How to recognize them: They watch your every move as a parent. They don’t care what seems to work for you and your child. They feel their experiences are the absolute end all be all of parenting and that’s how it should be. No one else’s opinion matters. They are right. You are clearly wrong.
Frequently heard saying: “You shouldn’t feed your baby so much. You don’t want her to be fat.”
“She’s not hungry. She just wants to suck on something.”
“You can’t just shove a bottle in her mouth every time she fusses.”
Why they bug: Nothing burns my ass more than people who criticize, ignore and sometimes outright undermine my parental judgments and orders. I'm the one with the permanent scars from giving birth. That makes me the boss, not you. Watch me shove a bottle in her mouth when she cries. She IS hungry, asshole. That’s the only time she cries. If she just wanted to suck or chew, she’d take a pacifier. But she spits it out because nothing comes out of it. She’s a growing baby. You can’t just starve her. You never even bothered to ask how much she eats in a given day. My pediatrician is not concerned about her weight. He is a well-educated medical expert. If he doesn’t care, neither should you. She's eating breastmilk, not Big Macs. And why should I take your advice when all your five year old eats is hot dog rolls?
Their retort: “Well, I guess you know best…”
My response: You bet your fat stupid ass I know best what is right for my child. Shut up and worry about your own kids.
Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Friday, October 8, 2010
A Sappy Open Letter To My Daughter On Her Second Birthday
Dear Anastasia,
I can’t believe you are two years old today. It’s not possible. It feels like your father and I brought you home from the hospital 20 years ago. I’m getting gray hair and bags under my eyes from not sleeping. Your mommy is aging rapidly thanks to you and your sister.
All joking aside, you’ve been the light of my world for these last two years. I never really imagined myself to be the mommy type but you have made it enjoyable.
You were an early talker and a late walker. This would have been fine except you were a really late walker and needed physical therapy for your weak joints and low muscle tone. Watching your strength develop and taking your first steps has been amazing. You are now running and climbing and doing everything a two year old is supposed to be doing, including getting away from me on the playground and getting hurt, leading to bumps on your head and more even gray hair on mine.
Something new comes out of your mouth everyday that makes me laugh. I love that you talked early because you never have a problem telling me exactly what you want (rather than running away from me to go get it). I hope you carry that on throughout your life and you’re never afraid to say what you want or what is on your mind. Today you were carrying your toy car around rather than riding it. When I asked what you were doing, you looked right at me sighed and said, “It’s heavy.” I’m still not convinced that you can’t read. I know sometimes you have your books memorized, but I’m almost positive that you sometimes recognize the words as well.
You have been the best big sister you could possibly be. I have to admit, I was a little scared that you would be jealous of your sister or be mean to her. So far, so good. Please don’t make a liar out of me. Your sister will need you to watch out for her. And I have a feeling she will watch out for you too. Be nice to her. Share your toys. Share clothes. And don’t steal each other’s boyfriends. It’s so important to me that you like each other and get along forever. I know you’ll fight sometimes. But please make up quickly.
You have changed me so much. I’m much more laid back now. I don’t get stressed as easily. My priorities have shifted. You and your sister are the most important things in my life.
This next year will bring us potty training. I’m a little worried about that one but you are already showing signs that you are interested and ready. I’m just not so sure that I am.
I can’t wait to see who you will become. You have such a strong personality already. Don’t be a brat. I love you to the moon and back. You mean the world to me.
Love,
Your Mommy
I can’t believe you are two years old today. It’s not possible. It feels like your father and I brought you home from the hospital 20 years ago. I’m getting gray hair and bags under my eyes from not sleeping. Your mommy is aging rapidly thanks to you and your sister.
All joking aside, you’ve been the light of my world for these last two years. I never really imagined myself to be the mommy type but you have made it enjoyable.
You were an early talker and a late walker. This would have been fine except you were a really late walker and needed physical therapy for your weak joints and low muscle tone. Watching your strength develop and taking your first steps has been amazing. You are now running and climbing and doing everything a two year old is supposed to be doing, including getting away from me on the playground and getting hurt, leading to bumps on your head and more even gray hair on mine.
Something new comes out of your mouth everyday that makes me laugh. I love that you talked early because you never have a problem telling me exactly what you want (rather than running away from me to go get it). I hope you carry that on throughout your life and you’re never afraid to say what you want or what is on your mind. Today you were carrying your toy car around rather than riding it. When I asked what you were doing, you looked right at me sighed and said, “It’s heavy.” I’m still not convinced that you can’t read. I know sometimes you have your books memorized, but I’m almost positive that you sometimes recognize the words as well.
You have been the best big sister you could possibly be. I have to admit, I was a little scared that you would be jealous of your sister or be mean to her. So far, so good. Please don’t make a liar out of me. Your sister will need you to watch out for her. And I have a feeling she will watch out for you too. Be nice to her. Share your toys. Share clothes. And don’t steal each other’s boyfriends. It’s so important to me that you like each other and get along forever. I know you’ll fight sometimes. But please make up quickly.
You have changed me so much. I’m much more laid back now. I don’t get stressed as easily. My priorities have shifted. You and your sister are the most important things in my life.
This next year will bring us potty training. I’m a little worried about that one but you are already showing signs that you are interested and ready. I’m just not so sure that I am.
I can’t wait to see who you will become. You have such a strong personality already. Don’t be a brat. I love you to the moon and back. You mean the world to me.
Love,
Your Mommy
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Sunny Days Sweeping The Clouds Away (A Sesame Place Review)
If you’ve ever met my daughter Stasi, you would know that she is obsessed with Sesame Street, much like John Hinkley Jr. was obsessed with Jodi Foster. Fortunately, we live only slightly over an hour away from Sesame Place. We decided to take her there as her first amusement park trip.
Stasi, who is not quite two, can be a little unpredictable in public. At times, she can be a bit whiney and bratty. Other times, she is bubbly, excited and cute. And sometimes she is a little bit of both. We committed to only a few hours because we weren’t quite sure how she was going to deal.
When we got there, we decided to spring an extra three dollars for VIP parking. This was probably not necessary as there is regular parking for $15 just across the street that was not all that much farther away. We noticed right away that the landscaping was trimmed and planted in the shape of Sesame Street characters. Very cool!
I had already purchased our tickets online before entering. The cost to get into Sesame Place is $53 for everyone over the age of two. The pass is good for two days that don’t necessarily have to be consecutive. I found a discount via AAA. There are also other various coupons available online and through other businesses. We brought a backpack, which contained juice for Stasi. Next time, we will likely bring water as well. After a guard searched the pack and we hit the somewhat crowded bathrooms outside of the gates, we went in.
We were directed by the greeter who took our tickets to a stand that was giving bags to the kids to trick or treat at various points in the park. There were clues that lead to each stand but we didn’t really pay attention to them. Rather, we just collected the candy as we saw the stands. The greeter neglected to tell us where we could get a map of where everything was. We spent the first couple hours orienting ourselves to the layout of the park.
It’s not a huge park. Half of it seems to be water rides, which we have little interest in. It was a hot day, despite already being fall. Many, but not all, of the water rides were still running. Instead, we tried to focus on some of the Halloween activities. We also walked through a small section of the park that is a replica of the Sesame Street set. I intended to get pictures of Stasi sitting on the infamous doorstep, but never got around to it. We were either too busy trying to figure out where things were or tired and ready to leave.
I took Stasi into The Count’s Halloween maze and got lost. Amid the twists and turns, there was a talking Jack O’lantern named Merlin who interacted with the crowd. After watching him for a little from the back of a group of people, we continued. I erroneously thought the curtained exit was another dead end. Knowing that we were limited on time, and that Stasi had decided that she no longer wanted to walk, leaving me to carry her, I panicked a little. Then I followed some other people around until they left. When we came out, The Count was waiting at the end. We got in line to get Stasi’s picture taken with him. She did not look at the camera, though. We found a few other characters in our travels, too. She didn't look at the camera with them, either.
We noticed that people abandon their strollers and other belongings at the rides, shows and at the Dine With Me hall. I was a little leary of this at first but everyone does it. I kept all of my important belongings in my pocket (money, camera, etc.) but no one messed with my backpack anyway. I found this to be kind of amazing. There are also lockers available for other cynics. I do suggest putting a ribbon and a tag with your contact info on your stroller just in case someone mistakenly takes the wrong one.
We made reservations prior to our visit to have lunch with the characters. This was a great opportunity for Stasi to get to meet the characters without spending time in line. The characters all came to the tables, except for Elmo. You had to go to him for a picture, which cost $20. I look like hell in that picture. Stasi also does not look as happy as she really was. We had a hard time dragging her away from him really. The lunch was a buffet. It was okay, similar to what you would expect at a high school cafeteria. There were hotdogs, chicken, mac and cheese, among other things along with cookies for dessert. The food wasn’t amazing but it wasn’t horrible, either. The cost of dining is $25 per adult. Children ages two and up are at a lower cost but I’m not sure what it was as Stasi was free. The characters also performed some songs. It was entertaining and worth it overall, given the cost of food at amusement parks.
Next, we found maps at the information stand near the gate and less crowded bathrooms near one of the water rides that was not in use. Then we were off to Elmo’s World Live. They suggest getting there a half hour before show time. We waited in line for a while and it was fairly crowded. In line, they showed episodes of Elmo’s world for the kids. We were finally seated on bleachers in a small auditorium for Elmo’s Halloween themed show. Stasi seemed to love it. When it was time to leave, she said, “Bye Elmo’s World! See you later, Elmo’s World!”
We left and it was finally time for some rides. We made the carousel our first priority. At first, she cried. But once it started moving, she started to laugh and really enjoyed herself. We decided to hit the rides in the Elmo’s World section next. She went on The Flying Fish with Paul because stuff that goes around in a circle tends to make me sick. Then we hit teacups and finally the flying birdcages.
We hit two of the shops. Because Paul couldn’t make up his mind and left it for Stasi to decide, we bought her both a stuffed Oscar and a stuffed Snuffalufagus. I also bought her a sweatshirt and a Big Bird onesie for my other daughter who was too little to make the trip.
We also wanted to get drinks for the ride home. The food places are all indoors so we decided to hit a snack stand instead. As we approached the first one, the vendor told us that the stand was closed. We got in line at another stand nearby, which had a long line. By the time it was our turn the first stand had reopened. The vendor really shouldn’t take his break inside the stand. They should at least send someone to relieve him. We were hot, tired and frustrated. And that was not a good way to end our day. Still, aside of having to wait to be seated for the show, that was really my only complaint. We got these gigantic character cups (which I believe are refillable at a discount). I noticed while we were waiting in line that the soft pretzels are shaped like Elmo’s head.
In an effort to hit all the rides before Stasi pooped out on us, we skipped the parade. Sesame Place will be retiring this version of the parade by the end of this season with plans to revamp it in 2011. I’m hoping we get to go again before the end of October to use the second part of our pass.
Stasi, who is not quite two, can be a little unpredictable in public. At times, she can be a bit whiney and bratty. Other times, she is bubbly, excited and cute. And sometimes she is a little bit of both. We committed to only a few hours because we weren’t quite sure how she was going to deal.
When we got there, we decided to spring an extra three dollars for VIP parking. This was probably not necessary as there is regular parking for $15 just across the street that was not all that much farther away. We noticed right away that the landscaping was trimmed and planted in the shape of Sesame Street characters. Very cool!
I had already purchased our tickets online before entering. The cost to get into Sesame Place is $53 for everyone over the age of two. The pass is good for two days that don’t necessarily have to be consecutive. I found a discount via AAA. There are also other various coupons available online and through other businesses. We brought a backpack, which contained juice for Stasi. Next time, we will likely bring water as well. After a guard searched the pack and we hit the somewhat crowded bathrooms outside of the gates, we went in.
We were directed by the greeter who took our tickets to a stand that was giving bags to the kids to trick or treat at various points in the park. There were clues that lead to each stand but we didn’t really pay attention to them. Rather, we just collected the candy as we saw the stands. The greeter neglected to tell us where we could get a map of where everything was. We spent the first couple hours orienting ourselves to the layout of the park.
It’s not a huge park. Half of it seems to be water rides, which we have little interest in. It was a hot day, despite already being fall. Many, but not all, of the water rides were still running. Instead, we tried to focus on some of the Halloween activities. We also walked through a small section of the park that is a replica of the Sesame Street set. I intended to get pictures of Stasi sitting on the infamous doorstep, but never got around to it. We were either too busy trying to figure out where things were or tired and ready to leave.
I took Stasi into The Count’s Halloween maze and got lost. Amid the twists and turns, there was a talking Jack O’lantern named Merlin who interacted with the crowd. After watching him for a little from the back of a group of people, we continued. I erroneously thought the curtained exit was another dead end. Knowing that we were limited on time, and that Stasi had decided that she no longer wanted to walk, leaving me to carry her, I panicked a little. Then I followed some other people around until they left. When we came out, The Count was waiting at the end. We got in line to get Stasi’s picture taken with him. She did not look at the camera, though. We found a few other characters in our travels, too. She didn't look at the camera with them, either.
We noticed that people abandon their strollers and other belongings at the rides, shows and at the Dine With Me hall. I was a little leary of this at first but everyone does it. I kept all of my important belongings in my pocket (money, camera, etc.) but no one messed with my backpack anyway. I found this to be kind of amazing. There are also lockers available for other cynics. I do suggest putting a ribbon and a tag with your contact info on your stroller just in case someone mistakenly takes the wrong one.
We made reservations prior to our visit to have lunch with the characters. This was a great opportunity for Stasi to get to meet the characters without spending time in line. The characters all came to the tables, except for Elmo. You had to go to him for a picture, which cost $20. I look like hell in that picture. Stasi also does not look as happy as she really was. We had a hard time dragging her away from him really. The lunch was a buffet. It was okay, similar to what you would expect at a high school cafeteria. There were hotdogs, chicken, mac and cheese, among other things along with cookies for dessert. The food wasn’t amazing but it wasn’t horrible, either. The cost of dining is $25 per adult. Children ages two and up are at a lower cost but I’m not sure what it was as Stasi was free. The characters also performed some songs. It was entertaining and worth it overall, given the cost of food at amusement parks.
Next, we found maps at the information stand near the gate and less crowded bathrooms near one of the water rides that was not in use. Then we were off to Elmo’s World Live. They suggest getting there a half hour before show time. We waited in line for a while and it was fairly crowded. In line, they showed episodes of Elmo’s world for the kids. We were finally seated on bleachers in a small auditorium for Elmo’s Halloween themed show. Stasi seemed to love it. When it was time to leave, she said, “Bye Elmo’s World! See you later, Elmo’s World!”
We left and it was finally time for some rides. We made the carousel our first priority. At first, she cried. But once it started moving, she started to laugh and really enjoyed herself. We decided to hit the rides in the Elmo’s World section next. She went on The Flying Fish with Paul because stuff that goes around in a circle tends to make me sick. Then we hit teacups and finally the flying birdcages.
We hit two of the shops. Because Paul couldn’t make up his mind and left it for Stasi to decide, we bought her both a stuffed Oscar and a stuffed Snuffalufagus. I also bought her a sweatshirt and a Big Bird onesie for my other daughter who was too little to make the trip.
We also wanted to get drinks for the ride home. The food places are all indoors so we decided to hit a snack stand instead. As we approached the first one, the vendor told us that the stand was closed. We got in line at another stand nearby, which had a long line. By the time it was our turn the first stand had reopened. The vendor really shouldn’t take his break inside the stand. They should at least send someone to relieve him. We were hot, tired and frustrated. And that was not a good way to end our day. Still, aside of having to wait to be seated for the show, that was really my only complaint. We got these gigantic character cups (which I believe are refillable at a discount). I noticed while we were waiting in line that the soft pretzels are shaped like Elmo’s head.
In an effort to hit all the rides before Stasi pooped out on us, we skipped the parade. Sesame Place will be retiring this version of the parade by the end of this season with plans to revamp it in 2011. I’m hoping we get to go again before the end of October to use the second part of our pass.
Monday, September 20, 2010
What I've Learned These Last Two Years
As I close in on the second year of being a mother, I’m surprised at what I’ve learned so far. Everyday brings a new lesson. I won’t pretend to know everything about motherhood. I’m still a novice at this. But these are the lessons that immediately come to mind.
1. If your kid won’t eat vegetables, hide them. You can put spinach in smoothies and vegetables on pizza. Kids also don’t know the difference between beef hot dogs and tofu hot dogs. It’s hardly fair fooling them but it works.
2. Pump. Breast milk is the best thing for babies. But some babies don’t latch. And nursing in public can be awkward, especially when you’ve got big knockers. So take the time and pump rather than feeding your baby formula. The baby will still get all the nutritional benefits of the milk. Your significant other can also feed the baby this way while you pump. You will still bond with your child because babies are so dependant on their parents for every little thing anyway. And it’s free. It's best to try to get eight 20 minute pumping sessions in everyday if pumping exclusively.
3. Buy a diaper changer like this one.
They are small and convenient. They fit in your purse and hold what you need.
4. Sleep advice. I could write an entire blog on how to get a baby to sleep at night but I’m afraid I will jinx myself if I do. First, give the baby a bottle before bedtime, whether it’s formula or breast milk. If you are nursing, give up caffeine completely. Use a special blanket to condition the baby. It will trigger the thought process on it being time to sleep. I prefer Halo Sleepsacks because they are impossible to break out of due to their zippers. And try to keep your room temperature low.
5. No butt scootching! It might be cute. And you might think it’s okay because at least your baby is getting around her own little world. But it may take months of physical therapy to correct when your child’s balance is off or her desire to walk is thwarted by a lack of a need. She will figure that there’s no reason to stand up since she can see the top of the coffee table. And why bother crawling or walking when you can carry things in your hand without falling? It takes a long time to break bad habits. Nip it in the bud and do not allow your child to scootch.
6. Real moms don't wear lipstick. I used to never leave the house without lipstick. Now, I find that I put it in my purse or pocket for after kissing the baby good-bye. I also find that I frequently forget to put it on. Sure, the makeup trends of nude lips did not help. But I think it’s mostly because I do not want to leave my daughter looking like Oscar Wilde’s grave.
7. Their falls, bumps and bruises will upset you more than them. I’ve had play dates ruined because little feet have gotten ahead of her and caused her to go way too fast. This has lead to a meltdown which was all mine rather than hers. Scratched glasses, bumps on the head, holding and rocking while she screams, “No mommy! Put me down!” soothe me somewhat. Seeing her run around and forget helps me even more. It's best to not even react. They're much more resilliant than you think.
8. TV is not so bad. The American Academy of Pediatrics can shove their suggestion of no TV for children under the age of two. I believe that TV has taught my daughter how to talk, recognize letters and numbers and possibly even read before the age of two. I think it’s more important to be careful of what she is watching rather than how much she is watching. It’s Sesame Street, not the Sopranos*. She’s not obese. In fact, she’s always been in the lower weight percentiles. And she loves to go outside to run around and take stroller walks. This may change when she is older, but for now I will continue to let her watch Sid The Science Kid. Someday, I hope to hear her sing, “I love my mom! My mom is cool!”
*We do not watch Cailou, however. That kid whines too much and it is strictly forbidden in my house.
9. If you have a daughter, you will find glitter in the strangest places. In the fridge, the bathtub, your hair. No one knows where it comes from. It just magically appears when you have little girls in your house.
10. Men will catch fire if a baby spits up on them. Or pees. Or (God forbid) poops. Or so it seems by my husband’s reaction when these things happen.
1. If your kid won’t eat vegetables, hide them. You can put spinach in smoothies and vegetables on pizza. Kids also don’t know the difference between beef hot dogs and tofu hot dogs. It’s hardly fair fooling them but it works.
2. Pump. Breast milk is the best thing for babies. But some babies don’t latch. And nursing in public can be awkward, especially when you’ve got big knockers. So take the time and pump rather than feeding your baby formula. The baby will still get all the nutritional benefits of the milk. Your significant other can also feed the baby this way while you pump. You will still bond with your child because babies are so dependant on their parents for every little thing anyway. And it’s free. It's best to try to get eight 20 minute pumping sessions in everyday if pumping exclusively.
3. Buy a diaper changer like this one.
They are small and convenient. They fit in your purse and hold what you need.
4. Sleep advice. I could write an entire blog on how to get a baby to sleep at night but I’m afraid I will jinx myself if I do. First, give the baby a bottle before bedtime, whether it’s formula or breast milk. If you are nursing, give up caffeine completely. Use a special blanket to condition the baby. It will trigger the thought process on it being time to sleep. I prefer Halo Sleepsacks because they are impossible to break out of due to their zippers. And try to keep your room temperature low.
5. No butt scootching! It might be cute. And you might think it’s okay because at least your baby is getting around her own little world. But it may take months of physical therapy to correct when your child’s balance is off or her desire to walk is thwarted by a lack of a need. She will figure that there’s no reason to stand up since she can see the top of the coffee table. And why bother crawling or walking when you can carry things in your hand without falling? It takes a long time to break bad habits. Nip it in the bud and do not allow your child to scootch.
6. Real moms don't wear lipstick. I used to never leave the house without lipstick. Now, I find that I put it in my purse or pocket for after kissing the baby good-bye. I also find that I frequently forget to put it on. Sure, the makeup trends of nude lips did not help. But I think it’s mostly because I do not want to leave my daughter looking like Oscar Wilde’s grave.
7. Their falls, bumps and bruises will upset you more than them. I’ve had play dates ruined because little feet have gotten ahead of her and caused her to go way too fast. This has lead to a meltdown which was all mine rather than hers. Scratched glasses, bumps on the head, holding and rocking while she screams, “No mommy! Put me down!” soothe me somewhat. Seeing her run around and forget helps me even more. It's best to not even react. They're much more resilliant than you think.
8. TV is not so bad. The American Academy of Pediatrics can shove their suggestion of no TV for children under the age of two. I believe that TV has taught my daughter how to talk, recognize letters and numbers and possibly even read before the age of two. I think it’s more important to be careful of what she is watching rather than how much she is watching. It’s Sesame Street, not the Sopranos*. She’s not obese. In fact, she’s always been in the lower weight percentiles. And she loves to go outside to run around and take stroller walks. This may change when she is older, but for now I will continue to let her watch Sid The Science Kid. Someday, I hope to hear her sing, “I love my mom! My mom is cool!”
*We do not watch Cailou, however. That kid whines too much and it is strictly forbidden in my house.
9. If you have a daughter, you will find glitter in the strangest places. In the fridge, the bathtub, your hair. No one knows where it comes from. It just magically appears when you have little girls in your house.
10. Men will catch fire if a baby spits up on them. Or pees. Or (God forbid) poops. Or so it seems by my husband’s reaction when these things happen.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Creep Of The Week: People Who Bring Their Sick Kids Around Me And My Family
How to recognize them: They’re carrying coughing and whining kids around that have snot coming out of their noses. The kids are carrying toys that are extremely attractive to your child. And it’s covered with snot, slobber and germs galore.
Frequently heard saying: “They’re not contagious. Not to be gross or anything but their noses are running clear. That means the infection is gone. I would NEVER bring sick kids around a new baby.”
Why they bug: That doesn’t mean that your kid isn’t covered with germs that are going to get the rest of the world sick, brain trust. What is so important that you can’t keep your annoying brats home? You know I have a newborn baby. My toddler is now drooling, sniffling and not eating because you just HAD to take your grimy little little monsters out. And I have a sore throat, too. I'm breastfeeding so there isn't much that I can take for that right now. I swear to God if my baby gets sick I am going to grab you by the testicles and twist, you fucking douche. I'd punch you, but my hands have been rubbed raw from washing them so much.
Their retort: "Oh, it’s just a little cold. They’ll get over it. It’s not like kids sleep through the night anyway."
My response: Well, maybe not YOUR kids don't sleep through the night but mine do…unless they’re sick. And all I want to do is sleep but I can’t because I have a baby that needs care and a cranky toddler who doesn’t feel good. I hope you get sick and run out of tissues and toilet paper, asshole.
Frequently heard saying: “They’re not contagious. Not to be gross or anything but their noses are running clear. That means the infection is gone. I would NEVER bring sick kids around a new baby.”
Why they bug: That doesn’t mean that your kid isn’t covered with germs that are going to get the rest of the world sick, brain trust. What is so important that you can’t keep your annoying brats home? You know I have a newborn baby. My toddler is now drooling, sniffling and not eating because you just HAD to take your grimy little little monsters out. And I have a sore throat, too. I'm breastfeeding so there isn't much that I can take for that right now. I swear to God if my baby gets sick I am going to grab you by the testicles and twist, you fucking douche. I'd punch you, but my hands have been rubbed raw from washing them so much.
Their retort: "Oh, it’s just a little cold. They’ll get over it. It’s not like kids sleep through the night anyway."
My response: Well, maybe not YOUR kids don't sleep through the night but mine do…unless they’re sick. And all I want to do is sleep but I can’t because I have a baby that needs care and a cranky toddler who doesn’t feel good. I hope you get sick and run out of tissues and toilet paper, asshole.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Creep Of The Week: The Fertility Police
How to recognize them: They stare at you and your kids when you’re out in public, giving what they believe to be sympathetic looks if you have more than one. They get extremely nosey when you only have one child. And they treat you like a barren freak of nature if you tell them you don’t want children at all.
Frequently heard saying: “Oh you poor thing! You must have your hands full! I pity you!” “So, when are you having another one?” “You don’t want kids?!?!” **clutches pearls** “But children are such a blessing! You’re young yet. You’ll change your mind.”
Why they bug: Why do people have such a hard time with the “live and let live” concept? We all make our choices. The number of children you decide to have, or not have, is completely up to you. We have control over these things. We are free to live our lives in whatever way makes us happy. Just because a woman is juggling more than one child, that does not mean her life is miserable. Some people are perfectly satisfied with one child. And if someone decides that parenthood is not something they have any interest in at all, there’s nothing wrong with that, either. We all have our private reasons for these decisions. What if the woman at the grocery store adopted one of her children, saving them from horrible circumstances? What if the woman with one child had financial problems and another child isn’t something they could afford? What if the woman who chooses not to have children reached her decision after learning that she has fertility issues? It’s rude to make assumptions. It’s rude to ask questions. Does it really matter that much to you?
Their retort: “I was just making conversation.” “I was trying to be compassionate.” “I just know how much I love my kids and hate to see people miss out on this joy.”
My response: Get your fucking nose out of my uterus and mind your own business!
Frequently heard saying: “Oh you poor thing! You must have your hands full! I pity you!” “So, when are you having another one?” “You don’t want kids?!?!” **clutches pearls** “But children are such a blessing! You’re young yet. You’ll change your mind.”
Why they bug: Why do people have such a hard time with the “live and let live” concept? We all make our choices. The number of children you decide to have, or not have, is completely up to you. We have control over these things. We are free to live our lives in whatever way makes us happy. Just because a woman is juggling more than one child, that does not mean her life is miserable. Some people are perfectly satisfied with one child. And if someone decides that parenthood is not something they have any interest in at all, there’s nothing wrong with that, either. We all have our private reasons for these decisions. What if the woman at the grocery store adopted one of her children, saving them from horrible circumstances? What if the woman with one child had financial problems and another child isn’t something they could afford? What if the woman who chooses not to have children reached her decision after learning that she has fertility issues? It’s rude to make assumptions. It’s rude to ask questions. Does it really matter that much to you?
Their retort: “I was just making conversation.” “I was trying to be compassionate.” “I just know how much I love my kids and hate to see people miss out on this joy.”
My response: Get your fucking nose out of my uterus and mind your own business!
Monday, May 17, 2010
In Support Of High Tech Births
Last week, I chose my child’s birthday.
On that day, or perhaps a few days before that if she decides she wants out sooner, I will arrive at the hospital, be prepped for surgery, cut open and have her removed abdominally rather than vaginally. This is the birth I have chosen.
I’m probably a decent candidate for a VBAC (vaginal birth after c-section). I don’t know for sure because I have not really discussed it at length with my OBGYN practice. At my first prenatal visit I made it clear that I had no interest in a VBAC. I was told at that point that if I did not attempt a VBAC this time, I would not be able to attempt one with any subsequent pregnancies. That’s fine with me since I don’t intend to have any more.
I don’t get why I have to defend this choice to some people.
I also don’t get why some people are so gung ho to use technology to get pregnant via fertility treatments. Yet, once they are pregnant, shun every possible piece of technology available. Why is one okay and not the other?
I also question why the very same people will fight tooth and nail to have a safe and high tech abortion when the outcome is that the fetus does not survive. These women would not want to do such a thing at home. Yet, they would love to have a home birth. If something did go wrong in those circumstances, they may not have the medical equipment available to ensure the child would survive.
Isn’t it ironic? Don’t ya think?
People will say that the act of giving birth is a natural process and not a medical procedure. I disagree. If there’s blood involved, it’s medical. If someone’s life is at stake, it’s a medical procedure. If you have an opportunity to mitigate your pain and plan ahead, why not do it? This is not a third world country. You do not have to suffer or be inconvenienced.
When I went into the hospital to have my first child, I was asked if I had a birth plan. I told them, “You’ll probably do this more times today than I’m going to in my entire lifetime. I’ll just follow your lead.” Perhaps I am giving up control of my experience but that’s okay with me. I just want everything to be done safely. So I’m going to leave it up to the experts and professionals.
So I will spend the next few weeks planning childbirth, as much as anyone can plan childbirth. But at least I have a definite date that I can’t go back. To me, childbirth is not a means to an end but rather a means to a beginning.
On that day, or perhaps a few days before that if she decides she wants out sooner, I will arrive at the hospital, be prepped for surgery, cut open and have her removed abdominally rather than vaginally. This is the birth I have chosen.
I’m probably a decent candidate for a VBAC (vaginal birth after c-section). I don’t know for sure because I have not really discussed it at length with my OBGYN practice. At my first prenatal visit I made it clear that I had no interest in a VBAC. I was told at that point that if I did not attempt a VBAC this time, I would not be able to attempt one with any subsequent pregnancies. That’s fine with me since I don’t intend to have any more.
I don’t get why I have to defend this choice to some people.
I also don’t get why some people are so gung ho to use technology to get pregnant via fertility treatments. Yet, once they are pregnant, shun every possible piece of technology available. Why is one okay and not the other?
I also question why the very same people will fight tooth and nail to have a safe and high tech abortion when the outcome is that the fetus does not survive. These women would not want to do such a thing at home. Yet, they would love to have a home birth. If something did go wrong in those circumstances, they may not have the medical equipment available to ensure the child would survive.
Isn’t it ironic? Don’t ya think?
People will say that the act of giving birth is a natural process and not a medical procedure. I disagree. If there’s blood involved, it’s medical. If someone’s life is at stake, it’s a medical procedure. If you have an opportunity to mitigate your pain and plan ahead, why not do it? This is not a third world country. You do not have to suffer or be inconvenienced.
When I went into the hospital to have my first child, I was asked if I had a birth plan. I told them, “You’ll probably do this more times today than I’m going to in my entire lifetime. I’ll just follow your lead.” Perhaps I am giving up control of my experience but that’s okay with me. I just want everything to be done safely. So I’m going to leave it up to the experts and professionals.
So I will spend the next few weeks planning childbirth, as much as anyone can plan childbirth. But at least I have a definite date that I can’t go back. To me, childbirth is not a means to an end but rather a means to a beginning.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Suck It, Lactation Consultants!
Consider this your warning. I will likely be telling you this during my hospital stay when I have baby #2.
This baby has 36 hours to figure out how to latch and nurse properly. If she doesn’t get it, I’m going to pump. I’m sure you will have an opinion on this. I’m sure you will try to use it to influence me. I simply do not care what it is.
Last time around, the nurses gave my daughter a few ounces of formula while I napped. I didn’t need your snippy little comment about that later. If you had a problem with it, you should have said something to the nurse who gave it to her, not me. I was not even conscious when it happened. The baby was turning yellow and was obviously hungry. So she ate. I, her mother, was not bothered by it. So I don’t know why you should be.
All parties also became extremely frustrated in our previous experience as well, including the baby, my husband, the hospital staff and me. I reached a point where I was dreading my child waking up because I didn’t want to deal with it. Motherhood should not feel that way. Enjoying your child is imperative. When I finally decided to pump exclusively, I felt as though a gigantic weight had left my shoulders. I relaxed and had fun with my baby.
I'm not the picture of dietary health. If my child has to supplement with formula, it might actually be better than passing along all the processed foods that I consume. After having major surgery, I don't foresee having the ability or even the desire to go out and shop and cook fresh foods. I can barely do that now with a toddler. It's baby formula, with iron, vitamins and nutrients. It's not like I'm slapping a nipple on a bottle of Clorox.
I don’t want to hear that it’s “double duty” or “a lot of work.” It’s not. With my pump, I can produce twice as much milk in 20 minutes than she would likely take in a 45 minute nursing session. My husband can give her a bottle while I rest and recover. I can store the excess milk for a later time, which will keep her fed longer. I know exactly how much she has eaten, if it’s too much or too little. My first child also slept through the night by 11 weeks. Many breastfed children have trouble sleeping because the parents are unable to monitor and control how full the baby’s stomachs are. I never had that problem and was able to sleep well throughout the night as well.
And I never had to whip out my boob in public. Sure, carrying milk around can be a pain in the ass. But with two kids under the age of two, I don’t think I’m going to be going too many places anyway.
You may be an expert on nursing but I am the expert of my family. I managed to make this work last time and I’m willing to try again. Ultimately, I am the one who is going to have to live with the decision. My child and I will later be forgotten and inconsequential to you. I know it’s your job but this is my life.
This baby has 36 hours to figure out how to latch and nurse properly. If she doesn’t get it, I’m going to pump. I’m sure you will have an opinion on this. I’m sure you will try to use it to influence me. I simply do not care what it is.
Last time around, the nurses gave my daughter a few ounces of formula while I napped. I didn’t need your snippy little comment about that later. If you had a problem with it, you should have said something to the nurse who gave it to her, not me. I was not even conscious when it happened. The baby was turning yellow and was obviously hungry. So she ate. I, her mother, was not bothered by it. So I don’t know why you should be.
All parties also became extremely frustrated in our previous experience as well, including the baby, my husband, the hospital staff and me. I reached a point where I was dreading my child waking up because I didn’t want to deal with it. Motherhood should not feel that way. Enjoying your child is imperative. When I finally decided to pump exclusively, I felt as though a gigantic weight had left my shoulders. I relaxed and had fun with my baby.
I'm not the picture of dietary health. If my child has to supplement with formula, it might actually be better than passing along all the processed foods that I consume. After having major surgery, I don't foresee having the ability or even the desire to go out and shop and cook fresh foods. I can barely do that now with a toddler. It's baby formula, with iron, vitamins and nutrients. It's not like I'm slapping a nipple on a bottle of Clorox.
I don’t want to hear that it’s “double duty” or “a lot of work.” It’s not. With my pump, I can produce twice as much milk in 20 minutes than she would likely take in a 45 minute nursing session. My husband can give her a bottle while I rest and recover. I can store the excess milk for a later time, which will keep her fed longer. I know exactly how much she has eaten, if it’s too much or too little. My first child also slept through the night by 11 weeks. Many breastfed children have trouble sleeping because the parents are unable to monitor and control how full the baby’s stomachs are. I never had that problem and was able to sleep well throughout the night as well.
And I never had to whip out my boob in public. Sure, carrying milk around can be a pain in the ass. But with two kids under the age of two, I don’t think I’m going to be going too many places anyway.
You may be an expert on nursing but I am the expert of my family. I managed to make this work last time and I’m willing to try again. Ultimately, I am the one who is going to have to live with the decision. My child and I will later be forgotten and inconsequential to you. I know it’s your job but this is my life.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Finding My Niche
Over the weekend, I attended a writers’ conference. One of the seminars centered upon building a brand and finding your niche. It was a great presentation but it left me feeling a little lost.
The point to finding your niche is to become an expert at a topic you are passionate about, writing about it and marketing your work. There has to be money in the topic. Somewhere, someone has to be buying and selling something surrounding the subject. It has to appeal to businesses or trade publications so that you can sell your work.
This left me questioning what my niche is, exactly. Once upon a time, it may have been finance or credit. And it could still be, possibly. My hobbies include concert going, scrap booking and just about anything that the marketing types would call “experiencing,” such as hot air balloon rides or visiting new restaurants and bars.
Lately, however, my life has centered on being a mom and all things to do with babies and toddlers. I would never consider myself to be “an expert mom,” as I have sort of been fumbling through the motions figuring this whole thing out. My own mother has been deceased for ten years, so I don’t have her to turn to when I have questions. I rely on friends, my sister and mommy message boards for advice. I suppose I could take these lessons and pass them along to others like me. I try to keep my topics here diverse, as not all of my readers are parents and I don’t want to bore them. Try as I might to avoid the subject, this blog seems to gravitate to mommy issues. I should add that the "niche blog" would be its own entity, separate from this blog.
The problem is that I hate “mommy blogs.” Unless I know the author or her children personally, I tend to not care or be bored by their stories and pictures. I don’t want to be “that mom.” I don’t want it to be personal for other reasons as well. The internet is a scary place where weirdoes congregate. I don’t want them to learn too much about my children. If I did a real mommy blog, I would probably take a page out of Michael Jackson’s book and put masks or paper bags over my children’s faces before taking a picture that I would post. Or, if they were really bad that day, I’d use plastic bags.
Maybe that’s where the answer lies. Maybe I need to be that mom that does things a little differently; the one that isn’t offended when the Elmo Camera says, “Work it baby! Give it to Elmo!” Or I could be the mom who openly admits that she lets her daughter stay in her jammies all day and feeds her leftover cold pizza for lunch and apple juice that isn’t organic. The mom that’s different or alternative.
Or maybe I should just write about concerts.
The point to finding your niche is to become an expert at a topic you are passionate about, writing about it and marketing your work. There has to be money in the topic. Somewhere, someone has to be buying and selling something surrounding the subject. It has to appeal to businesses or trade publications so that you can sell your work.
This left me questioning what my niche is, exactly. Once upon a time, it may have been finance or credit. And it could still be, possibly. My hobbies include concert going, scrap booking and just about anything that the marketing types would call “experiencing,” such as hot air balloon rides or visiting new restaurants and bars.
Lately, however, my life has centered on being a mom and all things to do with babies and toddlers. I would never consider myself to be “an expert mom,” as I have sort of been fumbling through the motions figuring this whole thing out. My own mother has been deceased for ten years, so I don’t have her to turn to when I have questions. I rely on friends, my sister and mommy message boards for advice. I suppose I could take these lessons and pass them along to others like me. I try to keep my topics here diverse, as not all of my readers are parents and I don’t want to bore them. Try as I might to avoid the subject, this blog seems to gravitate to mommy issues. I should add that the "niche blog" would be its own entity, separate from this blog.
The problem is that I hate “mommy blogs.” Unless I know the author or her children personally, I tend to not care or be bored by their stories and pictures. I don’t want to be “that mom.” I don’t want it to be personal for other reasons as well. The internet is a scary place where weirdoes congregate. I don’t want them to learn too much about my children. If I did a real mommy blog, I would probably take a page out of Michael Jackson’s book and put masks or paper bags over my children’s faces before taking a picture that I would post. Or, if they were really bad that day, I’d use plastic bags.
Maybe that’s where the answer lies. Maybe I need to be that mom that does things a little differently; the one that isn’t offended when the Elmo Camera says, “Work it baby! Give it to Elmo!” Or I could be the mom who openly admits that she lets her daughter stay in her jammies all day and feeds her leftover cold pizza for lunch and apple juice that isn’t organic
Or maybe I should just write about concerts.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
It's Not All Wine And Roses. Sometimes It's Just Whine And Bitch.
This is going to sound like a big ol’ pity party, so feel free to skip this one. I just have to vent and move on.
I feel stuck. I’m tired and lonely. I sit in my house all day with my baby, playing Peek A Boo and watching Sesame Street videos. When I do leave the house, I’m exhausted by the time I get myself ready, the baby ready, pack the diaper bag and load the car. Just the thought of it makes me want to crawl into bed and take a nap.
I feel very isolated. I’ve made plans with friends several times over the last few weeks and they’ve been cancelled or changed without so much as a phone call. Then when I ask what’s going off, I’m told that the plans were changed to another time that already took place. I swear I’m not this pathetic around other people. I don’t know anyone in my area. I’ve tried to look for mom’s groups but there’s nothing around here. The ones that I’ve found either have very rigid rules for participation that I can’t commit to in this condition or they don’t meet all that often. I was able to join one of the latter but so far, in the three months that I’ve belonged, they’ve only met once to discuss a book that I have no interest in reading.
I could drop the baby off with my mother-in-law and go off on my own somewhere. But I’d still have to do all the prep work to get there. She also has her own stuff going on right now. I don’t want to interfere. And where would I go anyway? Plus, I always have some anxiety dropping her off, not to mention the mommy guilt.
My days have been mundane. I have no good stories to tell. I struggle to find fodder for this blog. I don’t mean to sound so “woe is me.” I’ll be too busy soon enough. So I guess I’ll just go back on You Tube and watch the Elmo’s Ducks video for the five thousandth time today.
I feel stuck. I’m tired and lonely. I sit in my house all day with my baby, playing Peek A Boo and watching Sesame Street videos. When I do leave the house, I’m exhausted by the time I get myself ready, the baby ready, pack the diaper bag and load the car. Just the thought of it makes me want to crawl into bed and take a nap.
I feel very isolated. I’ve made plans with friends several times over the last few weeks and they’ve been cancelled or changed without so much as a phone call. Then when I ask what’s going off, I’m told that the plans were changed to another time that already took place. I swear I’m not this pathetic around other people. I don’t know anyone in my area. I’ve tried to look for mom’s groups but there’s nothing around here. The ones that I’ve found either have very rigid rules for participation that I can’t commit to in this condition or they don’t meet all that often. I was able to join one of the latter but so far, in the three months that I’ve belonged, they’ve only met once to discuss a book that I have no interest in reading.
I could drop the baby off with my mother-in-law and go off on my own somewhere. But I’d still have to do all the prep work to get there. She also has her own stuff going on right now. I don’t want to interfere. And where would I go anyway? Plus, I always have some anxiety dropping her off, not to mention the mommy guilt.
My days have been mundane. I have no good stories to tell. I struggle to find fodder for this blog. I don’t mean to sound so “woe is me.” I’ll be too busy soon enough. So I guess I’ll just go back on You Tube and watch the Elmo’s Ducks video for the five thousandth time today.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Creep of The Week: Women who think they deserve medals for experiencing natural child birth
How to recognize them: Female with child(ren), she often likes to put herself in ridiculous situations and play the victim card. Then she expects the rest of us to be in awe of her fortitude for something she did not have to go through in the first place. Also, she has an extremely stretched out vagina.
Frequently heard saying: “My little Cole was 12 lbs at birth. AND I had him NATURALLY." (After saything this, she pauses for admiration). “It’s called labor for a reason.” “Honey, can you rub a little something on my perineum?” “OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!! MY HOO HA!!!!”
Why they bug: This is completely unnecessary. Are you aware that you are not in a third world country and there are lots and lots of good drugs for this? Why waste technology? The only person who will be hurt by this is you. And your kids are never going to care how you got them out of you, no matter how hard you try to guilt them. And we know you will try to guilt them.
Their retort: “Giving birth is a natural process.” “Your vagina was created to stretch itself enough to pass a child through it.” “Women have been giving birth without drugs for thousands of years. You don’t need drugs.” “I just spent the last nine months without so much as a drop of caffeine. I’m not going to blow all that now."
My response: An epidural is the payoff of being drug free all this time. I’m sleepy. Give the epidural so that I can take a nap while I dilate. Sleeping during labor is the best part. Lord knows your sleep will not be as easily attained after labor is over.
Frequently heard saying: “My little Cole was 12 lbs at birth. AND I had him NATURALLY." (After saything this, she pauses for admiration). “It’s called labor for a reason.” “Honey, can you rub a little something on my perineum?” “OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!! MY HOO HA!!!!”
Why they bug: This is completely unnecessary. Are you aware that you are not in a third world country and there are lots and lots of good drugs for this? Why waste technology? The only person who will be hurt by this is you. And your kids are never going to care how you got them out of you, no matter how hard you try to guilt them. And we know you will try to guilt them.
Their retort: “Giving birth is a natural process.” “Your vagina was created to stretch itself enough to pass a child through it.” “Women have been giving birth without drugs for thousands of years. You don’t need drugs.” “I just spent the last nine months without so much as a drop of caffeine. I’m not going to blow all that now."
My response: An epidural is the payoff of being drug free all this time. I’m sleepy. Give the epidural so that I can take a nap while I dilate. Sleeping during labor is the best part. Lord knows your sleep will not be as easily attained after labor is over.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Sweet dreams, baby!
In the past few weeks, I have heard a lot of moms complaining that their babies are not sleeping. There are experts out there making mints off various methods. Since I have managed to raise a good sleeper (*knock on wood*), I am going to share what I have learned with you.
1. It’s never too early to get started on a sleep routine. My dad, a man who raised four girls, taught this to me. I figured he had to know something. He told me to start developing patterns and routines from the day that I got home from the hospital. Work it around your lifestyle if you have to. What worked best for us was a routine in which the baby would sleep at hour and a half to two hour intervals throughout the day and be awake for the same amount of time in between.
2. Establish a regular bedtime and stick to it. We chose 8:30 pm but ranged as early as 8:00 pm and as late as 9:00 pm. This is all part of keeping the routine.
3. Give the baby a bottle. Even if you’re breastfeeding, give the baby a bottle of expressed breast milk. This way you will know exactly how much the baby has had and that his tummy is full.
4. Don’t bathe the baby immediately before bed. It is often advised that a bath should be part of the baby’s bedtime schedule. However, water can be stimulating for some babies. Try bathing earlier in the day or, if your schedule allows, in the morning. Also, if your baby has a lot of hair, you probably don’t want to put her in the crib with a wet head as it may lead to making your mattress moldy and funky.
5. Swaddle or use a special blanket only at bedtime. This will condition the baby to associate the blanket with sleeping. My daughter always broke out of swaddles so I recommend the Halo Sleepsack because it zips, making it very difficult for your baby Houdini to escape.
6. Keep the temperature and the lights down. Dark and cool make for the most comfortable sleeping conditions, especially if the baby is snuggled up in a blanky.
7. Remove any distractions from the crib. I’ve heard a lot of women complaining and wondering what to do when their child wakes up in the middle of the night, throws their toys or blankets out of the crib and then cries until a half asleep mommy comes into the room to rescue them. End the game by taking the ball and going home. If they’re going to throw it out of the crib, they don’t need it. The baby is only training you to play fetch.
8. Cry it out – but not for too long. It’s not good to let your child cry for too long, especially if they are the type to hold their breath while doing it. Crying for longer than 10 minutes can lead to brain damage. However, most babies are never going to cry for that long. They will get bored with the crying or wear themselves out.
9.If your baby cries for five minutes or more, get him up. Read a story or play with a quiet toy. Rock the baby. Sing a song. Try all the tried and true things that your mother and grandmother suggested and used with you.
10. Nighttime Oragel for baby, nightcap for you. Teething can be a big culprit in the staying awake game. Be sure that during the baby’s nighttime dental routine you are also addressing any teething issues. And when all else fails, have a glass of wine (unless you are also expecting another baby). A calmer mommy will make for a calmer baby. Getting freaked out and angry will only agitate or scare your little one more.
1. It’s never too early to get started on a sleep routine. My dad, a man who raised four girls, taught this to me. I figured he had to know something. He told me to start developing patterns and routines from the day that I got home from the hospital. Work it around your lifestyle if you have to. What worked best for us was a routine in which the baby would sleep at hour and a half to two hour intervals throughout the day and be awake for the same amount of time in between.
2. Establish a regular bedtime and stick to it. We chose 8:30 pm but ranged as early as 8:00 pm and as late as 9:00 pm. This is all part of keeping the routine.
3. Give the baby a bottle. Even if you’re breastfeeding, give the baby a bottle of expressed breast milk. This way you will know exactly how much the baby has had and that his tummy is full.
4. Don’t bathe the baby immediately before bed. It is often advised that a bath should be part of the baby’s bedtime schedule. However, water can be stimulating for some babies. Try bathing earlier in the day or, if your schedule allows, in the morning. Also, if your baby has a lot of hair, you probably don’t want to put her in the crib with a wet head as it may lead to making your mattress moldy and funky.
5. Swaddle or use a special blanket only at bedtime. This will condition the baby to associate the blanket with sleeping. My daughter always broke out of swaddles so I recommend the Halo Sleepsack because it zips, making it very difficult for your baby Houdini to escape.
6. Keep the temperature and the lights down. Dark and cool make for the most comfortable sleeping conditions, especially if the baby is snuggled up in a blanky.
7. Remove any distractions from the crib. I’ve heard a lot of women complaining and wondering what to do when their child wakes up in the middle of the night, throws their toys or blankets out of the crib and then cries until a half asleep mommy comes into the room to rescue them. End the game by taking the ball and going home. If they’re going to throw it out of the crib, they don’t need it. The baby is only training you to play fetch.
8. Cry it out – but not for too long. It’s not good to let your child cry for too long, especially if they are the type to hold their breath while doing it. Crying for longer than 10 minutes can lead to brain damage. However, most babies are never going to cry for that long. They will get bored with the crying or wear themselves out.
9.If your baby cries for five minutes or more, get him up. Read a story or play with a quiet toy. Rock the baby. Sing a song. Try all the tried and true things that your mother and grandmother suggested and used with you.
10. Nighttime Oragel for baby, nightcap for you. Teething can be a big culprit in the staying awake game. Be sure that during the baby’s nighttime dental routine you are also addressing any teething issues. And when all else fails, have a glass of wine (unless you are also expecting another baby). A calmer mommy will make for a calmer baby. Getting freaked out and angry will only agitate or scare your little one more.
Monday, February 1, 2010
I judge you because (the parenting edition)
You chose to have a home birth. A few years ago, Rikki Lake made a documentary called "The Business of Being Born." The basic message behind the film was that birth is a natural process. It conveyed a message that women should take control of their own bodies during this process rather than allowing a doctor's agenda and the fiscal aspect of hospitals to interfere. I have been involved in many discussions on this topic and find home births to be a horrible idea. You never know what could go wrong during labor. Problems may arise that can put both you and your baby at risk. It's grossly irresponsible. If you're at a hospital, help can be there within seconds. What is wrong with allowing doctors and nurses to take charge of the situation? They will go through this process more times in a single day than you will in your entire lifetime. Let them be the experts. I often find that the women who push for home births tend to be of the hippy dippy variety. Like me, these same women sometimes fight for safe and legal abortions. I question that if they want to use technology for a procedure that will result in the fetus not surviving, why deny technology when you are looking for a survival outcome?
You drink or smoke while you are pregnant or you smoke in front of children and pregnant women. I've never been able to understand the appeal of smoking. Have we not done all the research we could possibly do to prove that smoking in general is bad? Why do it at all? And I'm tired of smokers complaining about their rights. Shut the fuck up. You can choose to smoke but I can't choose not to breathe the air while you're doing it. Your selfishness is infringing upon my health, my rights and that of my unborn child's. Personally, I don't care if you smoke. Please, by all means, get cancer and remove yourself from my gene pool. Darwin would be proud. And drinking while pregnant is also ridiculously selfish as well. Why risk damaging your child? And if I can give up drinking for nine months, anyone can do it. Trust me.
You choose not to vaccinate your children. I will never understand this. Again, why put your child at risk for getting sick? I understand that one of the arguments against vaccination is that rates of learning disabilities have gone up since vaccinations have become more widely attainable. Gee, do you think it's because we've also become more scientifically aware in general? Our kids are now going to school and graduating rather than dropping out to help on farms or support the workforce as they did in generations past. We have trained our teachers to spot learning and attention disabilities (although, I think we are also sometimes too quick to make these judgments out of laziness and last resort as an excuse to medicate and walk away). And we're also feeding our children a different diet than in the past as well. The key is, that child mortality rates have also dropped dramatically since we've started vaccinating regularly as well. And once again, I think this becomes an issue of not wanting others, such as the government, to influence your parenting decisions. What makes you the expert?
You let your baby drink soda. Caffeine is like kiddie alcohol. It has its time and a place. It's one thing to have it on a special occassion, like a birthday party. It's another thing to have it constantly every day.
Childhood obesity is on the rise and soda is like a gateway drug. As mentioned in the previous point, we're also discovering more learning disabilities and attention disorders. I think if we limit the amount of caffeine and sugar in our kid's diets they will be significantly calmer and less hyperactive. I was not allowed to drink caffeine as a child because I would bounce off the walls. As an adult, I have a lower tolerance for caffeine and don't find myself being a slave to it as others that I know are. I have the ability to energize myself without depending on a stimulus.
You home school. This is true especially in cases where people do it because the curriculum interferes with their religious beliefs. What are you so afraid of? If you're so sure that what you believe is true and that you are raising your children in what you consider to be the "right" way, why would learning about other ideas raise any issue? I'm not particularly religious, but if my child learns of a religion and decides to become a part of that faith at an appropriate age, I will not be disappointed. Although, if they decided to be Republicans, I probably would question where I went wrong. Still, there is no reason why you can't continue to teach with your influence outside of a school's curriculum. Why not let children be children and discover the world in a well-rounded way?
You drink or smoke while you are pregnant or you smoke in front of children and pregnant women. I've never been able to understand the appeal of smoking. Have we not done all the research we could possibly do to prove that smoking in general is bad? Why do it at all? And I'm tired of smokers complaining about their rights. Shut the fuck up. You can choose to smoke but I can't choose not to breathe the air while you're doing it. Your selfishness is infringing upon my health, my rights and that of my unborn child's. Personally, I don't care if you smoke. Please, by all means, get cancer and remove yourself from my gene pool. Darwin would be proud. And drinking while pregnant is also ridiculously selfish as well. Why risk damaging your child? And if I can give up drinking for nine months, anyone can do it. Trust me.
You choose not to vaccinate your children. I will never understand this. Again, why put your child at risk for getting sick? I understand that one of the arguments against vaccination is that rates of learning disabilities have gone up since vaccinations have become more widely attainable. Gee, do you think it's because we've also become more scientifically aware in general? Our kids are now going to school and graduating rather than dropping out to help on farms or support the workforce as they did in generations past. We have trained our teachers to spot learning and attention disabilities (although, I think we are also sometimes too quick to make these judgments out of laziness and last resort as an excuse to medicate and walk away). And we're also feeding our children a different diet than in the past as well. The key is, that child mortality rates have also dropped dramatically since we've started vaccinating regularly as well. And once again, I think this becomes an issue of not wanting others, such as the government, to influence your parenting decisions. What makes you the expert?
You let your baby drink soda. Caffeine is like kiddie alcohol. It has its time and a place. It's one thing to have it on a special occassion, like a birthday party. It's another thing to have it constantly every day.
Childhood obesity is on the rise and soda is like a gateway drug. As mentioned in the previous point, we're also discovering more learning disabilities and attention disorders. I think if we limit the amount of caffeine and sugar in our kid's diets they will be significantly calmer and less hyperactive. I was not allowed to drink caffeine as a child because I would bounce off the walls. As an adult, I have a lower tolerance for caffeine and don't find myself being a slave to it as others that I know are. I have the ability to energize myself without depending on a stimulus.
You home school. This is true especially in cases where people do it because the curriculum interferes with their religious beliefs. What are you so afraid of? If you're so sure that what you believe is true and that you are raising your children in what you consider to be the "right" way, why would learning about other ideas raise any issue? I'm not particularly religious, but if my child learns of a religion and decides to become a part of that faith at an appropriate age, I will not be disappointed. Although, if they decided to be Republicans, I probably would question where I went wrong. Still, there is no reason why you can't continue to teach with your influence outside of a school's curriculum. Why not let children be children and discover the world in a well-rounded way?
Sunday, April 5, 2009
This is your life
Dear Anastasia,
I'm writing this blog for you. There are so many things I want to share with you but you are only six months old and don't understand what I'm saying. Someday you will. I hope this blog will help you understand the world as well as where you came from and maybe shape who you will become.
Let me start by telling you the story of your life so far. Once upon a time, your father and I met, fell in love, got married and traveled the world. Your daddy is an accountant who can be a little rigid and set in his mind as many people of German heritage can be. I like to think of myself as more of a partier/rocker, although deep down I'm really just as grounded as your dad. We both have MBAs and education is a strong value of ours. We are experiencers, going to concerts, new places and trying new things. We're also extremely liberal. These are things we hope you will value and cherish too.
Being liberal is what lead to your creation. You see, daddy was very excited about Barack Obama winning the Iowa caucus. He and I celebrated and two weeks later, on Martin Luther King Jr. Day, I took a test that let me know that you were about to rock my little world.
Being pregnant with you had many ups and downs. For the first time since I was a teenager, I was able to get a good night's sleep. I have had bouts with insomnia all my life but I was so exhausted all the time while carrying you. I loved feeling you move around inside me. I liked to watch my tummy shift and move while you turned around. Your father thought it was creepy. We had a few scares. I had to go for an amnio. That means that a doctor stuck a big needle in my tummy to take some samples of the fluid that was protecting you. Unfortunately, the doctor totally botched it and I had to do it a second time. You were okay, though. And that was when we found out you were a girl. We were so happy. We really wanted a girl. I also had a seizure during my gestational diabetes test. No one really knows why. You also turned around the wrong way two weeks before you were supposed to be born. You later turned yourself back to where you were supposed to be right before the appointment I had to have you surgically removed from my body.
Toward the end of my pregnancy, my blood pressure was getting kind of high. You were a week late and the doctor decided that it was time for you to come out. After a breakfast of Egg McMuffins, your dad and I went into the hospital on a Tuesday morning. I spent most of the afternoon with strong contractions, two minutes apart lasting for a minute and a half each (that means only 30 seconds of "down time") but the nice doctors gave me something called an epidural that night and I slept very comfortably. I listened to your heartbeat through a series of probes and machines. The doctor seemed to have some trouble connecting a probe to your head. I should have known something was up then. Sometime around 2 am, I heard your heartbeat slow down. Before I even had a chance to call for help, there were several people in my hospital room tending to us. They stopped my contractions to give you a break. At 5 am, Dr. DeAngelis came into the room, told me that even though my body was doing everything it could to push you out, I was not making enough progress for you to come out. So they gave daddy scrubs and wheeled me into an operating room.
Your birth was the most surreal experience of my life. Your daddy walked into the operating room in his scrubs and I did not even recognize him until he put his hand on my shoulder. I was shaking. I tried not to but the nice doctor who turned up the epidural told me that there was no way I'd be able to control it because of my hormones. I was worried that the doctor would have a hard time taking you out of my tummy but before I knew it, I heard you cry. You were born on a Wednesday morning, a little after 6:00. The nurse brought you over to me to show me what you looked like. You were so small but still bigger than I expected you to be. I could not believe it when they said that you weighed over eight pounds. They wrapped you in blankets and your daddy brought you over to show me. But I couldn't really get a good look at you. Then they said that they were going to take us back to our hospital room and that I would have to hold you while they wheeled us out of the OR. I was scared and told them not to but they insisted. We went back to the room and bonded while I tried to feed you.
Later, they moved us to a different room where we stayed for the rest of the our time at the hospital. I was tired and thirsty. The medicine started to wear off and I almost threw up all over you. They took you to the nursery. Your dad and I napped. I had a very long and hard recovery from the operation. It took several weeks for me to be able to stand up without pain. It would break my heart when you would cry and I could not just jump up and take care of you. Your dad was there for this time. He took such good care of us both. I will always be very proud of the way handled everything.
We came home the Saturday after you were born. I was really sick of being in the hospital by then. People came to visit you and grandma even stayed with us for a few days to help out. Daddy took vacation time from work for a month and my leave was for three months. During that time, you and I would do things like watch the Trivial Pursuit game show at 4 am. I'd eat Pop Tarts and we'd take naps while the morning talk shows were on. I liked being home with you and cherished every second.
As the holidays approached, I knew I would have to return to work. It was hard for me to enjoy them because of this. You and I had just settled into a routine. You were also just starting to do cute things like smile and laugh. I cried every day for the last two weeks of our time together. The morning I went back to work, your daddy brought grandma over to our house to watch you for the day. I left the house in tears because I knew how much I would miss you. I came home to see you during my lunch break and before I knew it, the day was over. We took grandma home and I played with you for the rest of the night.
In a few days, you will be six months old. You are beautiful and healthy. You giggle and smile for your dad and me all the time. You love your grandpa and grandma, too. You're not too keen on being around other people. You get that from me. Your eyes are blue and usually a little crusty. Your doctor says you have a blocked tear duct. I hope it clears up. Your hair is a dark blond color with a little bit of red when the light hits it. You like to play on your bouncy chair and your play mat. You hate cereal and fruit. You suck your thumb but only when you are calming yourself down and going to sleep. Sometimes I love you so much it hurts. When your Nana went to heaven, your Gramps told me that she loved me in a way that I would never understand until I had kids of my own. Now I know what he meant.
I'm writing this blog for you. There are so many things I want to share with you but you are only six months old and don't understand what I'm saying. Someday you will. I hope this blog will help you understand the world as well as where you came from and maybe shape who you will become.
Let me start by telling you the story of your life so far. Once upon a time, your father and I met, fell in love, got married and traveled the world. Your daddy is an accountant who can be a little rigid and set in his mind as many people of German heritage can be. I like to think of myself as more of a partier/rocker, although deep down I'm really just as grounded as your dad. We both have MBAs and education is a strong value of ours. We are experiencers, going to concerts, new places and trying new things. We're also extremely liberal. These are things we hope you will value and cherish too.
Being liberal is what lead to your creation. You see, daddy was very excited about Barack Obama winning the Iowa caucus. He and I celebrated and two weeks later, on Martin Luther King Jr. Day, I took a test that let me know that you were about to rock my little world.
Being pregnant with you had many ups and downs. For the first time since I was a teenager, I was able to get a good night's sleep. I have had bouts with insomnia all my life but I was so exhausted all the time while carrying you. I loved feeling you move around inside me. I liked to watch my tummy shift and move while you turned around. Your father thought it was creepy. We had a few scares. I had to go for an amnio. That means that a doctor stuck a big needle in my tummy to take some samples of the fluid that was protecting you. Unfortunately, the doctor totally botched it and I had to do it a second time. You were okay, though. And that was when we found out you were a girl. We were so happy. We really wanted a girl. I also had a seizure during my gestational diabetes test. No one really knows why. You also turned around the wrong way two weeks before you were supposed to be born. You later turned yourself back to where you were supposed to be right before the appointment I had to have you surgically removed from my body.
Toward the end of my pregnancy, my blood pressure was getting kind of high. You were a week late and the doctor decided that it was time for you to come out. After a breakfast of Egg McMuffins, your dad and I went into the hospital on a Tuesday morning. I spent most of the afternoon with strong contractions, two minutes apart lasting for a minute and a half each (that means only 30 seconds of "down time") but the nice doctors gave me something called an epidural that night and I slept very comfortably. I listened to your heartbeat through a series of probes and machines. The doctor seemed to have some trouble connecting a probe to your head. I should have known something was up then. Sometime around 2 am, I heard your heartbeat slow down. Before I even had a chance to call for help, there were several people in my hospital room tending to us. They stopped my contractions to give you a break. At 5 am, Dr. DeAngelis came into the room, told me that even though my body was doing everything it could to push you out, I was not making enough progress for you to come out. So they gave daddy scrubs and wheeled me into an operating room.
Your birth was the most surreal experience of my life. Your daddy walked into the operating room in his scrubs and I did not even recognize him until he put his hand on my shoulder. I was shaking. I tried not to but the nice doctor who turned up the epidural told me that there was no way I'd be able to control it because of my hormones. I was worried that the doctor would have a hard time taking you out of my tummy but before I knew it, I heard you cry. You were born on a Wednesday morning, a little after 6:00. The nurse brought you over to me to show me what you looked like. You were so small but still bigger than I expected you to be. I could not believe it when they said that you weighed over eight pounds. They wrapped you in blankets and your daddy brought you over to show me. But I couldn't really get a good look at you. Then they said that they were going to take us back to our hospital room and that I would have to hold you while they wheeled us out of the OR. I was scared and told them not to but they insisted. We went back to the room and bonded while I tried to feed you.
Later, they moved us to a different room where we stayed for the rest of the our time at the hospital. I was tired and thirsty. The medicine started to wear off and I almost threw up all over you. They took you to the nursery. Your dad and I napped. I had a very long and hard recovery from the operation. It took several weeks for me to be able to stand up without pain. It would break my heart when you would cry and I could not just jump up and take care of you. Your dad was there for this time. He took such good care of us both. I will always be very proud of the way handled everything.
We came home the Saturday after you were born. I was really sick of being in the hospital by then. People came to visit you and grandma even stayed with us for a few days to help out. Daddy took vacation time from work for a month and my leave was for three months. During that time, you and I would do things like watch the Trivial Pursuit game show at 4 am. I'd eat Pop Tarts and we'd take naps while the morning talk shows were on. I liked being home with you and cherished every second.
As the holidays approached, I knew I would have to return to work. It was hard for me to enjoy them because of this. You and I had just settled into a routine. You were also just starting to do cute things like smile and laugh. I cried every day for the last two weeks of our time together. The morning I went back to work, your daddy brought grandma over to our house to watch you for the day. I left the house in tears because I knew how much I would miss you. I came home to see you during my lunch break and before I knew it, the day was over. We took grandma home and I played with you for the rest of the night.
In a few days, you will be six months old. You are beautiful and healthy. You giggle and smile for your dad and me all the time. You love your grandpa and grandma, too. You're not too keen on being around other people. You get that from me. Your eyes are blue and usually a little crusty. Your doctor says you have a blocked tear duct. I hope it clears up. Your hair is a dark blond color with a little bit of red when the light hits it. You like to play on your bouncy chair and your play mat. You hate cereal and fruit. You suck your thumb but only when you are calming yourself down and going to sleep. Sometimes I love you so much it hurts. When your Nana went to heaven, your Gramps told me that she loved me in a way that I would never understand until I had kids of my own. Now I know what he meant.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
WANTED: One Pack of Wolves to Raise My Child
As many of you know, I became a mother exactly one month ago today. It's been a month of adjustment. Not only have I had to deal with getting used to caring for another person, but I've had to recover from having a c-section and some minor setbacks relating to it. Prior to this, I had never been hospitalized, let alone had major surgery. Heck, I hadn't even seen a doctor for about 10 years prior to my pregnancy.
But let me get back to the mothering part. Every day since that fateful day in January when I came home from lunch and took a pregnancy test more or less on a whim to determine whether or not I should go out that night, I've wondered exactly what will I do to fuck up my child. Every parent does something that will somehow scar their kid, perhaps only a little or quite possibly a lot. Usually and hopefully, this is not a deliberate act. But given my propensity for selfishness, fear of growing up and general lack of empathy at times, it's only inevitable that I'm going to somehow cause this child to need some sort of therapy someday. I find that most people can benefit from therapy. And most likely, this need was created somehow by their parents.
Here are what I believe to be my major causes:
Gross hypocrisy - You'll never guess where I'm going tomorrow. Church! That's right. My recovering Catholic ass is going to load my baby into a car seat and sit through a UCC service. Why? Because I've come to realize that while I'm still not really buying into the whole God concept, my earliest childhood memories revolve around the lessons that I learned in church. It isn't even necessarily scripture related. I just mean that it's where I learned to behave in public and tolerate a lot of bullshit (I mentioned the Catholicism thing, right?). I even learned to protest in my early teen years when the priest wanted us to sell carnations to promote some pro-life organization and I politely declined. Even back then I was pro-abortion (not even pro-choice) due to my general hatred of the human race. So while some might think that going to church is a good thing, I can't help but snicker at the fact that I seem to be doing it for all the wrong reasons. I mean, what am I supposed to tell my kid when she asks me why the unicorns never made it on to Noah's Arc?
"Well, sweetie, God just hates freaks."
Isn't that what a lot of churches teach?
Let's get back to that hatred of the human race - I'd like to think I haven't always been so bitter towards my fellow man. At some point, I'm sure I was wide eyed and accepting, never letting the faults and stupidity of others get to me. But that person disappeared and faded into obscurity much like Natalie Halloway. The fact of the matter is that I have little patience for others and I'm annoyed easily. I fear that this will be a major obstacle in teaching my child to be outgoing and how to make friends. I'm afraid she's going to be a loner because she'll pick up on my snicker when Susie speaks with a lisp or my disgust when Brandon picks his nose and eats it. What if she ends up being a snob or an elitist and alienates herself from everyone else? Or worse yet, what if she gets annoyed and angry with others?
Because my knee jerk reaction is to swear like a construction worker - Well, I do work in the construction industry. And it will be a miracle of miracles if her first word is not "twat waffle." This one requires no explanation.
When I told a college friend of mine back in June that I was expecting a girl, her first words to me where, "Oh she is going to be just like you!" Upon hearing this I beamed with delight. How bad could that be? I'm terrified of illegal drugs and have never touched them. I'm ambitious and well educated. I like to think I'm smarter than the average bear. And most importantly, I didn't get pregnant until I was 31 years old, after I had been married for over five years, owned a home, finished my MBA and was financially independent. Sure, I didn't become fully confident and sure of myself until my late 20's, but I never let anyone take advantage of me. And if they came close, they quickly lived to regret it.
I know that's not what she meant. Let's face it. I'm a bitch on wheels. And she probably will be, too. And that's ok as long as she uses it to get over obstacles rather than letting it be an obstacle itself.
And here's to hoping that she does not get my eyesight and Paul's hearing, my aptitude for math and his aptitude for English, my sleeping habits and his cleaning habits and most importantly, his love of the band Foreigner.
But let me get back to the mothering part. Every day since that fateful day in January when I came home from lunch and took a pregnancy test more or less on a whim to determine whether or not I should go out that night, I've wondered exactly what will I do to fuck up my child. Every parent does something that will somehow scar their kid, perhaps only a little or quite possibly a lot. Usually and hopefully, this is not a deliberate act. But given my propensity for selfishness, fear of growing up and general lack of empathy at times, it's only inevitable that I'm going to somehow cause this child to need some sort of therapy someday. I find that most people can benefit from therapy. And most likely, this need was created somehow by their parents.
Here are what I believe to be my major causes:
Gross hypocrisy - You'll never guess where I'm going tomorrow. Church! That's right. My recovering Catholic ass is going to load my baby into a car seat and sit through a UCC service. Why? Because I've come to realize that while I'm still not really buying into the whole God concept, my earliest childhood memories revolve around the lessons that I learned in church. It isn't even necessarily scripture related. I just mean that it's where I learned to behave in public and tolerate a lot of bullshit (I mentioned the Catholicism thing, right?). I even learned to protest in my early teen years when the priest wanted us to sell carnations to promote some pro-life organization and I politely declined. Even back then I was pro-abortion (not even pro-choice) due to my general hatred of the human race. So while some might think that going to church is a good thing, I can't help but snicker at the fact that I seem to be doing it for all the wrong reasons. I mean, what am I supposed to tell my kid when she asks me why the unicorns never made it on to Noah's Arc?
"Well, sweetie, God just hates freaks."
Isn't that what a lot of churches teach?
Let's get back to that hatred of the human race - I'd like to think I haven't always been so bitter towards my fellow man. At some point, I'm sure I was wide eyed and accepting, never letting the faults and stupidity of others get to me. But that person disappeared and faded into obscurity much like Natalie Halloway. The fact of the matter is that I have little patience for others and I'm annoyed easily. I fear that this will be a major obstacle in teaching my child to be outgoing and how to make friends. I'm afraid she's going to be a loner because she'll pick up on my snicker when Susie speaks with a lisp or my disgust when Brandon picks his nose and eats it. What if she ends up being a snob or an elitist and alienates herself from everyone else? Or worse yet, what if she gets annoyed and angry with others?
Because my knee jerk reaction is to swear like a construction worker - Well, I do work in the construction industry. And it will be a miracle of miracles if her first word is not "twat waffle." This one requires no explanation.
When I told a college friend of mine back in June that I was expecting a girl, her first words to me where, "Oh she is going to be just like you!" Upon hearing this I beamed with delight. How bad could that be? I'm terrified of illegal drugs and have never touched them. I'm ambitious and well educated. I like to think I'm smarter than the average bear. And most importantly, I didn't get pregnant until I was 31 years old, after I had been married for over five years, owned a home, finished my MBA and was financially independent. Sure, I didn't become fully confident and sure of myself until my late 20's, but I never let anyone take advantage of me. And if they came close, they quickly lived to regret it.
I know that's not what she meant. Let's face it. I'm a bitch on wheels. And she probably will be, too. And that's ok as long as she uses it to get over obstacles rather than letting it be an obstacle itself.
And here's to hoping that she does not get my eyesight and Paul's hearing, my aptitude for math and his aptitude for English, my sleeping habits and his cleaning habits and most importantly, his love of the band Foreigner.
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