My husband has a good job. He enjoys what he does, and he earns enough that I am able to stay home with B. I'm grateful for that. Unfortunately, he also works weekends, holidays, and otherwise unpredictable hours.
I certainly knew this before we had kids. I anticipated the nights alone and the 12-day-stretches. What I didn't think about was the impossibility of having regular family traditions when one parent may or may not be available.
There are some things that I can't do alone (cutting down the Christmas tree) and others that I simply don't want to (having breakfast with the Easter Bunny). This past year we rushed through the Christmas morning gift opening so that Daddy could get to work.
Living back here I do have other friends and family with whom I can celebrate, for which I am grateful. The Christmas that we spent in North Carolina I sat in church by myself on Christmas Eve and cried. Holidays are the worst time to be lonely.
Obviously we do what we can. We get the tree another day. B and I head to breakfast by ourselves or include other family or friends. We're just in the formative stages of family traditions, anyway. Still, it doesn't feel right that family traditions may or may include Daddy. I feel bad for him for missing them, and bad for B and I for missing him. Things get overlooked or adjusted. It's not the same.
I know I should be grateful for Ray's presence in my life, and B's, and I am. But traditions are important to me, and I'm striving to make them meaningful as well as fun.
I know I'm not the only one in this situation. How do you form family traditions in your hectic lives?
Monday, March 26, 2012
Monday, March 19, 2012
This IS my job
Last week I was offered a job. It was 20 hours a week, and very flexible. It seemed like a great place to work, and great people with whom to work. It was less than 5 minutes from the house. It sounded perfect.
I didn't take it.
It was a hard decision. I strung them along for some time, which I feel badly about. It did sound perfect, so logically I thought I should want it. It didn't feel perfect though.
I "went with my gut," and feel as though a huge weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. I know there will be times (probably this week, maybe even today) when I think that I should have taken it, because it would be something different. But then there will be times when B is sitting in my lap, or chattering in earnest to me, or exploring the playground, when I know that it was the right decision.
So for all of my whining about there not being opportunities to work part-time, I guess I really just wanted to be a full-time mom after all. I plan to embrace it.
That doesn't mean there may not come a day in the future when I find a job that does feel right, but for now I'm putting everything I can into this job (and it is a job). My boardroom will be the playground, and my employees one smiling, furniture climbing, belly-slapping boy. My co-workers, as always, will be all mothers, all giving 110% to this most important job. There will never be a lunch hour or a quitting time, but the remuneration will make every long hour worth it.
This IS my job, and I'll take it.
I didn't take it.
It was a hard decision. I strung them along for some time, which I feel badly about. It did sound perfect, so logically I thought I should want it. It didn't feel perfect though.
I "went with my gut," and feel as though a huge weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. I know there will be times (probably this week, maybe even today) when I think that I should have taken it, because it would be something different. But then there will be times when B is sitting in my lap, or chattering in earnest to me, or exploring the playground, when I know that it was the right decision.
So for all of my whining about there not being opportunities to work part-time, I guess I really just wanted to be a full-time mom after all. I plan to embrace it.
That doesn't mean there may not come a day in the future when I find a job that does feel right, but for now I'm putting everything I can into this job (and it is a job). My boardroom will be the playground, and my employees one smiling, furniture climbing, belly-slapping boy. My co-workers, as always, will be all mothers, all giving 110% to this most important job. There will never be a lunch hour or a quitting time, but the remuneration will make every long hour worth it.
This IS my job, and I'll take it.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Mommy guilt for dummies
My husband is pretty wonderful. He's a great dad and always very supportive of me. Still, he is completely clueless about why I am so conflicted about going back to work.
The thing is, I am an intelligent, educated woman. It seems a little ridiculous to have put the time and money into a master's degree only to spend my day changing diapers and playing with blocks. I do crave adult interaction at times, as well as appreciation. Appreciation not just for making dinner, but for my mind. I want to be stimulated and challenged and to feel competent!
It's important to me not to lose my identity. I want to be active in the community and not just B's mom.
On the other hand, I love my son so much. I'm certain that no one else will take care of him as well as I do. I want to make the decisions about what he eats, how he is entertained, and how he is disciplined. I want to be able to take care of him when he is sick. I want to be the first face he sees when he wakes up.
My mom is our childcare, which in many ways is great. The one way in which it is not is that other sitters would be less likely to question me about my decisions. I love how close B is to his Nana, but I am still the mom.
So I'm torn. In a day I'll flip-flop so many times. My usual indecisiveness? Perhaps, but also appreciation for what a complex decision it is.
Still confused? You must not be a mom.
The thing is, I am an intelligent, educated woman. It seems a little ridiculous to have put the time and money into a master's degree only to spend my day changing diapers and playing with blocks. I do crave adult interaction at times, as well as appreciation. Appreciation not just for making dinner, but for my mind. I want to be stimulated and challenged and to feel competent!
It's important to me not to lose my identity. I want to be active in the community and not just B's mom.
On the other hand, I love my son so much. I'm certain that no one else will take care of him as well as I do. I want to make the decisions about what he eats, how he is entertained, and how he is disciplined. I want to be able to take care of him when he is sick. I want to be the first face he sees when he wakes up.
My mom is our childcare, which in many ways is great. The one way in which it is not is that other sitters would be less likely to question me about my decisions. I love how close B is to his Nana, but I am still the mom.
So I'm torn. In a day I'll flip-flop so many times. My usual indecisiveness? Perhaps, but also appreciation for what a complex decision it is.
Still confused? You must not be a mom.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Bye-bye, boobie
On Saturday, B will be 15 months old. That is the date I have set to stop breastfeeding.
It's time. It's no longer as enjoyable for either of us as it once was. I'm looking forward to enjoying wine with dinner again! And I am so over pumping.
Still, it's a big milestone.
I never saw myself Extended Breastfeeding (EBF). I always said that it stopped with the first birthday cake. But here's the thing: I loved it. He loved it. What's not to love?
First and perhaps most importantly, breastfeeding is an incredible bonding activity. Your baby's skin is next to yours, and first the first 6 months, you are providing all of the nutrition that your baby needs. That's amazing, right? This time is incredibly soothing for your child. It can calm him, put him to sleep, and fill his belly.
Although we're winding down, I was really glad that I was still breastfeeding this past weekend when B was sick. He was absolutely miserable and nothing seemed to soothe him, but nursing still did the trick.
Of course, it's also free and so convenient. Nothing to buy, no bottles and coolers to carry; the food is always available.
Besides being soothing, breastfeeding provides your baby with antibodies that aren't found in formula. These antibodies lower your child's risk of SIDS, ear infections, stomach viruses and respiratory infections, asthma, diabetes, obesity, and childhood leukemia! (http://www.womenshealth.gov/publications/our-publications/fact-sheet/breastfeeding.cfm#a)
As if that's not enough, breastfeeding can also lower mom's risk of diabetes, breast and ovarian cancer, and postpartum depression. Plus it helps you lose weight! I know I've joked before about weight loss being the main reason to breastfeed. You know what? It doesn't matter if it is. No matter what your primary motivation, your baby is still getting all of the benefits!
So while it's time to move on, I'm sad to stop breastfeeding too. We were a great team. We had so many special moments with him curled up against my chest. Sure, there were moments when I felt chained to the house or to the pump, but they were a small price to pay for all of the benefits for both of us.
Bye-bye, boobies.
It's time. It's no longer as enjoyable for either of us as it once was. I'm looking forward to enjoying wine with dinner again! And I am so over pumping.
Still, it's a big milestone.
I never saw myself Extended Breastfeeding (EBF). I always said that it stopped with the first birthday cake. But here's the thing: I loved it. He loved it. What's not to love?
First and perhaps most importantly, breastfeeding is an incredible bonding activity. Your baby's skin is next to yours, and first the first 6 months, you are providing all of the nutrition that your baby needs. That's amazing, right? This time is incredibly soothing for your child. It can calm him, put him to sleep, and fill his belly.
Although we're winding down, I was really glad that I was still breastfeeding this past weekend when B was sick. He was absolutely miserable and nothing seemed to soothe him, but nursing still did the trick.
Of course, it's also free and so convenient. Nothing to buy, no bottles and coolers to carry; the food is always available.
Besides being soothing, breastfeeding provides your baby with antibodies that aren't found in formula. These antibodies lower your child's risk of SIDS, ear infections, stomach viruses and respiratory infections, asthma, diabetes, obesity, and childhood leukemia! (http://www.womenshealth.gov/publications/our-publications/fact-sheet/breastfeeding.cfm#a)
As if that's not enough, breastfeeding can also lower mom's risk of diabetes, breast and ovarian cancer, and postpartum depression. Plus it helps you lose weight! I know I've joked before about weight loss being the main reason to breastfeed. You know what? It doesn't matter if it is. No matter what your primary motivation, your baby is still getting all of the benefits!
So while it's time to move on, I'm sad to stop breastfeeding too. We were a great team. We had so many special moments with him curled up against my chest. Sure, there were moments when I felt chained to the house or to the pump, but they were a small price to pay for all of the benefits for both of us.
Bye-bye, boobies.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Mom jeans
I have never really been fashionable. I don't think I'm "What Not To Wear" worthy, I just have a pretty basic style. I like to think of it as a "classic" style. I'll pick up styles that I feel comfortable with and ignore those (jeggings) that I don't.
Like most new moms, I was eager to get back into my regular clothes after the limited wardrobe of pregnancy, especially late pregnancy. I was aware that it might take awhile to fit in those clothes, but I didn't anticipate many of the other caveats of mom-wardrobing.
Mom jeans: Yes, I made fun of them before but I totally GET them now. The first time I wore my low-rise jeans and reached up I realized that I had just showed the world my stretchmarks. Furthermore, I spend a lot more time on the ground than I used to. Butt cracks are only cute on infants and toddlers.
Shirts: The number one priority here is easy access. But from the bottom, because at a certain age the little one will start tugging at the top, certain that everyone else wants to see your breasts just as much as he does. After you've had a gaggle of residents staring under the sheet over your legs, you don't really have that much modesty left. That thin shred is quickly depleted by a small person who gets hungry no matter who is around. Still, you probably have a bit more than your child thinks you should. That's right, at least for the first few years, your child won't think twice about exposing you to whoever is around. That means clothing needs to be tug-proof. You might think that a button-down front would be ideal, but chances are your new (and sadly, temporary) fuller figure makes them an indecent option as well.
Dresses: Not an option. Unless you can find a style that gives you front or top access, I don't recommend pulling your skirt up to your shoulders when it's time to nurse.
Hair: In the first few weeks, a ponytail is simply a matter of survival. If your hair is clean when you put it back you have had a good day. Just when you think you have things under control enough to do something with it, your little one begins to find the temptation of those swinging locks to be too much and gives them regular tugs. Back to the ponytail once again.
Accessories: Earrings, necklaces, etc. are too much of a temptation for little hands. Like a letter man jacket or your sorority pin, the white spot (spit-up, snot, etc) on your shoulder is your new accessory indicating membership in the mom club.
Shoes: If you had any trouble walking in them before, try doing it with a wiggle-monster perched on one hip.
Add to these concerns the need for durability and washable-ness and the fact that it seems like your size changes faster than your baby's, and it's amazing moms ever get dressed at all.
Like most new moms, I was eager to get back into my regular clothes after the limited wardrobe of pregnancy, especially late pregnancy. I was aware that it might take awhile to fit in those clothes, but I didn't anticipate many of the other caveats of mom-wardrobing.
Mom jeans: Yes, I made fun of them before but I totally GET them now. The first time I wore my low-rise jeans and reached up I realized that I had just showed the world my stretchmarks. Furthermore, I spend a lot more time on the ground than I used to. Butt cracks are only cute on infants and toddlers.
Shirts: The number one priority here is easy access. But from the bottom, because at a certain age the little one will start tugging at the top, certain that everyone else wants to see your breasts just as much as he does. After you've had a gaggle of residents staring under the sheet over your legs, you don't really have that much modesty left. That thin shred is quickly depleted by a small person who gets hungry no matter who is around. Still, you probably have a bit more than your child thinks you should. That's right, at least for the first few years, your child won't think twice about exposing you to whoever is around. That means clothing needs to be tug-proof. You might think that a button-down front would be ideal, but chances are your new (and sadly, temporary) fuller figure makes them an indecent option as well.
Dresses: Not an option. Unless you can find a style that gives you front or top access, I don't recommend pulling your skirt up to your shoulders when it's time to nurse.
Hair: In the first few weeks, a ponytail is simply a matter of survival. If your hair is clean when you put it back you have had a good day. Just when you think you have things under control enough to do something with it, your little one begins to find the temptation of those swinging locks to be too much and gives them regular tugs. Back to the ponytail once again.
Accessories: Earrings, necklaces, etc. are too much of a temptation for little hands. Like a letter man jacket or your sorority pin, the white spot (spit-up, snot, etc) on your shoulder is your new accessory indicating membership in the mom club.
Shoes: If you had any trouble walking in them before, try doing it with a wiggle-monster perched on one hip.
Add to these concerns the need for durability and washable-ness and the fact that it seems like your size changes faster than your baby's, and it's amazing moms ever get dressed at all.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
The mom-ents that keep us going
I love being a mom. I do. I love my son more than I ever thought possible. Still, there are definitely times...
Anyone who says they love every minute of being a mother is a) lying, or b) has a sad, sad life. Don't get me wrong, I still love my son when I'm cleaning up vomit, walking in circles trying to calm him down, or pulling him out from behind the TV for the 78th time today, but there are definitely other things I would rather be doing.
I think it's completely normal to miss your pre-child life sometimes. Early on Saturdays and anytime you're awake between 11pm and 6am are probably common times.
Luckily, there are the mom-ents (haha) to remind you why you do what you do.
I've been thinking a lot about holding on to these fleeting moments lately. B's breastfeeding days are numbered, and though it's time to be done, I'm going to miss the closeness. When B was a baby, milk fixed everything. He would fall asleep curled up against me, and as long as I was holding him, he was happy. For 4 months he slept in the bassinet next to me, where I could hear him breathing and know that he was okay. I still miss that.
The quest for independence can be frustrating for both parent and child, but I burst with pride at every little accomplishment. I know it's silly, but the first time he clapped his hands I actually cried.
Right now, my favorite time of day is when, after Ray gives him his bath, he comes toddling down the hall in just his diaper, slapping his thrust-out belly and laughing, and gives me a hug. I don't want him to walk better. I don't want him to be potty-trained. I want him to be this sweet little boy forever.
These are the moments that make everything else worth it.
Anyone who says they love every minute of being a mother is a) lying, or b) has a sad, sad life. Don't get me wrong, I still love my son when I'm cleaning up vomit, walking in circles trying to calm him down, or pulling him out from behind the TV for the 78th time today, but there are definitely other things I would rather be doing.
I think it's completely normal to miss your pre-child life sometimes. Early on Saturdays and anytime you're awake between 11pm and 6am are probably common times.
Luckily, there are the mom-ents (haha) to remind you why you do what you do.
I've been thinking a lot about holding on to these fleeting moments lately. B's breastfeeding days are numbered, and though it's time to be done, I'm going to miss the closeness. When B was a baby, milk fixed everything. He would fall asleep curled up against me, and as long as I was holding him, he was happy. For 4 months he slept in the bassinet next to me, where I could hear him breathing and know that he was okay. I still miss that.
The quest for independence can be frustrating for both parent and child, but I burst with pride at every little accomplishment. I know it's silly, but the first time he clapped his hands I actually cried.
Right now, my favorite time of day is when, after Ray gives him his bath, he comes toddling down the hall in just his diaper, slapping his thrust-out belly and laughing, and gives me a hug. I don't want him to walk better. I don't want him to be potty-trained. I want him to be this sweet little boy forever.
These are the moments that make everything else worth it.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Mommy guilt, part 1 of 1 million...
I meant to be a better mother, I really did. The reason I wanted to stay home was so that I could provide all of these fun and educational opportunities for my son. Day trips, crafts, games, etc.
But the reality is that babies and toddlers don't do that well with this type of structured activity. That, and, even on the two nap a day schedule, I often feel like I'm swimming upstream just to keep the house clean, prepare nutritious meals, and keep my little one safe and entertained.
This mommy-guilt hit me the other day as I was addressing the store-bought valentines I got for the other kids in Benjamin's music class. The teacher sent an e-mail giving the children's names, should we wish to bring valentines but assuring us we were under no obligation to do so. Honestly, the only reason they got the card stock boxed cards is that I was at the grocery store on the day after Valentine's Day and there was a rack of half-priced cards that jogged my memory. So I perused the picked over candy, decided it was all inappropriate for a class of babies and toddlers, and held up the boxes of Winnie the Pooh and Snoopy valentines and bought the one that B grabbed (Winnie the Pooh). I addressed, assembled, and remembered to take them to class. All big accomplishments for me! I did scold myself, though, because I fully intended to be the kind of mom who made homemade valentines.
So I was feeling a little guilty, but also exhausted as usual. I started mentally railing against all of those blogger moms who spend their days not only doing adorable crafts, but then taking pictures and posting instructions for the rest of us. Who has time for that? I convinced myself that their children were being neglected by their craftiness. There is nothing like the blogosphere to induce mommy-guilt.
Then we went to class yesterday, and all of the other children brought valentines. Some were homemade. All contained a treat (except ours. Just a pathetic little piece of paper and "a sticker for you!") I did console myself that most of the treats were choking hazards (so, consoled myself by eating my son's candy. Hey, it's all about safety). Some parents were on top of things enough to get little bags of goldfish and teddy grahams. Things they no longer had on the day after the holiday when I finally managed to remember to get something.
I'm going to get it together, I swear. I am going to rock Easter. You just wait for the photos and step-by-step instructions! B will be almost 16 months by then, totally old enough to dye eggs, mix candy, and ice cupcakes, right?
But the reality is that babies and toddlers don't do that well with this type of structured activity. That, and, even on the two nap a day schedule, I often feel like I'm swimming upstream just to keep the house clean, prepare nutritious meals, and keep my little one safe and entertained.
This mommy-guilt hit me the other day as I was addressing the store-bought valentines I got for the other kids in Benjamin's music class. The teacher sent an e-mail giving the children's names, should we wish to bring valentines but assuring us we were under no obligation to do so. Honestly, the only reason they got the card stock boxed cards is that I was at the grocery store on the day after Valentine's Day and there was a rack of half-priced cards that jogged my memory. So I perused the picked over candy, decided it was all inappropriate for a class of babies and toddlers, and held up the boxes of Winnie the Pooh and Snoopy valentines and bought the one that B grabbed (Winnie the Pooh). I addressed, assembled, and remembered to take them to class. All big accomplishments for me! I did scold myself, though, because I fully intended to be the kind of mom who made homemade valentines.
So I was feeling a little guilty, but also exhausted as usual. I started mentally railing against all of those blogger moms who spend their days not only doing adorable crafts, but then taking pictures and posting instructions for the rest of us. Who has time for that? I convinced myself that their children were being neglected by their craftiness. There is nothing like the blogosphere to induce mommy-guilt.
Then we went to class yesterday, and all of the other children brought valentines. Some were homemade. All contained a treat (except ours. Just a pathetic little piece of paper and "a sticker for you!") I did console myself that most of the treats were choking hazards (so, consoled myself by eating my son's candy. Hey, it's all about safety). Some parents were on top of things enough to get little bags of goldfish and teddy grahams. Things they no longer had on the day after the holiday when I finally managed to remember to get something.
I'm going to get it together, I swear. I am going to rock Easter. You just wait for the photos and step-by-step instructions! B will be almost 16 months by then, totally old enough to dye eggs, mix candy, and ice cupcakes, right?
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