Breastfeeding Is the Perfect Storm

I always imagined breastfeeding would be like how my friends and family described it: a great bonding experience with my baby. I could use those quiet moments to snuggle and and really enjoy my baby.  It serves me right for believing in such myths.

Miss A, my baby, is a wonderful nurser.  Unfortunately, breastfeeding is anything but relaxing.  It seems that her brother and sister interpret those few minutes I'm feeding her as the perfect time to act out.  Whether it's running outside naked, escaping to our neighbor's house, and/or throwing and breaking various sized glass cups, E and A use those 10 minutes well.

Perhaps if I could lock them in their rooms, I could get that peaceful bonding experience people talk about.  But I don't believe in locking my kids in their rooms so, instead, I watch as they systematically destroy the house while giggling profusely.  I believe they see breastfeeding for what it truly is - the one time that mom is basically immobile and can only repeatedly ask beg that they sit down and read a story.  In other words, the perfect time to implement their well-designed plans.

But to be perfectly honest, I'll probably breastfeed Miss A until she's 4; thus becoming one of those moms. Fair warning, y'all.

Morning Cocoa I

Welcome to the virtual coffee date. Pour yourself a cup of cocoa, iced tea, or whatever beverage you prefer and make yourself comfortable.

I'm listening to the birds sing their morning songs as I write this.  These pre-dawn minutes are precious in my book as they are often the only few uninterrupted moments I have during very busy days.

Last weekend was a wonderful blend of good food, good drinks, and great company.  The adults laughed as the kids provided endless hours of entertainment by dancing to the eternal Gangnam Psy, tumbing across the living room floor, and singing various songs.  We all enjoyed a walk down by the river and fully exhausted each child by bedtime.

This last week was an intense one.  Midterms, workshops, and hours of homework took up most of my time while mountains of clean and dirty laundry, dirty dishes, and other mundane household chores took up the rest.  Sometimes this busyness feels too much, like I'm stretched out as far as I can go, yet the alternative doesn't sound appealing either so I trudge through these really busy times and enjoy those weeks when things are busy but relatively quiet.

Yesterday was my birthday.  For those of you who follow and/or are friends with me on Facebook, you're quite aware of my sleep chronicles, or non-sleep chronicles as it were. So it was very apropos that my celebrations centered around sleep: I slept in, took a nap, and went to bed early while my sweet husband watched/entertained the kids for me.  It was blissful.  The rest of the day was spent enjoying my family, eating at a delicious Italian restaurant for lunch, and laughing as my kids and husband baked me a wonderful cake and sang Happy Birthday to me.  The most perfect birthday I've ever had.

How has your month been? Good? Bad? Busy? Any exciting news? I want to hear all about it.

Mourning With Boston

"Breaking news, there are reports of a possible bomb explosion at the Boston marathon. Details are still forthcoming."

"Mommy! Are we at the doctor's appointment yet?" Emily asked.

"Shhhhh.  I just heard something on the radio."

"But mommy!"

"I...."

"We have eyewitness confirmation that two bombs exploded at the Boston marathon....."

I listened to the reports over and over again, tears stinging my eyes as the horrific details came out of Boston.  I thought back to the heart wrenching interview I had listened to just that morning of the Newtown Strong Fund running for the Sandy Hook Elementary school victims and how the Boston marathon had dedicated mile 26 to the victims and their families.  Sobs erupted from my throat.

I didn't write anything after the Newtown shootings.  My words felt inadequate.  After this tragedy, my words still feel inadequate.  But I am mourning for those who were injured, for those who lost their lives, for the families of the victims, for the loss of innocence and I write because I don't know what else to do.

I don't understand why these events happen or what events precipitated for a person or organization to feel justified in committing such a repulsive act.  Yet, as I've listened to and read reports of how Bostonians have reached out to victims and displaced marathon racers,  or how Newtown residents have created organizations (like the Strong Fund) to remember and support the victims, I feel hope.  I believe President Obama said it best during his press conference this morning:

"We also know this — the American people refuse to be terrorized.  Because what the world saw yesterday in the aftermath of the explosions were stories of heroism and kindness, and generosity and love:  Exhausted runners who kept running to the nearest hospital to give blood, and those who stayed to tend to the wounded, some tearing off their own clothes to make tourniquets.  The first responders who ran into the chaos to save lives.  The men and women who are still treating the wounded at some of the best hospitals in the world, and the medical students who hurried to help, saying “When we heard, we all came in.”  The priests who opened their churches and ministered to the hurt and the fearful.  And the good people of Boston who opened their homes to the victims of this attack and those shaken by it.

So if you want to know who we are, what America is, how we respond to evil — that’s it.  Selflessly.  Compassionately.  Unafraid."

(Read more: http://swampland.time.com/2013/04/16/president-obamas-speech-on-boston-marathon-bombings-full-text/#ixzz2QeB2NYvb)

May we all mourn for the victims of this and other horrific acts of violence.

Morning Cocoa Revisited

Writing isn't easy lately. Parenting, homework, and other life things are getting in the way. Like so many of you, I'm sure, I just don't have the time to produce quality - or any - content.

Back on my old blog, I did a series of posts in which I invited you (the reader) over to my virtual house for a cup of tea (hot cocoa, Dr. Pepper, whatever beverage you prefer) and good conversation. I miss that. If I invited you, would you come over?  Just bring you and your beautiful words.  We'll make in a Monday tradition.

So, see you then?

Sleep Training, Losers Edition

Back when Sister E was a tiny infant and I felt the familiar first parent's fear of never sleeping again, I decided to check out all the excellent sleep training books my friends and family had recommended.  Their reviews often stated, "your child will sleep through the night forever!"  And I was like, yeah. I'm totally down.

The first rule? Focus everything in your schedule around your baby's sleep schedule.  Having one made that oh-so-easy.  Like a champ, Emily was sleeping through the night by 7 months. Bed at 7/8, wake up at 6/7, it was fantastic.  When Brother A was born, it barely ruffled her sleep feathers.  Since I had had such success, I immediately started him on the sleep routine.  By 6-7 months, he was mostly sleeping through the night. I was, clearly, a fantastic and superior mom.

But as any wiser parent knows, don't ever believe reviews that promise "forever" in their marketing campaign. As the wise Kip stated, "like anyone could even know that."

With my miscarriages, moving about 1500 miles away from our old friends and all our family, and everything else that happened in that 2 year period, the kids inevitably stopped sleeping through the night. In fact, they just stopped sleeping.  Too often, Mr. B and I would stare at each other on the couch as the kids ran circles around us, at 10 pm.  They would typically wake up 1-3 times a night and wake up at 5 am, ready to go. To top it off, they refused to sleep anywhere but our bed.  With a queen bed, our sleeping quarters were cramped.

So one day I called my mom sobbing, "Why don't my kids sleep? Ever?"  (One can tell I'm desperate when I use the word, "why.") She, the mother of 10, could give me advice that no book ever could - "you are doing awesome, Amber, just remember your parenting principles of lore and stick to them."

Ding, ding, ding, ding!

That past year my parenting style definitely took a major hit. Mr. B and I were parenting out of desperation in the middle of chaos. It doesn't exactly yield great results. I dusted off my old college textbooks on child development and guzzled down the pertinent information about each of my kids' stages. I threw out the guilt I had for, well, everything, and decided to provide incentives for my kids going to sleep.

This past week, things have changed drastically. The kids not only go to bed, they stay in their bed all night long, and wake up less frequently (only if they are thirsty and/or hurting in some way or another).

I'm sure the tempting offer of a treat has helped ensure their cooperation, but it stems from more than that. I threw out those books that made everything about the child's sleep and focused more on my children. That's made all the difference.

Winter: We're Done.

Winter. We've gotta talk.

Like any uninvited guest, I wondered when you would finally leave. Sure that first snow fall was exciting and nothing rivals the starry nights of a crisp evening, but a 12.5 inch dump of snow on the first day of my spring break?  That's just cruel.

We were expecting to do a lot of this,

but ended up shoveling snow all weekend long.  While I might have gotten a good workout, I'd rather stick to aerobics thankyouverymuch.

Today was beautiful. Are you repenting of your capricious ways?  The kids and I definitely needed the walk.

So the next time you're feeling moody, just think of these kids.

Do you really want to disappoint them?

Dear Grocery Store Women:

#1: Dear woman at the grocery store who looked at my baby's bare feet and snidely said, "where are her socks?"

Yesterday was a tough day. After having all three of my kids wake up multiple times the previous night and then greet me very happily at 6 am, I was exhausted and barely hanging on.  My life as a stay-at-home parent is fraught with constant fights, endless messes, and incessant self-doubt. I am my harshest critic, especially in parenting. Instead of offering harsh advice, wouldn't a little kindness go further? And how did you know that I had socks to put on my baby? (I didn't, by the way, they had mysteriously disappeared over the week.)

I realize that maybe you were having a hard day and felt the need to look at me and my kids with judgment to make yourself feel better.  That's fine. I have those days, too.  But something that I am keenly aware of is how much we all struggle in life.  That woman who is carrying a coat-less child around during a snow storm, how do I know that her daughter didn't throw a series of tantrums while her mom tried getting her coat on?  Or that they even own a coat?  I don't. Instead of looking at her through my limited lens, I try to give the benefit of doubt.

#2: Dear woman at the grocery store who looked at me as I was wrangling my three kids in the check-out line and said, "you are doing awesome, keep it up!" -

Thank you.  I hope I treat everyone I meet with as much kindness as you showed me that day.

*****

Two strangers who said vastly different things. While one led to a night full of parenting self-contempt with phrases like, "you worthless lump, how could you go out without putting socks on your baby's feet?" running through my head, the other led to a day in which I cried many tears of joy.  Finally, someone recognized how hard I work to keep calm while out with my kids.

It is my goal to be more like grocery store woman #2.  Rather than more parental judgment in this world, we need more support.

Which one are you?