Perspective

Posted by Fitz

People tell you so many things when you’re pregnant with your second child, and none have rang more true to me than how the arrival of a tiny infant will make your first born seem so grown up.  I will admit that I put no stock in these comments, thinking it would be difficult to change my perspective of my Bean, who I kissed goodbye through tears right before my delivery and kissed again just several hours after.  What could change in such a short amount of time?  At first nothing seemed to be different – she was my Bean, plain and simple.  Five weeks later, however, that all has changed.

My perspective on my beloved Bean has grown slowly.  First, it was a quick comparison to how grown up her painted toenails seem in comparison to Sweet Pea’s barely visible ones.  Then, I found myself staring at her feet and hands, wondering when they got so…substantial.  Kids’ hands, not baby hands…made for running and creating and trying to give me very painful, yet so-called bootiful, ponytails after dinner every night. 

What really changed my lens about my Bean, though, just happened last night.  Sweet Pea has fussy time at night, and the three of us who aren’t fussy have a tendency to look at each other like, “What do we do now?”  The Bean is always careful to make sure her little sister has her paci (and tells her to “Be nice!” when the baby spits it out), but last night she turned my heart into mush.  She took her giraffey, the buddy that she prizes above all other things, and laid it next to her sister for comfort so “she’d feel all better with a friend”.  Add that poignant moment to my peak hormonal state and I’m not ashamed to say it took a good fifteen minutes for me to stop crying.  In that time, my Bean grew from my little baby to my best big girl.  It was one of the most wonderful, touching moments of my life.

Oh, and Sweet Pea stopped crying immediately once she had the giraffe.  She must have been blown away, too.

 

Maternity Leave Report Card

Posted by AVM

T-minus-one week until my maternity leave ends, and I return to work.  I’ll wait until next week’s post to discuss the anxiety I’m feeling – not about returning to work – but about how in the world I’m getting the kids and myself out of the house, looking presentable, and with full bellies by 7:45AM.  But, like I said. . .that’s for next week.

I had a list of goals that I set for myself to accomplish by the end of my maternity leave.  Here’s my report card:

Get a homemade dinner on the table every night and eat together as a family.
Grade: B-
I would say that I achieve this goal 4 nights a week.  Some weeks it’s 3 nights a week, some weeks it’s 5.  Take out doesn’t count – it has to be something I cooked, and we all – Lovey especially – have to eat the same meal.  That means, no short ribs for us, chicken nuggets for her.  Like I said, 3-5 nights a week, this is happening.  And I find that my extremely picky Lovey has been eating more varied food because we’re all eating together.  Fitz wrote about this a while ago, and she was spot on.  Now, how this is going to happen when I go back to work , I have no idea, but I’m optimistic (or delusional, take your pick).  The fact that it’s crockpot season is going to help, I’m sure.

Get CeeCee sleeping through the night
Grade: A-
The schedule stickler that I am, combined with the fact that both of my girls are just great sleepers, has gotten CeeCee sleeping from 9:30PM-6AM every night for the past 3 weeks.  Ah, sweet, uninterrupted slumber, how I missed you.  I am hoping that once she starts daycare, she’ll be so wiped out (you know, from all the calculus and racquet ball) that we can move her bedtime up to 7PM.

Join Costco
Grade: F
It just never happened.  I’m the last person in the free world who doesn’t have a membership to a bulk superstore like this.  Sigh.

Create photobooks
Grade: C+
I have a billion pictures on a photo hosting site, and they sit there.  I still have pictures all over my house in frames of Lovey as an infant.  Um, time to change the pictures out, and DO something with these photos.  My goal was to create photo books online of my favorite pictures.  I’m off to a great start, but certainly have my work cut out for me.  I will finish these for sure, though.

Use my stand mixer
Grade: A
Like most brides, I registered for a stand mixer for our wedding.  I.have.never.used.it.  There it sat on our counter top, putting up a front to visitors that the people who live here actually bake.  No, not at all.  We can make you a mean risotto, but if you’re looking for dessert, I hope you brought something or don’t mind a store-bought pie. Well, that all changed.  With my trusted assistant and banana-masher, Lovey, I made a divine (and easy!) banana bread (and added chocolate chips!).  Granted it was an easy recipe, but it was my first one not out of a box, and I am hoping my stand mixer starts getting more of a workout.

Bond with CeeCee
Grade: A
I’ll admit, this sweetheart is not hard to love.  CeeCee is good-natured, laid back, smiley, and just such a cuddly, sweet baby – the kind you just want to squeeze all the time.  Still, I felt her getting short-changed and living in the shadow of her older sister, Lovey.  While I have been home with CeeCee, we’ve ventured into New York City, out to the Hamptons, and throughout Connecticut and Westchester County – having playdates, lunches and dinners, going to aquariums, playgrounds,  museums, and zoos.  We have made up songs that nobody except the two of us share.  We are almost to the bottom of why she’s so angry at the monkey hanging from her playmat (he gets swatted A LOT).  We’ve had countless naps together.  Overall, we learned a lot about each other.  Mostly, I learned that we were blessed with another amazing daughter.  And that makes all of my successes and failures during these 12 short weeks worth it.

 

Love Song

Posted by Fitzy

Like most just-about-to-be two year olds, my little Bean never stops moving.  Watching her is exhausting – she’s running down the hall, climbing on the ottoman, jumping in the den, and spinning to Ring Around the Rosie until she…we…all fall down.  She’s my very own Energizer bunny, and she keeps going and going and going until we manage to wrangle her into the crib at night.

Lately, though, she’s been a little afraid of bedtime.  When we put her in her crib, she says, “No bears!” repeatedly.  We tell her that the bears are far, far, away, and she doesn’t have any in her room, but her imagination is going wild.  We’ve ruled out more practical concerns about the crib being to small for her, and the temperature being wrong.  We know she’s comfortable…and we know she’s unhappy, at least for the first half hour of being in her bed.  She finally falls to sleep, only to awake at the ungodly 5:00 a.m. hour…demanding to sleep in Mommy’s bed.

We try very hard to not bring the Bean into our bed.  Very hard, I swear!  But when you’re already worried about your little girl being scared, and you walk into her room with bleary eyes and unfulfilled sleep needs and hear her say, “I want Mommy and have all my things for her bed!” as she holds her satin pillow, a stuffed turtle named Terry, and her ever-present Giraffey….well, I’m just not strong enough to leave her there.  So I gather her up with her menagerie and snuggle into bed with this girl who has transformed me in ways I never could have imagined.  I spend this time awake, thinking about how good she smells and how this is the most still she’ll be all day.  I wonder what kind of woman she’ll grow up to be, what with her love of using my Swiffer, doing my hair, and reading…and could almost cry with pride over how smart, feisty, and wonderful I think she is. 

This girl, the one who moves around like a crazy lady all day and sleeps peacefully in my arms in the wee hours of the morning, will never know how important she is to me.  No matter what I tell her, or do for her, or be for her, it would be impossible to articulate how she is the absolute joy of my life (and her dad’s).  She gave us a piece of our hearts that we never knew we were missing, and it’s here for good – this joy, this peace, the exuberance of her….it’s amazing.  The good news is that these new hearts she gave us will never leave us, no matter how many times we fall to the ground after another rendition of Rosie and her pocket full of posies.  It is what gives us the strength to get through the manaical days of working parents, and to get through yet another song when the Bean yells, “AGAIN!”

 

The Philosophy of Play Doh®

Posted by Duff

Oh, Play Doh® , how I love thee.

When I originally bought you for The Dervish, I thought you’d keep her occupied while I made dinner. I had no idea what a parenting facillitator you’d become.

Because of you, Play Doh:

1. The Dervish has been able to illustrate her take on the world, albeit with my help:  “Mommy, would you make a Daddy, please? Daddy needs a bed, and a pillow, and blanket.”

2. I know that it doesn’t matter to The Dervish if family members are the same color Play Doh, as long as every family member has the same color bed, pillow, and blanket.

3. We have been able to teach The Dervish the concept of adding another to our family. After I added a baby to the mix when creating Play Doh family units on more than one occasion,  she began requesting two parents, a Dervish, and a Baby. She asks that The Baby get (her) own bed, (her) own seat at the table, (her) own food. We cannot move on to the next task until The Baby gets what The Baby needs.

 Let’s see what happens if her real sibling turns out to be a boy. But for the time being, progress.

4. I know I can be resourceful. I initially didn’t think I could create a Play Doh table and chairs, but according to The Dervish, I just needed to put my mind to it and be asked many, many, MANY times in succession.

5. It’s apparent that The Dervish is learning table manners. Even if she is not putting them into practice  during ‘real’ meals, The Dervish instructs the Play Doh family to stay in their own seats and eat off their own plates.

6. I understand why parents often say that girls are bossy/direct play, and as we sit together, creating a small universe, I can help mold the beginning constructs of patience (Mommy can only make one thing at a time), creativity (strawberries come in many colors in Play Doh land) and compromise (if we don’t have enough purple, we might have to use green instead, and the world won’t end).

7. I know I can turn my creative limitations into learning opportunities . When The Dervish asked me to construct a hallway, I finally had to admit I couldn’t deliver. And I introduced her (all two years and nine months of her) to the term ‘abstract’.

8.  I may not get dinner made, but I get to have some fantastic times with my daughter.

So thank you, Play Doh.

 

 

Passing the Torch

Amid the well wishes, name discussions and diaper recommendations of pregnancy, there are a few things your foremothers leave out when passing the torch.  

Maybe lies of omission? They’d never admit your butt looks big in that skirt when asked, but instead steer you to a more flattering cut. It’s not your butt’s fault, but rather the skirt’s fault. Focus shifted.

Likely, they have just forgotten. You’d have to, if you want more than one child. It has taken me two years (and chats with friends who’ve recently given birth) to believe that you really do forget the minor details of those early weeks and months.

Here are some of my recent rememberings:

Breastfeeding can be challenging. A good latch is key, but just one on the ring.  In the early weeks (or months) your baby may nurse, round the clock, every 2 hours for up to 30 minutes. That leaves you 90 minutes in between, and less time for sleep. Pumping too? There is algebra involved in calculating free moments. Essentially, you will have someone (or something) attached to your breasts most of the time, and unless you have hobbies I don’t know about, that takes getting used to.

If that sounds intimidating, know that you can reach your goal, and that you’re bound to be more successful with support systems in place pre-baby. Find a lactation consultant or breastfeeding group and/or a friend or family member with experience. Kellymom.com is also a fantastic resource.

*(mymomgenes is Switzerland on the issue of breast vs. formula feeding — what works best for your family is best).

You are about to lose a hand. Or two. Birth rarely causes amputation, but babies take up free hands quickly. You’re still going to be hungry, thirsty, need to pee, etc. Stock up on one-handed foods. Keep beverages close to any feeding or rocking location. Have several baby carriers handy (such as slings, wraps or the perennial favorite, the Bjorn) and you might just get both hands back for a few minutes at a time while your baby stays close to you.

And, your baby might not want to be put down. My biggest mom shock. Yikes. I thought babies slept in cribs, bounced in bouncers, played on playmats. Some do, I’m told. Some don’t. Carriers help. From experience, I can agree with the experts who say meeting your infant’s need for comfort and affection during awake time (and unrelated to sleep training – another Switzerland issue ) builds self-soothing capability. Yes, I know it seems counter-intuitive. Thank you to the Dervish for forcing this realization upon an unwilling pupil. The girl is nothing if not tenacious. And confident.

To quote my labor midwife: “I was totally unprepared for how un-fun the first sixth weeks would be“.  Vacations featuring umbrella drinks are fun. Trying to figure out your newborn  is — different. There is awe, there is love, but there is little positive reinforcement from your taskmaster, and an abundance of criticism, if you take infant protests personally (who doesn’t take them personally? I need to meet this person).  It gets much, much better. Soon.

Bonding isn’t always instantaneous. I’m sure you know parents who say it was, and that’s great — for them. If it takes some time for you, you’re not alone,  you’re not deficient, and you’re probably someone I would be friends with, if you’d have me.  Relationships take time to grow, usually through shared experience. Why should this one be any different? Now, if you feel like you can’t function, or your baby would be better off without you, or you’d be better off without your baby, everyone who loves you suggests you talk to your ob/gyn or midwife yesterday. You deserve to feel better than that, and you can. Get support today.

Carseats are hard to maneuver. Why doesn’t someone design an ergonomically friendly model that doesn’t force funny bones askew for the banging? Secret: no one is judging as you load and unload the seat and baby from your car or shopping cart. There isn’t a spotlight or an announcer crowing, “Here’s a new mom who doesn’t know what she’s doooingggg!”

You’re doing great. Honestly.

What am I (happy to be) forgetting? Please share so other moms and moms-to-be can benefit from your experience: