We ran to the mall this afternoon, after attending a birthday party. I left Miss H with J at Target while I ran to grab something quickly from a different store, lugging baby B with me. As I passed American Eagle, I sadly overheard a mother tell her daughter, who looked to be about 10 or 11, "I am not paying thirty dollars for a pair of shorts that you're just going to eat yourself out of in a few weeks anyway."
Seriously, my heart broke for that little girl. There were SO many things wrong with that situation.
1.) That's her mother! The one person in the world who is supposed to love, support, be kind and gentle, and give words of praise. Not a person who should degrade or bully her!!
2.) She's a little girl! Why would anyone say such a hateful thing to a little girl, let alone to their own child!?
3.) She's a little girl! She doesn't buy the groceries or get to make food choices, her momma does! How sad that her mother would put that on her child. She's under 18. She doesn't decide what goes in the cart.
There are a lot more thing that were wrong with that scenario, but I digress. I walked into Target, holding baby B closer with tears threatening to make me look weak, and J was immediately all over that, asking what had happened. I immediately told him what I had overheard, which, of course, pissed him off.
"Unfortunately we live in a world where it's acceptable to make fun of and degrade our children. And many people do it in a joking manner, so they think it's okay. But I guarantee you it's not okay to the kid."
"I know," I agreed. Because I do.
I really wish I'd had the courage to intervene and say something instead of just walking on by like a shocked, appalled, crybaby.
I'll say an extra little prayer for that sweet girl tonight. I hope she realizes that she's beautiful, whether her shorts are a size 4 or 14. And I'll pray for her momma, too. That she realizes the same thing of her perfect daughter.
Because our children deserve better from us.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Friday, June 22, 2012
Big families impress me
Most days I feel like I'm going to lose my cookies with just the two kiddos. And seriously, anyone with even one child is a rock star in my book, so when I see people with 2+, I'm always amazed. Especially when they are such calm, well-mannered, well-behaved kids.
Not going to lie, I don't really look forward to running errands with two babes in tow. It seems like a task that would take me 20 minutes takes 2 hours when I have kids with. It drives me a bit insane.
But I do it. Obviously. J has been gone far more than he has been home since baby B was born. And it's not like we could go 10 months without eating! So I run all my errands with the kids, and really, it's become second nature. It's only when I get small indulgences and run to the store for tomatoes all by myself, that I remember how much easier it is on my own.
Or when I see someone with half a dozen kids and think that surely I shouldn't feel insane with just two!
While picking up some snack foods at Target today (we finally got Plum Organics here!), both babes in tow, plus J, which is always handy, we came across a lady with seven, yes, seven, children. All under the age of 10 roughly.
These children were all well-groomed, they stood beside or were nicely seated in the cart. The oldest pushed a stroller where the youngest babe sat in her bucket seat. That smiling baby alone amazed me! We had to give up the bucket seat long, long ago as baby B would just scream in it. And this sweet girl looked fairly older than baby B, but she just smiled on.
All the children smiled at us, none of them were loud. I had to do a double take at my own little baby, yelling in gibberish to me from his seat in the cart while my little tyrant of a daughter filled my cart with whatever she cared to put in there. The baby had milk spots on his onesie from where I'd just fed him and he'd been distracted and yeah...there'd been milk everywhere.
Miss H's pigtails were lopsided, her lips had a coffee mustaches (don't slay me!). I only had two babes and J was with today, and my kids were still mussed up by 10am, loud, and probably more rambunctious than this lady's brew had ever dreamed of being.
I wanted to ask her her secrets. How she got them all to be so calm and sweet and ever so behaved.
And not just her. But all big families I've come across. I mean, really, how many times have you come across a family with more than 5 kids and thought "Well, those kids are crazy little buggers?" I mean, typically kids of many are always so sweet and well-behaved. At least around here.
They amaze me. They impress me. They astound me.
They make me want to have half a dozen.
Until I realize that adding four more would not make my kids behave differently. They'd still be crazy, jumping off the walls, independent, stubborn, sassy, wonderful babes. I'd just have more of them.
And way less sanity.
But seriously, I bow to the mommas out there who do it. You're Goddesses. You really are.
Not going to lie, I don't really look forward to running errands with two babes in tow. It seems like a task that would take me 20 minutes takes 2 hours when I have kids with. It drives me a bit insane.
But I do it. Obviously. J has been gone far more than he has been home since baby B was born. And it's not like we could go 10 months without eating! So I run all my errands with the kids, and really, it's become second nature. It's only when I get small indulgences and run to the store for tomatoes all by myself, that I remember how much easier it is on my own.
Or when I see someone with half a dozen kids and think that surely I shouldn't feel insane with just two!
While picking up some snack foods at Target today (we finally got Plum Organics here!), both babes in tow, plus J, which is always handy, we came across a lady with seven, yes, seven, children. All under the age of 10 roughly.
These children were all well-groomed, they stood beside or were nicely seated in the cart. The oldest pushed a stroller where the youngest babe sat in her bucket seat. That smiling baby alone amazed me! We had to give up the bucket seat long, long ago as baby B would just scream in it. And this sweet girl looked fairly older than baby B, but she just smiled on.
All the children smiled at us, none of them were loud. I had to do a double take at my own little baby, yelling in gibberish to me from his seat in the cart while my little tyrant of a daughter filled my cart with whatever she cared to put in there. The baby had milk spots on his onesie from where I'd just fed him and he'd been distracted and yeah...there'd been milk everywhere.
Miss H's pigtails were lopsided, her lips had a coffee mustaches (don't slay me!). I only had two babes and J was with today, and my kids were still mussed up by 10am, loud, and probably more rambunctious than this lady's brew had ever dreamed of being.
I wanted to ask her her secrets. How she got them all to be so calm and sweet and ever so behaved.
And not just her. But all big families I've come across. I mean, really, how many times have you come across a family with more than 5 kids and thought "Well, those kids are crazy little buggers?" I mean, typically kids of many are always so sweet and well-behaved. At least around here.
They amaze me. They impress me. They astound me.
They make me want to have half a dozen.
Until I realize that adding four more would not make my kids behave differently. They'd still be crazy, jumping off the walls, independent, stubborn, sassy, wonderful babes. I'd just have more of them.
And way less sanity.
But seriously, I bow to the mommas out there who do it. You're Goddesses. You really are.
Sometimes being a good mom sucks
Like when you have amazingly beautiful, ripe blackberries and sun sugar tomatoes in your garden. And you fantasize all morning about eating them. And when you finally go outside to pick them your kids look at you in horror - like how could you eat their succulent fruits? So instead you just crawl through weeds and lift up berry branches so they can find and pick all the ripe ones themselves and devour them as if they are the ambrosia of the Gods. Yeah, I don't care who you are, sometimes being a "good" mom just sucks. That's all I'm saying.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
I'm not a tree hugger, just cheap
It seems that everyone equates cloth diapers with tree huggers. Really, I'm not a tree hugger. Sometimes I wish I was. They are all free-love and seem to have no care in the world. But, regardless, I'm just not a tree hugger. Sure, it's nice that cloth diapers seem to be environmental friendly, it's like a bonus. But I'd never do it because they're kind to Mother Earth. I'm just not that good of a person, to be honest.
The main reason I cloth diaper is because it is CHEAP. Like, to the extreme. We do disposable diapers (7th Generation) at nighttime and when we are travelling. And just in those, I can guarantee we've spent at least 5x on the sposies than we have our entire, rather extensive, cloth collection. That's a lot of money. (A baby goes through approx $2,500 in disposable diapers before potty learning...)
Our babes also have sensitive skin, so really the only diapers we can use are expensive disposables...but to be blatantly honest, I wouldn't want the other diapers on my babes anyway. Don't get me wrong, we've used them. Before I fully realized what was in them. Now it's no way, Jose! Not in a million years. (Okay, if we were in a pinch and needed a dipe and that was all someone else had on them...)
Besides, cloth diapering is easy. No matter what kind you use. Throw them in the wash every few days. Use again. Pretty simple. There really isn't an ick factor. It's not like you are actually touching poop. And quite frankly, your kid's poop just really isn't that big of a deal.
Also, cloth diapers are cute! I mean, baby B crawls around with math problems and bicycles on his bum! What's cuter than that?
So no, I'm really not a tree hugger. Just incredibly cheap.
The main reason I cloth diaper is because it is CHEAP. Like, to the extreme. We do disposable diapers (7th Generation) at nighttime and when we are travelling. And just in those, I can guarantee we've spent at least 5x on the sposies than we have our entire, rather extensive, cloth collection. That's a lot of money. (A baby goes through approx $2,500 in disposable diapers before potty learning...)
Our babes also have sensitive skin, so really the only diapers we can use are expensive disposables...but to be blatantly honest, I wouldn't want the other diapers on my babes anyway. Don't get me wrong, we've used them. Before I fully realized what was in them. Now it's no way, Jose! Not in a million years. (Okay, if we were in a pinch and needed a dipe and that was all someone else had on them...)
Besides, cloth diapering is easy. No matter what kind you use. Throw them in the wash every few days. Use again. Pretty simple. There really isn't an ick factor. It's not like you are actually touching poop. And quite frankly, your kid's poop just really isn't that big of a deal.
Also, cloth diapers are cute! I mean, baby B crawls around with math problems and bicycles on his bum! What's cuter than that?
So no, I'm really not a tree hugger. Just incredibly cheap.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
I am humbled
It's a little crazy. I started this blog at the prompting of a dear, sweet, pregnant friend of mine. She was asking me, nearly hourly, all kinds of questions about pregnancy, birth, newborns, toddlers. Pretty much everything I have experience with thus far (go figure). She'd ask random things, insightful things, sometimes even things I hadn't even yet thought of. Sometimes, quite frankly, it was exhausting (and I know she is only laughing at this, because it's true!). Finally, after she said for the umpteenth time that I should just start a blog so I can write down whatever comes to my mind about parenting or pregnancy or whatever, and she can read it at her leisure, I finally agreed. Because when I ask others for advice, I'm sure it's annoying, but I'm greatly happy that they oblige me and take time out of their busy lives to shoot me a text back or answer an email.
To be honest, it's become crazy therapeutic for me. Can you tell by how many posts I've all ready accumulated? But, when the babes are napping and I have to sit and hold baby B, or after they're in bed, then I've got the time. So I'm sure some of them are a bit jumbled due to typing with one hand and never proof-reading because someone wakes up before I remember to do it. Oh, well.
But I'm truly humbled by what has transpired since I have began this blog. I've gotten over 30 emails from people, both male and female, some who I know, some who I do not, telling me that they agree with xyz, or they never thought of xyz before, or thanks for taking the words right out of their mouths.
Who'd have thought that the ramblings of a crazy girl could actually mean anything to anyone, right? Or that anyone would even bother to read them? I'm certainly not complaining, but it is not what I was expecting at all. I'm very used to marching to my own drum, so realizing that there are others marching to it, even if quieted in the shadows, is nice.
But, I should get back to cleaning the house. Hurricane H has struck massively today as I spent most of it walking in circles with baby B who is pissed off at the world because he's getting more teeth. But he did take some time off from screaming to discover that he can take five whole steps without stumbling. And he's getting pretty good at it.
So just wait for the post about two toddlers running in different directions and how I take J's advice and push one down while chasing after the other. Kidding. I'm totally kidding. I'd never push my kid down. Trip them, on the other hand...
To be honest, it's become crazy therapeutic for me. Can you tell by how many posts I've all ready accumulated? But, when the babes are napping and I have to sit and hold baby B, or after they're in bed, then I've got the time. So I'm sure some of them are a bit jumbled due to typing with one hand and never proof-reading because someone wakes up before I remember to do it. Oh, well.
But I'm truly humbled by what has transpired since I have began this blog. I've gotten over 30 emails from people, both male and female, some who I know, some who I do not, telling me that they agree with xyz, or they never thought of xyz before, or thanks for taking the words right out of their mouths.
Who'd have thought that the ramblings of a crazy girl could actually mean anything to anyone, right? Or that anyone would even bother to read them? I'm certainly not complaining, but it is not what I was expecting at all. I'm very used to marching to my own drum, so realizing that there are others marching to it, even if quieted in the shadows, is nice.
But, I should get back to cleaning the house. Hurricane H has struck massively today as I spent most of it walking in circles with baby B who is pissed off at the world because he's getting more teeth. But he did take some time off from screaming to discover that he can take five whole steps without stumbling. And he's getting pretty good at it.
So just wait for the post about two toddlers running in different directions and how I take J's advice and push one down while chasing after the other. Kidding. I'm totally kidding. I'd never push my kid down. Trip them, on the other hand...
It's tough, but totally worth it
Most people don't "get" breastfeeding a toddler. It's cool, I get it. Anything outside of our own norm makes us pause.
I wasn't breastfed as a toddler. Before I had kids, I didn't have friends who had breastfed toddlers. So it's not like I had anyone advocating to me to do it. Or to even think about doing it.
And yet I am. And it's challenging. And some days it really sucks. But to be honest, what sucks most about it the majority of the time is to have no one to talk to about it who actually gets it. Okay, to talk to about it at all. Nearly everyone I know, rather they chose to bottle-feed for breast feed, just do not support extended breastfeeding. And that's hard. Because that means they don't support me. And while I certainly don't do anything because people are supporting me, it's nice to know sometimes that there is support when you need it.
People I actually know have made fun of children who extend breastfeed. Yes, adults making fun of children. Terribly disgusting. I've heard people refer to extended breastfeeding as sexual abuse or psychologically harmful. Both of which are absolutely ridiculous.
A lot of people even think the only reason someone breastfeeds past a year is for attention. Really?
There are a LOT of reasons to breastfeed past one year, but I'm pretty sure that all extended breastfeeders wouldn't miss a beat in agreeing that "showing off" certainly is not one of them.
Breastfeeding a toddler can be challenging. I've certainly had days (if not weeks) when I've struggled to keep myself from just screaming "That's it, you're done!" I just keep reminding myself that there are lots of reasons to keep going, and they outweigh the reasons to forcibly wean Miss H.
Just to list a few ....
1.) When Miss H is sick, I cherish being able to soothe her so easily while simultaneously providing her with immune boosting antibodies.
2.) I have always been comfortable nursing in publicand continue to do so. I love that I have a secret weapon to whip out in public situations that might require a non-nursing Mom to rush her cranky toddler out of sight.
3.) I love having an excuse to snuggle with my busy girl, and put my feet up. For a few minutes anyway, it's just her and I in a bubble of love and nothing else can bother us.
4.) I really feel that nursing her at this age is teaching her to be gentle with others. It also teaches her patience "Wait util Mommy finshes this, love." It teaches her to be aware of other people's feelings.
5.) While I realize she doesn't need breast milk, knowing that she gets it eases my worries about nutrition. So if the only thing she eats all day is a can of tuna (true story!), I know she's just fine.
7.) Most of all, I love that she loves it. More than anything else in this world, I want my children to be happy and (for me at least) breastfeeding is an easy way to accomplish that.
So some days it's tough for me, but at the end of the day it's always worth it. And since I'm not one who generally gives a flying frak as to what others think, I won't be cutting her off any time soon. (Though some days I think she may not be too far off from stopping on her own..)
I wasn't breastfed as a toddler. Before I had kids, I didn't have friends who had breastfed toddlers. So it's not like I had anyone advocating to me to do it. Or to even think about doing it.
And yet I am. And it's challenging. And some days it really sucks. But to be honest, what sucks most about it the majority of the time is to have no one to talk to about it who actually gets it. Okay, to talk to about it at all. Nearly everyone I know, rather they chose to bottle-feed for breast feed, just do not support extended breastfeeding. And that's hard. Because that means they don't support me. And while I certainly don't do anything because people are supporting me, it's nice to know sometimes that there is support when you need it.
People I actually know have made fun of children who extend breastfeed. Yes, adults making fun of children. Terribly disgusting. I've heard people refer to extended breastfeeding as sexual abuse or psychologically harmful. Both of which are absolutely ridiculous.
A lot of people even think the only reason someone breastfeeds past a year is for attention. Really?
There are a LOT of reasons to breastfeed past one year, but I'm pretty sure that all extended breastfeeders wouldn't miss a beat in agreeing that "showing off" certainly is not one of them.
Breastfeeding a toddler can be challenging. I've certainly had days (if not weeks) when I've struggled to keep myself from just screaming "That's it, you're done!" I just keep reminding myself that there are lots of reasons to keep going, and they outweigh the reasons to forcibly wean Miss H.
Just to list a few ....
1.) When Miss H is sick, I cherish being able to soothe her so easily while simultaneously providing her with immune boosting antibodies.
2.) I have always been comfortable nursing in publicand continue to do so. I love that I have a secret weapon to whip out in public situations that might require a non-nursing Mom to rush her cranky toddler out of sight.
3.) I love having an excuse to snuggle with my busy girl, and put my feet up. For a few minutes anyway, it's just her and I in a bubble of love and nothing else can bother us.
4.) I really feel that nursing her at this age is teaching her to be gentle with others. It also teaches her patience "Wait util Mommy finshes this, love." It teaches her to be aware of other people's feelings.
5.) While I realize she doesn't need breast milk, knowing that she gets it eases my worries about nutrition. So if the only thing she eats all day is a can of tuna (true story!), I know she's just fine.
7.) Most of all, I love that she loves it. More than anything else in this world, I want my children to be happy and (for me at least) breastfeeding is an easy way to accomplish that.
So some days it's tough for me, but at the end of the day it's always worth it. And since I'm not one who generally gives a flying frak as to what others think, I won't be cutting her off any time soon. (Though some days I think she may not be too far off from stopping on her own..)
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Going it alone...
So here is to another week of virtually single-mommyhood.
Of course, J is an awesome husband and the best papa that there ever could be, but, unfortunately, he is forced to travel for work. A lot.
Really, I shouldn't complain. 1.) I knew what I was signing up for (theoretically anyway, I didn't realize how hard it would be in practice). 2.) He travels waaaaay less now than he ever did before we were married with babes.
Still, it's hard. Yesterday, when he walked out the room initially to leave, baby B cried and reached out for him. It's sweet, I suppose. Especially since most of the time Bdoesn't seem to really care if J is around or not. I know it made J feel loved. So he came back and spent a few minutes holding and playing with him, which was beautiful to witness. There is something about seeing my husband with our children that is both incredibly beautiful and absolutely sexy.
Miss H said her obligatory good-byes, prompted J to give her, baby B, and myself besos, and then proceeded to have him kiss her kitchen, fake bird, baby doll, etc. Being the amazing papa he is, J obliged her. Then she watched him through the window as he drove away, standing on her plastic farm, which I was certain was going to fall over and put her through the window.
H does well without J. For a while. She can make it nearly his entire work day being okay. But by the evening she is typically breaking down, in need of her papa. I make it about as long to be honest, but of course the babes never see that. I am Momma. I am strong.
She made it to nap-time, then fussed for a few minutes for Papa. She's used to this routine though. Not that it makes it any easier. On any of us.
When J is gone I feel very lonely. Really, at the end of the day, he is the only person I have to talk to. Sure, I have friends. So many categories of them, in fact.
I have the friends I've had since my school years. They are great to reminisce with. To talk about basic things. But I can't really talk to them. We are at drastically different places in our lives. I mean, of course we are! We're only 24 years old. They're all in grad school, or just starting off on their own. They're not happily married with children all ready. And that's okay. Just makes it difficult to talk about much. Since, well, my children are my life. They're pretty much all I have to talk about.
I have my "mom" friends. My social circle definitely expanded significantly after having kids. I love my mom friends. Really and truly. There are days I probably couldn't function without them. But once again, I can't really talk to them. I mean, I'm just not close enough to them I guess, where I feel comfortable picking up the phone and saying, "I'm about to lose my shit. How's the weather your way?" And I feel like when I do vent to someone, I'm really just putting them out, because who wants to listen to someone vent about something they signed up for, you know?
I have my family, which of course, are friends. But I won't lie, I'm not terribly close to most of my family. Not from lack of trying, but it is what it is. It's nice to send them pictures of the kids and hear they're cute, but other than that, not so great for real conversation.
I don't have that friend that you pick up the phone and call when your toddler continually pushes every button, and the baby won't stop crying no matter what you do, and no one has napped all day and you're so on edge you could burst.
Other than J.
He is that friend for me. So when he is on travel, when he is virtually unavailable to me all day, every day, for a week or more at a time, it's really hard.
He is the person I vent to, or who I lament that I veered from eating Paleo and now the baby is vomiting again. He is the person who triumphs with me in our daughter learning new things and the baby taking steps. He is the person who I can discuss parenting beliefs and dietary needs and my goals for the future and any other random thing that might come into my head.
He is my best friend.
So although I can live without him. I can function. We get through all of our day-to-day hubub. I still miss him. I'd rather him be home. And so would the babes.
But we are lucky, I suppose. He could travel more. He could be home less.
At least when he is home he makes it count. When he is physically home, and the babes are awake, his attention and time is 110% directed toward them. Playing with and teaching them. Everything else comes second, as it should. He is not a sports fan or a video gamer. Nothing gets his attention over his children, and for that we are all truly grateful. They are first. As they should be.
So even when he is gone, they know they still matter. I know I still matter. And we just count down the days until he's home again. Which is never soon enough!
Of course, J is an awesome husband and the best papa that there ever could be, but, unfortunately, he is forced to travel for work. A lot.
Really, I shouldn't complain. 1.) I knew what I was signing up for (theoretically anyway, I didn't realize how hard it would be in practice). 2.) He travels waaaaay less now than he ever did before we were married with babes.
Still, it's hard. Yesterday, when he walked out the room initially to leave, baby B cried and reached out for him. It's sweet, I suppose. Especially since most of the time Bdoesn't seem to really care if J is around or not. I know it made J feel loved. So he came back and spent a few minutes holding and playing with him, which was beautiful to witness. There is something about seeing my husband with our children that is both incredibly beautiful and absolutely sexy.
Miss H said her obligatory good-byes, prompted J to give her, baby B, and myself besos, and then proceeded to have him kiss her kitchen, fake bird, baby doll, etc. Being the amazing papa he is, J obliged her. Then she watched him through the window as he drove away, standing on her plastic farm, which I was certain was going to fall over and put her through the window.
H does well without J. For a while. She can make it nearly his entire work day being okay. But by the evening she is typically breaking down, in need of her papa. I make it about as long to be honest, but of course the babes never see that. I am Momma. I am strong.
She made it to nap-time, then fussed for a few minutes for Papa. She's used to this routine though. Not that it makes it any easier. On any of us.
When J is gone I feel very lonely. Really, at the end of the day, he is the only person I have to talk to. Sure, I have friends. So many categories of them, in fact.
I have the friends I've had since my school years. They are great to reminisce with. To talk about basic things. But I can't really talk to them. We are at drastically different places in our lives. I mean, of course we are! We're only 24 years old. They're all in grad school, or just starting off on their own. They're not happily married with children all ready. And that's okay. Just makes it difficult to talk about much. Since, well, my children are my life. They're pretty much all I have to talk about.
I have my "mom" friends. My social circle definitely expanded significantly after having kids. I love my mom friends. Really and truly. There are days I probably couldn't function without them. But once again, I can't really talk to them. I mean, I'm just not close enough to them I guess, where I feel comfortable picking up the phone and saying, "I'm about to lose my shit. How's the weather your way?" And I feel like when I do vent to someone, I'm really just putting them out, because who wants to listen to someone vent about something they signed up for, you know?
I have my family, which of course, are friends. But I won't lie, I'm not terribly close to most of my family. Not from lack of trying, but it is what it is. It's nice to send them pictures of the kids and hear they're cute, but other than that, not so great for real conversation.
I don't have that friend that you pick up the phone and call when your toddler continually pushes every button, and the baby won't stop crying no matter what you do, and no one has napped all day and you're so on edge you could burst.
Other than J.
He is that friend for me. So when he is on travel, when he is virtually unavailable to me all day, every day, for a week or more at a time, it's really hard.
He is the person I vent to, or who I lament that I veered from eating Paleo and now the baby is vomiting again. He is the person who triumphs with me in our daughter learning new things and the baby taking steps. He is the person who I can discuss parenting beliefs and dietary needs and my goals for the future and any other random thing that might come into my head.
He is my best friend.
So although I can live without him. I can function. We get through all of our day-to-day hubub. I still miss him. I'd rather him be home. And so would the babes.
But we are lucky, I suppose. He could travel more. He could be home less.
At least when he is home he makes it count. When he is physically home, and the babes are awake, his attention and time is 110% directed toward them. Playing with and teaching them. Everything else comes second, as it should. He is not a sports fan or a video gamer. Nothing gets his attention over his children, and for that we are all truly grateful. They are first. As they should be.
So even when he is gone, they know they still matter. I know I still matter. And we just count down the days until he's home again. Which is never soon enough!
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