Lessons from an Infertile Social Worker

A Billy Goat

2012-01-31T06:35:00.001-05:00

My baby E climbs. Every. Thing. The stairs. The couch. The DVD/bookcase. The kitchen chairs. His bed. The rocking chair. The high chair. Me. The baby gate. The kitchen table. The oven door. He climbs.

Also? My baby eats compost. Yes. That means exactly what you think it means. Baby E has eaten the scraps of food we set aside to throw outside into our compost pile (scraps that many of you would call "garbage"). While, of course, this isn't something we've served to him, still he's eaten it. More than once, she whispers. (hangs head in shame)

We can't keep him out of things. We can't keep him off of things. We can't keep things out of his mouth. You know, like out of cabinets. And off of the the kitchen table. And compost out of his mouth. He is simply into everything.

Now, I know kids go through a stage where this is the case, but, when I think back to how the kid was at this age...there is no comparison. The kid was never a climber, and he was fairly easily distracted. Baby E, however, is damn persistent. You may be able to distract him for a minute or even 5, but, by george, he will be back over there/up there/into that as soon as YOU forget about it. And then forty more times before he finally stops. And he only stops when he's good and ready to do so. You are simply an annoyance. Not a deterrent.

While in some ways I kind of admire his determination, mostly I find it exhausting. And, in truth, at times exceedingly frustrating. It's like I can hardly get anything done because I have to always be on the watch for what he's gotten into now. And then there are the times when I'm sure he is into/on something, but I weigh the risk with the benefit of having a few minutes to do ___________ (fill in the blank - mostly things like reading on my Kindle, or going to the bathroom, or putting away laundry). Usually I regret the few minutes, but I don't know what else to do.

I know these days are limited. I know it won't be like this forever. But it sure is tiresome.

But, then I catch him sitting on the kitchen table with a banana peel hanging out of his mouth, grinning from ear to ear, clearly incredibly proud of himself. And I can't help but giggle as I pull the peel out of his mouth and take him over the sink to clean the goo off of his face and hands. I move the chairs away from the table and my kitchen looks ridiculous with them scattered all about. But it's the only way I can get a few minutes of peace. And, besides, he seems to find the challenge of how to get back up on the table enjoyable. It will at least give me 30 minutes to read another chapter of a new book.

My little billy goat. He makes life never boring.

Today's lesson: Parenting comes with unique challenges. And unexpected joys as well. Who'd have thought seeing your baby eat garbage would be the highlight of your day?

The Crud

2012-01-29T18:46:00.001-05:00

We've been fighting the crud - me and both boys - for 3 months now. We seem to keep passing it around. And around. And around. This is now the 4th round. Just call us Momma Snot and her two little Buggers. It's congestion, and headaches and just feeling crummy. It's super fun.

And, really, that's about all that's been goin' on around here. Nothing else too exciting. Really. Nothing else. Unless you count how much I adore my new Kindle. It's just the basic one (that's what I asked for), but I love, LOVE it. And this coming from the girl who said she'd never forsake real books. Count me in as a convert.

Oh yeah. I've started my new job as a social worker at a hospital emergency department. That's been interesting. It's going to be a bit of a change for us as a family as we adjust to what will be (in a week or two) my new work schedule (2-8hour days and 2-12 hour days, along with every 3rd Saturday). I like the job thus far, though that schedule does have both hubby and I a bit nervous.

The kid continues to do much better with Mrs M and I am so very happy with our decision to switch him.

Baby E...sigh. That child. He is such a daredevil. Scares me, he does. I feel like we spend a majority of our time at home getting him out of things. Or off of things. Or taking things out of his mouth. I mean, I know you do that with all kids. But this one. Wowziers. Compared to the kid (who can be a bit of a handful on his own), baby E is quite the little tornado. That smile he constantly has on, though, it makes it worth it.

So, yeah, that's about all here. At least for now. I know this was a terribly exciting post. You're welcome. I'll try to be more riveting next time. (Really, I will!)

Today's lesson: Toddlers are notorious for being picky eaters. However, this apparently does not extend to things they aren't supposed to put in their mouths. Like paper. Or compost.

Momma the druggist

2012-01-25T20:54:00.000-05:00

Last week I took baby E to his 15 month well child. He's perfect by the way, still skinny, with an enormous head (big heads are good in babies after all because big head = big brain) but absolutely perfect. Except for that whole not sleeping thing. (big, huge, sigh) But, for the very first time, the pediatrician was able to offer a possibility of something to help. Her suggestion? Melatonin. 1mg about a half hour before bed, crushed up. Our decision? What the hell, it's worth a try.

I must admit I feel a little uncomfortable with giving him the Melatonin. I mean, I fall into the whole, "no antibiotics unless absolutely necessary/a fever doesn't necessitate Tylenol/delayed vaccination" camp. So, to give my babe a pill (albeit it crushed up in applesauce) every night, makes me a feel a bit ugh-ish. The boys' pediatrician was a bit flippant about it all, throwing out a dosage that she just guessed on. However, as you well know, we're a big desperate for sleep around here and, short of a hot toddy, we're willing to give about anything a shot so to speak.

Hubby and I - desperate beyond belief to get some freaking sleep - jumped on it. The 1st night we crushed up a 3mg pill, giving him approximately 1mg mixed in applesauce. Imagine my surprise, when little E was asleep in my arms before I even finished the bedtime routine. And then slept 6hours straight. Followed by a brief waking, and then another several hours of sleeping. The 2nd night, he again went to sleep super easy. He was pretty restless, but didn't necessitate parental intervention. I mean, I was still awake several times, but at least I didn't have to get up. The 3rd night, he was up twice, but 1 of those was because of a leaking diaper, so I still count that as a success.

Tonight is the 4th night, and we are back to him taking forever to get to sleep. Not sure what's up with that...maybe we didn't give it to him early enough? No idea. He's in there screaming "night-night. Night-night!!!". But I've got my fingers crossed for a decent night. Please, whoever-is-the-patron-saint-of-babies-and-sleep, make this baby sleep tonight! [Update: After about 45minutes, he's out. This is still a huge improvement!]

But, I continue to worry a bit about whether it is safe, appropriate dosage, long-term effects, etc... So, when trolling facebook the other night, I was reminded that one FB friend from high school is now a pharmacist. I decided on a whim to send him a message and ask him his opinion. (Side note: it's so funny/odd to be faced with someone you knew that long ago as just your kid brother's friend, but he's now this super smart professional. Cool, but weird.) Well, awesome person that he is, he called and gave me all the info he could dig up. He asked about E's medical history, current symptoms, and a myriad of other clinically relevant questions. He shared his concerns, the primarily one being that he could find no information regarding what might be an appropriate dosage for baby E based on his age and weight. He was professional, informative, empathetic, and so very kind.

He's going to continue to see what he can come up with for appropriate dosage. He suggested getting a compounding pharmacy to make up the right dosage (once we figure out what it is - probably .5mg) so we know for sure. He recommended absolutely not using it if there is any child-specific or biological family history of seizures or liver problems. Certainly baby E hasn't had issues with either of these and the medical histories we have from his birth families doesn't indicate a history there either. The last thing he recommended was using a specific company for the supplement, as herbals aren't regulated by the FDA but this company sends their products to a 3rd party for verification. Because I'm thorough (Read: slightly OCD), we also spoke with hubby's aunt who is also a pharmacist and she's looking for some info for us as well.

Based on all that, the decision we've came to is to continue with the melatonin, for now. It seems to be working for E. He's sleeping - much - longer (for him) and the little circles under his eyes have started to go away. My circles are still there, but I have faith that a few more days of 6+hours of sleep will help those start to resolve as well.

Today's lesson: Some time you do things you never thought you would. I mean, we delay vaccinations and hesitate to even give our kids Tylenol. Giving them a pill to make them sleep is not something I ever thought I'd do. And yet, here we are. You do whatcha gotta do. And that's okay.

Carpe Kairos

2012-01-23T06:10:00.000-05:00

You may have tried to read this post a couple of days ago and when you clicked over it was gone, you have my baby E to thank. He somehow managed to publish the post in the 45 seconds I walked away from the computer. I'm in trouble with that one, I tell ya. Anywho, here it is now, for reals.

Have you read this article? If you're a parent or hope to be one some day, you should. Actually, even if you're not a parent, or don't plan to be one, yo should still read it. Really - since I hate the word "should" and all - you need to.
So, if you're not going to click on over there and read the original article, here's the short version. The author hates when people (often well-meaning older people whose kiddos are probably old enough to have kids of their own) tell her to "treasure these moments because they're gone way too fast" or that they "loved every single moment of parenting/when their children were young". Because, the author asserts, that's crap. All moments in parenting are not glorious. Some of them suck big ones.

And I'm gonna have to have her back on this one. Take my Friday night for instance. I put baby E down at 7:30. It was 9:30 before he went to sleep. Then he was back up at 11:45. This eventually necessitated me rocking him to sleep. I finally crawled back into bed at 1:15. He slept til 4. Then was back up at 4:45. And 5:30. And then 7:30 for good. Hubby was out of town at a meeting so it was all me. Tell me, who is going to enjoy that crap? I mean, do I love him? Of course. But was that something to be appreciated and treasured? Not. So. Much.

Funny enough, I feel guilty about all the cussing that was going on in my head that night. It's that infertility thing. You know, I asked (more accurately begged) for the gift of parenting, and all that came along with it. I spent nights pleading with god to just give me a baby and I'd love every single moment. The puking, the diapers, the sleepless nights. Through all of it I would be happy and loving and calm and patient and...and...and...

And yet, I don't enjoy all of it. I am grateful for being a parent, but those moments...those moments, well, they kinda, sorta, for real suck. I'm pretty sure God was laughing at me through all those tears. You know, in a loving kind of way. God knew there would be times when I hated parenting. Times when I would be pissed off to be covered in baby vomit. And not want to read "Goodnight Moon" for the 13th time that day. And hide the play dough because I don't want to have to clean it up again. When I would think, to paraphrase Samuel L. Jackson, "Go the F to sleep!". Or "You are not that cute" in the midst of changing today's 3rd disgustingly explosive diaper. Or come in to find the playroom rug and walls covered in bright red and purple finger paint.

And that, my friends, is okay. Because nothing in life is all good or all bad. I mean, I adore chocolate, but too much of that and I have heartburn for days. And if one of my kids gets it on their clothes, it's a pain to get that stain out. Parenting is like that. Wonderfully delicious at times. A miserable pain at others. I know these well-meaning people had those painfully crappy moments, too, so why don't they remember them? Didn't they, too, get inundated with people telling them to treasure every little moment and feel like a failure at times for not loving every minute? Do they feel the need to - for some reason - pass along the errant belief to unsuspecting parents that everyone else loves every minute of parenting?

But all those things do is make the rest of us also feel crappy about the moments - the very normal and universal moments - when crappy things are happening. I think that when we ignore or try to hide the bad parts of parenting, all we do is set each other up for more feelings of guilt and inadequacy. It makes us all feel more alone, more isolated, more ashamed.

I would suggest that what we should instead do, is walk up to the mom whose 2 year old is throwing a very public tantrum and remind her that it won't last forever, and that we've been there, too, or at a minimum smile at her. Or remind the mother of the middle schooler that we, too, every day have moments of wanting to both hug and kill our children. Or tell that new mom that we, too, had that moment (perhaps nightly) where we truly "got it" as to why people shake their babies.

And I know that that some of you are still waiting for your child, you're still at that place where I was, bargining with God to be happy with every single moment, poopy diapers, screaming fits and all, if only you could have your baby. And I'm not negating that place where you are. I've been there, too, so many times.

But this article (which I don't think was written by someone facing infertility) still stands true in my book. Even when all you want in the world is to be a parent, it won't be perfect. You will hate moments. You will think "what the eff was I thinking?". There will still be moments when you're pissed off at your kid, exhausted beyond what you thought possible, painfully embarassed at your 4 year old's tantrum at Target, and wanting nothing more than a day to yourself.

And that is okay.

Today's lesson: Carpe Kairos, y'all. Living in God's time allows us to treasure the small moments, without feeling the pressure to treasure all the moments. You don't have to love the screaming and poopy diapers as long as you can find the moments that really make you happy. Like those giggles, and kisses, and "you're the best momma in the world" moments. Those are the important ones.

A Smiley School Meeting

2012-01-21T06:57:00.003-05:00

Thursday afternoon I met with Mrs M and the counselor. We'd discussed meeting a few weeks ago in order to determine if we wanted to continue with the 504 plan, and just to see how the kid's adjusting in Mrs M's room. Y'all, seriously, the meeting was great. And very interesting.

So we started off with Mrs M just giving me an overview of how she structures her classroom. It's so much more free-flowing and Montessori-ish. Be still my momma-heart. Then she told me about the movement breaks she has worked into the schedule (for the kids and herself). And that in "centers" there are always choices. Like the kids get to choose what they're going to do from 2-4 different activities (novel concept, eh?).

And then she broke out the sheet. You know, the one that Mrs L used. But, instead of describing everything as an "area of concern", everything was "accomplished", with the exception of 3 areas that all involve him not being able to wait to be called on to speak out (and - for real - no big shocker there). And these were classified as "progressing plus" because, according to Mrs M, he's shown drastic improvement with this already since he started in her room, without intervention. This was about the point I exhaled in relief the enormous breath I had apparently been holding.

She went on to say lovely things about the kid. "She likes him! She likes him!!!!!!". That's about all I was hearing. So I hope there wasn't anything really important in there. 'Cause if there was I totally missed it.

Overall, it was such a relief to hear all these things. And a confirmation of the decision we (uh, I) made to switch his classroom. I must admit the validation was nice. But, mostly, I'm just happy that my kid is happier and that he's being treated kindly. And that the other major woman in his life also likes him. Shew.

Today's lesson: Save your blog post before you walk away from it . Otherwise your children may decide to pull your laptop off the ottoman, type their own crap on it, delete half your (unsaved) blog post, change completely your Internet settings, and send an email to who the hell knows who on your work email. You know, of the job you just started last week. Such things are apparently possible in less than 3 minutes. Even though it takes your 10x that long to undo all of it. Or you could just put your laptop where they can't access it. In hindsight, this may be the most helpful lesson the day.

A Book

2012-01-19T05:36:00.003-05:00

One of my most read posts is this one, about the brave family who chose to give baby E the milk pumped for their sweet baby boy...a tiny soul who passed away just one short month after he was born. At the time I wrote it, I knew nearly nothing about this family. I particularly didn't know what had happened to their son, how he had died. I was torn about using the milk. Saddened that the milk that momma had so lovingly pumped for her own babe was being used to make mine healthy and strong. Heartbroken for the family who would not see their son grow to be a man. Guilty that I had severed one more tie they had to him. Just so sad at the loss of this tiny person.

I wrote my post, eventually used all the milk, and continued to think of that special family. Then, one day several months ago, I opened an unexpected email. From the father of that baby boy. He thanked me for my post. He said they were in the process of writing a book about their dear son. He asked if they could include my blog post in the book. I was floored. I mean, what could I have said that was in any way important compared with what they had to say about their experience, and their son's. But of course I said "yes". How could I not? He thanked me and offered to send me a copy once they were done.

I didn't really think anything else of it. I mean, I continued to think about them, but I didn't think about the blog post or book.

Until a couple of weeks ago. When I received in the mail a most beautiful and heart-wrenching book. Giving witness to their sweet little boy and his short life. Oh, the beauty in this family is even more than I knew. They are truly amazing. One thing they wrote, was they hope that in the giving of the milk, baby E would know God. And I can say, without a doubt, that he will. I mean, he would have anyway, but this gift was such a tangible and extraordinary example of God's love. And of the beauty of the human spirit. Such beauty, such love, could only come from one source. And so, while this milk does not introduce my child and our family to God's love, it does remind us in an immensely unique way.

They have a website, A Song of Suffering, to which I'd like to direct you, if you're interested in knowing more about them. They're a family who suffered a horrible, tragic, unimaginable thing. They survived. Their faith sustained them. They sustained each other. They have changed me. And so I thank them yet again. Because I can never thank them enough.

Today's lesson: We never know how our lives will intersect with others. We never know how our words may affect others. We never know what role our words may have in the lives of others. Sometimes I am reminded that it behooves us all to chose our words so carefully.

Sweet Mrs M

2012-01-13T06:39:00.002-05:00

Nearly two weeks in with the new teacher and things are going so well. I felt the need to clarify this after my post the other day. Please know, she's awesome and, if we must live under the auspices of public school (which for right now we must), we couldn't ask for a more fabulous teacher. She is responsive to our emails (always within less than an hour - shocking, right?!). She seems to really like the kid. She wants to meet with us so she can get to know him better and share info about what she's observing (holistically, not just academically) in the classroom. She isn't putting him in time out. She's even letting him get in the treasure box because he's having days that good. These things are all amazing to me. Which is kinda sad, if you think about. Which I'm trying not to do.

The best, part, though, is that the kid is coming home and he is able to tell me at least one, but often more, great/fun/happy thing(s) that happened that day. At first those things were still of the "I didn't get in trouble today" variety. But even those were different, in his delivery at least. They weren't said in this beaten down, sad tone. They were with this lit up face, as if he was amazed that such days were even possible. But now, he says honest to goodness positive things - about his day, about the other kids, about Mrs. M herself. It's wonderful.

Funny enough, he still mentions MG1 (mean girl 1). I think it really bothers him that she doesn't like him. We're gonna need to have a convo soon about bullies and how it's about them, not you. But we'll get there soon enough.

A friend, who's child previously had Mrs. M raves about her. She said Mrs. M is early childhood trained, and that is so very obvious. She - really - is fantastic and I am so grateful that we made this switch.

That said, the kid has been an honest to goodness MESS the past two weeks. I mean OHHHHH. MMMMMM. GGEEEEE. He is driving me up a wall. All the walls. The attitude and disrespect coming out of his mouth is not my child. "So, what? Who cares what you think about that?!". "So?! What are you going to do about it anyway?!" "Just put me back in my normal life already, will you woman?!" I mean, what?! I'm not sure where my sweet boy went, but I'm gonna need him back. And sooner rather than later. You know, before I kill him. I jest. (Sort of...)

In truth, I think he's just adjusting to this new big change. He doesn't really completely understand the reason for the change. And he's not sleeping well of late (had a cold, asthma started acting up, ran out of meds --> not sleeping well at night and waking early in the morning). So all of those have left me with a mess of a kid. Even though Mrs. M is perfectly lovely, and a total keeper.

Today's lesson - The "fix" doesn't undo the damage caused by the problem. The damage doesn't just go away. It still has to be addressed and allowed to heal. Which means you should try not to make it worse. You know, by like telling him that he'd better care what you think because you're the momma . So there". That's probably not a good choice. You know, to help in the healing and all.

This One Time...

2012-01-11T06:38:00.003-05:00

A post from another blogger (CallMeMama) reminded me of a similar experience I had when the kid was a newborn. And I felt compelled to share it with you.

I was in my 2nd semester of grad school to get a Masters of Social Work when the kid was born. (Side Note: Yes, working full time, going to grad school almost full time, and parenting a newborn does suck. Big time.) I skipped my classes the first week he was born because, well, I mean, wouldn't you? And my professors were wonderfully understanding. One actually went so far as to order me to not come in. I adore her to this day for that.

When the kid was about 10 days old, though, I went to class. I, as I think most new parents would do, took in a few pics of my darling babe. At the beginning of class I passed them around and shared some basic info. I mean, we'd been in class together for only a few weeks and though none of us knew each other well, they did know me well enough to know that I hadn't been pregnant 2 weeks prior. So, I told them that we were adopting him and thrilled beyond words to have been chosen by his birth parents to be the parents who would raise him.

Most everyone oo-ed and awe-ed over my baby kid (as they should have because, I mean, he was freaking adorable). One girl, however, kind of freaked out, wanting to know why we had a black baby. She, too, was black and didn't think we, as white parents, should have this baby. I explained that we didn’t decide to parent a “black baby” (her words). We wanted to be parents and were open to whatever child came to us/was meant to be part of our family. We were chosen by the kid's birth parents and the difference in our races didn't bother them. I said that it was their decision, not hers. And if she had a problem with it, then I recommend she look into adoption herself. The rest of the graduate level social work class nodded their heads in agreement and we went on.

Fortunately, that was nearly 6 years ago and it’s been the only experience of that kind that we’ve had. However, it’s hard to feel like you have to “justify” your family. And what I know now, is that I don't actually have to justify my family to anyone. But I didn't know that then. Now, I decide when presented with situations whether I will let things be, or whether I will take the opportunity to educate people about adoption in general or transracial adoption specifically. I used to just babble on and on about it. Now I tend to be much more judicious about what I say. I used to probably tell a lot of my son's story. Now I realize that his story is his own. And that means that he gets to chose what to tell others. Not me.

On the flip side, I feel like it's so very important how I respond to adoption related comments and questions. Because he's there, always listening. And how I respond to questions - whether I'm uncomfortable, or how much I chose to share, or whether I am respectful - affects how he thinks about adoption (his own, his brother's, and in general). It also affects how/what he thinks about himself. I have to be so much more intentional in the words I choose to say, and with those choose to share with others. Because he has big ears.

So, when I think about the incident that happened almost 6 years ago, I wonder how I would respond to such a thing now. I think I'd probably say about the same thing, if he weren't there. I don't know how I'd react and what I'd say if he was. I think I'd better figure it out. Because I suspect that it's just a matter of time before it happens. And I need to have my ducks in a row, so that I project confidence. So that he knows we can talk about adoption, that it is a safe topic. And that he only has to share the information he wants to share.

I have a post brewing in my head about the reasons why I think this woman had such a strong reaction. I think it's multi-faceted with cultural and historical components. Will let ya know when I get that cranked out.

Today's lesson: I'll leave you with the words of that adorable kid. The sweetness of the apples is only topped by the sweetness of the love my brother gives me in his kisses. Sometimes the heart nearly bursts from the amount of love in it. This, is a most wonderful feeling.

Heart Outside of Your Body

2012-01-09T06:00:00.000-05:00

I don't even know what to do with a kid who is old enough to lose teeth (as in he's lost more than one now!). I mean, surely that means he is GROWING UP. Like, a big kid. Not my little boy anymore. I don't know how to handle that.

I frequently think about that quotation that goes something like "having children is like having your heart walk around outside of your body" (I'm sure one of you knows how that actually goes, and even who said it; I'm much too tired to even care to google it). I am not immune to my kid's flaws, but in truth he is really a sweet, empathetic little being, and he gets his feelings hurt easily. It's one of the reasons I have worried so about him going to public school. At his Montessori school, they were just as worried about kids' feelings and emotional well being as their academic achievement. And, as a social worker, a therapist, a momma, I am all about that.

However, public school simply isn't set up to work that way. It's a much more cut throat kind of environment. Kids are taught to suck it up and focus on the damn test. They're expected to sit and attend for what I feel are long - and frankly age inappropriate - periods of time. The expectation is that they will engage in adult-directed activities for the vast majority of the day. They are allowed to make very few decisions about what they will be doing.

And, as I've been recently reminded by an old friend, that just isn't the way we parent; those aren't the expectations our child has grown up with to this point. We haven't trained him to sit for long periods of time by providing him with the opportunity to watch television shows (he didn't get to watch TV til after he was 3. I mean at all). He doesn't sit in front of a computer playing games. We allow him to choose what he is going to do/play at any given time. We engage in play with him when he requests it, following his lead, not forcing our own agenda. We gently suggest activities, but ultimately it's up to him. We talk about feelings. A lot. It is as important to us that he learn to be a compassionate person as anything else.

Is it any wonder public school has been a challenge for him thus far?

And yet, him growing up means that I am no longer in control over his days. The public school system doesn't care that my goal as a parent is to raise a compassionate, caring human being. They care that he can read. And count by 5's to 50. And the way it's set up to do that is by teaching all children in the same way. Which means sitting still. A lot. And we're just - ALL - going to have to get used to it.

Or find a new school. Which we're not ruling out.

Today's lesson: Childcare has been, and continues to be, one of the most difficult parts of parenting. To trust someone else to care for you child is scary. Because the chances of them doing it just like you want or would is nil. So, your heart walks around outside of your body. And you have no control over how it is treated or cared for. Hard.

Oh, Domperidone...

2012-01-07T06:02:00.000-05:00

So, I took my last Domperidone. I've been titrating down the dosage for a month or so. I noticed I was getting low and had to decide whether or not to order more. At about $50-60/month, we'd spent a lot of money on the medication. I mean, it's been, geez... probably 2.5 years that I've been taking it.

Also, I never saw what I'd consider a significant result. I mean, I don't really know how much milk I was able to produce, but I'd be willing to go out on a limb and say it was certainly less than an ounce per feeding (maybe up to that much when he was little, before I went back to work). It just seems like a waste to be spending the money for so little, uh, output.

I also stopped pumping a few months back. Because of my hectic and unpredictable work schedule, I just never knew when I'd have time to pump. Or where I'd be when I had the time (Kroger parking lot anyone? Random church parking lot? Not ideal locations). One time, I was sitting there pumping (with a hand pump because I don't have a car adapter for the electric one) and someone pulled up and parked right next to me. Super uncomfortable. And, again, the output was so tiny (less than 5ML always), that the effort just didn't seem worth it. So I gave myself permission to just stop.

But here's the thing, I feel guilty about stopping the medication (and pumping, too). Here's the main reason - we're continuing to give baby E donated breastmilk (hopefully til he's at least 18 months - so another 3 months). So, all those mommas are still doing their part (the endless pumping). And, yes, I realize that they're also feeding their babies, but if they weren't committed, or at least willing, to also in part feed mine, they wouldn't have to pump as much or as often.

So now I'm feeling like I've shirked my responsibility. I'm not putting in the extra effort that they are. To feed my baby. It's already one of those things I "should" be able to do on my own. One of those things that I so wanted, want, to do on my own. I already rely on others to do it. And while of course I appreciate them beyond measure, I still carry that guilt, that feeling of pissed-off-ed-ness at my body for not doing what it "should" have be able to do.

I keep telling myself that it's okay. That baby E has a full belly. That he's happy. And that's what's important. But that nagging voice telling me I'm a failure just won't go away.

Damn the mommy guilt. Damn the infertility. Neither of them ever seems to go away. Neither of their effects ever seem to lessen.

Today's lesson: It's interesting how pervasive guilt can be. How it can show up in places both expected and unexpected. It's also funny how some lessons show up over and over in your life. They seem to keep showing up until you really and truly learn them. Note to self: Learn the damn lesson already.

Head Injuries

2012-01-05T06:37:00.000-05:00

Here's a running list of the head injuries baby E has sustained in the last couple of days:

Getting head stuck in between banister railings. Necessitated a little finagling to get him out. He screamed for about 3 minutes afterwards. Because he was mad. And then he stuck his head right back in there. Whole process repeated. Including the part where he stuck his head back between the railings. For the third time in less than 10 minutes.
Me, dropping him. On his head. He was squirming to get down. He was less than a foot off the ground. Man, he was ticked at me. And so torn because he also wanted me to comfort him. I only laughed on the inside. And, of course, because he was okay.
Me, colliding heads with him after he stood up, finally consoled about the whole dropping thing. That set him off, pissed at me again.
The kid running into him, knocking him to the floor. He bit his lip. There was blood (ew). And lots of pitiful crying. For about 5 minutes, then he was trying to console the kid, who was really upset that he'd hurt his little brother. That was pretty cute.
Falling down half a flight of very hard stairs. There were LOTS of tears, many of them mine. He seems no worse for the wear. My Grandmother said, "My, isn't it great that they have such bounce in them". I think that means she was glad he was okay. I think.

Today's lesson: It will be a miracle if this baby gets through the next year - heck, the next month - without a trip to the ER for something head related.

The New Teacher

2012-01-03T06:03:00.005-05:00

I'd write an ode to Mrs M, if only I remembered how to do such a thing. Or a haiku, which I seem to remember was easier. But I can't actually remember the rules for those either. But, suffice to say, we're loving Mrs M so far! Hubby sent an email to her early in the day just to introduce himself and check in. Imagine our surprise when she replied. Like immediately (And by immediately I mean within the same hour because that's never happened before). And she had lovely things to say. Like that she was also an active and social person, so she thought they'd get along well. And that he was lovely. And she was thrilled to have him in her class. Picture one big grin from this momma.

The, out of the blue, I got a very kind email from Mrs M at the end of the day. She said he'd had a good day and reiterated that she was glad to have him and felt he would do well in her class. I could kiss this woman. I wanted to tell her that but fortunately I restrained myself and instead just thanked her. Perhaps profusely.

The kid came come smiling and said honest to goodness GOOD things about his day. I mean, GOOD THINGS!! As in more than one good thing. Sure, he was still able to come up with something sad (a girl was poking at him), but the fact that he could give me anything good is a good step in the right direction. This is one happy momma.

Today's lesson: Head injuries are common in toddlers. See the next post for more on that.

Oh, you missed me?

2012-01-02T09:53:00.000-05:00

I have certainly been the absent blogger of late. I have a good reason. Well, a few. First it was the the holidays. Second, things have been super busy (see first). Third, well, I just really haven't had much to say. I mean, I've been busy (refer back to 2nd reason), but there's not really been anything in particular that I've wanted to write. Or, I suppose there have been things (like when my baby fell down the very hard stairs at my grandmother's house, or the awesome man-cave hubby and I made for the kid for Christmas, or how awfully baby E slept while we were traveling, then slept through the night last night - unpredictable little creature), but no time to formulate a full post about any one of them in particular. (And you're welcome for all the vagueness in all that.) Maybe I'll come back at some point and fill in some of the holiday breaks. Maybe not. I have a feeling many of us are just ready to move on from the holidays. I am at least. We'll see...

Anywho, here's the deal-io with today. What, you don't remember why today is important in our little household? I can't imagine why. Well, I'm willing to remind you. Today the kid starts in his new class at school. We're finally done with Mrs L. Now, Mr P (the principal) was supposed to call the week of Christmas with the name of the kid's new teacher. He didn't. Really, this didn't bother me because I hope he was spending the time with his kids and family instead of worrying about mind - I have no doubt he was. But, come yesterday evening and we didn't didn't know anything I was getting a little concerned. Finally. about 7 he called and told us the kid's new teacher will be Mrs M.

I don't know anything about her other than that the kid who lives behind us is in her class. Really, that's all I know. But it's got to be better. So, we're going with it. I walked him in this morning and met Mrs M in the office. She took the kid to the room and I briefly checked in with Mr P. Then I headed down to the room. Mrs M was showing him around. He had a huge grin on his face, though I know he was nervous. She just is what I picture when I think about a Kindergarten teacher. Kind eyes. Welcoming demeanor. General warmness. Friendly and slightly humorous smile.

Dear Lord, I hope this is a good fit. We need this woman to like our kid. To get our kid. To undo the damage Mrs L has done. To remind him that he loves school. And, poor woman, 'cause that is lots of pressure to put on one person. Thankfully, I haven't told her all this.

So, here's to holidays being over and the kid having a great day with a (sweetbabyjesuspleaseletherbeawesome) new teacher.

Today's lesson: Probably your baby who doesn't like to sleep at home won't just decide that he'd love to sleep when you're visiting with family.

This morning

2011-12-24T14:12:00.000-05:00

I was awoken by a 5 year old telling me he needed to pee at 5:30am. Just as I got back to sleep, the baby woke up, fussing in his room. I stuck the paci back in his mouth and patted his butt for a few minutes. That didn't work. So, I threw him (not quite literally) in bed with hubby and I. Again, just as I was almost asleep, the 5yo came back, “uh, momma, I’m pretty sure it’s time to wake up now. Right?”. A quick look at the clock, confirmed that it was not even close to time to get up (hello 6am). I growled at him to get back in his room. Tried to get back to sleep -again. Awoken by baby smacking me in the face. But then he smiled, nuzzled his head under my chin, sighed with contentment, kissed my cheek and said, “wub ewe”. Then the 5 year old came barreling back into the room, hurdling himself onto the bed. Screaming, "good morning, Momma!!!!!!!!!!".

So I sighed and got up.

It’s was 645.

I wouldn't change it. Except maybe the time. A couple hours later would have been fabulous. But, still. I'll take it.

Happy Christmas Eve, friends!

Today's lesson: Kids don't care that parents have the opportunity to sleep in. They just don't. Deal.

Oh, there's that Christmas Spirit

2011-12-23T21:50:00.000-05:00

So I've finally found a bit of Christmas spirit. And it's all thanks to two of my dearest friends.

JE actually likes wrapping presents. No, idk what the heck is wrong with her, but I'll take it. Because do you know what this wonderful woman did?? She wrapped nearly all of my Christmas presents. She spent 2 (that's right -2!) of her evenings at my home, wrapping presents in my cold basement. I mean, whaaaaat?! Who does that?! My awesome friend JE, that's who. And it's not like she had nothing else going on. She works 3 (yes, that's right 3) jobs and has this kind of awesome husband at home who adores her company. And yet she still found - made - time to take this huge task that I heartily abhor off my list of things to do.

And then, my BFF came over and helped me with this super cool fort hubby and I (and the BFF) have made for the kid for Christmas (pictures to come soon, hopefully). I'm pretty sure I'd still be down there measuring and cussing if she'd hadn't come to help me. And then - I know, how could there be more?? - she came and took the kid yesterday to give hubby a break and get the kid out of the house for awhile. She subjected herself to Bounce U (you know, one of those places where the kids run around screaming at the tops of their lungs, throwing themselves onto these enormous inflatable things. It's fun for them. Not so much for any adult unlucky enough to be accompanying them). So, after that, she took him to lunch, then to get ice cream. And THEN, she spent the afternoon with us, helping to decorate cookies (it was loud and crazy up in here, y'all). And, to top off her cake of awesomeness, she cleaned up my kitchen from dinner.

I mean, really, what else could a girl ask than to have such wonderful and giving friends?? I am blessed to have them. And I can only hope that I am half as loving and supportive as they have been, especially in the last year. So, today I began to feel some of that Christmas spirit I have so been lacking. And I have my wonderful friends to thank for that. Love you girls!

Today's lesson: Where would a girl be without her friends? I mean, really, who else would wrap your presents, or clean up your dinner dishes? Girlfriends are a must for any emotionally stable momma.

ICLW

2011-12-21T21:17:00.000-05:00

I've done ICLW several times, though I guess I've never done a synopsis "this is who I am" kind of post. And, since that seems like something I can do relatively quick, here it is. Oh, yeah, and if you have no idea what ICLW is, click here for more info.

Hubby and I have been married for 11.5 years and experienced unexplained infertility for several years. We have 2 boys who joined our family through adoption. Both are open, domestic, transracial adoptions. I was present in the delivery rooms of both my sweet boys. We adore both of their birth families, though our relationships have not always been smooth or easy. My kid is 5 and a half and in Kindergarten. Baby E is nearly 15 months and still doesn't sleep for crap at night. We're exhausted. All. the. time.

I blog about parenting, the funny crap my kid says, things we try that don't get baby E to sleep at night, life in general, social work, breastfeeding (oh yeah, I induced lactation and have been breastfeeding baby E since he was born), milk sharing, random stuff, and I don't really know what else. Even though I'm now parenting the best kids ever (pretty sure I'm not biased about that), I continue to deal with the affects of infertility. It's still something that pops up at the most unexpected moments. So I guess that is something I also blog about. Something else I write about is that my MIL was killed in a freak accident a few months ago. So, any references to grief, mourning ,etc... are about her. It was such a shock. We're mostly still reeling from it. I write about her to try to process it all. Also, usually what I write is more interesting than this post. I think. I hope.

Today's lesson: Apparently sometimes a person just has a song in his soul and he has to sing it out. At bed time. Because that's when it's aching to get out. At least that's the story my kid told tonight. It seems possible that it's also a strategy to delay bedtime.

A Period of Mourning

2011-12-20T06:42:00.001-05:00

Back in the day, and still today in other cultures, there was/is this assumed, almost mandated period of mourning. There are physical indicators that the family is mourning the loss of a loved one. They may cover all the mirrors in the home. Or wear black. Or abstain from certain social situations. In some areas of the world, widows or widowers wear black for the rest of their lives. Some cultures have different customs depending on what part of mourning the family is in (black clothes at first, switching to grey half way through the mourning period). Grief is experienced on the biological, neurochemical, emotional, psychological, social, and spiritual levels. There are hundreds of other ways people around the world do/have mourned their loved ones. Often the time period is at least a year.

While perhaps to some it seems silly to need/want this "how-to" of grieving, this makes so much sense to me. It gives you some direction in how you should act, when heaven knows you're feeling a million things, but none of them are what you should do next. It gets you through all the holidays. All the birthdays. All the seasons. So many of life's events. It gives you a chance to truly grieve. It gives you permission to withdraw some and really deal with the loss. Without outside pressure to "move on".

And, yet, for some reason, this is a cultural practice that we for the most part no longer share in (at least here in the US). And so there is this enormous ambiguity to grief and loss. When should one be ready for this or that? When should we move on? How are we supposed to act? How do we know when we're ready? Or what the hell that even means.

It's all so damn complicated. And I think that sometimes we are compelled to rejoin life well before we're ready, simply because others tell us we should. Or because others force us into it because they have their own ideas of when we should be ready, or what we should be doing. And we, simply because we have no idea ourselves how to grieve, no frame of reference in which to put our own experience, just go along with it. Even while our guts are screaming that it's wrong. That it's awful. That it's the exact opposite of what we should be doing.

But none of us really know what we should do. (And have I mentioned before how much I really hate the word "should", and yet it's sometimes the only appropriate word to use). Should we simply allow others to grieve and move on how they need to, regardless of how it is affecting us? But, what if their way of doing it is truly causing additional harm to us, or others we love, or hell, even themselves? What if we see them avoiding, not really grieving? Or is that simply a way of judging someone else, assuming we know what's best for them?

Grief is so complicated. And though I'm sure it always has been very personal and individual, it also seems like it used to be something that people knew how to do. This grief, it isn't something we know how to do. And that leaves us feeling lost. And even more sad. And, in some ways, even more alone in it all.

Today's lesson: Sometimes progress really isn't that at all. Sometimes the "old ways" of doing things are really the best.

Mean Girls

2011-12-18T06:45:00.002-05:00

So in addition to all the stuff with Mrs L, the kid has also been dealing with a bully in his class. Well, really, the one in particular and her little friend. They're a couple of mean girls(MGs). I can see into their future. Middle school. High school. They are going to make others' lives more miserable. Well, the potential is there. I hope with all I am that something or someone will turn that around for them.

But, it's so interesting to hear the kid talk about them. On the way to school Friday, I brought up to him the possibility of switching classrooms after break (this was before we'd had a decision from Mr P). I told him it would mean a new teacher and kids, but he could still see his friends from his current class at recess, etc... He said, "well except for MG1". I asked him what he meant. He said, "I think I'll avoid her. I mean I like her, but she's kind of a bully to me and some of my other friends". I asked him to explain to me what that means. He said (verbatim), "Momma, lets just say she's kind of complicated to get along with. MG1 is difficult to communicate with effectively quite often. I think it's in my best interest to just avoid her if at all possible". He'd also said earlier in the week that both of the MGs were beautiful on the outside, but not very pretty on the inside.

He went on to explain some of the behaviors MGs 1 and 2 are exhibiting. And I would agree wholeheartedly that they are indeed bullying the other kids. Of course later that afternoon the parent I had lunch with confirmed that she, too, had seen MGs 1 and 2 bully the other kids. She has brought it up to Mrs L. Who knows whether or not Mrs L addressed it in any way. I - and all the other parents whose kids will ever come into contact with these girls - can only hope she will handle it better than she's handled many other issues.

Pretty amazing that a 5 year old knows a bully when he sees one. And even more amazing (aka sad) that they exist already in Kindergarten. Also, take that, Mrs L. My 5 year old obviously has deficiencies in his vocabulary. (eye roll) And, I am now done talking about her.

Today's lesson: Apparently, Kindergarten is not too early to talk with your child about bullying.

In the principal's office twice in one week

2011-12-16T16:22:00.001-05:00

Okay, so after I posted last night I simply couldn't sleep. My brain was running a mile a minute. For TWO hours. So I got up and decided to write an email. I didn't send it last night, just in case it actually sounded crazy. I did send it this morning. Anyway, here's what it said.

Mr. P-

After talking with my husband and processing some of our meeting Wednesday and phone call yesterday, I feel like there are a few things I neglected to explain effectively. One of those are the behaviors and symptoms we are seeing from the kid while at home. Understandably you were focused on school behaviors, but it is ultimately the changes in his behavior at home that are most concerning to us, and led us to try to talk with Mrs. L, then me to talk with the counselor, and finally with you.

First, the kid has always been an outgoing and relatively easygoing child. What we've seen from him in the last 3-4 months is a marked decrease in his frustration tolerance. He has never been a child to have tantrums, but we've started to see some and though they are minor (especially in comparison to those I see in some of my clients), they are absolutely not "normal" for the kid. Additionally, he has always been a confident child; that confidence is lessening and he is often heard to say "I can't do that", which is never something he's said before. We're also seeing his confidence in interacting with other people diminishing. It is only in the last few months that I have heard him say that someone doesn't like him. The kid has started to exhibit some signs of anxiety and increased worrying that we find very concerning as these, too, are completely abnormal for him.

All of these behaviors are what led to the Adjustment Disorder - not the talking out of turn in class. I realize these behaviors may not be ones you all at the school has noted. We have the advantage of having a "before and after" picture of the kid.

I would never presume to tell Mrs L, or any other teacher, how to manage or structure her/his classroom. I recognize that her highly structured classroom works well for some children (indeed, many of my clients greatly benefit from that type of environment). However, it does not for our son. He needs less structure, more freedom of movement, increased opportunities for socialization, and a nurturing authority figure. We are aware that public school is not Montessori school. However, these are the characteristics of his previous classrooms that allowed him to be successful, both academically, socially and emotionally.

In my and my husband's opinion, the kid and Mrs L are like a square peg and a round hole. And that isn't something that can be worked out. So, while I am more than willing to meet this afternoon, and certainly understand your desire to make it work as is, we don't feel like that is possible. We feel that it is in the kid's best interest to be moved to a different classroom.

Please let me know how you prefer to proceed.

Thank you. We both so very much appreciate your willingness to listen and work with us. I know your priority is the same as ours - that kids (including the kid) be successful at school.

So, after all my own anxiety in how to word this and deal with it, the response I got from him was "okay, you know your child better than we do. No problem. We'll switch him". I was like, "whaaaaa....??? I mean, great!". He said he's talk to Mrs L and it would be taken care of when I got there for his classroom Christmas party this afternoon. Well, apparently he wasn't able to get around to it before then because she was all "I really want to meet with you all, but I simply can't do it today. But I really do want to talk. So, what other day in January will work?". I assured her not to worry and that I was going to check in with Mr P on the way out and he could get back with her on that. The middle of chaos, I mean the classroom, wasn't the time to do it. Also, not MY job to tell her. Thankfully.

So, we checked in with Mr P on the way out and he assured me again it wasn't a big deal. He said he'll make sure the kid's stuff magically appears in his new classroom Jan 2nd. He'll let us know early next week whose classroom that will be.

I am still a little worried about how the kid will handle this transition, but I'm feeling pretty confident he'll be okay. I'm grateful that it's "over" insofar as we at least have a decision and know what's happening and it's what we wanted to happen. I will pray with all that's in me that this will work for my sweet boy. I do love him so.

Today's lesson - sometimes it's a heck of a lot easier to advocate for someone else's child than it is to do so for your own. And certainly much less anxiety-ridden.

Last time I was in the Principal's Office I threw up on her shoes.

2011-12-15T21:55:00.001-05:00

So, I realize I left you hanging. I promised to let you know what happened with yesterday's school meeting. But I fell asleep last night on the floor of baby E's room with my arm in his crib and only woke up an hour and a half later. My arm was still asleep and I just went to bed. So, here it is.

Settle in, this is gonna be a long one. Although, since we've had stuff happen today, and will again tomorrow (to be further explained at the end), this may be lacking in some details.

Alright, so basically this is how yesterday's meeting with the counselor and principal went. P (principal): So, tell me what's been going on. Me: (blah, blah, blah - all that stuff y'all already know about). P: So, is he kicking, or hitting, or biting, or throwing desks? Me: Good, lord, no!!!!! P: So, I don't think he has this disorder. Let's call a spade a spade. Basically, what you're saying is that you don't like the way this teacher treats your child and that's why you wanted a 504 plan. Me: Um, well, he does meet the diagnostic criteria for an Adjustment disorder. P: (cuts me off) But all he's doing is just talking in class? So, obviously there's not big behavior problems. Me: Right, hitting and biting, etc... are not the diagnostic and behavioral features of this disorder. That might be oppositional defiant disorder or ADHD, or something else. This is Adjustment Disorder, and again, he does meet the diagnostic criteria. But, no, I don't like how she's treating my child. And yes, the 504 plan was a way to get my child's needs met, with trying to preserve our relationship with the teacher as best possible. P: Yeah, so, basically what you want is for her not to take away your kid's recess, not make him write sentences as a punishment, her to communicate regularly and for her to like him? Me: Yeah. P: That's reasonable and I expect that, too. Me (enormous sigh of relief, thankyoubabyjesus) Yeah, I thought so, too.

Then he said he'd like to talk to Mrs L before deciding what to do. He said he'd do that Friday afternoon because "I know all you parents think that if I talk to a teacher she'll treat your kids different". Me "I don't think it matters a bit what you say to her. She's not going to treat my child any differently. And I'd prefer that if we're going to switch him, it be decided by tomorrow, so we can discuss it with him and he can have Friday to process this change and say goodbyes to his classmates and teacher (and the assistant). "Oh. okay."

The plan was then that he'd talk with her today and call me and let me know what his decision was. According to him - and I don't know whether this is per policy or what - he has the final say so regarding whether or not we can get the kid's classroom changed. Overall, though I'd felt a little defensive and that he was pretty ticked off, I came away feeling like it was Mrs L he was irritated with (not me) and fairly satisfied with the whole thing.

So then I waited all day to hear from him. By 330 (school was out at 230 and the office closes at 3), I called to leave a message. He actually answered and said he hadn't had a chance to talk with her until the end of the day. He said she was "quite surprised and taken aback" by much of what I'd said. She didn't remember the emails we'd sent (other than one) or either of the notes I put in his folder for her. She confirmed that the reasons the kid gets in trouble is for talking when he isn't supposed to be. She was so confused because she assumed that "no news is good news", I guess as far as her not getting communication from us (though that's not accurate, as we made several attempts) and as far as her not contacting us.

P said he's not ruling out changing classrooms, but would like us to sit down with her tomorrow to talk. I want to do this even less than I want to get a shot. And the dear lord knows how much I hate me a shot. At this point, I don't care what she has to say. I want him in a different classroom. Nothing P says, nothing I say, is going to make Mrs L nurturing. Or like the kid. I like conflict as much as the next girl. So if this is going to get us nowhere other than in an extremely uncomfortable spot, what's the point?

Oh, yes, and the (very important!!!) thing I forgot to mention, is that I did meet with that other parent. She confirmed nearly everything the kid's been telling us. (And I really liked her, too! And not just because she said what I wanted to hear either, lol.) The short of it is that Mrs L has little group of her favorites, and her little group of not favorites. And she treats the two groups very differently.

So, if an independent set of eyes is getting this same thing - the exact same thing my 5 year old is telling me - seems like there's about a 99.9% chance that it's true. Not that I can/should say that to her. But I'm pretty sure it's all I'll be thinking about.

Okay, so here's what I've come to after an hour of talking all this over with my mom and hubby. I will be going in and flat out saying that I'm not interested in making things work for the kid in Mrs L's room. her environment is not in which my child is being successful, or happy. I am going to ask and if necessary demand that he be moved to another room/teacher. I can only hope that it will be that easy. I know it won't. It's going to suck. Mostly I know that I don't want to cry.

Today's lesson: Sometimes you really don't know how much you'll miss something til it's gone. For us, that means the kid's Montessori school. Dear lord how I miss that place and the wonderful people in it.

Finally, a school meeting is scheduled

2011-12-13T17:34:00.002-05:00

Okay, so here's the latest in the school drama department. Friday we finally got a response from the school counselor regarding getting the 504 meeting set up. 2 weeks later than she said she'd get back with me. (insert picture of my head exploding here) And here's what she had to say - um, I think we should do the meeting in January when we're all fresh and ready to start using it. (insert picture of my head - not exploded - dropping onto my desk and smacking it hard)

Yeah, that's just not going to work for me. I mean, the whole point of the 504 was to try these modifications now, and then transition to a new classroom in January, if needed (i.e. if the modifications didn't help). Well, at this point, that's obviously not going to happen. Which of course isn't completely the school's fault. I mean, if we'd contacted them sooner, we'd be further in the process. But, it's still frustrating.

Also, I'm really feeling like no matter what we put on that 504, we're still going to need to end up switching to a new teacher/classroom. I mean, nothing on a piece of paper is going to make this woman nurturing. And that is what my baby needs. After Christmas break is just a natural time to make that transition. So, I responded to the counselor telling her that things seems to have gotten even worse and we were leaning heavily towards switching so I'd like to meet to talk sometime this week so we can (all) make that determination. She didn't seem thrilled. but agreed.

The other part of this is that I've had a wonderfully lovely offer from another parent whose kid is in Mrs L's class, who spends a lot of time in the classroom, to sit down and talk. I'm hoping she can offer me a more accurate picture (than my 5yo can) about what is actually going on. She may tell me that my kid's a hellion in the classroom (and if that's the case, I really hope she will tell me!), but I'm open to hear whatever insights she can offer.

So, I'm going to talk with this other parent tomorrow. And then to talk with the counselor, and principal (!) right afterwards. I wish hubby could come, but has to teach. So, it'll just be me. Send me supportive vibes tomorrow about 1:30, okay?

Today's lesson: Getting called into the Principal's office is just a scary for the "good kid" at 33 as it was a 9. Gulp...

A Little Help in the Christmas Spirit Department

2011-12-12T21:27:00.000-05:00

A quick post to share a sweet story.

I was sitting with baby E tonight, reading him his requisite two books (they're part of our new bedtime routine, which I hesitate to "put out there", but appears to be going well). One of the books was a Christmas story. At the end is a big picture of the baby Jesus, up close of his face and his little hand. It's pretty much the same size as baby E. He sat through the whole book, which let me just tell ya, is a bit of an accomplishment. Even if he was babbling and trying to get me to turn the page before I'd finished reading it. To be fair, the text isn't all that great, though the art is quite beautiful.

Anywho, at the end when we got to the head and hand of the infant Jesus, baby E carefully stroked his face. Then leaned in and planted a big wet kiss on right on the baby's mouth. I think there was tongue. Then he repeatedly high fived baby Jesus. And then repeated the whole thing all over again. I do think the kissing was sweet as could be. But, the high fiving was my absolute favorite. While it was all a bit sacrilegious, I'm pretty sure the Savior would approve. You know, he did say to bring the children to him. Not sure he thought there would be tongue involved, but, well you know, I'm sure the high fives at least were more than welcome.

Merry Christmas, y'all.

Today's lesson: Sometimes the Christmas Spirit comes from the most unexpected sources. Or at least in the most irreverent ways.

His First Tooth

2011-12-09T22:04:00.000-05:00

My baby lost his first tooth. It was the first tooth he got as a 3 and a 1/2 month old. It is the first tooth for him to lose, at 5 and 3/4ths years. That tooth was a surprise. We were camping and I looked down in that little mouth finding, much to my surprise, a pearly white sliver in his little mouth. I was shocked. I mean, he'd had no signs of teething and he was so young. Yet there it was. My tiny baby, was growing up. Getting teeth. Shortly thereafter he got another, and soon 2 more. He looked so different. The gummy grin was gone. It changed his looks so much. It changed the way I thought about him. He went from newborn baby, to baby-baby. The first of many changes.

This tooth, it's been wiggling for a couple of weeks. He's said it felt funny. Then, tonight, once I showed him the tooth fairy pillow his Gram got him several years ago - it has Superman on it - he went straight to the bathroom and started working on it. He managed to finagle it out of his mouth almost all on his own with only a little assistance from his Poppa. I walked into the bathroom and he was grinning, with red-tinged spit trailing down his chin, holding that tooth in his hand. Immensely proud of himself.

I never imagined that my baby losing a tooth would be such a big milestone. That it would be such an emotional milestone for his momma. He looks different already. So very different. And I think he is different. Even more so than Kindergarten, losing teeth is apparently such a passageway from little to big kid-ness. At least for this momma.

As I kissed him good night, he asked, "Momma, are you sad?". I told him I was, but it was happy-sad. He smiled and kissed my cheek. He whispered, "I know. Love you, Momma" and laid down. I warned him not to touch that pillow or the tooth fairy wouldn't come. He laid so still, hardly breathing. Still, I'm pretty sure I'll go in there to exchange tooth for money and the tooth will be missing due to him having played with it. Because even if he's growing up, he's still my little boy. And even something a momentous as losing his first tooth, won't change the essence of who he is.

He will always be my little boy. Even without those original, tiny teeth.

Today's lesson: Sometimes the important moments are small and unexpected. They sneak up on you in a wonderful way. They change not the way things are, but the way you see them.

Holiday Spirit

2011-12-06T12:03:00.000-05:00

I'm finding it really hard to get "into" Christmas this year. I know it's still a couple of weeks away, but I'm just not feelin' it. Maybe it's because the weather's been nothing Christmas-like at all. Or the pure exhaustion from cumulative lack of sleep the whole live-long year. Or the stress related to the kid's school crap. Or the daily (big) changes at work. Or the anxiety of starting a new job (this will be the 3rd year I've gone into the new year about to start a new job - oh, I hadn't told you about that? Another day, promise). Or just that it's been a challenging and sometimes painful year all 'round. I don't know. But whatever the cause, I haven't yet found my bag 'o Christmas Cheer.

I've tried. I've made and decorated homemade ornaments with my kiddo. I've put on the Christmas music. I've sung Christmas songs to the boys when I'm putting them to bed. I've done some shopping (though heaven knows I still have tons to do, which isn't typical for me). I've made some homemade gifts. I've watched (uh, several) Hallmark Christmas movies. I made for and watched with the kid a Santa video from Portable North Pole (which was priceless). But mostly, it all seems forced. Except the Hallmark movies. Those I kind of love. Don't judge. (I can't be the only one, otherwise there wouldn't be a whole channel. So fess on up, people.)

And of course I know that Christmas is about the baby Jesus and all that jazz. And I'm trying to connect with that, too, but it just ain't happenin'.

So it all makes me wonder, why do we have such high expectations for the holidays? That they're supposed to be this joyous, magical time of year? And maybe that's what I feel like the expectation is supposed to be, and it's just my issue. But I seem to see/hear a lot of people talk about everything the holidays are supposed to be. And do I want my kid to have that magical experience? Well, of course. But it just seems unrealistic. And pretty impossible. Or at least I have no idea how to do it. It feels like another parenting "FAIL". Which I feel like I've had a lot of lately. And that defeatist attitude probably isn't helping me any either.

Today's lesson: magical-shmagical. Sometimes the best you can do it simply get through something. And the holidays may just be one of those things for you, too. And that is okay. Or at least that's what I'm going to tell myself until I find that elusive holiday spirit. Or the holidays are over. One of the two...

And then, we still weren't sleeping

2011-12-03T22:10:00.000-05:00

So, maybe it feels like I'm beating a dead horse with this topic, because really what else could I have to say, and yet here it is... We're not sleeping here at my house. Yeah, still. It's been more than a year and this crazy baby is still up every 2-3 hours. Thought lately it seems like it's been more like every 1.5-2 hours. It's the epitome of awesomeness. Or the antithesis. One of those. Although one night recently he did sleep 9 hours straight. I'm betting it won't happen again for another month. 'Cause that's how things roll at my house.

And I'm just tired. I'm beyond tired. I'm physically and emotionally exhausted. I have moments where I am on the brink of a breakdown. The moments seem to come more often of late. They're moments when I just can't deal with whatever it is that's going on, which is usually related to my sweet kid. He is getting the brunt of it. I sort of hate myself for that at times because I know it's not his fault. I know he's innocent and already struggling himself because of all the ridiculous school stuff. (Sigh) But, it is what it is right now.

So, I'm feeling desperate. Like almost to the point of going the CIO (cry it out) route with baby E, because, seriously, I just don't know what else to do. I've been sleeping on the floor of his room with my arm in his crib for much of this week. Because, sadly, I still seem to get more sleep that way than if he's in there alone, or even in our bed. It hurts, as in I can hardly move today because my back hurts so much. However, I'm at a loss of what else to do.

Everything we did with the kid and all the suggestions I've given to other parents, none of them have worked. Sometimes he'll sleep 7-9 hours (though those are rare, like once every couple of weeks), but most of the time he's up several times a night. And those times he's up, he lately is crying, not screaming, but crying, just until we either pick him up or pat on him. He'll eventually for back to sleep, but it's short-lived. Up until a couple of months ago, he was just grunting and it was only minutes til he was back asleep. Now, though, it's more like 10-15 minutes. Long enough that I'm fully awake and it takes awhile to get back to sleep.

And I can't pick out any kind of a pattern as to when he does sleep. I mean, it's usually when he's had 2 good uninterrupted naps in the day, but getting those naps is by no means a guarantee that he will sleep all night. On the nights he does sleep, he's usually taken 8+oz while nursing just before bed, but, again, just because he does have that much doesn't mean he'll sleep. But those two things are about the only factors I've identified. Beyond that, I got nothin'. Other than frustration and exhaustion. Those I've got a-plenty.

Today's lesson - the baby knows when you're complaining about him and will inevitably wake up and fuss. Just to prove to you that he knows you're talking about him and doesn't appreciate it. And that you'd better get in there and pat his butt before he screams, and wakes up his brother. Because that's even less of a fun party.

Family Pictures

2011-12-02T06:17:00.011-05:00

I thought it might be nice for you for me to share some pictures, ya know, since I've been so wordy and whiny lately. My fabulously talented friend Misty at Something Borrowed Photography took these pics for us about a month ago. If you're local and in the market for some pics, you should check her out!!

So, here's my boys and my momma. Love this one! It may be my favorite out of the whole group.

Oh, be still my heart! I mean, look at that handsome face! How could someone be so mean to that beautiful little boy???

And this one, such a dear, funny little creature. Now, if only he'd start to sleep in more than 3 hour chunks...

Me and my kiddo.

Me and my babe.

The fam. Not too terrible, if I do say so myself!

Today's lesson - it's interesting how pictures can teach us things about ourselves. It's interesting how we can fool ourselves by looking in mirrors. Fool ourselves into only seeing what we're comfortable with. It's interesting how pictures, somehow, seem to make it harder to continue to live ostrich-like. It's interesting how those 2 dimensional representations of us, can sometimes be more realistic than our 3 dimensional selves that we live in every day.

Little signs

2011-11-30T21:18:00.000-05:00

Sometimes the right thing shows up at the right time. For me, feeling worried about the kid as I droppped him off at school earlier this week and starting to doubt (again) that I'm overreacting about how things are going for him there, THIS article/post showed up on my google reader. And while it talks about what a 4 year old really needs to know, I think it still rings very true for my sweet 5 year old. As one of the commenters says so eloquently, "It's a wonderful reminder that my child is not on a racetrack, but rather a slow winding road". Ahhh, I love that imagery.

I still have the form the counselor gave me to have the pediatrician fill out. Mostly this is because I simply haven't had the time to fill it out and drop it off to the ped to have her sign it. But, the incident earlier this week has been the impetus I needed to get that sucker filled out and back to the school. So, it's all filled out and waiting for hubby to take it in the morning. I'm sending good vibes with the form, that good things and changes are on their way. Keep your fingers crossed for us!

Today's lesson - little lessons are all around us. We need only be open to them.

And then, she said THIS

2011-11-29T22:03:00.000-05:00

And I have yet again been shocked by the things this teacher will say and/or do. Are you ready for this???? (And I completely am willing to admit the possibility that I am overreacting about this. But my blog, my space to overreact.)
I'm putting the kid to bed this night and he has been a mess (a MESS, I tell you!!) this evening. So, I'm trying to process with him what's going on and how he can turn it around tomorrow. He had mentioned earlier in the evening that Mrs L had threatened to call hubby today when he wasn't doing what he was supposed to be doing. (For the record, he said he was just sitting there, not doing his work, but not disrupting anyone - who knows.) Then, all of the sudden, he got all teary-eyed and was like "Mrs L is gonna send Santa a list and only the kids on the good list are gonna get presents". I - staying very calm - asked him if he thought he was going to be on the list of the kids who didn't get presents. He couldn't even speak. He simply sniffled and nodded his head yes. Then I couldn't respond. And then he, because he's a funny kid, said "uh, Momma, can you actually see in the dark 'cause I responded to you, but you didn't respond to me". I assured him that I did indeed see his head nod. And then I spent the next 5 minutes reminding him of his awesomeness. And assuring him that though he sometimes makes bad choices he is indeed a "good kid" and will absolutely be receiving gifts from Santa.

How dare that woman tell my kid that he is on Santa's bad list and isn't going to get presents?! Now, I doubt she singled him out, but am I the only one who thinks it completely inappropriate that she would even bring this up in the classroom?!

Or, honestly, the other whole problem here is that she's threatening to call the kid's parents to get him to behave. I mean, talk about giving up your own power! Is it any wonder my kid, and (at least some of) the others don't listen to her well? Duh. When you threaten to call the parents, you in effect tell the kids that you don't actually have any authority over them. So why would they listen?!

I kinda hate this woman.

Today's lesson - the saying should have been: "hell hath no fury like a momma whose baby has been scorned".

A clean house

2011-11-27T06:01:00.000-05:00

Last weekend I cleaned house. And I mean I cleaned house. I did 10 loads of laundry. I dusted all the cabinet doors and the insides of those couple of cabinets that never get used (i.e. the "good" china and stemware). I organized at least 5 rooms. I tossed out broken toys, setting aside those the boys have grown too old for to donate. I sorted through those clothes that I'm probably never going to fit into again, or the ones that made me think "what was I thinking when I bought that?!". I also went to see Breaking Dawn, which was total awesomeness (and I'm gonna go see it again next weekend 'cause I'm that much of a dork - don't judge), and it was also a good break from the cleaning. But when I got home, I cleaned some more. Sinks, and floors, and counter tops. Matching little bitty socks. Clearing out the clothes the kid has grown out of in the last two weeks (seriously, the size 6's only lasted him about 4-5 months!). Cleaning.

Now, I do not love to clean. I often get overwhelmed by the sheer chaos that seems to find certain areas in my house. And it just immobilizes me. I walk into the kitchen when hubby has been cooking - not cleaning at all as he goes - and I simply can't deal with it. It's not like an excuse to just not have to clean. It's more like the inability to deal with the overwhelming chaos of the space. I get that way, too, about my bedroom (when laundry has sat around for a week or two and somehow migrated all over the flippin' place) or the kid's room, when he's shredded some piece of paper all over the place to go with the dirty clothes that seem to refuse to live in the closet as they're supposed to. All of these things just stop me in my tracks, and I have to walk away before I get drawn into the chaos and can never find my way out. Or at least that's what it feels like could happen. (This leaves hubby to deal with these huge messes, though, to be fair to myself, often he's the one who's made them.)

But, sometimes, when the mood hits me, I just gotta clean. I get motivated and it just makes sense to take advantage of it. These are the times when I dust. Or clean windows and mirrors. Or scrub the bathroom floors. Or clean under the beds. Or organize the closets. Most of the time these tasks don't even dawn on me, or I simply shrug the thought off as a task for some mysterious "other day". But on these magical, only come once in a blue mood kind of days, it makes perfect sense to tackle them.

There's a benefit to my cleaning sprees, other than just a significantly cleaner house. As I clean in one of these rare moods, I can feel the stress leaving my body. I don't feel overwhelmed by the chaos around me. I can just move from one thing to another, cleaning without stopping. I am singularly focused, not feeling guilty about the time I should be spending with my children, or the thousands of other things I could be doing. I just clean. And when I'm done...wow. I feel calmer, more composed, and I have a clean house to boot.

My MIL was a bit OCD about the cleaning. Her house was spotless all the time. She spent a lot of time cleaning and cleaning. And most of the time all that time and energy seem to me to have been a waste. But, on days like the one I had this weekend, I understand her a little better. I, too, feel the release of pressure after that ____________ (whatever) has finally been cleaned. I, too, feel the sense of relief and lowered stress. Now, I wish I had these spurts of cleaning more often sometimes, but then I remember how much time she truly did focus on the cleaning and I'm relieved to have them hit only every so often.

Today's lesson - sometimes insight into another person hits at the oddest moment. But what a gift it is to understand someone else a bit better.

A Glass of Wine, or 3

2011-11-25T22:04:00.000-05:00

I grew up with an alcoholic father. I mean, as far as I know, he's still an alcoholic father. I haven't seen him in several years. No contact either. As far as I know, he could be reading this right now. But where he is right now or what he's doing is neither here nor there. Growing up my mother drank (still does), but I can think of only a few times when I saw her affected by alcohol (and those were mostly when I was an adult myself). Sadly, I can think of only a few experiences with my father that didn't involve alcohol, or more specifically him abusing it.

Growing with a father who I knew, even as a little kid, had a problem with alcohol has colored my view and experience with alcohol. I first drank when I was 16 and went on a "class trip" to Mexico (a story - and a good one - for another day). And by "drank" alcohol, I mean I had - literally - a sip. I didn't drink again until I went to college. I think, really, til I was 20. I've been inebriated several times, but I'm pretty sure I could count those times on 2 hands. I found that I have not just a high, but a really high tolerance to substances. Alcohol, laughing gas (wisdom teeth extraction), even ibuprofen, I have to consume a lot to get the same affects as other people.

Not that I often want to get that same affect (inebriation, I mean). That out of control feeling isn't one I seek frequently; it isn't one I like. I much prefer to be in control of myself. More than that, I need to be in control of myself. Not being in control is scary. Any mental health professional would probably tell you this is a common trait in a child of an alcoholic, this need to be in control. It maybe one of the reasons why many of us are successful and accomplished professionally - we're type A, good at getting things done, and getting them done well. It's probably also the reason a good number of us struggle in relationships, because we want to be in control all the time.

After my 3rd glass of wine (when I finally started feeling the least bit of an affect), I start to understand why my father drinks. It's that feeling he craves. The feeling of no longer needing to be in control. The feeling of starting to let go of all that responsibility piled on your shoulders. The feeling of relaxation. It's a feeling that, because he is an alcoholic and has been for probably 40 years, he finds at the bottom of a 24pack (or more) of beer. It's a feeling that fortunately I can get to after just a couple of glasses of wine. And, as wonderful as it is, it's still scary. Because it's still a loss of control.

I feel incredibly blessed and lucky that I didn't inherit that alcoholic, dependent gene from him. It was a total luck of the draw, but I have never felt that dependence on any substance. I am beyond grateful for that. But, as I look at my boys, I wonder whether those are genes they have. Whether or not they'd been adopted, I know this I something I would have thought and worried about. And I - in my head - know it's not something over which I have control, but still I worry.

After I drank my (rare) 3 glasses of wine at dinner tonight, I wonder what I am teaching my children about alcohol. I wondered without my mother's "lessons" of drinking without becoming drunk (or crazy), what my attitude about alcohol would have been. I wonder if by drinking in front of my boys, I am helping them to develop a healthy attitude about alcohol - that it is something that can be consumed and enjoyed, without being abused. I hope that I am. But still I worry. I wonder if people who didn't grow up with an alcoholic parent worry about such things. Or perhaps they never even consider the possibility that their children could become addicts.

My father's alcoholism has affected me in a plethora of ways. Because of it, of him, I am who I am. And I've long since made peace with that, with the way his alcoholism affected my childhood and my current self. But one of those ways is that I, probably more so than the average parent, worry about my children's attitude and future as it relates to substances. I worry, and I try to control. Which is, I'm sure, not the best way to handle the issue. But it's the best I can do for now.

Today's lesson - sometimes 3 glasses of wine are just 3 glasses of wine. Sometimes they help you to relax. Sometimes, however, they make you think way too too much. And those are times when you should just go to bed. Good night, friends.

Thankfulness

2011-11-24T06:06:00.002-05:00

Sometimes it's hard to remember to be thankful. Some years are harder than others. This one has been challenging in many ways. It has at times been hard to remember to be thankful. I have been reminded that I have much to be thankful for. So I decided to share a list of some of the things, because it's a good reminder for me. Here it is, in no particular order:

the kid's very FIRST loose tooth!!!! Oh, my boy is getting so grown up (also, who knows how much the tooth fairy is doling out these days??)
Starbucks. I've only really begun to appreciate it in the last year. It's now a dear friend.
My lovely fleece blanket that I snuggle with nightly. I adore it's cuddliness.
My sweet boys. They are dear and hilarious and I am incapable of describing how thankful I am for them.
My momma. Our loss of MIL has made me cherish her even more.
Books. Yeah, like all of them. I just love to read.
The more than 12 donors who have fed baby E in the way I only dreamed of doing. You women are my hero's.
Lady Gaga. Yeah, I kinda love her music. And so do my boys. I love how they groove and sing along whenever she comes on.
My dear hubby who cleans and cooks and loves me in spite of and because of all my flaws, and even though I've gotten fat and haven't even shaved my legs in more than a month. (And, wow, did I just admit that to the entire world...?).
The kid's reading teacher who IS nurturing and motivates him to want to read and write.
The gymnastics classes we've found for the kid. To see him grin from ear to ear for a solid hour every week, to watch him excel and learn, it is just a gift.
My co-workers, past and present. I have been blessed with wonderful co-workers who have accepted me and made me feel welcome. I so appreciate them!
Our fabulous sitter. Without her, I don't know how I would go to work every day. Because I of her, I can support other people's children, without worrying about my own. I know baby E is loved when he is with her.
My dear friends who truly know me, feed my soul, brain, and indulge my need to see Breaking Dawn more than once.
Domperidone, the medicine that made it possible for me to provide baby E with at least some milk from my own body.
My clients who invite me into their lives and teach me so much about myself, both professionally and personally.
Cloth diapers - they keep my baby's sweet little bum healthy, and are great for the environment to boot. Um, and they're adorable too, way cuter than disposables.
As always, I am beyond thankful for the people who made me a mother - L and D, and R and D. This year, I am so very thankful that L and D found their way back into our lives as it is such a gift for the kid! They have arrived at just the perfect time, when the kid seems to need them.

Today's lesson - giving ourselves over to thankfulness, if even for a moment, is a gift we give to ourselves. What a wonderful way to start the Christmas season.

The Counselor Conference

2011-11-22T21:33:00.000-05:00

So here is, as promised, the synopsis (and my commentary and processing) of my meeting with the counselor at the kid's school this morning.

I was running late, and I hate running late, so I was a bit flustered going in. But, Ms C was overall quite lovely. I shared with her our concerns and that his pediatrician had diagnosed him with an Adjustment Disorder. I did decide not to tell her that I was actually the one who made the diagnosis, and the pediatrician just agreed with it, without even looking at the DSM (aka the bible of mental health). I explained that our top concerns are the lack of communication from Mrs L, despite our varied attempts to do so, and how unhappy the kid appears to be (i.e. he can't come up with anything positive to say about school and often quickly changes the topic when Mrs L is brought up).

I was a bit nervous going in, particularly that Ms C would be resistant to the 504 plan. I met with a counselor at a different school yesterday (regarding one of my clients) and that counselor made the 504 sound like this big huge deal. Well, the kid's counselor stated that she feels if a kiddo needs support, then that's what they're going to do, and she has no problem handing out 504 plans. She gave me a few papers that need to be filled out. Once I get those back to her (hopefully next week - once I can get the pediatrician to sign off on them), we'll get a meeting scheduled within a week or so. Which is fantastic.

The modifications we're requesting are: daily communication from Mrs L indicating the kid's behavior throughout the day; more positive rewards and discipline (i.e. no writing sentences, no taking away recess); movement breaks; even socialization breaks throughout the day; an occupational therapy evaluation (or at least observation) to determine if there are any additional strategies that can be used to further support him with his fine motor skills. If anyone else has any suggesions about other modications, I'd LOVE to hear them!!

Ms C seemed to understand our concerns about the teacher, and even agree with them (without directly saying so, you know, school politics and all). She plans to talk with the principal and thought that he will probably want to be present at the 504 meeting. Apparently it's pretty uncommon for the principal to attend 504 meetings, but, because of the issues with the teacher, she thought he probably would want to. I made sure to explain that we have no interest in getting Mrs L in trouble, we just want our kid to be in a nurturing environment where he can be academically and emotionally successful. She assured me that the school wants that for all kids as well (though, really, what else could she have said in response to that) and she also thanked me for being calm and rational. I'm sure she gets some pretty ticked off parents in her office. I don't envy her her job.

So the one thing that kind of, okay seriously, ticked me off (because, it's me, so you know there had to be something), was this. As soon as I mentioned the Adjustment Disorder, the following conversation ensued ... "Okay, the kid is adopted right?". "Well, yes, he was adopted." "Right, well, you know lots of kids who are adopted have that attachment thing. You know, oh what's it called...Reactive Attachment Disorder." "Um, no, he doesn't have that. He's been with us since he was born and --." "Well you know, lots of adopted kids still have that and have issues, you know." I - trying hard to control my mouth - reiterated that the presentation of the kid's issues coincided with his beginning at that school. And that he absolutely, by no means, has any kind of attachment issues. Period. I mean, if you're going to start throwing out diagnoses, you should probably know what they are, and what the hell you're talking about. Just sayin'.

So, the synopsis, Ms C was great today, with the exception of her stupidity regarding adoption and DSM criteria. We're headed towards the kid's 504 plan, and hopefully some positive changes in the way the teacher deals with him and us.

Today's lesson: As a commenter - and friend from way back in my elementary school days (Hi, LCR!) - said, what a difference it would make for (at least some of) our kids if public schools functioned more like montessori programs. If classrooms were smaller, and there wasn't quite so much focus on the ever important TEST...sigh...

Out of shape

2011-11-21T06:06:00.002-05:00

Hey, remember when I was all like, "yeah, I've gotten all fat and out of shape and now I'm gonna change and let you know how that's going?" I've done a fabulous job of that. I know I've been inspirational and all that jazz. You're welcome.

Or, I said all that and then didn't do a damn thing differently. And thus, I have not only not become more healthy and not lost weight, to the contrary, I have become even more of a blob and gained even more weight. We had some family pictures done a few weeks ago. While they are beautiful and my friend did a phenomenal job, I barely recognize myself. I look at what is apparently my face and I wonder who that is. My eyes are now squinty, hidden under bigger cheeks. My neck is hidden under a 2nd chin. I wonder where I am in all of that.

I think about all the reasons why I've continued to gain weight and be so unhealthy, and they're the same as they were all those months ago. It boils down to lack of physical activity and a lack of motivation to engage in physical activity. And that boils down to me being t-i-r-e-d. All. The. Time. The reasons are easy to identify. It's fair to blame exhaustion. It's a valid excuse.

But I keep coming back to those pictures. And wondering where I am in all of that. And where I have gone...

Today's lesson - change doesn't just happen. It necessitates work and commitment and then more work. Change is hard. Even when the results are something we really want. Change is hard.

The Duggars

2011-11-19T07:01:00.002-05:00

For me, the Duggar family is one part car wreck one can't help to stare at, and the other part inspirational book on parenting. They're a combination of the freakish and the awe-inspiring. In case you have no idea who/what I'm talking about, The Duggars have 19 children, and the wife is now expecting their 20th child. She's is 45 and has given birth to all of them.

I think for many infertiles, the Duggars are a smack in the face. An enormous, multiplying and grotesque reminder of what we can't have. It's almost like there are only so many pregnancies to go around, and she's claiming way more than her fair share. There are feelings of doubt about the parents' ability to parent and parent well so many children.

But here's the thing...The Duggars, well, they are some of the most calm, loving, and consistent parents I've ever observed. Of course they're on television and have control over the editing of their show. But look at some of the other reality shows (i.e. that crazy Kate plus 8 chic). The truth about who they are and how they parent seems to become obvious.

But all we consistently see on the Duggars (yeah, I do watch it whenever I just happen to catch it - again, it's that whole car accident that you can't look away from kind of thing) is calmness, and consistency, and gentle redirection. There's no raising of voices. There's no spanking. Or even time outs. They make a point of spending one-on-one time with each child regularly.

And here's what it boils down to...they are consciously making a choice to be open to what God has in store for them. They are financially responsible for the entirety of their family, relying on no more "assistance" than I do. They spend a ton of family time together. All the children appear confident, healthy, developmentally on par, and happy. The older ones are becoming contributing members of society, holding jobs and expressing a responsibility for and desire to help others. I don't know that there is anything else I could want for my own children.

So why do we judge the Duggars so harshly? They are parenting well. Really well. In truth, one of my wishes is that when I "grow up" I will be half as calm, gentle, loving, patient, and trusting in my children's ability to be self-sufficient as the Duggars are. Do I wish that I could get pregnant and have a couple babies the "easy" way? Hell yes, I do. But the Duggars living that reality doesn't make my dream any less likely (I mean, really, it's already unlikely). Their pregnancies and children does not affect my ability to have children or parent. Can I feel jealousy at her ease in conceiving? Yes I can. I can also really relate to her desire for and absolute love of children.

So, I think we should lay off the Duggars. Yeah, her uterus may be old, dusty and about to fall out (as hubby asserts), but it's her uterus and she gets to chose what to do with it. And as long as the Duggar children are loved and well taken care of, well, we have no say so in the matter.

Today's lesson: here's one - of several actually - I learned from the Duggars. Praise your children publicly and redirect them privately. They are frequently seen to praise their children on the show, but only very rarely redirect/discipline them. None of us wants to be disciplined in front of others. What a beautiful way to teach our children about respect - by first giving it to them.

The First Report Card

2011-11-17T06:50:00.002-05:00

We got the kid's first report card yesterday. I didn't have high expectations. But it was even worse than I could have guessed. That teacher, oh that teacher!!!!!!!!!!!!! She had the NERVE to say that my kid's vocabulary isn't age appropriate. As in, it's below grade level. MY KID, y'all! Anyone who's ever met him knows how absolutely ridiculous and fictitious this assertion is. I mean, this kid was saying things such as "I am not available to you" when he was less than 2. He has a more expansive vocabulary today than many adults I know. My child, went through a rhyming phase when he was 2, where, really, he seemed to talk in rhymes all day long. She is claiming that his ability to rhyme is "an area of concern". These are only two examples. Nearly everything on that darn report card was marked as an "area of concern". I can barely contain my rage.

At the appointment with the pediatrician last week, the pediatrician agreed with me that something needs to happen. While she would have preferred that we just demand he be moved to a different class, I wanted to do everything we could to prevent that, to minimize any further disruption. Thus the 504 plan. I'd put off calling the counselor as I'd planned because I started reconsidering, thinking perhaps I was overreacting. As I've mentioned before, I don't want to be one of those parents.

Well, eff it. I'm over it and will be calling the counselor to set up a meeting first thing today. I am tired of this teacher and her shananigans. I am tired of her telling me that my child doesn't know squat. I'm tired of her making him feel inadequate. I am tired of him coming home, sad-faced, unable to tell me anything good about his day. I'm over it and I am OVER this woman. Things will get better. They will. My baby will love school again. He will come come bubbling with excitement about what he learned, or what he did that day. He will smile when talking about school. He will laugh and smile all the time again. He will walk around lighter, not like the weight of the world is on his little shoulders. He will feel successful and confident once again. Whether or not that woman is there to see it.

Today's lesson - beware of pissing off the momma bear. That is all.

Just UGH!

2011-11-16T18:48:00.001-05:00

Things have been rough around here. Baby E still isn't sleeping (big ole shocker there). I've been sick for, like, forever (really, this is week 3 of this crud, which I think actually is the big, nasty flu 'cause I thought I was going to die for awhile, or at least I wanted to). The time change is causing big problems in the kid's sleep (as in he's been getting up at 5am or earlier, for a couple of weeks now which is - most assuredly - pure awesomeness for his behavior, or the antithesis there of, one of those two). Baby E is into EVERYTHING (garbage, toilet, cabinets, drawers, etc...) and is driving me somewhat mad. Hubby and I have been particularly crabby with each other of late (can't imagine why, but it sure doesn't help with any of the rest of it all). Work is just...grrrrr. The kid's 1st report card came home today and things are not good, y'all (I completely hate that teacher - update on that whole mess to come in the next couple of days, hopefully, if I can get my shit together again long enough to write a blog post that is). And I'm just flippin' exhausted, like all the time. Ah, yes, and to top off this lovely mess with a fun little cherry, I think I'm pms-ing, in a ferociously bad (like worse than I've had since before I started the whole inducing lactation protocol more than 2 years ago) kind of way.

Doesn't that make you wanna come on over to my house? I thought as much. But there's cleaning - dusting in particular - to be done! I thought that might convince you.

Whine session over.

Today's lesson - sometimes things just suck. Sometimes it's really hard to remember that tomorrow (or the tomorrow after tomorrow, or the one after that) will be better. Sometimes it's easy to get stuck in the suckiness. And then something small happens, to remind you in some itty bitty way, that - really - the better is coming. If you can just hold on long enough for it to arrive.

Siblings

2011-11-11T05:50:00.002-05:00

Several people have commented how much my boys enjoy each other. And, truth be told, they do. Like all the time. It is awesome. The kid loves to entertain baby E. And baby E loves to follow him around, showering him with gooey kisses. Which the kid loves. Baby E is like a built in audience for the kid. And the kid is nearly always entertaining for baby E. They're a perfect match. And I am so incredibly blessed by that.

But their relationship has started to make me think about my own with my brother. (What? You didn't know I have a brother? Well, I do. A younger one. He lives far away.)

My brother and I have never been what I'd consider close. We're very different. Our career choices kind of do the best job of explaining it. I am a social worker, a therapist. He's an engineer, a computer one. See what I mean? I'm people. He's math and science and I don't even know what because that's not how my brain works. I figure out behavior and relationships. He figures out scientific computer stuff.

He and I have always been on different planes. Occasionally we cross, and those are (as adults at least) positive interactions, but - truth be told - we just have very little in common. And it's not that either of us made that decision consciously, it's just kind of how it is. How it has always been. Really, the gulf seems to have gotten bigger since our kids were born (he has 2 also). I don't know why that is, but it is.

And then my MIL died. My brother drove more than 13hrs by himself in one day to be at her funeral with me. I absolutely didn't expect him to do that (seriously, that's a lot of driving for 1 person in a day). Also, like I said, we're not really close. And that, I think, is why I was so deeply, profoundly touched by his being there. We had many friends who came to support us that day, many of whom we were surprised to see. But, hands down, having my brother there meant the most. That he would make that effort...that he would know that I needed him...that he would simply come and be there made the biggest difference for me that awful day.

It's funny - I thanked him, but I couldn't find the words to really tell him how much I appreciated his simply being there. It meant the world to me, truly it did. And it reminded me of something. Siblings have such a unique relationship. They share so much: DNA, history, parents, family, holidays. They often fight like no others. Yet they tend to stick up for each other, too. They understand each other's experiences in a way no one else can. So much the same, and yet it can sometimes be such a difficult relationship. And yet, there it is. One of those relationships that once it exists, will always be there.

And there is such value in knowing that some one else, no matter how distant, will always be on your side, have your back. So thank you, dear brother, for having my back when I most desperately needed it, even if I couldn't articulate to you how much I needed it, or how much it meant to me. And may I be able to instill that loyalty and love into my children so that they, too, will always be there in that way for each other.

Today's lesson - the sibling dyad is such an interesting one. Siblings know each other - and their parents - in a way no one else does, or ever will. They have similar, yet different experiences, but nonetheless ones no one else can really ever understand. The sibling relationship is a permanent relationship, one of the few in our lives. It can be difficult at times. It can also be a blessing. Sometimes when we least expect it.

A brief Bailey update

2011-11-09T11:26:00.000-05:00

Several of you have asked about how Bailey is doing. She had her first round of Chemo and got to go home. Unfortunately, she quickly ended up back at the hospital because she got some kind of infection (because of the chemo she's extremely susceptible to infection). Last I heard (Monday), that's where she remains. She's tired and cranky, and not the happy, sweet child her parents have known until now. Of course they are simply happy that she is alive and with them. They are emotionally and physically exhausted. Please, please continue to keep Bailey and her parents in your thoughts and prayers. Asking this of you is, I feel, the only thing I can do for beautiful Bailey and her family.

Today's lesson - sometimes in life we feel so unsure of what to do. Those are probably times when there simply is nothing tangible that we can do. Those are probably the times we should pray, think supportive thoughts, send good mojo, simply release positive intentions out into the universe. Because sometimes that is the only thing to do. Sometimes that is the thing to do.

Another breastfeeding benefit, maybe?

2011-11-08T09:15:00.001-05:00

So, I was conversing with another amazing momma who donated milk for baby E a few weeks ago and something she said has led me to an interesting thought. She was asking how long we're planning on nursing (in a conversational, not judgemental kind of way) and then said she thinks she'll either nurse this baby (her 3rd) forever, or have to keep having babies. Because the oxytocin high is too addictive to give up. She described how she is transported into this blissful state of happiness and not caring what else is going on. It was like talking to an addict, y'all (but not in a bad way).

And that got me thinking. Well, truth be told, first I got all jealous and IF-y and started being pissed off that my body can't do yet another thing the "right" way. And not only can I not get pregnant, or produce enough milk to really feed my baby, but apparently my body can't even make itself feel all high and blissful and crap. UGH!

But then, once I pulled myself together, I started thinking that maybe it actually is doing something pretty cool here. Because here's the thing...people ask me all the time how I function on so little sleep. Really, y'all it really is in about 2hr increments all. night. long. I often get somewhere along the lines of about 4-5 hours of sleep/night, total, and -again - in about 1.5-2hr increments. That's half the amount of sleep I used to get nightly, which was of course all in a row. I usually just shrug this off with a "well, you get used to it and just do what you have to do". But, hubby hasn't gotten used to it (uh, at all, even though he tries, it's usually just easier and faster - and quieter - for me to deal with E). In truth, hubby's tolerance for being up at night is going downhill fast.

Oh yeah, here's the other thing that - for me at least - gives some credence to this hypothesis. In the last month-ish, baby E has been nursing less frequently. And my tolerance level for both boys' difficult behaviors (baby E being up so frequently at night, and the kid not listening/following directions) has gone down. And the amount of sleep I'm getting is the same (not less). So, I think this could mean there's some correlation there.

SO, what if actually the oxytocin is what's helped me not lose it and kill one of my children - or, to be a little less dramatic, just not lose it and yell at baby E at night, or the kid during the day? What if the oxytocin from nursing baby E is actually filling me with some of those calming hormones, to a lesser degree than that milk momma was talking about? What if my body is doing something right? Wouldn't that be awesome! I mean, it seems a long shot, my body doing something right, but I think I'm gonna go with it. Mostly because I need something to go right about now.

Count that as reason one hundred and thirty-five why nursing rocks. Or yet more proof that the benefits of nursing are about much more than just the (albeit numerous) benefits of breastmilk. Or that nursing is also really good for mommas. Yeah, maybe I'll continue nursing baby E forever, too. Or (have to convince hubby to) keep adding more babies to our family.

Today's lesson - babies and mommas are made to nurse. There are benefits of this relationship that science and even mommas have yet to uncover. Also, sometimes our bodies actually come through and don't fail us even when that's what we expect them to do. Oh, yeah. And mommas rock!

The Parent-Teacher Conference

2011-11-06T08:46:00.000-05:00

So, I think I've finally calmed down enough to write about this in a reasonable and rational way. Well, at least enough to write about it. You can be the judge about the reasonable and rational part. (That, and I have access to a computer for the moment - our laptop is with a friend, hopefully being brought back to life).

So, here's what happened. We had a 20 minute time slot. And got started 5 minutes late. Mrs L was in with another set of parents before us and they ran over for whatever reason. No big deal other than we were now down to 15 minutes. So, she started off by asking us if we had any concerns (uh, yeah, Duh). So I told her we were concerned about the continued behavior issues. She totally blew me off by saying, "well, we need to focus on the progress, even though that is an ongoing problem". I was like, "wait, didn't you just start this off by asking if we had any concerns?!". So, I was irritated already.

And then she went over this sheet thing, focusing primarily on academic areas, which is great. Except it wasn't. Because in almost every area on that paper, she said "an area of concern". With the exception of getting along with other children, which she kind of rolled her eyes about and said something to the effect of "of course he does just fine there". Respect = area of concern. Following directions = area of concern. Handwriting = area of concern. And it went on and on and on.

So we've known that the kid doesn't like to write. Fine motor skills have always (since he was an infant) been the area with which he most struggles. He never chose to do it at Montessori, and though he was encouraged, he wasn't made. So he didn't. Same goes for reading (re: his desire to do it). I think the two are related (not wanting to write --> not wanting to work on reading either) and really, I'm paying attention to this because the idea that we could be dealing with some dyslexia or another learning issue is in the back of my mind. But, of course Mrs L had completely dismissed this concern previously so I didn't bring it up again.

All of the other areas of concern, though, they all boiled down to one thing...my kid likes to talk. All the time. Who here is surprised about that?! He talks in the hall. He talks in the classroom. He talks in the cafeteria. He talks all. the. time. And it quite obviously pisses Mrs L off.

So, let me have you guess what she wouldn't talk about...you get 3 guesses and the first 2 don't count. That's right. She wouldn't discuss his behavior. Granted, we'd run out of time, but still. You'd think, with as much grief as she's been giving my kiddo and all those "area of concern"'s, that'd be the first thing she'd want to talk about. (It sure was with me and hubby!) But apparently not.

So, I handed her several resources about red dye (which she'd previously requested), and she - wait for it - rolled her eyes at me. And then said, "oh, look. You brought ME homework. How exciting?!". I mean, not even I could have layered on any more sarcasm. I explained that I'd brought her research from peer reviewed journals, an NPR story, and something from a teacher resource website. She said, "I just can't wait to spend my weekend reading this". I had to sit on my hands so they wouldn't be clenched in fists. Y'all, I was pissed.

So, what's happened since then. Nothin' good. First, we found out she's been having him write sentences as punishment for talking. Hands raised for who thinks this is ridiculously stupid? Here's what makes it even worse. She's taking away part of his recess to do so. And there's a policy in our district that specifically forbids taking away recess from a student as punishment. And, as previously mentioned, he already isn't a fan of writing. So WHY would one make that a punishment???!!!!!! Hubby sent her a really well worded email the beginning of last week, giving her a few suggestions of what might be more effective (take away the social aspect of recess as it's the socialization that's getting him in trouble). Guess what she said? Absolutely. NOTHING.

So, what's next? Tomorrow we ask for another parent-teacher conference, 'cause the first one was so much flippin' fun. Then we go to the principal. I hate to become "those parents", but I don't know what else to do.

Well, actually, we do have one more plan. I have an appointment with the kid's pediatrician on Friday to discuss the possibility of getting a 504 plan. Without getting into technical details, a 504 plan is like an IEP (i.e. special education services) lite. It's relatively easy to get and still sets out specific accommodations the school has to provide. We're hoping to get it based on the red dye thing, but if not, I'm prepared to advocate for a Adjustment Disorder diagnosis because heaven knows my poor baby fits the criteria right now (thankyouverymuch, MrsL).

Yeah. So that's where we stand right now. Things still sucking for my kiddo. And me still pissed. On an up note, hubby is now also pissed. Took the taking away recess thing to do it, but I think it's good that we're both in the same place and can now advocate for our baby with a more unified opinion and front. Here's hoping it works. Because, really, if none of these things do, I really don't know what to do next.

Today's lesson - sometimes intuition can be mistaken as forseeing the future. Sometimes we do know what will happen. It doesn't seem to help in the prevention of the thing, though. Sometimes, even as much as you prepare, and try to figure out how to keep the thing from happening, it still does. And it's damn frustrating.

A Halloween-worthy experience

2011-10-31T06:06:00.024-04:00

I'm not sure if you remember this picture from our trip to Charleston. Who am I kidding? I know you don't remember it. I mean why in the world would you remember it?! Anywho, it's an old plantation house. I know it doesn't look like what I expected a plantation to look like either. The look of the house was disappointing. Though the rest of our experience wasn't at all.

We arrived late, because we got super lost. If you know us, you know how much fun that was since we both love getting lost and all. (Sidebar - I think we've given our child an anxiety disorder related to getting lost. He easily has the best sense of direction in our family, but still freaks whenever we get lost. Gotta ensure that future generations of social worker and therapists have jobs somehow. It's all about each of us doing our own little part in the world. Yay us. Sidebar/tangent over.) So, anyway, the benefit to us having gotten lost, is that by the time we got there the crowds had gone and we had the plantation mostly to ourselves. Super cool. By the time we even got around to looking at the house (just the outside because they asked us not to do the inside tour - lol - because of the kid, which, really, was probably a good call), even the employees were starting to head out.

We were nearly done, and the big boys hit the bathroom before we tried to find our way back to the condo. I had baby E in the ever present Moby. We were walking up to the edge of this little side garden. I was just strolling slowly and quietly. Baby E was silent, maybe even asleep. As I came around the corner and saw the garden, I noticed a women in period clothes sitting on this bench (that the kid is standing on in the picture below). She had on a light pink dress with little flowers on it. Some blond hair peeked out from under her bonnet. She was reading a book, her head bent down, absorbed in her book.

A first I thought she was an employee. But then I realized she wasn't really there. She was there, but not. She was real, but not. She was, but wasn't.

It was such a peaceful moment. Quiet. Calm. Absolutely. Peaceful.

Just then I head the kid come barreling towards me. I turned around to greet him. When I turned back, she was no longer there. Gone.

I didn't say anything to hubby or the kid. I just breathed in the last of the peaceful feeling and walked over the bench, calling the kid, and we took a picture. To remind me of this amazing experience I had.

Today's lesson - mysterious things happen. At least in my world. What about in yours? I'd love to hear your mysterious experience!

Bad days are relative

2011-10-26T10:22:00.000-04:00

It was a rough morning at my house. There was yelling (me) and frustration (me and the kid). There were threats ("if you don't get those shoes on by the time I count to 10, there will be big, bad consequences, mister"). There were tears ("I can't find my socks"). There was muttering under the breath ("OMG!!!!! Why can't this kid get his shit together this morning??!!!!"). There was stomping down the stairs (maybe both of us) and cries of unfairness ("you NEVER wait for ME!!"). There were text messages sent to husbands cussing at them for not doing something just the right way. In short, there were big girl and little boy sized tantrums going on. It was ugly, y'all.

I finally got us all into the car with all of our crap (maybe?!) and I started to have a mini-meltdown (just in my head). You see, I remembered something important. There's a little girl named Bailey. The kid used to go to school with her at his Montessori school. Her mama was one of his teachers when he was a toddler. And this adorable, blonde-headed 4 year and her gentle, beautiful parents have been told that she is riddled with cancer. They just found out this week. She starts Chemo tomorrow. She has tumors throughout her body. It's stage 4. She's 4, people. She still such a tiny little human. And she has stage 4 cancer. On her liver. In her bones. Stage. 4. Cancer.

That is a bad day. Running late for school? Not a bad day. Too fat to fit into any of my clothes? Not a bad day. Can't find socks? Not a bad day. Banana goo on my pants? Not a bad day. Homework not being done just right? Not a bad day. Starbucks gift card out of money? Not a bad day. Your baby having cancer? That is the worst day possible.

So, today, I will try to remember that my bad day, isn't really bad. It's irritating and inconvenient. I have two healthy children. I will not have to watch one of my children undergo chemo. And that makes today a good day.

Today I will pray for little Bailey and for her parents. I would so appreciate it if you would, too.

Today's lesson - Perspective is so easy to lose. Gratefulness is easy to forget. Banana goo is just banana goo. It washes out. Somethings are not so easily undone.

It wasn't exactly what I expected. But that's not necessarily a bad thing.

2011-10-22T22:05:00.001-04:00

Sometimes I overreact. Sometimes I over-think things. Sometimes I imagine things to be more difficult than they need be. It's possible today's visit may have been one of those things. (The kid's parent-teacher conference is not. It really did suck as expected. But that's a post for another day. Mostly because I'm still too irritated to write it right now.)

To start off, we were late. The kid just had to have a nap today, and I - as always - was hesitant to wake him up. I sent L a facebook message, though I don't think they got it til right before we showed up about 45 minutes late. I'm sure this made them a little anxious.

The visit was...interesting. It was easy and friendly, like it had been only a couple of months since we'd seen them, and not almost 3 years. We chatted constantly. And yet...well...it was mostly about... nothing. I don't know what I expected, but - honestly - I think I'm a little disappointed. I think I wanted them ask question after question about the kid. I kept throwing out things - the asthma, his love of swimming/lack of fear of water, the constant talking at school - but it didn't seem like we got a whole lot of a response. I mean, they did comment some (L said her brother has allergy/seasonal asthma which is great to know, and D said he, too, was always in trouble in elementary school for talking). But that was about it. Again, not sure what I wanted to happen, I guess those things to lead to further conversation. They didn't.

So I kinda stopped tossing things out there. And they didn't really ask any questions. I took some pics for them. I thought they might be a good conversation starter. Seems they weren't useful exactly. They did look through the pictures, but the pics didn't lead to any questions or comments.

Now, I don't think it's that they're not interested in the kid. Like, they wouldn't have contacted us if that were the case! And they did seem really happy to see him, to see us all. Maybe they were uncertain about how to proceed also? I'm sure they were. This is a different kind of relationship. It has no rules, no role models. It is relatively uncommon. They've never done it before and it has been a long time sive we've all seen each other. I don't know...

The kid played with his birth sister mostly. They ran around happily, playing tag, bouncing, coloring with sidewalk chalk. They got along great. And there was no talk about what their relationship was. Well, at least not within my earshot. And I have no idea what L and D may or may not have said to their children. Despite all my worrying about this particular thing, it didn't seem to matter.

We left things with both saying we hoped to get together again soon. I so hope that will be the case. Their lives seem to have settled down quite a bit, so hopefully it will be a possibility for them.

At dinner tonight, the kid had some questions, really only about about his siblings. So we gave him the answers to the best of our ability. He hasn't yet asked the question I keep waiting for...why? Why do my brother and sister live with L and D and I live with you? It's coming and I'm not really looking forward to it. I can only hope we'll handle it with grace. I can only hope it, too, will be easier than expected.

Today's lesson - Sometimes things really will be easier than you expected. And you've gotten all worked up unnecessarily. Wouldn't it be nice to have spent that energy on something more useful? Like dusting. Or a game of Go Fish. Or anything really.

Seems like it's actually kind of complicated

2011-10-21T06:14:00.030-04:00

I think I mentioned that we heard from the kid's birth parents a couple weeks ago (after nearly 3 years of no contact at all!!). Well, we have a visit scheduled for this weekend! I'm super excited about it. But I'm a little worried/confused/uncertain about what to say to the kid, how to prepare him.

See, here's the thing... the kid's birth parents didn't share with nearly anyone (actually, as far as we know, absolutely anyone) that they were pregnant and then made an adoption plan for a child. So, this wasn't so much an issue when their 2 other children were younger, because you know, they were, as little kids tend to be, completely unconcerned about who this kid who looked an awful lot like them was and what he was doing in their house every once in a while with his somewhat, uh, paler parents.

But it's 3 years later now. And they're at ages when they're probably going to notice such things. And ask questions. It was one of the reasons we thought they might have disappeared before, because the kids were starting to notice and maybe ask. Now it may not be the case at all, that they'll question our presence and who the kid is, but it certainly would complicate things for them. And it certainly seems likely.

Okay, so what that means is... I don't know what to say to the kid about our upcoming visit. It's entirely possible that their kids won't be there. And that will be really sad for my boy because, let me tell you, that kid wants to meet his bio brother and sister. With baby E having had contact of late with his bio sister, the kid is a bit jealous - and probably confused - that his baby brother has a sister and he does too (in addition to an older brother), but he doesn't know or see her. If the other kids are there, well, the kid isn't going to mince words or time in clarifying for them that he is their brother. I don't want this to complicate things for L and D (assuming they've not told their kids about him). I also don't want the kid to get hurt in the midst of all of it either (as in with someone denying that he is their brother).

I suppose what I ought to do is have a convo with them beforehand so we all have a better idea of what to expect. And geez does that feel uncomfortable, especially after so long of no contact. I mean, they've always been very private people. And I don't want to make them feel uncomfortable either. Or for them to disappear again. Ugh. I was so excited when they contacted us - and truly I still am! - but it certainly is more complicated than I'd anticipated. Funny, because that seems rather naive now, innocent excitement. But I really never stopped to think about the complications, the things that might be difficult or uncomfortable. The possibility that my kid could actually be hurt in all this.

Today's lesson - preparations for a parent teacher conference can be intense. Apparently there is research to be done. Lists of questions to be made. Lists of things to be covered to be made. Arguments to prepare. Counterarguments to anticipate. Laws and policies to read up on. Intense. Oh, wait. Maybe that's just me. Wish us luck, friends, as we walk into the lion's den (aka parent-teacher conference) this afternoon.

To Answer Your Question...

2011-10-18T05:47:00.029-04:00

I love you ladies (all of you, but particularly those who commented on my last post - both here and on FB). You are my people, lol! There's no education necessary for you all about the benefits of doing BLW, because you are already doing/have done it!

Lechelle asked me a question that I wanted to answer. Her question - and I paraphrase - is "do people really do things another way than BLW?!". And the short answer is absolutely yes, they do. Even more so, many professionals - pediatricians and WIC for starters - recommend it. WIC has very specific recommendations about what foods to start when (it used to be yellow veggies, followed by green ones, then fruits, etc... Now, I think, they start with meat, then go to veggies then fruits, with fewer specifiers about colors) and only covers baby food on its vouchers.

It's so interesting to me that the very families who would most benefit from the cost savings associated with feeding babies what you're eating (those who qualify for WIC) are so heavily encouraged to give them manufactured baby food which is infinitely more expensive. I get that many of those families may not have the best nutrition themselves, but, if we spent more time providing them with the information and resources needed to eat healthy themselves, then it wouldn't be an issue. Don't even get me started about how WIC is enabling, even encouraging formula feeding. That's another of my soapboxes entirely.

Confession time - I have been one of those professionals eschewing the importance of feeding babies only baby food, and in that very specific order. I bought what they were selling hook, line, and sinker. For al ong time I didn't take the time to research the reasons behind the recommendations (um, there isn't much). And I know if I (who is a bit obsessed about that kind of thing) don't ask for explanations, many people aren't going to either. While I knew I wouldn't ever be that anal about it all ever again, I didn't expect to cut out baby food completely. If I hadn't totally fallen into that BLW book, I don't know that we would have come into it on our own.

Today's lesson - it's so important to find your tribe, the group of people who truly gets you. These are the people who you don't have to explain yourself to. They're the ones who know where you're coming from. Or if they don't, they simply accept you anyway. They are a blessing. Even if you never meet some of them in the real world.

Update on Babyled Weaning

2011-10-17T05:53:00.000-04:00

So, yeah, remember how I told you I'd let you know all about the babyled weaning? What we were giving baby E to eat, when, how he liked it, whether he choked? All that? Yeah, and I mentioned it the once (or thrice), and, I don't think, ever again. Well, I know he's 1 now and all, but I thought that I'd go ahead and give you the lowdown on how it worked for us, including whether or not it's something we'd do again. So, here ya go.

Babyled weaning is something that we totally fell into, completely by chance. I mean, I was at a local book store, waiting for a flashmob to start, when I happened to look over and see a book on it. I picked it up, as something to leaf through while waiting for the entertainment to start. And I was hooked. It sounded so interesting, and just kinda made sense to me. I was excited for baby E to finally be old enough to give it a go. Which, took a while.

When baby E was approximately 7 months old, we started offering him the foods we were eating. Asparagus, potatoes, apples, carrots, etc... At first, he really just picked it up and kind of "tested" it out, chewing and simply mouthing it. It was probably 6-8 weeks before he finally started eating some. I say it was that long because though the food was going in his mouth before that, it was then before it really started coming out, you know, in his diapers. Even then, it was probably only in the last 2 months that his bowel movements have become truly solid. Before that, they were like breastmilk-only (you know, yellow and pretty liquid-y) with a few chunks thrown in. (What? Was this more detail than you really wanted?! Sorry!)

Somewhere around the 11month mark, once E had a few teeth and seemed to know what to do with them, we added in some meat. This baby is certainly a carnivore! He'll eat anything (except sweet potatoes - HATES those!!!) but he sure loves meat. That, in hindsight, was probably about the time the diapers hit the solid and stinky mark. Yuck.

As far as choking goes, which several people had asked about and/or expressed concern, it's not been an issue. Sure, he's gagged a few times, but he's never actually choked. Now, to me, real choking involves something where I'd have to intervene, or when he experiences some kind of distress (during or after). It hasn't happened. I read where this wasn't supposed to happen, since babies have gag reflexes further forward in their mouths, but I wasn't convinced; we were waiting for the choking to happen. It simply didn't.

There are of course all kinds of great things about BLW. For instance we've allowed him to decide when and what he wants to eat. And, interestingly, he always over the course of a day, makes the choices of a balanced diet. There is no buying of baby food (or the extra expense associated with that). There is no making of baby food (and the extra time associated with that). He simply eats whatever it is we're eating.

Something I've noticed about baby E, is that he has fantastic fine motor skills (another benefit). And I think at least in part this is directly related to BLW. He gets all kinds of practice with those little fingers. This is an area the kid has always struggled with. And I wonder what a difference allowing him all this practice might have made for him. Obviously, too late to know for sure, but this one thing alone has convinced me about BLW.

Today's lesson - babyled weaning is awesome. Give it a shot. It's amazingly easy, simple. And just as messy - or possibly even less so! - than the babyfood on a spoon route. I don't know that I could have given up control in this way with my first baby, but I'm so glad I -we! - did with the 2nd.

My laptop

2011-10-11T13:06:00.000-04:00

My laptop is screwed up. It's a little bit difficult for me to talk about (she says in jest...sort of). Hubby calls my laptop my "favorite baby". And that's not true. Mostly. I do kinda love my laptop. Okay, there, I admitted it. I *may* be slightly addicted to it. More accurately, I really like the constant stream of information I can access via my laptop. I like how quickly I can find things. How nosey I can be (look, I became a social worker partly because I could be nosey for a "good" reason). How I come across all kinds of things (Etsy, Pandora, using donated breast milk!) I never would otherwise. How I come across all kinds of people I never would have otherwise. I like the plugged-in-ness of it.

But, I don't think I'd realized how much time it was taking up. How much time I was using on it. Until it went all wacky on me this weekend. I wasn't on it all day Sunday, and I got tons done around the house. Like - dusting withstanding - my house hasn't been so clean in months. It's made me think about how I spend my time. Hubby has complained more and more over the last several months, how I head straight to the computer as soon as I get home. I mean, I still play with the boys, eat dinner with the family, etc..., but any "free time" is devoted to the computer. I blew him off because, really, between the time he spends watching TV and exercising, he's got no room to talk.

But, the last couple of days, I've realized he has a point. I have been spending a lot of time with my dear laptop. And, as much as I love it, I've also loved the feelings associated with how much cleaner the house is lately. And the increased time I've spent with my boys. All 3 of them. And I'm sure they've also appreciated it.

Last night hubby felt sorry for me, because apparently, after the kid went to bed, I was wondering around looking lost with nothing to do (now that wasn't actually the case, I was deep in thought about something, but whatev'). So he threw me a bone and let me use his ipod to check facebook. It made me happy. But, instead of having it up, where I could check in every 5 or 10 minutes, in between playing with baby E or other tasks, I only checked it a couple of times. So, I played with baby E. And read an interesting book. It was a relaxing, quiet kind of evening. I think I need more of those.

Today's lesson - the Internet is a marvelous place, capable of connecting us to people, places, and things all over the world. However, in some ways it also disconnects us from the people and places and things right in front of us. If we let it.

Birthday Bash - Hungry Caterpillar Style

2011-10-08T13:07:00.000-04:00

So, I'm finally getting around to doing a post about baby E's awesome birthday party. So, here it is, in technicolor!

Here's the banner I told you about that I made (you know, and spelled his name wrong on). Regardless, it was super cute, if I do say so myself. I used my scrapbooking skills to make it with my Cricut, and then had hubby take it to school and laminate it (we're considering doing baby E's room over in the Hungry Caterpillar theme so it would be perfect to use in there). I then hole punched and strung ribbon to put it together and use to hang up in the tree. We also hung a bunch of red and green balloons in the trees.

For the food, we used the book as inspiration. Fruit salad, a regular salad, sandwiches, and the some chips and salsa. I made little signs with the foods the caterpillar ate and then put them (uh, well, to be fair, my bff arranged the table, 'cause she's awesome like that) on the table. We used red and green table cloths, food containers (for them at the dollar spot at Target!), cups, silverware, etc...

We had an art table. Though, honestly, I didn't think the kids would use it much since it was such a beautiful day. But, they totally LOVED it! I think the kid spent at least half the party there! I found white, paper butterflies at some craft store (maybe Hobby Lobby?) and a bunch of bug-themed stickers which I put out, along with some markers and those kids went to town!

Here's my awesome friend, JE, and her awesome (though don't tell him I said that!) hubby, J, with the ah-mazing cakes. She made a main one for all of us, and a smash cake for baby E. The main cake had all of the foods the caterpillar ate all around it. She was shockingly detailed with the cake. Like, I am in awe of her skills.

The smash cake was an orange. She even put little indentations on it to make it look even more like an orange. Oh, the cuteness of it all was beyond adorable!

If you want to know how my dear - and amazingly talented - friend, JE, made this tasty and awesome cake, here's a link to her blog that explains just that. Again, THANK YOU, JE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You're the best. Baby E thinks you rock!

As cute as the cake was, baby E didn't really dive into it like we'd hoped. I think he was tired, and just plain overwhelmed by all the people and commotion. The cake was just one more thing. I think he got more cake on his hands than in his mouth. Actually, if he got more than 2 bites, I'd be surprised. Now, don't think he didn't like it, though, because at home, when I was eating some, he became quite the little beggar.

Here's the birthday boy with his Poppa. He's going through a bit of a Poppa-phase right now. It started at the party. I'm a little sad about this Poppa-phase. Except at night. But, apparently the Poppa-phase doesn't extend into the night. Which really is a tangent for another day.

The opening of the presents was yet another overwhelming experience. The other kids had fun helping him though.

This Superman toy was from the kid, who picked it out just for his baby brother. And baby E loves this present ! Like, it might be his favorite.

We gave baby E a cape, similar to his big brother's. He didn't seem impressed at first, but loved "flying" around with it on, and wore it for quite a long time. My friend Amanda made the capes. Here's a link to where you can buy one if you want for your little superhero-kiddo. You are directed to ignore my 2nd chin in this picture. Ugh.

I purchased this adorable shirt for baby E from Etsy. It was adorable and (fairly) reasonably priced. But, really, the adorableness made the price totally worth it! Here's a link to her facebook page, if you want to see some of the awesome stuff she makes.

The party wouldn't have been possible without several of my girlfriends, their husbands, and my momma. They all helped create, set up, clean up, and capture the day. Thank you friends. Truly, without each of you my life would be much less colorful, more lonely, less creative, and certainly much more boring.

Today's lesson - the relationship between siblings is so interesting. It exists because of the parents, yet it is also exists completely outside of the parents. It is a gift to see siblings so love each other, yet it is a little sad to be excluded from this at the same time. Aren't relationships complicated...

Well, what about that?!

2011-10-07T18:07:00.000-04:00

It's been a good couple of days around here for a variety of reasons (none of those, in case you were wondering, are baby E sleeping well. Just had to throw that out there. Yes, we're still up every 3-4hrs). The best of the reasons (little excited Charlie Brown-type dance), is that the kid's birth parents have contacted us out of the blue on facebook!! SOOoooooooo excited!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It's been a long time - almost 3 years, I think- since we've had any contact with L and D. We had a visit at Christmas a few years ago, but after that, nothing. To be fair, we lost their address, so we couldn't send anything in the mail. But they didn't answer/respond in any way when we tried to call their phones, which we've done several times. It's certainly possible their phones were off some of that time. We'd assumed they'd changed #s and so haven't even tried in probably the last year. Who knows just what was going on. At any rate, I *knew* they'd pop back up eventually and now they have!

We're hoping to get together in a couple of weeks and so looking forward to it!

On a completely different note, I promise to finally get you that Hungry Caterpillar birthday post this weekend. My dear friend, M, took some fabulous pics for us so you're in for a treat!

Today's lesson - when your 5 year old tells you you're not going to like what the baby is doing, he's probably right. Also, even the social worker's baby sometimes eats out of the garbage. These two lesson may be related...

Sometimes...

2011-10-04T05:57:00.000-04:00

Sometimes things are not as good as they seem from the outside. Sometimes things fester, stew, grow and grow until there's nothing left for them to do but boil over, explode, causing damage in their wake.

Sometimes grief is like that. It sits just under the surface, often ignored until it can be no more. It explodes for a reason that has nothing to do with the origin of the grief itself, onto an unexpecting person who has no idea it's coming. Often the griever him or herself also has no idea its coming. He or she believes the grief to be under control, or perhaps has been working so hard at ignoring it, he or she has - at least momentarily - forgotten it's there. So when the explosion happens, it's an unwelcome and disturbing surprise to the griever and the recipient. The griever often feels immense guilt, though may or may not be willing to do something to rectify the harm he or she has caused.

This is sometimes how grief works. But it's not healthy. Especially when there are children around. Especially when the children are the unexpecting recipients of the explosion. It's one thing when adults are the recipents, because, as adults, we are able to rationalize and process the reaction for what it is - a part of grief. As adults, we are able to justify, explain, try to understand.

But, when children are the collateral damage, things are different. Children need us to be consistent. They need to know what to expect from us, how we will respond in a given situation. They need to trust that we are safe for them. But when we lose it on them, for seemingly minor reasons, their worlds come tumbling down. Their lives are no longer safe, but are scary and uncertain. Children already have control over very little in their lives. They trust that we will have control. They need to believe that if nothing else, we will be in control of ourselves. To live in a world where that doesn't exist, is absolutely terrifying for a child. And it alters them permanently. And it is not okay.

Today's lesson - Grief is not quick. It's slow and comes in stages. But if ones tries to "just get over it and move on", it can be harmful to the griever, and those around him or her. Take your time. Let it come as it must. Feel it. Then deal with it. Grief must happen like this. Just "getting over it" isn't possible. It must be felt and processed.

Snore, cough, sniffle, repeat...

2011-10-02T06:39:00.000-04:00

I feel crummy. A cold has got me. And baby E, too. His sleep, which had been up to 7-9 hours a night (that's right, people, MY baby was sleeping that long!!!) is back to him being up every 2-3hours, or even less. Now, to be fair, the 7-9hrs only lasted for about 2 weeks - probably 10 out of those 14 nights - but good lord was it glorious. And then to have it taken away again...major suck. Devastating I tell you. I'm pretty sure hubby and I are crankier than we were a month ago, even though we're getting the same amount of sleep now as we were then. It's like our bodies remembered about sleep, and have been like "oh, hell no you're not going to take that away again!!!!!". Yeah, so good times.

On the positive side, baby E and I participated in the World Breastfeeding Challenge yesterday, which was fun. Last year we did, too, and he was such a tiny little peanut (less than 2wks old) and by far the youngest of the bunch. So, this year, to be there again, and to be one of the older ones, it was pretty cool. And it felt like a milestone. Like a moment of success. I kind of teared up. Though that might have also been because I'm so tired. And feeling sickly.

Then, I briefly spoke with A, who I talked about HERE (briefly, she's the reason I knew breastfeeding an adopted baby was even possible). It was great to see her again! She said the funniest thing that reminded me how far we've come. She, too, is nursing her child (who joined their family through adoption), but her daughter is now 3 (I think). And she - who was as determined to nurse as I was, though maybe even more! - said she is done with nursing and just wishes her daughter would stop. It was a beautiful thing for us to be able to laugh about this. What a normal feeling, to be ready for your 3yo to stop. But it's one I'm pretty sure neither of us ever thought we would experience.

Here's a picture from last year's event. See what I mean about him being so very tiny. Oh my word. It makes me want another even more! Hopefully soon I'll have a pic from this year's event to share :)

Today's lesson - in parenting, it is necessary to expect the unexpected. Or you'll just go crazy. In other words, just go ahead and accept that you have very little control. You'll be happier that way. Seriously. And not crazy. Which seems like a good thing.

Logic

2011-10-01T06:19:00.002-04:00

I came across this quote on a blog somewhere today (oh, how I wish I could remember and give it's author due credit!!). It spoke to me in such a beautiful way. It articulated something for me in such a simple manner, something I'd been unable to say. So I thought I'd share.

The desire to be a parent "...is simply the desire to experience incredible love for another... don’t chalk that up to logic".

This perfectly explains my reason for wanting baby # 3. I know, I know. Baby E is hardly 1! And he's barely begun to sleep through the night. And where would that money come from. And. And. And. The reasons not to add another child to our family are perfectly reasonable and logical. And there are plenty of them.

But here's the thing. There are - will be - always reasons not to do it, not to add another baby to our family. Logic can be used to justify nearly anything. However, the heart, well, as the old adage says, the heart wants what it wants. And that simply isn't logical. Nor can it be made so.

And I wonder how our experience with infertility has played into this. I have always wanted to be a momma. Always. I mothered other people's children from the time I can remember. I played with my cabbage patch kids for probably much too long (long enough that I did it in secret from friends because I knew they were probably no longer playing with theirs). I was babysitting when I was barely in double digits. I pretended to nurse my dolls. All the time. I love kids. Always have.

But I wonder whether this was even further intensified by how we had to fight to get them. I wonder if part of why I want more babies is because all I've done my whole life is want them and how do you just walk away from that?! Especially when it took so long, so much effort, so many tears, so much heartbreak. And has led to so much joy...

Today's lesson - when the head (logic) and the heart (feelings) conflict, you must decide which will prevail. And it's not an easy thing to do. And that's when the gut steps in. Always listen to the gut. It seems to be the best judge.

World Milksharing Week - Weston's Story

2011-09-29T05:48:00.000-04:00

While all the mommas who chose to give us milk are incredible beings, for some, it is a more difficult thing to do. You may remember when I talked about this special momma who gave baby E some milk. This is her story...

Weston was born April 2, 2011. He came home 6 days later and he was a very healthy baby. He was very advanced for his age already lifting his head up and turning from his stomach to back all before 2 months. But sadly on June 12^th, 2011 he passed away. That day will forever be the worst day of my life. Shortly after we got home from the hospital we got a phone calling asking if we wanted to donate his heart valves. I knew instantly that I wanted to donate them but I knew I needed to talk to my husband. After only a few minutes we knew we wanted to donate them.

For over a week we stayed with my parents because going into our house was too hard. When we finally went back to our house I opened the freezer and saw what was well over 100 oz’s of frozen breast milk. I just knew instantly I wanted to donate it and that Weston would want me to donate it. My husband thought it was a great idea but that I should wait till I was truly ready. I had no idea it would be a month before I was finally okay to let it go and to give it to another precious little boy.

The day Becky came she brought her son who would be getting Weston’s milk . He was so cute and sweet and I even got to hold him and that gave me the strength to do what needed to be done and to donate my milk (Weston’s Milk) so that this precious little boy could have the best nutrition he could possibly have. I hope that one day I can share my milk again but under better circumstances. And sometimes I even wish that after Weston passed I had continued pumping so I would have had even more milk to share. But in the end I did not do that but I am glad that I did have a lot of milk to share.

Rachael, Weston's amazing momma, is working so hard to honor Weston's memory (and she's doing it beautifully!). If you're interested in learning more about what she's doing (a 5k, a balloon release, and so much more!), check our HERE and HERE for more information and/or to donate.

Today's lesson - The human spirit is amazing. Always tragedy teaches us things about ourselves. Sometimes it gives us a new focus. Sometimes it allows us to become acquainted with a part of ourselves - a good part - that we didn't know was there. While we will likely always wish the tragedy had never happened, sometimes even so, good can come from it.

Birthday Blunders

2011-09-28T06:07:00.007-04:00

I had planned to have a post up already about baby E's awesome birthday party Sunday, complete with fantastic pictures. Well, that would have happened, had two things occurred - 1. baby E decided to go to bed at a reasonable time any of the last few nights, and 2. I gotten a substantial number of adorable pictures on my camera. Since baby E hasn't been going to sleep til nearly 11, and I only have pictures of the first part of the party, you're outta luck. At least for now. My dear friend, Ms M took tons of pics with her fancy camera, plus I'm gonna steal some from my mom's FB. So, rest assured, tomorrow (or Friday at the latest), you can experience through pictures the adorableness that was baby E at his Hungry Caterpillar party.

But, since I can't share with you all the things that went super well, I thought I'd tell you about some of the snafus that happened. Because I can laugh at myself as well as the next girl. So feel free to also giggle...

In general... there were people who showed up who weren't invited. And no explanation - or heads up - was given about their presence (by the person who they came with, who was invited). Also, some people showed up 1.5hrs late to a party scheduled to last 2hrs. Bringing food (which was very nice), but we'd already eaten, like an hour before. You know, because they were 1.5hr late. Also no explanation about their tardiness.

I'd planned on tying together 1 red and 3 green balloons and hanging them from the trees (did I mention the party was outside?), you know, to look like caterpillars. Um, well, that didn't work out so great. Because, well, you can really only tie together 2 balloons. I felt a bit stupid. But, whatever, we ended up hanging them in the trees with ribbon and it looked kinda neat.

And, here was the best part. I made this absolutely adorable banner of E's name, with 1 letter per circle/part of the caterpillar's body. I put it together late 1 night and was just glad it was done and was super cute. So, when I got the party, I hung it up in a tree, which looked fantastic. And then I went on getting everything else set up. A bit later I noticed a couple of friends standing in front of the banner, talking with their heads close together. I quickly realized they weren't just talking about how cute it was. So I walked over and very suddenly realized that I spelled my baby's name wrong. Yes, I did. I juxaposed two letters and spelled his flippin' name wrong. Parenting FAIL.

These, however, I did not do late at night. Or by myself. I have some fabulously creative friends who helped (particularly with the invitation). So, there ya go. A fun little preview of what's to come!

Today's lesson - something things should not be done late at night, when you're completely exhausted. Like spelling.

Happy Birthday baby E

2011-09-25T06:42:00.002-04:00

My Sweet baby E-
I can hardly believe that today is your first birthday. I can hardly believe you are a year old! I can hardly believe you have been my sweet son for a year. It's amazing to me. You are amazing.

You have changed so much in a year. Of course you have. A year ago you were gooey, and confused, and super brand new. Now you're 1! You've learned to run and say some words. Hearing "momma" come out of your mouth fills my heart. You're trying to climb and I don't know what to do with that! Your brother has never been a climber. There's no telling what you're going to get into. You love music and to dance. Oh, but you have some rockin' moves!

So much in our lives has changed in the last year. I used to sleep a lot more. And now I cuddle a lot more. I used to have much less patience. Now I have a lot more joy. I used to watch a lot of TV in the evenings. Now I sit and laugh at your antics. I used to weigh 20lbs less. Now my heart is more full than I could imagine possible. I used to give the kid my undivided attention. Now, I watch him share it happily with you. I used to have a lot more time for my friends and scrapbooking. Now I happily get gooed on with every kiss you give me. I used to hear a lot more quiet. Now I hear a lot more giggling. I used to cuss a lot. Now, well, I still cuss a lot. Hey, not everything has changed.

Baby E, because of you, I now know about cloth diapers, and milksharing, and parenting 2 kids, and that I can live on very little sleep (for a year!), and what persistence looks like in a very little person. Because of you, I know love in a different way. Because of you, I am a better mother, a better social worker, a better person.

Thank you baby E, for being my son. Thank you, R and D, for creating this beautiful person. Thank you for choosing life for him. Thank you for choosing us to be his forever family. Thank you will never be sufficient.

Love,
Momma

Today's lesson - parenthood offers frequent opportunities for growth, chances to learn things about yourself you may never have known, opportunites to become less selfish, more loving, a better person. Parenthood is hard, but so very worth it. What a gift it is.

World MilkSharing Week - Julie's Story

2011-09-24T06:23:00.018-04:00

Today you are getting a treat - a guest post from, Julie, who was one of our first, and is now our most frequent milk donor. We love, LOVE Julie. She's so generous, open, and fun! So, here she is...

My name is Julie and I am a milk momma to baby E. Becky asked me to write a guest post for her blog about milksharing from the donor’s perspective for World Milksharing WeekJ I’ll start with how I came to have an excess amount of milk to be able to donate: I thought (as I’m sure many mommas do) that I might not be producing enough milk for my baby (L) so at about 2 weeks I started pumping to increase my supply and increase it did! Then, when my deep freeze started filling up with breastmilk I wasn’t sure what to do with it.

One night while on The Bump I read about Eats on Feets [now known as Human Milk for Human Babies/HM4HB] and decided to do some research. I was thrilled to learn that I could possibly find a local momma that wanted my extra milk for her baby! I posted on our state's page that I had extra milk and right away Becky responded that she wanted it.

At that point I was nervous and excited…I worked hard for that milk and I wanted to make sure it went to a good family. I remember reading her blog about her family and donor milk and crying because I was so happy to be able to be a part of it. The first transfer was like a mini first date with some questions and answers on both parts. Transfers since then have been very quick and sometimes done by my brother (except for one time when we nursed our baby boys at the same time which I thought was beautiful)J

Milksharing makes me feel very warm inside, like I’m making someone’s life better. I feel so lucky to be able to help a fellow momma give her baby the best because I too believe that breast is best. I feel a special connection to Becky and baby E and find myself very protective of my extra milk (meaning I never have more than a few sips of beer because I do not want to pump and dump). I hope that milksharing becomes more popular so that more babies get the chance to have the best because sometimes… it takes a village!

Today's lesson - There are so many wonderful people in the world. We never know when we may meet them, or under what circumstances. Thank you, Julie, for being one of those people in our lives. It does indeed take a village, and you are one of the awesome villagers in ours.

P.S. Julie - I, too, loved when we nursed our boys at the same time. It is one of the few times I've nursed together with another momma. And to do so with you, whose milk was feeding baby E - it was feeding both of our boys at the same time - was amazing! Also, hubby says to feel free to take a few extra swings of beer (or an Ambien) if it'll help baby E sleep through the night ;)

A Word about Attachment Parenting

2011-09-21T17:10:00.000-04:00

Ohhhhhh, attachment parenting (AP). It's a dirty phrase to some people, even many people in my "line of work". It's equated with hippies. It's assumed to be anti-mother working outside of the home. It's seen as uneducated and old-fashioned. It's simply not what the parents of my generation are doing these days.

Or is it?

You know, it's funny how things can change in just a few short years. How, really, one's whole parenting philosophy can change. Because, sisters, that's really what happened to us.

With the kid, we were scheduled, not to specific times, but things certainly happened in a particular order. Things happened based on when WE thought they needed to. Not so much what the kid's cues were telling us he needed. What? You ate an hour ago? You can't be hungry again. It's time for sleep. Go to sleep. Now, as I've said before, he kind of scheduled himself early on, but we certainly encouraged that, probably sometimes to the point where we really did ignore his cues. We also - very briefly - tried CIO, though it absolutely didn't work.

Now, I certainly have always subscribed to the whole "babies cry for a reason, and even if that reason is the desire to be held, that need is as important as the need to be fed or have a diaper changed" thing. Also, I did a little carrying the kid around in a sling when he was really little, but there was infinitely more stroller using going on. But, other than that, we were not really what you'd call an attachment parenting kind of family.

So, what is attachment parenting? I'm so glad you asked. Here are a couple of good references for your information and reading pleasure. THIS is a general "what/how-to" of AP. And THIS is a "why" is AP important kind of resource.

AP boils down to a simple yet complex concept - being attentive and responsive to baby's cues. In my opinion, the primary aspects of AP are breastfeeding on demand, co-sleeping (whether baby is actually in your bed, or just in the room), baby wearing, and responding to cries and cues immediately. Though, really, the last one pretty much says it all. If I'm aware of and responsive to all of baby's cries and cues, I will breastfeed on demand. And co-sleeping and baby wearing simply make that responding promptly easier.

I'm not sure how we ended up doing AP, but that sure is where we are now. I think it came slowly, really, and logically. It just makes sense to me. And, even more than that, it feels right to me. Though hubby was, I think, hesitant at first, I pulled him along, as is our pattern. But he's now full in. Matter of fact, we were having a conversation the other day about someone who is super Type A and very much all about scheduling everything with her now 2 month old baby. It was so funny to hear him rail against the schedule, and talk about the importance of following babies' cues, not some stupid schedule. I admit I fell a little more in love with him at that moment.

So why do we do it? Because it makes for a happy baby. And a happy baby makes for a happy momma, poppa, and family. A happy baby is one who knows that his needs will be met, even if that need is to be held. And he doesn't have to cry a lot, because he knows his parents will respond to his early cues and meet his needs. People often comment about what a happy baby E is, how rarely he cries. And that's true. He really does rarely cry. Like hardly at all during the day at least. And at night, when he does cry, it's because we're not being responsive to those cues and needs. It's because we're frustrated and not empathetic. As soon as I turn that empathy back on, the cries immediately subside. Now, obviously some of that is a nature issue, like that's just his personailty. But I like to think some of it is a nurture issue, too, that we're doing something right.

Today's lesson - Attachment Parenting is about empathy. A parent taking the time to empathetically parent her/his child. Because that empathy we show our children, it teaches them how to be empathetic to others. And unfortunately, when we don't show our children empathy, it's a skill they don't learn to use in their interactions with others. And, for the love of all things holy, wouldn't we live in a much better world if we all were a little more empathetic towards the people around us.

Weaning?

2011-09-19T06:35:00.000-04:00

I've been asked several times recently, as we approach baby E's 1st birthday, if we're going to start weaning. The short answer is no. We're not. The medium answer is, we're going to go as long "as is mutually desired" as the CDC and WHO recommend, though really because that's what I want to do.

The long answer is this: I plan to nurse for at least 6 more months, and we'll go as long after that as I/we still have milk, and baby E wants to. I think another year would be fabulous. I can't even imagine weaning my baby now. He's just as much a baby today as he will be 2 weeks from now, after his 1st birthday. It makes no sense to me to wean him, just because he's a year old. It's not like he simply is no longer a baby that day. Also, it's not like - as a pediatrician unfortunately told someone I know last year - the benefits of breastfeeding and breastmilk simply stop just because a child hits that 365 day mark in life. Such an ignorant remark to make. The immunological benefits continue. The bonding benefits continue. The health benefits to mom (hello decreased risk of breast cancer?!) continue.

Baby E loves to nurse. When I get home in the evenings, regardless of when he's last eaten, he almost always wants to nurse within my first half hour home. He follows me around the house, whining, til I figure out that's what he's asking for. He grabs my finger and walks to the kitchen with me while I fill up the SNS, and then reclaims my finger and walks with me to the couch. Whining and giggling while I get settled, ready to nurse him. So, of course we will continue.

And, you know what? I love nursing baby E. I love the closeness of it. I love the snuggling. I love the way he stops, and grins up at me with this funny, drooly smile, used only when we're nursing. I love the contended sighs he utters. The way he pats my chest and wiggles with joy when he's done. I love that sometimes he stops and growls at me and we have our own little growling conversation, just the two of us. I love this world that's just me and my baby E. So, of course we continue.

We fortunately still have milk donors who also recognize the benefits of so-called "extended breastfeeding" (which, really, I think is a silly term, but whatev') and are willing to continue to give us milk. So of course we will continue to accept this liquid gold and use it to keep our baby so very healthy.

I don't know for sure when we will stop nursing. I hope it's not for a long time. But, it will be whenever baby E is ready to stop. He has decided when he is ready to meet all of his other developmental milestones. He will decide when he is ready to meet this one as well. Until then, we continue to nurse. And I'm thrilled about it.

I know some mommas at this point are more than ready to stop. They want their bodies back, they're tired of having babies attached to them all this time. But, really, they have 9 months more than I've had of having a baby attached to me. I missed out on that initial closeness, so I'm going to take advantage of the closeness on this end of it as long as baby E wants.

Today's lesson - "extended breastfeeding" is actually the norm around the world. Stopping at a year really makes no sense, unless it is what both momma and baby want. Absolutely, there are valid reasons women have for weaning at this time, or earlier, but the errant belief that there are no longer any benefits to baby shouldn't be one of them.

This week has been...

2011-09-17T21:34:00.000-04:00

... long. Baby E has been feeling sickly (I think it's teeth?) and work has been... not even sure the right word for that. Brutal, maybe? Disappointing for sure. Things are about to change big time there and change is always hard. Also, I'm not sure these changes are going to be good for me or my family. So, I'm job searching. Again. Sigh...

But there have also been awesome things this week. The kid seems to have hit upon some kind of understanding of what the expectations are at school and has had a pretty super week. Mostly all "green" days. Thank the lord for that. He's been awesomely behaved at home as well. I think part of this is that his asthma symptoms again seem to be under control so he's sleeping better. Fall often seems to be a difficult time for him. Remember THIS, when he was biting? Yeah. Early fall's not that kid's season.

Also, baby E - and seriously I'm terrified to put this out there - has now slept through the night and in his bed for 3 nights straight. Now, I'm going to go ahead and asssume it's 'cause he's not feeling well and we've given him some Motrin (which I don't really like doing, but he seems miserable without it!). So, probably today, since he's feeling better and we didn't give the motrin to him, he'll be up all night again. Hopefully not. But probably. I'm happy I got those 3 awesome nights at least.

So, I'm grateful for this weekend. As we recover from baby E being whiny and clingy for several days, and prepare for bad work news on Monday, I am grateful for a weekend of play dates with new friends, wonderful friends who borrow the kid for a trip to a corn maze, a chance to prepare for baby E's birthday next weekend (right?!! Can you believe he'll be 1 next week?!??!! I can't!!!!), and just some down time.

Today's lesson - a year in some ways is a very short amount of time. Like the year between when your baby is born, and when he turns 1. But a year in some ways, is ever so long. Like the year before you know that baby will be born. Time is such a funny thing. You really don't ever know what it will bring. And while that year can be impossibly long, it can at the same time be impossibly short. Funny how something can be both a thing, and it's opposite all at once...

Full of Awesome

2011-09-14T06:32:00.004-04:00

A friend posted this article on facebook and I loved it! The premise is that when we're kids, we wake up in the morning, convinced of our own awesomeness. And, really, more than convinced of our awesomeness, we just don't question that it exists. We wake up with messy hair, missing teeth, funky breath, mismatched clothes, and scuffed up shoes...and we know we rock. There is no question. And then, as time goes on, we start to doubt that awesomeness. We get messages from others, both those who we barely know and those who we love dearly that we are less than awesome. We get messages from the media that our perceived awesomeness is not even close. We doubt. And that doubt turns ugly sometimes and we lose all aspects of that awesomeness. We forget that we used to be so certain, so confident.

It's not that the awesomeness is gone. It's just that we forget it was ever there. And that is unbearably sad.

I see my kid just starting to forget some of his awesomeness. The doubt is inching its way in. I hear it in the hurt in his voice when he talks about how a kid in his class said his shirt was ugly. I see it in his eyes when he talks about how he was on "yellow" all day at school but he doesn't know why. I feel it in the hesitation he has just started to display when approaching other children.

And it's breaking my heart. And I don't know what to do about it.

This child, who is such a light in my life - and the lives of so many others - is starting to doubt that light, his inherent awesomeness. He is forgetting, or having sucked out of him, that he is full of awesome.

And maybe it's just what happens. But maybe it's what is happening to him at school. Because it's only been since he started school this year that I have seen this change in him, a change I've only now been able to articulate. People around me (important people in my life, and my kid's life), keep dismissing my feelings that this public school thing isn't working. Because they love him, too, I keep pushing my doubt back down, ignoring my momma gut. But those feelings keep coming back up.

It is not okay for my kid to forget that he is full of awesome. And I can tell him - and I do. But I'm only me, only one person, albeit an important person in his life. But just my telling him simply isn't enough. And I don't know what is.

I mean, seriously, how full of awesome is he??!!

Today's lesson - Parenting is hard. And sometimes the hard comes in the most unexpected ways/places.

The Night from...

2011-09-12T13:45:00.001-04:00

Yeah, well, by the end of this post, I'm sure you'll be able to fill in that blank for me.

Here's how my night went...

About 8:30, momma thinks to herself and probably says out loud, "Well, this baby has got to be tired, he didn't really nap this afternoon. Time for bed, mister. And no repeats of last night when it took you 2 hours to get to sleep".

Baby E, looks very innocently at momma, "sure. I'd be happy to oblige. There's just one little thing. Uh, well, I don't wanna."

Momma, looks sternly at baby E, "well, it is bedtime, sir, and you will go to sleep."

Baby E, smiles beatifically, "of course, momma, I love you and will always do whatever you ask, happily and without complaint". (snickers to himself)

Momma nurses baby E. Then rocks him. Baby E is trying to tell momma something, incessantly babbling; she is unable to understand so continues rocking.

That's not working, so she lays him in his bed (tell me, why am I writing this in 3rd person? Oh well...) . The fussing starts. Poppa comes in and the SCREAMING commences. Good times.

There's patting, then rocking, then he finally falls asleep (about an hour later). Momma feels not too bad about the whole thing, she was obviously successful in getting him to sleep in less time than it took the night before. She goes to read a book before going to sleep.

Baby E, however, has other plans. He wakes up screaming after about 45 minutes of sleep. And pretty much doesn't stop for - ready - 2 hours. It was not awesome. At all.

He screams and he screams and he screams. Nothing works. Until finally something does (I don't remember but I'm guessing it was rocking in combination with exhaustion that finally won). Momma, who is exhausted herself by this time as it is 12:15am, simply puts him in bed with her.

He wakes up about an hour later. And then every 30 to 45 minutes thereafter. All. Night. Long. This was the epitome of not awesome.

So, obviously something is wrong with him. He does appear to have another bottom tooth coming in. It seems odd to me that that would be the problem when none of the other 4 caused such issues, but who knows?!

Also, we had sweet potatoes for dinner last night. He didn't have much because he didn't like them (which was odd because 1. what baby doesn't like sweet potatoes, and 2. This kid eats anything including sweet potatoes, which he's had before). I remembered in the middle of the night, while he was passing gas, that it seems like we also had a rough night - though not this rough! - the last time he had sweet potatoes. Then again, all that screaming might have led to gas. So, who flippin' knows.

Good thing is we both had a couple hour nap on the couch this morning and he (knock on wood) is having another one (in his bed) as we speak. Please, Lord, let this be a long nap. Momma needs a break from this whiny, clingy boy who woke up this morning.

Today's lesson - It's a good thing babies come out being so cute and lovable, wrapping us around their little fingers shortly after they're born. Because if they didn't, there would certainly be more child abuse in the world.

9/11

2011-09-10T07:30:00.002-04:00

This post has been bouncing around in my head for days, really weeks. I've know I had something to say about the 10th anniversary of September 11th, 2001...I just didn't know what it was. I'm not sure I do even now, so we'll just see what comes out.

I've had several conversations with (work) clients in the last week about 9/11. One of those was with a family who has 3 kids ranging in age from 10 to 16. None of them, of course, remembers 9/11. The youngest, though, is apparently interested and has goo.gle searched some info. So, we were talking about it, you know, just basic info (how many planes, where they went down, etc...) and I was struck by the realization that to these kids, 9/11 is just like the assassination of Kennedy is to me, or Pearl Harbor is to my mom.

9/11 is one of those monumental events that I will always remember. I know - just like you probably do - exactly where I was when I heard of the first, second, third, and then fourth planes going down. I watched the news, first in disbelief, then simply astounded and horrified, for days. It seemed like there was nothing else I could do. It was a moment where, as a country, we were united - albeit in horror and sadness and anger. We lost our innocence and the belief in our safety. It was such a common experience.

Yet to these kids, it's just something that happened. I remember feeling completely disconnected from the events of Pearl Harbor, or Kennedy's assassination, or any number of things I read about it my school history books. I had a conversation with my grandmother one time about the Japanese internment camps that were set up in the US during WWII. I asked my grandmother why they had allowed the internment camps to exist (she replied that that's just how things were then - still not a really a satisfactory answer, btw). I was totally interested in them, but I never stopped to think about what that time felt like, personally, for my grandmother - the fear that existed. I am afraid that my children will feel that way, too, about 9/11. Because I can already see that children do feel that way...there is a general curiosity but no emotional connection.

So I wonder... what can I do to make 9/11 real for my children. Or should I. I know they will (unfortunately) have events such as this that happen during their lifetimes that will teach them this same lesson. Should I allow them to learn of the events, without having to experience the emotions and grief that those of us who do remember carry with us. History isn't comprised of things that just happened. History is comprised of things that happened to people. And this, this horrible day, happened to all of us.

And yet 9/11 wasn't completely a common experience. I wasn't there. No one I know was there. I didn't lose anyone I love. And that, I think, is the reason I have had such a difficult time articulating this post. Some part of me has felt like I don't have the right to still be affected by what happened that day. My loss was not nearly as profound as the losses of those who were there. The loss of life...the loss of friends and family and co-workers...the intense loss of feeling secure and safe in your home/city... But, still I grieve and am sad for all we all lost that day. And for all those who we have lost since.

Today's lesson - a wise woman once told me "pain is pain". There are no gradations of pain and no person's pain is more important than another's. Pain is pain. 9/11 left us with a collective experience, and a collective pain. People of NYC, DC, and PA, please know that we stand with you. Your pain is our pain and though life continues, we continue to grieve with you. Sending love and light to those who need it today.

What a change a year makes.

2011-09-08T06:14:00.005-04:00

Oh my sweet baby E. I can hardly believe it's been a year since we first learned of the possibility of you. I was not in a good place when all that happened. We'd been waiting nearly a year and a half - and it was not a wait I had expected at all. I was feeling like you would never come. I couldn't understand why things were taking so long. And I had lost much faith. And hope. Yeah, I had almost given up hope completely. The thought that we would only be a family of three was making me sad. The thought that the kid would never get to be a big brother was impossibly sad. The thought of never cuddling my own sweet baby again brought me to tears.

And then there was you. A phone call I made, gave me a glimmer of hope, that started to burn brighter and brighter. Until there you were. Or at least there was the possibility of you. There are no words to describe how life has changed since that day a year ago. That day started out sad and frustrating and lacking in hope, but ended with light, and possibility, and the beginnings of joy. And, as I think about it, that light, is such a good metaphor for you. Because you are a light in my life. You are such an incredible light in the life of our whole family.

Thank you baby E, for being such a sweet light. And thank you, R, for choosing us to parent this incredible being.

Today's lesson - Hope is a magical thing, never lost forever. It is always there, waiting to be found, waiting to be allowed back in. It's a matter of seeing it, though it may not necessarily be in the form you expected it to be. Hope, sometimes, takes some creativity to see. Hope is not a finite resource. But is, instead, free flowing and abundant. If only you can recognize it.

Late Emails Suck

2011-09-05T22:10:00.000-04:00

And the Kindergarten drama continues. Friday, the teacher sent home a (IMO poorly worded) letter stating that she would be contacting some parents this weekend via phone to discuss their children's "continued problems" making good choices in the classroom. So, we were just waiting for our phone call to come. But it didn't. And we were shocked, and more than a little relieved. But then - just now @ 9:30pm on Monday - we've gotten an email. The kid - of course - is one of the children who is having "continued problems". Apparently the teacher just realized she'd left her phone# list at school. So she's emailing instead. A form letter that really provides no additional information that would be helpful for us at all (i.e. what kinds of behaviors he's exhibiting).

So, here's the thing. I'm not surprised that he's having a hard time, but I'm seriously disappointed. And - total honesty - I'm embarrassed.

I know my child. I expected him to have difficulty adjusting to public school. I mean, really, the poor kid (and only according to him, because we've gotten nothing from the teacher at all) has gotten on "red" (the "bad" end of the behavior chart that all the kids use in the classroom) for a couple of times for talking in the hallway. Now, I get why they need kids to be quiet and in control while in the hallways. But, getting "red" for that, I think, is flat out stupid. And he's not used to having to be quiet; it's never really been a behavioral expectation. And, hell, he's never quiet - even when he's sleeping (he talks frequently and occasionally sings in his sleep). But I get that he needs to learn to be that way sometimes. Heaven knows I'd like a little quiet around here on occasion...

But, I'm frustrated with what I feel are inappropriate expectations of the children (something I've been concerned about since before he started). And I'm frustrated that we've had no communication from the teacher prior to now. And yes, I've attempted contact her, but have gotten no response. And honestly I'm frustrated that my kid can't just do what expected of him (and, yes, I realize that's contradictory considering I think the expectations are inappropriate). And I'm frustrated that I can't figure out what I, as his parent, needs to do to help him acclimate (though I also realize that he is responsible for his own behavior and I can only do what I can do). And, mostly, just UGH.

I can't even express how much I miss his Montessori school. I miss the appropriate expectations of the children. I miss the respect that everyone - children and parents alike - is afforded. I miss knowing what the hell is going on with my child. I miss the child who talked about how much he loved his school. I miss the child who wanted to go to school. I miss the child who smiled when talking about school. I miss feeling good when I drop him off. I miss knowing his needs - emotional as well as academic - are being met. I miss it.

Today's lesson - There are times when being a grown-up sucks. There are times when all you want to do is whine, and throw a big ugly tantrum and tell people they're not being fair. And these are the times when you have to put on your big girl panties, don your big girl attitude, and come up with the words that are not only true, but are ones that others can hear.

I'm no weeks and I'm craving nothing.

2011-09-03T20:00:00.000-04:00

It's been awhile since I talked at all about infertility. Which is interesting because for some reason it's been on my mind a lot lately. And popping up, causing some issues. I guess I haven't really know how to articulate it, or even had enough clarity of what's going on in my head to even start putting words to it. And then this whole "I'm _____ weeks and I'm craving ____" thing on facebook started up. And it has me seriously irritated for a couple of reasons.

First, what the hell does it have to do with breast cancer awareness?! ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!! If your aim is to educate people about breast cancer (though, honestly, who doesn't know about it?! Not that that means we should stop talking about it, of course, but let's not pretend like it's something people haven't heard about), then how about talking about mammograms, or donating to research, or how our overall health affects our risk of developing it. How about talking about what we can do to support the women (and men!) who are living with it right now. Let's not pretend like we're pregnant. Because that has absolutely nothing to do with breast cancer.

But, and here's my big issue with this - how do you think it feels to those of us who live with infertility every day to see all of these "pregnancy" announcements?! Seeing real ones can, for some of us, be enough of a kick in the gut. Not that we're (or at least I'm) not happy for you when you really are pregnant. But it takes a minute to get there. And seeing all of these (at least before you know about the stupid game) sucks. Big time. Now, fortunately the first couple of these I saw said that they were like 2 or 3 weeks pregnant, so I assumed they weren't real, but it still was a kick in the gut for a minute.

It took me reading THIS and THIS blog posts before I realized exactly why those status updates had me so upset. So, because these two women are much more eloquent than I am, I will refer you over to them.

Today's lesson - it all comes back to thinking before you say/write something. Take others into consideration. What seems like a fun little game, can sometimes be hurtful to others.

It's a Friday-before-Labor Day Miracle!

2011-09-02T14:02:00.000-04:00

Oh, people! What I had feared would never come to pass, has finally become reality. Baby E slept 7.5 hours straight last night!! And, as the icing on that fabulous cake, he even did it in his own bed!! Now, I believe this is likely a fluke and probably won't happen again til he's, oh, I don't know, 12. BUT, I'll take it for now.

Interestingly, it's like Baby E read THIS post and decided to get on board with the plan. I started putting him in his bed after nursing him at night. Sometimes he falls asleep while nursing, and if that happens, I just hold him til I know he's "out" (i.e. lets his arm drop when I pick it up, you know, dead to the world kind of sleep) and then I lay him down. And, yes that may not be helping in the overall plan, but if he wakes up, then he's UP. Like for an hour or two. So, I gotta do what I gotta do.

So, if he doesn't fall asleep nursing, I rock him for a few minutes, to see if he'll settle down and fall asleep. If he does, see above. If not, I put him in his bed and lay down on the floor. And wait. And give him the paci he likes to throw out of the crib. And wait. Then pat his butt. And tell him to lay down. And wait. Then give him the paci again. And wait. You get the picture.

Last night I fell asleep before he did. And I woke up, and he was still awake. And it had been more than an hour and I was losing patience. So I went and got hubby, who was still up for some reason at 10:45pm (hey - that's super late at our house), and - it seems - got baby E to sleep. At some point during the night I heard him grunting and whining a little, but I didn't get up and assumed hubby did. Apparently not, which I learned when hubby woke me up at 6:15 this morning and said baby E was still asleep in his crib. After each asking the other whether we'd gotten him last night, we realized he'd slept all night (which ended up being from 11pm-6:30am).

So here's some irony for you. I'm more tired today than I have been recently. It's like my body got 7 hours of sleep and all of the sudden realized it hasn't been getting sleep and was reminded of how tired it is. So I'm going to take a nap right now. I should clean my disaster of a house. But a nap seems so much nicer.

Today's lesson - apparently baby E can read and is willing to cooperate with my plans to get him to finally sleep at night. That or he was just developmentally ready. Or I got lucky. Sometimes we all have those moments when it doesn't so much matter how the good thing happened, whether we had anything to do with it or not. What matters is that it happened. And that we take a moment to appreciate that it did.

Cute Baby

2011-08-28T11:16:00.000-04:00

So, lots of words lately. Surprisingly, I have little to say today. Just thought I'd share my adorable baby. You're welcome ;)

Today's lesson - sometimes we all take on too much. And we may even have good reason to take on too much. That doesn't mean it won't quickly become overwhelming and a bad idea. Know when you've hit the realm of "too much" and back out quickly, friend.

Sleep "Tips"

2011-08-26T18:28:00.006-04:00

Emms asked in a comment a few posts back whether I had any tips for helping her Bug learn to fall asleep on her own. And I simply laughed out loud (for real). But it wasn't one of those funny-haha moments. It was more of a really bitter, "sleep, what the hell do I know about sleep" kind of moments. And so I've been stewing about how to respond to her. Because I realized that I do know a lot about babies and sleep. And either I'm not using what I know with baby E, or it's simply not working. But maybe it could help her, and others.
So, Emms, here's the not-at-all short answer to your seemingly simple question. I have several suggestions, things you could try, and they may or may not work. Okay, so here are a few, and my thoughts on them all. First, there's the whole CIO it out thing, but you know my stance on it, which I think actually lines up with yours as well :) So, screw CIO.

Second, a bedtime routine is really important. The kid's was way better and more consistent that baby E's (which is something that we need to look at in dealing with his sleep issues). It looked something like this - around 7pm he got a bath (if it was bath night, though sometimes if he was riled up for some reason he got one just because), then a good 5-10 minute massage (now this was really important and seemed to make a huge difference with him getting calmed down and ready for sleep), then we'd sit in the rocking chair and I'd nurse/give him a bottle, followed by reading 2 books, then singing 2 songs. We'd then head to his bed. The whole thing was less than 45 minutes. Any longer than that and it seemed to not work as well.

Third, there's this sleep sweet spot, for lack of a better term, when baby is tired, but not overtired. This is what you need to look for. Beware, though, it's not the time to start the bedtime routine! It's the time for baby to be in bed. So you have to know about when baby will be ready to go to sleep and plan backwards to start the bedtime routine. Yawning and fussing are super late signs of baby being tired. Look for those early signs. With the kid it was pulling at his ears and hair and starting to become overactive. With baby E, it red-rimmed eyes and a general goofiness.

Lastly, and this is, I think, where we're headed with baby E because it's what worked with the kid. It is kind of a modified/non-CIO method. Let me explain what I mean by that. The premise of CIO is that you put baby in the bed, and walk away, not picking his/her back up. Now, you're "allowed" to go in at increasingly longer time frames to check on baby, but you can't pick him/her up (and frankly, you're not really encouraged to go back in at all). So, here's what we did with the kid. I'd do the whole bedtime routine, then lay him down in his bed awake. The first several nights, he'd scream as soon as I put him down. I would stand next to the bed, with my arms around him, while he stood up, patting and verbally reassuring him (often singing). Now, after 1-2 minutes he only was crying a little, but not really crying I guess. It was more fussing than anything. Eventually, though, he'd sit down, then lay down. Through all that, I was right there, in physical contact with him, so he knew I hadn't abandoned him and I knew he was okay.

After a few nights, he would lay right down as soon as I put him in there. I patted him through the crib bars til he fell asleep. After several more days of that, I laid him down and just sat near the crib, but didn't touch him. I eventually worked my way out of the room and he's been good to go ever since. All in all, it probably took 2-3 weeks. I remember he also started sleeping through the night more consistently around this time, too. And I have to think the two are probably related.

I've started this with baby E, though I'm not being as consistent as I was with the kid. But, this momma is desperate for some sleep (I think it's finally started to catch up to me!) so we're going to start hardcore this weekend. Pray for us, y'all!

So, those are my thoughts. I'd love to hear those of others - both what's worked and what hasn't (because just because it didn't work for your kid doesn't mean it won't for someone else's!). Seriously, I really would because - again - I'm exhausted here.

Today's lesson - I think we often rely too much on the "experts" and forget to follow what our own guts tell us to do. Parenting - good parenting - is about listening to that "expert" and non-expert advice, filtering through it all and, through trial-and-error, doing what works for us and our individual kiddos.

Kindergarten Bad Boy Club

2011-08-25T21:10:00.000-04:00

Oh but my boy had a bad day at school today. First he got on "red" (they have a level system of green, yellow and red, with green = good, red = bad, and yellow is somewhere in between) in class. Yesterday he got a yellow, but was able to bring it back up to a green. Shew. Today all the way red and not so much with the bringing it back up. Ugh. THEN, he - according to the piece of paper sent home - smeared mud on another kid (not that big of a deal), and punched, that's right PUNCHED another kid in. the. face. That, people, is a big problem. And, (sigh) the trouble didn't take long to pop up.

So, I ask him about it and the just moments before super happy kid, clams up and refuses to make eye contact. Quietness and lack of eye contact, in my kid, can only mean a handful of things. Either he's sick, or completely exhausted, or super guilty. I'm betting on both exhausted and guilty. What a fun combo.

So, the story goes like this. "Momma you forgot to remind me to follow all the rules and that's why I talked in the hall. 'Cause me and some others forgot we weren't supposed to do that." And then... "Alexis was tagging me and I didn't want to be tagged and I told her to stop and she didn't. So I told her to stop and she still didn't. So then I..." and we resume with the muteness and lack of eye contact. So that leads me to believe that he did hit the other kid. Although, I really don't believe that he punched her (yes, the other kid was a girl, though, really, that makes not one bit of difference to me). Regardless, kid's got some consequences coming.

I asked him how he was feeling and he (using an angry voice) asked me why I was making him feel so sad. It was a good learning opportunity. So we talked about how other people can't make us feel a particular way and it was probably his conscious making him feel so sad. Then he cried. And my heart broke a little.

In other news, the kid's medicine has been out the last couple of days and he's been waking up super early. Related to punching other people much?!??!!! I think so, too.

Today's lesson - it's so hard, as a parent, to separate yourself from your child. By taking responsibility for everything they do, we can set ourselves up in a bad way. It allows them to blame us for every choice they make. They need to take responsibility for their bad choices, in order to learn to make better choices. And they need to take responsibility for their good choices, because this gives them the confidence to know that they are indeed capable of independence.

And the Frustration, or Advocacy, Begins

2011-08-22T21:37:00.000-04:00

So, at the kid's Kindergarten "Kick-Off" he - as well as all of the kids who attended - participated in an assessment. Well, kiddo failed his first public school "test". While he told them his colors in Spanish (without being asked) and finally in English, and scored 93/100 on the Math concepts, he refused to participate in the Reading portion. In his defense, he was super tired (it was nearly 7pm by then and bedtime is 7:30, plus we'd had to wake him up from a really late nap to go) and simply put his head down and said he didn't want to participate. Now, reading has never been the kid's fav activity. Well, he loves to be read to, but he's simply not yet overly interested in reading himself. However, kid can identify all his letters, knows all their sounds, can read a few words, can write his name and most uppercase letters, and, in my opinion, is on par with all Kindergarten expectations.

So, the teacher called us out after the assessment and told us that she believes he's smart, but was just tired. She did warn us that the score wouldn't support that opinion. However, I didn't realize just how that score would affect us. Already.

Until today. When we received a letter in his take home folder saying he's been flagged for participation in an "Early Success" reading program. My defenses were immediately up as I waded through all the emotions. Of course I think my baby is a genius (honestly, that's not true. I think he's smart, but not genius-like. I don't think that makes me a bad parent, either, just an honest one). No parent wants anyone to insinuate otherwise. But that wasn't it, wasn't what has gotten me so upset.

There were two things that have me (for real) pissed off about this. The first is that I *know* children of color are discriminated against in the public school system. They are so much more likely to be labeled with some kind of disorder and end up with special education services. And, as we all know by now, I was already feeling sensitive the possibility of him being labeled.

Second, I really and truly believe that the kid is on par with where he should be for his age/grade. And this reliance on "the test" has me livid. It is and has been my one, true problem with the public school system. I understand the need for tests and assessments to give us a baseline from which to begin. However, even the teacher recognized that the test wasn't an accurate assessment of his abilities. And yet we STILL go with it?! Uh, no. We won't be doing that.

So, I wrote an email to the teacher asking what, exactly, the recommendation is based on (though, really, the letter didn't phrase it as a recommendation; it was more of a "how nice of us to let you know we're sending your kid to a special reading group for kids who are behind" kind of phrasing). I also asked for the specific areas he's struggling with, as we'll focus on those at home.

So, yeah. I'm ticked. And it didn't take long. Momma bear is, I'm afraid, here to stay.

Today's lesson - just because your baby has 4 teeth, it doesn't necessarily mean he'll bite while nursing. Who knew?!

Mosquitos, and rocks and camping - oh my!

2011-08-21T18:05:00.000-04:00

I'm covered in mosquito bites. I was stung on the temple by a bee (or something). I'm itchy. My head hurts. Baby E didn't sleep for crap all weekend. I forgot the camera at home. I sweated - a lot. The kid had a couple of awesome and blubbery meltdowns. Remind me again why I like camping? Oh yeah. There's this...

(Thanks to Gram for the pics, which I stole off her facebook page!)

Today's lesson - When you're 5, BaindAid's cure just about anything. Ahh, to be 5 again...

1st Week of Kindergarten

2011-08-17T18:10:00.000-04:00

So, my kiddo, my BABY started Kindergarten last Thursday. I told you HERE all about my anxieties around this huge event, and I am happy to report - so far so good!! The first day went a little something like this.

Kiddo woke up and Poppa (aka the "Popparatzie" - hahaha - I am so funny!) started taking picture after picture of him. Brushing his teeth...

All dressed up sporting his new backpack. It's red, his absolute favorite color. (Sidebar: topic for another day - why is red his fav color? Where did this preference come from? It's so cool to see his personality come shining through in the most unexpected ways.)

Me and my boy, posing. I handled this day better than I'd expected. I only teared up a few times, and never in front of him. So, that seems like success to me.

Walking to school. We had to park several blocks away. It was fun to walk him in, though. And, honestly, I wish I could do it every morning. That's not gonna happen. Maybe on special days... (Note to self : according to the kid, those are all the days on which we eat Honey Nut Cheerios.)

As soon as we walked in, and he saw the ridiculous numbers of people in the room, he was stuck to my side like glue. I don't blame him. There were A LOT of people there. But the teacher had some playdough and little cookie cutters sitting on their desks which seemed to get them involved and him unattached from my hip. It's like she knows what she's doing or something...Huh.

We all took a picture together outside of his room, then hubby had to jet on outta there to get to his own first day of school. I hung around for a bit longer, ya know, just to make sure. Baby E and I gave him kisses, and then headed out. He was happily absorbed in playdough as I left. His comment about his day when he got home was "it was great! Mrs. L was even nicer than I thought she was". Every day since he's said she was nicer than something else (a pumpkin, and yesterday pancakes - which he LOVES). And, that, my friends, sounds like a super successful first week.

Today's lesson: It is never - I repeat NEVER - acceptable to allow your 3 and a half year old child (or child of any age, for that matter) to intentionally hit someone in the face with his urine-soaked underwear without immediately responding with severe consequences. Not the 1st time. Or the 2nd time. And certainly not the third time. Please expect that that person step in to parent and will then give your child consequences, as you have apparently chosen not to. You have been warned.

End of Summer Moments

2011-08-15T06:10:00.000-04:00

Here are some of my favorite final moments of summer...

Naked baby E swimming in the backyard pool. Look how thrilled he looks about the lack of clothing situation. Um, to clarify. I do mean that baby E looks pleased. Not hubby. He had clothes on. Thought I guess he, too, was pleased with baby E's adorable nakedness. Ya know what I mean.

Napping on the beach while camping. We normally camp with friends, which we love. But sometimes it's nice to get away, just the 4 of us.

Camping with my boys. His shirts says, "campers have s'more fun".

Oh, this silly, silly boy. Love that little dude. He decided to put on his life jacket in the car on the way home from camping. Just because.

This was the bounty from the garden, just one evening. Like, we get about this much every day or two. We hit the garden jackpot this year and have really only bought broccoli and cauliflower at the grocery, produce-wise, this summer.

Oh, this was the sweetest moment. Baby E was hungry and tired and I was trying to get a shower. Hubby was trying to hold him off til I was showered, dressed, etc... So, finally, I was. I walked in and hubby and baby E and the kid and his Bob bear were dancing in pairs. It. was. adorable. I think it was one of those moments I'll carry with me for a long time.

So, we went to a baseball game. It was the first time the kid sat still the whole time. Which is, for real, quite a feat. It may have had something to do with the drunk - but super nice - couple in front of us who kept buying him things (peanuts, a tee shirt each for him and baby E). They certainly kept us all entertained.

And this sweet baby slept through the majority of the game. Wish he'd sleep at night, but alas he does not. He has started walking pretty well, like 15-20 steps at a time. Only problem is he gets all thrilled with himself, starts laughing with delight at his accomplishment and promptly falls down. He is such a joyful little creature.

Today's lesson - time flies. To enjoy the little moments, you truly must live in them. Or they're gone before you realize they were even there.

It's been a long time

2011-08-13T22:34:00.000-04:00

It's been about 8 months since we've seen R. She moved out of state just before Christmas and our communication with her has been spotty at best due to her cell phone service being on again - off again. She texted about 2 weeks ago that she had come back to live with her mom, Ms. A, bringing her 4yo daughter back with her. We were all anxious to get together, and so today was the day.

The day, however, started out rough. We went to a baseball game last night and the kid got into bed 2 hrs late last night, and baby E didn't sleep well at all. So the kid was tired (read: super cranky and way whiny), and frankly so were hubby and I. We decided to meet at a local park so that the kid could run around crazy outside, instead of in the house, and in our faces. Also, honestly, it was so we could end the visit when we needed to. We needed to be able to leave when the kid started getting completely out of control, or baby E needed to nurse. Because that wasn't going to happen in front of R especially since he pops on and off all the time. It just seemed a little too uncomfortable, for both of us, all of us.

So, anyway we decided on a park in town that was kind of close to R and Ms. A's house. We've been there before. It should have been easy to get there (uh, it wasn't). So, hubby and I had a big ole argument in the car trying to get there. We were done with each other by the time we got to the park. So that wasn't awkward at all.

All this to say that the visit should have been a disaster. And it wasn't. It was a little awkward. R is so quiet that after we'd exhausted the updates on what baby E is doing, I was grasping for things to say. Though I hope we will one day be friends and able to talk without discomfort, we're not there yet.

It was lovely to meet her daughter, who is the spitting image of her. She and the kid played together awesomely. Ms. A brought her friend, who has been with them on previous visits. It was nice to catch up with them, though they were also rather quiet. They did (all) bring baby E a couple of toys and some cute outfits, which was so sweet.

It was okay to watch R taking baby E in, from the top of his sweet puffy 'fro, to the bottoms of his fat little feet, seeing herself in his beautiful eyes and long, skinny fingers. And this time, blessedly, I didn't feel hurt by her claiming parts of him for herself. This time, this time it was okay. This time it felt a lot like when M (babysitter and awesome friend) or K (bff extraordinaire) loves on him. Instead of feeling like her love of baby E put me in an uncertain position, there was gratefulness that there is someone else in this world who loves him.

And, in R's eyes, I think what I saw was joy and love, and yes, still pain. But, this time, the pain seemed not the be the primary emotion. And, for that, for her, I am so grateful. I can only hope that she still feels confident in her decision to allow us to parent baby E. I can only imagine that she still experiences a whole rainbow of emotions when thinking about (much less seeing!) him. But I hope that the grief and pain have eased some for her. Just like anyone else you love, I don't want her to be in pain, either.

Today's lesson - time does heal many wounds.

Brownies

2011-08-08T22:25:00.000-04:00

Here's the scene...Sunday morning, church, towards the end of mass. The kid has been pretty well-behaved, but is starting to talk a little loud. He's talking it up with the little girl sitting in the pew behind us. Yeah, mostly he's talking. Not her so much. Baby E is standing up next to him, gooey as always, grinning and batting those gorgeous eyelashes. The kid is chatting away. I'm not paying much attention to what he says, but keep reminding him to whisper. Hubby's oblivious. All of the sudden, the kid comes out with, "that's my baby brother". I think, "oh, he loves his baby brother. What cute thing is he going to say about him?". I'm still only half listening though. Then I hear, "my baby brother is brown. And I'm brown, too, not like you". The little girl was very light complected, even paler than me. And then I hear - wait for it - "My brother's just a little brownie. We're just little brownies. Brownie boys". I quickly hushed him, not that ya coulda heard him say anything else anyway, over the laughter of the little girl's family and many of our neighbors (good hearted, I might add). I was, in turns, trying not to laugh, and feeling really embarrassed.

Then something else hit. A feeling that we've failed somewhere. Now, the kid hasn't mentioned his "brownness" in quite awhile, though he used to pretty frequently. So, honestly, it's just something I haven't really thought about. I'm guessing hubby also hasn't. And I feel like we've been remiss. We should have been talking about it, or at least providing open doors to allow him to talk about it, because it's obviously something that's been on his mind at least on occasion.

But, here's the thing, I don't know where to start. I don't know what to say. And I'm sure that's part of why we haven't. Not that it's been a conscious choice, mind you. I don't really know how to have the whole "race" discussion with him. I know I should ask him questions about what he's thinking, but I don't know what questions to even start with. We have a couple of books that talk about race, so maybe I'll pull those out in the next few days. We have read them before, but not lately.

Today's lesson - The art of whispering is one of those things that you should teach your kid at home, before the need to know how to do it arises, before he shows you he doesn't in fact know how to do it. And then proceeds to say something really loud at a quiet moment at church.

World Breastfeeding Week

2011-08-06T20:04:00.000-04:00

The first week in August is celebrated as World Breastfeeding week. Breastfeeding *may* be an issue I get a little passionate about. I'm sure you haven't noticed. I am often rather subtle. So, in case you've missed it, here are a few of the other times I've talked about it. See, hardly ever. Subtly is one of my strengths. Second only to sarcasm.

Okay, in all seriousness, I had an experience yesterday that fits right in with World Breastfeeding Week. So, here ya go.

I've talked before about HM4HB (previously known as Eats on Feets). In this post, I shared the story of getting milk from a family whose beautiful baby boy had passed away. Yesterday, baby E, the kid and I traveled about 40 minutes from home to pick up the milk of another beautiful baby boy who passed away.

This was a different experience than the other time, but still so much the same. Different families, different cities, different assortment of people present, different length of time since the baby had passed away, different reactions the parents had to baby E, different ways of showing their grief. But, the pain in their eyes was the same. The sadness was the same. The grief was there, the same. The desire that this milk, meant for their own baby boys, be used to nourish some other child, the same. The desire for something good to come out of their horrific loss, the same. The hope, which I so admire and am in awe of, the same. The beauty of their spirits, the same. The humbleness, and awe, and sense of responsibility I felt upon driving away with a full cooler, the same.

Last time the milk came home with us and was pretty much used completely within a few weeks. This time, the milk went to M's house (our beautiful, generous, loving sitter/friend) and filled her deep freeze to the brim, ready for baby E when he returns there next week (after having been home with hubby this summer). Last time, I found myself feeling so sad when I looked at or thought about the milk. Immensely grateful, but still sad. This time, I could feel a peace settling in on me as we filled the deep freeze. A feeling of gratefulness. While, of course, I still wish we didn't have that milk, that that sweet baby boy was still here to use it, I appreciate the strength it must have taken that mama yesterday - and the one all those months ago - to hand it over to us, trusting that it would be used with love and appreciation. I'm sure it was yet another goodbye they had to say.

So, today, I say thank you to all the mommas who milk share, for whatever reason you choose to do so. I know for some it is excruciating, for others joyful. For us, it is wrought with a mix of emotions as well. Gratefulness is what always rises to the top. Appreciation that these mommas are able to do what I am not, able to feed my child with the food God intended, the food that helps him to be so very healthy and happy. Thank you, mommas.

Today's lesson - I am again reminded that grief takes many forms and to some extent we are able to choose what those forms will be. While we are not able to control the feelings we experience, we are able to choose how we deal with the grief, able to choose to make something good come of it. Sometimes the best of us rises up in the midst of the worst experiences. My momma would probably call that grace. I think I'd agree with her.

I may have mentioned this once or twice...

2011-08-01T22:10:00.000-04:00

Friends, I am one tired momma. I haven't mentioned it in awhile, but baby E still isn't sleeping great. I mean, it's a little better, but still pretty sucky. Here's where we are right now. I nurse baby E around 8pm. He falls asleep. I put him in his crib. He sleeps about 3 hours or a little less. I nurse him again and just put him in bed with us. Why? Well, because, for some reason, he wakes up IMMEDIATELY screaming if I put him back in the crib. No, idk what's different about this time, as compared to the 8pm time, but there sure is something, at least in baby E's world. So, from then on he's in bed with us. And what that means is that he's in the crook of my elbow. All night, y'all.

Now, sometimes he'll sleep like a 5hr stretch at this point, which is awesome, I mean pure bliss. But sometimes, well, not so much. Sometimes, he's still awake every 3 hours. Now, generally when he wakes up, it's not like he's all the way awake or even wanting to nurse. He generally just needs settling back down. So, it's a matter if me flipping over from one side to the other, switching him from one arm to the other, re-inserting the paci (dude, I so hate that thing). It's not - at all - the most comfortable way to sleep. But sleep is sleep, people, and these days I take it however I can get it.

And, speaking of sleep, that's where I'm headed now. To curl up in a little ball. For the next hour or so until baby E claims my arm.

Today's lesson - Sometimes we take things for granted, even though we don't realize we're doing it. Like sleep. I remember how I used to sleep til noon. (sigh...) I remember when having to get up before 7am was cruel. Oh, 7am, how I miss you...

Expect the Unexpected...

2011-07-29T06:02:00.000-04:00

To quote Big Brother (which, I totally love, btw - don't judge!), the theme of this summer seems to be"expect the unexpected". Yeah, that seems to be my life about now. This time, at least, it was a good thing.

We haven't heard from R in more than 2 months. I've kept in contact with R's mom, and she told me a month ago or so that R's cell phone service had been terminated, which was why we haven't heard from her. Well, that's not completely true. She did call a couple of days after MIL was killed. But we were in the middle of trying to buy clothes for ourselves and the boys for her funeral. It wasn't a good time to talk. I told her I'd call back in the next few days, but I didn't save the number she'd called on, and, because I had so many calls from different #s right in that time, I had no idea which # was hers. I felt bad about it, but, honestly, we've been dealing with a lot, and I didn't have the energy to try to call every unknown number I'd received a call from.

Then, out of the blue, R called today. I was super excited to hear from her. She sounded good and it was so fun to tell her about all the cool things baby E has been doing lately (oh yeah - have I mentioned that baby thinks he wants to walk?!! I've tried to explain that he's only 10 months old, and should continue to crawl for at least a couple more months. He doesn't seem concerned with my opinion. Go figure.). Back to R. OH!! Here's the biggest part, remember how she'd moved out of state (a long way away)? Well, she's back!! And hopefully we'll see her next weekend (we have booked already this weekend). I can't wait for her to see this beautiful, happy, nearly walking little dude.

Today's lesson - Beware. Sometimes this baby gives kisses with tongue. You've been warned.

A Tribute

2011-07-27T21:28:00.001-04:00

Saturday was MIL's birthday. I was afraid it was going to be a horrible and difficult day for everyone. Another day of grieving, the loss so recent, so fresh. It easily could have become that. So, to allow us all to be together, a birthday party was planned at my in-laws' house to both provide lots of support to FIL (and everyone else!) and to celebrate her life.

There were more than 50 people there. We ate (a lot), we reminisced, we laughed, we were sad. FIL and hubby visited her grave. The kids ran around, laughing and playing like kids do. They were a reminder of life. A reminder we all needed.

(Wish this would behave and be right side up!!!)

One of hubby's aunts (FIL has 11 siblings) had the awesome idea to release balloons, yellow ones, in her memory. The kiddos decorated them. The kid "wrote" that he loved her and signed his name. He also affixed a little red heart post-it note. We watched that post-it note float up to heaven.

I think it turned out to be a beautiful day. A beautiful way to celebrate her and her life. I think it turned out to be a day that allowed many of us to really start to heal, to move from just grief and missing her, to appreciating and remembering the wonderful person she was, and also remembering how she would want us to live. She would have loved having those who loved her celebrating her birthday with her. She would be mad that she missed it. But I know she was there with us. Sending us her love.

Today's lesson - Moments of peace come to us at unexpected times. What gifts they are.

Cry it Out

2011-07-24T21:19:00.000-04:00

Okay, so I have several friends who have recently (say, in the last 6 months) had babies. And several of those have recently been talking about letting their babies "cry it out". And, to be honest, I've done my best not to let my head explode. I'm even doing my best to keep my mouth shut. And, seriously, this is one of those things about which I find it really difficult to keep my mouth shut. Uh, so I'm gonna vomit it all up here. Okay, so please know that if you did/do practice CIO with your kids, I don't think you're a terrible parent. But frankly, even if I did (and seriously, I don't), what does it matter what I think.

To start, I absolutely think there is a difference between letting a 1 year old fuss himself to sleep, and what I'm talking about here, which is letting your 4 month old (or less!) "cry it out" for 10 minutes, 30 minutes, an hour or more. The former I have no problem with. Though I do recognize there is sometimes a fine line between the two. There are always gray areas. But, some things, well, they're a little more black and white. At least to me they are.

I spent almost 8 years talking with new parents about the importance of that first year of life, that the parent's job, first and foremost, is to teach that child to trust them. This is achieved through feeding whenever baby is hungry. Changing diapers whenever baby needs to be changed. Playing, talking, rocking, walking, cuddling. Doing all of those things promptly, when a baby first cues that she needs it, teaches a baby that she can trust her parents. People talk about a baby being spoiled, but, in truth, a baby is incapable of the manipulation necessary to truly become spoiled. A baby is incapable of crying just to see what she can get her parents to do. She cries because she needs something. And the need to be held, is as important as any other need. This includes the need to be held, even when going to sleep. Or in the middle of the night.

So, to me, it makes sense that in letting a baby cry it out, it does the opposite. It's teaching the baby that, no, actually you can't trust me to be there no matter what. Sometimes you just have to put on your big girl diaper and deal with it yourself, you 3 month old, you. Suck it up, baby.

Now, I completely understand why parents do cry it out - they want their babies to sleep at night, and they want them to be able to put themselves to sleep, be self-reliant. Interestingly, this really is a Western culture value, this desire for our children (our babies!) to be self-reliant. If you look at many other cultures around the world, what you'll see is that babies cry much less frequently than they do in the US. In fact, only western cultures experience colic. I firmly believe their immediate responses to all of babies' needs is responsible for this. You probably think, sure, they get what they want immediately, of course they don't cry. You know what, though, those babies also learn to sleep through the night. And all without all those unnecessary nightly tears - by both parents and baby.

Does CIO it out work? Sure, with some babies it does. Do babies of parents who do cry it out grow up to be normal, functioning adults? Sure. Of course they do. Because kids are flexible and resilient. They put up with a lot of stupid things we do as parents and survive in spite of us. Do I do stupid things as a momma? Uh, yeah. For sure. But this isn't one of them. I'll make my mistakes elsewhere.

Today's lesson - if it doesn't feel right, don't do it. This is so the case in parenting. I don't care who says it, your bff, your momma, your pediatrician, someone you hardly know from facebook - if their advice leaves you with a knot in your stomach, or a little voice in the back of your head going "I can't do this", or in tears listening to your baby's own tears, don't do it. She will eventually sleep through the night, in her own bed. She will not go to college, or even Kindergarten needing you to put her to sleep at night, or sleeping in your bed. It will be fine. And it does not necessitate any more crying.

Summer Fun

2011-07-22T22:20:00.000-04:00

Here's how we kick it summer style at our house.

A little bit 'o baseball. The kid realized last summer that he might like it. We'd intended on getting him signed up for tee ball this year, but, uh, it just didn't happen. Thanks to the complete lack of follow through I seem to be experiencing since baby E came along. Thankfully the kid is very forgiving, and happy to just play in the backyard. (You know you love that he's doin' it in his cow boots. Well, I do at least.)

Baby E likes to watch his big brother play baseball. And eat leaves.

Pool time with friends rocks. Ring Around the Rosies in the water is even better.

Unless you're baby E, then a nap in the pool wins out. He's been to the "big pool" twice. Both times he's fallen asleep. Maybe he and I just need to hang out here at night...

He does, however, enjoy backyard pools. (Okay, seriously, please know that I was right there and didn't just let him float around the pool by himself. Hang up the phone. No need to call my friends at social services. Anyway, I know them all personally.)

Especially with all this goin' on, the pool isn't so safe just yet for baby E. I envision the day he's right in there with the big boys. (sigh...) I know it'll happen before I'm ready for it.

A boy, his bff, some ice cream, and a hammock swing. How much better can it get??!!

Love this little face, even all covered in yogurt (for the first time).

So, that about sums up summer. Well the good parts at least. I think we've already covered what's been crappy about our summer thus far. Though I could add mosquitoes to that short list to round it out.

Today's lesson - this lesson was reinforced to me thanks to my work friend Ms. M. While those little animal backpack/leash things may look like a good idea. I can't go along with it. I mean, truly, I get why people want to use them (have you not heard me talk about my kid?!), but I just can't get out of my head the whole treating your kid like a dog thing. So, just don't. Or, if you do, please know that while I'm honestly not judging you, I will be cringing just a little. Or a lot.

Kindergarten

2011-07-21T06:15:00.001-04:00

I've mentioned before (like probably every other week or so) how busy the kid is. And if you've met him, you're probably thinking that's an understatement. He is, quite honestly, really active. Some people probably see him and think "ohhhh, that kid is sooooo ADHD". But, as a parent and a social worker/therapist, I really don't think he is. I do think he is an active and sometimes distractible 5 year old boy. But I also see the boy who can sit and attend to activities for 20 minutes, an hour, without problems... when he wants to. I also see the kid who is easily distracted at times because he is so in tune to 3, 4, or more conversations going on around him, able to keep up with them all at once, but not whatever his own assigned task is. I do see him being impulsive, but primarily when he's tired or there's something else askew in his life (lord knows that kid is impulsive right now).

I, who know him so well, do not believe he has ADHD. But that doesn't mean the public school system will agree with me. And that, my friends, is one of the main reasons why I am anxious beyond belief about my sweet boy starting Kindergarten in just a few short weeks.

The public school system (in which hubby is a teacher, and of which we both are a product) is notorious for labeling kids as ADHD and demanding they be medicated. Now, as a social worker/therapist, I certainly know kids who have benefited from medication to help them control their ADHD symptoms. However, I am firmly of the opinion that ADHD is way over diagnosed. I've seen it too often used as an excuse by parents and schools alike to not have to deal with kids who are busier or less compliant than the adults in their lives would like them to be. I am unwilling to allow my kid to be labeled and/or medicated just to make some adult's life easier. Of course, if it's a matter of his own life, that's a different matter entirely.

I'm struggling with how we should approach the kid's teacher (we don't yet know who this will be). Should we be completely up front about how busy he is, how nosey, how in need of frequent movement breaks? Should we keep our mouths shut and just take a "wait and see" kind of approach? If it's a good teacher, a heads up would allow her to make accommodations from the very beginning. However, if it isn't, it would just taint her picture of the kid and I'm afraid he won't get a fair chance (because the possibility certainly exists that he will excel in a regular classroom, even without modifications).

Aaaaaand I am again reminded of how much easier this whole parenting thing is when the worst thing you have to deal with is the lack of sleep (which, btw, has gotten better- baby E is finally up to a 4-5 hour stretch at night. Woohoo!!)

Today's lesson - sometimes when we search for something, we get something completely different. For example, like when someone searched for "cute pedicure chairs for kids" and ended up on my blog. And yet, sometimes those searches land us just where we're supposed to be. But sometimes, not so much. Like when someone ended up here by searching "nude beaches". Disappointment comes in all forms...

Humorous kid

2011-07-19T10:22:00.000-04:00

My silly boy cracks me up on a regular basis. And it's not that he's trying to make us laugh (at least most of the time), it's just who he is. Fortunately, he's just as tickled as we are that he's cracking us up. I'm afraid that one of these days he's going to start to get self conscious about people laughing at him, and stop being so silly and funny. Or become fixated on getting people to laugh, and end up the class clown. I'm not sure how to help him develop this awesome sense of humor, without leaning too far to one side or the other. Neither extreme is my kid; it's just not who he is. So, how do we support the development of this awesome sense of humor, his super cool take on life, without pushing him too far, into thinking it's all-important?

It's an interesting thing, this parenting journey. Trying to pick out the characteristics that already exist in our kids, and support and encourage those we want them to cultivate, and dissuade the more, um, undesirable ones. I sure don't have an answer. So, at any rate, here are a few funny things he's come out with lately.

* "Baby E, you have such little armpits. Someday they're gonna grow big. So are mine. But they're not gonna be hairy like Poppa's. Man those are some serious kind of scruffy." He was just sitting with baby E in the corner of the living room, having his own little conversation. No idea where this came from. Funny boy.

* "Hey woman! You're my favorite garbanzo bean I've ever picked." As my aunt J pointed out, if he'd said "chick pea" instead of "garbanzo bean", this might make a little more sense. As is, however, I have no idea what he was talking about. Not that that's necessarily anything new.

* "Um, Poppa. Stop singing. You're only allowed to sing on Fathers' Day. And today ain't it. My momma sings like an angel. You, uh, not so much, mister". So, I must admit, I kinda love that he's already turning into a bit of a music snob. Poppa really is rather tone deaf, and I'm a with the kid on generally preferring to not hear him singing. Hubby has many talents, but the singing simply isn't one of them. I love, however, that the kid is willing to give him one day of reprieve to vent his vocal, uh, stylings.

* (singing) "I got some money in my pocket. I gotta get it to you. Do, do, do, do, do, do, do, doooo do". A fancy prize (or just a "way ta go") for whoever can name the song that line's from. And then tell me how in the world my kid knows the lyrics and can sing them on-key.

Today's lesson - It's interesting the lessons we learn - or re-learn - from unexpected places. For example, I never would have guessed that one of the lessons I'd re-learn would be from my MIL's death and is that I really do want to stay home with my kiddos. And, even more so, I now think it's where I belong. If only I could learn the lesson of how to make that feasible...

Apparently I'm an adult now

2011-07-13T06:16:00.000-04:00

More than a year ago, I posted a status on facebook that was something along the lines of "I wonder when I'll feel like an adult...?". The responses, while varying a little, basically came down to the same thing, "uh, why would you want to feel like an adult???!!".

This confused me. See, to me, being an adult meant feeling confident. Knowing what I wanted. Being certain about who and what I wanted to be when I grew up. It meant being patient and nonjudgemental. Being "adult" was something I looked forward to being.

I kept expecting it to come as I hit different milestones and junctures in my life. When I graduated from college. When I got married. When I got a "real" job. When we bought a house. When we started trying to get pregnant. When we found out about the infertility and started treatments. When we stopped treatments and went through the whole adoption process. When I went to and graduated from graduate school. When I became a momma, twice over.

I kept waiting to feel like an adult. But it never came. I continued to feel uncertain. About a lot. And for sure didn't get any more patient.

The last week or so has given me a sense of clarity about what everyone was trying to tell me. And they're right. Feeling like an adult sucks.

Being an adult doesn't mean feeling certain. It's talking to your husband about the casket he has to pick out for his mother. And holding your father-in-law's shaking hand has he follows his wife's casket out of the church on the way to the cemetery. It's trying to explain to your 5 year old why his Oma can't come back from heaven.

Instead of making me feel more certain, these things make me even less so. I feel more at a loss and the only thing I feel more certain about is that I much prefer to go back to a time when I didn't feel like an adult.

I promise to return to more jovial posts soon. Or at least my more typical rants on random subjects. I just had to process some of this somewhere. And this seemed as good a spot as any.

Today's lesson is an oldie but a goodie (and obviously not one I coined) - be careful what you ask for as you just might get it.

Grief and Life Mingle

2011-07-11T22:10:00.000-04:00

Grief is a funny thing. It comes and goes. Momentarily fading to the point where you forget, only to resurface just when you least it expect it. Like in the middle of the Kohls, when you remember that you're not just picking out cute clothes for the kids. You're picking out outfits for them to wear to their Oma's funeral.

Or when your kid says something seemingly innocuous like "what kind of music is on that CD?". But you realize it's a CD to prepare for the national social work licensure exam. That your husband and his father took out of your MIL's car to give to you. Because she's never going to listen to it again.

Or when you're watching the baby stand up all by himself for the first time and you think "you know who would really like to see this? Oma. She's going to be so excited when I tell her". And it hits you that you can't tell her. And not only is she never going to see him stand, she is never going to see him walk, or his brother go to kindergarten. Or be there when they get married.

But their is humor, even in this.

Like when your kid asks you what his Oma is doing in Heaven...because surely she isn't hugging God, because God doesn't hug skeletons. But probably she is dancing with God. Because God is good at that, and doesn't mind dancing with skeletons. And Oma was good at dancing, too.

And probably Georgie showed her the way to get to Heaven.

But Oma wasn't happy about the dirt being thrown on her [casket], because Oma liked everything to be clean. She probably has at least 14 brooms in heaven to take care of all that dirt.

And so the living of life continues.

Today's lesson - my baby sleeps better on a cheap air mattress than he does the expensive mattress on our bed, or the adorable crib in his room. Go figure. Sometimes cheap and simple are way better than cute and expensive. What about that...

The kid is processing...

2011-07-06T15:49:00.000-04:00

My poor kiddo is having a hard time. It's hard being 5 anyway, you know, what with everybody telling you what to do most of the time. You observe that bigger people get to make their own decisions, but you rarely do. Which, of course, isn't fair in the least. And then, throw on top of it, they tell you that your Oma has died and you don't really exactly understand what that means, AND the two people you love the most are not acting like themselves. They're cranky, and short-tempered, and crying, and kind of absent (physically and emotionally). It makes for one confused, scared, sad little dude. And, in my kid, that looks defiant and even more hyper than usual.

He actually yelled at me angrily yesterday "quit being so mean and bossy" and I realized he was right, I am being mean and bossy. I took a few deep breaths and apologized. That lasted about 4.5 minutes until he didn't comply with whatever I asked him to do next (like "quit dragging your brother across the room by his leg", or something insignificant like that). And then I yelled, and he got yet another time out. Poor kid has probably had more time outs in the last 4 days than he has in the last 4 months combined.

He's processing this loss out loud at random intervals. "Poppa why don't you want to drive Oma's car to the dentist?" "Because it makes me kind of sad, bug." "Because you miss your mommy since she's in Heaven and can't come back from there?" I mean, he kinda gets it, but only sort of. And, honestly, I have no idea how to help him process this. Especially since I don't even know how to process it myself. And dealing with the death of a loved one is hard enough for an adult, much less a kid. The one person I know who would have some good ideas about how to help him (because she worked at Hospice), well she's the one who's gone. Ironic, huh?

Today's lesson - apparently a driver's license is for driving, not speeding. At least that's what hubby says. Go figure. I suppose that's a lesson better learned from one's husband, rather than the police, right?

Grieving...

2011-07-04T14:56:00.001-04:00

Random thoughts, because I don't seem capable of formulating much else...

I am amazed by how quickly we switch to using past tense about people after they die. Everyone around us seems to be doing it, but I can't quite process it. I can't think of her as no longer here. As far as stages of grief go, I'm pretty sure I'm at denial. Hubby is bouncing all over the place, back and forth between them all. I'm stuck at denial. Or numbness. Or somewhere in between.

My heart is breaking...for baby E who will have no memories of his own of his Oma ... for the kid who is struggling to understand where his Oma has gone, and why she can't come back...for my 2 nieces who have now lost 3 grandparents in less than 18 months...for my mil's sister, who has relied on my mil to take care of her for most of her life...for all of my mil's many, many friends, who have lost a good listener, a staunch and empathetic friend...for the clients she served with compassion and dedication (she was also a social worker)...for my father-in-law who has lost the woman he has loved for 40 years...for my husband and his brother who have lost their mother, the woman who probably knew them both best and loved them always and unconditionally...

She was not perfect, by any means. We had a complicated relationship and she had a particular talent for driving me crazy (I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that probably went both ways). But no one of us is perfect. And she loved us all. She loved so many people. And she was such a caregiver of everyone around her. I was telling hubby earlier...I always have this need to be in control, know that everything is taken care of, make lists to assure everything's covered, telling people what to do, etc... But that wasn't the case around her. I knew she had everything under control. It was so refreshing, and freeing, to know that someone so capable was making sure everything was taken care of, checked off the list. I don't know who will make sure everything gets done now. It feels so overwhelming...

Me, hubby, baby E, MIL and FIL at baby E's baptism

Today's lesson - accept love where and when it is offered. It may not be perfect, but remember that both the giving and receiving of love in all its true forms is a gift to both the receiver and giver.

My mother-in-law

2011-07-03T19:13:00.001-04:00

My mother-in-law was killed Saturday in a freak accident while traveling in Ireland. She was taking pictures on the beach and a huge truck backed up right over her, obviously not paying attention to where he was going. She died instantly, feeling no pain.

We are afloat in a sea of questions. Hubby seems to have a need to know all the details of "how?". The kid is asking, "when will my Oma be back from Heaven?". Hubby's brother is desperate to know, "what can I do to keep busy?". My FIL is, I'm sure, asking "what will I do without her?" though he isn't even back in the country yet. Yet all I'm left with is, "what.the.fuck?".

I don't know who we are as a family without her. We are afloat - though just barely - without our captain.

Today's lesson - Go hug your momma while you can. Tell her you love her. We never know when may be our last chance to do so.

Baby E's 1st Tooth

2011-06-28T11:29:00.004-04:00

Do you know how difficult it is to get your 9 month old to stay still and let you take a picture of his most adorable 1st tooth?! Pretty, is the short answer. Which is funny, since up until that sweet little tooth erupted, he wanted nothing more than for my fingers to be in his mouth. But since, well, he clamps those beautiful little lips shut and will have nothing to do with it. He hasn't learned that that tooth is super cute and worthy of photographing. Apparently. In case you can't tell, and I can't imagine why that would be, what with my awesome photography skills and all, it's his bottom right tooth. The left one is just about to pop through, but not quite.

What, you want me to open my mouth? Okay, here ya go.

Oh, that wasn't open enough? Okay, Momma, I'll give it another shot for you. What do you mean move my tongue? You love my tongue!

Hi, Momma, I love you and I'm smiling, just like you asked me to do. And I'm even waving, another of my new cute tricks. I rock, right?! Bonus, just because you're an awesome momma.

Let me show you that awesome waving again. You didn't seem to get as excited as you should have last time. See, waving and smiling.

Okay, just smiling, no waving. I'm super excited about this one. I even helped you see up my nose. Now that is a cool body part. Did ya know my fingers actually fit up there?!

What?! You still didn't get it?! Geez woman. What if I smile and bat my eyelashes at you? Will that help? Now, why are you looking exasperated with me??! I'm being adorable here! This is some of my best work.

Okay, so how about I see how big I can get my mouth to open. Will that work???!!!! You know you're missing out on that cool up the nose shot in this one, right? That's sad...

How about if I give you one of my very best gooey smiles, and I wave? Can we just be done with this already, Momma?! Really, this modeling thing is exhausting! What, you think you finally got it?!! Shew. It's about time.

Today's lesson - Sometimes it really is exhausting being the baby. And they deserve to nap all day, because some days their crazy parents have a camera in their faces all the live long day. And you'd be exhausted, too, if that were the case.

Funny Things the Kid Has Said Today

2011-06-24T21:12:00.000-04:00

Man, was the kid on a roll today with the funny stuff coming out of his mouth! Here are a few I was able to remember - enjoy :)

Dude, what goes better than meatballs with the man in the moon's dinner? Nothin' at all, that's what.

Momma, and now I begin the dance of bacon joy. It is a joyful dance of bacony goodness.

Baby E, thanks for all the goo, goo, gooey goo goo. I mean, let the goo times goo, man.

I think that ghost (an old Halloween decoration he happened to find somewhere) is givin' me the stink eye. And I don't stink you cranky ghost.

What the freak-idy freak was that freakin' noise for, baby E?

And now I go to bed, my people (lifting his scepter in the air). Thank you, thank you, my people.

Today's lesson - you have to be careful about what you say around your 5 year old. He has big ears, and an even bigger mouth. And though the word "freakin'" coming out of your adult mouth may seem innocuous, um, it's not quite so much coming out of his. And while it's cute when it's coming out of someone else's 5yo's mouth, when it's your 5yo's mouth, it may not be quite as cute. Just sayin'.

Our furbaby, Jonah

2011-06-22T18:05:00.001-04:00

Last night I happened upon Marley and Me (the movie about this crazy dog and his family), and it, plus the snoring of our dog Jonah, made me think about the role Jonah has played in our family. I think a lot of people know the term "furbabies", you know, your animal(s) are like your kids. Well, at least for me, this was so the case with Jonah.

Jonah came into our lives about 2 months after we were married. He was actually born a week before we were married, which, honestly (especially these days), is the only reason I know exactly how old he is. And, btw, that means he will be 11 next week. Anywho, Jonah came as a result of my begging hubby for a dog, because I knew I'd be wanting a baby soon, and a dog seemed like a good way to ease us both into it. And, for hubby, the dog was a good way to put me off the whole baby thing for a couple of years. Jonah came from the local humane society and is a mutt through and through. While Jonah is a super fantastic dog now, as a puppy he was challenging. He first refused to sleep at night without me laying on the floor next to his crate. And then he refused to be house trained for a long time. And then there was the running off whenever he was not on a leash. And then the refusing to walk if you were holding the leash. And then in order to take a walk, you had to not hold the leash, and have someone walk in front of him, because for some reason he liked to follow feet. He was exhausting and I still think was harder to potty train than the kid.

But Jonah now is awesome, which happened around the 2-3 year mark. Which was good timing, because that's about when we started trying to get pregnant (hum, just realized there might be a correlation between those two things, lol). And, a couple of years later, when we realized that things were simply not going as planned, he was still there. Jonah seemed to know when I was feeling down and when I needed a soft head to pat, or just let me cry on. While he was probably just happy to get the attention, I like to think that he knew I needed him and was there for me. I remember the moment when I knew I couldn't continue the infertility treatments. I was laying on the couch sobbing, and Jonah was there, sitting right beside me. Really, he didn't leave my side much during that time. I am convinced that he just knew.

When the kid finally came along, Jonah, who had become accustomed to being the center of our world - our furbaby - got knocked down a notch or two in the familial hierarchy. He was depressed for nearly a year, sleeping in his room and rarely coming out. Not that I realized it at the time, being so busy adjusting to life with a baby, but looking back on it I know it was huge change for him, and one he took in stride after that initial adjustment. He tolerated the kid for a couple of years, and in the last year or so the relationship between the two of them has blossomed and they're the best of friends. Jonah decided he loved the kid (who had long loved Jonah) because the kid could finally play with him. Fortunately for all of us, the kid and Jonah started to entertain each other.

As I was watching Marley last night, I got to the part where he's gotten really old and is going to die and I had to turn it off. You see, I started thinking about Jonah. The poor dog is so very neglected now. And, fabulous dog that he is, he doesn't blame us for it and continues to be the gentle, loving, patient creature that he is. When baby E came along, poor Jonah fell another several notches. He rarely gets walks or attention anymore, though the kid does still love on and play with him quite a bit. But, he's accepted it - and us - as we are. He follows me around a lot, but doesn't demand anything. It's just like he wants to be near me, and that that is enough for him.

I'm ashamed to admit that several times I've though that if we didn't have him things would be easier (vacations, camping - he takes up a lot of room in the car). But I realized last night how devastating it will be when he's gone. And, really, that will probably be sooner rather than later. He's covered in tumors (non-cancerous), and his hips are bad. He's tired and inactive most days. He's old. But he really was my first baby. He was there when all I needed was something to love and take care of and when no one other than hubby knew what we were going through or the pain I was experiencing. And of course it's not the same as the boys. But I love him and he is such a loyal and loving part of our family.

Here's Jonah with the kid, a little over 3 years ago. He *may* be a bit heavier now...

So even though you can't read, thank you, Jonah, for being so awesome. I promise I'll take you for a walk tonight. If it doesn't rain, you know, since neither of us like to go out in the rain and all.

Today's lesson - just because you know all the tools to get your kid to behave, does not mean you will use them. You will sometimes use them. You sometimes will lose it and yell. You're normal.

The Year I Forgot Fathers' Day

2011-06-19T17:24:00.000-04:00

And, ahem..., that would be this year. There are tons of reasons why I forgot Fathers' Day (hello - I haven't slept in nearly 9 months and sometimes even forget my own name), but those, really, aren't all that important. What is, is that I have a husband who is a father, and I forgot the 1 day a year dedicated to honoring that important role he plays in my life, and in the lives of our children.

Fathers' Day is for honoring the fact that he is doing the dishes right now, while entertaining one baby and wrangling one 5yo into staying in his seat while eating his yogurt. It is for how he got up 2 times last night to help me fill up the SNS so I could feed the baby without waking up the 5 year old. It is for him loading up the car this morning - in the torrential thunderstorm - so we could just. get. home. It is for always knowing that when I need to run here or there without the boys that he will of course be with them. It is for knowing that he would never refer to himself as their babysitter, but always their father. It is for supporting me in breastfeeding the boys, and using donor milk with baby E, because he knew not only was it important to me, but it is what is best for the boys, regardless of what other people may have said (or not said). It is because he also sometimes fathers other children (while teaching). It is because he has learned to apologize (at least sometimes) to the kid when he makes a mistake or hurts his feelings. It is for how he rigged up the swimming pool in our backyard so it won't cause a torrential flood the backyard - another one - so the boys could have it to play in. It is for forgiving me for forgetting this important day because he knows how tired I always am. It is for being a parenting partner who balances my deficits and adds to my strengths. It is for loving our boys.

Fathers' Day is for being a father. And hubby is one who had to wait a really long time, and go through tests, and paperwork, and the writing of (HUGE) checks, and waiting, and more waiting, and tears, and fears of losing our child, and court dates. It's a big day for any father. But it is especially so for one who became so through adoption.

Happy Fathers' Day, hubby. I love you and I love the father you are and the one you are continuing to become every day.

You know how sometimes...?

2011-06-15T05:53:00.002-04:00

Today I just need to get something out, and whine a little. But, for your patience, you get a cute pic of baby E. See? It's worth it!

You know how sometimes you just really want to vent something, to a specific person, about a specific person, heck, to the world, but it just isn't safe/appropriate/helpful? You know, there's something you want to get off your chest, but in doing so no good will come of it. You may get it out, but it probably would cause an even bigger issue. So, you can't. Because the unspoken rules of that relationship dictate that such things are not spoken or acknowledged, especially with that specific person. It would create a bigger rift than already exists. And sometimes it's just really not your place in the first place. Know what I'm talking about? Yeah. Maybe not. Well, it sucks. That's all.

And now on to cute baby E (in his cute Bummis cloth diaper, I might add)...

Today's lesson - relationships are complicated and messy. And, even as a social worker/therapist, they're ~~sometimes~~ often difficult to navigate. Now, if you'd like me to help you navigate yours, I'd be happy to do that (and I'm even pretty good at it!). But only if you do the same for me. Or pay me. One of the two.

Baby Signs

2011-06-13T16:32:00.000-04:00

I can't remember if I've ever talked her about our use of sign language with the boys. Well, I'm gonna today.

We started using signs with the kid when he was 7-8 months old. We started with milk, all done, and more. I realized one day he was really interested in our dog, Jonah, so I started using the sign for dog (well, a modified one because the real one was too hard for a baby to do) whenever Jonah was around. Dog ended up being his first sign, which he did when he was about 10 months old (the dog's name, incidentally, ended up being his first spoken word shortly thereafter). We added in more signs as we noticed him being interested in things, and he eventually ended up using more than 20 signs. Here are some of the ones he used: milk, tree (again we noticed him staring intently at them out the window - he picked it up only the 2nd time I did it!), more, eat, drink, ball, hungry, music, book, play, bird, hi/bye (what? Your kid does those, too? See, your baby can do sign language!), bath, sleep, blanket, please, thank you, all done, want, now, and occasionally where.

He used th signs for about 6 months, until he was clearly talking in sentences (which, for the kid, was at about 14-16 months of age - yeah, he talked early. And hasn't stopped since then...). Some he used more often than others, with more, thank you, please, book, dog, and eat being most frequent. He actually also started using some of them together, forming early sentences, such as "more milk please", or "want book now please". Those are pretty big sentences for a 12 or 14 month old, if I do say so myself. He would also use them in conjunction with actual words - (sign) where (say) Poppa?

So, why did we do this? Well, there's an interesting, albeit small, body of research that suggests that there are many benefits of using sign language with infants/young, non-verbal children (which was certainly our experience). It says that children who are taught sign language actually talk SOONER than children who aren't. Additionally, they're less frustrated and have fewer tantrums. The research even suggests that it may increase children's IQs. (Here is a link to a synopsis of some of that research.)

Children are primed from birth to communicate with us but their mouths, tongues, and talking anatomy aren't ready until they're quite a bit older. However, they do have control over their hands much sooner than they do that talking anatomy. We see this in them learning to wave and point - that's communicating. You see it in the intense way they look at you and make specific noises - you just know they're trying to tell you something specific. So, why not harness that desire and skill they already have to really get an idea of what's going on in those little heads of theirs?!

So here's how you (or at least we) go about teaching babies signs - you use them. That's it. You decide what word/signs you're going to use and use them consistently with the spoken words. You chose which words will be most helpful, which is often the basic things they would need to tell you, like being hungry, or in need of a clean diaper, etc..., and things they would want (play, read, outside, etc...). We also throw in signs of the things we've noticed the boys being interested in. As I mentioned, with the kid we noticed him being interested in and subsequently taught him dog, tree, and bird.

With baby E it was music. He first used milk, which we started using with him when he was 5-6 months old. But, as seems to happen with baby E, he did "milk" for 1-2 days and then quit doing it altogether. Now, the last couple of days, he's done music. I'd only done that sign with him a couple of times, focusing more on all done, diaper, and more, in addition to milk. So imagine my surprise when I was singing to him and he he did this little hand flutter thing at me. I got all excited and we did it about 10-15 more times. And, oh my did the lights go on for him! When he realized I got what he was trying to communicate, it was pure joy - from both of us!

I love the super intense look he gets on his face, when he locks eyes with me and does the sign for music. It's like he really wants me to know that he's doing it on purpose, and he wants to assure that I get what he's communicating. He grins all big and gummy when I say the word and repeat the sign back to him. It's amazing, to be conversing for real with my 8 month old. And that, my friends, is what it's all about. That is why we chose to do sign language with our babies.

Today's lesson - baby humans are simply amazing creatures, capable of so much. And so obviously capable of communicating with us on a level we don't often encourage. Let them!!!

Red Dye is the Devil in Liquid Form (title by Hubby)

2011-06-10T21:43:00.000-04:00

So, have I mentioned how much we, at my house, hate red dye ? Well, we do. Like a lot. In my professional role, I've recently started educating people about red dye, and the effects it can have on their kids. So, I thought I'd go more into detail here as well. I might even give you more than just my anecdotal experience.

People always ask about how we discovered the link between the kid's sometimes craziness and red dye. So here it is... the kid was 2ish and had a really bad stomach bug. Like so bad he was laying on the floor, not moving at all except to turn over and puke. For more than an hour. Now, if you know my kid, you know this lack of movement is highly unusual. Hubby went to the pharmacy and asked what was safe to give him. He came home with an anti nausea medication - a very red one (not that we paid any attention to it at the time), purportedly safe for young children. Hubby gave it to him. He was up - no joke -and running laps around oue house in less than 5 minutes. This child, who had been immobile for more than an hour, was up running laps around my house. He ran, and ran, and ran, and ran. Like for 45 minutes straight. No stopping. There was this look in his eyes, totally crazy, and kind of freaking out. He literally couldn't stop himself. It's not like he was being bad, he simply couldn't control himself; it was not a choice. It became obvious that something was amiss.

I dismissed it because I had puke to clean up and a (sort of) sick kiddo to deal with. But it kept nagging at me, and I started thinking about the other times we'd seen the kid be so completely out of control. When he drank cranberry juice. When he had candy (which was/is unusual anyway), especially a candy cane. When he had an antibiotic. The common thread? All of these things had red dye in them. Red dye 40, to be specific.

One time the kid was prescribed an antibiotic. I didn't think he needed it, but he'd been wheezing and coughing for weeks, so I was willing to give it a shot. It was pink. 1 day on the antibiotic = 1 crazy kid (and 2 crazy parents, and several crazy child care providers). So, we discontinued it and told the pediatrician if she wanted him to complete a round of antibiotics, she was going to have to find one that didn't have red dye in it. It took her, the nurse, and a pharmacist an hour to find the one and only antibiotic for kids without red dye in it. (And, no, I don't remember what it was - it's in his chart.) Only 1 antibiotic red dye-free, that's it. Isn't that crazy?! He took it and didn't get crazy (or better).

So, what happens when he does have it? Well, the actual behaviors themselves vary, but overall what we see is a general increase in his level of activity (hyperactivity) and a decrease in ability to self-regulate emotions or impulses. Here's a recent picture of what can happen. He had a purple snocone at school (apparently they forgot that whole kindergarten lesson that purple = blue + red). We knew he was "under the influence" so we sent him outside to run off some energy. Apparently we didn't supervise him quite as closely as we thought. We called him in for dinner and later found the following outside. He took an entire bag of potting soil that was sitting innocently on the deck, and scattered it all over the place. (We had swept it more into a pile before I took these pics.) We didn't discipline him for this, because, really, he isn't in control of himself and it's really just not his fault.

Right now we have good control over his diet, and make sure to not allow anything that even might have red dye in it. I worry about when he starts kindergarten at public school in the fall. I keep trying to remind myself that kids with all kinds of food allergies (not that that's what this is; I think it's more of a sensitivity) do just fine, but it's hard to not worry. That, however, is a post for another day. The kid is actually (usually) really good about monitoring food to make sure there's no red dye in it, which is awesome. So, here is a good resource for some additional information about red dye, beyond just my experience and opinion. You know, in case you don't wanna just take my word for it.

Today's lesson: Red dye is, indeed, the devil. Or at least, is the liquid product thereof.