It’s been a struggle for my husband and me to decide on the proper and correct way to approach our daughter’s “strong will and independence,” as we like to naively refer to it as. The teacher in me constantly leans towards the rainbows and butterflies approach, and wants to focus solely on positive reinforcement and praise:  “Oh Aybree, what a great job sitting like a big girl eating your dinner!” …even though 3 minutes earlier she chucked a piece of turkey at the dog. My husband, on the other hand, believes that consequences are a necessity, especially when a warning has been given, and there is no doubt that she knows what she’s doing is wrong. He will put her in a time out (which, even though it kills me to see, I know she deserves), and as she sits facing the wall she cries for mommy. It breaks my heart…and she knows it.  Don’t get me wrong, my husband is amazing with Aybree and praises her constantly for good behavior, jumping up and down, big hugs, stickers, the whole 9. And because of that, I figured it was time I tried his approach as well.

Bedtime has proved to be one of Aybree’s favorite times to test out her new role as sassy toddler.  We are consistent with our nightly routine: read a couple books, sing her a song, then she picks 2 puppies to sleep with (she has about 100 to choose from, and between those and her other animals we refer to her room at the Becker Family Zoo).  I always bragged about how great of a sleeper she is, when it’s time for bed she goes to bed. “I can count on one hand how many times in 2 years she’s gotten out of bed,” I would say. Carma, irony, jinxing myself…however you want to look at it, I guess I had it coming.  For the past few weeks we have encountered every know excuse in the book for coming out of her room. “I have to go potty!” Fine, you just went 4 minutes ago, but we are potty training, so we will let that one slide. “eh eh (picture the world’s worst fake cough)…I have a bad cough mommy, I need water so I don’t get sick.” Whatever, here’s your sip of water, even though I’m sure that will lead to another potty break in 15 minutes. “What’s that on my wall daddy, it’s scary, come here let’s go.” It’s the same light switch that has been there since you were born, go to bed Aybree.  My finger hurts right here, what’s that on my foot, we have to read this book, oops I never got my candy for going potty…and the list goes on. Finally, I decided to try the consequence approach.  When she came out of her room for the 9^th time one night I brought her back to her room, put her in her bed, and laid down the threat…”Aybree, you need to stay in bed. If you come out again mommy is going to take one of your puppies out of your bed.” She said, no no, those are my puppies, and at the same time gave me the “yeah right, mom, who are you kidding?” look.  No more than 3 minutes later she was out again, this time for a snack…my husband looked at me as if to say, “you have to do it,” so I walked back into her room with her and said, “I’m sorry honey, mommy has to take one of your puppies now.” And now picture the world’s worst mom coddling her child, trying for 15 minutes to get her to stop crying, and eventually giving her puppy back. Yep, I gave it back…but the new irony is that this sweet and sour approach actually worked. Since the horrific incident, she has only attempted to come out of her room twice, and a quick puppy threat has put her right back to bed.

I know I say this often, as I believe it holds true for so many scenarios when raising a child, but I don’t think there is a right or wrong approach when it comes to many aspects of parenting, including discipline and dealing with the terrible two’s. Each child is different, each parent is different, and each situation is different.  It’s a matter of trial and error (and don’t be concerned if there seem to be a lot of errors). No one ever said this job was going to be easy…not every job is as easy as that of a two year old.

A lot sure changes in a year. Parenting changes you. It teaches you patience. It teaches you how to truly multitask. It teaches you how to do things with one hand. There’s always all sorts of hype in the media, including the recent TIME magazine article, about how to parent, things you should do, and things you should not do. As far as I’m concerned, as long as you love your child, try your best, and never put them in harm’s way, you’re doing a good job. Congratulations.

I’ve been taking a meditation class but even meditation is not helping me to cool down on this one. TIME is claiming there is a battle in motherhood in America. Really?!?! Where have they been for, oh, I don’t know…forever? My oldest is 24 years old. Back then (and time eternal before) if you worked, you felt guilty for not being at home. If you were at home, you felt guilty for not working.  If you breastfed, people pushed formula on you. If you formula-fed you were beaten up for not breastfeeding. Shall I go on? The world’s oldest profession is not prostituion, it’s motherhood and guilt is the gift that society hands you as soon as you find out your’re pregnant.

The shameful thing is that TIME had a golden opportunity to open up a real dialog on parenting. Instead, they allowed the “sexier” “hotter” topics of breastfeeding beyond what the AAP recommends as being extreme to become one of the moving tagets. Extremism is the nasty monster under the bed. 

Feel the need to hold your baby rather than let him cry? Extreme! Want to eek every moment out of your time with your little one? Extreme! Feeling exhausted because you’re trying to juggle things? Extreme!

And to make matters worse, they hold  Dr. William Sears up as the evil mastermind of attachment parenting. He took a beating today that is beyond believable. Let me just say this: attachment is as old as human beings. TIME could have read the whole library wing on this topic but decided to blame the poor pediatrician for something that was never his to begin with.

Parents, ignore the smoke and mirrors that TIME and society are using to alter your sensibilities. Here is the truth: Parenting is unbelievably hard. It’s also unbelievably wonderful. And it would be much easier if editors, writers and the lady standing in line behind you at the market didn’t judge you so hard. But, they will. So the solution is to take a really deep breath and then smile. Because guess what: YOU“RE the parent. Which means this is your child to raise, to learn from, to teach, to cry over, to cherish, to cheer, to break your heart in a thousand and one little ways and then mend it again with one big, sloppy smile. If your persecutors want to step in and do it for you, tell them to come on in at 3 am when everyone except the baby is exhausted and take over. But I can promise you that not a one of them will.

As for me, I’ll not be buying an issue of TIME magazine again. If I want mindless chatter I’ll read something more worthwhile, like PEOPLE magazine.

HAPPY MOTHERS DAY!!!! You are doing a great job, whether anyone else acknowledges it or not. And I respect each and every decision you make as the mom. Now go give that sweet baby a hug

I am a happy 32 weeks along now, and nothing could have put a bigger smile on my face than my doctor giving me a congratulatory high five at my weekly appointment. That reassurance from him that this was milestone #1, and if, for some reason, my little one would make his appearance now, the chances of him being happy, healthy and thriving at this point are excellent (insert gigantic sigh of relief). Suddenly, the complaining and feeling sorry for myself for the last 6 weeks seemed petty, and the motivation and desire to push through till my next milestone (34 weeks) took full force. 6 weeks already down, what’s another 2 or 4…or even better another 6?! My ultimate goal, my biggest milestone, is 36 weeks, and I will be here on the couch dreaming about it, but regardless of when this baby boy comes, I know that we have made it this far and the light at the end of the tunnel is getting bigger by the day.

I believe that for an expectant mother, on bed rest or not, goals and milestones are wonderful. Even in the easiest of pregnancies it can be hard: the fun aches and pains, realizing you can’t paint your own toes anymore, the day where you make 2 stops at the fast food restaurant and wash everything down with a chocolate shake, then feel guilty afterward, or when you meet that lovely stranger who can’t help but say, “wow, you must be having twins, you’re huge!” I’m sure we have all been to the point where we just can’t wait for it to be over and hold our sweet baby in our arms. Having a goal or milestone to look forward to makes that day seem so much closer, and helps to realize that, even though we already know it, sometimes we need a little reassurance that it will all be worth it in the end. Maybe that “something” to look forward to is a weekly milestone, like myself, maybe it’s a baby shower, maybe it’s an ultrasound appointment… whatever the case, just keep pushing through and work towards it. Before you know it, this big day will be here, and there will be a whole new set of milestones to look forward to with your precious little baby.

I have mentioned before that my 2 year old daughter Aybree is quite verbal, in fact she has been referred to by many as my little mini me. She will say things that make us laugh because as sincere as she is about it, hearing certain words or phrases coming out of a toddler’s mouth is just hilarious.  The other day, as we were all sitting on the couch together reading a book, Aybree decided to grace us with her words of wisdom beyond her years once again.  She slowly slid off the couch, walked into the kitchen, and stood by the pantry.  It was then that she yelled, “daddy, can you come here for a second, I need a snack?”  For a moment I looked in to the kitchen and was fully expecting a teenager to be standing by the door, and at the same time had a flashback of holding my infant daughter in my arms wondering what life would be like when she was this age.

Again, I do realize that this wasn’t a milestone moment by any means, but it was my moment. The point in time where for just a split second I was praying that time would stand still because the thought of her getting any bigger was heart breaking. The moment passed, we laughed about her little comment, and of course daddy got up to get her a snack. But I still can’t help but to replay it in my mind.

I’m sure all parents have had their moments, a simple word, phrase, act or milestone that has brought about similar emotions. For me it is impossible not to think about the past and wonder about the future, but the here and now is such an amazing point in time. To see the little person my daughter is becoming is such a rewarding feeling, even on the days where she has obviously woken up on the wrong side of the toddler bed. I know the words are cliché, but if I can offer any advice to new mommies, it would be to enjoy every second because it goes by so fast.  Before you know it, your 16 year old toddler will be surprising you every day.

Need a good laugh? Check out this cute website about the silly things kids say and do!

www.funnythingsmykidssay.com

Two weeks ago I made my first trip to the hospital after experiencing contractions that continued to get stronger and closer together. Fortunately, after 4 days I was able to return home with strict orders of bed rest and quite a life transition for our family. But my wonderful, supportive husband and I kept telling ourselves that our little boy was strong and healthy, was still cooking inside, and that’s all that mattered.  The last 2 weeks have been stressful and frustrating to say the least, but we began to adapt to our new schedule and routine.  Then, this past Saturday night, just as we were starting to feel comfortable and settled in and my husband sat down for the first time in 18 hours, it began again.  I started to time the contractions: 10–12 min apart, then 7–10 and by the time we made the decision to head to the hospital once again they were stronger than ever and 3–4 min apart.  Luckily, once again, my wonderful doctors and nurses were able to get the situation under control, baby boy continued to be happy and thriving, and most impressively there was no change to my cervix which calmed everyone’s nerves to an extent.  I was able to go home the next day, continuing my medication, continuing bed rest, and now, continuing to worry on a daily basis that I could once again end up in the hospital, not knowing if the next time I might be going home with a baby.

So as I mentioned, emotions are flowing rapidly.  The biggest emotion I feel is guilt.  I feel guilty that I have turned everyone’s lives upside down. My 2 year old daughter who was at my side every second of the day up until these events has now been thrown in daycare full time and has had difficulties adjusting. I feel guilty that my husband has now been put in a position where he is working 2 jobs, and now on top of it must keep the house in order and take care of our daughter when he comes home simply exhausted.  I feel guilty that both of our families, as well as my friends, have also voluntarily and graciously offered more help than we can possibly thank them for by caring for our daughter every afternoon, cooking us meals and doing laundry.  And, I feel guilty for being more concerned about how I have disrupted everyone else’s lives versus thinking of the well-being of my baby.

Frustration: my frustration levels are off the charts. I become so frustrated, sitting here alone every day for hours on end, not able to contribute at all while everyone is bending over backwards to make sure that I am ok.  I’m frustrated because on an average day I feel fine, thinking putting away some laundry isn’t going to cause any harm, but knowing perfectly well that it could.  And I become so frustrated when I’m constantly told by everyone that,” it’s only 7 weeks; it’s for your baby; etc, etc, etc,” (I then immediately feel guilty for becoming frustrated because I know that my unbelievably supportive friends and family are only trying to make me feel better and help me through this).

The list of unsettling emotions could go on and on, but I feel it’s most important to say that despite the negative feelings I have, this experience has given me a new outlook in many ways.  It has given me time to bond with this little boy in a way I hadn’t done up until this point.  I have battled to become a stronger person who must be ok with asking and accepting help from others, as well as learn to focus on the positive when I normally am a very anxious person who fears the worse.  Overall, it has made me feel so incredibly blessed and fortunate to have such wonderful, caring, understanding and helpful people in my life. If there is any advice I could give to a mother to be who must be on bed rest, it this: those who care about you are not going to offer and give the help if they truly don’t want to, so be grateful and accepting, and know in your heart that you would do the same for them.  Soon enough it will be over and your reward will be your precious little one who was completely worth every ounce of craziness.

I like to tell my husband that he has many titles: father, husband, handyman, part time cook. I think we can add one more to that list: nurse. Since he’s the one home this afternoon that means that he needs to abide by my type A personality by writing down every temperature, all oral intake, and every dose of Tylenol. This is how I’m used to monitoring childhood illnesses at work and I don’t know how to do it any different with my little one. Despite seeing sick children frequently at work, it’s just not the same when it’s your own child. My heart broke because I wish there was a way to wave my magic wand and make him better. He still gave me a small smile, but he wasn’t the same spunky little guy I’m used to.

It’s kind of ironic. I’ve always told parents, “This is going to be harder on you than it will be for your child.” Being sick, teething, and getting shots are no fun for the children but they’re resilient. It’s always much harder for the parent to see the child cry or be in pain. … Looks like it’s time for me to take some of my own advice.

I am now just about 7 months along with my second child.  I have said before, my first pregnancy with my daughter was an absolute breeze, no real aches and pains or ups and downs. This time, well, let’s just say this little boy inside me is giving me a run for my money.  From the weeks of bed rest early on due to significant bleeding, to the insomnia, to the constant headaches, and the list goes on, this time around is anything but a breeze.  So when I began to feel cramping last week, my first thought was, “what now?”  Part of me wanted to simply chalk it up to being pregnant, much like many other symptoms, but there was that feeling telling me that maybe, just maybe, something else was going on.  It was then that I had a flashback: November 16, 2009 3:00am. That was the exact date and time that I was having a typical late night bathroom break at 9 months pregnant, when it seemed as though I was “going” just a little too much.  I pondered the possibility that my water had broken, but didn’t want to be the moron that rushed to the hospital only to be told that no, everything was in-tact and to lay off the late night glasses of water.  So I went back to bed, feeling a little out of sorts, and laid awake until 6am when I told my husband that maybe just to be safe we should call the doctor when the office opened at 8:30am.  We did just that, went in at 10am, and sure as my instincts were covered by my pride we found out my water had broken and we were on our way to have our baby.

So here I was with these painful stomach cramps, part of me not wanting to see the doctor who could quite possibly tell me it was gas, and part of me remembering the guilt I felt for not trusting my instincts with my daughter on that November night.  How does the story end?  Because I chose instinct over pride this time around I am now on bed rest for a minimum of 7 weeks due to the fact that cramping I was experiencing was indeed contractions which needed to be put under control with the help of 2 hospitals, numerous bags of fluid, and an extreme amount of medication.  Not exactly the answer I was expecting, and suddenly going in to see the doctor who could have told me it was gas wasn’t sounding so awful, but ultimately choosing to make that appointment is now keeping this baby happy, healthy and cooking for a while longer.

So if there is any advice that I can give to expectant mothers it would be to always, always, always trust your motherly instinct. It kicks in long before your baby arrives. There is never any situation to small that wonderful doctors and nurses, like the ones I was fortunate enough to have at Columbia Center, wouldn’t be ready and willing to assess.  And if it does end up being gas, don’t feel silly, be thankful.

Bed rest can be very trying on a mommy-to-be and her family…here’s a great website that offers tips on how cope with bed rest

http://www.justmommies.com/articles/bed-rest-pregnancy.shtml