Cute Baby

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

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

Sleep "Tips"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kindergarten Bad Boy Club

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

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

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

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

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

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

And the Frustration, or Advocacy, Begins

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mosquitos, and rocks and camping - oh my!

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



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

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

1st Week of Kindergarten

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

End of Summer Moments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's been a long time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Today's lesson - time does heal many wounds.

Brownies

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

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

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

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

World Breastfeeding Week

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I may have mentioned this once or twice...

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

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

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

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

Expect the Unexpected...

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

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

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

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

A Tribute

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


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

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

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



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


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

Cry it Out

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Summer Fun

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kindergarten

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

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

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

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

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

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

Humorous kid

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Apparently I'm an adult now

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grief and Life Mingle

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

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

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

But their is humor, even in this.

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

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

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

And so the living of life continues.

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

The kid is processing...

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

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

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

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

Grieving...

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

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

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

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

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

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

My mother-in-law

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

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

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

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

Baby E's 1st Tooth

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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







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

Funny Things the Kid Has Said Today

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Our furbaby, Jonah

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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