will be fun too. The next post will probably be from the road.

Kiddie underwear

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Wed, 18 May 2011 21:40:00 +0000

I have only made a single underwear purchase for my kids so far. When Talbots decided to get rid of their children’s line of clothing, I bought a couple of underwear sets for River. Each pair featured a letter and an animal, or a fun item like robots or baseball. But he’s grown out of them and while we are happily using hand-me-down Spiderman and Cars underwear from a friend’s child, it may not be enough.

I’ve been spoiled by the cuteness of the Talbot’s underwear. I’m sure some basic Hanes would do just fine, but River seemed to get pleasure out of choosing a pair of fun underwear each morning.

An online group I belong to got into an underwear discussion. Among the types recommended by other parents were Gap, Hanna Andersson and Claesen’s. But these aren’t cheap.

Do you have a favorite underwear you buy for your kids (boy or girl)? Is this something it’s worth spending more on, or should I stick with the cheap stuff?

Having a role model

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Tue, 17 May 2011 20:20:00 +0000

It can be kind of a downer these days to hear all the chatter about work-life balance. This discussion is necessary, because nothing will change unless people talk about what needs to change. But the discussion exists only because people (especially women) feel they can’t do it all. So many women who have reached the pinnacle don’t have children, are not married, or have a husband who is already retired or stays at home. And many women with children make sacrifices that keep them from reaching what they might have otherwise accomplished.

So who am I going to show Willow as a potential role model? What kind of women can I teach her about that have lived full lives in both spheres?

I wouldn’t have thought Pakistan would be the first place to look. But I’m watching a PBS documentary on Benazir Bhutto (called Bhutto) and I’m in awe. This is a powerful, educated, committed, passionate woman who lived by her ideals, fought the system, and also operated within the political realities. She married and had children, assuming the office of Prime Minister only three months after her first children was born.

Coming from a wealthy and powerful family, I’d imagine she had the resources for all the domestic help she might want or need. The lack of affordable, quality childcare is, I believe, a major contributor to women feeling pressured to pull back from their career goals. Nevertheless, it still can’t have been easy for her. While I watched her being sworn in, I wondered, was she lactating? Did she worry about leaking? Were her boobs about to explode? That is what would be on my mind three months after giving birth. Or perhaps, for the good of a country, she decided not to sacrifice herself to on-demand feeding.

In doing a little googling, I found this essay she wrote, in which she describes letting her kids watch cartoons, when she didn’t really want to, because she had to leave for a meeting. She also admits to constant doubts about whether or not she’d make the grade.

I’d like to come up with a list of women that serve as role models, not only for me, but for Willow. I’d like to buy books about these women and have their images and their stories accessible to Willow, stories of women with deep, complex and varied characters.

Besides Benazir Bhutto, who else would you suggest putting on the list?

The welcoming presence of normalcy

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Mon, 16 May 2011 18:52:00 +0000

I’m still in shock that Willow adjusted so easily to the bassinet. The night adaptation went OK, but surely naps will be a struggle I thought. Nope.

For the first time I can gaze down upon her sleeping. She sleeps with both arms raised over her head, the same way I have for the past few years. While the trip may well mess things up, as well as teething or other things I can’t yet foresee, I’m hopeful that we’ve made it through the rough period. That both kids are now on a schedule, and our lives will now operate on a calmer flow.

Breastfeeding is now easy, natural and enjoyable. I can cradle her in my arms, feeling the heft of her growing, but still tiny body, as she flicks her tongue against my nipple, and think of nothing but appreciation for her presence in my life. It’s hard to believe how very difficult it was and how long the problems endured. Like labor, it’s almost hard to remember what the pain felt like. I just know it was bad, that I wouldn’t wish anyone to have to go through that, and that I’m pretty amazed we made it through.

Speaking of normalcy, I met a friend’s mother at a birthday party this weekend who seemed to have definite opinions on what is normal and what is not. It seemed she didn’t consider me part of that category.

First she commented how her grandfather has the same name as River. Her grandfather is the same ethnicity as the country the name comes from.

“Are you?” she asked. No.

Upon hearing me speak Spanish, she asked if I was Spanish. No. At that point her eyes crossed.

She asked if I’d been in the Peace Corps. Yes. “You seem like the type who would do that,” she said.

Then she asked about my husband.

“Where is he from?”

I told her.

“That’s boring.” Then she asked what he did.

“An engineer? That’s so normal. How did you end up with him?” She paused. “Well, I guess a family can only handle one like that.” Like me, she meant. How does one answer that?

Day at the Farm

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Sun, 15 May 2011 18:47:00 +0000

Mark needed time to work, so I needed an activity that would keep us out of the house for a good chunk of the day. A party thrown by a farmer that included a lot of good food was an incentive for me to wrangle both of the kids and drive them over an hour away from home.

We spent all afternoon at this farm, and River had a blast bringing our scraps of food directly to the pigs, watching chickens run around freely, and seeing happy families of cows grazing on abundant pasture.

The farmer offered a tour, which I thought involved walking up a hill to see the cows at pasture, then walking back down. Note to self – find out how long the walk is before you take a baby and a toddler on it. I think it could have been a good two miles and it was all dirt trails, the same paths the cows walk on. Many parts were muddy and most of the walk was on uneven ground. Thank goodness I didn’t try to bring the stroller, because we would have never made it.

I carried Willow in the Ergo and she fell asleep for much of the hike. River was a pretty good sport, but he doesn’t like uneven surfaces, so he wanted to hold my hand. When a long time had passed, we were the last people by far, and he was starting to wear down and complain, a woman offered to carry him for me. When I accepted, she asked her husband to do it.

Carrying 36 pounds without a carrier, along a rutted dirt trail, is not easy. But this guy did it and was able to carry him far enough that River found the energy to complete the remaining part without complaint.

It was nice to spend an afternoon in the fresh air, to be served a good meal, and to be able to take a hike. It was good for River to have such close contact with the animals. He doesn’t seem at all troubled by the fact that we eat the animals they raise, asking me if we could kill a cow. But there was a constant sour smell in the air, which I realized was the pigs. After watching them roll in the mud, eat whatever garbage was thrown to them, and squeal, I understood why so many religions (Muslims, Jews, Seventh Day Adventists and some Orthodox churches) ban or discourage eating pork. If only it didn’t taste so good…. Despite my reservations, I bought some pork chops to take home.

After such a long hike, so much fresh air, time spent bouncing on the trampoline, and no nap, River should sleep well tonight.

So far, Willow is sleeping well too. During our first night of transition, she woke up twice and cried for just over five minutes each time. Not bad for what is supposed to be the worst night. Tonight she went to sleep with what sounded like a few complaints, but no real crying. Yay! When kids sleep well, adults sleep well and we are all a happier family. I have hope for a less stressful vacation.

Who is really standing in the way of progress?

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Sat, 14 May 2011 18:40:00 +0000

Last night Mark wasn’t feeling well, just at the time I’d woken Willow for her feeding and we were going to try to put her to sleep in the bassinet. So we postponed the transition to tonight. Perhaps it will be better, I thought, as we’ll have the first trial run at her 7 p.m. bedtime. It would be easier for Mark to deal with a couple of difficult hours in the early evening than the late evening.
We stayed out late visiting friends, so I wasn’t able to get her ready for bed until 8. I had my share of stressing about it again today, giving her extra kisses, treasuring her smiles, dreading what I expected would be extended crying.
When I brought her up to the bassinet, I realized it was out of batteries. So I couldn’t even give her an initial 20 minute vibration as an adjustment. I held her, considering asking Mark to change the batteries, but decided it wasn’t worth delaying her bedtime even more. I kissed her, lay her down in the bassinet, and put the hippo head of the soft hippo blanket we’ve been using regularly in the swing within her reach. As she batted at the hippo’s head, I turned on the white noise lamb, that we began using only last night (I was hoping for one more sleep aid). I put on the sound of ocean waves, cranked up the volume, and put the timer on the maximum of 45 minutes. I stroked her cheek, left the room, and noted the time on the Sleepy Planet sleep chart, positioned in the office (our command center) across the hall.

As I headed downstairs and switched with Mark (I’d put River to bed while he comforted Willow), I was surprised to not yet hear any crying. As I walked back upstairs with River to read him his story, I still thought an outburst must be coming. Twenty minutes later, stories complete, it was still quiet. “Did we win the lottery?” I asked Mark, shocked that this step I dreaded so much was so completely painless.

Perhaps it helped that she went to bed an hour later than usual and might have been tired enough to not protest. Maybe the sleep aids were familiar enough. It’s possible that the still bassinet is more comfortable for her than a constantly rocking swing in which her head always falls forward. In any case, she went to sleep without a peep. And I realized all my worry was a lack of confidence in her ability to adapt. It was me/us/the parents that were the barrier to her making progress to an easier/safer sleeping solution. Which makes me wonder how often this is the case, how often we hold our kids back because really, it’s us who are afraid.
I doubt this will be easy forever. At some point – perhaps when I wake her for her feeding in 20 minutes, or perhaps during a daytime nap, when the room is brighter and she’s not as exhausted – she’ll likely resist the still, boring sleeping surface. And then, we’ll have to go back to our original plan of comforting her, but letting her work her way through it and adapt. In the meantime though, I’m amazed at how easy it was to introduce a transition I feared and am humbled by the realization that I held her back.

Nervousness

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Fri, 13 May 2011 18:50:00 +0000

In the quiet still of 9:23 p.m., I hear River still chatting in his bed and the rhythmic echoing boom of the swing, as it rotates from side to side, beating like a giant squeaky heart. Will this be the last time I hear it?
There is just over an hour left until I have to wake Willow up, then we put her down in a new environment. I feel sickly nervous, hating the thought of placing her so suddenly into a new reality and forcing her to adjust. It feels like a metaphor for life, that as much as I want to keep her in one place, she moves out of one stage and into the next, hurtling toward the situations that will both invigorate her and hurt her. I look at the fuzzy pink Easter bunny she received from her great grandma and I want things to remain soft and beautiful for her. I want her to remain, at least for a few more moments, a tiny baby whose needs I can meet, fully and perfectly.
But the swing doesn’t meet her needs, I remind myself. It can’t be comfortable to have her head thrown forward and to the side every time she sleeps, nor can it be good for breathing, or for development. If only there was a gradual way to move from one way of doing things to another.
Boom, boom; squeak. Boom, boom; squeak. River’s babbling in his crib seems to take on the three quarters beat from the swing. The time is approaching.

Thankfulness

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Fri, 13 May 2011 18:47:00 +0000

Things are a little stressful right now. We are about to leave for a month. So Mark is working until 10 p.m. every night, trying to get to the point where he can leave his work for several weeks. That leaves me with a lot of extra childcare and household work, in addition to trying to get ready, to get some exercise, and to prepare for my conference.

And tonight we are going to make the big change, moving Willow from the swing to a firm surface. I think it’s going to be miserable and I’m dreading it. I’d put it off longer, but we are leaving in just over a week and she needs to learn how to fall asleep on a still surface before then, or our trip is going to be a nightmare. Also, we have reached the point where we hate the swing. Every time we go to retrieve her, her head is bent over against the bar. That can’t be good, and I’ll try to remember that as she’s screaming.

I’d like to do it when she goes to bed at 7, but Mark won’t be here and it’s too much for me to handle the 5-15 minute comfortings and putting River to bed. So we’ll wait until her 10:30 p.m. feeding and put her in the bassinet after that.

I’m stressed by thoughts of packing/organizing/preparing, my weight, my return to work in six weeks, a busy summer, and random injustices (like this one). But despite these petty stresses, I’m overwhelmed with a feeling of thankfulness and gratitude. I look at my children and they are healthy, happy, vibrant and confident. The combination of who they were born to be, and the way we have raised them seems to be working out so far, and I find that incredibly fulfilling.

It feels better now that I’ve reached the point of being able to confidently manage them both. I’m enjoying being able to do so many things with them and to experience the small moments of their days. I tend to massively overschedule myself, just because I’m interested in way too many things and I do the same thing when I’m with the kids.

No, I can’t just take them with me on an errand to an outlet mall. I have to find a fun attraction (train museum, that takes several hours) and a good place to eat to make it worth the drive. On the agenda for this weekend is a visit to the gym (the last before my membership expires), a birthday party, a playdate, a pancake breakfast at the airport and a party at a farm. Sometimes I wonder if I’m grooming River to expect this much activity and entertainment. Will be soon be bored if he’s not doing four or five things per weekend? But then I think of all the exposure he’s getting to different places, ideas and people.

I am a learner and an explorer (as well as an overscheduler) and I’m largely choosing things to do that I think are interesting, or will be interesting to him. Sometimes I learn something or have fun, and sometimes I have the enjoyment of watching him have those experiences.

Yes, I dream of time to read books, to exercise, to think deeper thoughts, to accomplish more things. But overall, I think I have a good life. I’m so grateful for my family, my education, my flexible maternity leave and the resources I have access to. I feel very lucky.

No stealing imaginary friends

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Mon, 09 May 2011 14:02:00 +0000

We attended a party this weekend where there were three other three-year-old boys. One is an aggressive child who frequently tackles other children. One has been quite sweet when I’ve seen him in the past, but seemed susceptible to influence from the aggressive one. And one, who I hadn’t met before, was described by his parents as gentle.

Gentle boy has imaginary friends, including an imaginary sheep. While the three of them were playing outside, gentle boy began to cry, saying that the other boys had stolen his imaginary friend. No one saw it happen, so not much was done besides his parents comforting him.

Later, when we were all inside, I heard the usually sweet boy run past gentle boy and tell him he was stealing his imaginary friend. The gentle boy began to cry.

Sweet boy’s father pulled him aside. “I want you to go return the imaginary sheep and say you are sorry.”

So this boy walks back to the crying child, carrying an imaginary sheep in his outstretched arms.

“Here you are,” he said, as he placed it beside gentle boy. “Sorry.”

That was the funniest interaction I’ve seen among toddlers. Mark thought that gentle boy should have had more confidence in his imaginary friends that they would stick by him. Some of the parents wondered how they could know if their kids were stealing imaginary friends. The parents were put on the spot – how do you enforce typical rules and values as applied to imaginary creatures?

Have you come across any interactions among kids lately that have made you laugh?

Things I'm grateful for this mother's day

noreply@blogger.com (worldmomma) — Sun, 08 May 2011 18:49:00 +0000

• Being able to sleep until I woke up naturally (sometime around 9:30). I’d forgotten what that felt like. Then enjoying a few moments reading in bed before getting up. Wow.
• A gorgeous, sunny day with blue skies and arcs of green boughs.

• A humungous buffet meal at my favorite restaurant

• Being able to walk over six miles. Some of it strolling through gardens with the family. Much of it walking through town and along a canal with my baby.

• Feeling more confident about being able to manage both kids on my own for a whole day.

• Not being back at work yet. I spoke with a couple of colleagues who said they’ve been under pressure to put in long hours lately. I’m glad not to have that stress right now, to have a couple of months of beautiful weather in which to enjoy lots of quality time with my kids.

• My computer had a virus, so I was kept away from the internet for the weekend, which meant I couldn’t use my online calorie tracker. Oh well. Those desserts were good.

• An event-packed several days, including a visit to an outlet store and the purchase at a steep discount of several pieces of cookware I’ve been longing for, a visit to a train museum that River loved, a family photography session in the park (the only way I can get Mark to agree to an annual portrait is to ask for it for mother’s day), watching an Indian dance and painting crafts with River at a community event, and a party at a friend’s house.

• Starting to feel the possibility of a little bit of time that makes me think perhaps I can tackle at least a few of my long-overdue nesting projects before I get back to work.

• Safety and health.

• A trip to look forward to, to plan for and to hopefully generate some family memories, perhaps even for River.

• Having two sweet, healthy children and a loving, helpful spouse.

At lunch, Mark toasted me and thanked me for what I do as a mom. My eyes filled with tears as I thanked him for my wonderful family. He was never very enthusiastic about having kids and still feels he could have done without them. Yet he went along with it because it was important to me and he tries to contribute an equal share in raising them.

I was never one to aspire to marriage or parenthood. I thought it would be part of my life eventually, but it wasn’t much of a focus of my dreams until I reached my late twenties. Despite this late start, I’m so very thankful to be able to call myself a wife and mother. Yes, it comes with stresses, compromises, lack of sleep and severe limitations on freedom. Yet it has taught me to love and to open my heart to expanses I never imagined before. It has reawakened my wonder in the world and the processes within it. It has allowed me to step back from focusing on my own goals, and to derive joy from providing opportunities for my children to learn. It has allowed me to feel pride in the simple accomplishment of giving my child a safe, loving, and enriching start to life.

Happy mother’s day to all those engaged in the most important work of all.