Mothers

My own mother sent me this forward:

Real Mothers don't eat quiche;
They don't have time to make it.

Real Mothers know that their kitchen utensils
Are probably in the sandbox.

Real Mothers often have sticky floors,
Filthy ovens and happy kids.

Real Mothers know that dried play dough
Doesn't come out of carpets.

Real Mothers don't want to know what
The vacuum just sucked up...

Real Mothers sometimes ask 'Why me?'
And get their answer when a little
Voice says, 'Because I love you best.'

(I can provide photo evidence of all of the above!)

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

Another Failure Success Story

I attempted to take Gideon to his swim class on Sunday. It was a big fail. I should have known better, really. He has never liked swimming, and the pool usually freaks him out (he likes lakes better, but even so, he doesn't like going in the water he just likes playing on the beach). I think all the noise bothers him. Even in the change room he was screaming like I was ripping off his toe nails or something. Simply because he didn't like his socks being off. I remember a time when he refused to wear socks, when he was little. Then last winter something flipped a switch in his head and he realized socks = warm, and ever since then he has been very pro-socks. Now to the point where he will not go sockless, even in bed he MUST have socks on (and the world ends if one of his socks gets twisted!). I also realized when we were in the change room that Gideon was not going to be able to take his Blankie in the pool (duh), and that was probably going to be an issue too.

I was really patient and super gentle and tried to coax him into letting me put his swim suit on him. No dice. So then I just started doing it, I had sacrificed my sleep and got up early and got him ready and out on time (despite daylight savings!), so I wanted to at least try. But it was just bad. I took him out and let him see the pool (with his Blankie), I thought maybe he would change his mind, but no, he didn't want to be near there at all. He even calmed down for a while and looked out over the pool, and I pointed out the kids having fun, and the toys, and how he could splash and play. He paused for a moment and thought about it, then calmly said "No, I want to go back to the van." I knew it would be a bad idea to force him, so we just went back and got changed and left.

He was very happy to get his socks back on, and then he was good to go! I took him to the observation area by the pool, and we watched the kids swim and play, and even watched his own class for a while, but he still DID NOT want to go in there. So I guess that's that. I really really should have known, I feel kind of stupid now. That's a total waste of $44. I think I just signed him up because I felt bad that Judith has been to so many classes, and even Ruthie has been to swimming classes with me, but he never has. Obviously there is a reason I never took him!

I have taken him swimming at the pool a couple times with Judith (before and while I was pregnant with Ruthie), and he didn't scream those times, but he did cling to me. I guess now that he's older he can fight me a bit more, and before I could nurse him in the pool, but of course now he's more attached to Blankie, who can't come too. Maybe he would be ok if Judith was there, but obviously she can't come to his class.

The only thing I am really upset about is the money. I know it was an honest mistake, and I'm trying to learn to embrace failure as an opportunity to learn, but I don't like when it costs us financially. I will call and cancel if I can, but I doubt I will get any money back. I really do want to do something special with Gideon, I feel like he gets shafted a lot. I just wish I would have been smart enough to sign him up for a music class or something instead. Something sock-friendly.

Anyway, after our big ordeal, we left the pool. I was super calm the whole time, I'm surprised that I didn't get angry or frustrated at all despite my lack of sleep the night before. I think it's just that I understand Gideon, I just finished reading The Highly Sensitive Child, and it not only helped me with Gideon, but also showed me so much about myself, as I am definitely highly sensitive too. It really validated me, and also reaffirmed what I have been doing with Gideon all along instinctively. I don't feel guilty about "coddling" him anymore, I am just being sensitive to his sensitivity. Hopefully I can teach him to manage his intense emotions and navigate through all of the overwhelming things in life instead of just shutting down all the time like I do.

I knew it was the best decision, even though I was upset with myself for wasting money. I didn't really want to leave, though, since it took so much work to get there. Then I remembered that there are always a lot of school buses parked out back, so we went and checked those out. Gideon was really excited. We have been watching episodes of The Magic School Bus from the library, and Gideon has started to notice and love school buses when we are out. He was thrilled to run up to a big bus, the wheel was bigger than him!

After that we went to a park and he played for a little while. He really wanted to go on the big slide, but had to go across these "treacherous" steps to get there. He wanted to give up right away (like me when I have to try something new), but I held his hand, and he did it! Then he went down the slide and loved it, and climbed back up with confidence, but then when he got to the top of the slide the second time I think he realized how high it was, and he started to freak out. I couldn't reach him, he was too high, so I put my hand up and coaxed him to sit and come down the slide. He had to push off before he would reach my hand, so it took some courage, but he did it! He caught my hand as he was sliding (it was a super slow slide, and he had done it before just fine, but his feelings of fear were valid and I wasn't going to belittle him), and then he was so proud of himself! That was definitely a better lesson for him than if I would have forced him into the pool. If I would have forced him in the water, it probably would have done a lot more damage than good. Not to mention how difficult his screaming would have been for me and annoying for everyone else. I honestly don't really care what the other parents thought of me, even in the change room when he was apparently dying. But still, I wasn't going to push it. I'm really proud of myself for staying calm, trying my best, and then making a wise decision.

Motherhood - The New Oppression (A Response)

I read this article today, and really feel the need to respond and address it.

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/opinions/motherhood-the-new-oppression/article1618807/

Oh man, where do I begin? I agree with some things, like that mothers today ARE a little too over-protective, competitive, and constantly hounded from all angles about everything, constantly being judged. But I think the solution to all that is simply GET OVER IT. Sheesh. Who cares what everyone else thinks? Who are we trying to impress?

It seems like this writer isn't a mother herself (I just looked up some stuff about her, and didn't find any info about her having kids), and although I respect her observations, I'm not sure if I can take her all that seriously, because she hasn't been there herself.

Also, I totally disagree with this:

"Once upon a time, the conveniences of modern life (processed foods, Lysol spray, disposable diapers, clothes dryers, polyester sheets) liberated women like my mother from their chains. But now, their granddaughters are clamouring to clap the shackles on again. Someone’s got to mash the organic applesauce, hang the diapers out to dry, and breastfeed the kid. No matter how enlightened the parental units, that someone will generally be Mom.

"It seems to me that if you had deliberately devised a plot to oppress women, it couldn’t get more diabolical than this. Highly educated, progressive and enlightened mothers don’t need men to oppress them. They’re perfectly capable of oppressing themselves!"

So, what if it's actually ME that doesn't want the so-called conveniences of modern life? What if I choose to do these things for MYSELF and not because I feel like I'm "supposed to" for my kids? These things are NOT shackles to me! I don't see compromising my own health, my children's health, and the health of everything that lives in our environment, for the sake of convenience, as a good thing! I'm not a saint, I'm protecting my own butt here! I love my family, so naturally I want to do what's best for them too. What is wrong with this? My kids are not forcing me to do anything I don't want to do. And guess what, I actually enjoy hanging my diapers out and having a child attached to my boob, how unfathomable! I'm not going to let anyone else dictate what I like and don't like. THAT is oppression! I can't believe that the author starts out by saying that we shouldn't be forced to follow societal expectations and just relax already (which I agree with, I totally don't think I need to adhere to someone else's “demanding standards” of the “moral requirements of modern motherhood”), and then turn around and make this kind of statement! This kind of ludicrous assumption.

It's funny, because to me feminism and women's liberation means that we now have CHOICES. Not that we have gone from being forced into one thing (being a housewife), to being forced into another (having a career, which is, apparently, the only option for “enlightened women”). That is just as oppressive! I have made the CHOICE to stay home and be a mom to my children. That doesn't make me any better or worse than women who work and have children, or who don't have children. This is just what I have chosen to do! And guess what? I'm happy with my choice! This is what works for me and makes me HAPPY and SATISFIED. Get over it already people. I don't think motherhood is for all women, and that's great. If you don't want kids, don't have them, what's the big deal here? You aren't less of a woman because you don't have kids! If society makes you feel that way, screw them, who cares! Just like I don't care when people think it's awful that I'm a young stay-at-home mom with "so many" kids. Like it matters what they think. I love my life, and I hope they love theirs. Now lets just peacefully co-exist already.

Motherhood has done nothing but empower me. Sure, it's hard. Harder than anything else I will ever do. But that makes it all the more worthwhile, for me. I like to be challenged, because it makes me grow. Not because it makes me superior to others, it's just the best for me. I chose to give birth naturally, breastfeed, cloth diaper, avoid chemicals, eat organic and local etc, because I WANT to. No one is oppressing me or forcing me into this. Motherhood has helped me to grow up, make my own decisions, and STOP letting people push me around and tell me what to do. And I'm not going to go and force my ideals on other people either.

I think that's what bothers me the most about this article, and all the other ones like it. Why do we feel that we have the right to impose our ideas and preferences on other people? I think that mothers (and all women in general) are intelligent enough to make their own educated decisions, and I will respect those decisions. Society seems to think, and seems to want all of us to think, that people are stupid and therefore need to be told what to do and controlled. And that those who are educated and “enlightened” ought to be the ones in charge, for the greater good of course. I disagree. I do think that people are easily manipulated, and can be capable of atrocious things, but are also capable of being independent and responsible and kind if given the freedom to be so. But that's a WHOLE other topic.

Epidurals are not for losers, they are a valid pain relief option, with pros and cons, that every woman has the option to use, or refuse. Same with everything. And I wouldn't have these fabulous thighs if it weren't for all the ice cream I ate while I was pregnant! Why does there have to be so much guilt and emotional baggage with everything? Yes, these can be big and important things, with implications, but what someone else chooses is none of my business. I'm not going to judge a mom I see feeding her newborn formula on the street, or an acquaintance I hear talking about giving their baby every vaccine available, I don't know their story or their reasons.

All I can do is put the info out there that I find relevant and informative (I do A LOT of that, and I don't mind putting it right in people's faces, but it is not my responsibility to make them act), and allow parents to make their own decisions. If they ask my opinion, of course I will give it, but the decision is theirs, and they will deal with the consequences of that decision either way. It's different if they are doing something that directly affects me, or are outright abusing their children, then I might do something about it, but that generally isn't the case with parenting.

It scares me when people start trying to force other people into things, even if it's just through guilt and manipulation, coercion, or even marketing or pop culture. No one is benefitting from this (except the people gaining power and money when you comply). Of course everyone wants the best for their children, and they will get the info they are interested in. What is unfortunate, though, is that medical establishments often do not provide expectant and new mothers with accurate information, but we are slowly learning to do our own research and weigh the options for ourselves. Professionals are great resources, and need to be respected, but they are not gods. I think when we start forcibly imposing things on others, even with good intentions, we start treading on dangerous ground.

Obviously a lot of things have changed, simply because we know better. We know that smoking is bad for our health now, so we can change our actions accordingly. Same with breastfeeding, there is so much research documenting the benefits now that they didn't have before. That doesn't mean our grandparents (or parents) were awful people. And it doesn't mean they did a bad job. It's just different now, and that's ok. We can't change the past, even uninformed decisions we have made ourselves, and carrying that burden of guilt won't fix anything. All we can do is make better decisions next time if possible.

Yeah, there is a lot of stuff you can panic about as a parent, but you don't have to. You can choose to make informed decisions, and then reject all of the fear that society throws at you. The government, media, corporations and society all want us to live in fear and wait to be rescued, because it serves their purposes. But we don't have to live like that. We can stand up and take responsibility, and authority, over ourselves and our families. We are grown-ups and are fully capable of being in control of ourselves (and I also believe the only control people are entitled to is self-control). We are also capable of dealing with our own consequences, even if they suck.

At the same time, no one can control everything. Bad things happen sometimes, it's true. It may not fit in our utopian worldview, but it's there and we have to deal with it. Some things are preventable, and I'm sure everyone would agree that we should try and prevent tragedies whenever possible. But we also need to be able to accept reality when it happens.

Why do people care about silly things so much, and feel the need to get involved with everyone else's business? Their own insecurity, I think. If you made a decision about parenting, that's your decision! Don't be afraid to talk about it, and don't let people push you around about it. It's your decision and that's that, you don't have to feel guilty when you have made an informed decision. Whatever your reasons are, I'm sure they're valid. If you find new information that makes you change your mind, then CHANGE! Do what you need to do, that is nothing but applaudable. Move on.

We all have room for improvement. I AM NOT PERFECT. YOU ARE NOT PERFECT. And we never will be. Is that not liberating? Oh, you're scared that ceasing to strive for perfection will make you quit caring altogether? I disagree. I believe that in striving for perfection, which is unattainable, we are always met with perceived failure, and THAT is what causes people to stop caring. If we can throw out this idea of needing to be perfect, of “all or nothing”, then maybe we can actually just live. And maybe, we will even enjoy it. Then maybe we can put our differences aside, or even have healthy discussions, but still appreciate each other. Just because everything isn't perfect, doesn't mean it can't be great. We seem to be programmed to aspire for a utopia that will never exist. We have to be perfect or die. But that's a lie. All we can do is try our best with what we have. We will fail! Children are pretty resilient, as long as you don't intentionally hurt them, they will probably be ok. Guilt helps no one, except to prompt you to change. So change according to your conscience and the info you find, then let the guilt go and move on, it's ok.

Guilt and this feeling of failure only encourages us to give up, and I think that is the only wrong answer. To quit trying. I'm not saying kill yourself trying to be the best. Be reasonable. You can be a great parent, and enjoy it at the same time. Your lifestyle has to work for everyone, not just you, not just your kids. This isn't rocket science. Just live life, and deal with situations as they arise, make the decisions that are right for you (and that don't hurt anyone else), own up to your decisions, have confidence in yourself, and don't worry about what anyone else thinks. I find when I adopt this approach, motherhood comes easy to me, too.

This rant isn't just what I think about this article, but it's actually the lesson I have learned myself in the past year. I find it interesting that I am writing this on my birthday. A year ago I was still so insecure. But I have come a long way. This philosophy carries over into my spiritual and political beliefs as well. If you have any questions, feel free to ask. I'd love to get a discussion going. I'm always open to discuss and engage with other ideas and opinions. I'm not afraid to stand up for myself anymore, and even change if need be. I feel like I've finally grown up.

Thoughts, Please! About Our Generation...

There's something that has been on my mind for a while, and I'm still thinking about it, but would like to hear other people's input.

I've noticed, in talking to my peers, that often our parents have a hard time letting us, their adult kids, "go". They mean well, and it's nice that they want to help, but it seems hard for them to accept that we are adults, and in charge of our own lives now. It's not a horrible thing, but I wonder if this is relatively new? Am I wrong in thinking that a couple generations ago, this wasn't the case? I know a lot of things have changed in the last 2-3 generations.

Is it because our generation is more independent-minded than in the past? And that we don't grow up and stay in the same community our whole lives anymore? Some grandparents have a less active role in their grandkids lives for a variety of reasons, so they try to get whatever control and influence they can?

Is it because there is so much new, and often conflicting, information out there about parenting? What was done a generation or two ago is no longer acceptable, which could be hard for them to accept. There is also a wide range of current "acceptable" parenting styles, and opinions on these styles. A few generations ago, I don't think parenting choices caused this much of a headache. You just did what you did, and it was generally the same thing your parents did. So it's understandable that our parents could be a little hurt or offended that we do things differently than they did, even though we are basing our decisions on research, and not meaning to be hurtful through our decisions. We do it because we think that is the best for our kids, we are not resentful about the way we were raised.

Is it because our parents were the first to have access to birth control, and therefore having children was a choice, something they did for themselves, as opposed to something that just happened as a result of marriage? In the past people had kids because that's just what people did, it was expected, and maybe even was considered a contribution to society and the future. Obviously this is no longer true, today having children is a serious and profound decision, and not necessarily right for everyone. This is the point I have been contemplating the most. Our parents, in general (everyone has their own individual story, of course) were able to have children for their own fulfillment, and had a lot of control over their family size (and many other aspects of family life). So when we grow up and move away, there is a huge void there, their source of fulfillment is gone.

Is it because the world wasn't as "safe" when we grew up as in past generations, so our parents were more involved in our lives, overlooking and controlling much more than past generations? Having fewer kids makes it easier to micro-manage as well. I find with myself, the more kids I have, the more "free-range" I become. In the past, when families were bigger, it was just impossible to be involved with every aspect of your childrens' lives. Also, we have so many modern conveniences today, that we actually have enough "free time" to spend with our kids that past generations didn't have.

Is it because we have been "protected" and "coddled" so much our whole lives that we are afraid/refuse to be responsible for ourselves, and thus look to our parents/the government/other people to take care of us and our kids? Our whole culture in general has been trying to pawn off any personal responsibility since World War 2 it seems.

Is it a mix of all of these reasons? Other things I haven't thought of yet?

These are just some thoughts that have been running through my head, I'm not trying to come to any solid conclusions. And I'm NOT complaining, just observing, and thinking out loud. Maybe I am totally off in thinking that this is a relatively new concept. But I would love to hear your thoughts on this too! Do you think it is different for young parents today who are starting out vs when our grandparents were new parents? Obviously it's different in many ways, but I'm thinking as far as how much, and in what ways, grandparents are involved in the raising of their grandkids, and how easily/readily they can "let go" of control over their adult children. Also, what other reasons could there be for these changes? Do you think it's a positive or nagative change, or simply just humanity evolving with our circumstanes in life?

Thanks! I look forward to hearing from you.

Soccer Mom

Yep, that's me!

Haaaaaa! I never ever saw that coming. Seriously. Soccer was never my thing. I only really played it in gym class and at camp, where I earned the nickname 'the pylon'. I even have a pylon tattoo, no joke.



BUT, Judith wants to play soccer, and since she doesn't have dance over the summer, I thought it was a good idea. So I looked it up online (back in March), and noticed that the games are 1 block from my house, and the registration deadline was that day. So it was meant to be.

She is just playing in a house league with 4 & 5 year-olds. Hopefully it will be fun, and not too scary for me.

Did I mention that I am the team's assistant coach? Yes, I am crazy, thanks for pointing that out. Hopefully my fondness for kids will overshadow my fear of the ball. It worked when I was a camp counsellor for 5 summers... I didn't want to coach, especially since it's my first year, but it was one of those situations where someone had to step up or the team couldn't play. I'm a sucker for that kind of thing...

I really, really hope no parents are competitive. I won't stand a chance.

Anyway, so as usual I am embarking on a new adventure. Go Titans!

Books

I'm sorry that I haven't posted anything since lent ended on Sunday! Our Mac computer is in the shop, so I am unable to post any pictures, and seriously, what fun is a blog post without pictures?

But I guess I do have something I could share with you: my current reads.

I really enjoyed doing lots of reading over lent! I used to read a lot, but lately haven't seemed to have the time. But that is going to change, because I have rekindled that love. Plus, I find that when I am online I get really grouchy with the kids, but if I'm reading, I can still be pleasant. It's easier to set a book down than walk away from the computer, for some reason, when the kids need me.

If I had more time I would link all of these, but I don't. Sorry. If you are interested in these books, you will just have to search for them on Amazon or something. Or look for them at your local library (where I got most of these). It will be worth the effort.

So, here are the books I have read:

Discipline Without Distress by Judy Arnall (very good!)

Pregnancy, Childbirth and the Newborn by Penny Simkin (large book, but excellent and I would recommend this for all first-time expectant parents)

Instinctive Birth by Val Clark (very good)

PeeWee Pilates by Holly Jean Cosner (really really good, Pilates exercises for mom & baby)

Endometriosis for Dummies by Joseph W. Krotec (informative, interesting as far as a book about endo can be...)

Sex + Money: A Global Search for Human Worth by A Voice for the Voiceless, PhotogenX - Kona (YWAM) (very well done, my only issue is how they blame free enterprise for the proliferation of sex trafficking, while I personally believe it has a lot more to do with government corruption and prohibition, but that's a whole other blog post. Overall it's an excellent expository book)

In the Womb by Peter Tallack (very awesome visual and descriptive journey through pregnancy)

Labor of Love: A Midwife's Memoir by Cara Muhlhahn (EXCELLENT! My favourite book of them all. It's 256 pages, and I finished it in less than 48 hours, I couldn't put it down!!!)

I am currently reading: Your Best Birth by Ricki Lake and Abby Epstein (good so far!)

I also read 2 Today's Parent magazines, 2 Birthing magazines, 1 Mothering magazine, and my Bible (although not all of it, unfortunately).

There is a pile on my book shelf I have yet to read, including:

The Doula Book by Marshall Klaus

The Birth Partner by Penny Simkin

Dr. Jack Newman's Guide to Breastfeeding by Jack Newman

A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Donald Miller

It Sucked and then I Cried: How I Had a Baby, a Breakdown, and a Much Needed Margarita by Heather B. Armstrong

So, that's what I have been up to! I wonder if I will ever get sick of reading about birth?

My Kids, My Identity

I just finished reading this article about moms who put photos of their children on facebook. It was a really odd experience for me. Some parts I agreed with, some parts really made me smile (as I took some of the things she intended to be negative as a wonderful, positive thing), and other parts made me realize that she is a bit off in some of her logic.

I found that article through this blog entry. I thoroughly enjoyed this one. Go read it. Actually read them both. Now. I will wait, don't worry.

So, what did you think? Well, since this is my blog, I will tell you what I think (please feel free to tell me your side of the story too!!! That's what comments are for). I will try and edit the swearing out before I publish it.

First of all, I have to tell you that, coincidentally my current facebook profile pic is one of my children. All 3 of them, magically smiling and looking at the camera simultaneously, a rare and wonderful catch. I don't post pictures of my children as my profile regularly, but this one was just too good. I even remember when I posted it, thinking, "Yeah, it's not me, but it is SO much me at the same time."

I can and do see so much of myself in my children, the good and the bad. My children are also definitely shaping who I am. Is that a bad thing? Am I, indeed, "losing" myself? No way! Except maybe in the way that, in losing myself I have truly found myself. Jesus talks about a similar thing in the book of Matthew (10:39); "Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." The sentiment is repeated in Matt. 16:25. I think I'm beginning to realize what this passage is saying. The journey has been hard and I do find myself at times wondering what I have become. But life soon enough answers that for me. I may have lost what I thought I was, but now I know who I truly am.

In order to say what I want about all this, first I have to take you for a walk down memory lane. Come with me now.

I never dreamed of being a mother when I was a child or teen. I figured it would happen, but like Katie Roiphe advises, my children would have to stay on the back burner and not interfere with MY life. I wanted to go to university and BE something, and save the world while I was at it. But then I couldn't decide what to do, there was too much I wanted to do. So I decided to go to Bible college for a year, to figure things out, hopefully. My experience there is a story in itself, but the amazing thing was that I did figure things out. Not everything, but the next step. I got married at the ripe old age of 20. I was a Bible college bride (shut up!). Two things I NEVER wanted! But it was perfect. I gave up the university dream, at least for the time being, but for something much better. I still didn't want children too soon though. I still had no idea how they would fit into my life, I was very much afraid at the prospect of being a mother. I never liked, or had any experience with babies.

So I "accidentally" got pregnant at 21. I was scared, and excited, but mostly scared. Especially since we were planning on going to Australia. That ended up being a huge blessing though. Maternity care in Australia is much better than here, and I felt like being so far from home allowed me to do everything the way I wanted to, without anyone else trying to influence me. I got knocked down big time though. Judith's birth didn't go the way I had envisioned (although it still went way better than it would have here), and breastfeeding was way harder than I had ever imagined. So of course I ended up very depressed. And that depression lasted 18 months before I finally sought help. I struggled with undiagnosed depression all through my teenage years, so I was used to coping with it, and hiding it, but finally I realized that it was not right, and it was up to me to do something about it. As soon as I was finally feeling better, I got pregnant again, which threw me back down into depression. A few weeks before Gideon was born God told me that He was going to free me from depression. But He forgot to tell me that it would get worse before it got better. Gideon's birth was alright. There was a last-minute ambulance ride to the hospital, but everything ended up being fine and the birth was 100% natural. But then there were a few minor breastfeeding difficulties and a labial hematoma that took 10 weeks to go away. I was doing ok mentally though, until about 3 or so months postpartum, when my thyroid crashed and took me down with it. I saw my naturopath right away that time, and got myself back on my feet.

Then something amazing happened. When I got pregnant with Ruthie, I felt that cloud of depression lift for good. I was loving life, and was very busy. Ruthie's birth was incredibly empowering. And everything has been wonderful ever since!

So that brings me up to today, where I am sitting in front of this big screen, reading the above articles and then writing to you.

I love my life. I seriously do. I've been thinking about that a lot lately. I've come a long way since becoming a mom, and I feel like I am finally on top of my game. Motherhood is one of the greatest things that ever happened to me. It's not for everyone, but it is for me. Sure, it has also been the hardest, most painful thing
I've ever done, but that makes it even more worthwhile. It's the reason I get up in the morning (literally). My kids fill my life with joy. They are my greatest investment and contribution to the world. They have taught me about life, and about myself. In having them I have learned who I truly am.

I have learned that I am weak. That I am powerful. That I'm not as patient as I thought. That I can do anything. That I am capable of enduring so much pain. That I am loved. That I can fail. That I can learn. That I can make a fucking good lasagna. That I need my alone time. That I can rise above my feelings. That everyone deserves love. I could go on and on. Becoming a mother made me "get it".

My kids are my life right now. Why wouldn't they be? Sure, I also love to talk about God and food and justice and women's rights, etc. Wait a minute, women's rights? I'm a stay-at-home-mom and housewife and I care about women's rights? Why yes, yes I do. I made the choice to stay home with my kids. I'm glad I have that choice. It's a very respectable choice. You can make your own choice, and that choice is fine with me. I don't have to work outside of the house in order to have my own identity. And yeah, my kids are a big part of my identity, what's it to you? Why not proudly post their faces on my facebook? It's MY facebook! I can post a picture of a celebrity, and that's fine, but not my kids? My kids are some of the coolest people I know. They don't totally define me, but they sure add a lot to my life, and they ARE my "flesh and blood". Yes, I would be lost without them! That doesn't mean I'm not my own person, we are just profoundly intertwined, and I think that's wonderful. I will always be Judith's mama (And Gideon's and Ruthie's and our future children's). It's fricken awesome. They aren't my identity, but they helped me find it.

The women who post pics of their kids are not gone. Sure, lots of women do go through an identity crisis when they have kids, it's normal with any big life change. Just give them time and they will figure it out. They will see that our culture has done them a disservice in telling them that they need to maintain a superficial "identity" on trite social networking sites like facebook. They will see that their children can teach them more about real life than university can. They know, for them, their kids bring them more fulfillment than their degree. They know that raising their kids is more important than their job or book club. Perhaps they are, indeed, still feminists, but they aren't going to take that crap about supposedly needing to put their kids on the back burner of their lives in order to still "be" someone. Maybe they want to wear their pjs all day. They know there's more to life than having a pretty picture.

Posting my kids photo as my profile does not mean I think that I don't matter anymore. Of course I matter, without me, these kids wouldn't be here to smile so beautifully for the camera. To these kids, I matter THE MOST in the world. And they matter the most to me. I've hardly vanished. If anything I go unappreciated for the true weight of importance I carry in my family, and in the world. I matter a lot.

You know what else? I post about my kids in my statuses all the time too! Ooooooh, look at me taking it a step farther! Yeah, I bet all of my 545 friends don't care how many times the toddler pooped today, the baby was up to feed in the night, or the preschooler said something fabulously awkward. But that's my life, so that's what I'm going to share, and I love it!

Katie said "The answer seems clear: because with all good intentions we have over-devoted ourselves to our children’s education and entertainment and general formation. Because we have chipped away at the idea of independent adult life, of letting children dream up a place for themselves, in their rooms, on the carpets, in our gardens, on their own."

FAIL. She obviously hasn't met the children I know. I'm sure there are a lot of uber controlling parents out there, but most of us invest our time and lives into our kids, to encourage them to dream and have a secure independent adulthood. We don't hover over them 24/7, and hey, they have lots of time to play by themselves in their rooms and gardens while we spend hours talking about parenting on facebook! Duh.

Anyway, I know this swerved off topic a bit, and was a little choppy, but I just want to tell the world that I am happier, right now, and more satisfied with life, and with who I am, than I have ever been in my life. Having children, and being bowled off the path that our culture would have for me as a smart, young woman, by giving up my so called "individuality" and self-absorbed life in order to be a wife and mother, was the BEST thing to ever happen to me. It's my story. It's who I am. When I look at that photo of my 3 beautiful children, I do see myself. What I am and what I have done. And maybe this is what I want to show the world.

P.S. I hate those squeaky shoes too. My kids will never have them.

Presence

A friend of mine noted on her blog a little while ago how children are always completely present in everything they do. I've watched my children, and it's so true. When they do something, they are 100% there; in mind, body, and soul. They aren't worrying about anything else, their attention isn't divided, and they can focus completely on the task at hand, whether it's building a Lego tower or throwing the world's worst tantrum. Nothing else matters. Even Judith, who bounces from thing to thing to thing with boundless energy, is still totally present, all the time.

I can learn a lot from them. These days it seems like I am never entirely present. I think it's a survival mechanism, something I've developed to cope with the stress of mothering. I don't give myself fully to anything. It's almost like I've put walls up to prevent myself from being completely immersed in reality. But it really doesn't help at all. It actually hinders my daily life and relationships. I feel terrible about it, because my kids deserve better. It's hard as a mom these days, I feel like there is so much expected of me. I need to do 2 or 3 things at a time just to survive. Even right now, I am typing on the computer, watching a movie with Judith, and trying to keep Gideon from rolling on to Ruthie (his favourite way of showing affection) who is lying beside me since she just finished nursing. I know sometimes it has to be that way to get things done, especially with a nursing baby. But I know that I could be wiser with my time and energy, and focus more on being fully present, no matter what I'm doing. Things will still get chaotic, but it would be better to take a deep breath and dive in fully to where I am at that moment, rather than try and take it all on at once.

I've been conducting a little experiment lately. I've made a point in spending at least some time every day, focused 100% on the kids. You know what, it's HARD! It takes a lot of effort, and most of the time I fail. I get easily distracted by other things that need to be done, and most of the time I catch my mind wandering elsewhere, like to what's for supper, the latest parenting issue, something I read on facebook, or how dirty my carpets are (etc etc etc). It drives me CRAZY, and I so badly just want to 'check out' mentally. I try to escape by disengaging my heart and mind. Or I will sit at the computer, then get frustrated when the kids will not leave me alone. But when I can do it, when I can be completely present with the kids for a little while - physically, mentally and emotionally - it's amazing. I learn so much about them, and fall in love in new ways. I get intoxicated by the smell of breastmilk on Ruthie's breath, enchanted by the sparkle in Gideon's eye, and astounded by the beauty in every move Judith makes. They are SUCH amazing little people! It's so worth it, I don't know why I let myself get distracted by other things all the time.

The kids are also so happy when I can focus on them! They behave so well, and I feel like I can be the parent they deserve. I enjoy it too! I find when I am 100% there with the kids, the stress in my life just melts away. I can find joy in the little things again. Simple activities like making cookies with Judith, building train tracks with Gideon, or just sitting and staring at Ruthie while I nurse, makes SUCH a difference for them! When I look deep into their eyes while we interact, all is well with the world, they feel safe and loved. It's wonderful for me too. The colour starts coming back into my life, and I can't help but taste pure delight.

The same applies to time spent with Dave. I've been making a point of talking and cuddling with him at night instead of reading or going on the computer, and he appreciates that. Even just a few minutes leaves me feeling a lot more connected.

I could even apply this to housework. When I can focus and put myself totally into what I'm doing, not worrying about the big picture but merely doing the task at hand, it gets done faster and better. I can feel satisfaction in what I am doing, and what I have accomplished.

I need to apply this to my "me" time as well (when I actually get it). That is the hardest part. I don't get a whole lot of time, but when I do, my brain and my heart are always elsewhere. I've got a million 'to-do's' on my mind, and worries in my heart. That's probably why I never feel recharged after.

There are so many great things about living in this technological day and age. I love that I can keep in touch with my friends and family all over the world, that every kind of information is available right at my finger tips, and I don't have to slave away all day just to survive. But this lifestyle is still a busy one. My brain is overwhelmed and overloaded, my heart is divided between so many things, and my time mysteriously slips away day after day. It seems almost impossible to simply focus on one thing at a time. It takes a lot of effort and intention. But if I can do it, even just for a little while every day, I feel so much happier and in control of my life. I definitely don't have it all figured out, and I really need to work on this, but I think it's worth it to try. My family deserves it, and this time I have while they are with me is too precious to waste by spreading myself too thin. Maybe eventually I will regain that ability I seem to have lost in adulthood, to be absolutely and completely present in everything that I do. To be like a child again.

Excuses

I had an interesting conversation with a dear friend online this week. It started out being about breastfeeding (how so many women don't despite all of the evidence that it is best for babies), and then became more of an observation about our culture in general. We talked about how self-centered we are, infatuated with comfort and convenience, and so quick to give up when things get tough. Our society teaches us not to judge, and encourages everyone to do "what's right for them". In a lot of aspects, this is a good thing. But what about in cases where there is a clear "right" thing to do? One of the phrases my friend used, which she was told by a counselor, was "The right thing to do is the right thing to do, ya know?" This really made me think.

Now, I am a fairly shy person, and have always had problems standing up for myself or for what is right (at least in person, it's easier in writing). I really don't want to offend anyone or have them upset at me. But is this attitude really helping anyone? Would I, and those around me, be better off if I had the guts to confront people about serious issues? If more parents felt pressure to do the right thing, would that be so bad? Most people automatically get so defensive when confronted about parenting issues, instead of thinking about what the actual consequences of their actions might be. Why do we always feel such an incredible amount of guilt? Maybe sometimes people just genuinely want to help, even if they are, in fact, judging. Does that have to be such a horrible thing? My friend also said "Women already feel guilty about things like breastfeeding. They just need to know that it's ok to actually fix the problem. To go ahead and be mothers to their children. I know I needed that push." It's ok to try and be something better, to try and do the right thing when you are confronted with it. Accepting encouragement and making changes is a positive thing. Sometimes we need to lay down our pride for the sake of our kids.

I had a really hard time with breastfeeding when Judith was a baby (you can read My Breastfeeding Story via the link on the left column of my blog), but everyone around me pushed me to persevere. I hated it. I felt judged and inadequate, and I wished someone would tell me it's ok to give up and give her a bottle. But I was blessed enough to continuously be told that breastfeeding was best, and that was my only option. It was so hard at the time, and I didn't think I could do it. It was the hardest thing I had ever done. But I did it. And it made me a better mother, not just because I was feeding my baby the best food possible, but because that experience taught me that I could do ANYTHING. That it was ok to endure pain and suffer for a good cause. That my kids are worth it all. That parenting is hard work, and I can't pawn it off on anyone else. I wouldn't have learned those lessons by giving up.

I know I've probably offended someone by now. I'm not sure if that's good or bad. I really don't want anyone to feel guilty or bad about themselves or past decisions, there's nothing anyone can do about that. Everyone has their own individual story, reasons for their decisions, and experiences. All we have is right now, and we can choose to make changes right now, and for the future. If you're offended, I'd encourage you to take a moment and think about why you feel that way. But that's not where I'm going with this.

The conversation I had with my friend made me think about myself. How often do I make excuses? There are so many things that I should do, that I just don't. I have my list of excuses; I'm too tired, I don't feel up to it, I had a rough day, my feelings are hurt, I'm afraid, I don't know how, etc. I know and accept that my feelings are real and valid, but should they be allowed to derail my life? My grandmothers didn't have that option. But my generation seems to constantly grope for reasons to be lazy. I'm not saying I should kill myself in order to keep an immaculate house, but I probably could do better. And hey, if I did better, I might even feel better.

Tonight (Monday night) was very rough. Dave was out and I put the kids to bed myself. It took about 3 hours to tidy up the house, give the kids a bath, get them dressed, teeth brushed, books read, all the while trying to nurse, burp, or console Ruthie (she was NOT in a good mood). At any given moment there was at least 1, if not 3, children screaming and/or crying. Most of the time I was crying too, but I didn't have a choice, I had to persevere, keep pushing to get things done, and try to keep it all together. I was so frustrated and exhausted. But right now, now that it's all done, I'm glad I did it and feel much better. I was really tempted to skip tidying the house, but now that it's tidy I have a great sense of satisfaction. I would have felt like crap waking up tomorrow to the mess. I'm glad I didn't give in to the excuses to quit that were running through my head.

In the past I have struggled with depression, and I know back then I wouldn't have been able to push through and get everything done like I did tonight. But even if I were to become depressed again, I don't think that would give me the right to wallow in it. My kids deserve better than that. Having been through that already, I know that there is help out there, and it would be up to me to get it. I would have to talk to my doctor (naturopath) about it, and seek counseling, even if I didn't want to. It's hard to find the initiative to get help when you're depressed, but you can do it.

I really want to work on my discipline. It's severely lacking in my life. I could use the excuse that I have 3 kids, and yes, my house will never be perfect because of this, but I bet I could do better. I want to organize my time and my life better, I'm sure that would help me be less stressed, and allow me the freedom to be more present in each moment, and have more focus on the task at hand. There are some moms I know that get SO much accomplished in a day, without losing their minds, and I want to be like that. I want to give more to my husband, my kids, my house, and myself. I don't want my feelings and circumstances to own me.

Anyways, it's late, and my brain doesn't have much juice left (there I go making excuses again!), but I hope this makes sense. I just want to start holding myself to higher standards. I don't want to motivate myself with guilt, I've had enough of that in my life, but rather with the possibility of something better. I'm tired of these lame excuses holding me back.

How to Prepare for Children

I don't remember if I have posted this before, but I found it in another blog and I need to post it, mostly for you, Ashley. =)

How to Prepare for Children

MESS TEST
Smear peanut butter on the sofa and curtains. Place a fish stick
behind the couch and leave it there all summer.

TOY TEST
Obtain a 55-gallon box of LEGOs (or you may substitute roofing
tacks). Have a friend spread them all over the house. Put on a
blindfold. Try to walk to the bathroom or kitchen. Do not scream
because this would wake a child at night.

GROCERY STORE TEST
Borrow one or two small animals (goats are best) and take them
with you as you shop. Always keep them in sight and pay for
anything they eat or damage.

DRESSING TEST
Obtain one large, unhappy, live octopus. Stuff into a small net
bag making sure that all the arms stay inside.

FEEDING TEST
Obtain a large plastic milk jug. Fill halfway with water. Suspend
from the ceiling with a cord. Start the jug swinging. Try to
insert spoonfuls of soggy cereal into the mouth of the jug, while
pretending to be an airplane. Now dump the contents of the jug on
the floor.

NIGHT TEST
Prepare by obtaining a small cloth bag and fill it with 8-12
pounds of sand. Soak it thoroughly in water. At 3:00 p.m. begin
to waltz and hum with the bag until 9:00 p.m. Lay down your bag
and set your alarm for 10:00 p.m. Get up, pick up your bag, and
sing every song you have ever heard. Make up about a dozen more
and sing these too until 4:00 a. m. Set alarm for 5:00 a.m. Get
up and make breakfast. Keep this up for 5 years. Look cheerful.

INGENUITY TEST
Take an egg carton. Using a pair of scissors and pot of paint,
turn it into an alligator. Now take a toilet paper tube and turn
it into an attractive Christmas candle. Use only scotch tape and
a piece of foil. Last, take a milk carton, a Ping-Pong ball, and
an empty box of Cocoa Puffs. Make an exact replica of the Eiffel
Tower.

AUTOMOBILE TEST
Forget the BMW and buy a station wagon. Buy a chocolate ice cream
cone and put it in the glove compartment. Leave it there. Get a
dime. Stick it into the cassette player. Take a family size
package of chocolate chip cookies. Mash them into the back seat.
Run a garden rake along both sides of the car. There, perfect.

PHYSICAL TEST (Women)
Obtain a large bean bag chair and attach it to the front of your
clothes. Leave it there for 9 months. Now remove 10 of the beans.

PHYSICAL TEST (Men)
Go to the nearest drug store. Set your wallet on the counter. Ask
the clerk to help himself. Now proceed to the nearest food store.
Go to the head office and arrange for your paycheck to be
directly deposited to the store. Purchase a newspaper. Go home
and read it quietly for the last time.

FINAL ASSIGNMENT
Find a couple who already have a small child. Lecture them on how
they can improve their discipline, patience, tolerance, toilet
training and child's table manners. Suggest many ways they can
improve. Emphasize to them that they should never allow their
children to run wild. Enjoy this experience. It will be the last
time you will have all the answers.

Hahahahaha.

Hidden Valley Thoughts

For the next while, I'm going to try following some weekly memes to see if that will help inspire me to blog more. Yesterday I did the Simple Woman's Day Book, which I'm going to try and do Mondays. Tuesdays I want to try and do Hidden Valley Thoughts. I also want to continue with my 1000 Gifts project. There are buttons for all of these on the left column of my blog if you want more info. Fridays I will try and post a recipe, I enjoy doing those. The other days will be the usual programming, if I can come up with stuff. Let me know if there are any other fun memes or blog ideas out there!

About Hidden Valley Thoughts:


"As a career woman, turned stay-at-home-mom, I have learned what it means to live in a hidden valley.

"Moms live in a hidden valley day after day, completing tasks that will never be recognized but always taken for granted, putting in longer days than even the most ambitious career woman, and playing more roles than a well paid movie actress.

"They wake up each morning, longing to write that book, open that art gallery, record the music CD, start that exercise studio, and then fall into bed each night, too exhausted to pursue those dreams.

"There are tears that no one sees, laughter that no one hears, and lessons that few people ever hear about.

"Once a week, those who want to share a particular lesson or incident that took place in their Hidden Valley, can do so. It may be something God taught you, a moment of letting your kids play in the mud as you realize a little dirt doesn't hurt anybody, or a video that stuck a chord in your soul. Whatever it is, if it touched you, share it with us!"

I want to start off with this video, this is totally my life since becoming a mother:



I love Gypsee Yo. =)

I Bet the Baby is Teething...

At least that's about how I feel when I've been up all night with a teething baby.



I totally feel her pain!

To-Do Lists, Revised

My list of chores is simple: Meals (and meal planning/grocery shopping), Dishes, Sweeping, Mopping, Vacuuming, Garbages, Laundry, Bills, and Cleaning the Bathroom. I don't even dust. But I can never seem to accomplish these simple things according to my weekly plan. Never. I do get it done eventually, but not before it reaches a disastrous state. My to-do lists on paper remain small and unaccomplished.

I always think I am capable of doing so much in a day. For some reason the part of my brain responsible for planning and list making doesn't know that I have 2 kids and am pregnant with another. When I sit down to make my daily to-do list (I need a list or I do nothing), I always think "Yeah, I can totally do all that." But seriously, since I became a mom, I NEVER get my lists done. EVER. I used to always complete my lists, and I would take great satisfaction in that. But now I guess I just have too much to do, and way more distractions than ever. Oh, and a lot less brain cells (it feels like, anyway), and energy.

At the same time, when I think back to everything I actually did at the end of the day, it really is a lot. I feel like I am capable of so much, because I AM. I should just make my to-do list up of the things I ACTUALLY do all day. Maybe I wouldn't feel like such a failure at the end of the day if my list looked like this:

~change diaper
~scrape poop into toilet
~nurse Gideon
~make snack
~clean up spill
~talk to Dave on the phone
~put Gideon down for a nap
~re-roll an entire roll of loose, unused toilet paper
~pick up toys
~nurse wounded foot after stepping on toys
~clean off table
~pick up clothes
~find random dirty cups and cutlery around the house
~help Gideon down from couch
~supervise craft
~change DVD
~retrieve Gideon from toilet/bathtub/top of stairs/garbage can/laundry machine/kitchen
~hang up coats
~put away shoes
~find Lambie
~fish bead/small toy/marble/chalk from Gideon's mouth
~blow bubbles
~read books
~pick dandelions
~supervise Judith's home-made gymnastics circuit
~retrieve stapler/glue/paint/markers/tools/tape measure/other things Judith shouldn't have from under her bed where she stashes those kinds of things
~wipe yogurt stain off couch
~narrate my day in song
~eat Gideon's toes
~make new baby in belly
~respond to never-ending WHY questions
~inquire as to Judith's lack of underwear
~find random bits of Play-Doh and put away
~wipe children's faces after taking a really cute photo and realizing they are dirty
~bathe children
~sop up aftermath of bath from bathroom floor
~sit with Judith and console her after she hurts herself
~kiss booboos and administer band-aids
~dispense finger paint
~wash hand-shaped paint spots off walls and table and bathroom sink
~re-fold all of the face cloths.
~play "Catch"
~attempt to distract Gideon when Judith won't share her trains
~walk down the hill and hope for a real train to come by
~be overwhelmingly excited at the sight of a train
~melt into a puddle while watching the kids playing and laughing together
~participate in puppet plays and magically know Judith's secret plot line as to not cause a meltdown.
~play with invisible cats
~walk uphill to the park with Gideon on my hip while pulling Judith on her bike
~push two kids on swings at once
~make train tracks in the gravel
~check mail for surprises from Grandma
~tend to flower garden
~run away from bees
~deny constant requests for sugar and ice cream
~find the missing baby sock
~follow the trail of crumbs to locate the source
~remove crumbs from feet
~help decide which dress is the best to spin in
~tear apart house looking for missing puzzle piece
~remove Judith from refrigerator
~find half eaten yogurt cups and apples stashed around the house
~build lego towers
~play with PhotoBooth
~sing "Old McDonald" and other various songs, as per request
~dance, dance, dance
~dispense hugs, kisses and "I love you"'s like Pez
~dispense actual Pez
~photograph everything
~blog it

Wow, I can't believe that was all just off the top of my head. I'm sure I could go on and on and on if I had more time and energy. Ha, I'm sure I could do a lot of things if I had more time and energy... Also please note that most of those things I do more than once (or 20 times...) a day. AND that is just my list of things I do at home, during the day (not including bed time and all through the night). We also go out a lot which involves a slew of other tasks. Even just getting both kids from the door to the van involves a lot of work.

And those are all just things I "do". I could make a whole other huge list of things I think, plan, organize and worry about on a daily basis, which honestly consumes just as much energy. And then there's the things I attempt to do for myself like shower, read, eat, get dressed, look in the mirror, and go online. Even those things are no longer straightforward and simple when you have kids.

Hm, no wonder moms are so tired.

Ok, so my plan from now on is not to look back at the end of each day and see what I didn't do, but rather what I DID do. All of those little things add up! Perhaps, in reality, all of these "distractions" that keep me from accomplishing my to-do lists are what's really important anyway.

What are some other little things that you do as a mama that deserves recognition?

A Starbucks Moment

The other day I picked up soy chai lattes for all of us at Starbucks, and the quotation on Judith's cup was "Mother-love is not inevitable. The good mother is a great artist ever creating beauty out of chaos." It really spoke to me. I have been struggling lately with my identity as a young mother. So much of what was in my heart pre-motherhood has been put on hold, or forgotten altogether. Some days I wonder if I will ever have the chance to actually be the creative person I know is in there. This simple inscription on the side of my little girl's cup gave me hope that, perhaps, I AM indeed being true to my heart and my purpose in life. It just looks differently than I thought it would. Even just the wording of it spoke to me on many personal levels that I won't take the time to explain here. I will have to remind myself of this next time I get discouraged with my life.

Marriage or Motherhood?

I saw this a while ago on dooce.com, and I am curious about what other mamas think.




What is harder, marriage or motherhood?

For me, motherhood has been MUCH harder.

Unlike when I first became a mother, there was no depression that followed marriage. Also, Dave and I are really introspective, and when issues and feelings come up, we are always able to figure out WHY there's a problem, and talk it out without hurting each other. We just talk a lot in general. He is definitely my best friend and I trust him way way more than anyone else in the world. Everything is just kind of laid out on the table. When there is a problem we can reason together and fix it.

However, there is no reasoning with babies! I think that is why I like the toddler & preschooler phases better than the baby phase. I can talk to them and they understand. Babies are just HARD on me. Being prone to depression doesn't help. And also having fussy, discontent babies (Judith was worse, of course, but the first 3 months of Gideon's life were awful too).

Marriage has only built me up, but motherhood really broke me down. I don't regret either, but the motherhood experience has been much harder for me than the marriage experience.

What about you?

I am really interested in hearing your responses. I wonder if it has anything to do with whether as a couple you are predominantly friends or lovers? I've heard that even though all married couples are both friends and lovers, that one or the other is the dominant part of the relationship. It never occurred to me that some couples could be better lovers than friends. Friendship has always been the foundation of my marriage, and I couldn't imagine it any other way. But at the same time I can't imagine how marriage can be harder than motherhood, but obviously that is true of a lot of mamas.

Or I wonder if postpartum depression plays a big role? Or is it simply personality differences? Or some of us just aren't baby-people, and motherhood just isn't natural for us? Or does it have to do with how we were raised and what our own families were like? Or being introverted vs. extroverted? Or the circumstances around why you got married, and if the pregnancy was planned or not? Or what life was like before kids? Or are there just multiple different factors for everyone that determines which is harder?

So, is marriage or motherhood harder for you, and why?

Some of My Favourite Moments

Are the sleepy moments.





There is just something so beautiful about sleeping children.

10 Things I Have Learned

10 Things I Have Learned Being a Mother:

1. Dirt washes off.

2. Poop washes off.

3. Pee washes off.

4. Blood washes off.

5. Vomit washes off.

6. Snot washes off.

7. Chocolate washes off.

8. Caked-on food washes off.

9. Vicks VapoRub washes off.

10. Sharpie marker... can be painted over.


Mostly, I've learned not to freak out about everything, because in the end it can be cleaned up, fixed, or really wasn't that important to begin with, and it really isn't that big of a deal.

My Breastfeeding Experience

Breastfeeding is something I always assumed I would do. I was breastfed as a baby, and it just made sense. What everyone failed to inform me, however, was how difficult it could be.

My daughter was born after a 43.5 hour labour. I was completely exhausted and suffering from a second degree tear, but that did not seem to interfere with the intense feeling of euphoria that flooded my body. I wanted to start breastfeeding right away. There was a shift change in the hospital right after the birth, and my wonderful midwife was replaced with one that was not so gracious. The baby's head was shoved on to my breast, and I was left to basically figure it out on my own.

I had no idea how much it was going to hurt. After a few hours the euphoria was gone and the exhaustion and pain I was experiencing was overwhelming. I couldn't sleep. I was overflowing with hormones and emotions that I was not prepared to deal with. The baby kept crying, but I couldn't figure out how to feed her, and was too weak to pick her up or hold her very long. In the morning a new midwife came and showed me some compassion, but didn't have time to stay with me and help. She told me that breastfeeding was going to hurt me more than most women because I was so fair and had flat nipples. But that I could do it just as well as anyone else. I was frustrated and by then my nipples were completely destroyed. I had no help, and was getting no rest. Every time the baby cried my heart sank through the floor at the thought of having to endure a feeding. I wasn't sure if I could keep doing it. The thought of nursing for a whole year, 6 months, or even 3 months was too overwhelming to think about. I couldn't believe other women could actually do this, it was so hard.

We ended up leaving the hospital early and then spent a day or so in a birthing centre where there were no other patients and the midwives were able to give me their full attention. Finally, after many tears and having two midwives constantly at my side for what seemed like an eternity trying and trying and trying to get the baby to cooperate, she finally figured out how to latch properly. She had become a very fussy baby, undoubtedly just as frustrated as me with the whole breastfeeding thing.

I was relieved to be able to go home, although things remained extremely difficult. My nipples had been torn up and bleeding for three days, and even though my daughter finally figured out how to latch properly and was not causing any more damage, the healing process was long and painful. A midwife came to my home every day for a week to check on the baby and I and help with breastfeeding. My daughter lost a lot of weight in the first three days, was running a fever, and was still not feeding well, so I ended up having to go visit my doctor. Fortunately, my doctor, midwives and everyone around me was very supportive of breastfeeding and switching to formula was never suggested, even though I secretly wished I could just give up and be done with it. After about 10 days she finally gained a llittle bit of weight. She wasn't back up to her birth weight, but she had at least gained some, so my doctor was satisfied with that and just urged me to continue on. I was also surrounded by a wonderful community that believed in me and encouraged me to persevere. My husband and I were living in Australia at the time, and our families were back in Canada, so I don't know what we would have done without our amazing friends. I learned to take it one feeding at a time, and not worry about anything else. Breastfeeding was now my more-than-full-time job.

It took 3 weeks for my nipples to finally heal, and considering that I had to feed 8-10 times a day, around the clock, it was the longest 3 weeks of my life. My nipples were still quite sensitive, even though the wounds were gone. I dreaded every feed. Every time she latched on I would scream and curl my toes. Shortly after the sores and scabs had disappeared, I suffered a short bout of mastitis. I thought I was going to die. But I continued to nurse through it, and after about 24 hours, I started to feel better. My breasts still hurt for several days though. Then just to ensure I had the full spectrum of the painful nursing experience, I got thrush when my daughter was about a month old. It came in association with the constant yeast infections I had which hindered my postpartum healing and made sitting extremely painful, and also horrible fungal infections in my finger and toe nails, which made holding anything and walking painful as well. I was in an extremely rough shape. Not to mention the overwhelming feelings of rejection by my daughter and failure as a mother. I was a physical and an emotional wreck.

My daughter was experiencing her own pain as well, it turns out. She was always fussy at the breast. She would eagerly latch on at first, but shortly after the letdown she would arch her back, pull off and scream. The rest of the feeding would consist of me trying to squirt milk down her throat as she screamed. It was so frustrating for both of us. I was devastated that breastfeeding was a battle rather than a bonding experience. I can recall a few nights in the first couple of weeks where neither of us slept, and we both just cried and cried. She wouldn't sleep all day either. It was very hot. We were both exhausted. She was constantly hungry. She was not a happy baby whatsoever, and never smiled. During the day I would try to feed her for an hour, and then give myself a break for an hour, just holding her while she screamed. Once the sun went down she would normally sleep for a few hours at a time, and accept the breast a little more willingly since we weren't sweating on each other as much.

Three weeks after the birth a mama in our church heard my daughter cry and informed me that she had 'the reflux cry'. Her own two daughters had reflux as babies, and she knew the sound of the distinct cry. She showed us how to hold her upright with a hand firmly on her tummy to ease the pain, and even came to our house and helped us prop up the bassinet so our daughter could sleep as vertical as possible. This helped immensely. We finally got more sleep at night, and were able to help her cope during the day. Nursing was still quite the ordeal, but we were getting used to it. Knowing that my daughter was also in pain helped me to be more compassionate. We were in this together.

Breastfeeding hurt me for the first 4 months of my daughter's life. The reflux affected her ability to nurse and keep food down for 6 or 7 months. But eventually we found our groove. I finally felt like I could breathe again. I had an excellent milk supply thanks to my hour-on-hour-off feeding schedule in the early days. My daughter gained weight, slowly but surely. She was always skinny, but healthy. Eventually she began to smile, and around 6 months after she was born I was rewarded with her first giggle. When we moved back to Canada we were occasionally urged to give her formula, but by then there was no way. We had worked too hard. I was extremely confident in my decision to breastfeed. I realized that this whole experience was indeed a bonding one. We had persevered together despite everything, and in doing so we were bonded together much more solidly than we would have been if breastfeeding had gone smoothly.

Breastfeeding became a big part of who I was, I did a lot of research on it, and decided that I would nurse as long as I could. I discovered attachment parenting, and found a community that supported me. At one point I even considered becoming a lactation consultant.

My daughter ended up nursing for 19 months. Around 18 months of age, she started becoming less interested in the breast and not asking for it much. When I would offer her the breast and she wasn't interested she would bite me, so I quickly stopped trying. Eventually she stopped asking completely. It was totally natural and I didn't experience any pain as a result of weaning. My breastfeeding experience was in like a lion, out like a lamb. I was kind of sad in a way that she weaned so early, I wanted to nurse her until she was at least 2, and had dreams of tandem nursing her and her sibling that we were trying to conceive. But I was completely satisfied. I know I did the right thing, and my daughter and I had a wonderful relationship. I proved to her that I would never give up on her no matter what. I felt like a champion. I was so proud of myself. I can totally understand why many moms choose not to breastfeed or stop breastfeeding, it is definitely not easy. But for us it was worth it. My sense of failure at first had now become a very satisfying sense of accomplishment.

At first breastfeeding was awful, but my daughter and I persevered together, and honestly it taught me so much. I learned to be patient and selfless, and discovered that motherhood was HARD and often painful, but so worth it. Breastfeeding broke me as a person more than anything in my entire life, but like a seed, in doing so made room for much personal growth. It eventually built me up, stronger, wiser, and more determined than ever. It taught me what I needed to know deep in my heart, lessons that cannot be explained in words, and made me into the mother I would need to be for my children. It humbled me, and also empowered me. I think all mothers probably experience this no matter how they feed their babies, but for me the trials (and eventually triumphs) of breastfeeding was my 'make AND break' experience of motherhood. Breastfeeding was so much more than just nourishing my baby, even more than bonding as well. Breastfeeding laid the foundation of motherhood for me.

*****

I am currently breastfeeding my son, who is 6 months old. My experience with him has been completely different. It was hard at first, again, as it took him 2 weeks to figure out how to latch properly, and to be able to handle my powerful letdowns. I would pump a little at first until the flow wasn't as forceful, attempt to nurse him, and then I would pump more and feed him my breastmilk with a small cup. But it didn't hurt at all, thank God. The worst part was having to wash the pump in the middle of the night. After a couple of weeks he figured it out, and we have been going strong ever since. He is such a wonderful baby! He seriously brings so much joy to my life. He has been smiling and giggling from day one, and loves to cuddle. He nurses like a champ, even in public, which has made my life pretty easy. He nurses every 3-4 hours during the day, and every 2-3 hours at night. But he sleeps and naps well, and is just so darn cute and happy, so I don't mind his frequent feeds. At 6 months he is 23 pounds, and no one has suggested giving him formula, haha.



My two breastfeeding experiences were vastly different, but both equally as rewarding. I would encourage any new or expecting mama to stick it out, no matter how hard it is at first. Surround yourself with people that love you and support exclusive breastfeeding. Don't allow yourself the option of giving up (unless absolutely medically necessary, of course). Accept it as a new essential part of life, like breathing, eating, and going to the bathroom, and it won't seem like such a burden. Don't treat it like a chore, or it will become one. It is not easy, but it is worth it. If you can make it through the first few weeks, it gets much better. Persevere, and you will be rewarded in the end. Most of all, cherish the nursing experience with your baby, no matter how much it hurts or frustrates you, because some day you will miss those intimate times.

Gross? What Does That Even Mean Anymore?

This morning as I wiped the snot from Gideon's nose with my sleeve, I realized that becoming a mother has brought me a long way as far as my tolerance for all things "gross".

This morning I also threw the diapers in the wash, grabbing handful after handful of wet and soiled cloths with my bare hand, no problem. Poop washes off.

I get spit up on every day, most of the time I don't even bother changing anymore. Barf stains are the new black for me.

Gideon is a boy. I get peed on sometimes when I change him (although not as much anymore). It happens. Not a big deal.

Potty training Judith involved being peed on, handling soiled clothing, and cleaning up accidents on the floor. I got over it.

I pick at Gideon's cradle cap. All the time. It's addictive.

Some nights when I get up to feed Gideon I realize that my side of the bed is saturated in breastmilk. Then I go back to sleep in it. Like I care what I will smell like in the morning. And the need for sleep outweighs the risk of drowning.

Judith. Spills. Everything. EVERYTHING. You wouldn't believe the towels I go through in a week cleaning up after her. Her face is always dirty and her hands always sticky. But she still deserves hugs and kisses and the hand prints on the walls and my pants don't bother me too much anymore.

Judith often eats off the floor. She drops her food there, and we don't like to waste. Sometimes I cringe because the floors aren't always so clean (because of all the food dropping, it's a vicious cycle). Other times I do it too. I discourage this practice in public places, however.

My kitchen is often starved for attention. We live in a basement apartment, so food starts to bring forth new life after being left out for about 10 seconds. Changing the garbage was agony when I was pregnant. But I've since gotten over it. Mold schmold.

I admit I do intervene when Judith finds something on the ground and immediately puts it in her mouth (candies, straws, popsicle sticks, etc). I take it away of course and try to get it through her head that WE DON'T DO THAT! But she hasn't died yet... or even gotten sick.

I kiss boo boos. Dirty, bloody gross boo boos. Nothing heals and consoles like mama's kisses.

I could probably think of more, but Judith just dumped her potty full of pee all over the bathroom floor... again. Gotta go!