Connected Mom

it takes a village

noreply@blogger.com (Meegs) — Mon, 17 Jun 2013 14:59:00 +0000

My husband, daughter, and I went to visit with my parents last month as a belated celebration for my dad's birthday, mother's day, and an early celebration of the husband's birthday. It was a great visit and it reminded me of the truth behind the old adage, that it takes a village to raise a child. I am so lucky that my parents are an active and vital part of that village.

My mom has been Gwen's babysitter since she was born, and it makes me feel so at ease to know that she's in such safe, loving hands. Her Papa is one of her favorite people ever.

But your village doesn't have to be blood. We are also so lucky to have amazing neighbors, who treat us like their own kids/grandkids. Gwen is so fond of Mr. Joe and Ms. Sue, and its amazingly freeing to know that they are there in a pinch.

Our best friends, too, are there as loving, gently adults in her life. Its a blessing to have so many people that truly love Gwen, and who treat her with respect and care.

Who's in your village?

The One About the Playground

noreply@blogger.com (Momma in Progress) — Thu, 13 Jun 2013 10:00:00 +0000

I've seen a lot of chatter about playgrounds in my newsfeed lately. Remember the iPhone Mom and the frenzy of posts that followed from both critics and supporters? Now it seems every time I open up Facebook there is yet another article or blog about parents, kids, and outdoor play.

The logic I typically see goes something like this: Kids need free play without parental interference. They need to be able to navigate their own social circles, test their own physical abilities, and interact with peers and adults without mom-helicopter or dad-helicopter hovering around. Sounds good, in theory, doesn't it?

Except when it doesn't. Keep reading long enough and you'll find just as much "evidence" to support the other side.

We watch them too closely. No, we don't watch them carefully enough. Parents should leave their kids alone at the playground. For goodness sakes; aren't you watching your kids at the playground? Children need time to be with others their own age to learn social skills. Why are you sitting on the sidelines instead of teaching your kids social skills? Don't help or praise your kids on the jungle gym. Heavens, can't you see your kid needs some assistance and encouragement on the jungle gym?

So, what's a concerned parent to do? Sit back and watch? Or stay close and supervise? Leave them alone? Or play alongside?

I'll let you in on a little secret. I have the answer to your playground and park dilemma. Shhh . . . lean in closer.

Know. Your. Child.

Yep. It's that easy. Really.

Some kids thrive on the independence. They can't wait to ditch their parents at the park entrance and run off to find new friends. They might check in every once in a while just to see what you're doing or to ask for water, but for the most part they are in their own world. Bring your Kindle, open a good book, and relax. They'll find you when they need you.

Others might need mom or dad to stay with them until they feel more comfortable navigating the scene, especially at a new or unfamiliar place. After they've had a chance to warm up and/or talk to a few other kids, they will happily go in search of adventure while you fade into the background. Stay close, but step back when the opportunity presents itself.

Younger ones probably need more guidance simply because of safety concerns. I know some folks like to say that children will only test their natural limits, and won't do more than they are capable of, and they need to learn to trust themselves, blah blah blah. I'm convinced none of those people have ever actually had a toddler. Toddlers are fearless and will do crazy things without half a thought.

Sometimes they just want to play with you, and that's okay. They might be intimidated if surrounded by a lot of older kids. Perhaps it's your first visit and it's a bigger playground than what they are used to. Don't let this worry you. One day your timid three-year-old will be your six-year-old social butterfly. Your toddler will be pointing you the bench saying "mama sit here" before you blink. Go with it, and follow their lead.

And you know what? These hypothetical scenes are all correct. There is no "incorrect" way to take your kids to the park. Don't assume that because someone is not approaching it the way you would they are doing it wrong.

If you're an on-the-sidelines parent, don't assume the dad standing close by his five-year-old daughter is helicoptering because you'd be more hands-off by that age. If you are one to be right in the midst of your children's play, don't assume the mom checking her e-mail is uncaring or ignoring them. Give them the benefit of the doubt that they are doing what they feel works best for their child. Just as you'd want someone to do for you.

Then of course there's the other thousand scenarios that you know nothing about and have no right to judge. Maybe the Dad who is swinging alongside his kids just got home from deployment and hasn't seen them in a year. Maybe the mom at the slide is "fussing" over her three-year-old because he just got out of his cast this week and she's a little nervous. Perhaps the woman glazed over talking on her phone seemingly not paying attention just got the worst news of her life.

The next time you're at the park with your kids, simply approach it in a way that works for them. And drop any judgment at the gate.

Thanks for reading and have a blessed day.

the end of our breastfeeding journey

noreply@blogger.com (Meegs) — Mon, 03 Jun 2013 13:00:00 +0000

I'm pretty much ready to call it at this point. Gwen, my spirited 3-year old, hasn't nursed in two weeks now, so I'm going to say we're completely weaned. Looking back, it was so much easier then I thought it would be. When she turned 3, I definitely didn't think we'd be done by now, and with so little fussing, but here we are! 39 months is the last breastfeeding milestone we will reach together, and, as a Mama in the one-and-done camp, the last one I will ever reach. As with a lot of things with Gwen, she lead the way, on her time.

So here's a little round up of how Gwen self-weaned:

February 16th:
Gwen turns 3 years old. Still nursing 2x a day, once in the morning, and once before bed.

Week of March 11th to 15:
March 11th, had a long evening because of a friend for dinner. After I had to turn down Gwen's requests to play CandyLand and to watch a music video, I didn't want to turn down her request for a book. So I gave her the choice: read a book and skip milkies, or have milkies. She chose the book!

I offered again throughout the week and she chose the book! At one point she told me, "I'm a big girl Mom, and I don't need to have milkies. I can, but I don't need them."

The whole week, only nursed 2x in the morning because of walking up later due to daylight savings time. This was a little harder for her, but she did well with it.

Did nurse Friday night because of a rough evening. Lots of tears at bedtime and she needed the comfort.

That Weekend:
Nursed both mornings, but neither evening! One of the mornings she told me that milkies didn't want to come out.

End of March:
We're completely done with evening nursing session. We only ever read!
She's also waking up later on average during the week, so only nursing about 4x a week (2 mornings during the week, 2 mornings on the weekend).

Mid-April:
Gwen came to bed with us one morning, and we snuggled and fell asleep! Just like that!

Used that as a stepping point to talk about how big she's getting and how maybe soon she won't do any milkies anymore. She was receptive and positive about it.

Last full week of April:
Nursed only once, on Saturday, for only about a minute on each side (maybe less). Came to bed with us on Sunday and fell asleep for over an hour without nursing!

Generally she wakes up during the week after I'm already in the shower. Yay for extra sleep!

Mid-May:
Gwen hasn't nursed in over a week, and that session had only been about a minute. Regularly comes to bed with us on the weekend without nursing.

Last week in May:
Didn't nurse all weekend, which puts us about 2+ weeks now. She told me on Tuesday, "We're not having milkies anymore Mommy. You'll have to give away all the milkie things."

39 months, and I am calling it.

How does this feel?
Well, it happened so easily and naturally, I can't be anything but happy about it. I'm thrilled that the end of breastfeeding hasn't meant the end of bedsharing for us, as I feared it might. We still get our morning snuggles on the weekend. I had little moments of wistfulness when it was becoming apparent that our nursing journey was ending, but now I'm just happy that it happened so nicely, and proud of my growing girl!

An Open Letter to Grandparents who Wonder Why Their Grandkids are being Raised Differently

noreply@blogger.com (Shawna) — Sat, 01 Jun 2013 14:12:00 +0000

Dear Mom and Dad,
We see it, you kow. The exasperated look you get when we ask you to do things differently with your grandchildren than you did with us. We see the pain in your eyes even as we give our reasons for why we make different choices than you did. We don't mean to hurt you. You have to know that upfront. Just because we decide to do things differently than you did, it does not mean that we are judging what you did as "wrong." We are just trying to do what we think is right based on the research we have done. We all understand that we survived and thrived with your parenting choices. We give you credit for all the love and care you took in raising us. We understand that you did the best you could with us and that you only wanted our lives to be better than the ones you had. It's because we share this same dream for our children (your grandchildren) that we are striving to do the best we can, too. Sometimes, that means making choices that you didn't make, approaching food or discipline/consequences in a way you didn't, and making different medical or bottlefeeding/breastfeeding choices than you did. None of these differences are even about you; they are more about us. In fact, it is because you did such a good job of teaching us to be ourselves that we are making different parenting choices.

(I'm going to say this like I'm an authority which is laughable because I've only been parenting for almost four years now, but . . . ) The relationships between parents and children, probably more than any other relationships, except maybe romantic relationships/partnerships, are all varied and unique. No two are completely alike and so much of them are based on who you are and who you want to be and who the child is and who s/he wants to be that it would be impossible for us to be exactly like you even if we tried! In short, you parent as you are. Just like you know us and can read our facial expressions like a book (and we can read you!), we can read our children and our children read us. As much as they are "like" us; they are not "us" and they have different needs that we are trying our best to address. You taught us to trust our instincts and to know how to build strong relationships with those we love and we are just using those skills! Our individual choices in how to build those relationships may be different from the choices you made, but we are just transferring, transforming, and building upon the lessons you taught us.

You also did an amazing job teaching us not only to recognize who we are, but also who we want to be. I know that my parenting choices are just as much about who I am as who I want to be. I don't like who I am and what it does to my relationship with my child to be yelling, screaming, and losing my temper all the time. That's why we try so hard to talk through what we are feeling. We each have a dream of being a person who can remain calm in nearly any circumstance and who doesn't lose our tempers even in the face of our children losing theirs. Maybe that means that we overwhelm our children with too many words and choices too early, maybe that means that we don't always make the right choices ourselves, and maybe that means that we sometimes exasperate both our children and you, but it also means that we are learning and practicing. Just as you supported our dreams of being a ballerina/firefighter/detective/actor/superhero/writer/zoo-keeper/rock star/professional athelete, we need you to support our dream of the parent we want to be. It's important to us, way more important than any choice of career could be, because we see how much our relationships with you matter to us and have always mattered to us.

I'm going to let you in on a secret, now, that is not really a secret. We still look up to you and want to be the kind of people you can be proud of. We still crave your support. Think of the parenting phase of our lives as just one more "phase" that you are raising us through. It's another example of us going through a transition of growing and learning, but unlike many of the earlier phases, this is a phase where we need your support and your distance simultaneously. When we make mistakes, we know it and we will fix them when we know we need to. Our children are very good at letting us know when we need to readjust boundaries. (Sound familiar?) So, even if you think you see disaster coming, you have to let us disccover it on our own. Parenting our own children is a little like learning to walk was; I know you want to save us from falling, but it's only through falling that we will learn our balance and, sometimes, we just might surprise you by not falling at all. We only ask that you listen when our hearts are breaking and you try to do what you can to provide consistancy for our children. This may mean doing things that may seem unfamiliar or uncomfortable for you. Please understand that we are not trying to "push your limits or your buttons" any more than we were trying to do it when we were children ourselves. We are just trying to understand our own.

When it comes down to it, individual choices like when to administer medication, vaccinations vs. natural immunity, cloth diapering vs. paper diapering, time outs vs. time ins, what constitutes good snack foods or a healthy diet, baby wearing vs. using swings, co-sleeping vs. crib sleeping etc. are all pretty small differences that just FEEL big. At the root of every parenting choice you made and every choice we make is love: our love of ourselves, our love of our children, and our love of our parents. That love doesn't change from generation to generation. We are only trying to do the best we can just as you did the best you can. We respect that about the way you parented us. We only ask that you respect that about how we parent out kids.

With all due respect and love,
Your Weird Choice Making Kids who now Have Kids of their Own

P.S. If it helps, please know that more often than we care to admit to you, we do parent just like you, and, often, we don't mind the resemblance.

the loud sound of emotion

noreply@blogger.com (Meegs) — Mon, 20 May 2013 13:00:00 +0000

I have a preschooler now. It really blows my mind to say that, but its true. Gwen is 3-years old, and is definitely full of "big kid" spunk, fieriness, and emotion; however, she is still learning how to control those rollercoaster emotions of hers, and learning the frustrations of not having complete control over her life and world. I find myself having to give myself more and more "time outs" to breathe and regroup so as to not lose my cool. I also find myself needing some new tools in my arsenal.

I think some days, like yesterday, have the odds stacked against us. She's been using her inhaler for a week now because of a bad cough/cold (we start stepping it down today, thank goodness); it was rainy and miserable outside, so we were stuck inside; we had a random interruption in the middle of the day and never refound our groove. By dinner we were all prickly. Cue the meltdown.

Once upon a time I could talk Gwen down from most disruptive behavior, but the days of her being comforted merely by the sound of my voice are over. She feels things so big, this child of mind, and while I try to talk quietly and gently to her, she can't even hear my desire to help her over the loud sound of her own emotions. There are some ways that people are all the same, and one of these ways is in our desire to be heard and understood. I find my quiet voice rising, far beyond where I wish it would rise to, as I struggle to just have her hear me; her voice rises because she just doesn't understand why we just can't make it all right, and if only she could express her wants/needs to us enough, then we would of course fix it all.

In these moments, I wish I could scoop her up in my arms and help her to understand both the depth of my love for her, and my motivation for not giving into an ungrantable request. At the same time, the last thing she desires is for me to hold her, and I have to fight to keep my words as simple as possible, because her brain is consumed with anger, sadness, confusion, and a new found need for control leaving no room to process long explanations.

As an adult I've long since mastered the impulse to scream my frustrations, and let the tears flow at any grievance, regardless of location or company; but that doesn't mean that I don't have and understand such impulses. My longing to help her learn more productive ways of expressing emotion are balanced with my desire to never make her feel that her emotions are wrong, or should not be expressed.

So what is a frustrated Mama to do?

Well, last night at bedtime Trav and I weathered the storm of anger (without backing down), and when allowed doled out the hugs needed to sooth her sadness. After Trav said his good nights, Gwen and I lay next to each other on the couch in her room, and told each other how much we love each other no matter what. Then I gave hugs and kisses, rubbed her back, and said our sweet dreams like we do every night. I went down stairs and relaxed, before heading to my own bedtime, where I took a deep breath, climbed into bed, and told myself, "I try again tomorrow."

Three Things I Said Yes To This Week

noreply@blogger.com (Momma in Progress) — Thu, 16 May 2013 19:37:00 +0000

Do you ever find yourself automatically vetoing something the kids want to do, not because it really is a bad idea, but because it might inconvenience you?

(raises hand)

I'm trying to make a conscious effort to not have a knee-jerk No! reaction when they want to go somewhere, or do something, or even buy something (within financial reason) that I might not be on board with 100%.

Following are three simple "yes" examples from our week.

The Park

We live in a single-family home with a nice fenced-in back yard. It's certainly easy for me to just open the back door and send the kids outside! However, they also crave climbing time. And time with other kids. So at least once a week, we get in the car and drive to a playground with ladders and slides or swings; things we don't have at home. Often they pretend the entire structure is a pirate ship, or a restaurant, or a roller coaster. Whether there are tons of other kids around or just a few, they always have a blast. When I'm tempted to think I'd rather just stay in or I have other more "important" errands to run, I stop and remember that they need (and love) this park time, and the only way they get it is if I prioritize it.

The Mud

Sometimes you just have to not care about how much clean up is involved and let your kids indulge in their dirt-loving play. My kids love mud: stomping in it, moving it from bucket to bucket, squishing it with their fingers and toes. I've had to undress them at the back door, rinse out clothes prior to washing them, and give them a bath in the middle of the day a couple of times. Yes, I might be tempted to think of all the "work" it creates for me. But, kids are washable, and if clothes stain, it's not the end of the world. Plus, this little boy's cute face always makes it worth it.

The Journal

Earlier this week we went shopping with the intention of getting, among other things, new journals for the girls (ages 7 and 5). Now, by "journals" I mean they would be equally excited about 94-cent spiral notebooks, but I told E and J they could pick out whatever ones they wanted, and that they would be their special writing books for second grade and kindergarten, respectively. J picked out a red Hello Kitty one. E chose a large, purple, leather-bound one. The thought entered my mind, that's a pretty expensive blank book for a seven-year-old to write stories and lists and doodle in. But, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn't that big of a deal, and I've personally left Target with impulse purchases for myself that cost way more. So we bought it. And she is in love with it. I don't know what she'll use it for, but it's not for me to decide.

What are you saying Yes! to this week?

Thanks for reading and have a blessed day.

Hey Disney, What About the Rest of the Princesses?

noreply@blogger.com (Amy) — Wed, 15 May 2013 13:57:00 +0000

Given the recent upheaval about Disney changing Brave's character, Merida, on their Disney Princess site, it begs the question why the other characters on their princess site are "updated" as well? We just watched the original Disney Cinderella from 1950, and I did not even recognize their new version as Cinderella. Fortunately, they have changed Merida back to her original image, however, the other characters remain a bedazzled, sexed up version of their predecessors.

It's not like Disney princesses have traditionally been synonymous with feminism, but can't we at least leave out the extra make-up, sparkles and perfect hair? Why have ANY of these characters been altered? I understand that the sexier version of Merida goes against everything she represented in the movie and that's why people got upset, but why is nobody appalled at these other transformations? What is this saying to our children? I've already written at length about my feelings on sex being marketed to young girls (you can find that piece here), and this is no different.

So I have to ask, "Hey Disney, what about the rest of the princesses?" Shame on you Disney, for tweaking these beloved characters into what seems like their "Bratz" alter egos, just to make a buck.

CLICK ON IMAGE TO ENLARGE

Photo Credits:
Snow White (1937): Groucho Reviews
Cinderella (1950): Orangetagged.blogspot
Ariel (1989): OnTheRedCarpet.com
Belle (1991): Cineplex.com
Pocahontas (1995): Fanpop.com
Jasmine (1992): Cineplex.com
All "updated" characters are from the Disney Princess site

What Happens When Your Water Breaks and You Don't Deliver in 24 Hours:Part 1

noreply@blogger.com (Shawna) — Sat, 27 Apr 2013 01:49:00 +0000

First and foremost, I'll be honest; I am not a doctor or a midwife. I'm not giving you medical advice just sharing my experience and some of the resources I used in making my medical decisions with the support of my midwives. Only you can make your medical decisions based on your body and your unique pregnancy, but this general information is not that well known so I want to share it.

Most women (about 85-90%) will have their water break during the course of labor usually close to delivery. For about 10% of women, however, their labor begins with their water breaking. Be it a warm trickle, a series of squirts, or a big gush, the sensation of having your water break outside of active labor beckons the more familiar feeling of accidentally wetting yourself (in fact there are occasions when babies drop hard on their mother's bladder and cause the bladder to release making the mother wonder if her water has broken when it hasn't). A good rule of thumb is that if you can squeeze your kegels and the flow stops, it is probably urine, if it doesn't, it's probably amniotic fluid. You can also usually tell by the smell. Urine is pretty unmistakable in its smell. Healthy amniotic fluid is clear and either has no smell or only a light smell that is not gross at all. (If the fluid is yellow or greenish and does not smell like urine but does smell bad, call your practitioner because those are signs of meconium in the fluid and that is a sign the baby is in distress. Another time to call immediately is in the case of your water breaking prematurely before you are term (before 36 or 37 weeks) this is called PPROM and there are different risks associated with it.) If your water does break pre-labor, you may be tempted to rush in to your birth place immediately, but you don't have to medically. For mothers whose water breaks when they are term before contractions start, it is not a real emergency and studies have repeatedly shown that you do not have to go in right away. Women who deliver up to 72 hours after their water breaks show almost the same infection rate as those who deliver within 24 hours if they do not go in and get their cervix checked immediately. The studies that did show that it is a great risk of infection to not deliever within 24 hours were actually timed AFTER the first cervical check (an action that introduces outside bacteria into the area and it is that cervical check that actually makes the risk of infection jump). If you don't go in and get a cervical check right away, the clock is not really "ticking" on infection, yet. In fact my midwives confirmed, you are safer staying at home with bacteria you are accustomed to while you wait for labor begins. Although I already knew this when my water broke with my first labor four years ago, what I didn't know then was that even if you do not deliver your baby within 24 hours it STILL is not an emergency. And am I ever glad I did my homework because this time my water broke really early and all my research after my last baby was absolutely critical in the success I would eventually have with my VBAC. Most women (somewhere between 80% and 90%) who have their waters break before labor begins will go into labor and deliver their babies before 48 hours have passed, so chances are that you will be having your baby soon and quickly without augmentation if you do choose to wait for labor to begin naturally. Another 6%-9% will go into labor and deliver between 48 and 72 hours. Then another 1%-4% will go beyond the 72 hour mark. I was part of that small percentage with my recent VBAC.

I want to say that having the right kind of support team in place before your water breaks is an absolutely necessary piece of the puzzle. If your provider has a hard and fast rule about "having" to deliver within a certain time period, and will not respect you if you decide to make a researched medical decision and a calculated risk to give yourself more time, than you are left with two choices (A) not letting them know when your water broke/that your water broke before labor began or (B) go in when they tell you to (often as soon as your water breaks) and hope that your body complies to whatever time constraints are placed on you. However, if you are in the enviable position (as I was) of having a provider who not only believes in the body and its intrinsic ability, but also believes in women and their ability to make decisions than there is a third option, you can wait until labor begins with the knowledge and support of your provider. Even though I ultimately chose to go in to get my labor augmented with pit (after not going into active labor for almost 63 hours after my water broke), because the choice and the timing were clearly mine, I felt stronger in facing the augmentation and the (very slight) increased risk of repeat c-section and uterine rupture it represented for me and that is what made me capable of getting through the fifteen hours of pit labor including over four hours of pushing it took for me to have my successful VBAC. Yes, you read those numbers right. My provider believed in me enough to support me coming in over 60 hours after my water broke, supported me in an additional 11 hours of dilation, and then over four hours of pushing and did not take me in for an "emergency" c-section as many providers would have and considered it a true emergency. I was even "allowed" to get into the tub to ease my discomfort during labor and was not placed on "preventative" anti-biotics because I and my baby showed no sign of infection and never did come down with any kind of infection.

You should also know that there is a slightly increased chance of some serious infections if you do decide to wait after the 24 hour mark even if you don't go in for a cervical check, but the risk is way lower than going in for an immediate cervical check and then going over that same mark. If you do make the decision to wait it out (as I did), you should follow these guidelines to limit your chances of infection and keep both you and your baby healthy.

1. Stay hydrated, you will be making a lot of fluid to replenish the fluid that is leaking. (Note: You will more than likely never run out of fluid. Your body will constantly replensih your amniotic fluid as long as you stay hydrated. It will also continue to leak throughout your pre-labor and labor until you have the baby. If it is a really long time before you go into labor, you might form a "pocket" where the flow slows down or even seems to stop (as happened in my first labor where my water also broke before labor began) or it can even seem to stop altogether for days if it is a high leak and the baby moves into a position that blocks the leak as happened in my VBAC labor) .
2. Do not go swimming in a public pool or bathe in a hotel bathroom. You do not want to introduce any bacteria that your body isn't used to because that is the kind of bacteria introduction that is most likely to cause infection.
3. Do not allow anything to enter your vagina after the water breaks. No tampons, limit or avoid cervical checks, and no intercourse as an induction method.
4. Monitor your temperature. Any fever is a sign of possible infection and you should go in immediately.
5. Monitor your baby's movements. Any significant decrease in movement should be taken seriously, particularly if you are not yet in active labor and under the direct supervision of your care provider. Alert your care provider to any changes.

Most of all, try to stay calm and rest. You are going to meet your baby very, very soon although the time between your water breaking and active labor beginning may seem to drag on forever. I know because I've been there. Twice. The second time for days. My personal story that led me to this resource will make up part two!

Thank you for reading!
Shawna

Babywearing: a carrier comparison

noreply@blogger.com (Meegs) — Mon, 22 Apr 2013 13:00:00 +0000

MT wrap conversion

A friend of mine, pregnant with her third little one, recently asked for some recommendations for carriers. Since everyone has slightly different needs, I broke it down to some pros and cons vs. just giving a recommendation for one type of carrier. What the best one is for you can depend on a number of factors. I'm sure she won't mind that I share this here.

I probably used my Mei Tai the most, and the longest. It is easy to use, can be used from newborn through toddler (with no additional inserts), and is quick. It might not be quite as supportive once they get bigger (depending on how big your toddlers are), but I still carry Gwen in one and find it comfortable (she's just under 30lbs at 3 years). I never owned my own soft structured carrier (Beco, Boba, Ergo) but they work similar to the Mei Tai,

Beco - right before doing
a 5.5 mile walk for MS

only with buckles instead of ties. They are super padded and supportive, but I think the MT gives a little more freedom of how you want to carry (high back or low back, front, hip, tied tibetian or more like a back pack). You also typically need an infant insert (or a rolled up blanket or something) when they are smaller, so there is that additional item to futz with. I have to say, after borrowing a Beco from a friend to use for the MS Walk this past week, the added support is wonderful. I was able to carry Gwen for the full 5.5 miles with no problem. My one complaint, was that it was a little annoying getting Gwen up and down from the back carry for her potty breaks. If I could have taken the whole thing off, or had a chair or table to lean on, it probably would have been easier.

wrap - Ellevill Zara Deli LE

I used my wraps a lot when Gwen was smaller, since they are endlessly adaptable (my favorite carry was the double hammock), offer good support, and are pretty. :-) I can't say enough about the adaptability and support of wraps, but they do have a bigger learning curve, and take some time at first. Once you've practiced a while, it gets easy to pop them up, but at the beginning tying is slower. There are tons of videos online to show different carries, so if you are interested, check them out. One con, they are not as great as a MT or a sling for taking them in and out a lot (aka if you are planning to put them up and keep them up while you do some chores or take a walk, great... but it would have been a bit of a pain for me this past weekend to untie and retie Gwen each time she had to pee!).

I also have a ring sling. I didn't get it until Gwen was a toddler, but it can be used from newborn on. They are easy to use, easy for on/off/on/off situations, and can be gorgeous. They aren't quite as supportive as other carriers though and the weight isn't as equally distributed. You could probably carry your newborn for quite a while before you notice it, but would notice sooner with a toddler. They can still be quite comfortable though, and I like them for walks when I knew Gwen would want to be down a lot of the time, but what to get up to rest periodically. I can pop her in without even stopping. If you did get one, get a ring sling... not one of the bag slings, which make proper positioning hard and can be dangerous. Ring slings are fine and safe for newborns, as long as you are careful and get good positioning (resource here).

Stay away from "crotch dangler" carriers (ie. Bjorn, Snuggli and Infantino) as they are less comfortable for Mom and Baby (weigh is not distributed as easily), and are not ergonomically good for baby. More about that here.

So, I'm in the Use All The Carriers! camp, but I guess my favorites are wraps and the MT for different situations. If someone were only going to get one carrier, I'd probably recommend a MT, with a soft structured carrier being a close second. I hope this helped, and please let me know if you have any other questions.

Other Resources:
Becoming Mama's has an amazing Guide to Babywearing.

The Pressure's Off

noreply@blogger.com (Momma in Progress) — Thu, 18 Apr 2013 10:00:00 +0000

Yesterday I went out, by myself, to Target and Starbucks. To Target to search for a new skirt and pair of sandals to wear to an upcoming wedding, and to Starbucks for some quiet reading, coffee, and cake pop time. At least once every two to three weeks I like to go out in public somewhere, anywhere, without my usual six-and-under entourage. So, yes, I regularly pay another person good money so I can drink (lattes) solo. And I don't feel pressure to do much else with this time.

Oh, I used to. I would previously stress over What I Could Accomplish During My Two Hours of Alone Time. I would obsess that if I didn't do something Really Important and Significant it was just a waste of time (and money) and I should feel bad about it.

And it's not just since I've become a mother that I felt this way, I think I've always had this lingering guilt about being productive. Even when much younger and single, if I had a situation come up where I could spend some quality time say, writing, and I blew it, I would feel like I wasted the opportunity and shame on me. Being in airports and traveling come to mind. I flew by myself several times in my single days, and before I left I always had this idea in my head about what I would do while puttering about the airport or during the flight. Usually it involved drafting the first 20,000 words of a novel or something equally unattainable. Then when it didn't happen, I'd feel like a failure.

I feel compelled to add here that if my husband had one of those normal jobs where when someone asks when's he getting home I could say "6:00" or "around dinner" instead of "sometime next month" or "August" I would probably just disappear every other Saturday morning for an hour or two. But this is where we are.

I will also share that in the past I did something similar without paying for a sitter by joining a babysitting co-op. Although that was in my need-to-feel-productive-all-the-time years, so I probably did something super exciting like go to the gynecologist or have a tooth drilled.

Now, I drink coffee. Eat sweets. And blog. Or read a book. Occasionally try on shoes. And I don't stress about it.

I let go of the pressure to do something and just let myself be. I've accepted that it's okay to take time to be alone with my thoughts. I don't have to be executing something of value every waking moment. Wait, maybe being alone with my own thoughts is valuable.

What do you think? Precious alone time: accomplish as much as possible or just breathe?

Thanks for reading and have a blessed day.

What To Do When Someone You Know Has A Late Term Pregnancy Loss

noreply@blogger.com (Amy) — Wed, 17 Apr 2013 13:13:00 +0000

Over the past few months I have been asked this question personally, as well as seen the topic a number of times on online chat groups. Since my loss at four months just this past December, I have a new perspective on this and thought I'd share, since it seems to be a bewildering topic that is best answered by someone who has been through it. I'm fully aware that my situation could've been far worse and my loss could've taken place even later, but this was my 6th miscarriage, and getting four months into the pregnancy only to have it very unexpectedly end was, and still is, indescribably painful.

The easiest, most general advice I can give to anyone who may know somebody who has had the great misfortune to lose their baby late in the pregnancy is to treat that loss like you would any death in the family. Miscarriages are still so taboo in our society, and people just don't respond the same way. People don't generally flood your doorstep with food and flowers, the way they may do so if you lost a child they had a chance to know. While I will admit that there is most certainly a difference, as I cannot even fathom the devastation I would experience if something happened to my 2 year old daughter now, and I realize it would be far greater than anything I recently experienced, I still believe that right out of the gate, I think the feelings are pretty comparable. I felt equally incapacitated with grief and unable to function.

Furthermore, women who lose a child that far along (or at any stage, really) are not just dealing with mourning a loss, they must confront the physical aftermath as well. I had gone in for a routine appointment, expecting to be in and out with no suspicion that anything at all was wrong, and minutes later my entire world was turned upside down when there was no heartbeat. I was presented with the option to either induce labor within the next day or two and birth my baby, being warned that I'd be on a maternity ward and that it may take days, or I could schedule a D&E. I did not think I had it in me emotionally to handle the labor, so I went with option B. Unfortunately, since I was so far along nobody would touch me, including my OB GYN. I had to juggle phone calls between my doctor, my insurance company and several specialists, trying to get in for the procedure as soon as possible. In the end, I had to walk around with my dead baby rattling around inside of me for an entire week.

One week to cling to the already large belly that I had. One week to try to explain to my two year old that there was no longer a reason to kiss and hug my belly and tell it she loved it everyday. One week to hang on to the last physical evidence I'd ever have that this child existed. One week to begin the grieving process, and then have to start all over again once the baby and my belly were finally gone. I felt movement very early, and could still feel it for that week, except unlike before, it was only when I made sudden movements to make it move. I spent that week going back and forth from thinking maybe everyone was mistaken and it was still alive since I could feel it, to running to the bathroom because I felt like I was starting to bleed.

Throughout it all, I still had a child to feed and a home to manage, but people just don't reach out in the same way as they do when other family members pass. It was the few that did that made me realize how important it was, and prompted me to write this post. Several sent beautiful flowers and gifts, and women I've never personally met from an online forum I belong to even got together and made a magnificent gesture of sending angel wings ornaments (this was Christmas time) and cards. One kind friend took our daughter off our hands for the afternoon, just so my husband and I could be together and mourn. And my mother brought us groceries, which was just huge. Grocery trips are rather difficult (they still can be months later), because the stores are often filled with babies and newborns. There is no way I would've gotten through a grocery trip that first week, and my husband was too busy back at work so he could afford to take off when I physically needed him after the D&E, plus he was taking care of my daughter and trying to keep up with all of the things I was too devastated to do - all while dealing with his own grief. Then of course the D&E led to some issues afterwards, and it was quite some time before I could physically put everything behind me.

So that is why my advice is to treat it like any death in the family. Cook for them, clean for them, whatever they are comfortable with allowing you to do, but whatever can be done to make their lives easier, especially if they already have other children, is in my opinion, the best way to help. I know the devastation would be far more insurmountable if my child had made it to this world and I got to know it first, but that didn't make it any easier at first. I find myself never saying the word "miscarriage." Since my other 5 losses were very early, before we even heard the heartbeat, to me they will always be miscarriages. What I find myself saying instead is "when my baby died." Because that's what happened - I had a baby and it died. If I had a 10 year old child die there would be no euphemism to say in its place, I'd simply refer to that time as when my son/daughter died. I don't do it consciously, but realized it recently. So if you ever have the great sadness of knowing someone who has experienced this, treat it like their BABY died. Not just an unspoken "miscarriage." There was a baby, and they never got to know it. I will forever wonder what my child would've looked like. Whether or not they would've looked just like my daughter, very different, or somewhere in between. I will never be able to know that child, but I will never forget.

This brings me to my final piece of advice, which is to check in on that person. Months down the road when everyone else's lives have moved on and everyone has forgotten...they will not have forgotten, and for them the pain is still very real.

Planning the Family Meals

noreply@blogger.com (Anastasia) — Thu, 11 Apr 2013 16:07:00 +0000

I still remember the first food shopping trip I took when I moved in with my now husband. It was our first time living without our parents, and we spent over $200 and bought everything and anything. I don't remember what we bought, but I remember the feeling of excitement and promise, the awesome fact that we could buy and prepare whatever food we wanted, for the first time ever!

Fast forward a few years. With us working full-time, demanding jobs, our meal times consisted of whatever was quickest. I bought pretty much the same food every week, and I can't tell you how much stuff I ended up throwing out over the course of a couple of years--meat that had been in the freezer for months, rotting fruit and vegetables, and stale bread.

At some point, right before I got pregnant with my first child, I realized that we had to make a change in the way we ate. We started with wholesome, non-processed ingredients. We brought healthy lunches to work instead of going to the local eateries. We were on a good road, but once we threw children into the mix eating mindfully and healthily became more of a challenge.

I needed to make a change, and so I decided to start planning my family's meals--dinner especially. I plan my meals for a week and then I shop accordingly. I've done this now for over five years, and it has made such an immense difference in all of our lives. For one, absolutely nothing goes bad or goes to waste, since I only buy whatever I need for what I'm cooking. Second, I'm not left scrambling to throw something together at 6:30; having a plan ensures that we are getting a good meal every single day.

I don't use a website for help, but I write down each meal and the day I'm going to make it, and put the list on the fridge. Since we run around a lot during the week, I plan my meals around whatever each day's activities are. For example, on the days where we have after school activities, I make a stew, casserole, lasagna, or something in the slow cooker (basically anything that can be made ahead of time), so that when we get home we can get straight to eating.

I make the meal schedule flexible so that if something changes, I can easily swap out meals from one day to the next. Sometimes things come up and I'm unable to cook, or we eat out unexpectedly, so I adjust the schedule and often carry meals from one week to the next. So that things don't go bad, I look at my meals and make the ones that use fresh produce first, so that I'm not stuck with rotting food in the fridge. And if there's a meal that requires advance preparation, like marinating or defrosting, I will make a note for myself on my meal schedule list. I look at my meal schedule every morning, and take out meat to defrost, if any.

To keep things a little simple, I make every Wednesday roast chicken night. I roast a chicken with some variation, with a different side every week. This is the kids' favorite meal--especially the crispy chicken skin. I save the bones and any leftover chicken meat and make a mean chicken soup, either later in the week or the week after. Our favorite is chicken soup with celery, carrots, and egg noodles. We have breakfast for dinner every other Thursday (also another favorite). I make gluten free waffles or pancakes, sometimes with home potatoes or bacon, and sometimes a frittata. Once I find a good gluten free pizza crust recipe, I'm going to incorporate a pizza night into our week, as well.

It takes me around an hour to meal plan and shop for groceries. I shop for my groceries at Costco, where I buy most of our staples like milk, cereal, sugar, snacks, etc., and also on FreshDirect.com, a grocery delivery service in NYC. The online service really helps in terms of managing my time, because it takes a lot less time than going to a supermarket would. That's not to say I don't shop in grocery stores and supermarkets. And I can't wait for my local farmers market, which starts in June.

Planning meals is about more than just convenience. I'm in the middle of reading "French Kids Eat Everything," and learning about how the French view food and mealtimes has re-inspired me to let my kids help me out in the kitchen, for more than just baking cookies. Two nights ago Sofia helped me make Asian-style shrimp with rice noodles and not only did she want to try every single thing as we were making it, once we sat down to eat, she finished every bite and declared the meal the best she's ever had. I love the stress that planning ahead alleviates for me and I love that I can take the extra time to spend in the kitchen with my children.

Does your family plan their meals ahead of time? If not, are you inspired to start?

Unexpected Things about Parenthood

noreply@blogger.com (Meegs) — Mon, 08 Apr 2013 15:15:00 +0000

I have a great group of Mama friends, whom I met online. We're friends in "real life" too now, but since we are spread far and wide, our interactions are still mostly online. One day, one of them, a freshly born Mama asked the rest of us a great revealing question. We all know there are plenty of things that aren't exactly like we expected, or that we imagined would be one way but are a bit different, but she wanted to know about the things we didn't expect at all. So here are my top 4 things I didn't expect about parenting:

1. How hard coparenting could be.
I love my husband, he's a good man, but parenting together is so so much harder then I thought it would be. Reassuringly, this was a common one amongst my Mama friends too. Parenthood, especially the first time around, can be such a pressure cooker of emotions and expectations. As much as you try to prepare, you can know what its really going to be like until you are in the thick of it. And when you have two distinct individuals, trying to work as one to raise a third distinct individual, well its just not always easy.

2. How insanely different it is when its your own baby.
I'm 7 years older then my brother, have been around kids/babies my whole life, I've been babysitting since I was 12, taught vacation bible school to preschoolers for multiple summers, was a mother's helper to quadruplets all through college, and was not the first of my friends to give birth. I was also dying to be a Mom, feeling it through every fiber of my being. Yet, all that experience went out the window when Gwen was born. I had the knowledge, I had tools in my arsenal that others didn't, but it is just different when it is your own. Each baby is different anyway, but add into that the biological response your body has when responding to your own child, well I was just unprepared for it.

3. That we'd still be breastfeeding at 3 years old.
and 4. That we'd bedshare (full-time for the "fourth trimester", then part-time for a long time).
I knew I was going to be an AP Mama, its how I was raised, and its what I felt the most pull towards. However before Gwen was born I wasn't completely comfortable with the idea of bedsharing, and it was only when Gwen proved that she had other ideas that my husband and I decided to give it a go. And while I always knew I would breastfeed, I didn't realize how strongly I would feel about fighting past the mastitis, the clogged ducts, the supply dips to make it past a year... and how much Gwen would love it, to the point of deciding to keep pumping until 2 years, and wanting her to self-wean. I guess this boils down to the idea that before I was a Mama, I thought I would be the one with the answers; once Gwen arrived I realized that we would figure this out a lot easier if I let her be my guide on a lot of things.

What things did you not expect at all before you became a parent?

Three Things Women Should Stop Saying To Other Women

noreply@blogger.com (Momma in Progress) — Thu, 04 Apr 2013 13:06:00 +0000

A little reminder of how we don't really know anyone's story except our own. I personally have heard each of these. Have you?

You're so lucky that you get to stay home with your kids. Maybe she is thrilled to be a stay-at-home mom. Maybe she wishes like anything she could have kept her career. Maybe it was a no-brainer decision for her family. Maybe it was a difficult, perhaps agonizing decision for both partners to make. Maybe finances are ridiculously tight and the family is struggling. Maybe she does consider herself lucky. Or maybe she feels trapped. You have no idea, so don't assume. On a related note, please no I don't know how you leave your children every day to go to work comments either, okay?

I support breastfeeding, but [cover up, don't do it in public, you should wean by this arbitrary date, etc.]. You either support breastfeeding mothers or you don't. Once you start putting qualifiers on it, you're being wishy-washy, and wishy-washy is not support. And it probably goes without saying, but for the love of squirrels no negative comments to a mom who formula feeds, either. You have no idea why another mother has chosen to feed her baby the way she has, and frankly, it's none of your business.

I don't understand why people say they need a break from their kids. I will speculate that mothers who say this have a supportive partner, probably one who works a job with regular hours and is home in time for dinner most nights and every weekend. Maybe they have parents or in-laws or close friends nearby. They are likely not in a situation where they are going it alone, either permanently (single parent, divorced, widowed) or temporarily (spouse is military or in a career with significant travel). Their "breaks" may just not be as obvious as a night out or a regular babysitter, but having someone around to share the daily mental energy matters.

What would you add here?

Thanks for reading and have a blessed day.

10 Days in the Loony Bin--or, Spring Break 2013

noreply@blogger.com (Anastasia) — Thu, 28 Mar 2013 12:21:00 +0000

Ah, spring break. For NYC public school kids, it's an unusually long one this year. Seven whole school days off.

As with any major break, I made a plan for what we were doing each day. This way we make the most of the break and we don't spend too much time idle, which starts to drive us all crazy after a while. We are in the middle of our spring break right now, except we haven't done anything on our itinerary, because my two older kids are sick, and the little one has consistent diarrhea (yum. Aren't you glad you're reading this?). No one is seriously ill, just low grade fevers and yucky cold symptoms. But it's enough to keep us quarantined for a few days.

When you're stuck inside with three sick kids, you can get tunnel vision and forget that life exists outside of what's happening right now (which for us thus far has been: fever. Barf. Sneezing. Coughing. Diarrhea. Repeat). I'm all for a little "mommy needs a cocktail" humor, but as I've found myself actually needing a cocktail the last few days, I've decided that I need to change my outlook and my attitude. And I've realized there are many reasons that I'm grateful to be stuck inside with my sick kiddos.

For one, we are getting to spend an inordinate amount of time together. There are tough moments throughout the day, but I genuinely miss my two older kids when they're in school, and it's been so nice to have them at home. They're funny, smart, and endearing, and the days are never dull when they're around. The wonderful way they play together makes up for the amount of fights I have to break up between them. I love hearing them play on their own, too--just yesterday there was about an hour where they were each completely engrossed on their own made up worlds, playing separate imaginative games.

It's also been great not having to run around anywhere. None of our regular classes are running because of the break anyway, but we had social engagements scheduled that would have definitely necessitated that we be up and out the door at a certain time. We have an incredible amount of activities during the school week. In my quest to enrich my children's lives, I run the risk of doing too much. Sometimes it seems as if we never stop running. Much as we love our friends and activities, it's been a relief not having to *be* anywhere but here this week.

The baby has diarrhea, yes--but at least she's still safely in the land of diapers, which means that I don't have to do much except change her. OK, I have to change her three times an hour, but the other plus is that since she's in cloth diapers, all I have to do is wash them--no running to the store for more disposables. Bonus!

When life gives us lemons, we make crafts. We have a whole host of crafting activities that we've been saving for a rainy day, and now we have a week of rainy days! Both the older kids adore crafts and they're always so proud of their creations.

Since I don't have to rush around in the morning, I've shaved my legs twice this week! Yes--my legs do not resemble those of a grizzly bear's. You may not care, but I assure you my husband does. (The older kids watched a show this morning and V hung in the bathroom with me while I showered. Judge me, I don't care. My legs are smooth).

Being home, I've had a chance to do some self-evaluation. The last few months have been a challenge, and admittedly, I haven't been handling the adversity well (see cocktail comment above). I've had plenty of time to think and regroup. Things aren't going to get easier. I just have to adjust my expectations, my reactions and parent my children with love, respect, and remain connected to them, even when things are running amok. I'm grateful to have had the restful time I've needed to make those realizations. There's still a whole week of the break left. I'm still in good health, and will hopefully remain that way--though now that I've pointed it out, I will probably get the plague tomorrow.

If I don't, however, this means that we have plenty of time to get out of the house, see our friends, and go to the park. And when the crazy hustle and bustle starts again next week, I know I will miss these few days when we just hung around and did nothing.

Because sometimes, we need to do just that.

Simple Changes, Big Results

noreply@blogger.com (Meegs) — Mon, 25 Mar 2013 14:00:00 +0000

I've written recently about the tribulations of age 3. I didn't content myself with complaining though, seeing as that helps no one! So I hit up some of my favorite parenting websites, revisited some of my old favorites in terms of books and articles, and came up with a few small adjustments that we've been working on in the Meegs household. We've seen some pretty big results.

The first step for me what identifying what times/issues were giving us the most stress, and breaking it down from there.

The first for us is transitions. Honestly, I didn't even identify this one until I was reading about developmentally appropriate behaviors for this age, but as soon as I saw this one it clicked. Developmentally they are learning about control; control of their bodies, control of their actions, control of their life. Big or small, they want control... so when you say we're done doing x to do y instead, well, it can be very frustrating for all. This however, turned out to be one of the simplest changes to implement, with some of the best and fastest results. We've started giving advanced notice of "mandatory" transitions, letting her know from the start if she only has a few minutes and letting her know what is coming next, warning her at the 1 minute mark, then counting down the last ten seconds. This gives her ample opportunity to adjustment to the idea of moving on, and lets her feel informed instead of forced. And if the transition isn't mandatory (ie. I'm going to do something upstairs, but she's welcome to keep playing downstairs) then I leave the choice up to her.

Such a simple change, its no hardship for me to give her warning, but our end of activity screaming tantrums have all but ended.

The second thing for us, which has been a little bit harder to implement, is addressing the mornings and our expectations for each other. Gwen's sleep has always been varied in the morning, but especially since the DST adjustment she might wake up anywhere between 5:50 and 7am. Obviously this changes whether we have time for some Sesame Street in the morning, or even whether she eats breakfast at home or in the car. Most of the time its her wake up is around 6:30, but even when she wakes up exactly then she'll change her mind daily about who she wants to get her ready, or even whether she wants to get ready or not. Then when she finally is ready, she doesn't understand why she doesn't have time to play before leaving.

The adjustments here have been multifaceted: talks with Gwen about our expectations of her and her level of cooperation, but also adjusting our reactions when she doesn't cooperate as we had hoped. First, we starting having simple, short discussions with Gwen during non-charged moments, about how mornings are easier if everyone helps and cooperates. We told her that when she cooperates and lets Daddy get her dressed, that we have time to watch some Elmo or play before leaving. Then we adjusted our reactions... getting rid of the raised voices (which we all hate), and instead talking calmly about the natural consequences of her choices and actions. ie. Gwen you may chose whether you want Daddy to help you get ready or wait for Mommy to get out of the shower, but if you wait then there will be no time for playing after you are ready, it will be time to leave right away. This one has taken some more time and effort for all of us, but we are seeing results here as well.

With this second item, for me the results are two-fold: not only are we having more pleasant interactions, but we are recommitting to this AP lifestyle we've chosen, recommitting to how we want to parent our daughter, not just as a helpless baby, but as a preschooler and beyond. We are seeing how things like natural consequences, and age appropriate expectations and conversations, can work towards a more harmonious household where we all feel respected.

Do we still have our unhappy, irritated and angry moments? Of course! I'm no expert on parenting; maybe there is no such thing. But this has worked to make our house a lot more peaceful, and I wanted to share.

Now if anyone has a suggestion for "the witching hour" at the end of the day (right around dinner time), when she's tired and cranky, and everything is a big deal... I'm happy for you to share what's worked for you too!

Sleeping Like a Baby

noreply@blogger.com (Momma in Progress) — Thu, 21 Mar 2013 09:00:00 +0000

When pregnant with Baby #1, Dear Hubby and I researched cribs and crib mattresses as if world peace hinged on our decision. Of course, we also had a bassinet for our room, where we figured she might sleep for "a few weeks, maybe" until we moved her across the hall to her own room, because . . . that's what parents do, that's what parents need, that's what babies do, that's what babies need.

Baby #1 (aka, Agent E) had a different idea.

I'll spare you the saga of long nights sitting up with E, attempt after failed attempt to get her back in that bassinet. How I swung back and forth between letting her "really" wake up (i.e., get mad enough to start crying) and grabbing her immediately at the first whimper. How it took me weeks (months? It's a blur now.) to realize that her night time needs were not going to go away, and I needed a sustainable plan for dealing with them while maintaining my own sanity.

Someone had given me a copy of a very nice sounding book about infant/child sleep. I won't mention it specifically, but let's just say it implied that following its recommendations would not only lead to "better" sleep all around, but also health and happiness. So promising! And then I actually read it.

Truthfully, it made me queasy. Forcing baby into a strict schedule to fit your needs (not hers), solitary sleep in a dark room with no contact presented as the only option, listening to your baby cry for up to an hour, even if she made herself throw up. I had a hard time believing (to put it mildly) that people read this and think, yeah, that sounds about right.

I knew there had to be another way. I wandered the "baby and child care" section at the nearest bookstore looking for something to pop out at me. I came home with a copy of The Baby Book by Dr. Sears. I began reading it a little at a time during E's nursing sessions (which were plentiful, and new-mom confusing in their own right, another post).

Holy light-bulb moments. I nodded along so much with the text, at one point I might have been mistaken for a Breastfeeding Bobblehead.

The thing is, I hadn't considered sleep "options" at all while pregnant. In my mind, there was only one thing to do: solo sleep, bassinet to crib as quickly as possible, baby in her own room basically from the get-go. I didn't even realize there were choices: bedsharing vs. co-sleeping (no; they're not the same), crib in the same room vs. crib in a separate room, starting out the night in one place and moving on the first wake up. It seems ridiculous to me now (and even a tad embarrassing) that it never occurred to me that I could do whichever one of these worked for us as a family and it would be fine.

Still, I hesitated. If I bought a bed rail, did that mean I couldn't change my mind and move her out of our bed later if it weren't working? If I asked Hubby to dismantle the crib and refashion it as a sidecar, did that mean I had to commit to this idea long term?

I know a huge part of the problem I had reconciling my choices at first was that conventional wisdom about babies and sleep led me to think in absolutes. I was confronted from every angle by if . . . then statements. If you bring baby into your bed, then she'll never want to leave. If you don't teach her to sleep on her own, then she will depend on you to fall asleep forever. If you always nurse to sleep, then she will always expect it.

The major flaw in this logic is that it assumes babies (and children, and parents for that matter) are inflexible and stagnant. This is simply not true. Babies' needs change. Parents' needs change. Everything changes.

The other flaw is that it imposes an unnatural sense of urgency on a natural development. The belief that simply waiting it out is not good enough. That you need to take action. Speed things up.

The truth is, it is okay to wait. It is okay to allow your baby (or toddler, or preschooler) to ease into solo sleep following his or her own timeframe. Really.

As for my little Agent E? The one whose newborn night time needs caused me to re-evaluate? She'll be seven soon. Contrary to what well-meaning folks tried to warn me about, she sleeps well, all night (barring any illness or nightmares), in her own bed, without coercion. Oh, and she weaned a long time ago, mostly of her own accord. As all children eventually do, she gave up nursing to sleep, she no longer needed me to be near her all night, and she learned to not just tolerate but actually love her own bed in her own room . . . when she was ready.

Thanks for reading and have a blessed day.

p.s. How serendipitous that as I was drafting this post (and puttering, ahem) a status from SortaCrunchy (awesome blog, BTW) came through my newsfeed about a Facebook group, "Wait It Out" Method Support (Toddler/Infant Sleep).

Wordless Wednesday {after dinner walk}

noreply@blogger.com (Meegs) — Wed, 20 Mar 2013 14:11:00 +0000

After dinner walk with the Mei Tai.

Nursing My 3-Year Old

noreply@blogger.com (Meegs) — Mon, 11 Mar 2013 14:32:00 +0000

If there is one thing that parenthood has taught me, its to take all my expectations and throw them out the window! Another, everyone has an opinion about how you're doing it wrong. Both of those are certainly true in regards to Gwen's and my nursing relationship as well.

I never thought I would be here, almost a month past celebrating my daughter's 3rd birthday, still nursing twice a day. I'm surprised, delighted, a little nursed-out, but still with the warmest of feelings towards this amazing journey that we've taken together.

I'm also finding myself slightly more wary to talk about this beautiful thing we share. That makes me sad. Something that is so normal, something with so many benefits (to mama and baby), should be celebrated, not stigmatized. Yet because my baby is 3, and not a baby anymore, I get judgement from many. "She's too old, you're stunting her independence." "Its not nutritional anymore!" "Its clearly only for you at this stage, let her grow up."

Thankfully, for every naysayer I've encountered, I've also found a supporter. Expected sources, like my family, who know that there is still some good nutrients in breastmilk, despite Gwen's age. Like my husband, who expressed how he hopes I'm still planning to let her self wean, since she gets so much comfort and joy from her nursing sessions. Like the doctor who said that nursing while I had a minor illness was a great way to pass on some antibodies to keep Gwen from getting it as well. Some expected sources as well, like the mother of one of Gwen's former classmates, who asked if we were still nursing, and told me what an awesome thing it was!

My 3-year old is a healthy, happy, thriving, very independent and spirited girl. We have an amazing bond, which is strengthened by this special thing we share. I'm making less milk now, and I know our days are numbered, but I'm going to try and enjoy every one that we have left. And I invite anyone to keep their mind open, and there judgement to themselves!

Just a note to say that I am a big supporter of breastfeeding, but also a big supporter of doing what is best for your individual family. If you were unable to or chose not to breastfeed, or chose to wean at an earlier age, please don't take the above as an indictment. I only ask that you extend the same non-judgement to me, as I do to you.

For more information about ages of weaning, what primate physiology tells us about weaning, and other breastfeeding statistics, check out these resources:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/05/16/time-breast-feeding-weaning-primates_n_1521831.html
http://kellymom.com/fun/trivia/bf-numbers/
http://www.childinfo.org/breastfeeding_countrydata.php
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Breastfeeding

Being Proud of Our Bodies: Part 1

noreply@blogger.com (Kayce Pearson) — Tue, 05 Mar 2013 16:50:00 +0000

As women, especially after having children, it's easy to see the flaws in our bodies. The extra sag, the stretch marks, the bags under our eyes, the hair that has been rinsed in the sink for a few days, the makeup you haven't taken out of the case in months. It's easy to get caught up in the fact most moms don't look like supermodels do after they have a baby. We aren't a size 2 with perfect breasts and a tight stomach six weeks after birth.

My last pregnancy I felt better than I had in years. I gained over 30 pounds, which for me is a big deal, and then in a moment that still amazes me, I pushed her out in my living room.

However, this isn't about my whole body. Just my breasts. I know it may seem strange, but it's hard to appreciate my new body when I take everything in at once.

When I'm nursing or pumping, I thin down fast but look like Pamela Anderson when I'm engorged. Even nursing they aren't perky anymore and each time my milk comes in and then I stop nursing or pumping, my breasts are a bit flatter and a bit saggier than before. Think of two empty wallets, barely big enough for an A cup.

To help love my entire body, I've decided to think of all my breasts have done.

I nursed my first daughter for nine months, and then again for one month 29 months later. I exclusively nursed her for four months, and pumped when I went back to work when she was six months old. I grew her, inside my body and then outside.

I gave birth to a baby at 13 weeks 5 days, and three days later my milk came in. I went on to exclusively pump for two and a half months and donated to three babies in need.

My rainbow baby was born after Thanksgiving, and I have exclusively nursed her for 14 weeks 2 days, even with the rough first six weeks we had. I have also in the last two months pumped to donate to very good friends.

In the last almost six years, I have pumped a total of just under 12 gallons of milk to donate to what will be seven babies, and then topping out at 15 gallons when I add what I pumped when my first daughter was in the NICU and when I went back to work when she was almost six months old. I have grown two babies through nursing, the second even has the most amazing chub.

My breasts may be covered in stretch marks and not perky, they may be tired and battleworn, but they have done so much. I may not look like I did seven years ago, but they are serving the purpose they were made to serve. For that, I can love my body even more, and be proud of the work it has done.

Six Things to Do While You Wait to Give Birth in the Final Weeks of Your Pregnancy

noreply@blogger.com (Shawna) — Sun, 03 Mar 2013 13:58:00 +0000

So, babies come on their own schedule and this baby seems to have a plan completely different than his/her brother did. You see, this baby has already been in an entire week longer than my son was. Also, this time, my body seems to have learned its lesson on having no pre-labor and just trying to do everything at once and, this time, seems content to do lots of prodromal or pre-labor. (As a matter of fact, for the last three days, my body has decided to work on labor for about an hour or two every night at about the same time and then just decides "that's enough for the night" and quits.) I know that this baby already has a birth date in mind for him/herself, and that it is very important for the health of the baby and the success of my VBAC to allow this baby to come to fruition in his/her own time, but, in the meantime, I'm left with a lot of waiting that I didn't have to do with my first child and I have to come up with ways to spend it that won't (A) overtax me because I could go into labor any day now, (B) won't cause ongoing stress if I were to go into labor any day now (so no "big projects" that would have to lay around messing up the house for months while I have a newborn and no time to finish them), and (C) still allow me to do the things I need to do to keep the house stocked and ready for that moment when the baby does come. All this is in addition to ignoring the well meaning prods from people I know about why I can't just have that baby already and trying to keep my sense of humor intact as the baby grows ever larger, my body grows ever more tired, and I become ever more uncomfortable and feel less and less like doing anything. If you are in this same boat with me, I present this list of things to do while you wait in the final weeks with both sincerity and humor. Just keep reminding yourself that all babies come out . . . eventually!

1. Indulge in Your Favorite Hobbies.
Whether this is your first baby or not, it's sometimes hard to fathom the amount of "me" time that you will no longer have once you are caring for a newborn. An avid reader, pre-first child, I could not fathom that there would be days when the only time I would have available to me to read might be the two minutes in which I brushed my teeth at night while my husband held our son. There are days when a five minute shower is a luxury that must be fought for and must serve as your "alone" time for the entire day. I imagine this must be doubly true when it is not your first child you bring home, but your second (or third, fourth, fifth, etc.). So, spend these unexpected days of waiting indulging yourself a little. I've been embroidering and sewing a lot because it took me nearly a year after the birth of my first baby before I was able to embroider anything again. This time it may take longer. Might as well tackle the little projects that would ordinarily get put off!

2. Let Yourself Be a Little Lazy
This is one I'm really struggling with because I really want to have the house in good shape when the baby comes so that when I have to let it slide, it won't have as far to slide backwards. However, that said, I've been earnestly trying to let myself spend the day sitting if I feel way too tired or I've been trying to limit the amound of crazy cleaning/shopping/etc. I do on days that I have lots of pre-labor going on because I know that I have the marathon of labor in front of me and I want to be in top physical shape for it. So, when I feel I need to sleep/nap/rest I figure that I should because labor will wear me out and the more energy and strength I can bring into it, the better shape I will be in on the other side of it.

3.Eat Your Favorite Foods
I have terrible pregnancy reflux right now and am eating dairy free, so I can only do this within reason, but I've learned to look at every meal as if it is my last. I don't necessarily indulge myself by letting myself always have the fatty, sugary treats I might want, but I do make for myself my favorite protein rich, nutrient rich meals like spinach and sundried tomato omelets or homemade dairy free chicken pot pie, or even let myself eat out once in awhile. Those first few months after I have the baby, I know that we will mostly be eating the meals I have pre-frozen for us, but for now I look at each meal as my possible last meal before I go into labor. Why skimp and eat crap if I know that I could need whatever energy I get from that meal to carry me through who knows how many hours or even days of labor? My last labor I found that after the first ten hours or so, I just found it impossible to make myself eat anything, so in case that happens again, I'm trying to be very kind to myself right now. Besides, if this baby likes to nurse like my last one did (at every meal time), these may be the last warm meals I have for the next year or so!

4.Amuse Yourself by Considering Giving Honest Answers when People Ask "How are you doing?"
Okay, so maybe this is just my private hobby, but I sometimes get some good giggles by considering actually answering the cashier who notices the strange look on my face as I get a strong contraction as I'm checking out at the grocery store with an honest answer. "Ow, my uterus!" or "I'm okay. Just my cervix hurting as it ripens a little at a time." or "Everything's okay. I was just determining if I was really going into labor or not and trying to see if my water was breaking." The internal monologue of a very pregnant, "due" woman is not something that most of the world is ready to hear about, but it makes me laugh to think of telling them anyway just to see their reaction.

5.Read a Book/Watch a Movie About Climbing a Mountain or Some Other Inspiring Feat
Currently, I am reading a book about George Mallory (the climber who attempted to climb Mt. Everest three times between 1915 and 1924 and whose body was found on Mt. Everest in 1999 who may or may not have been the first to reach the peak, but there's no evidence as to whether or not he actually made it on his last attempt). Why I like doing this right before I know I'm going into labor is two-fold. One, it's entertaining and it reminds me that there is a world outside of whether or not I am going into labor today and two, I get a kick out of thinking about the challenges people put in front of themselves to conquer and the passion and the lengths they will go to in order to reach their goal. (I consider my VBAC my own, personal Everest.) This is especially true for men, in particular. I really wonder if Mallory would have been so intent to climb all those mountains if he had just been born a woman and could realize the challenge and satisfaction to be had in giving birth! Maybe he still would have needed mountains to climb, but maybe not!

6. Spend a Little Extra Time Enjoying Your Life
A new baby is a new beginning for your entire family, but it is also an ending. Something I wasn't really prepared for when I had my first baby was the way I would miss and mourn my former life. As much as I was ready to be a mother and desperately wanted that chapter of our lives to begin, life with my son irrevocably changed our life as a couple. There were growing pains on both sides and sometimes it was quite a struggle to see where "we" had gone. I am better prepared this time to understand that whatever amazingly good that may happen in the next few hours/days/weeks, I will also have to say good-bye to the life I love that consists of just my husband, my son, and me. So, I'm trying to soak up the bittersweet hours where it's easy to find time to wrap both arms around my (currently) only child and spend a little extra time looking at and talking with my husband before there are two little voices to drown him out (temporarily, but still!). I'm trying to enjoy outings that are much simpler without all the paraphenalia a newborn entails and with only one nap a day to plan around. I know that having another child is abosolutely the right thing for us and is everything we want to have happen any day now, but I also want (this time) to recognize, enjoy, and savor the final joyful days of being a family of three. I know that these days will seem like simpler times when our fourth arrives. It's a little like enjoying the last days of summer before moving on to the next grade of school. Sure, you are excited about what the next year will bring and you want to see the challenges you know that you are ready for, but it does feel good to sleep in those final days (or sleep at all in the case of impending newborn motherhood!).

Thanks for Reading!
Shawna

24 Hours of Crazy

noreply@blogger.com (Anastasia) — Thu, 28 Feb 2013 14:04:00 +0000

I was inspired by Valerie's post on 24 hours at her house, and decided to do it, too. I did it both for writing purposes and because I thought it would be a nice way to document this time in our lives.

Like Valerie, I picked a day (Tuesday of this week) and stuck with it, and let me tell you, the day turned out to be a doozy! Ok, here we go!

6:15 am -- I get out of bed to try and try to coax my ten month old daughter back to sleep. She's been up twice already. My husband has been trying to get her settled but needs to start getting ready for work. I wrap her up, lay her on her belly, and softly pat her back, and within a couple of minutes her even, deep breathing tells me she's out for the count. I run back to bed and try to snooze for the next ten minutes. Instead, my mind races with thoughts of said ten month old's first birthday party.

6:30 am -- Up and at 'em. I'm really tired. I make my bed while my husband and I discuss reasons not to have any more children (not sleeping through the night is at the top of the list). I take a shower.

6:46 am -- I gulp down coffee while browsing Facebook on my iPad. I try not to get agitated over various online dribble.

6:55 am -- I have to get dressed.

7:01 am -- My stomach hurts. Too much caffeine and aspirin. Taking so much migraine medication inhibits my stomach's processing of acid, making it build up and cause great pain. Must make smoothie before school so that my stomach is not empty.

7:03 am -- Kids are up. Well, Sofia is, anyway. She's scared of the hissing of the heater in her room so she's anxious to get out of bed. I look at Alex and he just buries his head under his blankets.

7:11 am -- Sofia makes her case for a treat after breakfast. She's unbelievably cute and endearing, until she hears no, and then she turns into a screaming banshee. Thankfully the baby sleeps through the ruckus.

7:26 am -- Request that kids get dressed. Alex obliges, Sofia protests very loudly, finally managing to wake Victoria. My husband changes her diaper before he leaves for work.

7:36 am -- Time for my husband to go. I cling to his leg and beg him not to leave me alone with the savages. He must go and I bay at the window as he walks away from the house. Sigh.

7:42 am -- I fix Sofia's hair with a style I found on Pinterest. She looks so adorable that I almost forget her morning screaming.

7:47 am -- I dry my hair while Alex brushes his teeth. He has been very reasonable this morning. He finishes and then calls Sofia in to brush. I love my big kid.

7:50 am -- I catch Victoria's fingers under the toilet seat lid. She screams. At the same time I battle and plead with Sofia to brush her teeth. I'm not going to have time to make the smoothie. I'm getting stressed.

7:55 am -- I make the smoothie after all! The kids are fascinated, with the older two asking me lots of questions about the ingredients (banana, strawberries, honey, cinnamon, and yogurt).

8:01 am -- Oh my lord, we are ready too early! (As I realize later, the relatively smooth morning was a bad sign of things to come. Haha.) I take the time to give extra hugs, and Alex tells me a story about how someone in his class ripped one of his books.

8:08 am -- On our way to school, Alex helps Sofia put something in her coat pocket, and we all hold hands all the way down the block. I have a moment of pure happiness.

8:17 am -- I helicopter parent Sofia through a small conflict with a classmate while waiting for the Pre-K teacher. As soon as I step away, they resolve it on their own.

8:20 am -- Arrive at PTA office. There's lots to do and discuss. I do some computer clean-up.

10:45 am -- As Sofia comes out at dismissal her teacher says she needs to talk to me. Uh oh. I question Sofia but she seems happy enough, so I try not to worry.

10:55 am -- I listen while the Pre-K teacher describes a minor playground incident. I strongly dislike her approach and I proceed to become irate and remind the teacher that the kids are only four and will make mistakes. I question Sofia once again but all I get are inane mumblings. I am rude to the teacher and yank Sofia out of the building.

11:05 am -- I make it about half way down the block before turning around, going back to the school, and asking to speak to the Assistant Principal. I am furious and complain about Sofia's teacher. The Assistant Principal graciously listens and assures me she will take care of it.

11:17 am -- I find alternate side of the street parking quickly, and I call my husband and yell endlessly about school incident.

12:06 pm -- At home, I feel bad about being rude to Sofia's teacher. She's a nice woman, she means well. I worry neurotically about possible consequences.

12:45 pm -- Sofia is down for her nap and I settle in to nurse Victoria. She is playful and at first I resist, anxious to get her to sleep, but I finally give in to her antics and I begin to feel better. I finally put her down around 1:30.

2:24 pm -- I want a latte. I break out our DeLonghi.

2:26 pm -- I briefly consider running for a position with the Education Council of my school district. Temporary insanity ends and I bookmark it for next year.

2:36 pm -- Victoria is up and inconsolable. I hold her for a bit but it's time to wake up Sofia so I can get her dance outfit on and pick up Alex from school, so I have to put Victoria down. She crawls after me screaming at the top of her lungs.

2:55 pm -- We are running late and Sofia refuses to do anything but stand and cry. She tries to put on her dance tights but they are inside out, and she also has to go to the bathroom. I pull her tights off, run her to the bathroom and put her on the potty, while Victoria follows, crawling and crying. I finally get Sofia dressed, Victoria into her winter suit, and I load myself up like a donkey.

3:02 pm -- I am going down the outside stairs of my house, wearing the baby, carrying a diaper bag and one other bag, and holding the stroller. Sofia is behind me. I'm rushing and don't look where I'm going, and I completely miss the last three steps. I twist my ankle and fall down on my butt. Hard. I can't get up. I'm in complete blinding pain and I'm afraid my ankle is broken. I think about Alex waiting for me in the school courtyard. Sofia panics and begins to cry. $!&@$!#%*"!!!!! Thankfully, Victoria is still snug in her Pikkolo and completely unaware that anything is happening. Moment of happiness--not quite.

3:15 pm -- I've managed to get up, strap Sofia into the stroller, and make it to get Alex on time. My foot is numb at first and then begins to get hot and tingly. We are already outside so I decide to go ahead and walk the 20 blocks to Sofia's dance class. I stop at CVS for a heated pad and an ACE bandage.

3:57 pm -- While Sofia twirls in the next room, I regale friends at dance class with colorful stories of the day's events. Victoria practices her new walking skills. She eats tiny pieces of popcorn off the floor before I can limp over to her to take them. I try with futility to get Alex to sit and do his homework--he just wants to play with the other older siblings of the little dancers.

4:45 pm -- My husband walks in and he is a sight for sore eyes. I show him my now horribly swollen ankle and garner some sympathy. He's left work early and has brought the car to drive us home. While he snuggles Victoria I have a chance to sit with Alex and talk about his day in detail. We hug and I feel happy.

5:33 pm -- We are home and I am resting my very painful ankle. I sit with my iPad and decide that I want to run for the Education Council after all. I complete the application while chaos ensues all around me--Victoria is tugging at my leg looking to nurse, Alex and Sofia are fighting endlessly. The fact that I can't freely get up and do stuff is maddening. Crap, we still need to eat dinner.

6:37 pm -- My mom is over for a visit and I hobble around the kitchen trying to get dinner together. Various children are underfoot, making me anxious. I worry about tripping over someone and hurting myself further. I blame my helpful husband for anything I can think of. Sigh.

7:48 pm -- Dinner is an hour late but we are all eating. Alex scarfs down his spaghetti and one whole meatball (actually made from cannellini beans). Sofia pokes, stirs, mashes, and then declares she's not happy with the meal. We invoke the five bite rule and she's done.

8:48 pm -- My mom reads a book to Sofia while Alex reads his school library book and I nurse Victoria on the couch. Another good moment to cherish.

9:00 pm -- Kids are in bed, 45 minutes late. Damn my stupid sprained ankle.

9:30 pm -- I'm nursing Victoria but I can't get comfortable. Our new sofa is hard and it hurts my butt. I finally give in and lay down, and fall asleep nursing.

12:55 am -- My husband helps me get to bed. I can't put any weight on my ankle. Everything gets dark and my ears start ringing really loudly and I feel like I'm going to pass out. I make it to the bed where I lay feeling cold and clammy.

3:23 am -- Victoria is up to nurse. She goes back to sleep without much fuss and I am grateful.

5:05 am -- Victoria is up again. I'm hoping my husband can settle her but her cries pierce through the early morning silence and he brings her over to nurse. She is cute and cuddly and we sleep side by side for the rest of the morning. Another good moment.

6:15 am -- I have hardly slept because of the pain from my damn ankle. My husband is spending the day working from home and he will take the kids in to school. Thank goodness, because when I try to get up I feel like I am going to pass out again. Boy, what a 24 hours it has been!

***

My ankle is painful, bruised and swollen, but hopefully just a bad sprain. I hope I can hobble my kids over to school for the next few days.

Liking vs. Loving my Spirited Child

noreply@blogger.com (Meegs) — Mon, 25 Feb 2013 14:00:00 +0000

I had another post in the works for today, but I'm putting it aside for later. Instead I have something I have to get out, something I have to confess, so it can stop weighing on me. I'm going to be so honest here, and I'm a little afraid of it. It's hard to admit your own shortcomings, and maybe even harder to admit ugly feelings because they seem to speak even more to who you are inside.

I remember that Gwen seemed to hit certain emotional developmental milestones early. Around 20 months, and definitely by 22, I stared getting a preview of the fun that was the "terrible twos." The threes, I've said it before, have been described to me as "two, with intent." She hit that early too. So while she's only been 3 for a bit over a week, this attitude has been here for a bit, and I'm over it already.

Guys, I'm just going to say it. I love Gwen, with all my heart, she fills me with love and a simple hug from her is a balm to me... but frankly, there are times lately that I don't like her. When she completely ignores my requests. The time she told me to shut up. When she whines, constantly. When she throws a fit because I ask her to do something so unreasonable like clean up toys that she's strewn around the living room when she's done playing with them, or take a single bite of something that she begged me to make her to eat.

I am loathe to ever wish time with her away, but I find myself wishing for bedtime, wishing for 4!

Now there are great parts to this age as well, and I am so grateful for those. However, she just seems so much better at pushing my buttons now, no matter how many loving boundaries I give her, and this has brought out a side of me that I don't like. My carefully cultivated patience has gone out the window, and I suddenly feel like a newly unfrozen Austin Powers ("I can't seem to CONTROL the sound of my VOISE!").

So here's where I ask for your help gentle readers: What's your secret for hitting the reset button? Yoga helps me, but since I can only go once a week, I need something to help me get my mama mojo back the other 6 days of the week. I don't chose my daughter's actions, but I can change and chose my reactions.

Help me reset our off balance relationship, so I can like my daughter as much as I love her again... and survive this crazy age.

Editor's Note: I wrote this yesterday, while sitting in the car with a napping Gwen. We'd had a morning full of butting heads. We went on to have a wonderful afternoon together. Thank goodness. Then we butted heads at bedtime. ::sigh:: We went on to end the night nicely, but this is how our days have been going.

Letters From My Son

noreply@blogger.com (Anastasia) — Thu, 14 Feb 2013 14:21:00 +0000

My son is almost eight and loves to read and write. As soon as he was able to read on his own I started to leave him notes in his lunchbox every so often; at first, he would just read them, but then he started writing back, and now, we've gotten into full fledged correspondence.

Each phase of parenthood brings joy, challenges, and plenty of unexpected developments. I did not expect note-writing to be part of the relationship between my son and I, but I'm so glad it is. I hope it continues well into adolescence and adulthood. Following are some of his more memorable expressions in writing.

This is one of the first notes he wrote to me. Things I love about this:

a) It's clear and to the point.

b) It's a run-on sentence.

c) It's all one word.

***

This is from Kindergarten. The spelling is atrocious and part of the whole "sound words out" approach of the NY school system, whether they be spelled correctly or not (which I hate, but that's another blog post), so it's translated below.

"I called out 2 times I got out of my seat 1 time I talked 2 times" This means he knows he's going to be in trouble...

"But you are still the best mommy ever and I still love you." So basically, I still rule. Or, he just wants to avoid the trouble.

***

Ok, technically this isn't a note; it's a drawing. But I enjoy the fact that his love for me is so strong it demanded its own exclamation point.

***

I hate migraines. But I love the fact that they produce this:

(I love you mommy I hope you feel better I love you so much)

***

That's right. He gets to go on vacation, all. Because. Of. ME.

***

Yup, you heard it here. My kid thinks I should be President, y'all! Cunningham 2016!

Also, I organize things very nicely.

***

I just love his use of the slash in this one.

Adorable/hysterical.

***

This made me laugh so hard. I had to really hold it in when I had to give him the note back.

***

Lest you thought it was all fun and games around here, I am apparently not perfect. Clearly, my humor is lost on my child.

He will be a very good supervisor some day. He already knows to start with the positive feedback and then politely give some constructive criticism.

***

"Green all day" means that he was good in school (they have a color system--green, yellow, orange, red).

Also, I am a number one mom. You know, in case there was every any doubt.

***

I intend to keep all the notes and turn them into a scrapbook. It's amazing to see my son's writing develop over the last couple of years. When he gets older I'd like to get us a correspondence notebook where we can communicate on a regular basis through writing; it really is a wonderful thing. I read an article once where a mother was discussing all the things she and her daughter shared through writing that she doesn't know would have been communicated otherwise.

Dear Alex, I love you.

What's Sex Got to Do With It?: Learning to Appreciate Your Baby No Matter What

noreply@blogger.com (Shawna) — Wed, 13 Feb 2013 14:00:00 +0000

Recently, I overheard a family at a restaurant being asked about the sex of their newborn baby while their beautiful (and I mean GORGEOUS, curly haired, obviously very spirited) preschooler proudly stood near by. The mother sighed and said "It's another little girl. We tried for two boys and we're stuck with two girls. What can I say? We're cursed." I know that little girl heard every word her mother said and although her mother may not have meant it literally, I couldn't help but wonder if this was the first or even the last time these sweet little girls would hear such a "joke" from someone that they have the right to believe will love and protect them the most. It also made me really examine myself and some feelings I've had during this pregnancy.

You see, before I ever got pregnant the first time, I had dreams of having a little girl. I knew what to call her. I knew the talks I wanted to have with her. I daydreamed about what life would be with her. But then I got pregnant and almost from the very beginning, I had the strong feeling I had a little boy. So strong in fact, that when I was told at 23 weeks that I was pregnant with a girl, I couldn't stop crying because I felt like someone had stolen the little boy I had bonded to away from me. For five weeks, I tried to make peace with the news that I was not having a boy, but was having a girl. Then, at another ultrasound, a different technician asked me if we knew what we were having. Wishing to know her unbiased opinion, I asked her what she thought we were having and she replied, "Well, I can't tell for sure because this baby has a foot in the way, but I think these might be testicles." My husband was shocked and dismayed to find out that we may not, in fact, "know" for sure what we were having, but I was thrilled. The little boy I had bonded with was back in the picture. A little over four months later, our son was born.

After having my son, I loved him to pieces, but a part of me still dreamed of having a little girl. I'll admit many of my dreams bear the gender stereotypes of wanting to go dress shopping, bond over sewing/cooking, and just engaging in "girl talk" as well as finally getting to visit the larger half of the baby section where all the really cute baby clothes are. (Which of course, depending on the daughter might never come true or might even come true with a boy just as well as a girl. . . a son could love sewing and shopping just as much as a daughter.) When I felt overwhelmed by motherhood and worried that maybe I couldn't handle another baby, I would look at my friend's daughters and think, but if I quit now, I would never have a daughter!

This time, when we finally got pregnant, I felt for sure I knew the sex again only to go into the ultrasound once more and be told the opposite. Once again, I felt it difficult to make peace with the new information. Because the ultrasound had been wrong before and we are likely having no new ones this pregnancy, I have not made the information public in case it is wrong again, but privately, I struggled to make peace with what might prove to be a dashed expectation. The baby I thought I knew so well early on, might not be who I thought this baby would be!

Yet, hearing that mother complaining aloud about the sex of her children, made me really think about how much sex really doesn't matter in the long run. My dreams of having a little girl pre-children were quickly surpassed by the wonderful reality of life with my son. The early "knowledge" I felt I had about this baby, should it prove wrong, would do nothing to surpass the blessing I have in having another little soul entrusted in my care no matter what sex s/he turns out to be. With so many would be mothers struggling out there to have any children, how can I or any other lucky parent really complain about getting a child of a sex we were not expecting or (in case of the mother in the restaurant) maybe didn't want initially? After all, child's personality is far more important, interesting, and compelling than just whether or not s/he is declared a boy or girl at birth. We become obsessed with finding out whether or not a child is a boy or a girl because we think that gives us a shortcut into knowing what they are going to be like growing up or as grown ups, but honestly, sex is no more indicative of who our children are than their birth weight or height proves to be. It is just one piece of the information. It would be my honor at this point to birth another boy, a girl, or even a hermaphrodite because what is most important is the soul inside and the bond that we will build together. I hope that everyone who ever wants a baby is "cursed" the way that lucky mother was "cursed" in that she dreamed of having a family and now she has one. I only hope that wherever she is, she soon learns that her two little girls are just as precious and as wonderful as her two dream sons would have been, maybe even more so because they are real, they are here, and they are more than just a box marked "female" on their birth certificates.

Thanks for reading,
Shawna