Curve Ball Baby

My third baby is throwing me for a loop.  Daily.  As soon as I think I have her figured out, BAM, she switches it up.  I recently wrote about life with three children, and basically concluded that it was easier for me to transition from 2 to 3 children than from 1 to 2, but that having a tiny baby in the house (whether first or seventh) is still crazy hard at times.  I still think that's all true for me.  The balancing act is a little more fine-tuned these days, but it's basically the same balancing act that I developed when we added our second child so a lot of the work this time around was just in implementation rather than strategy.  However, I am here to say that Hazel is officially my hardest baby to date.  Yes, she even beats out Princess with her reflux and inconsolable daytime crying resulting from (what I had no idea at the time was) discomfort that likely caused.  And Smooch's late night, often very drawn out, "witching hour" (or three) has nothing on this kid.   It's very strange to say that Hazel is my hardest because she has (by far) the most settled stomach of all my kids, so that's a non-issue, and she outgrew her short evening witching hour very quickly (by about 7 weeks I'd say).  She sleeps pretty good for her age (4 hours plus 3 hours on average).  There are no major things that make her hard.  It's just this one little thing...

She's not particularly flexible.   And that adds up to a lot of little things.

Pacifier for soothing between feedings?  HA!  Not a chance.  Occasionally she chews on it so it momentarily distracts her.  However, it does not soothe her.  The girl wants skin.  Breast or some part of the human hand thankyouverymuch.   My saving grace is that she has recently been finding her own fist once in a while.

Bottle for pumped milk?  Nope!  No breaks for mommy.  And I'm not about to go out and buy ten different kinds of bottles to try.  We've been down that road with the pacifier already.

Car seat?  Hmm.  We recently learned that she does okay on long drives because once she's out she'll sleep until she's hungry.   However, around town, she's awake and screaming at every red light, often for the whole car ride since 15 minutes isn't long enough for her to settle into a nap.  As she has started to get a little bit older (She turned 2 months last week), she's beginning to have some quiet awake time in the car...if she's in the mood for it.  Typically though car rides = incessant screaming.

Naps?  In Mommy's arms.  Occasionally she'll sleep in the swing, and usually once a day I can get her to take a nap in the bassinet.  (Thankfully at night she will sleep the first chunk of her nighttime sleep in the bassinet, then it's snuggled up with mommy for part two.)  Baby wearing can only go so far during the day, and my back thanks me for a break.   We made great strides in this (no, I did not do "cry it out") so that she was beginning to nap pretty good without being held, but when she got RSV at about 5 weeks old, she wanted to be in my arms 24/7 and I was most comfortable with that as well so I could make sure she was, you know, breathing.  Now we're starting all over getting her used to napping once in awhile without me.  She's doing well, but she sometimes makes me wonder if she would actually like to crawl back into my womb rather than be out of my arms for 5 minutes.

Each week I'm dumb optimistic enough to try another solo outing.   Each week I come home feeling defeated, frazzled, depleted of energy, and frustrated.  Today I forgot to bring my Moby Wrap to the grocery store and I paid for it.  If I had toted Hazel around in the wrap, she probably would have been fine.  But no, I had to leave her in the car seat and clip it onto the shopping cart.  Amazingly, she had fallen asleep in the car and was so tired from fighting sleep while out and about all morning that she actually stayed asleep for a full 10 or 15 minutes at the store.   Miracle of miracles.

I must have looked like a joke racing around the store like my very life depended upon gathering all the apples and eggs I could in the shortest amount of time possible.  I was too focused to even notice whether or not other shoppers were giving me the strange looks I am quickly coming to know well.  Pity?  Disgust? Amusement?  Some of each a suppose.  If so, I was ignorant to it.  Princess and Smooch were mostly angels.  (I bribed them with snacks and the promise of a lollipop in the car.)

Then it happened.  Hazel woke up with all the wrath of an angry lion in her high-pitched "get me out of this car seat before I die" scream.  The one that causes random people to kindly suggest to me that my baby is perhaps hungry.

If I had a quarter for every time I have tried to explain to a perfect stranger that my baby has just recently eaten and is in fact just protesting the running of errands....

It's a wonder I take her anywhere by myself.

However, last night my husband and I dragged our entire entourage to Starbucks' and Hazel was happy the entire time, minus the drive.  My husband was there to help, and that makes a difference.  But the biggest difference is that, upon arrival, she was plopped into one of our laps and perched in one lap or another for our entire stay.  And therein lies the key to Hazel's happiness.

You see, she isn't an unhappy baby.  At home she grins and coos like a very sociable, contented, dreamy thing.  She really isn't a particularly fussy baby either.  (But don't touch her with cold hands.) And we don't hold her 100% of the time.  Just 90%.  ;-)  (Which is a vast improvement from 99%.)  She's even spending some time on her tummy on a play mat and other things.  Sometimes for a whole 10 minutes at once!  Yes, I'm making fun, but it is just unreal to me how much she demands to be held.  And how loudly she demands it.  And when we go out, particularly me by myself with the kids, we can't always hold her or wear her the whole time.

In retrospect, both Princess and Smooch showed very clear signs of their temperaments from birth.  Certainly, there were strong clues by two months of age.  So what I'm saying is that I may look back on this and think "Wow.  Hazel was kind of a demanding baby.  I'm glad she outgrew some of those things."  OR I will look back and wish I would have picked up on the hints that perhaps maybe the Lord saw fit to give us a touchy, demanding sort of child to raise.   Time will tell.

One thing is for sure, she is just as precious and brings us just as much joy as her sisters before her.  I can't wait to see who she becomes, as each facet of her personality blooms almost as quickly as she grows.  She may not be the most easygoing baby I've had, but I sure love her just as much as the more laid back ones. 

  (Pics taken Feb. 25th, from my trusty old phone. :-))

When You Want to Lock Yourself in the Bathroom

Today has been one of those days that make you want to lock yourself in the bathroom...if only to get three short minutes to yourself.  (Actually yesterday was sort of like that too.)  I have to remind myself on days like today (and yesterday), that I'm probably a little extra tired, not to mention hormonal, and that it's okay to take a quick breather.  For the love of all mental sanity, take a quick breather, Amelia.

However, I didn't take a breather.  Nope.  It was far more important to prepare my items for the post office.  Envelopes, boxes, tape and labels are challenging to juggle with a whining 1 1/2-year-old literally hanging from your left leg.  Then there was the dire need to empty the SUV of donation items, and since the donation center is just down the road from the post office, two separate trips seemed unthinkable. 

Princess wants ribbon.  Smooch wants you to constantly unbuckle the high chair buckles so she can buckle over and over and over and...  No wait, Smooch wants to sit in the high chair.  Princess begins to dig through your sacred craft supplies for her own ribbon.  Smooch wants down from the high chair.  Yesterday.  Print label for return item.  Remember the internet doesn't work in the room with the printer.  "Mommy when can we do more school?"  Then the onslaught of crying and whining.  Why?  Because heaven forbid Mommy has to do something that does not involve the children (or food) for 15 measely minutes.

Finally I just snapped.  I yelled loudly.  Twice.  Tame words (thank goodness), untamed volume.  Wild-eyed, frazzled momma bear ready to eat her cubs.  Or something like that.

And then that face - framed by those fluffy blonde pigtails, sweet blue eyes wide, mouth hanging open - turned up toward me in silent shock.

I didn't even feel better after venting my frustration.  I was still so on edge, that I literally had to do breathing exercises all the way to the post office.

Parent fail #127:  Yelling at babies.  For crying.

Next time that I want to lock myself in the bathroom for a few minutes, I think I will do just that.  

Re-Posted: A Less Noble Perspective on Why Be a SAHM

As I said I would do, I've been going through old posts, changing the real names of my family members to blog nicknames, and double-checking that details like where we live are anonymous.   I'm rather enjoying the somewhat daunting task of going through all my old posts.  It's like reading my old journal. :-) 

I came across this post that I wrote almost exactly one year ago.  It is one of the most "true to the heart" things I have ever written on my blog regarding motherhood.  I hope you enjoy this re-post.  It was a good reminder for myself.

_________________

May 14, 2010

Yesterday I was washing the dishes, staring out the kitchen window feeling a little melancholy that most of our lovely apple blossoms have already made their light descent to the grassy ground beneath.

Then my mind drifted to my two captivating daughters. I feel like the luckiest woman on the planet to be able to stay home and raise them. I've always wanted to be where I am today, so in many ways, I feel like I'm living out my simple dream.

I remember a conversation my husband and I had after we had been dating for a whopping month. It was about kids and family. How we both wanted some. How I desired to raise them myself rather than work outside the home and take them to daycare. How he spent many many hours in daycare and turned out fine. How he didn't know an abundance good, productive stay-at-home moms - ones who didn't become overweight sitting on the couch waching soaps (or so it might seem), so the idea didn't seem entirely attractive to him.

Then something amazing happened. He changed his college major to something that would make a better living and provide stability. Something that would allow us to be an one income family and not be totally strapped. What an act of love! I'm still scratching my head today really.

As I continued my thoughts, I began to ponder why I am a stay-at-home mom. What compelled me to desire this life? What motivates me when I'm feeling worn out? I could say things about molding young minds. I could talk about how no one can love a child as much as his/her mother and how terrible it feel to hand my child off to paid daycare employees while I shuffle off to work. Before the birth of our second daughter, I might have talked of honorable things like spiritual training or the importance of tending the home. I could have easily listed twenty noble reasons why, for me, it is important to stay home and raise the kids. And those things were and are all true.

But now?

Over 2 1/2 years later, we have (mostly) nipped tantrums in the bud, imparted the beginnings of good manners (repetition repetition repetition), spent countless hours learning and implementing good nutrition (which means homemade everything and prepackaged almost nothing), just barely skimmed the surface of spiritual and heart training, and added an infant to the mix to make things interesting. Oh and we get dressed every day and brush our teeth twice a day and wash our hands after...everything. The days are gone so quickly.

Then I find myself in a rare quiet moment wondering what I would say if someone asked me why I do what I do, instead of what it seems most everyone else does. And do you know the best thing I could come up with in this exhausting phase of toddler-plus-infant? In my head, it goes something like this:

All my life I have been decent at lots of different things. I can sing, but I can't read music. I can speak Spanish, but I'm not fluent by any means. I can pass any test I prepare for, but I won't remember any of it later. Those are really silly examples off the top of my head, but you get the idea. I can do so many things, just well enough to get by. It's been my mantra so to speak. I've been a jack of all trades in life, interested in so many things, but not sticking with one thing long enough (or with enough intensity) to become truly great at any one of them. Lacking focus. Driven but...busy. Certainly divided.

I cannot imagine the plight of the working mom because, thankfully, I don't have to walk in those shoes. But I do know the life of a working wife. Did I cook dinner in those days? Hardly. And I have to add here that I have seen several working moms who truly are great both in their jobs and as mom. But mostly I see a lot of women who are in survival mode. And I know myself. I would be in survival mode. I would get home from work too exhausted to parent with consistency. I would give in to tantrums because it would take less energy than resisting. I would stop reminding Princess to use her manners because sometimes I'd just be too tired to care that she's rudely demanding snacks. Don't get me wrong. I would do my best, but my best would be tinged with "unfocused", "busy" and "divided." And my inconsistency would manifest itself in my most precious children. Not to mention my poor husband.

Especially now that I'm outnumbed, I can say that motherhood is seriously hard work. I am far from having it all figured out. Stated bluntly, staying home to raise our children has gone from "childhood dream with the most honorable intentions and goals" to "how in the world would I do all this if I was working full time!?" Sometimes I still find myself in survival mode, but since being mom and wife is my main focus, survival mode shows up on one day (or week) or another, but it isn't my normal way of life. In fact, some days I think it might be nice to drop the kids off with someone else for once and stroll into the office. I've even had my former boss call me more than once with a tempting job offer.

I refuse to be divided. These sweet gifts are not little forever, and for the sake of their future I am determined that I will give my absolute best and become great at this thing called motherhood. Even if it is the only thing I ever focus on long enough to achieve, to me, it is the one that counts the most.

Love Is...Not Fair? Things Nobody Says Out Loud

I've been feeling guilty about something lately:  my personality "clicks" better with Smooch's personality than it does with Princess's.  I try not to let it show.  I am conscious to spend special one-on-one time with both of them, and love (as in love is an action) both of them with equal intentionality.  However, I struggle with gravitating toward Smooch because her personality draws me in such a way that Princess's does not. (Princess and I are quite a bit alike, and it's the opposite parts of Smooch that draw me in.)  I am overtaken with infatuation, and I feel sick over that fact that perhaps Princess can tell the difference.

Please don't misunderstand me.  I love our firstborn dearly and she could never ever be replaced in or crowded out of my heart.  She is absolutely precious and words cannot describe the depth of my love for her.  It's just that I think perhaps "angel babies," the ones that are always happy and seem to never do anything wrong, are just easier to gravitate towards.   Even when they're upset, they bury their face in your shoulder and cry rather that pushing you away because they want space. (Psst..."angel babies" make you feel like gold, and I think that every parent deserves at least one baby like that by the way.)  In fact, just the concept that Smooch is the baby and I happen to love babies more than the average woman seems to love babies, is reason enough to explain my dilemma.  And naturally, she and I have that special "nursing baby and mother" thing going on that seems somewhat mystical in and of itself.  But I know it's more than that and I am putting myself out there, writing it down, saying that the guilt eats at me.   In fact, I have never mentioned it before this moment. 

I am very far from perfect so I know that it is probably detectable with even my best attempts to hide it.  I avoid thinking about it other than to check myself for equal expression of love.  (I check myself often.  I must be conscious of my actions.) Then today, while catching up on some reading, I stumbled across some very raw, honest, helpful blog entries of a mother who happens to relate in this exact struggle.  Since I know I can't be the only one with the "angel baby" dilemma, I am happy to share these insightful entries with my friends.  After all, we're all in this motherhood thing together, aren't we?

First read this post.

Then read this one.

And finally read the third post in the series. 

Anyone brave enough to share some thoughts?

About a Princess

Sweet, beautiful Princess. You're less than four months away from turning three.

You adore princesses, especially Cinderella.

You want everything in life to be happy. I wish I could make everything happy for you, sweetheart.

Once we skip all the "silly parts" and "scary parts," it takes us about 20 minutes to watch an hour and a half long fairytale.

You are prone to nightmares, and have finally began to tell me what your bad dreams are about if you wake up crying. We pray and ask Jesus to protect your mind while you sleep, and we are careful of what we let you see and hear. Still, your own imagination haunts you sometimes. You are coming to understand that dreams are only pretend.

You love to talk. Oh my do you love to talk! It is impossible to me to feel lonely if I must stay close to home much of the day for baby sister's naps. You are such delightful company!

You are full of curious questions. I love to answer them. This week you wanted to know if "jealous" means "not nice." Books teach you lots of words. You know that "Displeased" means "not happy."

Thankfully, you haven't entered into the "Why?" phase yet. ;-)

Your favorite books are "Are You My Mother?", "The Pokey Little Puppy," and "Cinderella." Sometimes we read them over and over and over.

You love to dance and twirl. In fact, the only things you are interested in wearing are dresses, skirts and nightgowns.

You are all girl.

You love to color, read, play with quiet toys, have tea parties, primp, and you don't last very long outside before an insect - usually of the flying variety - chases you back indoors.

I try not to laugh when I hear you role-playing with your dolls and stuffed animals, but it's just too cute! You make up princess stories, or retell ones you know. Sometimes you parent them, giving baths and tucking them in for bed.

You LOVE to sing.

You are usually reserved and take a full 24 hours to truly warm up to most people, though some win you over sooner and others never seem to get there.

You remember everything from year-old memories to a promise I made you yesterday. I am astounded by your ability to remember things.

You are very smart. Your know almost all your letters, many letter sounds and can even rattle off some words that start with certain letters. What makes this amazing to me is that I did not sit down and intentionally teach you these things - you picked them up here and there. You also quote parts of books word-for-word.

You comment on subtle variations in the way people speak or act. Mommy says, "Bless you" while Nan says, "God bless you" when you sneeze.

"Do you want to play with toys with me?" and "Do you need help?" are two questions for Mommy that are always on your lips.

You are shy about praying out loud. You generally hesitate to do something you don't fully understand.

You have been sharing a room with Smooch for two weeks now. You are so wonderful about sharing with her - your toys, favorite blanket, and your space. You are gentle and caring toward her, a parent's dream.

You lie occasionally, mostly about whether you went potty in the toilet or not.

You have been staying dry during naps and at night, so you have been completely diaper-free for two weeks now! During the day, you get so wrapped up in playing that you sometimes wet your pants.

You have a special bond with Daddy and you love to tickle and giggle with him after work each day.

'

You think Daddy is "scratchy." Then again, even my freshly shaved legs don't measure up to your standards and are "scratchy" too.

You love green beans, bananas and all berries. You could live off of bread and cheese. You prefer steamed veggies and grilled chicken to chicken pot pie. In fact, you prefer that your food doesn't touch each other at all.

You are goofy and fun, beautiful and creative. Sweet Princess, I wouldn't change a thing about you.

Photo by Nicole King Photography

Oh Baby

I adore the way you lay your head on my shoulder...even when you're not tired.


It makes me laugh when you pump your legs like a little frog when I carry you in the Moby Wrap or when I change your diaper.

That piercing, happy scream is precious.



My heart melts when you grab my face and pull me in for wet, open-mouthed baby kisses, even when it hurts. Such kisses leave me covered in drool and overflowing with joy.


I think it is so sweet the way to watch your big sister with obvious glee. I can see that you just ache to run around with her. I'm so thrilled that you two will always have each other to play with, fight with, tease and love.



You are pure sunshine. When you laugh, I can't help but to laugh with you. When you smile, you enrapture a crowd.

You love everyone you meet and they all love you. There is something special about the way you look at people, the way you make them feel.


Your thighs are chunky.
Your eyes are wide.
Your hair is out of control.


Oh sweet baby Smooch, I'm so glad that the Lord thought you up and made you exactly you.

A Less Noble Perspective on Why Be a SAHM

Yesterday I was washing the dishes, staring out the kitchen window feeling a little melancholy that most of our lovely apple blossoms have already made their light descent to the grassy ground beneath. 

Then my mind drifted to my two captivating daughters.  I feel like the luckiest woman on the planet to be able to stay home and raise them.  I've always wanted to be where I am today, so in many ways, I feel like I'm living out my simple dream.  

I remember a conversation my husband and I had after we had been dating for a whopping month.  It was about kids and family.  How we both wanted some.  How I desired to raise them myself rather than work outside the home and take them to daycare.  How he spent many many hours in daycare and turned out fine.  How he didn't know an abundance good, productive stay-at-home moms - ones who didn't become overweight sitting on the couch waching soaps (or so it might seem), so the idea didn't seem entirely attractive to him. 

Then something amazing happened.  He changed his college major to something that would make a better living and provide stability.  Something that would allow us to be an one income family and not be totally strapped.  What an act of love!  I'm still scratching my head today really.

As I continued my thoughts, I began to ponder why I am a stay at home mom.  What compelled me to desire this life?  What motivates me when I'm feeling worn out?  I could say things about molding young minds.  I could talk about how no one can love a child as much as his/her mother and how terrible it feel to hand my child off to paid daycare employees while I shuffle off to work.  Before the birth of our second daughter, I might have talked of honorable things like spiritual training or the importance of tending the home.  I could have easily listed twenty noble reasons why, for me, it is important to stay home and raise the kids.   And those things were and are all true.

But now?

Over 2 1/2 years later, we have (mostly) nipped tantrums in the bud, imparted the beginnings of good manners (repetition repetition repetition), spent countless hours learning and implementing good nutrition (which means homemade everything and prepackaged almost nothing), just barely skimmed the surface of spiritual and heart training, and added an infant to the mix to make things interesting.  Oh and we get dressed every day and brush our teeth twice a day and wash our hands after...everything.  The days are gone so quickly. 

Then I find myself in a rare quiet moment wondering what I would say if someone asked me why I do what I do, instead of what it seems most everyone else does.  And do you know the best thing I could come up with in this exhausting phase of toddler-plus-infant?  In my head, it goes something like this:

All my life I have been decent at lots of different things.  I can sing, but I can't read music.  I can speak Spanish, but I'm not fluent by any means.  I can pass any test I prepare for, but I won't remember any of it later.  Those are really silly examples off the top of my head, but you get the idea.  I can do so many things, just well enough to get by.  It's been my mantra so to speak.  I've been a jack of all trades in life, interested in so many things, but not sticking with one thing long enough (or with enough intensity) to become truly great at any one of them.  Lacking focus.  Driven but...busy.  Certainly divided. 

I cannot imagine the plight of the working mom because, thankfully, I don't have to walk in those shoes.  But I do know the life of a working wife.  Did I cook dinner in those days?  Hardly.  And I have to add here that I have seen several working moms who truly are great both in their jobs and as mom.  But mostly I see a lot of women who are in survival mode.  And I know myself.  I would be in survival mode.  I would get home from work too exhausted to parent with consistency.  I would give in to tantrums because it would take less energy than resisting.  I would stop reminding Princess to use her manners because sometimes I'd just be too tired to care that she's rudely demanding snacks.  Don't get me wrong.  I would do my best, but my best would be tinged with "unfocused", "busy" and "divided."  And my inconsistency would manifest itself in my most precious children.  Not to mention my poor husband.

Especially now that I'm outnumbed, I can say that motherhood is seriously hard work.  I am far from having it all figured out.  Stated bluntly, staying home to raise our children has gone from "childhood dream with the most honorable intentions and goals" to "how in the world would I do all this if I was working full time!?"  Sometimes I still find myself in survival mode, but since being mom and wife is my main focus, survival mode shows up on one day (or week) or another, but it isn't my normal way of life.    In fact, some days I think it might be nice to drop the kids off with someone else for once and stroll into the office.  I've even had my former boss call me more than once with a tempting job offer.  

I refuse to be divided.  These sweet gifts are not little forever, and for the sake of their future I am determined that I will give my absolute best and become great at this thing called motherhood.  Even if it is the only thing I ever focus on long enough to achieve, to me, it is the one that counts the most. 

 

 

I'm Amelia and I definitely wrote this post in 5 sittings over the course of two weeks.  Apple blossoms at the top of the post?  Looooong gone!

Stream of Consciousness

The water here makes my hair super shiny!  Actually, I can't remember my hair ever looking this healthy in my whole life.  In fact, Princess's hair is rather shiny too.  I wonder if it's minerals or what?  Which reminds me, my cloth diapers come cleaner faster in this water than in Arizona.  I love that! 

I'm thinking about giving up chocolate for awhile because it is my one sugar downfall.  I normally don't struggle with sugar addiction in the same way most of this country seems to, but I do occassionally go through a chocolate phase where I can hardly resisit chocolate, consuming larger amounts of sugar than is healthy. My latest chocolate phase is lasting so much longer than usual that I think fasting it for month or so may be my only cure!

Since when does Princess put on her own socks, and when did she learn to button buttons!?  I think these are both new this last week, but now that I am a mother or two, things have a way of escaping my attention a little longer than in my previous life.  So I can't say for sure.  Princess's growing independence is both exciting and sad to me.  The first few months of a child's life is spent totally dependent on Mom, and nearly everything after that is a step toward independence.  Steps away from the parents. 

I've been thinking lately about how I want to teach our children to say "no."  Does that sound backwards or what? :-)  In all sincerity, it's important for a child to realize he/she is able to say no to things.  For instance, I will never try to force my daughters to hug and kiss people (aka family) if they don't want to.  It's important for them to understand that they don't owe anyone their affection.  Likewise, they should not let people (playmates, etc.) treat them anyway they like.   I think it is so sad that so many parents (including myself at times!) try to raise respectful, obedient, compliant children who then later turn out to be passive adults who discover they can't make a decision for themselves and are so afraid of doing the wrong thing that they can't do anything.  Then they let people walk all over them, all in the name of being polite and agreeable, but are really agreeable for the wrong reasons and are often bitter with the people for whom they bend over backwards to please.  Not to mention, they lack the resolve to say no to evil.  Oh my!  Not my children. 

All of that to say that I am sad to see how quickly our children grow because I always love exactly where we are today; however, I do not fear their growing independence and eventual separation from us, the parents.   It's just all the more reason to cherish the moment, right?  And to parent on purpose with specific goals in mind like I rambled about here.

Okay, obviously, I'm reading a good book.  I usually don't pull these ideas out of thin air as much as I am inspired. 

Which reminds me, I am crazy about etsy.com.  Oh I've perused the site here and there over the past few years, but lately I have been stopping by find inspiration.  I want to make a Quiet Book, for example, like this one.  Or maybe one that has buttons and zippers and shoelaces to tie.  Maybe both. 

Oh note to self, don't forget to start a journal for each of the girls. I need a place to record some things for them, that's not on the computer.You know, hysterical toddler quotes and the like.

Lately,  I've been "feminizing" the otherwise gender-neutral (nursery) decor of what is now the girls' room.   I can't paint walls since we're in a rental house, but I can make fabric flowers!  I'm sure I'll share pictures later.  :-)

Well I feel better after dumping my random thoughts out onto this "page."  Sometimes I just need to empty my brain out a little bit so the thoughts stop swirling around in such an out-of-control fashion. ;-)

P.S. Where is the spell check button!?

Slightly Disorganized Late Night Thoughts on Parenting

I'm up late with the baby thinking about weighty things like how I want to parent our children with specific goals in mind.  For instance, I want our daughters to be women of strong character when they are grown.  That means I need to make parenting choices that move us specifically in that direction.  Today.

I refuse to parent haphazadously.  It's too great of a privilege to be taken lightly.  We instill character (good or bad) starting right now.  That means parenting must be done very intentionally, teaching lessons in daily life even when they are not fun to teach.  We say "no" sometimes to things when it is easier to say "yes."   A lot actually. 

I think good parenting should feel like hard work much of the time. 

I do and will fail all the time, which is why I need God's grace. 

One of the things Princess is currently learning is delayed gratification. How much better would the world be if more parents taught their children delayed gratification!  Just thinking about the difference it would make in debt/spending habits in our country alone is mind-boggling.  I'm practicing delayed gratification at this very moment - Do you think Smooch will let me go to bed before 1 a.m. tonight?  Will I get to take a shower tomorrow?  ;-)

I started to ponder these things two days ago when Princess pointed out to me that Tinkerbell (on a greeting card) was "NAKED!"  So my two-year-old recognized that a cartoon fairy is a little scantily clad.  No big deal, right?  Well...it is a big deal if I am thinking futuristically, with specfic goals in mind for my child. 

You see, Tinkerbell also resides on our daughter's bedroom wall (along with some of her more well-behaved Disney friends).  Everything we do or don't do - everything we expose our children to - teaches them what is acceptable, normal, good...or otherwise.  Isn't that frightening!?  It's humbling really.  Obviously we can't shield our children from everything we think is undesirable, but we certainly can choose what we put in front of them and what we let into our homes.  I choose to recognize the influence my husband and I have on creating our daughter's "normal."   We discussed it briefly the other night.

We have given Tinkerbell the boot. 

She will not be teaching our daughter how a lady dresses and she will certainly not be teaching her how one acts.  Will we allow Princess to watch Peter Pan someday (when our somewhat sensitive, nightmare-prone child is more likely to enjoy it)?  I'm sure we will!  But we won't be celebrating Tinkerbell or hanging her picture on our walls.  Well, not anymore. ;-)

Thanks for bringing that up, daughter.

Nothing More Than Feelings

Sometimes I feel like I could cry.  For instance, when I take my one-month-old to her well check at the new doctor in the new town and my runny-nosed two-year-old wets herself only one hour after going in the toilet at home, the new patient paperwork is not anywhere close to done, the baby is screaming because she is half-naked and cold after being weighed and has been set down so that I can attend to said urine on the floor.  The baby actually never does stop crying through the whole appointment so that when the doctor comes in all conversation is practically shouted over the terrible racket of a baby who will not be soothed.   When we are done, I complete the paperwork at the check out desk while nursing the inconsolable baby while the two-year-old - having already filled with circles and scribbles every piece of paper I can offer - proceeds to unpeel the florist tape from the office flower pen, shred tissue into tiny shards, dig through my purse, and use the hand sanitizer on the desk about fifteen times.  After the paperwork is done, Smooch's tummy is full, and Princess's snot is practically hanging to her chin, I make Smooch's 2 month well-check appointment.  For the wrong month.  Good first outing on my own, don't you think?  Like I said, sometimes I feel like I could cry. 

Then other times, none of which I can recall at this very second because I am typing while attempting to pacify Smooch during her nightly ritual of the hyper-alert cranky hour(S), I feel like my heart could burst because it is so full of love and inexplicable joy. 

Rereading that, it sounds like I didn't mean that last cliche statement.  Well I did.

And I'm writing this so that every fellow mom who has ever said something that even insinuates I "have it all together" in the realm of mommyhood can just erase that thought from her mind right now.

And because writing (even my sloppy, hurried version) is free therapy. :-)


Isn't it great that none of this is ever actually about how I feel at any particular moment?


Ah!  The cranky hour is coming to an end, so to bed I go!