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Sunday, July 12, 2015

To The One I Don't Worry About


We found out that we were having your little brother
just a few months after you turned one.
Your sparkling personality was just starting to emerge.
I worried about you;
your birthdays would be so close—
and near Christmas, to boot!
“There are worse things than a bad birthday,” I thought,
but I hoped that you two would at least have your own special days…

I worried about you
the middle child of three boys,
afraid that you’d be lost in the shuffle
as a toddler
as a schoolchild
as an adolescent
as a man.

But as we neared your 2nd birthday,
I didn’t worry as much about you…

You, so feisty,
who draws everyone in
with your glimmering blue eyes
and joyful grin.

You, so smart,
who soaks in stories when I read them to you,
and stares at me intently when I sing a new song to you,
saying “Again!”
each time I finish,
and silently, almost imperceptibly mouthing the lyrics with me
as you learn them.

You, so confident and self-assured,
who announces, “I’m HERE!!!” when we get to daycare,
who doesn’t look back when you run off to be with the big neighborhood kids
and who couldn’t care less about rules,
knowing that you can just smile
and practically make me feel happy for you
for getting away with whatever mischief you cooked up.

When your baby brother came,
you loved him and were happy to have him,
but after remarking about his cute little toes
and telling me that he needed milk,
you turned back to your trucks, unaffected.
You were never an only child
and you went to daycare at a young age;
you knew the drill.
Whenever anyone asked me how you were adjusting to the new baby
I flippantly waved my hand
and explained how fine you were with everything about life.
“I don’t worry about him,” I laughed.

But that fact—the fact that I didn’t worry about you—concerned me.
Would I always feel that way?
Even though I didn’t worry,
you certainly gave me cause to:
breaking rules,
charming yourself out of consequences,
pushing out into the world
more than you pushed into my arms.
Your cool, confident air
made you less demanding of my worried attention.

But then—you changed a little.
You started to protest more when we left you at daycare.
Your responses became less verbal
with nonsensical yells of “Baaaa!” or “NnnnnnnAAA!” or “MMM-mmm…”
You became your most challenging whenever I nursed your brother—
running away from me at the playground
or announcing that you were going to carry not one but two blankets
down the slippery wooden stairs,
knowing full well that I would not remain sitting in the rocker and watch such risky behavior.

You found your ways to let me know that you needed me, too.

So I let the baby fuss longer so I could finish a story with you.
I encouraged your father to relearn how to give a squirmy infant a bath
so I could say prayers with you and put you to bed.
I made your older brother hush for a moment so you could answer some of my questions, too.
I left the baby at home with Dad and a bottle so I could take you to church with me,
where I held you in my arms while you pointed at a stained glass window and yelled “There’s Jesus!”
I delighted in pointing out the different symbols to you
and sang the pleasant hymns in your ear,
just as I had for your brother when he was your age.

Little One—
always make me worry.
Stay close enough to me
and speak enough to me
so that I notice a difference
when you have trouble adjusting,
or can’t find the words to express your anxieties,
or are looking for a way to escape your problems,
or consider doing something risky to get attention.
I promise to notice, my Love.
I promise to notice any change,
subtle though it may be,
because you are my baby
my boy
my precious Christmas gift
and I promise to see when you need me.

Please make me worry, my darling child.
Always make me worry.


Saturday, June 20, 2015

How the Smart Phone Revolutionized Midnight Feedings

Long, long ago, before humans had smart phones, when a mom got up in the middle of the night to feed her hungry newborn, she sat there...

in the dark...

alone (except for the baby, of course). 

It was really exhausting.

Like, REALLY exhausting.

I speak from experience. I didn’t have a smart phone when I had my first baby. At the time, my friend with newborn twins told me about a baby sleep book she was reading. My biggest questions for her had nothing to do with sleep; they were a) How in the world do you have time to read? and b) How do you hold the book?! Her answers for both? She had a smart phone. 

You can bet that when I had my second baby, I made sure I had one of those suckers, too.

Here are some of the ways that the smart phone has made middle of the night feedings almost tolerable (for a little while, anyway…)

Alarm clocks
With my first baby, it got to the point that I barely got him latched on for a midnight feeding before I completely zonked out (not safe, I know, but I truly couldn't help it). I’d wake up 90 minutes later, cursing, and not knowing if I had ever switched sides, or how much he ate. He usually woke up hungry again 20 minutes later. After a few nights of that I gave up even trying to put him in the crib when I awoke and I just started nursing him all over again. Three hours after the initial wake-up I climbed back into my bed. It was the worst. Now, I do my best to stay awake long enough to set three alarms on my phone when I start: one to wake me after each side, and one called “Go to bed!” for after I hold him upright to keep his stupid reflux in check....



Baby Care Apps
I stressed sooo much in my first newborn’s early weeks using a paper and pen--in the dark--to log all his stupid feeding stuff. How many times did he nurse? How long? Which side? Did he pee? Poop? What color? Now, apps do the work for me. Thank you, Genius App Creator People.

Celebrity Gossip Sites
I’ve downloaded a couple of high-quality literary novels and I do read some parenting articles on my phone, but nothing keeps me awake better than my repertoire of People.com, USmagazine.com, and (when I’m really desperate) TMZ.com. At 1 a.m., my brain can’t process much more than those sites. The only thinking I need to do is to try to figure out which celebrities (if any) are ones that I've actually heard of...

Um... I only know Tom Brady and Bobby Flay here. Wait--Harry Potter, too!!

Email

Wanna know when you had time to type emails when you had a newborn before smart phones came along? Never.

Flashlight
No more tripping over swings and bouncey seats.

Google
Now you can use some of the time you’re just sitting there to find the answers to your most burning questions: Will my baby ever sleep? Will my baby ever go more than two hours without eating? How much do overnight nannies charge???
            
Nighttime Selfies
Is this a thing? I have no idea if this is a thing. As you can gather from the fact that I had a baby before I had a smart phone, I am old, and I don’t get the whole “selfie” thing. But according to People.com, USmagazine.com, and TMZ.com, a lot of people take selfies. So I’m throwing this in here as something else you younger moms might find fun.

Texting with Other Moms
The best part about having a smart phone is that it takes some of the isolation out of being up multiple times a night for weeks (months…) on end to feed your baby. This is what I used to think to myself when I’d be sitting there, alone, without a smart phone:

I'm so tired. I can’t stand this. I love my baby, and this was kind of exciting the first few nights, but now, I can’t stand it. And I can’t stand my husband. Because he’s sleeping. And snoring.

Now, this is the kind of text exchange that I can have with my sister at 4 a.m. because she has a newborn, too:



Nevertheless, at the end of the day night, it doesn’t matter how smart your phone is… It could be the defending Jeopardy champion, but sleep deprivation would eventually prevail. When you find yourself waking up 2 hours after you started nursing with a crick in your neck, three alarms going off, and this unfinished text to your sister...



...you know it’s time to start downloading some articles from OMGSleepThroughTheNightAlready.com. Until then, rest assured (ha ha... rest...) that middle of the night feedings are at least a little bit less torturous than they used to be.


Wednesday, June 10, 2015

The Familiar Evening Routine | Mamalode

Here's a little poem I wrote that Mamalode published today. If you're so inclined, take a look around the site--it's a nice one with stories, etc. about parenting, all written by parents (and some grandparents, aunts, uncles, etc.) 

The Familiar Evening Routine | Mamalode

Sunday, June 7, 2015

Living in Your Starter Home with a Baby Vs. Living in Your Starter Home with Three Kids


Everyone says that your years with little kids go by quickly. It’s true; before you know it, you can go from bringing your first baby home from the hospital to squeezing a third into the same house. Even though it’s the same structure, it’s a totally different place. I realized this the other day when we visited our friends and their one baby in their chic condo and thought, “We used to live like this.” We’ll probably always be in our starter home, which is just fine with us because we love it, but as we drove back that day to our 1,450 square feet of heaven, I couldn’t help but think of all the ways our home has changed in just a few short years.

Here are some differences between your starter home with one baby vs. your starter home with three little kids.

One Baby: Everything has its place.
Three Kids: The computer is in the kitchen, the pop-up fire truck tent is in the living room, the pack n’ play is in the hallway.

One Baby: When you want to open a cupboard door, you open it. When you want to lift the toilet seat cover, you lift it. When you want to get some toilet paper, just unroll.
Three Kids: Simple tasks now take 2.7 times longer to accomplish because everything is childproofed. The additional time gets deducted from your sleeping time. Combined with the fact that you now have three kids, you are down to sleeping an average of 43 minutes within a 24-hour period (52 minutes on weekends).

One Baby: Glass wine bottles rest on a funky rack mounted on the kitchen island, directly at a toddler’s eye level.
Three Kids: No bottles on display, for obvious reasons--if you buy a bottle of wine, it doesn’t hang around long enough to get put on a rack.

One Baby: Your dining room built-ins provide the perfect place to display your fragile wedding gifts.
Three Kids: Oh, that all got stored away a looooong time ago. You now understand why your mother unwrapped her china pieces like they were old friends when you cleaned out the attic during summer break from college. Currently, you have a large collection of pump and bottle parts on display where your porcelain cake stand used to be.

One Baby: You have a lovely wrought iron and glass-top coffee table.
Three Kids: Your coffee table is a train table. Sometimes you mix it up and switch in the dress-up clothes chest instead.

One Baby: If you need to use the bathroom, you walk through the door to the toilet.
Three Kids: Don’t waste anytime getting to your (one) bathroom because you’ll need to go through an obstacle course of step stools and potty seats before you make it to the toilet.

One Baby: You take uninterrupted showers in your (one) bathroom.
Three Kids: Bwahahahahaha.

One Baby: Cleaning is a chore to do while the baby naps, and/or it impedes on family time and “me-time” on the weekends.
Three Kids: You shoo your kids outside with Dad at 8:15 every Saturday morning so you can clean. Whatever it takes to get some time ALONE. On rainy days, you “accidentally” wax yourself into the far corner of your 9X7 kitchen and threaten everyone to within an inch of their lives if they walk on the wet floor. Then you turn to face the wall and drink your coffee in solitude while it dries.

One Baby: You put your baby’s soiled clothes in a personalized wicker hamper. You wash onesies, receiving blankets and such in separate loads so as to avoid contamination from other household dirt.
Three Kids: The laundry area is a total free-for-all. If you push through the mounds of clothes in various stages of laundering, you’ll manage to reach the washer and dryer. There is just too much of it to do separate loads, so spit-on sleep suits, applesauce-smeared t-shirts, grass-stained jeans, nursing bras and Dad’s underwear all go in together.

One Baby: Potential babysitters’ phone numbers are posted on the fridge.
Three Kids: No babysitters at the moment. You’re not convinced anyone else could handle this. To be honest, you’re not really sure how you do it yourselves.

One Baby: At the end of each “play session,” you tuck your baby’s toys away in the fabric-covered bins labeled “Toys” in the living room and his bedroom.
Three Kids: You wave the white flag as you reluctantly allow your five-year old to carry his plastic bucket of Legos into your bedroom which had, up until that point, remained the sole toy-free zone in the house. He will spend his “quiet time” in there. This is the sacrifice you make to keep him from waking nappers and disturbing you on the main level. Nobody needs quiet time more than Mom does.

Despite all this, it’s still kind of fun to live in your starter home after your family has expanded. There’s less square footage to clean, which is awesome, and a lot of times you can squeeze in some Facebook/email/blog-reading while the Hubs is outside with the kiddos during “housework” time. Your living room may be full of toys, but at least you can relax each night knowing that you don’t need to figure out how to pack for a move when a toddler would just find ways to unpack everything as you went. Best of all, you really can’t beat knowing that every day you, your husband, and your kids live surrounded by all the wonderful memories your family has created in the one place you all call home.

Sunday, May 24, 2015

Irrational Things I Wish of My Husband


Who’s that girl craning her neck out the front door, eyes eagerly searching for the first glimpse of Dad coming home from work? Oh, that’s me, his wife, nursing the baby. The toddler and the 5 year-old usually keep watch from the living room window. 

This scene often follows one of the sweetest sounds of my day: my husband’s train going by, indicating that he’ll be home soon. I count the seconds. The worst text I can receive in the evening after hours of being home alone with our kids is, “Missed the train. I’ll be on the next one.” I hang my head in despair and manage to reply a weak “OK.” When Friday night rolls around, I breathe a huge sigh of relief knowing that for two whole days someone else will be in the foxhole with me.

I know I sound desperate. By that time of day, I am, and you would be, too. With a toddler and/or baby constantly attached to me, there’s always so much more to do than I can physically manage. When my husband gets home I find myself wanting him to do everything else. I know that he just had a long day, too, and I know it’s irrational, but I want him to be my magician, because I don’t see how we can get all the cleaning, bathing, nursing, story-reading, and tucking-in done without magic. Unfortunately, my superpowers typically run out sometime after naps end.

My wishes become increasingly irrational when we need to accomplish a specific set of tasks in a finite amount of time. For example, Sunday morning our goal was to get the two older ones and me out of the house to church. I don't know how other families at church do it. Even in families with little kids, each member is clean, well-groomed and wearing matching, wrinkle-free, seasonally appropriate outfits with proper shoes, and they probably get there on time (but I really don't know for sure because we are always late). When my son and I go (Dad usually stays home with the little ones), it's a miracle if I've dried my hair, and I only have makeup on if I hit the red light on the way. Despite my best efforts to have my son wear either khakis or a collared shirt (I don't push for both; that's asking too much), he usually ends up wearing some mismatched combination of running pants, a tee shirt, and light-up sneakers.  He frequently has cream cheese on his face and toothpaste on his shirt. Nine times out of ten, he needs a haircut. And it takes everything my husband and I have in us to get the two of us there in that condition.

"Whoever wrote the song 'Easy like Sunday Morning' didn't take his kids to church on a regular basis." -Tim Hawkins

Such was the case last Sunday, but that morning we were under heightened pressure because the goal was for me to bring both older kids. As the clock ticked down, my mind spun with all the things that needed to get done before we could go, so I started making irrational wishes…

Here are some of the irrational things I often wish my husband could do:

1. Read my mind. Sometimes I don't even have the mental capacity to formulate the requests for things I want him to do for me. Too many words, too many kids, too little time. It would be so much easier if he had telepathy.

2. Brush my teeth so I can do something else. But even if he could brush my teeth, I suppose that wouldn't help me much because I would still need to be with my teeth at the bathroom sink instead of doing something else, somewhere else.

3. Do everything MY way. And I want him to just know what that means.

4. Pump my breast milk. Okay. There are some things I need to just do myself…

Despite my irrational wishes, I count my blessings because my husband is awesome and does a ton for us—even if it's not always done how I would do it. Though his laundry-folding techniques boggle my mind (picture t-shirts folded inside out…), I know that when I relinquish control of the laundry-folding, he folds it, and that means he gives me 10 minutes of my life back. If there’s anything parenting has taught me, it’s that it requires a team effort, so I am very grateful for all he does—even if it means I have to turn my son’s shirt right-side out before I can put it on!

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So what about you? Do you ever find yourself wishing your partner, or kids, could do things that are just impossible? Share your irrational wishes in the comments section.


Sunday, May 10, 2015

Clutter: Decoded


Walk into a house where little kids live and you’ll see clutter. Does that clutter signify laziness on the parents’ part? Of course not. If you learn to understand the Clutter Code, you’ll see the clutter for what it really is.

To illustrate the Clutter Code, here are 11 common examples of clutter in my house and the logical reasons behind them.

1. Random piles of children’s books in various hallways.
We’re promoting literacy.

2. Empty toilet paper rolls in the magazine basket in the bathroom.
Just waiting there for the day I decide to actually lead the boys through one of the
50 projects I have pinned on my “Toilet Paper Roll Crafts” Pinterest board.

3. Blue ice pack on the kitchen counter.
It’s not ours. It came home from preschool about 3 weeks ago and has been sitting there ever since so that my husband or I will “see it” and “bring it back.” The problem is that it poses no threat of physical harm to anyone. These days, if a piece of clutter has any hope of us dealing with it, it has to be dangerous.

4. Lego bricks placed on various bookshelves, on the mantle, on top of window frames, etc.
Those little suckers hurt when you step on them! And they’re choking hazards, too. But you can’t take the time to walk them back to the Lego bin when you’re chasing a toddler who just snatched your husband’s new eyeglasses off the desk. You’ve got to pick those Legos up and place them out of reach without breaking stride, or else you’re going to find yourself plunging out some spectacles from your toilet.

5. A Sharpie marker on the top shelf of the dining room hutch.
A lot of clutter in our house is high up. When confiscating something like a permanent marker, the only goal is to place it solidly out of reach.

6. Basting brush on the dining room table.
This one stands out to me when I see it because it’s not in the correct incorrect spot. It is supposed to be by the utensils drawer. That’s where we keep it so we can use it to pry open the awkwardly-placed safety latch that locks the drawer and prevents our toddler from removing and throwing life-threatening forks and butter knives. You need to pick your clutter battles: as the out-of-place basting brush posed no physical harm, I elected to ignore it and focus on sweeping up the peppercorns that the same toddler had dumped all over the dining room floor.

7. Stray peppercorns on the dining room floor.
I missed some.

8. Folded laundry on the love seat.
The laundry is washed and folded. What’s the issue?

9. Or, instead, empty laundry baskets but no laundry.
Those are there to remind me that I already put the laundry away. Go me!

10. Weird little blue rubber lizard thing on the stairs.
That’s my oldest son’s “special prize” that he earned at the doctor’s office when he rocked getting his shots. I don’t mind leaving that one out in the open. I hope that every time he sees it, he remembers how brave he was. I kind of like the reminder, too.

11. Random items that belong in the basement.
Waiting for the day that I go to the basement not carrying a laundry basket or a small child.

By now, you’re probably learning how to crack the Clutter Code. But to be honest, there’s a lot of clutter that I don’t really have a good excuse for. I have little desire to putter around putting stuff away at the end of the day when the kiddos are finally in bed and I have an opportunity to relax with my husband and recharge my batteries for the next day.

Or maybe I do have a good excuse, after all.

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What are the totally rational reasons for your clutter? Decode some of your clutter in the comments section.

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

A Letter To My Toddler Son

Dear Darling Toddler Son of Mine,

My Love, there are so many concepts that I wish I could convey to your little developing mind. How much I love you, how happy you make our family, etc. However, there are a few basic ideas that, for your best interests, and for mine, I really wish I could get you to understand. Like, immediately.

Repeating myself has not worked. I see other moms who seem to be able to communicate with their toddlers, trick them into doing what they want, etc. But you and I haven’t been meeting eye to eye too much lately, huh? I like to write… would that help? No, no, it won’t. Because you’re two. But, you know what? I feel crazy enough today to try, just to make myself feel better. So, humor me, and let me share with you some ideas that I really, really want you to just get. I swear, you’d be happier, too, if we were just on the same page.
  1. The baby will get sick if you snotstream and slobberspray all over him. You have had a constant stream of mucous coming out of your nose (which you insist on wiping away with your hands) as well as a chronic cough since October 1st. If you snotstream and spray your slobbery cough on your brother, he will get sick. Just like the 500 other times he’s gotten sick in his 3 months of life. Sick baby means stressed out mama. Is that fun? No. So please refrain from further snotstreaming and slobberspraying. Use tissues. Cough into your elbow. 
  2. I don’t know which “blue cup” you’re talking about. Please stop wailing, “BLUE CUUUUUP!!” I’ve given you all the blue cups that exist in the house. WHICH BLUE CUP?!?! 
  3. The baby needs to sleep. Please, please let me do the whole rocky/shushy/patty thing to get the baby to take a nap, and then we can PLAY! Haven’t you noticed that if the baby is wailing, Mommy is too distracted and we can’t PLAY? Stop hollering and please stop climbing on me, the baby (go get a tissue!), his crib, and-- COUGH INTO YOUR ELBOW!!! In a few months we’ll get our Ferber on in this house, but for now, if you would just give us enough peace to get the baby to sleep, I swear it will be worth your while. 
  4. I have significantly lowered my expectations for your consumption of fruits and vegetables. I am now asking that you eat exactly four peas. Four. And then I will be appeased enough to give you a massive cookie just like the one your big brother likes to conspicuously enjoy in front of you. EAT THE PEAS AND YOU GET THE COOKIE. It’s so easy. Do it!!
These are the ideas from today, my Love. I’m sure there will be more tomorrow. Will I do any better conveying them to you? Probably not. But I think I’ve gotten the whole, “I love you so much” thing across, right? And I know you love me too. I’ve got the snotstream all over my shirt to prove it.

With lots of love and hugs and kisses,
Mom

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What are some ideas you want your child to just get? Share them in the comments section.

Sunday, April 26, 2015

I'm on Scary Mommy! :)


Scary Mommy is a funny parenting website that I started reading frequently when nursing our newest baby. I submitted this article to them on a whim and I couldn't believe it when I received an email from the editor the next day saying that she was going to schedule it for publishing. The post has been shared 50,000 times on Facebook! It's been wild to see such a response.

My beginner's luck inspired me to write more and that's how this blog came to be.

Here's a link to the post that started it all. Enjoy :)



Saturday, April 25, 2015

Highly Effective Strategies for Ending, or Extending, Your Child's Nap


It would be nice to just let a baby figure out his or her sleep schedule, but we all know that's not always practical. Therefore, it is wise to familiarize yourself with strategies that will either end, or extend, your child’s nap when necessary. Moms usually discover their own successful methods fairly quickly, but for you newbies out there, here are some surefire techniques to get you started.

Strategies for Ending a Child's Nap:

  • Step into the shower. This strategy is especially effective when you first spend 10 minutes debating whether the baby would sleep long enough for you to complete said shower. You must be wet, and to be safe, lather up your hair nice and sudsy.
  • Make a nice hot cup of coffee. The aroma cues your cutie that it's wake-up time.
  • Get into your bed. Every new mom learns that the oft-quoted advice, “Sleep while the baby sleeps,” is really code for, "Let's get that baby up and at ‘em!" As soon as you get cozy in your bed, she will want out of hers. A word of caution: you may find that this strategy actually extends the nap if you suffer from momsomnia. Lying awake worrying about your kids, all the mistakes you’ve made, and/or what you need to do actually prolongs your child’s nap. If you find yourself in this situation, your best bet for ending the nap is to get up with the intent of doing something relaxing and/or productive. That should do the trick.
  • Start cooking something on the stove. You know, something that will burn if left unattended but not come out right if you stop the process midway. Risotto, anyone?
  • If you have more than one child, get them all asleep at the same time. As soon as you realize that you have a moment to yourself, someone will wake up. Easy peasy.
  • If all else fails, try thinking to yourself, “Wow, I’m surprised [insert child’s name] is asleep." Boom. Naptime is over.

Strategies for Extending a Child's Nap:

  • Watch as the clock ticks closer to the time you need to leave the house to go to an appointment, get the older kiddos from school, or go wherever you need to go when no one is around to babysit. In these circumstances children can be counted on to sleep as if there is nothing else in the world to do, and they will not transfer to their car seat without waking up. And screaming. And wanting to eat.
  • Read email and check Facebook. These activities feel just enough like wastes of time that the sleep gods will extend the nap long enough for you to feel suitably guilty for not making better use of that time. Be careful: as noted above, once you make an attempt to be productive, the nap will end.
  • During your kiddo's most inconsistent naptime, have somebody else watch him. He'll sleep.
  • This one requires a sacrifice, but if you are breastfeeding, you'll be able to extend a nap whenever you need to leave your babe and want her to wake up so that you don't have to deal with the hassle of pumping. She will snooze her way right through the whole process (but be forewarned that she will likely wake as soon as you squeeze out that last drop). Note: this strategy is usually even more successful when the pump parts require washing first.
  • If your child falls asleep in your arms and you want to do something else--anything else--he will continue to sleep and you won't have the heart to wake him, nor the courage to try to put him down in his crib. This is a particularly effective strategy if you are hoping to engage in any of the activities listed above as effective strategies for ending a nap. So what do you do in a circumstance like this? Forget the other stuff. Enjoy the moment. Those snuggles are heaven-sent and don't last forever, so soak them in while you can.
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What "works" for you? Share your no-fail methods of ending, or extending, your child's nap in the comments section.