Parenting
My friend Liz is one of those women who must be too good to be true. She’s hugging my third baby here. And this woman! Whew! Four amazing kids. Adoring husband. Chickens. Sweet tattoos. Runs her own childbirth education center, Enlightened Mama in Saint Paul services the Twin Cities. IBCLC (that’s the highest level of lactation expert). Doula. And she always has time for me. Even if it’s just for me to run over one evening and talk birthy talk with a glass of wine. Actually I’ve done this a lot. This time, though, we kicked it off with her advice on my going insane with three kids and how can I get my brain back. She solved my problem, by the way. After she counseled me on that, she let me do a little series of interviews with her for expecting parents. She answers the most common questions I hear over and over again from friends who are waiting for their first to come along. Tips from Liz on preparing for the best outcome for nursing. Watch this short interview with her and look for our next one next week!
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My sweet daughter, now THREE!, went through about 8 months of not caring about me, or for me, or really even wanting anything to do with me. She loved having a new baby, and still adores her little brother, but once he came along and I was out of it for so long, I think her affections grew stronger for other members of the family, my parents, my sister, certainly AA. She’d protest coming to sit on my lap, read with me, have me put her down for naps or bedtime, have me put her in the carseat, have me do most things for her (at that point she was still in diapers for naps & bedtime so changes were a real party). Every morning when she discovered, to her shock and dismay, that once again Dada had abandoned her for work, she would wail. And look for him everywhere. It’s a big house. That was a lot of wandering wailing. It hurt, and I remembered how SuperBoy was the same after she was born. I realized this was a stage and now am much more appreciative and open to connecting with her on her terms. SuperBoy feels close with us listening to an audiobook while I’m cooking because he’s with me and we’re talking. She feels close when I leave my chores in the kitchen and come up to her room. I’ve stopped say “later” and now actually do it–go and play with her and leave the chores for later. They’ll…
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Having three kids under five, staying at home with them, no one being in school, means I have very little alone time with each child individually. When I had two kids, I would stagger their afternoon naps so I could sneak in that extra time with the youngest, just truly playing with her and reading to her and smiling at her. Like, looking her in the eyes and smiling. Because for me the long days alone with the kids, especially when they were younger, were hard. Hard to feel like I accomplished anything beyond the basics, and hard to even feel like I was getting quality time with them. Ironically, although I have three kids now, and SuperBoy is much more into exploring the world and not just eat-diaper-nap-read-repeat, my quality time with them has gone way up because I’m more aware of wanting and needing it. A few years back I gave you a sample day with two kids, and last year I described my day with three, and maybe I talked about my day recently too. For me, to avoid the days blurring together into one big tantrum scream fest where I’m diving into my iPhone for a little break, I’ve been mindful of one-on-one time with them. SuperBoy His love languages are verbal affirmation & physical touch. I’m also all verbal affirmation over here. We snuggle in the morning when he comes into our room, thank you, king-size-bed, and when he gets up from his afternoon rest/naptime. He processes his…
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I hear from a sweet girlfriend she is in labor. I’m at home. I sling the baby on my hips and go upstairs. The older kids clamor what kind of baby will she have? is she going to want a chocolate cake? while following me up the stairs that creak, down the hallway that’s dark, and into the Sitting Room, my work studio. I scan the room in a hurry and blink, in that second recalling the memory of where I safely stowed the matches out of their reach. In a few steps, I recover the matches and light one. The baby tries hard to burn his hands but after setting him down to toddle, I cup the match and my favorite candle made by another sweet friend. Lit, it lets off the sweetest smell and the three kids huddle to watch it flick flack. I’m holding the space for this girlfriend in labor. A lit candle, powerful but vulnerable, makes the perfect analogy for the laboring mama. Her body can do this. It was made to do this. Her breath in & out brings that baby closer to her arms through his or her biggest journey of their life. Don’t you wish we could remember how it felt to kick off the top of the uterus? To head down from our warm cocoon into the bright cold world? Or to feel the surgeon’s rubbery hands lifting us to our mama’s welcoming eyes? Probably best those memories are in our bones and…
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Confession: I’m a birth story junky. I just can’t help it. I love reading about the fear, the joy, the trauma, the drama. So many late nights of all three pregnancies have involved reading other moms’ journeys on the interwebs. {Tell me you’ve read through the linkup over at Grace’s!} I just celebrated my daughter & my birthday. We share a birthday! How awesome is that. I love writing mine as well, processing the sorrows and triumphs. {SuperBoy’s || SweetPea’s || BabyLove’s}. So when Jill contacted me to tell me about her project Yellow Light, Write, a Twin Cities based writing workshop that guides women to write their journeys of motherhood and birthing, I was all um LOVE THIS KINDA THANG!!! So we did a little Q&A to tell you about what she’s got going on, because it’s really really wonderful and a real asset to our birthing community! Find her on the web || Facebook || email {jill (at) yellowlightwrite.com} You began this writing workshop for parents to understand their journey into parenthood and tell their tale. Who comes to the workshop and what do you see happen to them while working through this journey? The workshop is for mothers of all ages. I’m often asked if it’s “too late” to get a story down on paper…because 2 or 10 or 20 years have passed. I can not be more emphatic about the fact that, if this is something that resonates with you in the slightest, you are welcomed with open arms. The workshop is not…
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told to you by someone who struggles massively with over-commitment. It’s always been a teeter-totter for me. Do, feel good about it, feel great about it, feel burnt out about it, crash & burn. Revitalize and start again. All like a phoenix. Oh, how poetic I art. In my own attempt to simplify, and not in that new trendy minimalism way were you bid your material possessions adieu softly whispered as you caress them on their way out the door (did you read Indiana’s hilarious post on Marie Kondo??), but to cut back to my balancing point, I’ve discerned three truisms about coping with overcommitment. 1) Do you have time to clip your nails or q-tip your ears? I have very basic (read: low) hygiene standards. Bathing regularly is easily met by a small baby who likes to play in the bathtub but anything above and beyond that: hair styling, moisturizing, makeup (what’s that?), taming eyebrows, caring for or painting nails, etc, don’t happen very often. When a new opportunity presents (like three did this past month–three things I really wanted to say yes to and had to say no instead!!!!!), I first ask myself, do I want to do this? If the answer is yes, then I ask, but am I clipping my nails and cleaning out my ears right now? The answer to that is almost always no. So that tells me to decline regretfully. 2) Accept there are two kinds of friends: low maintenance and high maintenance and no…
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