Advice...oy!

I am one of "those" people. The one's who have to literally bit their tongues to keep from telling new mommies exactly what they are doing wrong and how they could do it better. I can't help it. I know they don't want to hear what I have to say and I know that I don't know everything about babies so I really do try not to interfere when I'm not invited to do so but sometimes it's just so tempting.
You see, the thing is that I didn't really know many other mommies when I was a new mother. Everything was hard and my mom was 1000 miles away and even when I talked to her, there was an awful lot that she just couldn't help me with. Case in point. Pudding used to scream her little lungs out on any car ride that lasted more than 10 minutes. We tried music, we tried having me sit next to her, we tried no music, we tried NPR thinking that it would put anyone to sleep. Nothing worked.
I asked my mom what she had done and she told me that when I was little (1981) that she hadn't used a car seat, she'd just put me on the passenger seat next to her and kept a hand on me to make sure I didn't roll off. If I got fussy, she'd just pull over to the side of the rural road and nurse me back into quiet. She was living in rural Wisconsin in a sparsely populated county where the nearest grocery store was two towns over and you could drive for miles and miles without seeing another car. Her experience was not particularly helpful to a mommy living in the DC metro area.
I read books of course, but all of them seemed to disagree or just not to work in real life. One told me that if I went through our nightime routine and then simply placed my daughter in her crib that she would fuss for a while but eventually cry herself out in under 30 minutes. It only shows how desperate we were to get some sleep that we actually tried this. 45 Minutes of hysterics later, Pudding came into bed with us, tears, hiccups and all. The experts underestimated the Pudding's endurance.
The only thing that ever really seemed to help was talking things over with another mother who was going through it. Even if her experience was different from mine, talking things over with her helped to keep me from getting lost in the maze of infancy.
The only problem with this was we were basically the blind leading the blind. Neither of us really knew what we were doing so it was more comparing notes than passing on knowledge. As a result, most of what I know about mothering and babies, I had to learn the hard way, and quick. Here's a short list of the things I figured out so far.

• nursing is not the answer for everything
• potty training is not as scary as you think
• you can't go back to the person you were, motherhood is life altering
• boxed drinks are not to be trusted in the hands of toddlers
• Adjusting expectations changes everything
• modern ideas are all well and good but chances are the way your great-grandmother did it was better
• babies can't tell time, when your baby is still new, you should forget how
• take time to enjoy your baby because you will blink and they'll be toddlers
• babywearing is way more fun than a stroller
• The second one is easier because you are already a mother, the transition is less stressful
  
• trust your body, trust your baby, trust the process that nature set up

Part of the reason I started this blog and started writing for examiner.com was so that I could get some of this hard won knowledge to new mothers who may need it and who don't have anyone else to ask.
So if I accost you in the grocery store about the joys of babywearing or offer to help you with your latch at a cafe, I apologize. I know this advice is not really wanted. But please know that it comes from a place of love for mommies everywhere and an understanding of how hard the job unfamiliar the territory can seem.

More on Parenthood and identity

Most of you know that I write for examiner.com as well as this little blog. A while ago I did a piece on parenthood and identity that was read by a woman producing a play for DC Fringe fest. I haven't seen the play yet but from what I understand the play deals with three women who have recently become mothers who feel that they are losing themselves in the job, something like that. I have been asked to review this play (!) when it is performed at the festival and I'm going to do a "Q&A" with the writer and producer to gain some background on it before I see it.
So first of all, let me just freak out for a minute that someone who is not related to me or friendly with me actually reads my column and likes it!!!!! Ok, I'm composed again.
Secondly, all this talk about the identity crisis that new mothers go through got me thinking a few more thoughts on what I'd already written and I'd like to share them with you. If you'd like to read my original post, here it is.
The first thing I thought about after re-reading this was Madonna. I'm a child of the 80's and 90's so I saw or heard about Madonna going from the creepy/slutty pop star to the sex goddess to Evita and now suddenly she's the mother of many kids and seems perfectly happy to be Mrs. Richie(?) for the rest of her life. Do you think she misses the pointy bra or regrets giving it up to be a mother? My guess is no because, as much fun as I'm sure the pointy bra was, it's not compatible with the other choices she's made and you just can't pull that stuff off after a certain age. She reinvented herself to fit the life she wanted and that is what we women have to do in order to fulfill our goals. Our lives and our identities are not static, they are constantly changing and evolving based on the choices we make.
The second thing I thought of was how long life is and how short childhood is. The average life expectancy is now past 70 but if you choose to be at home with your children while they are small, you're looking at anywhere from 5 to 15 years, depending on how you space those babies. That leaves another 55 years (35 if you subtract the first 20 for your own childhood) to do whatever else you want to do. Being with your children and giving yourself over to their needs is a temporary arrangement unless your kid is one of those that doesn't mind sleeping on his Batman sheets until he's 45.
The other thing about the timing of motherhood that I have never seen in one of those expert books is how much easier it all gets after the first year. For that first year you can feel like you're drowning. You have time for nothing and you are never off duty. But after your baby's first birthday, suddenly you have a lot more options. Your partner can take on a lot more of the baby work that they couldn't do before. Things like feeding and nap schedules are suddenly much easier because your baby has turned into someone who eats people food and who doesn't need a breast in their face ever 3 hours. You can spend a few hours with a friend, you can go grocery shopping by yourself, you can take a class at your community center (I totally recommend Belly Dancing 1), you can get out. Plus, your baby is now learning to play independently at a year so there is less pressure on you when you are there to entertain them. Compared to the life you had before children it won't seem like much but after one year with a baby, you will feel like a free woman.
My final point is the same as that in my examiner.com post but I think it bears repeating. Children are an investment that lasts. Investing your time and your talents with your children and your family and really being there for them when they need you isn't something that can ever be taken away. You may look back at your life and wish you'd done things differently. You may wish you'd traveled more, experienced more, taken a different path from time to time, but you will never regret the time you spent with your kids. That time is precious and is worth far more than all the promotions, raises, and accomplishments that would otherwise define you.
And so, to all the new mommies out there who feel so overwhelmed right now, know that this to shall pass. Your baby won't always want your undivided attention, you toddler won't always want one more story, your preschooler won't always want to ask you about your day. So if you put in the time now, you give your undivided attention, one more story or lesson from your day, you can know that you are planting something that lasts far longer than the next nap time. As hard as it is, you can get through it and you'll be glad you did.

The questionable importance of "Date night"

I've been thinking about this a lot lately. When you're married with little ones having date night is a tough thing to come by. There are sitters to arrange, reservations to make, curling irons to reaquaint oneself with. It's a big production.
Then, once you actually get out without the kids, what do you do with yourselves? Last date night, Dilbert and I went to a very loud restaurant with good food which meant we both ate too much and paid too much for it and could barely hear ourselves speak much less each other. We managed to chat through the din but it was tough going. After that we went to the book store and browsed around for a while before we both settled down with a stack of magazines and books and read. While all this was nice to be able to do, it wasn't exactly a bonding experience for us. We chatted about when we'd plan our next baby, Dilberts crazy plan to arm himself (more on that later) and the prospect of homeschooling our kids. All of this is stuff that we've talked about before with our without the kids around.
While it was nice to have a break from being on call for the kids, it's not like you get a weight lifted from your shoulders when you walk out the door. You don't get a break from being a parent because it's who you are, not something you do. Babysitter or not, you are where the buck stops whether you're in the house or not. So to the mommies out there, don't think that a night out is a night off because there is no night off.
As far as being good for our marriage, date night was a bit of a bust there as well. I had built up so many expectations for what our date ought to be that when it wasn't this big romantic extravaganza, I got hurt. That's not my husbands fault, it's mine. I wanted us to have this sweet romantic time like we used to when we were newlyweds or when we were dating but we aren't those people anymore and romance has changed. Romance is now him saying "I cleaned out the cat box for you because I know how much you hate when it gets smelly," or "This meatloaf is awesome!" Romance is now a door propped open when I'm struggling to get the Tyke, Pudding and two bags of groceries into the house while not letting the cat out. Romance is not a box of chocolates and a bunch of flowers anymore. I value the other things more but even I occasionally forget and succumb to the Hallmark expectations of romance, yet when these things are actually presented to me, I wonder why he'd spend the time and money on something so silly as flowers. (Note to Dilbert: This doesn't mean you're off the hook for flowers for big occasions or any occasion at all, I do enjoy them and they are a wonderful and thoughtful gift. My point is only that I value many other things as romantic besides them.)
My point here is not that we shouldn't do date night, it's fun to actually get out without the kids and do things we can't do with them. However, it's not something that will make or break our marriage. Cleaning out the cat box might but certainly not date night. All joking asside, our marriage hinges on mutual respect and our willingness to meet each others needs. The way we translate that respect and willingness into our daily routine is what makes or breaks us and all the fancy diners and outings in the world wouldn't fix it if that were missing.
Between the carried responsibility of parenthood, the price of date night, the expectations and the changes of romance, dates just ain't what they used to be. Most of the time, I'd rather be curled up next to him watching bad TV after putting the kids to bed. That would only require sweat pants and the remote, that sounds like my kind of date.

Bull by the horns

On Tuesday night I attended my first Over-eaters Anonymous(OA) meeting. Since we had a bunch of snow that night and people in Virginia don't travel once the flakes fly, there were only 4 people there so there was no chance to sit in the back of the room and just check it out, no sir, I was 25% of the group that night so I did my share of reading and sharing and get-to-know you stuff.
I suppose it is a good thing, people there know me and hope that I'll come back, I'm more accountable than if I'd been able to sit in the back of the room.
What impressed me most was how seriously everyone there took this thing. There weren't any jokes about pigging-out or self-deprecating remarks about waistlines or pants size. The people there introduced themselves by their first name and their problem and they spoke so seriously about the long hard look they'd had to take at themselves and how they had to continue to take that look everyday. They also talked a lot about how they have to surrender their addiction to God and relying on a higher power to master and control their compulsion.
I am now at about 36 hours of "abstinence" which means I haven't pigged out or deviated from my food plan since before my meeting which is a big deal for me as I live in my kitchen surrounded by food. I am constantly preparing various snacks and such for my two crazy people and I had to be very mindful and stop myself a couple of times from not falling into old habits like finishing off the Pudding's PB&J (she never eats the crusts) or snacking on a cookie or piece of bread while I was fixing lunch or diner.
As I finish this I've now finished my 2nd full day of abstinence and it's growing on me. Keep your fingers crossed.

Adventures in Co-Mothering

Amid the chaos of 5 children under 4 I coudln't help but notice the way mothers are like soldiers. I put this together after watching the Hurt Locker, a film about a squad of soldiers who diffuse bombs in Iraq. As the soldiers move through a building they move as one organism. They seem to be able to read each others moves and respond accordingly. They're doesn't have to be any verbal confirmation of goal, they are well trained and know what needs to be done so when one sees the other do one part of the task at hand, he jumps right in and does the rest.
My friend Fergy and I are becoming like this. I have two children and she has three. Our oldest ones are exactly a week apart and we've know each other since before they were born. We know each other well enough to be able to read what the other needs most of the time. When the Pudding is screaming that she doesn't want to go, Fergy is packing up my diaper bag and hanging it on my shoulder while I frog march Pudding out the door. When Fergy is wrangeling her two boys into hats, coats and mittens, I rock her baby. When one child pushes another, one of us jumps in to comfort and the other to reprimand in one seamless action.
It helps that we've grown up as mothers together. We met in childbirth classes while we were both going through the shock and awe that is ones first pregnancy. When our babies were born, we adjusted to the life of a mom together and were able to learn so much from each other. We spent many afternoons walking our neighborhoods and checking to see what the other did for diaper rash and what kind of sleep schedule actually worked. We saw each other work through the conflict between the ideas we had about motherhood and its reality and we know which side won.
My message to all you mommies or mommies-to-be out there is to find a friend like this, someone to go through the struggle with. A war buddy, a traveling partner, someone who knows what you're going through and doesn't expect more than you can give because they are going through the same stuff. It has been invaluable to have a friend like this. She always says something to make me feel normal when I feel that I'm loosing my marbles and tells me I'm a good mom when things feel like they're unraveling. She knows how hard it is to loose the baby weight and how tough potty training can be and what a challenge it is to choose a preschool for your child. Not to mention how weird it is that we're old enough to be choosing preschools.
I am so grateful to have found someone to go through these trenches with so to all you future mummies out there, I wish you the same. Thanks Fergy!

Houston...we have a problem

All of my life I've felt like a big girl. Most of that time I wasn't actually fat, just (quite literally) big boned. I'm tall, I have a large frame and next to the average woman I look like someone hit the zoom in button. Just like the average woman only everything is bigger.
When I was in my early twenties I worked very hard on becoming OK with this. I told myself that I was never going to be small and petite. I wasn't ever going to be a pin up but I could be attractive in my own way. I worked really hard at that but while I was starting to feel better about myself the numbers on the scale were ever so slowly creeping up.
One of the side effects of being a larger person is that you have to gain 10 to 15 pounds before you really notice it in your body. I'd see that my weight was up 6 lbs and not be too worried about it because I knew that if I skipped lunch and danced all night it would go away. That worked for a long time. But while I was busy ignoring the actual numbers on the scale, I was developing some deplorable eating habits.
I loved getting late night gyros at Mon Cheri in Georgetown after dancing and drinking all night with my friends. The place would be packed with fellow drinkers and lively conversation always ensued. All this over some greasy "Lamb" and a pita. I also fell in love with Mountain Dew and Cheesy Puffs from 7-11. This was cheep and when I was broke, it was occasionally my diner.
Then I met my husband, a man who loves to analyze the various distinctions between domestic Cheddar, who glories in a good Steak Au Poirve and spent years developing a pasta dish based on one at his favorite restaurant. He was a foodie and I knew how to cook, it was a match made in heaven.
So I started cooking for him and over the years I've gotten pretty good. I've developed a few of my own recipes and I know how to make things taste good. The problem is that the way to make things taste good is to add salt and fat, usually butter. Really, is there anything better than that combo right there? We went to a restaurant in New York called Prune and were served the lowly radish with butter and sea salt, it was a revelation. Butter and salt can make anything good.
As babies have come into our lives and I no longer have that "no one besides your mother will love you if you get too fat" voice in my head to spur me to occasional starvation, the weight has crept up further than I thought was possible. And now, with two kids constantly demanding to be fed I find myself no longer able to pass myself off as just "big boned."
What's worse is that my compulsion to eat is getting stronger and harder to hide. When I was on my own I could curl up with a box of donuts and a bottle of merlot without anyone noticing but now with a family I find myself turning my back on my kids while they eat lunch so that they won't see me scarf down a brownie.
My real addiction is Chic-fil-a. They have a drive through and people who speak English and say thank you for stopping at Chic-fil-a. They have sinfully delicious waffle fries and chicken fingers that are the awesome. I am disgusted with myself for pulling into the parking lot but I don't ever turn around and drive away.
And this brings me to my point. I've been saying that I want to loose weight for years but in truth that's not it. What I want to loose this year is the sick and twisted compulsion to eat, the urge to eat out of boredom , the urge to eat only things that will be bad for me. I want to loose the urge to self-destruct.
To that end I have decided to join Overeaters Anonymous when we get back from Wisconsin. They don't have a meeting that I can get to before the trip or I would do it then but better late than never I guess. This year I am deciding to confront my food and body issues in a way that I have never really done before. In admitting that this is something that needs fixing rather a simple opting out of the skinny olympics, I hope to finally get this monkey off my back and go back to simply being big boned.

Thrill Issues

I was at a birth today. It was a beautiful, spiritual, life-affirming home birth and I felt so honored to share in it with this family. Another close friend has had a baby recently and these two other moms and I have been joking that in another few months I'll have to get pregnant or I'll break our string of babies. Between the three of us we've had at least one baby born every year since 2005. Since this baby just made it over the line into 2010, I think I'm off the hook until 2011 which is a good thing.
The Tyke just turned a year old on the 30th. He's a big, happy, healthy boy and he's working on being as independent as he can but he's still my baby. He still looks to me for comfort when the Pudding doesn't want to play with him. He loves the pudding and is devastated when she doesn't want to play. He still needs to be held for 30 minutes after every nap. He still needs to be the baby whenever life gets too overwhelming.
Lately I've been jonsing for a new baby. I hold my friends newborn in my arms and look down at that squished up little face and those blinky newborn eyes and I swear I can feel an ovary jump. I also love hanging out with my midwives and the only time I get to do that is when I'm pregnant. I love all the attention you get as a pregnant woman. People smile at you, wish you good luck, ask you how you're feeling. Some pregnant women hate that stuff but I eat it up.
I love the whole process of what your body does during pregnancy and birth. It's all so primal. You have to learn to listen to your body and do what it wants. You have to learn the process and get out of the way. You have to learn to take care of yourself so that lack of sleep, poor nutrition and fear don't get in the way of this awesome force of nature. I actually hate the experience of being pregnant. The weird joints and the big belly are not much fun to deal with but I love the process and I love birth.
I had a home birth with the Tyke and when I made it through that I felt like there was nothing I couldn't do. My body built a giant, perfect baby and got him out in once piece, what can life throw at me that I can't handle?
I'm missing the high of that experience. I think that's what it really is. I love babies and I love my kids and I want more but right now I know another baby just isn't the best idea. My baby needs to be the baby for a little while longer and I need to get to know who that little person is before we add to our little family. So as much as I may love the idea of having another one, now is not the season. I'm just going to have to find more births to attend to take care of my thrill issues.