8 years

Eight years ago I met the boy who would change my life in ways I never imagined. Eight years ago I gave birth to my sweet O.

With the haze of 8 years and myriad heartbreaks and joys, I can still see his little wrinkled red face crying, as his father stood awestruck and silent. I was still not sure if he was a boy or a girl, but I knew I loved this baby more than anyone or anything. Within 20 minutes we were nestled together in the recovery room, attempting our first breastfeeding and he latched on right away. It was the most beautiful physical experience of my life.

I hadn't given birth the way I wanted to, but I could feed my precious baby. And so I felt healed and whole, after the disappointment of an epidural and a c-section. Nothing could be wrong after that sweet baby slept in my arms for the first time.

Later that day relatives and friends came to see us and meet O. I barely remember any of that since I was so high on pain meds. But I do remember O and his daddy napping on the hospital bed, so peaceful and content. O with the little blue knit hat on his head. His father's face so full of love and contentment. I never saw anything more beautiful; that is until the moment my two sons met, almost 4 years later.

I have photos of both of these precious moments. The moments when I knew that my heart could never love any more than it did at that moment. The moments when my heart just about burst.

So when life gets difficult (which it often does) or I get angry or annoyed at either my sons or their father; I try to picture those moments. Those precious fleeting moments of pure love and joy.

No matter what else happens and how things change, the four of us are a family. The story of our family started eight years ago today. So today I celebrate more than just the birth of my oldest son, but also the birth of our family.

Vacation, all I ever wanted

I'm spending the week in the Outer Banks with my kids, parents, and brother in the same beach house we have rented two previous times. I suppose it is our tradition now. Like most traditions, it has just happened a couple times and now we just go with it. Every other year we spend a week in this house: the Lord of the Sea.

But here's something you parents all probably know and the child-free might not: vacation with little kids is just like every other day just with more sand, sugar and sunblock. You just change locations, the work load is mostly the same. Grandparents take up some slack with outings and help with baths. But really parents keep parenting. At least I get cool ocean breezes and a good excuse ("it's vacation!") to drink beer in the middle of the afternoon.

This vacation is also weird/hard/weird because the boys are here without their dad. I'm sleeping in the same room in which my youngest was conceived. And everywhere I remember the time we did X, and I feel the happiness for just a moment before the slap of "that's not ever going to happen again" stings me. And I watch the boys frolic and take risks in the ocean, and I just want to turn and look at their dad and say, " Will you get a load of that?!" But all I can do is take a few photos, maybe try to record a video or two. And feel guilty.

I feel guilty that I'm here on super family vacation and their dad isn't here to build sand castles, fly the kite (which I forgot at home anyway), carry them into the waves, and just do dad stuff with them. 

And I know someday the boys will be off with their dad having the best time ever and I'll be sitting home or at the office wishing I could be there with them. This is part of the package deal of separation and co-parenting. And it sucks. 

And yet, I love that we are all here together playing cards, telling old stories, laughing as the waves pound us and knock us to our knees. It's the best thing ever. Better than I could ask for, even in its imperfection, melancholy, and sense that something important is missing. 

So we have two more days and I'm going to try to keep my head in the here and now. See my beautiful boys as they are, hear them laugh, watch them grow right before my eyes. I'll take a few pictures. But mostly I'm going to try to capture in my heart all that happens that is so special and unique and of the "now". 

We will never be here again. 

11 Lessons from the First (Hardest) Days

Earlier this year my partner and I decided to separate and continue to co-parent our boys, 50/50. That's right- equal parenting in separate houses. The kids spend half the time with me in the "old house" and the other half of the time with their dad in the "new house". 

The past few months have been challenging, to speak euphemistically. Just the logistical changes have been exhausting and confusing. In this list I'll focus (mainly) on the co-parenting aspect of things. In a future post I'll talk about the inner stuff and the kids' stuff.

1. There are many ways to parent. Many of them are "right". My co-parent and I are different people with different parenting styles. There are lots of shared traits and values, but there are also some big differences. Neither way is "right", or rather, they are both "right". Life in Daddy's house is one way and life in Mommy's house is another way. Both ways are good for the kids. 

2. Friendship and respect are essential for a healthy co-parenting relationship. I think they are essential just to do the work of caring for your kids. Without the mutual care and respect, it would be very difficult to ask for help or request a change to the schedule. I don't know how people live in acrimonious co-parenting situations. I would lose it. Separating and co-parenting is difficult even in the most "ideal" circumstances.

3. Ignore what other people think. They do not live your life. Yes, sometimes people give good, thoughtful,caring advice. That stuff you know when you hear it, and you should consider those things. I'm talking about the subtle (and not so subtle) judgements and ignorant or intrusive questions. It's funny how people will feel free to ask me all kinds of things that they never would have asked before. I know its mostly out of love or shock or a need to understand what will never be explained satisfactorily. It's not my job to explain my life to anyone. To quote the great poet Jay Z, "Either love me or leave me alone".

4. People react to the news of a separation in a few different ways: fear, shock, and pity. The pity makes me want to rip out eyeballs and shove them down the sewer. Don't pity me. Project on somebody else, please. The fear is interesting because its almost as if the break-up is contagious. You can see the thoughts cross their faces: "If they can split up and everything seemed good between them....well, is it going to happen to me?!" I say this because I have had these same thoughts. It's human. No, it isn't contagious as far as I can see.

5. Protect your children from the adult issues/concerns. Those details will only confuse and scare them. Just tell them the facts and let them make some decisions/choices. Don't over-explain. Kids don't understand what adult romantic relationships/marriages are about. So don't put that stuff on them. They care about Mommy and Daddy, playing with their friends, and their toys. Trust me, that's about it.

6. Family time is essential. Doing things as a foursome on a regular basis has helped us all so much with the transition. This might not work well for other situations, but if you can stand to be in the same room/car/park as your ex, well then plan some family time for this month. I think it helps the kids and adults know that we are still all in this together. We will always be a family.

7. People will judge and offer advice. Let them. Then refer to #3. Seriously, let people say whatever it is they want to say (within limits). I find it is easier to listen to them or at least just bear it. They will get it out; you can then move on to other things. People don't actually expect you to do what they think you should do, they just want to get all their 'You should's' out. And on occasion, you just might get something worth considering. 

8. Honesty. Openness. Communication. Without the ability to be honest about my feelings, needs and wants this separation would be awful. I can tell my co-parent (former partner? What do we call each other now?) that I'm feeling sad or worried about the kids or that I need him to get his damn stuff out of my house (really, I mean it.). We have had some of the best communication over the last few months, better than the bulk of our ten years together. You can probably hazard some guesses why. I'm not going to here. 

9. Keep an open heart and mind. Love doesn't just disappear. Anger and hatred are not inevitable. Don't get dragged down by the petty stuff. It's all petty stuff. 

10. Focus on the big picture. Don't get caught up in the spreadsheet of life of who owes what to whom. Be brave enough to be generous and open. Keep your eye on the prize of healthy, happy, loving children. Everything else is just details and noise.

11. Growth comes through struggle. Being your own woman is liberating. Seriously. As much as all of this has been terrifying and heart-breaking; it has been equally freeing and strengthening. This separation might be the best thing for us all in the end. I really believe it is. 

'Being Here Now' with kids

I am awful at being present with my kids. I admit it. It's the one thing I carry Mommy Guilt about. There's always something else to do, think about, listen to, clean. And then sometimes I just don't want to talk about Hello Kitty or how fast that Matchbox car just went.

Bad Mommy.

So in an effort to improve myself, I have as a part of my Nerd Fitness 6 Week Challenge Missions - Be Present with My Boys.

But what the hell does that really mean?

I have NO clue.

I want to sit on the floor and play Thomas the Tank Engine board games with them. Well, I want to want to do it. But I don't want to do it. Not most of the time. It's really a stupid game with no point. I know, Bad Mommy.

But I think (I hope) being present is more than actually playing on the floor with them or listening to their inane chatter about what T.J. did at daycare.

It's honoring their little spirits and seeing who they truly are. It's being Mama Namaste. My light will honor the light in them, in all their loud, dirty, annoying, clever, silly, amazing-ness.

It's accepting their hugs and their criticism, as both being valid and true.

It's measuring my tone and remembering that how you say it means more than what you say. It means not calling their toys, games and tv shows "stupid". I know, I'm a 12 year old.

It's dance parties, ice cream for dinner, rainy walks, pillow fights, frog catching, stone throwing, and paper airplane making. It's all the things.

It's not being perfect. I know that I'll never be perfect. I don't even want to be perfect. I'm too lazy and selfish for all that. But I do want to KNOW my children. KNOW their little souls, their big dreams, their deepest fears. Right now, I don't think they always like me and I don't really like me either. No matter what is going in in my life/head/heart, I am still their Mommy. That never changes. It's the greatest gift and the most burdensome burden. It scares the shit out of me, to be the mother of these amazing creatures. They have no idea what a jerk I can be. Ok, yeah they TOTALLY know what a jerk I can be. I think I might be the jerkiest to them. Oh man, that stings.

But how do I become more present with these boys? How do I shut down my monkey mama mind and just be with them, see them, hear them?

I don't know. But I'm hoping a regular yoga and mindfulness practice will help me. I'm hoping that this is a habit I can build, one day at a time. It's either this or I'm paying for a whole lot of therapy later.

Keep On Keeping On

Sometimes the biggest lessons are taught in the smallest ways.

My six year old rode his bike (still with training wheels) to the library and back on Saturday, for a total of about 2.5 miles. He was so proud and excited to ride in the street like a big kid. He did great until we met the first real hill on the return trip. He immediately asked for help and wanted me to push him up the hill. I couldn't push him, I was pushing his brother in the jogging stroller. But I offered to put my hand on his back, to help him from going backwards. And so he struggled up that little steep hill and over the bridge. All the while I was telling him,  'You can do it! You are doing it! You're almost there!' The smile on his face was heart-growingly awesome.

And then the next hill came. He wanted to give up, started to whine. I told him he was not allowed to stop, that he must pedal that bike up the hill one way or another. Again, I put my hand on his back and encouraged him like before. And then I remembered something I had just read - people often quit something right before they would have finished/succeeded.  The hardest part is usually the part right before we make it/finish/win. So I told him that lesson. And kept encouraging him. He didn't give up. He kept going.

And we did the same for the next hill.

As we cruised toward the driveway, I asked him if he was proud of all the hill climbing he did.

He said, "But I only climbed three."

"But you rode over 2 miles AND climbed three big hills."

"Yeah, I did." (BIG SMILE)

"I'm so proud of you for not giving up. Now you know that you can do it and next time it will be easier. Everytime will get easier. You know how mommy likes to run?  well, when I started running it was really hard to run for even 1 mile, but eventually I could run 10 miles and still be smiling when I was done. The same will happen for you, for anything you want to do. But you have to keep going. Never give up."

"Ok, Mommy. What are we going to do now?"
*******************

I share this story because I believe that instilling determination and confidence in our kids is one of the very most important things we can do for them. They have to believe they can do ANYTHING. My mom taught me that. I believed her, still do.

As we say in our house:

"The person who says I CAN'T is right, but so is the person who says I CAN."

Lest ye be judged

I like to say that I don't judge other mothers, but I do all the time. I judge mothers for what they wear, what they feed their kids, what time their kids go to bed, where their kids go to school, how often they swear, if they give their kids soda....the list would take all of Mothers Day to type.

I say this not as purely confessional 'I'm such a bad lady - look how cool I am, how edgy' (although let's be honest, that's in there too).  Really its about calling bullshit on all of us who say we don't judge other mothers, because we do.  Now, we might not scream in their faces or kick them out of the book club, but we do make sly and subtle comments.  We do roll our eyes.  We do run home to our partners or call up a girlfriend and say, 'Can you believe she did that? I would never do that!'

Most of the time, we don't actually think the other woman is a bad mother; we just want to feel superior about our own choices; be that organic milk or a strict 7:30 bedtime. And that's the part we should own.

We are so scared to fuck up this most important job, that we live in fear of 'doing the wrong thing'*. So we are vigilant in trying to pick out other mothers 'doing the wrong thing' so we can feel better.  We feel better because we see someone else scream at their 4 year old or wear sweatpants to the grocery store.  We also feel better because we know we aren't alone in our errors, our clumsy love, our eternal fear. Our judgment is actually just a sigh of relief that in this moment we aren't the ones screwing up.  In that moment we are in control, totally making all the right choices.

Maybe you don't agree with me.  Maybe you never think about how other mothers mother.  Maybe you are more zen than I can ever dream of being. If so, don't judge me for my small, petty ways. These moments of superiority are fleeting and often have a bite of 'you are so small and hypocritical' at the end.

I guess we can find some comfort in the fact that we are never so cruel and unforgiving as we are with ourselves. You know, if being self-hating, unforgiving, and a horrible person is comforting. If so, I feel sorry for your kids. But I'm not judging...


* Let's not let the real bad guys off the hook here - the motherhood fear-mongers.  Those in society and in the media who live to make us scared, to tell us the millions of ways our kids can be harmed.  They like to point out all the ways we can make big, never-to-be-corrected mistakes.  They like to point out that if we aren't forever vigilant our kids could be obese or unpopular or kidnapped or living in our basements for the rest of their lives. These meanies are actually just trying to distract us from focusing our energies on the big problems and holding the right people accountable for how unfriendly this country is for families and mothers.  But I'm not going to get on that soapbox today. It's Mothers Day after all and I'm in need of a rest.

It really is the little things, folks

On a whim a few months ago I bought two I Like Books, because they were 50% off and cute. I can't pass up a bargain or the chance to feel like a good mom. The I Like Books are for parents to document a daily "like" about their kid. I like your big smile. I like that you are a good friend to your brother. I like that you only were in time out once today. Whatever it is. There are two spaces for everyday of the year - one for Mom and one for Dad (or however you break it down in your family).

So the books sat in the junk cabinet for the last 3 months until the other day I remembered them.  I got them out and left them on the dining room table so I couldn't forget to talk to the boy about them. The next day, O sees the books and asks me about them. I told him that it was a special book for Mommy and Daddy to write things we like about him.  Instantly his face lit up and he asked me what I had written in there.  I hadn't, so I asked him for a pencil.  He eagerly complied (a small miracle of its own) and stood at my shoulder while I wrote "I like going sledding with you. You are silly and brave." O asked me to read it to him and once I did, he was beaming.  The next thing out of his mouth: "Where's Benjamin's book?  What do you like about him?" And so our journey began. 

For the last few days at bedtime my partner and/or I record the day's likes in the books. We can't forget because O reminds us. He sits on his bed in his space pjs, glowing with pride and excitement.We get big hugs at lights out and everyone ends the day with smiles and a reminder of why we are in this crazy mess of a family.  Because we love each other.

It is so easy to focus on the mess, the screaming, the fights, and the missed opportunities of life with kids. We have to remind ourselves why we do it.  It surely ain't for the fame or the glory.  We do it because our kids are amazing creatures full of energy, curiosity, love and spirit. We do it because of love.

The I Like Books are a wonderful tool to remind us of the love.  But they are also a great way to chronicle the days, weeks and years that go by oh so fast.

Be Careful What You Wish For

Three weeks ago I had an idea that was prompted by our family's experience cooking dinner for the men at a local shelter: I was going to collect backpacks, toiletries, clothing, blankets, gloves and hats; and whatever else I could get my hands on to make some care packages for the 30 men. When I decided this I had no idea if it was going to be possible.

I had no idea what would become of this idea, because I have BIG IDEAS all the time that end up as nothing more than the thought that lingers in my head as I drift off to sleep or the "wouldn't it be cool if" I say to my partner while we drive to Target. I'm big on ideas and small on stick-to-it-ness, most of the time.  But then I get those ideas that nag and nag at me.  Ideas that must come from my soul and will not rest until they are reality. Like going to grad school.  Like having my babies.  Like moving back to Philly...

and then I started asking everyone I know on Facebook, Twitter, email, at work, at my boy's school, through the family grapevine, in public meetings, etc. I started an online sign-up in the naive hope that people would be clambering to help and I would need help organizing all the donations. Well, three weeks later the results are in:

 

This pile doesn't even count the donations being sent in from Maine and Georgia (bless my mother and my college pal, Elmer, for their enthusiasm and generosity). 

On Friday, my family will be delivering a chili dinner and 30 backpacks full of essentials to the guests. But the real gift receiver is me.  Through this experience I have learned a lot:

1. People want to help others, they just need help figuring out how to do it.

2. Anything is possible, you have to believe it and then do it.

3. The best way to teach your children a lesson or value is to live it, be it.

4. The act of giving is a gift of its own.

5. I have a community of loving and helpful souls all around me - in real life, online and throughout the country.

6. It is easy to do a good thing.The universe will always help the good thing to manifest.

7. You don't need religion or a belief in god/s to have faith. Faith is essential to a happy life.

So a great big THANK YOU to all the people who have helped make this project of mine a reality.  Thank you for the lessons above.  

Merry Christmas!

Make Love A Verb

Last night my family cooked dinner at  the Student-Run Emergency Housing Unit of Philadelphia.  The shelter is staffed by local college students who volunteer their time.  There are 36 guests at the shelter from November to April. A friend of ours is the faculty adviser for the project and she had put the call out for volunteers. So I had signed up for dinner last night and several of my co-workers agreed to help us with the purchasing and preparation of the food.

In the end, it ended up too many cooks, so a few people did the bulk of the work.  But that was fine, it wouldn't have worked otherwise. Plus, other people helped occupy my kids (bonus!).  My partner threw himself into making two giant lasagnas and I helped here and there by chopping vegetables and trying to locate utensils.  The wonderful parts had nothing to do with the food, although it was nice to see people enjoy food you had prepared (or at least purchased). 

I really enjoyed my kids interacting with the guests, especially little B playing catch with one man who just smiled and chuckled the whole time.  Several of the guests chatted with me about my boys, who were running all about the room throwing paper airplanes and coloring with crayons on the floor.  Having the kids there helped relax us all into being friendly and comfortable with each other.  Who doesn't love to see kids laughing and playing?!

This experience really came to be because my partner and I have been talking about finding ways to "live our values" and teaching our boys about giving to others. So when the opportunity presented itself I knew it was the right thing.  We got to do something concrete to help others and our kids could see us do it.  No preaching, no nonsense. Our boys also got to see the real people behind the label "homeless".  And so did we.

We are going back again on December 23rd, this time with my parents and brother with the two boys.  I want to share this experience with my family.  I want to try to spark in them the thing that has come alive inside me.  Now I want to help more.  I want to keep cooking dinners and looking for ways to raise donations, material and monetary.  My next project is goody/gift bags for the holidays.  I am going to try to collect as much as I can for the guests to get a little something special over the holidays.  I want them to feel cared for and loved.

But the thing I will take away from this more than all of that, is I love my partner more than ever.  Seeing him put his heart into cooking for strangers and being so gracious when he was thanked for cooking a great meal...well, it melted my heart a little more and made him six inches taller in my eyes. Giving as a couple or as a family can only strength the bonds.  So I hope this is our new holiday tradition. A way to honor our true values and share our good fortune.

A way to make love a verb.

Reflections of a Grumpy Mother

Today I ended up putting a big shit pile on top of a day that deserved whipped cream and a cherry.  The day was an average day home with my boys: cleaning, working, trip to the library, crafts, laundry, dinner and bed time routine. It ended with me saying stupid and mean things, or at least in a mean tones to my four year old; like I would talk to his father when I was particularly annoyed or pissed off.  Not a proud moment.  It's all my fault, although I tried to blame it on the boy for being a little boy.  I was annoyed and tired, so I took it out on a little kid.  And then I took it out on a baby who's hot, teething and overtired.  Mind you, I was a lot more gentle with a baby, because who yells at a baby?!  But I still had the bad attitude and was less than motherly.

Why was I such a jerk?  Because I was feeling bad for myself because I was doing bedtime all on my own.  Usually my partner takes on the bedtime book reading, etc. for the boy and I mostly handle baby-related things since I nurse him down.  So tonight I had to do both and that made me mad. I resented having to care for my kids.  What the hell is wrong with me?!

So what's the deal?  It's not a slacker partner.  We are pretty close to 50-50, most of the time.  It's not that I don't get time to do my own things.  I get time off to study/write, to have dinner or drinks with friends, to go for a run, to have a quiet house for 30 minutes, etc.  I am loved and well cared for.  I seriously have no complaints.  At least no conscious ones.

So I am still trying to figure out the source of my resentment.  I don't know what it is but I am feeling disgruntled.  Maybe I'm under-sexed.  Maybe I'm hormonal and about to get my period back after 19 months without.  Maybe I'm feeling a little sad that grad school is over and full time employment looms.  Maybe I'm sad my little boy is turning into a big boy. Maybe I miss having time with my partner that is not kid-related.  Maybe I need a good girl talk session.  Maybe I'm in a rut.  Maybe I should have exercised today.  Maybe I misplaced my inherent cheerful and optimistic attitude. Maybe it's just a bad day.

But I am seriously feeling like a shithead.  So now I'm beating myself up for being a human who has emotions and makes mistakes.  I am so grateful not to be a single parent.  I would be a terrible single mom.  I need a buddy, a tag team partner and a referee/coach.  I make mistakes and raise my voice and over-react.  I need someone who is as vested in this family as I am, who can tell me I'm being an asshole or unreasonable.  I need that. 

I know some women like to be the 'head parent' and tell their co-parents/husbands/partners what to do and never want to relinquish control.  I am not that girl.  I'm the girl who will blog about failure and be grateful for insight and self-reflection.  I'm the girl who cares enough to hold tight to the hope that tomorrow is another day.  Tomorrow I might just get it right.

Right now I'm pouring myself a drink. 

How do you do it?

Ridiculous, yet awesome tattoo weirdworm.com

At least once a week someone makes a comment like 'I don't know how you do it' or 'I couldn't do all that you do'.  They are commenting on the fact that I work part time, parent two children (a 4 yr old and a 5 mo old), go to grad school part time, keep up with a regular exercise routine and whatever else they think I do with my time.  I am not saying this to be boastful, quite the opposite.  I think I'm pretty average.  I know women who run their own businesses and raise a family.  I know women who have special needs children and work full time. I know women who care for an elder, parent their own children, work full time and volunteer regularly. Millions of women do much more than I do.  Many of them without a supportive partner.

So in the interest of full disclosure here are some things I don't do:

• Keep up on popular culture (I only recently figured out who this Justin Bieber character is)
• Watch much television (I have a few special programs)
• Iron clothes
• Get manicures/pedicures/waxing or even regular haircuts
• Talk on the phone with my friends and family (except my mom)
• Go to the mall
• Entertain friends and family
• Keep up with Oprah
• Go on date nights with my partner (wish we did more than a couple times a year)
• Gossip (about real people or celebrities, except maybe Project Runway-related gossip)
• Read magazines or newspapers (except NYT and the New Yorker on occasion)
• Volunteer
• Keep a tidy house
• Remember to feed the cats
• Stay up past 10pm
• Gardening, even though I have a garden
• Wash the car

You get the idea.  It's all a matter of how you choose to spend your time.  I remember reading once that how you spend your time shows your true priorities.  So in that case here are my priorities:

1. Children and partner

2. Interests, including exercise, internet, reading, television, crafts

3. Employment

4. Social network (friends and family)

5. Schoolwork

6. Housekeeping

I realized the other day that having your priorities straight doesn't mean having them written in stone.  From one day to the next my priorities shift.  Some days the goal is to write a paper.  Some days the goal is to clean the bathrooms.  Some days the goal is to survive the day without tears or shouting.  Every day is its own adventure with its own challenges and rewards.

So how do I do it?  I get up in the morning and do what needs doing.  Just like all the other super and not-feeling-so-super moms out there.  How do you do it?

What do we teach our kids about poverty?

Despite how stretched or stressed your financial life, if you are reading this you are pretty damn lucky.  You are not one of the billion plus people (women, children, elders, men) living in extreme poverty.  Extreme poverty doesn't mean that you can't afford your rent, it means you might not have a roof.  Extreme poverty doesn't mean you can't afford your grocery bill, it means you might eat one meal today.  Extreme poverty means your children don't go to school, don't have access to clean drinking water and are malnourished and unhealthy.  Extreme poverty means that you don't have access to health care or medicines, however basic or inexpensive.  Extreme poverty means your children die from diseases that children in other places get vaccinated against or are never exposed to.  Extreme poverty means a hard life and early death.

One billion people.  One-sixth of the whole world.  That's 1,000,000,000 people.  How do we talk to our kids about this difficult subject?

Our 4 ear old goes to a Quaker preschool, so at school they discuss social justice issues and service to one's community, in ways little people can understand.  I talk to my son about how some people don't have clean water to drink or a warm bed to sleep in, and that it is our job as fellow humans to try to help others however we can. And I guess the talking has paid off.  For Halloween, the boy's school sent home little UNICEF collection boxes to take trick-or-treating.  We didn't take the box trick-or-treating because there was just too much going on at the time.  But we planned on putting the change in our cars in the box, , taking it to work, etc.  When our son returned from collecting all his candy, we told him he could trade in candy for cash or prizes.  He chose cash and received $5 for about 3/4 of his candy.  I told him he could put it in his piggy bank or put it in the UNICEF box, he chose the UNICEF box.  He said, "I want kids to have safe water to drink."  I choked back tears.  I am still beaming with pride.

So my lesson is that it is important to talk to our kids about the scary real world, in order to help them cultivate compassion and understanding.  I don't want my white middle class American boys to think that everyone lives like them and has the same privilege.  The vast majority of humanity does not.  Four isn't too young to understand this.  It's the perfect age to start a life of compassion and service.

Why are formula companies sponsoring breastfeeding guides?

No matter what your personal opinion or experience with infant feeding, you have to admit that it is a little suspect to have Nestle providing breastfeeding support information/guides.  Nestle makes money off of every mother who uses formula to feed her baby.  They make zero dollars (or very little) for every mother who breastfeeds. It is in the corporation's best interest to give incomplete or misleading information regarding breastfeeding.  It is also in their best interest to appear to be supportive of breastfeeding mothers, for PR reasons, as well as because mom will be likely to supplement with or switch to whatever brand formula "helped" her when she was trying to breastfeed.

It is a scientific fact that if a baby receives formula in the first day of life, then the chances of he/she receiving breastmilk are greatly reduced.  It is also a fact that if a mother has some formula on hand while she is trying to establish breastfeeding, she will be more likely to supplement with formula and eventually formula-feed full time.  Why else do you think there are formula-sponsored gift bags at many hospitals?  Why do you think you see all kinds of formula ads in pregnancy magazines and on websites?!
 
Mothers are in a vulnerable position when they run into one of the many challenges of breastfeeding.  It's a great time for a corporation to lead her to offer a bottle of formula to get some sleep or give some time off for a sore nipple or to give her time to pump to boost her supply (all bad advice).  And so without even realizing it, a woman is being manipulated to fail, to get to the place where her supply is too low or the damage so great that she cannot bear to think about pursuing breastfeeding any longer. 

This is another example of how corporations try to manipulate mothers by playing on our vulnerabilities, fears and desires to give our kids the very best.  Why else would we buy shopping cart seat covers, GPS trackers for our kids, and Baby Einstein videos?!  We don't need these things and if we were not bombarded with the 1000 ways our kids were in danger of being kidnapped, getting sick, and falling behind, we would have time to think things through and analyze the advice we consume.  But so many of us are over-worked and too tired and harried to even begin to think about it.  We go with what we are told to trust, what we think we can trust.  And unfortunately there are corporations there waiting to quiet our fears while lining their pockets.

There are great places to get breastfeeding advice online.  Kellymom is one of the best and most trusted.

Mother's for Women's Lib - Feminist Parenting Carnival

A little tardy, but I wanted to share the awesomeness that is included in the carnival (including my own It's a Boy post).  I am sure that anyone who reads this blog will be sure to find something of interest there. 

It's heartening for me to read posts by other women thinking about some of the issues I struggle with and offering their own insights.  So often I feel isolated and lonely in my head.  Like I am on the lookout for ways mamas get screwed over, but then I read a facebook status message from a mama friend who reports she didn't get the job because the asshole who interviewed her was concerned about her commute and her two small kids.  This mama is a single mama, sole provider for her kids. So yeah, it isn't just my paranoia. 

Here we go again

So I went and had another baby.

My son, B., was born by c-section on June 9th.  Maybe someday I'll write about his birth but not today.
Today's post is about breastfeeding since it is the start of International Breastfeeding Week. I want to discuss breastfeeding in front of other people. This has been a hot topic in breastfeeding circles lately - well it always is.  Recently there have been stories in the news about women being harassed about nursing in public places.

I have breastfed two babies.  My older son weaned at about 18 months and Baby B. will hopefully nurse for at least a year.  I am a moderate lactivist.  I fully support and encourage women to breastfeed and believe it to be the best food for babies and older children too.  But I don't think there is one way to be a nursing mother, no perfect amount of feedings or months; just the right amount that works for the family.  There are many women for whom breastfeeding is all but impossible because of lack of social, financial, and/or emotional support.  If you stack lack of information on top of those barriers, well its no wonder we have the poor breastfeeding rates we do in the U.S.  I do believe that some women (I don't know how many) cop out and don't even try to breastfeed for various superficial reasons.  I also believe that lots of women try to breastfeed and fail because the public health and healthcare systems let them down and they don't have the peer models to offer them informal guidance and support.  But this wasn't really my point, was it?!  I could write pages about the lack of breastfeeding support.

Public breastfeeding.  It is controversial for so many reasons....none of which I buy.  Breasts are made to feed babies.  Period, end of sentence.  Our culture sexualizes and objectifies the breast to the point that we view the most natural, beautiful and nurturing act as something dirty or weird that should be hidden from view.  No matter what formula manufacturers claim, feeding formula to babies puts them at risk for all manners of health problems, chronic conditions, and intellectual disadvantages (diabetes, obesity, middle ear infections, respiratory infections, to name a few).  I am not going to list the myriad health benefits of breastfeeding, because I think most people intellectually understand that breastmilk is the best food and offers so many protections to babies. 

So what gives?  Why is breastfeeding a natural part of public life in other countries and cultures?  Why are we so backwards?

We believe that a factory can make a superior food to our own bodies.  We believe that we can't demand that our workplaces give us time and space to pump or on-site daycare so we can breastfeed our child on demand (although the health care reform will change some workplaces for the better).  We believe we shouldn't ask for extended paid maternity leaves like most of the other developed countries provide for their families.  We believe our breasts are something to hide or only show off for the male gaze and approval.  We have lost touch with our own bodies to the point that we forget that we are the lifegivers, the nurturers, the milk makers.

I believe breastfeeding to be an important feminist issue.  We need to reclaim our breasts for ourselves and our children. We need to fight for all our sisters to be able to feed their children, no matter her income or social status.  We need to nurse in public, whenever and wherever.  In order to remove taboo, we have to do the taboo thing.

And so with all of this in my mind and heart I find myself being overly self-conscious about breastfeeding in public places.  I bring blankets to cover up and try to sit in corners or turn away from the action.  I feel embarrassed at times, but always nurse my son when he needs it. I refuse to hide in my car or bring a bottle. I am stuck in this place of knowing I have every right to breastfeed my son wherever I am and yet fearing the disapproving stare or the harsh comment.  And yet I have never had a negative experience nursing in public.

So where does all this come from?!  I don't know.  I guess I have more self-love and womanly empowerment to do.  But in the meantime, I will nurse in public even if it is behind a blanket or with my face a little red, because I believe that often doing the right thing requires some uncomfortable confrontation with our own hang ups and shortcomings. The journey to a truly empowered and actualized woman requires heaping bushels of self-examination.  Sometimes it also requires nudity, and not always the fun kind.

Book Review: Partnership Parenting

Kyle and Marsha Pruett (he an MD, she a PhD in social work) offer practical advice, tips, and insight to help parents be effective partners in raising happy and healthy children.  Central to the success of a two parent family is the respect and cooperation shared by the parents. The subtitles:  How Men and Women Parent Differently - Why It Helps Your Kids and Can Strengthen Your Marriage really sums up the whole premise of the book.

The book is divided into two parts. The first section reviews the many ways that men and women differ in  terms of how we parent and why these differences exist. But the authors also emphasis that some of the differences between parenting styles have as much to do with personality as they do gender or sex.  This section also offers advice on how to build and maintain a healthy, respectful relationship, even through times when you are annoyed with your partner or disagree about how he or she handled a situation.  I particularly like the questionnaire for moms to evaluate the ways we may act as a gatekeeper in the family, acting like the leader or expert of the family that gives Dad assignments, instructions, and criticism.  The last chapter in this section reviews what we think we know about child development and age appropriate behavior and what the realities are. 

The second section of the book devotes a chapter to the different kinds of parenting decisions and challenges faced by most families at one time or another: discipline, care and feeding, co-parenting and sleeping with children, safety, and education.  Each of these chapters follows a typical progression in issues and highlights some really common problems and approaches.  The last chapter of the book is entitled Divorce Prevention and the advice given is really priceless and will go a long way to help preserve peace and successful family life. 

The appendices include two questionnaires.  The first questionnaire is designed for each partner to answer concerning their values, feelings and beliefs about parenting decisions and challenges.  The questions offer a great starting point for further discussion and planning for co-parents.  The author suggests that couples work through these kinds of discussions as early as possible, preferably before pregnancy.  The second set of questions are about child development and milestones.

So what did I think about this book?  Well, overall I believe it was well-written and well-balanced; no particular point of view or gendered approach was favored.  Moms and dads were equally held accountable and praised.  To be honest, the book wasn't as helpful to our family as I was hoping, because we generally operate from a partnership model in our parenting roles.  I am not saying that everything is 50-50, but we do each take responsibility for caring for our son, as well as the fun stuff.  I do like that the authors repeatedly stated that co-parents should not keep tally on who did what or who's turn it is to cook dinner, do the laundry, drive carpool, etc.  They encouraged couples to work together, support one another, and recognize each parent's strengths and weaknesses.  The real life examples from a few different families were also helpful in illustrating how men and women approach parenting differently, both in how we see situations and the solutions we devise.  

One of my personal pet peeves about the book is that some of the comments seemed anti-attachment parenting, in particular on the issue of co-sleeping.  But that might be my own bias.  But overall, I feel like the authors do not espouse any one parenting philosophy.  It is worth the time and energy to read, especially if you and your partner find it difficult to come to consensus on family decisions.  But really, any and all families could benefit from the advice shared and the introspection encouraged by the authors. I know I have.

Blame and Parenting

Parents (particularly mothers) get blamed for so much.  If our kids are overweight, we feed them the wrong foods or let them watch too much TV.  If our kids misbehave, we let them rule our house.  If they don't do well in school, we don't invest enough in their education or development.  If they aren't perfectly healthy, then we must have done something while we were pregnant to cause the problem. 

And for this reason I wanted to share this short piece from Psychology Today that quotes one of my intellectual crushes, Michael Yudell, a leading public health historian, on the sources of blame for the causes of autism.  Of particular interest to me was the assertion that mothers starting receiving the blame for all that was wrong with their children at about the same time as all the men were returning from WWII.  Society wanted to get those women back in their houses and out of the workplace, and start producing more babies, citizens, consumers.

I believe the worst aspect of blaming the mothers comes from mothers ourselves.  Whether we are blaming ourselves for not being green enough, or working outside the home too much or giving in to demands for cookies or whatever it is....or we blame other mothers for their "bad choices" or lack of willpower or ignorance or their poverty..... Blame and guilt are everywhere. How do we escape it?  Can we escape it?

In regards to the causes of autism, there is a large groundbreaking study starting now, EARLI Study which is examining  possible early causes of autism by studying families with one child who is diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder and expecting another child. Hopefully this study will help us understand how genetics and environment interact to cause or predispose a child to autism.