Cheers!

2011 was a wonderful year for our family.  We didn't have any babies this year and we didn't move.  It was relatively calm; we really settled in as a family of four.  We had great visits from family members and we flew to the East Coast twice to see family as well.  The beginning of 2011 was rough for me personally-- and by extension, it probably wasn't always easy for my supportive husband.  I was at times swept under water by post-partum depression and anxiety.  I reflected on my experience just a few days ago as I did a few simple household tasks before heading out the door with kids.  We were all awake, dressed, fed, and I had the energy to empty the dishwasher and fold some laundry and still leave the house.  If this sounds like a piece of cake to you, thank your lucky stars.  I did.
 
I stopped and smiled to myself and thought-- I must really be better.  The healing process for me was such a gradual one that it seemed I'd always feel exhausted and drained.  I was terrified that I would forever feel uncomfortable in my own skin, like a lioness pacing in a small cage.  As a competetive, educated woman, it is still difficult for me to admit that I needed help here and there.  I strive for perfection and yet, I can vividly recall tears streaming down my face as our post-partum doula helped calm one crying child while I had the other (sleeping) child.  I needed another woman to help me mother my children for a couple of hours and I felt that I had failed in all of the ways that matter. 

The truth is, though, I was giving my children my best.  Finding ways to support myself and making Lindsey, not just Mama, a priority helped me push through the thick of PPD and anxiety.  It is still important to take time away, whether it's book club once a month-- which has been just fabulous-- or an hour in the evening out by myself.  It's true that I haven't slept for more than three or four hours at time in over three and a half years, but I feel much more in tune with myself.  This year, we're making it a priority for my husband to get away now and then too (and more time for the two of us as well)!  Happy New Year to you!

The Witching Hour: Why you won't be getting a homemade gift this year

Most of the mothers I have met will agree that, at least some of the time, there seems to be a particular part of their day that is just awful when compared to the rest.  Call it the witching hour, call it meltdown time, call it 3:00 pm . . .   The day starts off well enough, with morning's freshness and newness, activities or preschool, and lunch.  Sometimes we add in some errands around town and perhaps a library trip or play date.  Soon it is evident that Henry (and generally, the under 3 crowd-- or older if you're a lucky one) needs a nap and I try my best to make it happen as quickly as he needs. 

For those non-nappers, a little quiet time can work wonders to make it through the afternoon until a second wind helps them stick it out through dinner, play, bath, etc time.  When the weather cooperates, we go outside during this afternoon time.  Unfortunately, it is thirty degrees out and a little drizzly.  I also have several things I actually need to do during Henry's nap time as well, so bundling up to stand outside doesn't rank very high on my priority list today. 

This afternoon, I attempted to bake four or five dozen cookies (and make a tasty appetizer) for a neighborhood party and cookie exchange.  This is fun, fabulous idea, don't get me wrong.  By the time I was able to begin the cookies, however, Henry was two hours over-due for his nap and fighting it every step of the way and Evelyn was whining and frustrated with a pbs online game I let her play so that I could bake.  I put Henry on my back in a carrier and he cried and loudly in my ear while I sang to him and made the cookies.  To add insult to injury, Evelyn was very hurt that I made these cookies without her help and through a crying fit on the dining room floor.  I think she was tired and overwhelmed.  So, why am I writing this instead of baking (or checking myself into the Spa under an alias)?  I finished the first batch and they're cooling on the counter.  Henry finally fell asleep in the carrier so I transferred him to the bed and I'm letting Evelyn watch Bob the Builder and eat frozen yogurt. 

I have no idea how other people make so many cute or crafty gifts this time of year.  I also don't know how we all survive the witching hour, but if your survival strategy involves somehow taking a nap with your child, please don't tell me.  I can't handle the envy today (wink).

    

A Reminder

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.



from Dream Work by Mary Oliver, published by Atlantic Monthly Press

My (lack of) Hipster Cred

I'm all for geek chic glasses, skinny jeans, pricey organic vegan food, hemp scarves, and awesome music no one's ever heard, but I've recently suffered a crushing blow to any semblence of hipster credibility.  No, it's not my minivan (it's black!  it's kind of ironic!  super cushy!).  Not the preschooler and young toddler accompanying me-- they're actually very cool and creative. 

I have to just say it.  I don't love Bon Iver.  I really wanted to love them, especially after reading amazing reviews, but I bought the most recent album and spent the whole time listening to it wondering if the dude was going to sing in falsetto for every song.  I love to sing in the car and couldn't even tell what he was saying.  How could I sing along?  Yes, the songs were moving and emotional and even haunting at times.  Still, I think I'm just not a fan.  The end.

Hipster Ariel
P.S.  This is how I look every night when I realize that I haven't written enough yet for NaNoWriMo!

Starting Solids

 I've wanted to write about introducing solid food to babies for quite some time.  It is exciting for parents to offer a first taste of solid food to their babies.  The adorable expressions that undoubtedly ensue are priceless.  What this?  Carrots!  Oh my!  Still, I don't advocate rushing into solids.  I knew that my babies were getting all of the nutrition that they needed from breast milk.  Of course there are instances in which a particular mother may be advised to begin solids early due to a baby's low vitamin or nutrient levels and, as I am not a medical professional, I'm not arguing with that.

Here, I am speaking to the practice of shoveling rice cereal or sweet potato into the mouth of baby who isn't yet sitting alone or picking up pieces of food with his fingers-- these are key signs that a baby is ready to eat solid food. There are old myths that babies will sleep better if given solid food and they've been debunked.  In fact, babies that wake at night are at lower risk for SIDS.  (Part of what makes sleep sharing safe is that babies spend less time in a state of deep sleep than babies who sleep alone-- but, I digress. . . .)  One reason a baby who has been given solids such as cereal at an early age (a few months, for instance) might seem to sleep longer is that the baby's body needs to work much harder to digest the food.  A baby's digestive system was designed for breast milk.

Have you recently asked yourself: "When should my baby start solids?"  Well, here you go!  Some *solid* advice, courtesy of La Leche League International (see link above):

Breastfed babies do not need to have complementary food introduced until about the middle of the first year. Before that time, you will notice some signs that your baby is changing developmentally, in preparation for beginning solids in a few months. You will notice that:

• he becomes more sociable, playing and holding "conversations" with you during a nursing session
• he has a growth spurt and nurses more frequently for a while
• he imitates the chewing motions you make whilst eating -- he is practicing!

You will know that he is really ready to start solids when:

• he is about six months old
• he can sit up without any support
• he continues to be hungry despite more frequent nursing which is unrelated to illness or teething
• he has lost the tongue-thrusting reflex and does not push solids out of his mouth
• he can pick up things with his finger and thumb (pincer grasp)

Babies who are ready for solids can usually feed themselves. Mothers often report that they knew their babies were ready when they picked up food from a plate, chewed it, swallowed it, and wanted more.
Listen to your baby! Babies with a tendency to allergies may refuse solids until later in their first year. As long as they are growing well and are happy and healthy, there is no need for concern.

Other resources I like:

Developmental Readiness


Waiting is worth it
 

6 Reasons to delay introducing solid food

Happy Anniversary to my Love

2007

Today is my fourth wedding anniversary and I have a little story to share.  Actually, I have many, many stories to share, but one will suffice for now.  My husband, Chris, and I met while attending the same university.  Winters were bitter cold, as our sprawling campus was on a hill in upstate New York.  We walked with a group of friends into a house just off campus and a visiting priest happened to be with us.  He was visiting from Africa and shivering in the cold living room as he joked about our "pleasant" weather.  Without hesitating, Chris took off his gloves and offered them to the man.  I caught a glimpse of the generous and loving man I would fall in love with. 

I was a Senior in High School. . .

Where were you ten years ago? 

I was a Senior in High School, planning to attend NYU and discussing college applications with my guidance counselor.  Her phone rang.  She answered it.  She looked upset and said "Oh my God, they bombed the World Trade Center."  Clearly, this was before we knew what actually happened.  She was relaying what her State Trooper husband had heard.  So much more than the New York skyline was permanently altered that day.

Follow-up: another truth

 "Most parents fall into one of two categories: those who give their children guidance about the world of emotion and those who don't."- John Gottman

More about John Gottman, and raising an emotionally intelligent child here and here.
“Much of today’s popular advice to parents ignores emotion,” says Dr. Gottman. “Instead it relies on child-rearing theories that address children’s misbehavior, but disregards the feelings that underlie that misbehavior. The ultimate goal of raising children should not be simply to have an obedient and compliant child. Most parents hope for much more for their children.”

A Universal Truth

I realize the idea of a universal truth can be controversial, but hear me out. At the lake this evening, it became clear that there are two basic types of people-- regardless of age. There are people who throw stones at the ducks and people who don't. We steer clear of the kids who do this and Evelyn knows to wait until the ducks have gone by before tossing her pebble and counting the rings that form after it plunks into the lake. 

I always thought that the whole "tossing rocks at water fowl" trend was a wild toddler thing.  Unfortunately, it is not-- a twenty-something thought it was quite fun until her friends called her out on her cruel behavior.  Ah well.  Evelyn noticed all of this but wasn't bothered.  She told me "Evelyn and her friends don't throw rocks by the ducks."  So there you have it, if you ever need to draw a line in the sand when choosing friends, ask if they throw stones at ducks. 

Worse Than Smoke

Most parents avoid exposing their children to smoke (I'm talking about the non-campfire variety here).  We actually very rarely see anyone smoking where we live, but if we're standing around and notice that someone is smoking, we're likely to cross the street or find somewhere else to go.  More pervasive than cigarette smoke, is the public chiding of one's spouse.  You can cut the tension with a knife and depending on your level of awareness, it can ruin your nice family outing or your day at the beach. 

I like to keep a positive tone here, but this really drives me nuts.  So, here is my PSA:  Attention strangers, neighbors, and acquaintances, it is incredibly awkward  (and rather upsetting for my children) to witness your tense interaction with your spouse.  If you can't handle going for more than an hour without belittling your partner, I am so sorry.  It's even more sad when children are involved and seem totally unfazed by the situation because they're used to it.  My kids, however, are not familiar with your squabbles.  Please, save the passive-aggressive jabs and comments for a time when you'll be in private.  You know, like therapy?

Was that too harsh?  Ah well, I'll be back to my bright-side self next time.

Children Get Older



Over the weekend, we attended an alumni event with the kids.  The picnic coincided with Sea Fair weekend festivities, taking advantage of the amazing views from the hosts' home.  We all had a great time, though the Blue Angels were a bit too loud for Henry's liking (and nap time was approaching) toward the end of the shin-dig.  I'm glad we made it this year, as the previous three years we've been unable to make it-- apparently we've been quite busy with newborn, then summer travels, then another newborn.  Whew! 



And, if you (parents) ever want to throw your mind into a real tail spin, write your child's name followed by their potential year of graduation.  It was just a cute little addition to the name sticker, class of '32, but it was crazy to think about my little ones all grown up and in college. . . of course, being "double legacies," they'll either really love our alma matter or they'll be really sick of hearing about it.  Only time will tell!

Saltwater Air

Have you had moments with your family which make you think to yourself, I am going to look back on this-- years from now-- and I will desperately miss this time?  I've been lucky enough to have a few of those moments this weekend. 

The easy smiles on my children's sun-kissed faces and the laughter between my husband and me as we dug our toes into the sand and admired the mountains across the Sound. . . I wish I could bottle that kind of happiness.

Almost A Break

It's amazing how much one's perspective can change when deprived of sleep and any semblance of personal space.  I scurried off to the dentist today with a smile on my face.  Yes, I knew that I would need at least three shots and I really don't like them.  I also really don't like the sound of a drill coming from inside my mouth.  Still, my dentist does offer digital TV. 

What would I like to watch?  I had no idea what was on since, if it isn't Mr. Roger's re-runs or an occasional Caillou, we rarely watch TV before 9 PM.  I watched a retired couple look for a second home on HGTV.  It wasn't the worst way to spend an hour. 

When "Helpful Hints" Don't Help

Nothing beckons "helpful hints" and tips from family, friends, and even strangers like pregnancy and childbirth.  Pregnant women and new mothers are in transition.  We often think, read, and talk a lot about the ways in which their worlds are changing.  This information-seeking and dialoguing is one very common way to prepare for the life-changing process of adding another human being to the world.  I received great advice from time to time and I still appreciate it.  Still, the best "advice" was actually what I gleaned through observation.  The happiest and healthiest babies and Moms I saw while caring for children were those who were in sync.  Breastfeeding, responding to their babies' cries, and cosleeping were very often the common denominators.  I read every book and article that spoke to me and I kept my eyes open.  I feel comfortable with where this has led me. 

When advice is so abundant that it seems to seep out of the woodwork, however, we're left to sift through and discern whether or not to file it away for later.  And, in the event of blatant bad advice, we can't always keep those pesky words at bay in the middle of the night when we're worrying that we've made a wrong turn somewhere along the way.

Once the baby has arrived, some people may find it near impossible to keep mum if you do things differently from them.  Many mothers have found the "Pass the Bean Dip" strategy to be invaluable.  Basically, you remain positive while standing your ground (don't defend yourself, justify your actions as a parent, etc) and change the subject or move the conversation along.  For instance, if a relative or friend (or neighbor or coworker, etc) asks something like "Is she a good baby?  Does she sleep through the night for you?" you just smile and say "She's a wonderful baby!  Thanks, please pass the bean dip."  In this example, I may initially feel that I need to explain why we're not sleep-training, but an explanation opens the conversation to debate.  If pressed, you remain positive but firm.  There is no need to defend your infant or yourself.  A simple "I know that you love us.  This (nursing, cosleeping, not spanking, etc) works for our family and it's not up for debate" will do.  Be brave.  I'm still working on that part.       

Mum's the Word?

Mothering two children has been a daily, sometimes hourly, exercise in humility.  Babies (and toddlers, for that matter) don't care what kind of education or non parenting-specific skills you have (unless said skills can be used to make them laugh and/ or create something they will enjoy).  If my children were to list my qualifications, I am pretty sure that they would look like this:

Evelyn:  Mom can sing, dance, "Mamanurse," and build great obstacle courses.  She seems pretty good at makeup and hair since she spends forever (15-20 minutes, easily!) doing this in the morning.  She knows how to reach things and she is strong enough to drag a chair over to the counter so that I can cook.  She can also work the stove and oven all by herself.  She reads to me and can play dollhouse like nobody's business! 

Henry:  Milk!  Smiles, tickles, and cuddles.  This lady rescues me all the time when I start to cry or get hurt on the floor.  She seems to have an anti-exploratory agenda-- Mama comes to get me every single time I find something interesting like dryer lint or chalk or a muddy boot to suck on.  Still, she's pretty great!

Now, my oldest child is still under three years old.  Essentially, I am a not-quite three- years-old mother.  This fact has been weighing on my mind lately when I consider writing about something.  I sometimes wonder, who am I to encourage co-sleeping or child-led weaning?  I am one woman.  I can share only my experiences and hope that they might prove interesting, amusing, or-- just maybe-- helpful to others.  I have not written expressly about "AP" ideas lately, but I think that the next time the mood strikes me, I'll just go for it and hope for the best.

Memories and Keepsakes

I just ordered a photo book for Henry.  It took me fourteen months to create a comprehensive collection of special pictures for Evelyn, but I realized that this time around, I probably won't have blocks of two hours at a time to work on something like that.  I had some time this morning while the kids played (mostly together) and then again while Henry nursed and napped, so I decided to seize the moment.  This book is about twenty pages, but covers birth, professional newborn shots, and the few baptism pictures that remained after my laptop's harddrive crashed (for the second time!  Back up those precious memories, folks!).  I think it will be beautiful.

Keepsakes and mementos are important to me.  I keep handwritten baby books for each child in addition to the bound photo books.  Right now, my plan is to create one photo book (and order two or three copies, so that each child can have a copy to keep) with memories every year or two as a way to document their development and whatever fun things we do as a family: travels, vacations, holidays, and the like.  Digital cameras and online photosharing make it so simple to snap an adorable shot and send it to dozens (or hundreds) of friends, but I am not convinced that this is the best method to preserve photos for the next generation.  I'll have to keep thinking about that.  

baby Evelyn Spring 2009

Cheers!

Happy New Year!  I don't know about you, but this has been a big year in our family.  When recalling the high point of 2010, Chris and I simultaneously proclaimed, Henry!  This decade has been ridiculously packed with life-changing events.  Some highlights between 2000 and 2010:

• graduated high school
• attended NYU for a year before transferring to Cornell (where I met some of my absolute best friends)
• met the love of my life
• graduated from college
• married the love of my life
• moved across the country (opposite coast)
• gave birth to a daughter
• bought a house
• gave birth to a son

Here's to a year in which I am fully present and in the moment more often.  Here's to adventures as a family of four.  Cheers!

The Greatest gift

In one week, we celebrate Christmas.  For me, Christmas entails fragrant incense, a community gathered together, beautiful music, and precious time with some of our family.  We'll cook a nice meal and splurge on wine and rich desserts.  There will be prayer and laughter and (hopefully) some rest.  I am looking forward to all of this.  Still, I've been thinking a lot about the gifts we will place beneath and around the tree.

Gift-giving is a big part of our celebration.  We are finished with our Christmas shopping and I am so excited to see Evelyn's reaction.  Henry will be happy to be in the arms of someone who loves him (or on the ground, crawling toward wrapping paper).  I'm not worried about what to give him this year!  Evelyn, though, will have a lot to say.  She is very expressive, often exclaiming "Oh, I would love to do that!" or "No thank you, Mama.  I don't like that!" 

Throughout my own childhood I didn't get everything I ever asked for-- and I didn't expect to receive it.  Half the fun of creating a wish list is the element of surprise, I think.  I'd come up with a long list of ideas and, somehow, my Mom knew which items I wanted or needed the most.  I have been trying to think of a favorite Christmas gift.  Certainly, there are a couple of large stand-out gifts.  One year, I received a nineteenth century dresser (I'd had my eye on it at a local antique dealer's shop).  Another year, my Mom gave me a hope chest.  Looking back though, I think the best gift I received was not something that I used every day.

My favorite Christmas gift is a hard cover, three volumes in one, Anne of Green Gables book.  This is not my favorite book, but I treasure it because of the way it makes me feel.  I received this book in 1994 and I clearly remember where we were when I pointed it out to my mother.  My siblings and I were with my Mom in her college book store.  You see, she attended college after the four of us were born, and after she and my father were divorced.  Needless to say, a single mother of four children isn't exactly rolling in money.  When I asked for the book that summer, I knew it was likely that my Mom would say "no."  She did, but she also said she would keep it in mind for the future.

Weeks and months went by and I forgot all about it until Christmas morning, when I unwrapped Anne of Green Gables.  On the inside cover, my mother wrote the year alongside "Merry Christmas!  Love, Mom and Dad" but I know she chose this gift on her own.  My mother remembered that I had liked the looks of this hefty book.  I felt so loved and so heard-- an important feeling for one of four children, especially during the stressful days of divorce and working parents.  It is this sense of a treasured feeling that I hope to capture in my own gift-giving as a mother.

I've said it before

I was just reading through various blogs and opinion articles on parenting.  If you're thinking "Is she trying to stress herself out?" you might not be off-base.  There is certainly a wide spectrum of beliefs and "truths." Last January, I wrote a post that is still relevant for my life right now.  So, instead of re-writing it today, I'll send you there ("You're doing it wrong!").

And, if you're interested in being sucked into a time vortex (in a pleasant way, I promise), check out the Natural Parents Network.  I've found some really well-articulated ideas about Attachment Parenting.

Hungry hands

Today was a perfect example of the pendulous nature of parenthood.  The day went from good to bad to too much and then, miraculously, landed at an even-tempered peaceful.  This morning, I noticed that my sweet husband had tidied up the kitchen and dishes.  Evelyn had already used the potty (I'll get to this) and was dressed.  It was a very nice way to wake up.  Unfortunately, the morning became a bit chaotic as we realized that Chris was (again) getting out the door later than we had intended.  I completely missed my physical therapy appointment because we didn't have child care.  Essentially, this meant that I felt awful for missing the appointment and my neck and shoulders were in pretty bad shape.  As for the too much part of the day?  Well, both children have been glued to me since Monday afternoon.  The lack of personal space-- or even ten minutes to breath, to drink water, to think-- bubbled over by this afternoon.  I wasn't sure how much more I could handle without a break.

Henry is getting over a cold and he's not quite himself.  He's been crying whenever I set him down or step away.  He just needs extra closeness right now, so I wore him in the Ergo carrier for a good part of the day-- though he did not care for my chopping an onion to make dinner tonight.  I set him down for that; he didn't appreciate being on the floor either.  Evelyn is on day three of being diaper-free.  She's doing quite well, but she does occasionally become so engrossed in a project (or so cranky and over-tired, as was the case yesterday), that she forgets about going to the potty.  My job as her mother is to be supportive and provide guidance in developmentally appropriate ways-- this means that when Evelyn is ready to ditch the diapers, I am ready with her.  I just had no idea how hard it would be to be completely in tune with both children and somehow be prepared to drop whatever it is I was doing (sorry, Henry) when Evelyn needed help in the bathroom.

I think we're all just making it through the day, parents.  Sometimes, we move purposefully and with ease.  Sometimes we reach a point where the only option seems to be surrendering to the chaos, the beautiful chaos of life.  As I buckled the kids into the car this afternoon, I uttered a small prayer.  I needed a little mercy, or maybe pity.  I needed some breathing room.  After stopping for a latte and a short drive by the horse pastures, both kids were asleep.  Henry didn't stay asleep, but Evelyn slept for two whole hours.  When she woke up, Henry took a little nap.  I could handle one child at a time, especially one happy and well-rested child.  Evelyn and I made dinner together.

This evening, the day got much better.  It felt good to make a tasty meal for my family.  Evelyn did some art projects-- she is particularly interested in gluing right now.  I took care of two loads of laundry.  Henry and I played with the wooden activity cube, which- by the way- demonstrated how clever he is.  He realized that he could follow the green spiral wire all the way around the top of the cube and he motioned that he wanted to push the wooden beads along the spiral.  I helped him "walk" around to accomplish this task and he looked pleased. 

We finished the day at church.  Today is the feast of the Immaculate Conception; we don't ordinarily attend Mass on weekdays.  As it turned out, spending an hour at church was exactly what I needed.  Whether or not you are religious, there is something irreplaceable to be gained when standing in a room filled with people, each one reaching out to grasp the hand of a stranger.  I offered my hands, my desire and my need to step outside of myself and exist in a larger context-- one not defined by post-partum depression or stress or exhaustion.  And so, I found myself praying again, with Henry asleep on my chest and Evelyn bouncing around Chris' legs.  This time, though, it was a prayer of thanks.