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".
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Sunday, November 27, 2011
A clean house
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.
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.
Friday, November 25, 2011
A Glass of Wine, or 3
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.
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.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Thankfulness
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.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
The Counselor Conference
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...
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...
Monday, November 21, 2011
Out of shape
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.
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.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
The Duggars
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.
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.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
The First Report Card
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.
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.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Just UGH!
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.
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.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Siblings
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.
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.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
A brief Bailey update
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.
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.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Another breastfeeding benefit, maybe?
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!
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!
Sunday, November 6, 2011
The Parent-Teacher Conference
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.
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.
Monday, October 31, 2011
A Halloween-worthy experience
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!
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Bad days are relative
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.
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.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
It wasn't exactly what I expected. But that's not necessarily a bad thing.
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.
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.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Seems like it's actually kind of complicated
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
To Answer Your Question...
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.
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.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Update on Babyled Weaning
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
My laptop
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.
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.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Birthday Bash - Hungry Caterpillar Style
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!
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...
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...
Friday, October 7, 2011
Well, what about that?!
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...
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...
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Sometimes...
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.
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.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Snore, cough, sniffle, repeat...
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.
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.
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.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Logic
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.
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.
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