Like Deja Vu

Posted by Duff

There is a huge relief that comes with validation. That makes you feel like maybe you weren’t crazy when you had to have your mom come over to help you deal with your second newborn’s unending cries and insomnia. Or that there was good reason to sink to the floor in frustration when you can’t go to the bathroom without it starting a revolution in the bouncy seat.

Thank you, Dr. McLean.

Yep, despite the odds, Atticus has colic. Ya-hoo.

Three formulas, reflux medication, the whole rigamarole of soothing methods. Let’s face it. The kid wants to be held all day, all night, mostly with a bottle in his mouth, please. Oftentimes even that falls short. We have tried every binky on the market, swaddling, womb sounds, shushing, rocking, burping, and what I used to try on The Dervish that sometimes worked – sobbing alongside her. (Expletive).

Yesterday I was opening our first can of hypoallergenic formula and saw on the cover “Fast colic relief.” And I actually laughed. At least someone was willing to admit defeat. No one would ever use the c-word when it came to The Dervish, and it made me want to scream louder than she did. Did they not SEE the elephant in the room? Did they think I couldn’t take it?

If there is any good to be gained from colic, it’s that once you’ve experienced it, you’ll be far more supportive of anyone else who does. You will offer to come over and listen to the baby cry so his/her parents can shower or eor walk around the block with free hands and listen to the ringing in their ears.

Thank you, mom.

I will tell you, I had a premonition when The Dervish was an infant and we asked our former pediatrician’who feared owning up to the c-word) if this could happen to two children in a row. She, who had said time was the only cure, said, “It happened with both of mine.” And I saw the scar tissue on her nerves in that statement. As if someone clapped too loudly in her presence I’d have to scrape her off the ceiling.

The good news is, Atticus seems to want things to be different. Has whole moments of serenity, between 7:10 and 7:15 am. He will get older. He will find something he likes. Even if right now it’s not carriers that get me hands-free or any of the many other recommended cures.

He likes the vaccuum, but The Dervish is afraid of it. The flarking irony off which will be especially funny when this phase of our family’s story has passed.

I know I sound like a whiner. Please keep in mind that I think of the following when I walk away from Atticus to get perspective (usually while peeing or trying to eat against my natural drive to soothe him).

We have two healthy children. Some aren’t able to have any, or they aren’t healthy. Thank you, powers that be.

We have a boy and a girl. Which many consider the ideal – though I was glad I didn’t get to choose.

Babies aren’t babies forever, and we knew going in that we had babies to have children, not infants, and especially not newborns.

The Dervish is already a spectacular big sister.

I’m even grateful to have experienced both vaginal birth and a c-section, because I’m all about gaining life experience.

Except we already experienced colic once, so the only positive thing I can say about it this time is that once I admitted it to myself, and today, when my new pediatrician copped to the diagnosis AND acted like he genuinely felt my disillusion, it felt not so  ‘not so bad’ that I ever want to experience it again, but at least like I’m not lunatic for feeling so unraveled as a second time parent.

So. Next time someone tells you their baby has colic, you could say you’re sorry. Or, that it sucks and it will pass. Or you might ask what you can do. But you will be the best friend ever in the world if you force your way into her home with an agenda of how you plan to offer some relief.

And also, tell her she doesn’t have a muffin top. But feel free to bring some muffins.

 

Momgenius: Sesame Street Library Boxed Set

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: The Dervish is a tough sell. So when she recommends something, you know she’s not blowing smoke.

The Sesame Street Library Boxed Set, a box of twelve board books just the right size for infant and toddler hands, is a homerun. Not only will the Dervish sit still long enough to read these with me (and now, her version of ‘to’ me), but before she could run around, she spent a lot of time taking them out of and putting them back in the box, stacking them like blocks, turning the pages, learning what books are and what they do.

Which means we had an easier time of diaper changes, car rides, and long waits at the pediatrician (and subsequently, the pharmacy).

These books cover counting, colors, sharing, shapes, rhyming, location, bedtime routines, and more. All the timeless topics that are relevant with the infant and toddler set.

(You will, however, have to explain Bert’s unibrow. This topic, though relevant in our household, is left for parents to handle as they see fit.)

Great. baby. shower. gift. Available at Target and on Amazon.com. Worth much more than its very reasonable price ($12-$15ish).

Bonus: The boxed set also comes in a Winnie the Pooh collection, which covers less tangible concepts, such as friendship, lost and found, make-believe, weather, dress-up, and of course, the many facets of Tigger (you will be surprised at how quickly your own Dervish will learn ‘bounce’).

 

Momgenius: Sandra Boynton Books

“A frog and a hog cavort in a bog. But not the hippopotamus.”

And, I was hooked. I think more kids books should have words like ‘cavort‘ in them. Thanks to Sandra Boynton, there is at least one.   

Also thanks to SB, the Dervish knows what a vicuña is before turning two. It took her mother 33 years and a children’s book to gain that knowledge. Don’t I feel sheepish.

Given a choice of reading material, the Dervish always gravitates to this collection, probably because they were the first books that were written in such a way that her wound-up-tighter-than-a-drum mother was finally able to get over herself and just be plain old silly.

Besides fun vocab words, the books cover all the fundamentals, such as the alphabet, counting, colors, animals (including the many sizes, shapes and sounds of Doggies), emotions, rhyming, and of course, the importance of a bedtime routine. 

There’s a reason this woman has won awards. Check out the Sandra Boynton Web site.

 Posted by Duff

 

Passing Judgement

Posted by Duff

I don’t care how anyone feels about my parenting.

That’s not true.

If I respect your opinion, and you treat me with respect, I care what you think. I assure you, there is no harsher critic of my parenting than the Dervish me.

I had a “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” crisis over others’ opinions of breastfeeding that nearly split my psyche in three.  It’s hard to forget how that judgement, so freely given, stung. If I ever thought I had any right to govern what another woman should do with her breasts, I am now cured of that ignorance.

That was just one of many issues. Several times during the Dervish’s first year, my husband was accosted by supposedly well-meaning women our mothers’ age or older, stating that the Dervish was not dressed warmly enough. These women hadn’t seen me and my three thermometers constantly checking for fever. Outcome: the Dervish runs warm, and everyone pays if she overheats, period.

We let the Dervish climb too much. As if we had a choice. Her menus (though healthy, balanced meals) aren’t varied enough.  We held her too much as an infant. How is that possible? She doesn’t need a pacifer. This last one makes me want to invite all assailants to stand in the corner and smell themselves. Where were they during colic? During marathon teething when she wouldn’t accept anything else?

I. was.there. I have been since that very first second. This is why she comes to me first.  I am the one who finds myself next to her bed before I realize I am awake. Me.  There is nothing, no one, more important in my life. I have always done and will always do my best.

And so will you. Who knows your kid better than you? Not me.

When the Dervish was 8 weeks old, I ventured out with her for the first time, alone. It took me that long because she was prone to screaming herself purple for hours (her doctor assured me this was ‘normal’ fussiness) and I was prone to sweating myself stupid as a consequence. Anyone who ever heard her pitch during this phase said, “Dear God.”

Before long, the Dervish hit her high note. I couldn’t unbuckle her from the carseat — my fingers just didn’t work. Suddenly, a grandmotherly woman (who said she could hear her from the other end of the warehouse store) was at my side, rubbing my arm. I finally got the Dervish free. As I rocked her, the woman said,

 “How lucky this baby is to have a mother who loves her as much as you do.”

That one sentence moved mountains. I wish I knew who she was, so I could send her some chocolate dipped, flower-shaped pineapple of gratitude. Her words are a gentle reminder whenever I need them, the kind of judgement all parents can benefit from.

This past weekend, some good friends who are pre-baby came over for dinner and our evening routine. These are two socially and morally responsible people with good intentions. They understand that all kids, like all adults, are different. Their opinion matters. And after the Dervish streaked on her way to the bathtub and brandished a wood door stopper and attempted to set new records in couch diving, they said, without prompting, “You guys are good parents.”

We hope so. We try so hard. We doubt ourselves daily. We feel tested. Like most parents. And since we won’t see the long-term results of our efforts for years, we need to hear — and tell each other — when we’re doing an admirable job.

Next time I see you, I plan to tell you as much. But if we’re chasing after our children and I forget, please know that I meant to pass judgement. The good kind.

 

 

 

The Mommy Dating Game

Posted by Fitz

I’ve seen countless women write about how finding new Mom friends is strangely akin to dating, and I thought they were just being funny.  I realized they were serious when The Bean was about 6 weeks old, and I started stalking any person with an infant car seat when I was out.  I would sidle up to the poor, unsuspecting person and try to strike up a conversation like only a new mom can: “Oh, how cute!  How old is s/he?  That’s greeaaaaat!”  It was pathetic, and I’m sure that I came across like a complete basketcase.  Good reason for that, though – I was!

Fast forward to my first walk with a wonderful woman that I met around town – let’s call her Jeannie.  She is warm, friendly, easy to talk to, and we seemed to have a lot in common.  I found myself growing increasingly anxious as our walk came to a close…how do we end our date?  Shake her hand?  Do I suggest a second outing already?  Should I call her tomorrow?  I had no idea what to do, and found myself sweating like a teenaged girl playing spin the bottle for the first time.  This was ridiculous behavior, on all fronts.

Luckily, Jeannie put me out of my misery.  When we approached our cars, she suggested another walk on another day – and then admitted to feeling as nervous as I was.  We laughed and moved on, thinking about how freaking weird the whole situation was.  Since then, Jeannie and I have started to forge a real friendship.  In fact, we’ve even gotten our husbands together, joking that they should meet since we were “getting serious”.  

Meeting new moms that you actually want to be friends with is hard.  In many cases, the only thing you have in common with other new moms is that you both have infants – while you might never befriend this person in real life, the bond of being at home with a new baby will give you plenty to talk about.   You might find, over time, that you click more with some moms than others, and that’s OK – we’ve been through this before, right?

So, even though you thought you were done with the dating game, you might not be.  But those new mom friends will keep you sane, and it will be worth the aggravation….not to mention the fun you’ll have recounting the stories to your husband at night once the baby’s in bed.

Share your stories on how and where you met (or plan to meet) new mom friends!