The blog post, This Stage of Life? It's Hard was showing up all over my friends' Facebook walls recently. Maybe that's not surprising given that many of my friends fit the demographic the author addresses - 30-something moms with two, three, even four kids, ages newborn to seven or eight. But what was surprising was realizing how many of my friends feel the same way I do. Because my friends are awesome and all superwomen in my eyes. And there they were publicly admitting that this stage of life is damn hard.
I need to remind myself that it's okay to admit that and I'm not less of a mom for it. I've proven I can handle a lot, but that doesn't mean that these little parenting and life challenges, when all added up, leave me feeling pretty depleted. So that's why on Mother's Day, while seemingly all the other moms were posting pictures of themselves with their children on Instagram and Facebook, I did what I often do on Mother's Day, and that's spend time without my children. Acknowledging that this stage in life is hard is the first step in working on not just surviving this stage, but enjoying it, and for me, that means I need to learn how to recharge. Without a plan for the day, I ended up on my bike and headed towards the river where I laid in the sun, read a book and actually accomplished something I'm not very good at - relaxing.
Even though I was pedaling uphill on my way home, the exercise, outdoors and time to myself had started to recharge me and this stage in life felt a little less hard.
Kiera, Matteo, Oliver and Soren
Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts
Friday, May 13, 2016
Thursday, February 11, 2016
Another Step Closer to Paid Parental Leave
My union has been working with the governor the past couple of months on the issue of paid parental leave, but I have not been nearly as involved as I would have liked because, of well, children. My theory is that parenting issues never gain traction in our country because the very people you need out there advocating for what they need - parents - are too busy trying to raise their children. So it was with delight and relief that, while busy out on leave with one of my children, I opened the newspaper to see that paid parental leave is gaining traction in Minnesota, at least for state employees.
Mark Dayton proposes paid parental leave for all state employees
Whoever out there is advocating on behalf of us tired parents and parents-to-be, thank you. Reading this article gave me hope for the first time that paid parental leave might become a reality in Minnesota.
Mark Dayton proposes paid parental leave for all state employees
Whoever out there is advocating on behalf of us tired parents and parents-to-be, thank you. Reading this article gave me hope for the first time that paid parental leave might become a reality in Minnesota.
Sunday, January 24, 2016
Secrets Versus Surprises
Have you ever thought about the difference in definition between a "surprise" and a "secret"? I never gave it any thought until we had a speaker from the
Jacob Wetterling Foundation speak at our ECFE class about how to keep
our children safe.
A surprise is something we keep secret for a short time, but it is something good and something we will eventually tell. It's inclusive and meant to make someone feel good. A secret is something you never intend to tell someone, whether because you're ashamed, don't have anyone you can trust or were told you couldn't tell. It can be used to isolate, manipulate or shame.
Think about these two scenarios.
This is the difference between the two words that the Jacob Wetterling Foundation wanted us parents to understand and make sure our children understood too. If kids learn that it's not right for someone to ask them to keep a secret and that they can trust their parents to share anything, they are less vulnerable to anyone who doesn't have their best interests in mind, whether that's a friend who wants them to do something they shouldn't do or an adult who wants to harm them.
Since that ECFE class, I have been intentional about the vocabulary I use with my children. I never ask them to keep a secret. I ask them to help me keep a surprise and make it clear that we will eventually tell the person.
A friend of Chris' had a teachable moment about secrets. Because the parents leave so early for work, they had hired a nanny to come over for a few hours in the morning to get their elementary-aged children up, fed and on the bus to school. One morning the nanny lost track of time and the kids missed their bus. The nanny had also let them play on the iPad, which is against the rules in their household in the morning and probably contributed to them not paying attention to the time. These two instances wouldn't have upset Chris' friend so much. We all lose track of time and maybe the kids were behaving so well that the nanny thought it would be okay to reward with them with a bit of pre-school day screen time. What upset her so much and ultimately led her to fire the nanny was that the nanny asked the kids to not tell their parents that they had missed the bus and that they had been allowed to play on the iPad. She had asked them to keep a secret from their parents. (It also didn't help the nanny's case that when the parents tried to talk to her about why they were upset, the nanny did not handle the conversation professionally.) Secrets are a no-no in their family.
Because the secret was not about harm done to the children, it may seem like a relatively minor secret. However, kids should never be taught to keep secrets from the people who love them most. After Chris' friend fired the nanny, she and her husband sat down with the kids and talked about what had happened and why they don't keep secrets in their family. In my opinion, the inconvenience of being without morning childcare is worth it to reinforce the importance of children feeling comfortable with always telling their parents the truth.
A surprise is something we keep secret for a short time, but it is something good and something we will eventually tell. It's inclusive and meant to make someone feel good. A secret is something you never intend to tell someone, whether because you're ashamed, don't have anyone you can trust or were told you couldn't tell. It can be used to isolate, manipulate or shame.
Think about these two scenarios.
The kids pick out a present for their dad's birthday and their mom tells them they have to keep it a surprise. They are so proud of what they picked out for him and excitedly wrap it.
Your child loves going over his classmate's house because there's everything there he doesn't have at home or isn't allowed to have - all the cool toys, junk food for snacks and as much TV as they want to watch. His friend's older brother bosses the younger kids around and acts in a way that makes your child uncomfortable. The brother told your child that if he tells on him, he won't be allowed to come over anymore.The first scenario is positive and the children feel happy, excited and proud of themselves. In the other scenario the child feels guilty and icky.
This is the difference between the two words that the Jacob Wetterling Foundation wanted us parents to understand and make sure our children understood too. If kids learn that it's not right for someone to ask them to keep a secret and that they can trust their parents to share anything, they are less vulnerable to anyone who doesn't have their best interests in mind, whether that's a friend who wants them to do something they shouldn't do or an adult who wants to harm them.
Since that ECFE class, I have been intentional about the vocabulary I use with my children. I never ask them to keep a secret. I ask them to help me keep a surprise and make it clear that we will eventually tell the person.
A friend of Chris' had a teachable moment about secrets. Because the parents leave so early for work, they had hired a nanny to come over for a few hours in the morning to get their elementary-aged children up, fed and on the bus to school. One morning the nanny lost track of time and the kids missed their bus. The nanny had also let them play on the iPad, which is against the rules in their household in the morning and probably contributed to them not paying attention to the time. These two instances wouldn't have upset Chris' friend so much. We all lose track of time and maybe the kids were behaving so well that the nanny thought it would be okay to reward with them with a bit of pre-school day screen time. What upset her so much and ultimately led her to fire the nanny was that the nanny asked the kids to not tell their parents that they had missed the bus and that they had been allowed to play on the iPad. She had asked them to keep a secret from their parents. (It also didn't help the nanny's case that when the parents tried to talk to her about why they were upset, the nanny did not handle the conversation professionally.) Secrets are a no-no in their family.
Because the secret was not about harm done to the children, it may seem like a relatively minor secret. However, kids should never be taught to keep secrets from the people who love them most. After Chris' friend fired the nanny, she and her husband sat down with the kids and talked about what had happened and why they don't keep secrets in their family. In my opinion, the inconvenience of being without morning childcare is worth it to reinforce the importance of children feeling comfortable with always telling their parents the truth.
Friday, July 17, 2015
Second Shift
There are days I leave work not relieved my work day is over. Because it technically isn't. Once I leave my office, I'm preparing to start my second shift at home. As any parent knows, work is never really over.
I love my family, but being a parent is hard work. Relentless hard work. I'm tired a lot of the time because there are never enough hours in the day to do everything I need to do, let alone what I want to do. My second shift at home is faster-paced than any day at the office. I feel the pressure to simultaneously greet my children and hear about their day, make dinner, clean up the day's mess so we can eat at a clean dining room table, set the table and comfort my children, who inevitably start squabbling while I'm trying to make dinner. And that's all before dinner!
The rare nights that dinner is peaceful, meaning the kids have no complaints about what's for dinner and happily eat it, is really just like being in the eye of a hurricane. It's a brief respite from the craziness where I maybe sit in my chair for ten minutes and actually eat. Often well before I've eaten my last bite of dinner, the kids are finished and I'm directing them to clear their plates and clean-up begins. There are plates to scrape, a dishwasher to load (thank goodness for this modern invention!), pots and pans to scrub, a filthy dining room table and chairs to wipe down, a floor to sweep and trash to take out.
The third hurdle of the evening is bedtime. Four children who need to change into their pajamas, go to the bathroom and brush their teeth. As we settle into my bed to read four bedtime stories, I'm assessing their likeliness of falling asleep quickly and how many trips back into their rooms I'll need to make to ask them to settle down or refill a water bottle or give another hug. That's because post-kid-bedtime and pre-my-bedtime is my sacred time to finish cleaning up and maybe have some time to myself to decompress.
This is what my second shift is like night after night.
The hardest part for me as a parent is to not stress out over the chaos of being pulled in too many directions. It's hard to ignore the guilt for what I don't have time to do or what I feel I should be doing when all I want to do is relax. I know this is just a phase when my kids are so little and need me to do so much for them and that one day, sooner than I can possibly imagine at this point in my life, the house will be quiet and there will be no more second shift.
I love my family, but being a parent is hard work. Relentless hard work. I'm tired a lot of the time because there are never enough hours in the day to do everything I need to do, let alone what I want to do. My second shift at home is faster-paced than any day at the office. I feel the pressure to simultaneously greet my children and hear about their day, make dinner, clean up the day's mess so we can eat at a clean dining room table, set the table and comfort my children, who inevitably start squabbling while I'm trying to make dinner. And that's all before dinner!
The rare nights that dinner is peaceful, meaning the kids have no complaints about what's for dinner and happily eat it, is really just like being in the eye of a hurricane. It's a brief respite from the craziness where I maybe sit in my chair for ten minutes and actually eat. Often well before I've eaten my last bite of dinner, the kids are finished and I'm directing them to clear their plates and clean-up begins. There are plates to scrape, a dishwasher to load (thank goodness for this modern invention!), pots and pans to scrub, a filthy dining room table and chairs to wipe down, a floor to sweep and trash to take out.
The third hurdle of the evening is bedtime. Four children who need to change into their pajamas, go to the bathroom and brush their teeth. As we settle into my bed to read four bedtime stories, I'm assessing their likeliness of falling asleep quickly and how many trips back into their rooms I'll need to make to ask them to settle down or refill a water bottle or give another hug. That's because post-kid-bedtime and pre-my-bedtime is my sacred time to finish cleaning up and maybe have some time to myself to decompress.
This is what my second shift is like night after night.
The hardest part for me as a parent is to not stress out over the chaos of being pulled in too many directions. It's hard to ignore the guilt for what I don't have time to do or what I feel I should be doing when all I want to do is relax. I know this is just a phase when my kids are so little and need me to do so much for them and that one day, sooner than I can possibly imagine at this point in my life, the house will be quiet and there will be no more second shift.
Monday, June 8, 2015
Saying Goodbye to ECFE
We attended what was likely our family's last night of Minnesota's statewide program, Early Childhood and Family Eduction (ECFE), an education program for families with children from birth to age five. We have participated since Oliver was four weeks old, at which point I could do nothing more than sit quietly while we talked about choosing a kindergarten and mentally filed away notes for a stage in my life that seemed so far away. And now I've arrived.
I've been doing this for nearly six years. Semester after semester, I've attended without hiatus. I started in a birth-to-five class at Monroe down the street from our house, then moved to a baby class at another site, Randolph Heights, but when that closed at the end of the semester, I chose yet another site, Rondo, the following fall. With no evening age-specific classes at Rondo for Oliver's age group in the spring, I decided to go back to Monroe and attend an evening birth-to-five class. I joined a birth-to-three daytime class in the fall, but when I got a new job, I transferred back into my old Monday night evening class. And that's where we stayed.
Every Monday night for almost four years, in rain or snow, sunshine or darkness, depending upon the season, we gulped down dinner and headed down the street to the school where the teachers greeted my children with enthusiastic hellos. I've carried my kids in the Ergo, pushed them in a stroller, let them ride their tricycles and even pulled them in a sled one snowy evening. For almost four years we've been with this class, with these teachers and with many of the same families. They've watched us add children to our family and then watched those children grow up. One teacher has known Oliver since he was four weeks old.
When we started ECFE, our street had only one other baby and few people at our site lived in the immediate neighborhood. As the neighborhood goes through transition, it's filling up with children, including two due late this summer. Half our class is now within walking distance of the school. I feel like it is time to make room for another family starting their journey. I'm sad to say goodbye, but I know ECFE has served its purpose. I leave a better parent and better connected to my community. I'm thankful for the learning environment the program provided for my children and for the friends I have made. My only regret is that Kiera and Matteo experienced only a couple of months of a program they were blossoming in.
I've been doing this for nearly six years. Semester after semester, I've attended without hiatus. I started in a birth-to-five class at Monroe down the street from our house, then moved to a baby class at another site, Randolph Heights, but when that closed at the end of the semester, I chose yet another site, Rondo, the following fall. With no evening age-specific classes at Rondo for Oliver's age group in the spring, I decided to go back to Monroe and attend an evening birth-to-five class. I joined a birth-to-three daytime class in the fall, but when I got a new job, I transferred back into my old Monday night evening class. And that's where we stayed.
Every Monday night for almost four years, in rain or snow, sunshine or darkness, depending upon the season, we gulped down dinner and headed down the street to the school where the teachers greeted my children with enthusiastic hellos. I've carried my kids in the Ergo, pushed them in a stroller, let them ride their tricycles and even pulled them in a sled one snowy evening. For almost four years we've been with this class, with these teachers and with many of the same families. They've watched us add children to our family and then watched those children grow up. One teacher has known Oliver since he was four weeks old.
When we started ECFE, our street had only one other baby and few people at our site lived in the immediate neighborhood. As the neighborhood goes through transition, it's filling up with children, including two due late this summer. Half our class is now within walking distance of the school. I feel like it is time to make room for another family starting their journey. I'm sad to say goodbye, but I know ECFE has served its purpose. I leave a better parent and better connected to my community. I'm thankful for the learning environment the program provided for my children and for the friends I have made. My only regret is that Kiera and Matteo experienced only a couple of months of a program they were blossoming in.
Friday, May 8, 2015
It's Not the Stork
My neighbor and I were standing outside chatting one evening after work and watching our kids play. Oliver and her daughter are pals and he's become a frequent visitor at her house and she at ours. My neighbor told me that although she didn't think I'd have a problem with it that she still felt like it was her neighborly duty to tell me that the last time Oliver was over, they were discussing where babies come from. She found their conversation pretty comical, as you would expect from kids at this age. Although Oliver skipped over nine months of gestation by informing his friend that the "sperm's tail falls off when it touches the egg and then a baby pops out," my neighbor was impressed he knew the sperm's tail falls off. That's a fact I actually didn't know until I ready a book written at a four- through seven-year-old age level.
I bought the book It's Not the Stork after it had been recommended in our Early Childhood and Family Education class, and it's been one of Oliver's more-requested books. Soren enjoys the book too even though he doesn't have the attention span for it yet. It's written in a cartoon format and I think the pictures help keep his attention.
I was admittedly a bit uncomfortable reading the book out loud at first, but it quickly became just like any other book on the kids' bookshelf. Developing this kind of comfort level was the whole point. If I want my kids to feel comfortable talking to me about anything, I can't be embarrassed or awkward.
Even though I think it's important to start the conversation about anatomy and reproduction when children are young, these are awkward topics to know where to start. This book has been great for me because it presents all the facts in an age-appropriate and engaging way and I don't have to worry about whether I'm explaining something well or whether I have my facts straight. It keeps these topics in the forefront without forcing them.
I was admittedly a bit uncomfortable reading the book out loud at first, but it quickly became just like any other book on the kids' bookshelf. Developing this kind of comfort level was the whole point. If I want my kids to feel comfortable talking to me about anything, I can't be embarrassed or awkward.
Even though I think it's important to start the conversation about anatomy and reproduction when children are young, these are awkward topics to know where to start. This book has been great for me because it presents all the facts in an age-appropriate and engaging way and I don't have to worry about whether I'm explaining something well or whether I have my facts straight. It keeps these topics in the forefront without forcing them.
Friday, May 1, 2015
Birth Story Writing Workshop
I almost didn't pick up the most recent issue of Minnesota Parent magazine because it was the "maternity issue." I'm not pregnant and never will be again and therefore really wasn't interested in reading about maternity fashion or the best products to include on your baby registry. But the magazine was free, so I grabbed a copy on my way home with the kids and flipped through it while they ate their snack. The maternity issue ended up having something for me after all - details about an upcoming birth story writing workshop.
As an adoptive parent who knows virtually no details about my children's births, I'm probably one of a kind in wanting to write about an event I didn't experience. However, I believe everyone has a story to tell and I was determined to tell that story, even if it wasn't going to be a traditional birth story.
Our instructor gave us a series of writing exercises to jog our memories and help us build the pieces of our stories. I skipped over any of the sections about pregnancy and focused my the questions I felt were applicable to the story I was able to tell, such as my expectations for thebirth adoption versus the reality or the sounds, sights, smells, feelings and touch I experienced during delivery meeting our children for the first time in a government office on the other side of the world. I surprised myself that the words came easily and kept scribbling in my notebook until we moved on to the next section. I will always mourn the details I don't know about my children's births and I feel guilty that I don't have the stories to share with Kiera and Matteo like I do with Oliver and Soren. Despite what I simply don't know, I discovered I have a lot to write about. There's a lot more to a birth story than a delivery. The workshop inspired me to write their stories as I know them, to write about the frustrations and determination during the long "paper chase," the surprise and happiness I felt when I learned we were having a girl, followed by the feeling of despair only to find out we were being blocked from becoming her parents, the uncontrolled smiles when I saw a photo of my son for the first time, the sadness I felt saying goodbye to Oliver and Soren the day we left for China, the sights, sounds, smells and tastes of their birth country, sleuthing for clues to the details of their births, and that long plane ride home.
Everyone has a story. Everyone has a birth story. This is theirs.
As an adoptive parent who knows virtually no details about my children's births, I'm probably one of a kind in wanting to write about an event I didn't experience. However, I believe everyone has a story to tell and I was determined to tell that story, even if it wasn't going to be a traditional birth story.
Our instructor gave us a series of writing exercises to jog our memories and help us build the pieces of our stories. I skipped over any of the sections about pregnancy and focused my the questions I felt were applicable to the story I was able to tell, such as my expectations for the
Everyone has a story. Everyone has a birth story. This is theirs.
Monday, January 12, 2015
A Celebration of Friendship
I can't believe I met these women more than five years ago. That was back when we had just 11 children among the 11 of us in this photo. Now we have 25, with three more on the way. My two, and well,
I'll leave you guessing whose smile has that pregnancy glow to it.
I met most of them at a new parent group at a local hospital and two of them shortly afterward in a stay-at-home moms group. I say over and over again I'm not sure where I'd be as a mom without these women. I met them when I needed them most and am thankful I'm still friends with them today because they are some of the coolest people I know.
I'm the first in our group to adopt (and probably the only who ever will) and they have embraced me with as much support and enthusiasm as they did when I announced my pregnancy with Soren. So with our travel to China getting closer and closer, they threw me send-off celebration. As much as they intended the party me and my growing family, I saw it as a celebration of our friendships. How incredibly fortunate we all are to have each other and watch our children grow up together.
I met most of them at a new parent group at a local hospital and two of them shortly afterward in a stay-at-home moms group. I say over and over again I'm not sure where I'd be as a mom without these women. I met them when I needed them most and am thankful I'm still friends with them today because they are some of the coolest people I know.
I'm the first in our group to adopt (and probably the only who ever will) and they have embraced me with as much support and enthusiasm as they did when I announced my pregnancy with Soren. So with our travel to China getting closer and closer, they threw me send-off celebration. As much as they intended the party me and my growing family, I saw it as a celebration of our friendships. How incredibly fortunate we all are to have each other and watch our children grow up together.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Needing mommy
One of the most special parts about being a parent is being the person whose presence completely comforts my child. We had ECFE last night and while both kids have done really well being away from me, emotions can become more fragile the later into the evening it gets, and towards the end of class, I got called back to Soren's classroom because he "needed his mommy." I walked into his classroom and saw him crying into his teacher's shoulder and as soon as I took him from her, he buried his face against my chest and heaved a sigh of relief. I kissed his fuzzy little head and nuzzled cheek-to-cheek, enjoying the unbelievable softness of his skin. Back in the comfort of my arms, Soren's mood abruptly changed and thirty seconds later he was flashing coy smiles at his teachers and being a bashful ham. The little boy really did just need his mommy.
Sometimes being your child's prime object of comfort is more of a challenge than a blessing when you want to be able to enjoy child-free time. Like most kids, Soren will inevitably go through a period of separation anxiety when even a brief separation could send him into hysterics. We experienced this with Oliver when around a year of age I literally couldn't leave his sight, even if I continued talking to him from the next room. After making it through his first phase of separation anxiety when I was the only one who could hold him, (not even Chris would do at one point) I didn't think his anxiety could get worse.
When you're not trying to leave your child with a sitter or even run to the basement to throw in a load of wash, the bond between baby and parent is otherwise one of the most wonderful aspects of parenthood. It's both an honor and a responsibility to be one of the very few people on this crowded earth who means so much to Oliver and Soren that whether I'm holding them, hugging them, playing with them or just standing on the periphery of their activity, I'm a source of comfort.
Sometimes being your child's prime object of comfort is more of a challenge than a blessing when you want to be able to enjoy child-free time. Like most kids, Soren will inevitably go through a period of separation anxiety when even a brief separation could send him into hysterics. We experienced this with Oliver when around a year of age I literally couldn't leave his sight, even if I continued talking to him from the next room. After making it through his first phase of separation anxiety when I was the only one who could hold him, (not even Chris would do at one point) I didn't think his anxiety could get worse.
When you're not trying to leave your child with a sitter or even run to the basement to throw in a load of wash, the bond between baby and parent is otherwise one of the most wonderful aspects of parenthood. It's both an honor and a responsibility to be one of the very few people on this crowded earth who means so much to Oliver and Soren that whether I'm holding them, hugging them, playing with them or just standing on the periphery of their activity, I'm a source of comfort.
Monday, January 30, 2012
My grandmother told me the other night, "You'll love your kids equally, but you won't always like them equally." Ah, how I totally get that. (Even if it makes me cringe to wonder at what points during my childhood I was in an "unlikable" stage.) Every stage of childhood has its challenges for parents, and honestly, sometimes I have patience for some challenges more than others. So be it. Every parent hears the phrase, "This too shall pass." And it shall.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
The sky hasn't fallen
I have two friends due with their second kids in the next few months and they both want to know how I'm doing. Yeah, like how I'm recovering, how the baby is sleeping and all that. But really what they want to know is how I'm handling it with two kids. Just as I had desperately sought reassurance during my pregnancy from friends who'd just had a second baby, my still-pregnant friends want to know if I'm keeping my sanity and logistically how it's done. Expecting the worst had probably caused me a lot of unnecessary anxiety as I prepared for Soren's arrival, but the upside is that the reality doesn't seem as bad.
Taking care of a newborn is pretty much the same the second time around as it was the first. I change a lot of diapers, do a lot of wash, get up multiple times a night and spend hours nursing. What has changed is me. With Oliver, I remember being overwhelmed by the relentlessness of these tasks and by the feeling that this was going to be my life forever. Often I still feel like the newborn stage will last forever, but having an older child gives me the perspective to know that it really does get easier. Taking care of a baby feels like second nature now, so while I'm still getting to know Soren, there's otherwise not much of a learning curve. I'm a lot more confident and stress about things less.
That's not to say that taking care of two doesn't take more work and bring on additional stress. Not a day goes by where both boys aren't crying at the same time, or at a minimum, both need something at the same time. And inevitably, their schedules will never completely sync. The morning that Oliver sleeps in late is of course the morning that Soren won't go back to sleep after an early-morning feeding. Gone are the days of being able to run out the door with a sippy cup and extra diaper stashed in my purse. Now I'm back to lugging a car seat out to the car with an overstuffed diaper bag on my back and a toddler trying to break free from the grasp of my other hand. I had thought that the experience of taking care of my friend's son last year wasn't relevant to taking care of a toddler and a newborn because this child and Oliver are the same age, (and thus on the same schedule and have the same needs) but to my surprise, the experience prepared me for the situations I just described. Sometimes one kid just has to wait, the kids will cry, often at the same time, you won't be able to please everyone at once, you'll have to continuously adapt schedules and routines based on changing needs, and preparing meals, cleaning up and getting out the door all just take longer. That's just the reality and the kids will survive.
The advantage of being a stay-at-home mom is that when things don't run smoothly, the consequences don't matter as much. The earliest we ever really need to be anywhere is 9:00 a.m. and if we're late, well, we're late. My fellow participants in the early childhood activities we participate in are more than understanding of a mom who's late because her toddler had a meltdown while she was preparing to leave the house. Choosing sleep over a shower after a rough night up with a newborn? It's not like I have a boss and co-workers I have to look presentable in front of. And if the toddler is uncooperative and the baby demands non-stop nursing and I just can't make it to the grocery store or find time to cook dinner, well, all the sandwiches we ate for dinner when I was sick during pregnancy and didn't have the energy or stomach to cook set a manageable standard post-pregnancy of what constitutes dinner.
Having Oliver changed my life and sometimes I was resentful. I grieved the loss of free time and the spontaneity of an unscheduled life. The relationship Chris and I had changed too as we assumed new roles (he, family provider, me, stay-at-home-mom) and learned to negotiate family and household responsibilities alongside limited time for friends and hobbies. Eventually it felt like we had brought some order into our post-child lives. We finally had our routine as a family and our time and energy devoted to school, work, raising a child and managing a household appeared like it was maxed out. So I had thought the arrival of a second child would be what would send our orderly lives spiraling out of control.
Although our adjustment hasn't been seamless, Soren was born into a family already adapted to a chaotic and busy life with kids. It has dawned on me that it was Oliver's arrival that made my life before his birth unrecognizable to the one I live today. When Oliver was born, I initially thought I could simply add Oliver to the routine of my pre-child lifestyle. Eventually, though, a life built around new friends with kids Oliver's age and the baby and toddler activities in my area was formed, my kid's rigid schedule became the norm and my expectations of what it's like to do or accomplish anything with a young child were adjusted. So when Soren arrived, I already had the support of the same group of friends who'd helped me through Oliver's first two years and a social life geared towards a mom and a toddler. Meanwhile, my housekeeping standards didn't have much farther to fall.
Having a second kid forced me to face the reality that I can't run the household and raise kids by myself, even if I'm a stay-at-home mom. I'm learning to rely on Chris a lot more, who in turn is keeping more manageable and consistent work hours. When Chris walks in the door at the end of the day, he's all about Oliver. And our new babysitter and my helpful in-laws are also helping me maintain a healthy balance in my life. If I had spent my first two years of parenthood failing to be the perfect mom and housewife I'd envisioned myself being, I surely wasn't going to be more successful with two kids. I'm finally learning to ask for help and let go.
While I discovered that life as a mom of two is more manageable than I could have imagined, I know it'll get more difficult before it gets easier. Soren will develop a nap schedule just as Oliver abandons his. He'll no longer be a portable little infant. He'll develop his own interests and may not want to tag along to Oliver's activities. But those changes will come gradually and I'm sure I'll figure it out as they grow. Meanwhile, I'm just thankful the sky hasn't fallen and am trying to enjoy the acclimation period of this new phase of motherhood.
Taking care of a newborn is pretty much the same the second time around as it was the first. I change a lot of diapers, do a lot of wash, get up multiple times a night and spend hours nursing. What has changed is me. With Oliver, I remember being overwhelmed by the relentlessness of these tasks and by the feeling that this was going to be my life forever. Often I still feel like the newborn stage will last forever, but having an older child gives me the perspective to know that it really does get easier. Taking care of a baby feels like second nature now, so while I'm still getting to know Soren, there's otherwise not much of a learning curve. I'm a lot more confident and stress about things less.
That's not to say that taking care of two doesn't take more work and bring on additional stress. Not a day goes by where both boys aren't crying at the same time, or at a minimum, both need something at the same time. And inevitably, their schedules will never completely sync. The morning that Oliver sleeps in late is of course the morning that Soren won't go back to sleep after an early-morning feeding. Gone are the days of being able to run out the door with a sippy cup and extra diaper stashed in my purse. Now I'm back to lugging a car seat out to the car with an overstuffed diaper bag on my back and a toddler trying to break free from the grasp of my other hand. I had thought that the experience of taking care of my friend's son last year wasn't relevant to taking care of a toddler and a newborn because this child and Oliver are the same age, (and thus on the same schedule and have the same needs) but to my surprise, the experience prepared me for the situations I just described. Sometimes one kid just has to wait, the kids will cry, often at the same time, you won't be able to please everyone at once, you'll have to continuously adapt schedules and routines based on changing needs, and preparing meals, cleaning up and getting out the door all just take longer. That's just the reality and the kids will survive.
The advantage of being a stay-at-home mom is that when things don't run smoothly, the consequences don't matter as much. The earliest we ever really need to be anywhere is 9:00 a.m. and if we're late, well, we're late. My fellow participants in the early childhood activities we participate in are more than understanding of a mom who's late because her toddler had a meltdown while she was preparing to leave the house. Choosing sleep over a shower after a rough night up with a newborn? It's not like I have a boss and co-workers I have to look presentable in front of. And if the toddler is uncooperative and the baby demands non-stop nursing and I just can't make it to the grocery store or find time to cook dinner, well, all the sandwiches we ate for dinner when I was sick during pregnancy and didn't have the energy or stomach to cook set a manageable standard post-pregnancy of what constitutes dinner.
Having Oliver changed my life and sometimes I was resentful. I grieved the loss of free time and the spontaneity of an unscheduled life. The relationship Chris and I had changed too as we assumed new roles (he, family provider, me, stay-at-home-mom) and learned to negotiate family and household responsibilities alongside limited time for friends and hobbies. Eventually it felt like we had brought some order into our post-child lives. We finally had our routine as a family and our time and energy devoted to school, work, raising a child and managing a household appeared like it was maxed out. So I had thought the arrival of a second child would be what would send our orderly lives spiraling out of control.
Although our adjustment hasn't been seamless, Soren was born into a family already adapted to a chaotic and busy life with kids. It has dawned on me that it was Oliver's arrival that made my life before his birth unrecognizable to the one I live today. When Oliver was born, I initially thought I could simply add Oliver to the routine of my pre-child lifestyle. Eventually, though, a life built around new friends with kids Oliver's age and the baby and toddler activities in my area was formed, my kid's rigid schedule became the norm and my expectations of what it's like to do or accomplish anything with a young child were adjusted. So when Soren arrived, I already had the support of the same group of friends who'd helped me through Oliver's first two years and a social life geared towards a mom and a toddler. Meanwhile, my housekeeping standards didn't have much farther to fall.
Having a second kid forced me to face the reality that I can't run the household and raise kids by myself, even if I'm a stay-at-home mom. I'm learning to rely on Chris a lot more, who in turn is keeping more manageable and consistent work hours. When Chris walks in the door at the end of the day, he's all about Oliver. And our new babysitter and my helpful in-laws are also helping me maintain a healthy balance in my life. If I had spent my first two years of parenthood failing to be the perfect mom and housewife I'd envisioned myself being, I surely wasn't going to be more successful with two kids. I'm finally learning to ask for help and let go.
While I discovered that life as a mom of two is more manageable than I could have imagined, I know it'll get more difficult before it gets easier. Soren will develop a nap schedule just as Oliver abandons his. He'll no longer be a portable little infant. He'll develop his own interests and may not want to tag along to Oliver's activities. But those changes will come gradually and I'm sure I'll figure it out as they grow. Meanwhile, I'm just thankful the sky hasn't fallen and am trying to enjoy the acclimation period of this new phase of motherhood.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
New Parent Connection two years later
As a first-time mom with my husband away for the day at work or school, I was home alone for long stretches with a newborn Oliver. I knew I needed to get out and meet other parents, but had no idea where to turn. I did what anyone else of my generation would do by searching the Internet and stumbled upon a weekly gathering for new parents at a local hospital, United Hospital. I started attending New Parent Connection when Oliver was four weeks old, a point in which I was still recovering from a c-section and feeling like a physical and emotional mess. Breastfeeding was more difficult than I could ever have imagined, I knew nothing about child development or babies and sleep deprivation was wearing me thin. By the end of my first New Parent Connection session, I knew the group was my lifeline during what was such a vulnerable period in my life.
Over the next few months, the weekly New Parent Connection gathering was the highlight of an otherwise mundane week of caring for a newborn. I was with parents in the same place in life and I had people to commiserate, laugh (and, yes, sometimes) cry with. The facilitator, Kathy, had a knack for listening and making you feel like an empowered parent, even as you admitted you had no idea what you were doing. Eventually Oliver aged out of New Parent Connection and I was really sad to stop attending, but I knew I was a much different mother and person than when my son was four weeks old, and felt I was ready to move on.
Most of the moms from my New Parent Connection cohort went back to work, lives became even busier, and parenthood, while still daunting, didn't feel so new anymore. But slowly many of us began to reconnect on Facebook, playdates, stroller walks and visits to local story times were planned, and invitations to the odd soup swap were issued. One woman organized a baby sign language class and others of us ended up in the same early childhood education class as our "NPC friends." Our paths kept crossing in what can feel like a very small parenting network.
After some time, real friendships formed. The issues we faced when we first met at United Hospital may have changed, but we discovered that the need for peer support never lessened. We started a babysitting coop and monthly meal exchange and got to know each other's partners, and some cases, extended family. I provided daycare for a little girl from the group, whose mom ended up becoming the daycare provider for another in the group, while I in turn, provided daycare for another NPC friend's son. As a testament to how quickly life marches on, some of us have even had a second child in this time.
So it was quite special to gather at a park on a late summer afternoon morning nearly two years after we met to have a group birthday party for our kids, who were born within a few months of each other. Whether quite early or a little belated, the happiest of birthday wishes go out to Alexa, Wyatt, Noelle, Archer, Elsa, Atticus, Stella, Gabe, Vivian, Baron and Oliver.
Over the next few months, the weekly New Parent Connection gathering was the highlight of an otherwise mundane week of caring for a newborn. I was with parents in the same place in life and I had people to commiserate, laugh (and, yes, sometimes) cry with. The facilitator, Kathy, had a knack for listening and making you feel like an empowered parent, even as you admitted you had no idea what you were doing. Eventually Oliver aged out of New Parent Connection and I was really sad to stop attending, but I knew I was a much different mother and person than when my son was four weeks old, and felt I was ready to move on.
Most of the moms from my New Parent Connection cohort went back to work, lives became even busier, and parenthood, while still daunting, didn't feel so new anymore. But slowly many of us began to reconnect on Facebook, playdates, stroller walks and visits to local story times were planned, and invitations to the odd soup swap were issued. One woman organized a baby sign language class and others of us ended up in the same early childhood education class as our "NPC friends." Our paths kept crossing in what can feel like a very small parenting network.
After some time, real friendships formed. The issues we faced when we first met at United Hospital may have changed, but we discovered that the need for peer support never lessened. We started a babysitting coop and monthly meal exchange and got to know each other's partners, and some cases, extended family. I provided daycare for a little girl from the group, whose mom ended up becoming the daycare provider for another in the group, while I in turn, provided daycare for another NPC friend's son. As a testament to how quickly life marches on, some of us have even had a second child in this time.
So it was quite special to gather at a park on a late summer afternoon morning nearly two years after we met to have a group birthday party for our kids, who were born within a few months of each other. Whether quite early or a little belated, the happiest of birthday wishes go out to Alexa, Wyatt, Noelle, Archer, Elsa, Atticus, Stella, Gabe, Vivian, Baron and Oliver.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Exploring the Unexpected Costs of Kids
I like to read the Motherlode blog on the New York Times website. The author writes about a parenting-related subject and asks for reader comments. Last week's subject was about the unexpected cost of children.
http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/03/02/unexpected-costs-of-kids/
You can wait to have kids until you're financially ready, reduce household expenses in preparation, open that 529 plan the day the kid is born and educate yourself on what kind of costs you will incur with kids, (most researched likely is the cost of childcare) and well, life is full of financial curve balls. Some of the "out-of-pocket" costs of children are truly unpredictable, (medical costs) others are the result of inexperience or unreastic expectations. (Did I really think I'd find all my kid's clothing needs at garage sales?)
The following is a list of some of the unexecpted costs Chris and I encountered.
Utility Costs
Chris did predict that if I'm home with the baby we'd be spending more to cool or heat the house during the day, run appliances and light the house. We've never actually calculated how much more electricity we use, but use more, spend more.
What we didn't think about was the increased costs of heating the house at night. This winter we resumed turning the thermostat down at night, but last winter for fear of letting our newborn die of hypothermia in his own crib, the thermostat stayed at the same temperature day and night.
Clothing
Like most expectant parents, we received many clothes as gifts and I diligently rounded out the wardrobe of our future baby by shopping at consignment and garage sales. Our baby was cheaply clothed until he outgrew the 6-9-month size and I discovered I had NOTHING in bigger sizes for cold weather. It was late winter and my bargaining shopping options weren't going to start up again until spring. So I bought new clothes and tried to make myself feel better about the purchases because they were on sale. And since then, I've found myself making large-batch purchases for my son about four times a year. Then there are the winter jackets, snow boots, mittens, rain boots, new shoes and other more expensive wardrobe purchases. Of course I knew we would need to spend money to clothe our child, but I never thought about how many clothes he would need, how often and at what cost. And while I'm clearly not above garage sale clothes, I do have standards and won't dress Oliver in just anything. I've discovered I have styles for him I like and will pay more for clothes I think he looks cute in.
Toys and Books
Okay, so toys and books fall into the non-essentials category, but realistically, your kids need things (aside from you) to entertain them. And although child experts remind parents that you don't need expensive toys, or even conventional toys, because boxes, wooden spoons and tupperware containers are plenty, let's admit that toys are fun. Most of Oliver's toys are second-hand or gifts, but books take a beating, so the options for second-hand books of good quality have been limited. Second-hand or not, I find it difficult to resist surprising Oliver with something I think he'll enjoy.
Activities
I was convinced that fun could be had for free and that kids, especially babies, don't need expensive activities. I do seek out the free activities - we go to story times, tot time at the local rec center and loads of playdates through my moms group - but that's really it when it comes to free, especially in the winter. So I gave up the has-to-be-free-or-we're-not-doing-it. Our early childhood education classes are heavily subsidized, but not free, and we've gotten bang for our buck with the children's museum membership, but there's still an upfront cost.
Another frugally-minded friend said that while she also believes that activities and fun don't need to be expensive, she realized that creating experiences and memories for your children sometimes do cost money. If your kid is interested in sports, you at least want him to play in a city rec league, even if you can't afford the travel team.
Food
How much can a little baby eat? A lot. Although we never bought jars of expensive organic baby food because we did baby-led weaning, our grocery bill surely went up when Oliver started solids at six months. I didn't want to give my baby junk, so more fruits, vegetables and high-quality bread were added to our grocery cart. Before Oliver became a grazer around a year of age, he could plow through two pieces of toast at a sitting and ate an average of three pieces of fruit a day. Good portions of his meals ended up mashed to pieces or on the floor as he learned to handle food, but now that he's in his picky phase, he turns his nose up at more food than he'll willingly dig into. Either way, a lot of food is wasted.
Medical Expenses
We were prepared to pay more when we had to upgrade to the family medical insurance plan after the baby was born, and we factored the higher insurance premiums into our new budget. Luckily, preventative care is free, so we don't pay anything, even a co-pay for any of Oliver's wellness check-ups or the accompanying vaccinations. However, we never thought about how much we'd pay for doctor's visits for all the minor illnesses even healthy babies inevitably catch. We had crunched the numbers before Oliver arrived and determined that the health savings account plan, with its low monthly premiums and employer contribution, but high deductible and out-of-pocket expenses, was still the most affordable. But it still stings to get an $88 bill for the follow-up visit to the $150 ear infection visit, which didn't include the $30 antibiotic prescribed after the $8 antibiotic didn't work. Oliver's case of croup in early February resulted in five bills: $425 for the emergency room care, $34 for the x-rays, $1,512 for the hospital stay, $150 for the pediatrician who discharged him from the hospital and $94 for the follow-up a few days later with his regular pediatrician.
Unplanned-for or Unnecessary Baby Gear
You did all the research before the baby arrived and think you have exactly what you need. You're proud of yourself because your planning meant that each item was well-researched and purchased at the best price. Then your kid hates the swing everyone else said lulled their babies to sleep or being strapped into the $120 Ergo people like me rave about. Or you have to buy a second pack 'n' play because your 20th-in-percentile-height kid outgrew seemingly overnight the one you bought before his birth, when you didn't know that pack 'n' plays don't come in a standard size, so you inadvertently bought the smaller one. Or you find yourself at Target last-minute buying a $35 name-brand ear thermometer, (of course the store-brand one is out of stock) because you can't stand the thought of another night of middle-of-the-night temperature checks with the rectal thermometer that at $8 had served you well until now. You can't predict how many bottles, sippy cups and bibs you'll buy until you find the brands that work for your kid. Or what gear it makes sense to pay for higher quality and where you can cheap out.
http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/03/02/unexpected-costs-of-kids/
You can wait to have kids until you're financially ready, reduce household expenses in preparation, open that 529 plan the day the kid is born and educate yourself on what kind of costs you will incur with kids, (most researched likely is the cost of childcare) and well, life is full of financial curve balls. Some of the "out-of-pocket" costs of children are truly unpredictable, (medical costs) others are the result of inexperience or unreastic expectations. (Did I really think I'd find all my kid's clothing needs at garage sales?)
The following is a list of some of the unexecpted costs Chris and I encountered.
Utility Costs
Chris did predict that if I'm home with the baby we'd be spending more to cool or heat the house during the day, run appliances and light the house. We've never actually calculated how much more electricity we use, but use more, spend more.
What we didn't think about was the increased costs of heating the house at night. This winter we resumed turning the thermostat down at night, but last winter for fear of letting our newborn die of hypothermia in his own crib, the thermostat stayed at the same temperature day and night.
Clothing
Like most expectant parents, we received many clothes as gifts and I diligently rounded out the wardrobe of our future baby by shopping at consignment and garage sales. Our baby was cheaply clothed until he outgrew the 6-9-month size and I discovered I had NOTHING in bigger sizes for cold weather. It was late winter and my bargaining shopping options weren't going to start up again until spring. So I bought new clothes and tried to make myself feel better about the purchases because they were on sale. And since then, I've found myself making large-batch purchases for my son about four times a year. Then there are the winter jackets, snow boots, mittens, rain boots, new shoes and other more expensive wardrobe purchases. Of course I knew we would need to spend money to clothe our child, but I never thought about how many clothes he would need, how often and at what cost. And while I'm clearly not above garage sale clothes, I do have standards and won't dress Oliver in just anything. I've discovered I have styles for him I like and will pay more for clothes I think he looks cute in.
Toys and Books
Okay, so toys and books fall into the non-essentials category, but realistically, your kids need things (aside from you) to entertain them. And although child experts remind parents that you don't need expensive toys, or even conventional toys, because boxes, wooden spoons and tupperware containers are plenty, let's admit that toys are fun. Most of Oliver's toys are second-hand or gifts, but books take a beating, so the options for second-hand books of good quality have been limited. Second-hand or not, I find it difficult to resist surprising Oliver with something I think he'll enjoy.
Activities
I was convinced that fun could be had for free and that kids, especially babies, don't need expensive activities. I do seek out the free activities - we go to story times, tot time at the local rec center and loads of playdates through my moms group - but that's really it when it comes to free, especially in the winter. So I gave up the has-to-be-free-or-we're-not-doing-it. Our early childhood education classes are heavily subsidized, but not free, and we've gotten bang for our buck with the children's museum membership, but there's still an upfront cost.
Another frugally-minded friend said that while she also believes that activities and fun don't need to be expensive, she realized that creating experiences and memories for your children sometimes do cost money. If your kid is interested in sports, you at least want him to play in a city rec league, even if you can't afford the travel team.
Food
How much can a little baby eat? A lot. Although we never bought jars of expensive organic baby food because we did baby-led weaning, our grocery bill surely went up when Oliver started solids at six months. I didn't want to give my baby junk, so more fruits, vegetables and high-quality bread were added to our grocery cart. Before Oliver became a grazer around a year of age, he could plow through two pieces of toast at a sitting and ate an average of three pieces of fruit a day. Good portions of his meals ended up mashed to pieces or on the floor as he learned to handle food, but now that he's in his picky phase, he turns his nose up at more food than he'll willingly dig into. Either way, a lot of food is wasted.
Medical Expenses
We were prepared to pay more when we had to upgrade to the family medical insurance plan after the baby was born, and we factored the higher insurance premiums into our new budget. Luckily, preventative care is free, so we don't pay anything, even a co-pay for any of Oliver's wellness check-ups or the accompanying vaccinations. However, we never thought about how much we'd pay for doctor's visits for all the minor illnesses even healthy babies inevitably catch. We had crunched the numbers before Oliver arrived and determined that the health savings account plan, with its low monthly premiums and employer contribution, but high deductible and out-of-pocket expenses, was still the most affordable. But it still stings to get an $88 bill for the follow-up visit to the $150 ear infection visit, which didn't include the $30 antibiotic prescribed after the $8 antibiotic didn't work. Oliver's case of croup in early February resulted in five bills: $425 for the emergency room care, $34 for the x-rays, $1,512 for the hospital stay, $150 for the pediatrician who discharged him from the hospital and $94 for the follow-up a few days later with his regular pediatrician.
Unplanned-for or Unnecessary Baby Gear
You did all the research before the baby arrived and think you have exactly what you need. You're proud of yourself because your planning meant that each item was well-researched and purchased at the best price. Then your kid hates the swing everyone else said lulled their babies to sleep or being strapped into the $120 Ergo people like me rave about. Or you have to buy a second pack 'n' play because your 20th-in-percentile-height kid outgrew seemingly overnight the one you bought before his birth, when you didn't know that pack 'n' plays don't come in a standard size, so you inadvertently bought the smaller one. Or you find yourself at Target last-minute buying a $35 name-brand ear thermometer, (of course the store-brand one is out of stock) because you can't stand the thought of another night of middle-of-the-night temperature checks with the rectal thermometer that at $8 had served you well until now. You can't predict how many bottles, sippy cups and bibs you'll buy until you find the brands that work for your kid. Or what gear it makes sense to pay for higher quality and where you can cheap out.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Parenting Frustration
The past couple of days have been especially challenging. Oliver has been crying a lot. I don't have to say anymore in order for another parent to understand how I might be slowly be driven to insanity by the incessant whining and throw-myself-on-the-ground-and-cry-crocodile-tears type of behavior out of my otherwise adorable little boy. Despite Oliver's history with ear infections, I'm going to assume the cause of his general consternation is not that, but the two teeth that have been taking their good old time breaking through his top gum line.
Chris and I experienced an especially bad day on Sunday, a day we thought we'd savor because it was the only day out of the week Chris would actually see Oliver since his travel and school schedule had him away from home the other six days. Instead, we instituted three "chill out" times in Oliver's crib before he even went down for his official nap right after lunch. With Chris back in Dallas on Monday morning, I've been on my own again. I thought distraction would help Oliver's crabbiness, so yesterday it was the Children's Museum and today we went to story time at a local bookshop. While those outings were not complete failures, I'm hoping tomorrow's tot time at the gym of a nearby rec center elicits a few more smiles.
The days-long stretches of unabated neediness are challenging, but thankfully I'm not alone. Last week when I showed up for the January meal exchange, made up of women from my hospital group whose kids' birthdays are all within months of each other, the kids having "bad" weeks were in the majority. One mom and her husband were in such need of a break that they argued about who got to go deliver the food to the meal exchange and who had to stay home with the baby. (She cooked, so she got the free hour away.)
Eventually nighttime comes and if Oliver seems tired enough, I can put him to bed early. I have a few hours to decompress before my own bedtime. And as I drift off to sleep, I remind myself, tomorrow is another day, and wish for the best.
Chris and I experienced an especially bad day on Sunday, a day we thought we'd savor because it was the only day out of the week Chris would actually see Oliver since his travel and school schedule had him away from home the other six days. Instead, we instituted three "chill out" times in Oliver's crib before he even went down for his official nap right after lunch. With Chris back in Dallas on Monday morning, I've been on my own again. I thought distraction would help Oliver's crabbiness, so yesterday it was the Children's Museum and today we went to story time at a local bookshop. While those outings were not complete failures, I'm hoping tomorrow's tot time at the gym of a nearby rec center elicits a few more smiles.
The days-long stretches of unabated neediness are challenging, but thankfully I'm not alone. Last week when I showed up for the January meal exchange, made up of women from my hospital group whose kids' birthdays are all within months of each other, the kids having "bad" weeks were in the majority. One mom and her husband were in such need of a break that they argued about who got to go deliver the food to the meal exchange and who had to stay home with the baby. (She cooked, so she got the free hour away.)
Eventually nighttime comes and if Oliver seems tired enough, I can put him to bed early. I have a few hours to decompress before my own bedtime. And as I drift off to sleep, I remind myself, tomorrow is another day, and wish for the best.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Toddler Playdate
The last of the toddlers had just left Oliver's playdate when his Uncle Andy arrived early yesterday evening to babysit. He found a house in disarray. Furniture had been shoved aside, every toy Oliver possesses and every piece of those toys was strewn across the carpet, snack crumbs were everywhere and Oliver had just dumped the remainder of the Cheerios box on the floor by the door. The cereal crunched underfoot as I stumbled towards the door to let Andy in. Oliver had entertained six baby friends and it showed. If Andy looked shocked at the sight of my house, I was equally as shocked. Naively, I had never imagined parenthood would be this messy.
The word "playdate" conjures the notion that kids play on these dates, but for toddlers, an afternoon playdate more resembles feeding time at the zoo. Since Oliver had woken up from a nap shortly before the playdate started, he needed a snack, so out came the Cheerios. Another mom had brought homemade graham crackers. The snacks were barely out of their perspective packaging when the kids started clamoring for them. They swarmed whichever parent held food and plucked from the floor any fallen pieces of grub. I felt like I was feeding pigeons. They shoved fistfuls in their mouths and still reached for more even with their mouths stuffed. When the box of Cheerios looked dangerously low and a tantrum nearly erupted over a container of puffs, I found another unopened container stashed in the back of my cupboard and the noshing continued. I spent much of the afternoon with my hand outstretched for kids to graze from. I joked that I should have saved myself the trouble and bought one of those pet food dispensers and tought the kids how to serve themselves.
Despite the fact that the kids seemed to spend much of the playdate stuffing their mouths, they did do some playing in between. In true toddler style, they dumped the toy bucket, climbed on the couch, scooted my dining room chairs across the hardwood floors, crawled and stumbled over each other, moved in packs and occasionally looked like they were actually playing with each other. My living room took a beating, but they had fun and us moms appreciated the company of other adults.
By the time the playdate ended and I got Oliver's dinner ready, I was already running late, so I left the house as is. I was relieved and grateful when I came home to see that Andy had hunted down the stray pieces to Oliver's toys, put everything back in its place, stacked the board books on the coffee table and washed Oliver's booster seat and sippy cups. A mom's wish come true!
The word "playdate" conjures the notion that kids play on these dates, but for toddlers, an afternoon playdate more resembles feeding time at the zoo. Since Oliver had woken up from a nap shortly before the playdate started, he needed a snack, so out came the Cheerios. Another mom had brought homemade graham crackers. The snacks were barely out of their perspective packaging when the kids started clamoring for them. They swarmed whichever parent held food and plucked from the floor any fallen pieces of grub. I felt like I was feeding pigeons. They shoved fistfuls in their mouths and still reached for more even with their mouths stuffed. When the box of Cheerios looked dangerously low and a tantrum nearly erupted over a container of puffs, I found another unopened container stashed in the back of my cupboard and the noshing continued. I spent much of the afternoon with my hand outstretched for kids to graze from. I joked that I should have saved myself the trouble and bought one of those pet food dispensers and tought the kids how to serve themselves.
Despite the fact that the kids seemed to spend much of the playdate stuffing their mouths, they did do some playing in between. In true toddler style, they dumped the toy bucket, climbed on the couch, scooted my dining room chairs across the hardwood floors, crawled and stumbled over each other, moved in packs and occasionally looked like they were actually playing with each other. My living room took a beating, but they had fun and us moms appreciated the company of other adults.
By the time the playdate ended and I got Oliver's dinner ready, I was already running late, so I left the house as is. I was relieved and grateful when I came home to see that Andy had hunted down the stray pieces to Oliver's toys, put everything back in its place, stacked the board books on the coffee table and washed Oliver's booster seat and sippy cups. A mom's wish come true!
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
No matter how active or restful of a day Oliver and I have had, as the late afternoon approaches, he starts to get a little stir crazy. Or he's just tired of hanging out with mom. And I'm just, well, tired. Period. So make that two who are cranky. Distracting him is often useless at this point, and with his later wake-up time from his nap combined with an earlier dinner to accommodate that narrow window of opportunity when Oliver is in the mood to eat, but not yet too tired, there's not really much time to squeeze in a walk, the ultimate time-kill.
Then in walks Dad. The crying stops and Oliver smiles and laughs and pumps his fists and whole body up and down. He's so excited to see Daddy that I swear just the sight of him is going to motivate him to start walking just so he can get to him faster. Chris was as much of a victim of Oliver's early-onset separation anxiety as anyone else, but he now has the power to make Oliver the happiest little baby in the world.
He also induced what might have been Oliver's first tantrum by...leaving the room. Chris merely stepped out of his sight and Oliver's legs went stiff, he hung his head, pounded his fists and screamed. How could Daddy so cruelly stop playing with him? It had been so much fun. The "tantrum" was short and easily curable (apparently being picked up by Mommy can still make him happy), and thus, still cute.
Then in walks Dad. The crying stops and Oliver smiles and laughs and pumps his fists and whole body up and down. He's so excited to see Daddy that I swear just the sight of him is going to motivate him to start walking just so he can get to him faster. Chris was as much of a victim of Oliver's early-onset separation anxiety as anyone else, but he now has the power to make Oliver the happiest little baby in the world.
He also induced what might have been Oliver's first tantrum by...leaving the room. Chris merely stepped out of his sight and Oliver's legs went stiff, he hung his head, pounded his fists and screamed. How could Daddy so cruelly stop playing with him? It had been so much fun. The "tantrum" was short and easily curable (apparently being picked up by Mommy can still make him happy), and thus, still cute.
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