This isn't specifically a post about motherhood. But if we want mothers to be trusted, respected and taken seriously, we need women to be trusted, respected and taken seriously. And something that eats away at that respect every day is best referred to as casual sexism. It's not overt, woman-hating, rape-apologizing, pay-discriminating, health care-denying sexism that most reasonable people recognize and dislike. It's much more insidious, and it plants the seeds for all of the other stuff. The problem with casual sexism is that it's used, usually unknowingly, by people who say they support women's equal rights.
Some examples:
TV shows that depict all (or most) female characters as irrational babies.
Any TV show with a "dumb blonde" character.
Jokes where the punchline is some variation on "women are confusing"
Jokes where the punchline is some variation on "women are crazy"
Jokes where the punchline is some variation on "women are inferior to [insert male-appreciated thing here: beer, cars, football]"
TV commercials that sell things by saying some variation of "only for men - too tough for women"
AND crucially:
The dismissive response you get when you point out the underlying sexism in any one of these things.
Casual sexism comes from a quiet underlying assumption that women are irrational, infantile, weak, untrustworthy and unreasonable. If this assumption sits underneath all of our cultural references, it becomes easy and natural to make jokes about how incomprehensible "women" are and not even notice that you've insulted your friends, family and audience. If this is underlying our jokes, what we're saying is that women are all the same. This one thought alone is poisonous.
When women are automatically and unquestioningly assumed to be universally inferior and irrational, not only do they not deserve respect or trust, but it's also a lot easier to treat them with violence. This is not a minor point. Casual sexism seems unimportant, but it sets the stage for discrimination and violence.
So many times, I have questioned the underlying assumptions about women in jokes or TV shows or movies and been told that I'm finding problems where there are none. That I'm overreacting. Sometimes I tell myself that.
But I think a good smell test is to ask yourself: Does this joke/tv show/commercial rely on an assumption about women's weakness or inferiority? If it does, and it's not questioned, it lays the basis for all the "real" overt sexism and misogyny that most people do tend to recognize and oppose.
If we all just agree that women are infantile, and let that be an assumption that we're all working from, sexual discrimination comes easily after that. The premise of a joke is a commonly-shared understanding. If that premise is, without any self-awareness or irony, assuming that women are lunatic harpies bent on the destruction of men, it's not "just a joke." It lays the groundwork for all kinds of really horrible things down the line.
So please, the next time you hear a joke or watch a show that doesn't pass the smell test, call it out. Call it out in front of your friends, family and most importantly your children, and let them know why it's wrong. Until we start pointing out that we're working on bad assumptions, all the rest of the bad stuff that's happening to women right now will be a lot harder to stop.
Sweating the small stuff might be the best way to protect ourselves and our daughters from a culture that doesn't trust us to behave like adults.
I don't want to have to tell my daughter that there are people in the world, lots and lots of them, who believe that the little boys in her preschool class deserve the right to someday tell her what to do with her own body. That those little boys should someday have the right to dominate her, discriminate against her and force her to be pregnant and give birth against her will.
I don't want to tell her those things. And I won't have to. Because these insidious little jokes that go by unchallenged and the stupid roles that women (STILL!) play on television and the shallow and infantile female exemplars that we teach our children about are doing that job, quietly and secretly, without me having to say a word.
Let's start fighting this at the source. Stop the unquestioned acceptance of casual sexism. Forty years ago, people made casually racist jokes all the time. Those who questioned those jokes were laughed off as overly sensitive and overly political. But casually racist jokes, while certainly not gone, are not publicly acceptable anymore, at least not in most national media or in relatively educated circles of progressive people. Unfortunately, I know dozens of educated, progressive men who would publicly make a casually sexist joke ( "women are so confusing!") without hesitation, but would never publicly make a casually racist joke ( "black people are so [fill in blank]!"). The same can be said for many television shows. There is ample room for progress here.
A final note to the guys who make these jokes. Some of you make these jokes because you are mad at one particular woman. Please imagine instead that you were mad at a man of color. Would you turn to facebook and post a litany of racist jokes? Less likely. Because you understand that man of color to be one person who has wronged you, not the embodiment of his entire race. Please, if you can try just one time, try to consider that women are also individual people.
Women are not all alike. We do not all think the same way. We do not all treat you the same way. We are all real human beings who have the same kind of brain as you do, and we deserve to be treated that way. Furthermore, we do not owe you anything. We have bad days and get grumpy. We sometimes don't feel like talking. Sometimes we find people unattractive. We have not betrayed you. We are just people with opinions that are as valid as yours.
Instead of extrapolating your anger at one woman to all other women, try instead to feel just a little bit of empathy and human understanding. Imagine feeling frightened for your safety on a regular basis, being ordered by large men you don't know to smile when you're having a terrible day, having perfect strangers comment on your appearance on a daily basis, hearing your elected officials discussing your genitalia and what you should be allowed to do with it, being told that if you are unfortunate enough to be raped that you will be forced to be pregnant for the better part of a year and then forced to give birth to a child you are frightened of and angry at, and then at the end of a long day seeing the people you love and respect making jokes with your inferiority as the punchline.
It needs to stop. We need to stop laughing it off. Call it out when you hear it. Call it out in front of your children. Casual sexism is the base upon which all of this other terrible stuff is built. We need to stop it at the source. And teach our children to do the same. If we're lucky, by the time our kids are grown they'll know casual sexism when they hear it and they'll stand up and denounce it, and we can finally stop having to listen to our elected officials needing to clarify that despite their prior statements, they actually believe raping women is bad.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Caring for a Newborn: It's Kind of a Big Deal
I've recently heard from a few different friends, at home with newborns, who've said variations on the theme "I'm ok, I sleep 3 hours and then feed the baby and then sleep another 2-3 hours, so that's 6 hours of sleep, which is plenty." No naps? I ask. "No, I have stuff to do, and 6 hours is ok. I feel fine."
Ok mama. I know you are a superhero. I've seen you accomplish amazing things. You are a tough lady. But this newborn thing, this is different than the other stuff you've done. First of all, two 3-hour naps is not 6 hours of sleep. You may feel ok, but you are sleep-deprived. You are. 6 solid hours a night isn't even really enough when you're taking care of a crying baby all day. You're not even getting that. In a few months time, when you come out of this fog, you will realize that it's a fog.
Let's try a test. Where are your keys? What did you have for breakfast this morning? Did it take a normal amount of time for you to answer those questions? If so, you can skip the rest of this.
I know you just want to feel normal, and go to bed at your pre-baby bedtime, and wake up at your pre-baby wakeup time, and get stuff done around the house like you used to pre-baby. And you will, in a few months.
But right now is newborn time. It's not normal, it's not permanent, and you don't have to pretend everything is ok. You can and should treat yourself like you're severely ill. If you had a vicious stomach bug, would you go to bed and wake up at the normal times? Would you get up and clean the house? No, you'd probably take care of yourself, get as much rest as possible, and wait until you were feeling better before you got back to the normal routine.
That's what you need to do now. You don't win any contests by going to bed at 11 or washing dishes when you could be napping. Go to bed when the baby goes to sleep and it is dark outside. That might be 8pm. You are not lazy. If the baby wakes at 7am, eats, and then goes back to sleep for 2 more hours, you do that too. You are not lazy. Let your partner deal with the dishes and laundry if they can. Outsource housework as much as possible. You are not lazy. You are already doing more housework than anybody else, simply by caring for a baby. Baby care is work. It's hard work. And you should be proud of it and count it as a major accomplishment every day.
You're keeping a baby alive by feeding it every 2-3 hours, changing diapers, and holding, rocking and soothing it when it cries. Nobody in the world should expect you to be doing anything else right now. Especially you.
Ok mama. I know you are a superhero. I've seen you accomplish amazing things. You are a tough lady. But this newborn thing, this is different than the other stuff you've done. First of all, two 3-hour naps is not 6 hours of sleep. You may feel ok, but you are sleep-deprived. You are. 6 solid hours a night isn't even really enough when you're taking care of a crying baby all day. You're not even getting that. In a few months time, when you come out of this fog, you will realize that it's a fog.
Let's try a test. Where are your keys? What did you have for breakfast this morning? Did it take a normal amount of time for you to answer those questions? If so, you can skip the rest of this.
I know you just want to feel normal, and go to bed at your pre-baby bedtime, and wake up at your pre-baby wakeup time, and get stuff done around the house like you used to pre-baby. And you will, in a few months.
But right now is newborn time. It's not normal, it's not permanent, and you don't have to pretend everything is ok. You can and should treat yourself like you're severely ill. If you had a vicious stomach bug, would you go to bed and wake up at the normal times? Would you get up and clean the house? No, you'd probably take care of yourself, get as much rest as possible, and wait until you were feeling better before you got back to the normal routine.
That's what you need to do now. You don't win any contests by going to bed at 11 or washing dishes when you could be napping. Go to bed when the baby goes to sleep and it is dark outside. That might be 8pm. You are not lazy. If the baby wakes at 7am, eats, and then goes back to sleep for 2 more hours, you do that too. You are not lazy. Let your partner deal with the dishes and laundry if they can. Outsource housework as much as possible. You are not lazy. You are already doing more housework than anybody else, simply by caring for a baby. Baby care is work. It's hard work. And you should be proud of it and count it as a major accomplishment every day.
You're keeping a baby alive by feeding it every 2-3 hours, changing diapers, and holding, rocking and soothing it when it cries. Nobody in the world should expect you to be doing anything else right now. Especially you.
Time Out Despair
Time Out Despair: The sinking feeling of failure that descends upon a parent one second after administering the time out, particularly when the time out is accompanied by furious screaming. Thought content includes - "how did we get to this point?" "why couldn't I prevent this?" "I do not like this child." "I am a total monster and miserable failure of a mother."
Skip to 10 minutes later, everybody playing happily, hugs administered, tantrum purged, feelings discussed, despair totally forgotten.
If only I could keep a hint of the 10 minutes later feeling tucked somewhere inside the time out despair.
Skip to 10 minutes later, everybody playing happily, hugs administered, tantrum purged, feelings discussed, despair totally forgotten.
If only I could keep a hint of the 10 minutes later feeling tucked somewhere inside the time out despair.
Monday, October 8, 2012
Ignore Your Kids Sometimes
I was sitting with my two girls tonight. Penny was loudly demanding her milk, teddy, lovie AND blankie, all together, all delivered immediately by me. When I asked for a "please", she repeated the word sarcastically. When I said "your teddy is 3 feet in front of you, go pick him up yourself," she moaned and whined and yelled "get him for me!" Mabel, during this exchange, was crawling around the room. She was exploring alone, pulling herself up to stand, sometimes falling down, hard, on her butt. Then looking around, finding another place to explore, and heading there. She bumped her head on a chair, she toppled over a few times. No crying.
I thought about it for a minute. If Mabel had been my first kid, I would have been following her around the room, watching for any hint of imbalance, my arms precariously raised to catch her at any moment, so she wouldn't get hurt. In fact, I did that with Penny. I spent all of Penny's infant months in constant contact with her. Watching her every move, preventing falls, fulfilling requests. And the result of that was that her falls, when they happened, were worse. She was bad at recovering from a fall, she wouldn't catch herself, she never learned how. Mabel, on the other hand, has grown into a fearless adventurer, off to get the thing she wants as soon as she thinks of it, struggles be damned.
It made me realize that the thing that people often derogatorily refer to as "helicopter parenting" comes in two forms. One form is an aggressive, "you will be what I want you to be" type of parenting. But FAR more common is a fearful, protective well-meaning type of parenting. A parenting strategy that says "when I give attention to something, I do a better job at it" and "I will not emotionally neglect my child, I will always be there for her so she won't ever feel alone" and "if I love and protect her all the time, I can't go wrong."
But looking at my two girls, I realized that, actually, it's good to leave a kid alone sometimes. Obviously, everything is a matter of degree. If we're talking about parents who leave their kids alone in front of the tv for 6 hours a day, this message doesn't really apply. But if we're talking about parents who really, really try very hard to give their kids the best chance and the most support and the unquestionable message that they are loved, all the time, no matter what, this message is important.
Kids need time alone. They need for us not to be watching them sometimes. Not totally neglecting, just looking in another direction. I could hear today, from her little slappy hands on the floor, what part of the room Mabel was in. But I didn't see her, and she didn't see me, so for a few minutes at at time, she was, as far as she knew, alone. And when she fell down, she had to deal with it. And she seemed, really and truly, to love it. Penny didn't feel that until she was 2 years old. And I think I did her a disservice.
The funny thing is, when you give your kid a little space, you give yourself a little space too. And tonight, after Penny and I settled our dispute, and Mabel was happily pulling herself up to stand under the dining table, I read 5 pages of a novel, sitting on the couch. It was great. It's just another reminder that it's not a sustainable or natural parenting technique to spend all your time watching and worrying about your kid. You, as a mom, are expected by nature to have other things to do. So do them. You'll love it and so will your baby.
I thought about it for a minute. If Mabel had been my first kid, I would have been following her around the room, watching for any hint of imbalance, my arms precariously raised to catch her at any moment, so she wouldn't get hurt. In fact, I did that with Penny. I spent all of Penny's infant months in constant contact with her. Watching her every move, preventing falls, fulfilling requests. And the result of that was that her falls, when they happened, were worse. She was bad at recovering from a fall, she wouldn't catch herself, she never learned how. Mabel, on the other hand, has grown into a fearless adventurer, off to get the thing she wants as soon as she thinks of it, struggles be damned.
It made me realize that the thing that people often derogatorily refer to as "helicopter parenting" comes in two forms. One form is an aggressive, "you will be what I want you to be" type of parenting. But FAR more common is a fearful, protective well-meaning type of parenting. A parenting strategy that says "when I give attention to something, I do a better job at it" and "I will not emotionally neglect my child, I will always be there for her so she won't ever feel alone" and "if I love and protect her all the time, I can't go wrong."
But looking at my two girls, I realized that, actually, it's good to leave a kid alone sometimes. Obviously, everything is a matter of degree. If we're talking about parents who leave their kids alone in front of the tv for 6 hours a day, this message doesn't really apply. But if we're talking about parents who really, really try very hard to give their kids the best chance and the most support and the unquestionable message that they are loved, all the time, no matter what, this message is important.
Kids need time alone. They need for us not to be watching them sometimes. Not totally neglecting, just looking in another direction. I could hear today, from her little slappy hands on the floor, what part of the room Mabel was in. But I didn't see her, and she didn't see me, so for a few minutes at at time, she was, as far as she knew, alone. And when she fell down, she had to deal with it. And she seemed, really and truly, to love it. Penny didn't feel that until she was 2 years old. And I think I did her a disservice.
The funny thing is, when you give your kid a little space, you give yourself a little space too. And tonight, after Penny and I settled our dispute, and Mabel was happily pulling herself up to stand under the dining table, I read 5 pages of a novel, sitting on the couch. It was great. It's just another reminder that it's not a sustainable or natural parenting technique to spend all your time watching and worrying about your kid. You, as a mom, are expected by nature to have other things to do. So do them. You'll love it and so will your baby.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
The Loneliest Lonely
A mom friend recently told me about the following situation.
Immediately after the birth of her second child, her husband would wake up with her for diaper changes. Not for feedings, which she had to do on her own because she was breastfeeding, but for the diaper changes that happened after the feedings. He would wake up, sit up, and take the dirty diaper out of her hands. Not a huge effort, but a hugely meaningful one. It meant that she wasn't alone in the world when a living adult person was sleeping next to her.
And that's really the loneliest lonely. When you're all alone, even when another living person is physically, but not emotionally, there with you.
I can't think of a deeper feeling of loneliness.
And she was lucky, because he didn't allow her to feel that. He sat up in bed, spoke a few words, and took the dirty diaper and put it in the garbage can. It was a simple thing to do, but it meant everything.
And then, gradually, he stopped helping. The baby started sleeping through the night, and the morning started feeling less dire. And instead of waking up and taking care of their older kid while she slept or fed the baby, he started letting her take care of both kids. She was now working on a full night of sleep, and he had work to do and to get ready for, and she was the first to hop out of bed at the sound of the kids waking.
And over time, this became normal. And as the baby got older, she had more work to do in the morning. Feeding and dressing both kids became a bigger, kid-chasing, messy-spooning, you-take-another-bite-threatening, waffle-toasting, lunch-packing, hair-brushing, tooth-brushing, face-washing, potty-reminding, get-out-the-door-in-time-scrambling, mess.
And some mornings, when she was doing all this, he was still there. Taking his shower. Putting on his clothes. Getting ready for his day at the office. Which, granted, was very important. The family needed him to go to work. And she worked from home, which meant she bore the brunt of the family care. But one day, she realized that she felt totally, deeply alone.
And she asked me if this is normal.
And I didn't know what to say.
It shouldn't be? But it is? I hope it's not? But I've heard it so many times before. And I've felt it myself.
It's so easy to lose yourself in childcare. To lose sight of teamwork in a marriage. And it's so easy for the person with a difficult day job to prioritize their own schedules above your family's. In so many ways, they have to.
And it's so easy to fall into a pattern where this feels normal. One person does overwhelming work to care for the kids and the other works hard to make money and just isn't there most weekdays. Weekends are the rare times when everybody comes together and then the kids get confused and sometimes frantic and overly excited, and then it's back to the one-parent model for the rest of the week.
It's nobody's fault, it's not ideal, and long hard workdays for the full-time wage-earners don't help.
But for the mom who's stuck in it, feeling isolated and alone, and unsure about whether that's even ok to feel, it's ok. Even if he's paying most of the bills, it's ok to feel alone, tell him that, and ask for help in the times of day when he can reasonably provide it. It's better to ask for it than to spend years feeling overburdened, lonely and isolated. That's a really harmful set of feelings. And it makes for a very sad, very deep feeling of loneliness that damages marriages and families. I don't wish that on this mom friend, I don't wish it on you, and it's devastating when I feel it myself.
So please ask for help when you need it. Taking care of two kids is hard, hard work. It's not the same as a demanding office job, it's not even comparable. Two different worlds. In fact, I'd often argue that the office job is easier, at least in the amount of begging, cleaning, arguing and tackling involved. If you're feeling overwhelmed, ask for help from your partner. And if and when he agrees to help, let him.
The image of the selfless mother who sacrifices every bit of her energy and sanity to raise her kids, with no help from anyone, is absolutely nuts. Don't allow this idealized vision of motherhood to stop you from asking for support and defending your own basic needs. You don't need to be oppressed to be a good mother. You know what you do need? Help. Every day. Find it wherever you can.
Immediately after the birth of her second child, her husband would wake up with her for diaper changes. Not for feedings, which she had to do on her own because she was breastfeeding, but for the diaper changes that happened after the feedings. He would wake up, sit up, and take the dirty diaper out of her hands. Not a huge effort, but a hugely meaningful one. It meant that she wasn't alone in the world when a living adult person was sleeping next to her.
And that's really the loneliest lonely. When you're all alone, even when another living person is physically, but not emotionally, there with you.
I can't think of a deeper feeling of loneliness.
And she was lucky, because he didn't allow her to feel that. He sat up in bed, spoke a few words, and took the dirty diaper and put it in the garbage can. It was a simple thing to do, but it meant everything.
And then, gradually, he stopped helping. The baby started sleeping through the night, and the morning started feeling less dire. And instead of waking up and taking care of their older kid while she slept or fed the baby, he started letting her take care of both kids. She was now working on a full night of sleep, and he had work to do and to get ready for, and she was the first to hop out of bed at the sound of the kids waking.
And over time, this became normal. And as the baby got older, she had more work to do in the morning. Feeding and dressing both kids became a bigger, kid-chasing, messy-spooning, you-take-another-bite-threatening, waffle-toasting, lunch-packing, hair-brushing, tooth-brushing, face-washing, potty-reminding, get-out-the-door-in-time-scrambling, mess.
And some mornings, when she was doing all this, he was still there. Taking his shower. Putting on his clothes. Getting ready for his day at the office. Which, granted, was very important. The family needed him to go to work. And she worked from home, which meant she bore the brunt of the family care. But one day, she realized that she felt totally, deeply alone.
And she asked me if this is normal.
And I didn't know what to say.
It shouldn't be? But it is? I hope it's not? But I've heard it so many times before. And I've felt it myself.
It's so easy to lose yourself in childcare. To lose sight of teamwork in a marriage. And it's so easy for the person with a difficult day job to prioritize their own schedules above your family's. In so many ways, they have to.
And it's so easy to fall into a pattern where this feels normal. One person does overwhelming work to care for the kids and the other works hard to make money and just isn't there most weekdays. Weekends are the rare times when everybody comes together and then the kids get confused and sometimes frantic and overly excited, and then it's back to the one-parent model for the rest of the week.
It's nobody's fault, it's not ideal, and long hard workdays for the full-time wage-earners don't help.
But for the mom who's stuck in it, feeling isolated and alone, and unsure about whether that's even ok to feel, it's ok. Even if he's paying most of the bills, it's ok to feel alone, tell him that, and ask for help in the times of day when he can reasonably provide it. It's better to ask for it than to spend years feeling overburdened, lonely and isolated. That's a really harmful set of feelings. And it makes for a very sad, very deep feeling of loneliness that damages marriages and families. I don't wish that on this mom friend, I don't wish it on you, and it's devastating when I feel it myself.
So please ask for help when you need it. Taking care of two kids is hard, hard work. It's not the same as a demanding office job, it's not even comparable. Two different worlds. In fact, I'd often argue that the office job is easier, at least in the amount of begging, cleaning, arguing and tackling involved. If you're feeling overwhelmed, ask for help from your partner. And if and when he agrees to help, let him.
The image of the selfless mother who sacrifices every bit of her energy and sanity to raise her kids, with no help from anyone, is absolutely nuts. Don't allow this idealized vision of motherhood to stop you from asking for support and defending your own basic needs. You don't need to be oppressed to be a good mother. You know what you do need? Help. Every day. Find it wherever you can.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Affection is like a Structured Product
I don't know if you're familiar with structured products. I'm not. But as far as I understand, they're collections of investments (stick with me), whose dividends are paid out to investors in a certain order. The top category of investors gets paid first, then the next category down gets paid, and if there's any money left in there, the last group gets paid. If the fund runs out of money after paying the top category, too bad for the other investors. Depending on the investment strategy and the state of the economy, sometimes there is plenty of money in there for everybody, and sometimes there's not.
I've come to think of my stores of affection and patience like a structured product. Little Mabel gets the first payout. Penny gets the next payout. And my poor husband is in the last category.
So, when the affection/patience economy is good, when I'm rested and happy and feeling good about my life, everybody gets their whole share. But when the affection/patience economy is bad, when I'm tired, sad, disappointed or overwhelmed, there isn't enough to go around. D is the first one to suffer from the bad affection/patience economy. It's not good, but he's pretty robust and he can usually take the hit.
The really bad times come when there isn't enough in the fund even to pay out all of what Penny needs. She can sense when the attention/patience fund is running low, and when she sees it coming, she digs in and tries to squeeze out as much as she can before I cut her off. She climbs all over me, digging her toes into my shin bones and attacking me with hugs that have anger behind them. I see that she needs affection, so I try to scrape the bottom of the barrel for something extra to give her, and the more I try, the more exhausted I get, and the faster the reserves are drained.
Usually, when there's nothing left, I say something like "that's it, mommy needs a break, you have to get off me now." And the kicker is that after I do that, my first instinct is to pick up Mabel and distribute the reserve affection that structurally belongs only to her, because I'm so scared of running so low that I don't even have enough for the baby. Penny sees that and, understandably, gets even more pissed. Sigh.
It would probably be wise for me to have some kind of alert that goes off when the fund is running low, but not perilously low. It would say to me "Hey, you're not going to have enough to pay out all the investors, so you better do something now to replenish the reserves." And at that point, before I get into the impatience/anger spiral, I would take a break, give myself whatever I'm missing, and improve the affection/patience economy, lifting all the boats, so to speak.
I wish I could do that, because the worst part of all this is that it's not personal. It's not that I care less about D than I do about Penny, or that I care about Penny less than I do about Mabel. It's just that they're ranked in order of neediness. But yet, when the fund is emptied before someone gets their whole payout, that person understandably feels like it's a personal slight. It must mean that I don't love them enough. And that's not it at all. I just sometimes run out of the affection and patience that is usually the best and easiest indicator of love.
I'm not sure if this realization helps anything. I certainly can't explain it to a 3-year old. But somewhere in my head it does help to remind me that I'm not a terrible person when I run out of affection for Penny, but still have some left for Mabel. It helps me remember that impatience isn't permanent. It reminds me why it's important to take care of myself, because it makes the whole economy stronger. And it makes it clear to me how lucky I am to have a husband who can handle being in the last-paid group all the time and still find it in his heart to hold out for the flush days.
Most of all, it allows me to forgive myself for not being everything for everyone all the time. And the easier it is to forgive myself, the better the affection/patience economy performs.
I've come to think of my stores of affection and patience like a structured product. Little Mabel gets the first payout. Penny gets the next payout. And my poor husband is in the last category.
So, when the affection/patience economy is good, when I'm rested and happy and feeling good about my life, everybody gets their whole share. But when the affection/patience economy is bad, when I'm tired, sad, disappointed or overwhelmed, there isn't enough to go around. D is the first one to suffer from the bad affection/patience economy. It's not good, but he's pretty robust and he can usually take the hit.
The really bad times come when there isn't enough in the fund even to pay out all of what Penny needs. She can sense when the attention/patience fund is running low, and when she sees it coming, she digs in and tries to squeeze out as much as she can before I cut her off. She climbs all over me, digging her toes into my shin bones and attacking me with hugs that have anger behind them. I see that she needs affection, so I try to scrape the bottom of the barrel for something extra to give her, and the more I try, the more exhausted I get, and the faster the reserves are drained.
Usually, when there's nothing left, I say something like "that's it, mommy needs a break, you have to get off me now." And the kicker is that after I do that, my first instinct is to pick up Mabel and distribute the reserve affection that structurally belongs only to her, because I'm so scared of running so low that I don't even have enough for the baby. Penny sees that and, understandably, gets even more pissed. Sigh.
It would probably be wise for me to have some kind of alert that goes off when the fund is running low, but not perilously low. It would say to me "Hey, you're not going to have enough to pay out all the investors, so you better do something now to replenish the reserves." And at that point, before I get into the impatience/anger spiral, I would take a break, give myself whatever I'm missing, and improve the affection/patience economy, lifting all the boats, so to speak.
I wish I could do that, because the worst part of all this is that it's not personal. It's not that I care less about D than I do about Penny, or that I care about Penny less than I do about Mabel. It's just that they're ranked in order of neediness. But yet, when the fund is emptied before someone gets their whole payout, that person understandably feels like it's a personal slight. It must mean that I don't love them enough. And that's not it at all. I just sometimes run out of the affection and patience that is usually the best and easiest indicator of love.
I'm not sure if this realization helps anything. I certainly can't explain it to a 3-year old. But somewhere in my head it does help to remind me that I'm not a terrible person when I run out of affection for Penny, but still have some left for Mabel. It helps me remember that impatience isn't permanent. It reminds me why it's important to take care of myself, because it makes the whole economy stronger. And it makes it clear to me how lucky I am to have a husband who can handle being in the last-paid group all the time and still find it in his heart to hold out for the flush days.
Most of all, it allows me to forgive myself for not being everything for everyone all the time. And the easier it is to forgive myself, the better the affection/patience economy performs.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
It's Just A Phase
One of the hardest things to do as a mom is to remember that whatever is happening right now is not going to keep happening forever. It might stop happening in a month, or a week, or tomorrow, good or bad. And some new thing will take place of that current thing, and that current thing will disappear almost instantly from your mind.
Really, the thing that you spend all your energy worrying about right now is almost over. And when it's over, you will almost never think of it again.
In the spirit of remembering the temporariness of the current moment, here is a list of things that I have, at some point, been certain would never change, but did:
3 wakings every night
2 wakings every night
1 waking every night
3 tantrums a day
2 tantrums a day
1 tantrum a day
Tantrums in the grocery store
Tantrums at the park
Tantrums at the pool
Throwing food on the floor instead of eating it
Refusing to eat pizza
Eating a bag of yogurt melts every day
Refusing to eat without the tv on
Effusive love of Yo Gabba Gabba
The adorable bathtime game where Penny put hats on all her toys, kissed them all, and put them to bed
Pooping in diapers
Hitting friends instead of sharing
Going to sleep with a bottle
Going to sleep only after 3 songs, 3 stories and 40 minutes of rocking
Refusal to get dressed
Refusal to wear a coat
Refusal to wear a hat
Throwing things out of the stroller
Refusal to get in the stroller
Refusal to get in the carseat
Teething
And now the things that I currently think are permanent:
The girls going to bed at different times
Penny needing teddy, 2 lovies, a blanket and a light-up fish to go to sleep
Mabel needing nothing but her thumb
Asking Penny 5 times to take each bite of food
Asking Penny 5 times to get in the bath, brush her teeth, put on her pj's, and put her toys away
Attack hugs from Penny
Sweet, smiley tantrum-free baby Mabel
So I guess the lesson here is twofold.
1. The bad things that are happening now are not going to last, and they're not your fault as a mom, or your kid's fault in any real way. They're phases and they'll pass. Don't despair.
2. The good things that are happening now are not going to last, so love them with all you've got.
Really, the thing that you spend all your energy worrying about right now is almost over. And when it's over, you will almost never think of it again.
In the spirit of remembering the temporariness of the current moment, here is a list of things that I have, at some point, been certain would never change, but did:
3 wakings every night
2 wakings every night
1 waking every night
3 tantrums a day
2 tantrums a day
1 tantrum a day
Tantrums in the grocery store
Tantrums at the park
Tantrums at the pool
Throwing food on the floor instead of eating it
Refusing to eat pizza
Eating a bag of yogurt melts every day
Refusing to eat without the tv on
Effusive love of Yo Gabba Gabba
The adorable bathtime game where Penny put hats on all her toys, kissed them all, and put them to bed
Pooping in diapers
Hitting friends instead of sharing
Going to sleep with a bottle
Going to sleep only after 3 songs, 3 stories and 40 minutes of rocking
Refusal to get dressed
Refusal to wear a coat
Refusal to wear a hat
Throwing things out of the stroller
Refusal to get in the stroller
Refusal to get in the carseat
Teething
And now the things that I currently think are permanent:
The girls going to bed at different times
Penny needing teddy, 2 lovies, a blanket and a light-up fish to go to sleep
Mabel needing nothing but her thumb
Asking Penny 5 times to take each bite of food
Asking Penny 5 times to get in the bath, brush her teeth, put on her pj's, and put her toys away
Attack hugs from Penny
Sweet, smiley tantrum-free baby Mabel
So I guess the lesson here is twofold.
1. The bad things that are happening now are not going to last, and they're not your fault as a mom, or your kid's fault in any real way. They're phases and they'll pass. Don't despair.
2. The good things that are happening now are not going to last, so love them with all you've got.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
The Case Against Attachment Parenting
The last thing I want is to tell another mom that she's doing it wrong. The point of this blog has been that mothers shouldn't judge themselves so harshly, or feel so deeply vulnerable to outside judgement.
So I'm torn about writing a post about attachment parenting and the whole genre of "naturalistic" parenting that goes along with it. On one hand, for me, attachment parenting was a potent source of judgement and guilt, and I want to spare a new mom that suffering if I can. On the other hand, I do understand that some moms really love attachment parenting, it really makes sense for them, and they feel comfortable using it as a guiding rule. So, I'll just start by saying that what follows are the reasons attachment parenting didn't work for me and doesn't make sense to me anymore. If it works for you, more power to you. It's a good choice for some people. There are people I love and respect who still use it. However, if you're struggling with balancing the goals of attachment parenting with the reality of parenting in your household, if you feel overwhelmed and insufficient, this post is for you.
I was a very strongly-committed attachment parent when I was pregnant with Penny and followed it strictly for the first 14 months of her life. It was hard. I spent a lot of time severely sleep-deprived, feeling painfully guilty for failing to achieve or enjoy the selfless goals of attachment parenting, finally gave up, and then discovered that I could be a good mom, a better mom, a happier mom, when I wasn't trying to be a perfect "natural" mom.
Ironically, letting go of the strict naturalism of attachment parenting allowed me to behave more naturally with my kids. It allowed me to laugh at myself and my parenting travails instead of feeling that every misstep was an unnatural error that would have lasting impacts on the mental health of my daughter.
With a little distance, I was able to figure out what it was about attachment parenting that didn't make sense to me.
This is what I've come up with:
So I'm torn about writing a post about attachment parenting and the whole genre of "naturalistic" parenting that goes along with it. On one hand, for me, attachment parenting was a potent source of judgement and guilt, and I want to spare a new mom that suffering if I can. On the other hand, I do understand that some moms really love attachment parenting, it really makes sense for them, and they feel comfortable using it as a guiding rule. So, I'll just start by saying that what follows are the reasons attachment parenting didn't work for me and doesn't make sense to me anymore. If it works for you, more power to you. It's a good choice for some people. There are people I love and respect who still use it. However, if you're struggling with balancing the goals of attachment parenting with the reality of parenting in your household, if you feel overwhelmed and insufficient, this post is for you.
Ironically, letting go of the strict naturalism of attachment parenting allowed me to behave more naturally with my kids. It allowed me to laugh at myself and my parenting travails instead of feeling that every misstep was an unnatural error that would have lasting impacts on the mental health of my daughter.
With a little distance, I was able to figure out what it was about attachment parenting that didn't make sense to me.
This is what I've come up with:
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
The Myth of the Selfless Mother
One of the stories that most haunted me in my early days of parenting was one about African mothers who were shocked when they heard of American mothers leaving their children alone to sleep in a crib in their own rooms. These African mothers considered it unthinkably cruel. I took this assessment at face value (partly because it was supported by Dr. Sears - more on that later), and for months I worried about whether I was being cruel to my daughter in all my normal parenting activities.
I worried about it in moments when I just needed a minute alone to breathe and I left her in her crib, crying, when I was on the verge of crying too. In those moments when I was at the end of my rope, I managed to make myself feel worse by heaping guilt on top of inundation. That worry hung over every parenting decision I made. What I didn't spend one minute worrying about was whether I was being cruel to myself.
And none of the parenting books or discussion groups that I saw seemed to care about that either. Nobody ever asked, "Are you being kind to yourself?" It's just expected that a mother's self-respect and self-care should come after the respect and care of her children. But what kind of lessons are we teaching our children if we don't respect, care for and love ourselves? They learn by example. If we want them to respect themselves, not only do we have to respect them, but we have to show them what it looks like when a person respects herself. That includes sometimes putting your needs above those of your kids, and explaining exactly why.
So when those kids are crying and you just need a minute to make a cup of coffee, take a breath, and give yourself a little high five, take it. The kids can cry. They won't be destroyed. And they'll learn an important lesson about self-respect and self-care from the person they care about the most.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Hormones are assholes
So, I'm finally coming out of a cloud. For the last few weeks I've been feeling really weird and crappy. Tired, short-fused, anxious, sad, absent-minded. I was forgetting everything, I actually totally missed a doctor appointment for Penny (no, I'm not pregnant). And I was more scared than usual that Penny was going to get a catastrophic injury doing her normal stuff. I made her leave the playground after 10 minutes because I couldn't deal with watching her climb the ladder.
Two weeks ago, in the middle of FAO Schwartz, with two gleeful and cooperative girls and no tantrums in sight, after a full night of sleep, all I wanted was to lay down on the floor and go to sleep.
I went to the gym to try to clear my head, and while I was running I had an epiphany: I just stopped nursing Mabel 3 weeks ago.
So I came home and googled weaning and depression. And I found this and this and this. And a bunch of other stuff that all said the same thing. Weaning can cause hormone-induced depression. It's a withdrawal from ocytocin and prolactin. Nobody told me about this. And it didn't happen with Penny. But all of a sudden, my hormones are definitely being super bitchy.
I just wanted to put this out there because I had no idea this was even a thing. But it's a huge relief to know I wasn't going crazy and it's just those dickhead hormones. Also, after 3 weeks, I'm finally feeling better and things feel so much less desperate and surreal. So just a heads up, mama. If you weren't already being attacked by strangers and overly-interested friends and family members and parenting books for weaning your kid, you might also be attacked by your own endocrine system. But you're still a good mom. And it gets better.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Psychological perfection
The scariest part of parenting is the thought that our kids will be permanently psychologically damaged by us. All those parenting books sure make it sound like if we do one thing wrong- one unkind word, one minute of unattended crying, one act of misbehavior unpunished, one over-(or-under-)protected trip down the slide, we will be personally responsible for the unkind, self-conscious, selfish and impolite person our child will inevitably become. We moms are the cause of our society's social and psychological undoing. Our job is to create psychologically perfect children. Anything less, we've failed.
But take comfort in this: your parents probably didn't do a perfect job raising you, no? And you're pretty great. Yes, there are probably some things you'd like to change about yourself, things that you don't want your kids to carry around. But every person on the planet feels the same way. Nobody loves every part of themselves. Nobody feels psychologically perfect. Because that is impossible.
And it's impossible for your kids to be psychologically perfect too.
D and I try to teach kindness and respect by being kind and respectful to each other and to our kids. But nobody is kind and respectful all the time. We fail almost every day.
Sometimes you get mad or frustrated or impatient or unreasonable. Sometimes so do your kids. Every time that happens, please don't berate yourself for being a bad role model or treating your child unfairly or failing to implement the gazillion parenting rules you've been sent by well-meaning friends and relatives.
Try to relax and remember that the world is not a perfect place, and a psychologically perfect child can't possibly exist in all this mess. Let them see the mess of the world, including the mess that is you, and remember that they'll be fine. Those kids have a great mom. You're smart, kind, generous and fair. Sometimes you lose it, because you're human, but most of the time you're trying to provide a safe home where everybody knows they're loved.
And depending on their personalities, events that happen in their lives, and yes, your influence, your kids will probably, at various points, feel anxious, sad, even depressed. They'll have really dark days, and they'll be unfair to the people they love sometimes. They'll have unhealthy romantic relationships. They'll have unreasonable expectations, and feel frustrated when those are disappointed. They'll lose perspective. They'll fail at something they really try hard to do. They'll get furious at you for reasons they can't explain. Some days, they'll have no hope left. And you can't protect them from any of those things. You can't fix those things. You had to go through them too, and you came through the other side.
So try to save the energy it takes to berate yourself for not lavishing appropriate praise on a piece of your kid's art, or not patiently talking through your kid's refusal to put on clothes for the hundredth time this morning. It's ok to be imperfect yourself, because your kid is imperfect too. She always will be. And it's not your fault.
The kindest thing you can do for both of you is just to be a fellow traveler down the road of imperfection with your kid. Let her know you're there too. And that you're stumbling along together.
D and I try to teach kindness and respect by being kind and respectful to each other and to our kids. But nobody is kind and respectful all the time. We fail almost every day.
Sometimes you get mad or frustrated or impatient or unreasonable. Sometimes so do your kids. Every time that happens, please don't berate yourself for being a bad role model or treating your child unfairly or failing to implement the gazillion parenting rules you've been sent by well-meaning friends and relatives.
Try to relax and remember that the world is not a perfect place, and a psychologically perfect child can't possibly exist in all this mess. Let them see the mess of the world, including the mess that is you, and remember that they'll be fine. Those kids have a great mom. You're smart, kind, generous and fair. Sometimes you lose it, because you're human, but most of the time you're trying to provide a safe home where everybody knows they're loved.
And depending on their personalities, events that happen in their lives, and yes, your influence, your kids will probably, at various points, feel anxious, sad, even depressed. They'll have really dark days, and they'll be unfair to the people they love sometimes. They'll have unhealthy romantic relationships. They'll have unreasonable expectations, and feel frustrated when those are disappointed. They'll lose perspective. They'll fail at something they really try hard to do. They'll get furious at you for reasons they can't explain. Some days, they'll have no hope left. And you can't protect them from any of those things. You can't fix those things. You had to go through them too, and you came through the other side.
So try to save the energy it takes to berate yourself for not lavishing appropriate praise on a piece of your kid's art, or not patiently talking through your kid's refusal to put on clothes for the hundredth time this morning. It's ok to be imperfect yourself, because your kid is imperfect too. She always will be. And it's not your fault.
The kindest thing you can do for both of you is just to be a fellow traveler down the road of imperfection with your kid. Let her know you're there too. And that you're stumbling along together.
Monday, August 20, 2012
Hiding the formula
I'm a little late to this, but check out this story about Mayor Bloomberg asking hospitals in NYC to lock up their formula, so that women can't get access to it without listening to a "mandatory speech about why breast is best." This reminds me of those crazy pro-life enforced ultrasounds. "Perhaps you don't know what's best for you my dear. Let me explain how exactly you're doing it wrong."
This is a voluntary initiative that starts in September, but virtually all the hospitals in the city are participating, including the one where I delivered both girls.
I'm no anti-breastfeeding zealot, I nursed Penny for 12 months and Mabel for 6 months. Both times I decided to wean after making informed decisions about what was best for my family. Which I, as a functioning human being, am totally capable of doing.
In the hospital after Mabel was born, however, she spent the second night there crying inconsolably for hours. I knew she was hungry, I knew my milk had not yet come in. She was miserable. I was exhausted, in considerable amounts of pain, already sleep-deprived and worried that I wouldn't be able to take care of both Penny and Mabel if I didn't get at least a little sleep my last night in the hospital. So I asked the nurse for a bottle of formula. It was given to me without a lecture. Mabel drank it. She slept for 5 hours and so did I. The next morning, my milk had come in and we were on our way forward with many months of exclusive breastfeeding.
Whatever its good intentions, this policy means that a sleep-deprived, physically exhausted woman in pain has to undergo additional guilt and judgement from the people she should be able to trust the most (her medical caregivers), simply because we don't trust women to be informed about the costs and benefits of a bottle of formula for a very hungry baby.
I'm totally on board with prohibiting those gift bags and advertisements and the like. That stuff does seem a little much. But hiding the formula and forcing a lecture on those who ask for it? Come on. Give the moms a break. They're, amazingly, usually not idiots.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
State or Trait?
Letter to the Mother Judger:
Here's a nice, easy way to tamp down that mommy judgement. When you feel it coming, when you see that mom that just makes you shake your head, roll your eyes, and stew in your superiority, first pause.
Then consider the difference between state and trait. Psychologists use this distinction to differentiate between a temporary condition (state), and a permanent condition (trait).
So, a lady is yelling at her 5 year old in the subway station.
Is your first assessment of this woman that she is a bad mom (trait) or that she is a nice woman having a really bad day (state)? In the first case, you get to feel superior. In the second case, you get to feel sympathy, and maybe even offer her some.
Try to limit your evaluations to a person's states, not their traits.
Here's a nice, easy way to tamp down that mommy judgement. When you feel it coming, when you see that mom that just makes you shake your head, roll your eyes, and stew in your superiority, first pause.
Then consider the difference between state and trait. Psychologists use this distinction to differentiate between a temporary condition (state), and a permanent condition (trait).
So, a lady is yelling at her 5 year old in the subway station.
Is your first assessment of this woman that she is a bad mom (trait) or that she is a nice woman having a really bad day (state)? In the first case, you get to feel superior. In the second case, you get to feel sympathy, and maybe even offer her some.
Try to limit your evaluations to a person's states, not their traits.
Friday, August 17, 2012
The Meanest Mommy in the World
So I know I'm all about not judging moms and trusting them to do the best they can, and also not judging yourself too harshly, and knowing everything will work out in the end, but.
I think I'm the meanest mommy in the world today.
I slept poorly, I'm stressed about a whole list of things that are all ganging up on me, and Penny knows D and I are going out to dinner tonight so she's been super duper clingy all morning. And whiny. And demanding that we do art together, and makeup together, and that I put her clothes on her. None of these things are terrible hardships for a mother, but for me, today, this morning, I just want her to amuse herself with her crayons, let me put on my makeup in peace, and practice putting her clothes on herself, which she knows how to do, but refuses. So she literally follows me around the apartment, crying "mommy I want you to take care of me!" and I'm such a mean mommy that I say "no."
Sigh.
In my head there's a perfect mommy, lovingly drawing with Penny, handing her the makeup brush and letting her get all messy with lipstick like a montage scene in a movie, and kindly dressing her and then giving her a hug and sending her off with the babysitter, perfectly happy and satisfied with the balanced and generous mothering she's received.
But I guess that mom is also not tired, not stressed, and then, not me. And not even human really. She's like the perfect mommy robot whose only emotions are love and forgiveness. She can't feel anger or sadness or exhaustion or fear. Those are scary emotions, particularly when they come out of women. And there it is again. That bubbling up of what women should be. Right there in my own head, messing with my own family.
I think I'm the meanest mommy in the world today.
I slept poorly, I'm stressed about a whole list of things that are all ganging up on me, and Penny knows D and I are going out to dinner tonight so she's been super duper clingy all morning. And whiny. And demanding that we do art together, and makeup together, and that I put her clothes on her. None of these things are terrible hardships for a mother, but for me, today, this morning, I just want her to amuse herself with her crayons, let me put on my makeup in peace, and practice putting her clothes on herself, which she knows how to do, but refuses. So she literally follows me around the apartment, crying "mommy I want you to take care of me!" and I'm such a mean mommy that I say "no."
Sigh.
In my head there's a perfect mommy, lovingly drawing with Penny, handing her the makeup brush and letting her get all messy with lipstick like a montage scene in a movie, and kindly dressing her and then giving her a hug and sending her off with the babysitter, perfectly happy and satisfied with the balanced and generous mothering she's received.
But I guess that mom is also not tired, not stressed, and then, not me. And not even human really. She's like the perfect mommy robot whose only emotions are love and forgiveness. She can't feel anger or sadness or exhaustion or fear. Those are scary emotions, particularly when they come out of women. And there it is again. That bubbling up of what women should be. Right there in my own head, messing with my own family.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Who is it you picture doing it wrong?
To the person criticizing the new mom for bottle-feeding:
Who is it you picture when you imagine this mom who needs your instruction? What does she look like? The mom who is irresponsibly feeding her children bottles without even considering the benefits of breastfeeding? Has she never heard of breastfeeding? How is that possible? Is she incredibly stupid, deprived, uneducated, ill-informed, selfish? I'm just wondering these things because it's important for us to determine who we're talking about when we engage in wide-ranging bromides on the benefits and importance of breast-feeding. If you have any faith and confidence in the mothers who are making the decisions about whether to breastfeed, you will trust them to do what's right for their family, after obtaining the information they need to make a reasoned decision. If you don't trust them to get that information, what is your stereotype of the generic mother? And now that you have identified that in your head, are you ok with it?
We say we trust women with their bodies, but we decidedly don't trust them with their babies. And doesn't that imply a deep distrust of women in general, bubbling up again as it always does?
Who is it you picture when you imagine this mom who needs your instruction? What does she look like? The mom who is irresponsibly feeding her children bottles without even considering the benefits of breastfeeding? Has she never heard of breastfeeding? How is that possible? Is she incredibly stupid, deprived, uneducated, ill-informed, selfish? I'm just wondering these things because it's important for us to determine who we're talking about when we engage in wide-ranging bromides on the benefits and importance of breast-feeding. If you have any faith and confidence in the mothers who are making the decisions about whether to breastfeed, you will trust them to do what's right for their family, after obtaining the information they need to make a reasoned decision. If you don't trust them to get that information, what is your stereotype of the generic mother? And now that you have identified that in your head, are you ok with it?
We say we trust women with their bodies, but we decidedly don't trust them with their babies. And doesn't that imply a deep distrust of women in general, bubbling up again as it always does?
Because why
I used to hear people complain about the incessant "why"s coming out of their 3 year olds and think, "Just suck it up. It's an honest question and a quest for knowledge. Tell them the answer and move on."
Oh ho ho ho! Have I been punished by the God of Judgmental Parents!
Penny has turned into a relentless, unforgiving interrogator. Sometimes she brings me to tears.
Another lesson in withholding parenting judgement until you've been through it.
Oh ho ho ho! Have I been punished by the God of Judgmental Parents!
Penny has turned into a relentless, unforgiving interrogator. Sometimes she brings me to tears.
Another lesson in withholding parenting judgement until you've been through it.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
You're crying for good reasons
Letter from a New Mom:
Poor O came into my room this morning (he's been going home at night - no need for him to be getting poor sleep here when I have the nurse staff to help me) and I burst into tears when I saw him. I had a rougher night with the babies - R was being a bit uncooperative with the breastfeeding and while I ultimately got her to do it (she just wouldn't latch on), I started thinking about how in the world I'll take care of TWO babies once the extra help leaves, O goes back to work, etc. And it just felt completely overwhelming.
Letter to a New Mom:
Poor O came into my room this morning (he's been going home at night - no need for him to be getting poor sleep here when I have the nurse staff to help me) and I burst into tears when I saw him. I had a rougher night with the babies - R was being a bit uncooperative with the breastfeeding and while I ultimately got her to do it (she just wouldn't latch on), I started thinking about how in the world I'll take care of TWO babies once the extra help leaves, O goes back to work, etc. And it just felt completely overwhelming.
Letter to a New Mom:
Just remember there are a few things working against your emotional composure.
1. HORMONES. That's no joke.
2. Fear of the unknown, massive project you've just started, and the natural feeling of being overwhelmed.
3. The realization that at some point, you are the last man standing on childcare.
Two kids at once
Letter from a New Mom:
We had a required discharge class at the hospital tonight (for everyone who is leaving the next day) and it made me nervous to think about all of the stuff that I don't know - like what to do if the babies get sick, what in the world I will do if both are upset at the same time, etc. BUT I am trying to remind myself to not think too far in advance and just take one step at a time.
Letter to a New Mom:
You're absolutely right that you have to take it one step at a time. You're a smart, compassionate, caring person. You will figure out what to do with things as they come up.
Kids get sick? Call the pediatrician. That's what they're there for. You're not expected to be a doctor on top of being a mom.
We had a required discharge class at the hospital tonight (for everyone who is leaving the next day) and it made me nervous to think about all of the stuff that I don't know - like what to do if the babies get sick, what in the world I will do if both are upset at the same time, etc. BUT I am trying to remind myself to not think too far in advance and just take one step at a time.
Letter to a New Mom:
You're absolutely right that you have to take it one step at a time. You're a smart, compassionate, caring person. You will figure out what to do with things as they come up.
Kids get sick? Call the pediatrician. That's what they're there for. You're not expected to be a doctor on top of being a mom.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Motherhood Mantra: I Don't Judge
See the lady dragging her screaming child by the arm, the mother's face flushed with rage? I don't judge. I don't know what her day was like. I don't know what that child just did, or to whom, or how many times, or how many other methods she already tried to calm the kid down, or what kind of hurry they're in.
Hear a mom call her 10 year old an asshole? I don't judge. I don't know how that kid has been acting all day, or week, or what the mom has had to eat today, if anything, or how much sleep she's on, or if they've all been having a hard time lately.
Hear a mom call her 10 year old an asshole? I don't judge. I don't know how that kid has been acting all day, or week, or what the mom has had to eat today, if anything, or how much sleep she's on, or if they've all been having a hard time lately.
The Rule of Three
I recently discovered why it always seems like I'm doing everything wrong as a mom.
Basically, parenting theories fall into three categories:
1. Be compassionate and respectful of your child's feelings.
2. Be firm and prioritize enforcing rules and limits swiftly, punishing bad behavior.
3. Be consistent.
The trick is that you can never successfully accomplish all three of these things. You can do 1 and 3, and violate 2. You can do 2 and 3, and violate 1. Or you can do 1 and 2 and violate 3. So at every step in Penny's young life, it is possible for me to bring to mind a widely accepted parenting theory that would tell me that I'm doing it wrong. We are set up for failure. So maybe we should just embrace all the inevitable "failure" that's really just the messiness of life, and stop beating ourselves (and each other) up.
Basically, parenting theories fall into three categories:
1. Be compassionate and respectful of your child's feelings.
2. Be firm and prioritize enforcing rules and limits swiftly, punishing bad behavior.
3. Be consistent.
The trick is that you can never successfully accomplish all three of these things. You can do 1 and 3, and violate 2. You can do 2 and 3, and violate 1. Or you can do 1 and 2 and violate 3. So at every step in Penny's young life, it is possible for me to bring to mind a widely accepted parenting theory that would tell me that I'm doing it wrong. We are set up for failure. So maybe we should just embrace all the inevitable "failure" that's really just the messiness of life, and stop beating ourselves (and each other) up.
It's a long haul - worrying about princesses
I have a few friends who have recently found out they're having girls, and every one of them has said something to the effect of "I'm so worried about all that pink princess stuff, I just don't like the message they send, I don't want her to wear pink because I don't want her to be a passive weak girl, and how do I teach her to respect herself when she's 16?" It's so hard to explain this because I felt exactly this way before Penny was born, and I don't know if what I'm about to say would have made sense to me at the time. But here goes anyway.
Baby names
I know it's a really big deal to choose a name, and it can be really stressful and seem impossible when you can't think of the perfect one. And you think of all the things each name means to you, and how it sounds, and how someone could mistake it or mess it up, or it could mean something slightly different than you mean, etc. I went through that choosing Penny's name. But what I found was that all the things you currently have associated with every name in the world will very quickly disappear as soon as you meet (and name) your baby. Once it's your baby's name, and you know your baby, that is the only thing that name will mean from then on. I am constantly forgetting that a penny (the coin) is the same word as Penny. In my mind, Penny is just the name of my daughter, and all the other associations it used to have are totally gone. So, my point is that choosing a name is important, but it's not as consequential as you think (as long as you don't choose a crazy name). The name becomes your kid so quickly, and once it's your kid, you love it and can't imagine anything else.
Friday, July 27, 2012
Douche bosses
Letter from a Pregnant Friend:
My immediate boss very unexpectedly announced that she is leaving – her last day here is going to be my c-section date. I think she is likely leaving because our office generally works private sector hours but forgoes that pay and we contend with the kind of inflexible government hours that Anne-Marie Slaughter discussed in her Atlantic piece. Anyway, I had talked to her about taking a bit of time off on the heels of coming back from maternity leave and she was generally OK with it, but now that I’ll have a new boss who has never met me, I’m concerned about my ability to commit to taking time off. There is a bit of weirdness around here about face time and I am already feeling like some people think I am taking more time off for maternity leave than I should – and one of them is the primary boss in my office, who commented to me last week that he’s jealous of the extended “vacation” I am about to take. I had to restrain myself from responding quite harshly that this will be anything but a vacation……
Letter to a Pregnant Friend:
My immediate boss very unexpectedly announced that she is leaving – her last day here is going to be my c-section date. I think she is likely leaving because our office generally works private sector hours but forgoes that pay and we contend with the kind of inflexible government hours that Anne-Marie Slaughter discussed in her Atlantic piece. Anyway, I had talked to her about taking a bit of time off on the heels of coming back from maternity leave and she was generally OK with it, but now that I’ll have a new boss who has never met me, I’m concerned about my ability to commit to taking time off. There is a bit of weirdness around here about face time and I am already feeling like some people think I am taking more time off for maternity leave than I should – and one of them is the primary boss in my office, who commented to me last week that he’s jealous of the extended “vacation” I am about to take. I had to restrain myself from responding quite harshly that this will be anything but a vacation……
Letter to a Pregnant Friend:
Your boss actually called maternity leave a vacation???? I hope at least you offered a raised eyebrow!! In the wake of all the talk about women in the workplace, I would think that your boss would have the tiniest iota of sense to know that dumping on the work of mothers is A.Not in fashion these days and B.Incredibly insensitive and demeaning to a very productive and valuable employee whose services he certainly wants to keep. He would never dream of calling it vacation if you had to take a few days off to plan a family member's funeral. Because that might offend you so much you would no longer tolerate his insensitive bullshit and leave the company. But taking care of two infants at once? What a breeze! Nobody thinks that would be hard! I've never heard of newborn twins being anything but a total vacation! Hoo. This is making me mad.
Please, if you can't argue your case directly to your boss, at the very least do argue your case to yourself so that you are not even remotely contaminated by this poisonous and degrading thought. You are doing the valuable work of creating and nurturing the next generation of human beings. You are vitally important to the world, AND to the company. If your boss can't appreciate the fact that you are about to take on 2 full time jobs while he complains about his one job, then please dismiss him and his ignorant and lazy thoughts with all the power of your brain. You are doing important work in two places. If he can't understand that, pity his ignorance, and rest in the knowledge that he can't legally fire you.
Please, if you can't argue your case directly to your boss, at the very least do argue your case to yourself so that you are not even remotely contaminated by this poisonous and degrading thought. You are doing the valuable work of creating and nurturing the next generation of human beings. You are vitally important to the world, AND to the company. If your boss can't appreciate the fact that you are about to take on 2 full time jobs while he complains about his one job, then please dismiss him and his ignorant and lazy thoughts with all the power of your brain. You are doing important work in two places. If he can't understand that, pity his ignorance, and rest in the knowledge that he can't legally fire you.
To schedule a C-section or not
Letter from a Pregnant Friend:
The big decision du jour has been concerning whether to schedule a c-section or not and we’re leaning toward going the c-section route – which is somewhat disappointing, if not surprising. Baby A, the first baby out of the door, is head down, but Baby B is breach and given the lack of space in their abode, she is unlikely to turn (she basically can’t!). My doctor has been very supportive of me trying to push the babies out if I decide to, but from what I’ve read and learned over the last week, it seems really likely that they’d have to do an emergency C to get B out – and that is exactly what I’d like to avoid.
Letter to a Pregnant Friend:
The big decision du jour has been concerning whether to schedule a c-section or not and we’re leaning toward going the c-section route – which is somewhat disappointing, if not surprising. Baby A, the first baby out of the door, is head down, but Baby B is breach and given the lack of space in their abode, she is unlikely to turn (she basically can’t!). My doctor has been very supportive of me trying to push the babies out if I decide to, but from what I’ve read and learned over the last week, it seems really likely that they’d have to do an emergency C to get B out – and that is exactly what I’d like to avoid.
Letter to a Pregnant Friend:
I'm just going to tell you the things I would be thinking about, but really, if you're already decided, please just totally disregard what I'm saying. If you've made up your mind, just stick with that. So I'm just going to write the next part in Choose Your Own Adventure format:
Brag-complaints
Letter from a Pregnant Friend:
Letter to a Pregnant Friend:
Here's the problem with saying that stuff. Technically, it's true. Life will change a lot, you will get less sleep, less opportunities to go out to dinner and movies, and two babies is a different kind of tough than being pregnant with twins (though I'm not sure I'd agree that it's harder, just a different kind of hard). But when people say things like that, they're kind of bragging. Because the rest of the truth is that they're proud of what they've accomplished, they love their kids, and while they do miss having more freedom with their evenings, they usually like being parents. They always tell you about the hard parts, and leave out all the good stuff. Leaving you sitting there thinking you're in for nothing but miserable longing for the past. And that implication is a lie.
I’m catching myself having more feelings of anxiety about what in the world it will be like once the twins arrive. Just the combination of me having no real idea what to expect, but knowing that it will be really hard is a bit terrifying. I also know I’ll have moments where I think back on life, pre-children, and really pine for those days.
Not helping matters is that I just got an email from a friend here with twins who just said the following in an email to me:
I can't believe you are already at 33 weeks. Oh man, how life is going to change. I hope you are sleeping in, going to dinner, and seeing movies while you can. ;)
Blech. I don’t need to hear that.
Letter to a Pregnant Friend:
Here's the problem with saying that stuff. Technically, it's true. Life will change a lot, you will get less sleep, less opportunities to go out to dinner and movies, and two babies is a different kind of tough than being pregnant with twins (though I'm not sure I'd agree that it's harder, just a different kind of hard). But when people say things like that, they're kind of bragging. Because the rest of the truth is that they're proud of what they've accomplished, they love their kids, and while they do miss having more freedom with their evenings, they usually like being parents. They always tell you about the hard parts, and leave out all the good stuff. Leaving you sitting there thinking you're in for nothing but miserable longing for the past. And that implication is a lie.
Hospital bag tips
I "packed" our bag a month before my due date, just in case. And by packed I mean I put the very few things that I don't need every day in there, and then I wrote a list and kept it on top of the bag, so that when it was time to pack I wouldn't have to remember anything. Just read the list, do what it says, and go. That means you really should write down everything, even the obvious things, because you don't want to be searching your brain when you're in labor. So write down phone, phone charger. Also, write the toiletries out item by item. And when you pack something, cross it off so you don't go around looking for it and forget it's already in there.
Hospital and nursing clothing
As for the hospital, they say to bring clothes that you wore when you were 5 months pregnant. I think that's a fair suggestion, except that those clothes are usually no longer seasonally appropriate. I recommend loose yoga pants in dark colors. Or, really, maternity pants. I wore my maternity jeans for a couple months, as depressing as that sounds. But it's really the most reasonable thing to do. It will feel REALLY GOOD to get into normal clothes after wearing hospital gowns for however long you're wearing them in labor/pre-post-labor-shower (pack flip flops and nice shampoo and soap for that shower, it's the best shower in the history of showers). So bring clothes that you like and that make you feel like you. Soft, stretchy ones. But dark clothes because post-labor is messy. And some loose shirts. Tight belly-showing things become a whole lot less cute after there are no more babies in there.
Registry
I wrote this for a friend a couple years ago, and I've made a couple tweaks in recent years, and a few more today. This is for a singleton, but I would think it would be useful in duplicate, too! Also, I didn't address strollers, let me know if you want me to go there.
Useful:
1. Dozens of cloth diapers for burp cloths (can't stress this one enough - gerber ones are cheap and good)
2. this seat for travel and restaurants. or something like it. there have been some recalls, so make sure you get the most recent version.
3. A bunch of infant ibuprofen, it's the kind of thing that you don't want to be without when you need it. and the infant tylenol was recently linked to increased risk of asthma. so stick with the ibuprofen. also get those mylicon gas drops. you never know when a screaming newborn is just gassy.
Useful:
1. Dozens of cloth diapers for burp cloths (can't stress this one enough - gerber ones are cheap and good)
2. this seat for travel and restaurants. or something like it. there have been some recalls, so make sure you get the most recent version.
3. A bunch of infant ibuprofen, it's the kind of thing that you don't want to be without when you need it. and the infant tylenol was recently linked to increased risk of asthma. so stick with the ibuprofen. also get those mylicon gas drops. you never know when a screaming newborn is just gassy.
Worries about getting big
Letter from Pregnant Friend:
Making my neurosis worse was a dinner with friends we had last week. The husband, who I do really like, went on and on about how he can’t imagine how big I’m going to get, that I seem too small to carry two babies, etc. I had to restrain myself from slapping him and reminding him that I am very anxious about those things.
Letter to Pregnant Friend:
Honestly, I don't know what it'll be like to have twins. Knowing you, they probably won't be massively huge kids. But really, even if you have reasonably sized babies, or even, like me, just one nearly 8 lb baby, you are definitely going to be uncomfortable at the end. You will certainly, without a doubt, be large and cumbersome and achy. It will come. And then it will pass. And then you will have a family. And they will be gorgeous, sweet-smelling, adorable, intensely lovable tiny things. And you'll forget all about the few achy uncomfortable weeks. I know it sounds like a fantasy right now, and it'll feel like a fantasy until the moment they're born, but it's real, they're real, and they're worth it. The end of pregnancy is just the price you pay for meeting your healthy happy amazing babies. So, yes, expect to be big and feel gross. Embrace it. And try not to worry too much about how bad it will be. You'll manage. You're a tough lady, and you can definitely endure it.
Baby sleep
I think second babies are often calmer because the parents are calmer and because they have less time to respond to every peep. Our new pediatrician, whom I love because they actually give baby care advice beyond basic medical stuff, has really helped me better deal with Mabel's fussy times. With Penny, I was totally on my own to figure out what to do about fussiness and sleep. So I ended up falling into the attachment parenting trap, which sounds like the most sensible, kindest way to raise kids, but is actually impossible for a working mom without a village of helpers, and piles huge amounts of guilt on you when you inevitably fail. I'm pretty mad about it now, and strongly recommend against it.
Birth is just the beginning
One thing I half-learned in my first labor and fully learned from my second is that the birth is just a way to get the baby out. It's a giant mistake to focus too much on the birth experience and forget about the baby (babies) that you have to care for immediately after. If I had really been focused on my drug-free birth this time, I could have refused the pitocin and stayed up all night waiting for my labor to get going. And then I would be absolutely exhausted and caring for a newborn. I learned the first time how much that sucks. It actually affects the first few weeks of motherhood, and made me miserable instead of allowing me to enjoy my baby. My opinion now: get the baby out in the healthiest way for you and the baby, without disrupting your life unnecessarily, allowing you to be as present as possible for your new kids. Mothering is more important than birthing. A million times more important.
Right after I got the epidural this time, Mabel's heart rate dropped crazy fast and 5 doctors ran into the room. I didn't know I was 3 pushes away from meeting her, and I thought to myself, I'm probably about to have a c-section. And I felt totally peaceful and comfortable with it (only partly because of the drugs :) ). All i wanted was to meet her and keep her safe. I think worrying about the birth too much is ultimately making it all about you. Focusing on the kid is a much better introduction to motherhood.
You're Not Lazy, You're Pregnant
Letter to a Pregnant Friend:
As for the feeling lazy around the house, I found I just had to embrace it. It's still hard when I feel like D is doing more than I am around the house, but you have to remind yourself: He's Not Making A Human Being. Lay down and let your body work, know that it's working so much harder than it ever has, than O's ever will, and that you need to honor that. If it makes you feel better, tell O what you're thinking, "I know I didn't get to those dishes, but I really need to lay down right now, I feel like garbage", but the most important thing is that you appreciate how hard your body is working, and count it as work. If you don't appreciate the work you're doing by making a person, no one will.
As for the feeling lazy around the house, I found I just had to embrace it. It's still hard when I feel like D is doing more than I am around the house, but you have to remind yourself: He's Not Making A Human Being. Lay down and let your body work, know that it's working so much harder than it ever has, than O's ever will, and that you need to honor that. If it makes you feel better, tell O what you're thinking, "I know I didn't get to those dishes, but I really need to lay down right now, I feel like garbage", but the most important thing is that you appreciate how hard your body is working, and count it as work. If you don't appreciate the work you're doing by making a person, no one will.
Childbirth options
Letter to a Pregnant Friend:
Natural childbirth is a great idea to try, it's extremely physically challenging and therefore extremely physically satisfying (in a way that I think anyone athletic can appreciate), but depending on the circumstances, it can get too hard. If things don't go the right way, you can end up in a situation where you can not calm down (I was there) and you are so tired and dehydrated and emotionally fucked that natural labor isn't going to work.
For me, I tried to do it naturally for 14 hours (6pm to 8am), and by then I was in a situation where if I DIDN'T get the epidural, I was looking at a c-section. I just really needed to rest and rehydrate, and unless I rested, I wasn't going to dilate past 8 cm. And that's a game-time decision that you don't have to make beforehand. It's perfectly acceptable to walk in with a birth plan that says you'd like to try it naturally until it's not working anymore and/or YOU decide it's time to stop (we had a code word for when I wanted to get the epidural, so I could still say "I can't do this" and not really mean it).
Natural childbirth is a great idea to try, it's extremely physically challenging and therefore extremely physically satisfying (in a way that I think anyone athletic can appreciate), but depending on the circumstances, it can get too hard. If things don't go the right way, you can end up in a situation where you can not calm down (I was there) and you are so tired and dehydrated and emotionally fucked that natural labor isn't going to work.
For me, I tried to do it naturally for 14 hours (6pm to 8am), and by then I was in a situation where if I DIDN'T get the epidural, I was looking at a c-section. I just really needed to rest and rehydrate, and unless I rested, I wasn't going to dilate past 8 cm. And that's a game-time decision that you don't have to make beforehand. It's perfectly acceptable to walk in with a birth plan that says you'd like to try it naturally until it's not working anymore and/or YOU decide it's time to stop (we had a code word for when I wanted to get the epidural, so I could still say "I can't do this" and not really mean it).
Bad Day
Letter to Pre-Pregnant Friend:
I had a really bad day yesterday with Penny. I actually broke down and cried. We've got a really destructive dynamic going where I get mad at her for doing something to intentionally piss me off (like repeatedly dumping her cheerios out of the stroller and then crying "i want my cheerios!") and then she gets mad at me for being mad and so she does something else to piss me off (dumping her water bottle out of the stroller, and her blanket, and her teddy bear) and then I get really mad and my fuse shortens to a stub and everything else she does from then on, mistake or no (smearing a tube of 10 dollar chapstick in her hair, spitting her dinner on the floor), makes me absolutely furious, making her furious and she ends up throwing things at me and I end up screaming "time out!!!" and shutting her in her room for 5 minutes. It was bad. D came home shortly after I put her in the bath and I told him to take over and went to my room and cried. Apparently, she told D "mommy mad. mommy really mad." And all i could think while I was laying there crying was, why couldn't I just be the bigger person and calm down first?? I AM the bigger person. She won't calm down unless I do, so why do I hold a grudge against a 2 year old?? What kind of terrible mother does that?? In fact, she was the one who calmed down first! After I was silently angry for a few minutes, she walked up and said "mommy, you ready for bathtime?" I don't know how we got into this situation where she decides when we're fighting and when we're getting along. Anyway, I know I'm objectively not a terrible mother, but it is hard to feel like I'm doing a good job after a day like that.
On the other hand, this morning she came in to wake me up with a kiss and a request to "get in mommy bed. how bout we snuggle." I guess it's all ups and downs.
I had a really bad day yesterday with Penny. I actually broke down and cried. We've got a really destructive dynamic going where I get mad at her for doing something to intentionally piss me off (like repeatedly dumping her cheerios out of the stroller and then crying "i want my cheerios!") and then she gets mad at me for being mad and so she does something else to piss me off (dumping her water bottle out of the stroller, and her blanket, and her teddy bear) and then I get really mad and my fuse shortens to a stub and everything else she does from then on, mistake or no (smearing a tube of 10 dollar chapstick in her hair, spitting her dinner on the floor), makes me absolutely furious, making her furious and she ends up throwing things at me and I end up screaming "time out!!!" and shutting her in her room for 5 minutes. It was bad. D came home shortly after I put her in the bath and I told him to take over and went to my room and cried. Apparently, she told D "mommy mad. mommy really mad." And all i could think while I was laying there crying was, why couldn't I just be the bigger person and calm down first?? I AM the bigger person. She won't calm down unless I do, so why do I hold a grudge against a 2 year old?? What kind of terrible mother does that?? In fact, she was the one who calmed down first! After I was silently angry for a few minutes, she walked up and said "mommy, you ready for bathtime?" I don't know how we got into this situation where she decides when we're fighting and when we're getting along. Anyway, I know I'm objectively not a terrible mother, but it is hard to feel like I'm doing a good job after a day like that.
On the other hand, this morning she came in to wake me up with a kiss and a request to "get in mommy bed. how bout we snuggle." I guess it's all ups and downs.
Thoughts on Pre-Baby Nervousness
Letter from Pre-Pregnant Friend:
The funny thing is, over the past couple of days, I have been getting really nervous about having a baby – i.e., whether we can do it, if the stress of a child is going to forever negatively impact O and my relationship, if I’ll totally wig out about gaining weight/watching my body change, if work + baby is going to equal me being a total stressbot, etc. I’m imagining that what set this off may be all of this work stress and the attendant feeling of not being able to keep my head above water when all I have to deal with is work. At the same time and at the risk of relying upon a child as a crutch, I’d kind of love to be able to say, “I have to leave at 6 pm because I have to take care of my child.” It would be nice to have something more important than work to deal with, even if that thing comes with its own very stressful issues. Does that make any sense?
Letter to Pre-Pregnant Friend:
Oh gosh, baby nervousness is inevitable. I was so work-unproductive when I was pregnant with Pen, mostly because I had just endured a ridiculous three years of grad school, but also because I was so amazed at what was happening to my body and wanted to read about it all day. Anyway, I found that I was actually more productive and efficient at working after Penny was born (well, after the nanny arrived when she was 5 months old).
Having a baby does give you an excuse to leave, but it also gives you perspective that you didn't have before. I spent a lot of time before Penny obsessing about my work and whether I was doing a good job and re-doing things I didn't think were good, and after she came along I just didn't put all that importance on work anymore. It was nice, actually. I still wanted to do a good job, but I didn't care so much about it being perfect. I had limited time, so I used it as well as I could, and I got done what I could get done, as quickly as possible. I also enjoyed it a lot more because it was quiet, focused time, which is very different from baby time. There was a frantic-ness about my work approach that disappeared. So even though it seems like you have a full plate and could never fit anything else on there, you just shuffle things around. You can definitely have a baby and a job and still be good at both (you just need help).
As for the other things you're worried about:
The funny thing is, over the past couple of days, I have been getting really nervous about having a baby – i.e., whether we can do it, if the stress of a child is going to forever negatively impact O and my relationship, if I’ll totally wig out about gaining weight/watching my body change, if work + baby is going to equal me being a total stressbot, etc. I’m imagining that what set this off may be all of this work stress and the attendant feeling of not being able to keep my head above water when all I have to deal with is work. At the same time and at the risk of relying upon a child as a crutch, I’d kind of love to be able to say, “I have to leave at 6 pm because I have to take care of my child.” It would be nice to have something more important than work to deal with, even if that thing comes with its own very stressful issues. Does that make any sense?
Letter to Pre-Pregnant Friend:
Oh gosh, baby nervousness is inevitable. I was so work-unproductive when I was pregnant with Pen, mostly because I had just endured a ridiculous three years of grad school, but also because I was so amazed at what was happening to my body and wanted to read about it all day. Anyway, I found that I was actually more productive and efficient at working after Penny was born (well, after the nanny arrived when she was 5 months old).
Having a baby does give you an excuse to leave, but it also gives you perspective that you didn't have before. I spent a lot of time before Penny obsessing about my work and whether I was doing a good job and re-doing things I didn't think were good, and after she came along I just didn't put all that importance on work anymore. It was nice, actually. I still wanted to do a good job, but I didn't care so much about it being perfect. I had limited time, so I used it as well as I could, and I got done what I could get done, as quickly as possible. I also enjoyed it a lot more because it was quiet, focused time, which is very different from baby time. There was a frantic-ness about my work approach that disappeared. So even though it seems like you have a full plate and could never fit anything else on there, you just shuffle things around. You can definitely have a baby and a job and still be good at both (you just need help).
As for the other things you're worried about:
Negative Pregnancy Test
Pre-Pregnant Friend:
So, still no period and I took another pregnancy test this morning, which was negative. This combined with cramps put me in a bad mood, which was made worse when O says to me as we are leaving the gym, “Wow, you’re clearly in a bad mood today.” YES, I AM! And I think you would be, too, if you had no f-ing clue about what is going on with your body and generally don’t like feeling that things are completely out of your control, which they absolutely are on this front.
Letter to Pre-Pregnant Friend:
Oh yes, I remember it well. Welcome to hormonal crazy times. Not to mention the extreme confusion of reacquainting yourself with your own body (and accompanying sense of failure that you don't already magically know your own body) and terror that you're somehow broken (because you've never tested this button before) and even, to be totally honest, some lingering fear of this whole life-changing baby-creating idea. So there's hormonal stuff going on for sure, but there's also a whole lot of totally legitimate stress and angst that you don't have to throw in the hormone bin of explanations.
So, still no period and I took another pregnancy test this morning, which was negative. This combined with cramps put me in a bad mood, which was made worse when O says to me as we are leaving the gym, “Wow, you’re clearly in a bad mood today.” YES, I AM! And I think you would be, too, if you had no f-ing clue about what is going on with your body and generally don’t like feeling that things are completely out of your control, which they absolutely are on this front.
Letter to Pre-Pregnant Friend:
Oh yes, I remember it well. Welcome to hormonal crazy times. Not to mention the extreme confusion of reacquainting yourself with your own body (and accompanying sense of failure that you don't already magically know your own body) and terror that you're somehow broken (because you've never tested this button before) and even, to be totally honest, some lingering fear of this whole life-changing baby-creating idea. So there's hormonal stuff going on for sure, but there's also a whole lot of totally legitimate stress and angst that you don't have to throw in the hormone bin of explanations.
Going off the Pill - thinking about the future
Letter to Pre-Pregnant Friend:
Yay for last pill!!
You asked for pregnancy resources. Honestly, it's so easy to get bogged down in this stuff. And there's always somebody telling you not to do things "just in case" which of course makes you feel guilty every time you so much as fart. One of my favorite resources once I got pregnant was this website which tells you what's going on week by week and does it in a very laid-back and funny way. In the same vein is the Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy. Basically makes light of the whole thing and makes you feel better for being human, and lets you know what to expect. I know your personality (it's a whole lot like mine :) ) and I think it's important for you to read things that give you an excuse to laugh and not judge yourself too much. You will get TONS of information from the random google searches you can't help but do every time something new happens or you eat a type of cheese that you're not ENTIRELY sure is "hard".
Yay for last pill!!
You asked for pregnancy resources. Honestly, it's so easy to get bogged down in this stuff. And there's always somebody telling you not to do things "just in case" which of course makes you feel guilty every time you so much as fart. One of my favorite resources once I got pregnant was this website which tells you what's going on week by week and does it in a very laid-back and funny way. In the same vein is the Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy. Basically makes light of the whole thing and makes you feel better for being human, and lets you know what to expect. I know your personality (it's a whole lot like mine :) ) and I think it's important for you to read things that give you an excuse to laugh and not judge yourself too much. You will get TONS of information from the random google searches you can't help but do every time something new happens or you eat a type of cheese that you're not ENTIRELY sure is "hard".
Thoughts on Mother Judging
Pre-Pregnant Friend:
On the subject of motherhood, I thought of you when I read this Erica Jong article in the WSJ. It's a bit repetitive, but I think the gist of it is spot-on and something that I imagine I will have to work on if and when I have a child (continuing on the theme of, "Don't beat yourself up for not adhering to the arbitrary vision of perfection that you have in your head"). I'd totally love to hear your thoughts on these types of issues, given that parenthood for O and me seems imminent - at least, in the sense that we're thinking we'll likely start the trying to have a baby thing in the fall. Yipes!
Letter to Pre-Pregnant Friend:
I loved that article. Thanks so much for sending it. I did read all the Sears stuff before Penny was born and I was totally gung-ho for attachment parenting. It's only been probably since she was around 10 months old that I stopped following the strict attachment parenting line. I stopped nursing her then, though I did pump until she was a year old out of breastfeeding guilt.
And I didn't let her cry at all at night until she was 14 months old because I didn't want to permanently damage her with the trauma of abandonment. And let me tell you, when we finally did let her cry, and she finally did sleep through the night, I almost instantly turned into a much better and more patient mom and wife because I was getting sleep. One of the things that I think attachment parenting doesn't give any weight to is the happiness of the mom. A happy and rested mom is a better and more patient mom. You can't stay up all night with your kid and be a nice loving person the next day. And I didn't connect those things. I just thought I was always angry because of some personality defect that I had. So for Penny's first year of life, she never spent a night being angry or sad that I wasn't responding to her, but she also never spent a day with a patient rested happy mom. Which is better? That's a tradeoff that the Sears philosophy doesn't even touch. And honestly, I think a kid needs a happy mom in the daytime more than they need an awake mom at night. At least after a certain age (I'm still not sure what that age is, but it's earlier than 14 months).
I have so many conflicting feelings about being a mom, some of them happening all at once, and some of them cycling in and out from day to day or week to week. Some days I think "this is easy!" and other days I think "would Pen be better off if I just got in the car and ran away?" When she throws a giant tantrum in the middle of the playground and it feels like all the other moms and nannies are staring at me as I try to physically force her into the stroller, all I can think is "why am I the only one who is bad at this?" And I forget about all the times I see another mom fighting a tantrum while Penny sits happily in her stroller. I don't judge that woman. In fact, I want to give her a hug.
In general, I really agree with what Erica Jong is saying. There's no perfect way to be a mom, and I have to try so so so hard all the time to keep that in mind. Sometimes I let her watch TV while I feed her lunch, and I don't tell anybody because I don't want to be that mom who lets her kid watch tv in the middle of the day. But her brain is not melting. In fact, she just counted to three the other day. No joke. Was it the TV? You know, it's possible the TV helped. They do a lot of counting on those shows. But I can't help thinking of those Parenting magazine articles that say "NO television for a child under 2, and if you MUST let them watch TV, never do it during mealtime." And I am racked with guilt because a magazine told me that I'm not putting enough effort into my mothering, even though I am absolutely covered in smooshed peas and curdled milk and cracker crumbs, and that's after giving her lunch with the television ON, running around the coffee table after her, shoving peas and broccoli into her mouth. If we have lunch at the dining table, like civilized people, it takes twice as long, she eats half as much, and I end up with 3 times more food on my clothing.
I just had a conversation with the woman who was cutting my hair a couple weeks ago about this. Her son is 4 months old. She told me that she doesn't make enough breastmilk to fill his tummy, so she supplements with formula. Her mother-in-law was some pioneer of the La Leche League and is constantly harping on her to do something to make more milk so she doesn't permanently damage the boy with the few ounces of formula he drinks a day. The poor woman was feeling so guilty. So I said to her, "you know what? you're doing a great job. he's getting breast milk, and he's eating enough food. you do what you have to do." And she had such a look of relief pass over her face, and then it disappeared just as quickly as it showed up and she said "I'm just not making enough milk. I wish I could."
We're so hard on ourselves. And becoming a mom doesn't make that stop. It makes it worse. The worst part of motherhood is that we have so many people to judge ourselves against, and, the really worst part, a lot of those people are actively judging us. It's not all in our heads. People can be at their cruelest when they're passing judgment on mothers. I have never received such cruel looks from strangers as when Penny is not properly dressed for the weather.
And the fact is, breastfeeding IS good for kids. And so is responding to them when they're hungry (even at night). But the thing is, Penny is the happiest when I relax and just have fun with her. If I have the energy and happiness to do a silly dance in the living room, it makes her day. She literally falls on the floor laughing. So isn't it in a kids' interest to have a mom who has that energy and happiness? I'll tell the truth. Sometimes that energy and happiness comes from a 5:00 beer. And sometimes it comes from a day of really productive work when the nanny is here. And sometimes it comes from a really good night of sleep. But it never comes from feeling defeated and insufficient and tired and alone. The moms that make me feel the best are the ones who admit that mothering is stumbling along your own path, making mistakes and compromises, getting frustrated and never ever being perfect. If we could all just admit to each other that we're all doing that, instead of trying to live up to these impossible ideals of perfection, I think we'd all be happier moms. Still covered in peas, and still periodically mortified by our kids, and still sometimes really really angry, but on balance, happier. And therefore more available for our kids.
And I don't want to discourage you from motherhood either. It sounds like you're in a really good spot professionally (and geographically) to have a kid! And for every frustration that I talk about, there's a kid who loves to cuddle and give hugs and make you feel like the most important person in the world. It's worth it. It just would be easier if we all were nicer to each other and ourselves about how messy it is.
And I didn't let her cry at all at night until she was 14 months old because I didn't want to permanently damage her with the trauma of abandonment. And let me tell you, when we finally did let her cry, and she finally did sleep through the night, I almost instantly turned into a much better and more patient mom and wife because I was getting sleep. One of the things that I think attachment parenting doesn't give any weight to is the happiness of the mom. A happy and rested mom is a better and more patient mom. You can't stay up all night with your kid and be a nice loving person the next day. And I didn't connect those things. I just thought I was always angry because of some personality defect that I had. So for Penny's first year of life, she never spent a night being angry or sad that I wasn't responding to her, but she also never spent a day with a patient rested happy mom. Which is better? That's a tradeoff that the Sears philosophy doesn't even touch. And honestly, I think a kid needs a happy mom in the daytime more than they need an awake mom at night. At least after a certain age (I'm still not sure what that age is, but it's earlier than 14 months).
I have so many conflicting feelings about being a mom, some of them happening all at once, and some of them cycling in and out from day to day or week to week. Some days I think "this is easy!" and other days I think "would Pen be better off if I just got in the car and ran away?" When she throws a giant tantrum in the middle of the playground and it feels like all the other moms and nannies are staring at me as I try to physically force her into the stroller, all I can think is "why am I the only one who is bad at this?" And I forget about all the times I see another mom fighting a tantrum while Penny sits happily in her stroller. I don't judge that woman. In fact, I want to give her a hug.
In general, I really agree with what Erica Jong is saying. There's no perfect way to be a mom, and I have to try so so so hard all the time to keep that in mind. Sometimes I let her watch TV while I feed her lunch, and I don't tell anybody because I don't want to be that mom who lets her kid watch tv in the middle of the day. But her brain is not melting. In fact, she just counted to three the other day. No joke. Was it the TV? You know, it's possible the TV helped. They do a lot of counting on those shows. But I can't help thinking of those Parenting magazine articles that say "NO television for a child under 2, and if you MUST let them watch TV, never do it during mealtime." And I am racked with guilt because a magazine told me that I'm not putting enough effort into my mothering, even though I am absolutely covered in smooshed peas and curdled milk and cracker crumbs, and that's after giving her lunch with the television ON, running around the coffee table after her, shoving peas and broccoli into her mouth. If we have lunch at the dining table, like civilized people, it takes twice as long, she eats half as much, and I end up with 3 times more food on my clothing.
I just had a conversation with the woman who was cutting my hair a couple weeks ago about this. Her son is 4 months old. She told me that she doesn't make enough breastmilk to fill his tummy, so she supplements with formula. Her mother-in-law was some pioneer of the La Leche League and is constantly harping on her to do something to make more milk so she doesn't permanently damage the boy with the few ounces of formula he drinks a day. The poor woman was feeling so guilty. So I said to her, "you know what? you're doing a great job. he's getting breast milk, and he's eating enough food. you do what you have to do." And she had such a look of relief pass over her face, and then it disappeared just as quickly as it showed up and she said "I'm just not making enough milk. I wish I could."
We're so hard on ourselves. And becoming a mom doesn't make that stop. It makes it worse. The worst part of motherhood is that we have so many people to judge ourselves against, and, the really worst part, a lot of those people are actively judging us. It's not all in our heads. People can be at their cruelest when they're passing judgment on mothers. I have never received such cruel looks from strangers as when Penny is not properly dressed for the weather.
And the fact is, breastfeeding IS good for kids. And so is responding to them when they're hungry (even at night). But the thing is, Penny is the happiest when I relax and just have fun with her. If I have the energy and happiness to do a silly dance in the living room, it makes her day. She literally falls on the floor laughing. So isn't it in a kids' interest to have a mom who has that energy and happiness? I'll tell the truth. Sometimes that energy and happiness comes from a 5:00 beer. And sometimes it comes from a day of really productive work when the nanny is here. And sometimes it comes from a really good night of sleep. But it never comes from feeling defeated and insufficient and tired and alone. The moms that make me feel the best are the ones who admit that mothering is stumbling along your own path, making mistakes and compromises, getting frustrated and never ever being perfect. If we could all just admit to each other that we're all doing that, instead of trying to live up to these impossible ideals of perfection, I think we'd all be happier moms. Still covered in peas, and still periodically mortified by our kids, and still sometimes really really angry, but on balance, happier. And therefore more available for our kids.
And I don't want to discourage you from motherhood either. It sounds like you're in a really good spot professionally (and geographically) to have a kid! And for every frustration that I talk about, there's a kid who loves to cuddle and give hugs and make you feel like the most important person in the world. It's worth it. It just would be easier if we all were nicer to each other and ourselves about how messy it is.
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