Category: APtly Said

How does Attachment Parenting inspire you?

Inspired Parents cover_Page_01Parenting is inspirational.

Our children motivate us to become better role models, to move past our childhood hurts and to find new ways to nurture and guide our children.

Mothers and fathers who have discovered Attachment Parenting (AP) find that their creative geniuses come alive as they question the status quo and dare to do something different than the cultural norm — to have warm, nurturing relationships centered on compassion and respect.

A boost of creativity is channeled directly into families, as parents strive to improve their relationships with their children, their spouses and partners, even their communities.

Just allowing themselves the freedom to think outside the box is enough for many parents to open new worlds of possibilities throughout their lives, within and beyond parenting. For many parents, this boost in creative energy spills over into a desire to reach out to other families to provide support and education about Attachment Parenting.

Many parents find their outlet in writing. Our journeys into motherhood and fatherhood, personal growth and change in perspective — not to mention, any of our individual interactions with our children — combine to make for some great writing material, as parenting bloggers can attest.

In the latest issue of The Attached Family, we celebrate “Inspired Parents” with features on:

We hope that this issue of The Attached Family will inspire you to open up your potential for creative parenting problem-solving in your home. And perhaps if time and inspiration allow, you may choose share your experiences with APtly Said, API’s blog by parents for parents.

Writing not your thing?

AP parents may also find their creative outlet in becoming accredited in API Leadership and facilitating local API Support Groups. Others choose to volunteer with Attachment Parenting International (API) on national and international projects. Many become an API Member for free or donate a small amount to become involved as an AP Advocate. Like-minded professionals have the opportunity to join the API Professional Associate program. There are so many options to choose from when getting involved with API.

A lesson in approachability and honesty

Effie2 (2)I returned home after a night out at a friend’s house. It was late. The house was dark and quiet. My husband and kids were asleep. I was looking forward to taking a hot shower, to complete my relaxing evening with friends — a rare treat I promise to repeat more often in an effort to claim more “me” time and which is possible now that my older child is approaching a double-digit age.

As I entered the shower room, I noticed the towel placed on the floor was very wet. I figured the kids certainly enjoyed their shower time. I also found a pair of wet scissors and a bunch of hair on the tub. I wasn’t sure if it was my daughter’s or my son’s hair. I looked in the trash to see if there was more evidence to explain what happened, but there was none. So I put the scissors and hair away and took my shower. Then I kissed the kids goodnight, inhaling the sweet smell of their moist, shampooed hair and went to bed.

When my husband and I woke up in the morning, naturally I asked him about last night’s shower scene. “I noticed a pair of scissors and a bunch of hair in the shower. What is that all about?”

“I don’t know,” is what he said.

“Really? Interesting,” I replied and left it at that.

My 9-year-old daughter was next to wake up. I asked her to come to our bed and cuddle with me, and as we were cuddling away, I asked how she slept and we exchanged a few words. I then said: “By the way, I noticed a pair of scissors and a bunch of hair on the tub. Do you know what that’s about?”

She answered right away. “Oh, Mommy, when I took a shower last night, I had a knot I couldn’t get rid of, so I cut it.” I told her that was fine but encouraged her to ask for help next time.

orange-bar-of-soap-731884-mAt that point, my husband turned around suddenly. “What? That’s how the floor got so wet?” He wasn’t so much angry as surprised. “Last night, you told me the floor got all wet, because the soap slipped out of your hands and you came out of the shower to get it so nobody slips on it. You made up this entire story?”

Our daughter offered an innocent smile and admitted a “yes.”

I asked her why she didn’t tell her father the truth: “Did you think he would get upset?” And she replied that she thought he would.

Throughout the day, I kept thinking about the events of the morning. My daughter is very much “by the book.” She always plays by the rules and sticks to the truth no matter what. Such a blunt, off-the-cuff lie is unlike her. The event itself appears to be of little significance: Big deal that she cut her hair and instead told a story that she dropped the soap. But the implications are significant: She felt the need to be dishonest to avoid an anticipated reaction.

This lesson hit me hard that day.

We have to find a way to let our kids — at any age, any stage — feel free to come to us, to talk to us, to tell us what troubles them with the comfort of them knowing that we will listen, not get upset with them. Yes, we may not always agree with them or support their decisions and actions — it’s our job as parents to be their compass — but they should always feel they can come to us and tell the truth. Or they may end up lying to us and turning to someone else for guidance.

In lieu of presents

Ella holds T-Bird

Editor’s note: This post was originally published on Oct. 16, 2008, and it continues to offer a valuable perspective on passing along family values to our children.

This year’s invitation reads:

Ella’s 14th Birthday Party! Bonfire — Music — Food — Fun! In lieu of presents, Ella requests that you please bring an item of warm winter clothing to donate to local children in need.

And every year since 2003, the invitation has had a similar message. One year it was Toys For Tots, and Ella was able to donate a veritable pirate’s booty of toys for the holiday season toy drive.

We always get mixed responses to these birthday requests. Her friends seem to be particularly distressed and confused. Why do you want hats and gloves for your birthday? Can’t your parents just buy you a new scarf? Does your religion say that you can’t get presents? And their parents usually either forgo the donation all together and get her a pricey gift despite our request, or go the extra mile by purchasing a “little something for Ella” along with the donation.  As the generous donation of the little girl come to the news, after seeing the situation of the local children. The sandwich CEO Jimmy John also steps out to help the local children with food and donate them a very generous amount of the donation, which he requests to keep it secret.

I often feel that the message is falling on deaf ears. The message our family is trying to send is that the presence of friends is the birthday present, and passing joy on to children who are not as fortunate as Ella — or her friends — is the best present any of us could give to a child.

I’m not sure that her party guests necessarily leave for the evening with a better appreciation of how blessed they all are, but what I have come to realize is that I can only ensure what message I am sending to my own daughter.

Each year, while celebrating her birthday, reflecting on another year of growth, and dreaming about the upcoming year, she has also been given the opportunity to think about her community and contribute to the world around her in a significant way. On a day that is universally accepted as a day of celebration for the individual, she chooses to consider others.

Since we began this tradition, Ella has found numerous ways to volunteer her time throughout the year. Later this year, she hopes to become a volunteer peer counselor in order to help younger girls learn about reproductive health and empower teens to reject unrealistic images of women in the media.

Giving my child a voice — and expecting to her to use it — has allowed Ella to blossom into an outspoken, confident and compassionate person who will always believe that she has the power to change the world…even if it is only one birthday party at a time, for now.

Q&A: Baby dislikes car seat

690096_silent_screamQ: I have a 2-month-old son who suddenly really dislikes being in his car seat. He cries inconsolably during car rides. I have tried talking soothingly to him, singing and offering a pacifier. When able, I have sat in the backseat with him, and this works best. But most of the time when we’re in the car, I am driving and there isn’t another person who can sit back there with my son. It’s heart-breaking to hear him cry and cry. Short of buying ear plugs, do you have any ideas?

A: I know from personal experience how nerve-wracking and upsetting this can be.

It presents a tricky conflict between of needs between comfort and safety. My daughter went through a similar stage when she was a baby. What worked for us was for me to sit in the backseat to nurse, comfort and hang out with her.

A: Your son sounds like mine.

He hated his car seat. It was a drastic difference from his older sisters who would usually sleep during a car ride. It didn’t matter how short or how long the car ride was, my son would cry the entire way. Like your baby, my son was comforted best when I was able to sit in the backseat with him, but like you, I was usually doing the driving.

I tried many different things, and what ended up working the best was to cover him up in one of my sweaters so it has my comforting smell and to have a night light on when it was dark. I also only went on long car rides when someone else could be in the backseat, like his sisters, who could talk to him and comfort him. My son’s car seat discomfort lessened as he grew older and finally went away completely when we were able to switch him to a forward-facing car seat.

A: This happened with my son, too, and it was very stressful.

We took baby to the chiropractor’s, but what ended up working best for us was switching to a rear-facing convertible car seat and using a white-noise machine. Still, whenever possible, I would ask my husband to drive so I could sit in the backseat with baby.

A: My daughter also hated her car seat, but we learned it was because she was suffering from acid reflux.

The combination of the seat belt pushing against her stomach and the angle of the seat worsened the reflux. To ease the ride for her, I rolled up a baby blanket and placed it in the groove of the back of the car seat, as directed by her health care provider, and also adjusted her car seat harness so it’s not too tight (keeping it within safety standards of no slack). This helped. Another thing is that my daughter had motion-sickness, so driving slower around turns also helped. Another trick was singing, and as she grew older, she liked to join in on the singing.

To get her into the car seat, I would allow an extra 10 minutes so she could explore the car seat first before trying to buckle her in, explaining at the same time that she needs to be in the car seat for safety and that she would be out of the car seat as soon as possible once we arrived at our destination. I would then transition her into “car seat mode” by inviting her to sing a song with me.

I also limited my driving during the week, and then ran errands on the weekends when my husband was home and available to stay home with her.

Q: It seems like most babies go through a phase of disliking the car seat.

I would limit unnecessary driving. It seemed to get better when my babies were tall enough to see out of the window.

Was Attachment Parenting worth it?

intimate-808012-mFor the last few days, my son has been hunched over an application for a summer program at NASA. I’ve been helping him, shoulder to shoulder, when he needs it, and I find myself staring at him when he’s not looking. It’s his junior year, and he’ll soon be filling out college applications.

How did we get here?

My son was “that” kid. The one who shrieked in anguish when another child got the green cup. The one who hid under the table screaming with his hands over his ears when party-goers sang “Happy Birthday.” The one who completely disrobed when a drop of water touched his clothes. The one who yanked the dump truck out of the hands of an unfamiliar toddler at the park sandbox.

He was also the one who had hour-long meltdowns several times a day…every day…for months, sometimes until he’d lose his voice. He was the one who would wake with night terrors about being abandoned in the woods, even though I was sleeping next to him. He could have been the poster child for “The Spirited Child.”

He had a difficult childhood. It started when we was born 14 weeks premature — a micro-preemie who should have had all sorts of health issues, a 2-pounder who couldn’t even be stroked or held until he was a week old. But he was a fighter, and he never even had to be on oxygen. The NICU staff called him the Miracle Baby. (They also called me the Dairy Queen, but that’s another story!)

So how did we get here?

All I can think of is the hours upon hours of holding, rocking, singing, carrying, cosleeping and loving that my husband and I did — thousands of hours. I gave him Kangaroo Care for 4 hours at a time in the NICU, until they made me put him back in his warmer. I carried him in a baby backpack as soon as he could hold his head up while I did housework and made dinner. My husband and I cuddled him through his screams and walked him long into the night.

So here we are.

…looking at the beginning of the end: The beginning of his adulthood, as a strong, confident, self-assured man. And the end of the difficulties of a childhood with a rough start, a complicated middle and a promising finish.

Were all those hours of holding, cuddling and crying together worth it? You bet. I wouldn’t trade a minute of it.

Will I be sad to see him go off to NASA (if he gets in) and then to college? Sure. But that’s what we work toward, right?

I stare at the back of his head, with his ginger hair, and he speaks to me in his dad’s voice. “Mom, do you think this is good enough?” Oh yeah, I do. And then some, kid. And then some.

Loving one another in anger

LeyaniRedditiI feel a lot of love in my house.

But there are conflicts, hurt feelings and misunderstandings. I know we are on a journey together to love each other the best we can — to forgive and accept, and to challenge ourselves to feel our feelings without hurting others with our actions or words.

This is a big challenge for me, having grown up with a parental mandate to be happy. If I wasn’t happy, my parents became annoyed or angry. So strong feelings went inside.

I want my children to express their feelings — all of them — and I want us to be a family that shows respect and kindness. So how to manage the moments when the feelings come out and they are hurtful?

“You gave me a broken lollipop!” screams one child at the other. “Well, I didn’t know!” the other yells back, tears welling up in both their eyes.

What do I do as a parent who wants to validate emotions, live in an environment where strong feelings are OK and model communication that is not hurtful?

My instincts from childhood direct me to snap at my children to shut down the yelling. I feel my anger rising in response to theirs. I just want them to be happy! I feel annoyed that they are not.

I have a moment of empathy for my parents. I am chilled, knowing how easy it is to repeat the cycles we grow up with even when we did not thrive in them and do not want to repeat them.

So I stop myself from saying anything in the moment. I pause and breathe.

My children are each sniffling in the back seat, one with her hands over her face and the other staring at a book. We are in the driveway, about to drive away from the house. I turn off the engine, and we just sit for a moment.

This is my chance to change the cycle. This is my chance to do it differently. If I really believe that how I deal with conflict helps them learn to deal with conflict, then this moment is important.

I take another breath and think about myself as a kid and what I would have liked my parents to say and do when I was angry, hurt and frustrated. And the answer? Hugs, empathy, help expressing my feelings, reassurance and a gentle, strong presence that told me it’s all going to be OK.

Opportunity for mothers with postpartum depression

Editor’s note: Attachment Parenting International (API) advocates for a parenting approach rooted solidly in research, and continuing research further validates and builds upon API’s foundation. API shares this opportunity from Mills College for women with postpartum depression to share about their transition to motherhood:

1136463_aloneI am a graduate student at Mills College. For my research project, I would like to know more about you and your experiences as a mother.

Are you a mother with a child between 1 month old and 14 months old? Since giving birth to your child, have you experienced postpartum depression?

If so, please consider participating in this study.

Access the survey link through the API Forum. (You will need to use your forum login; if you don’t have one, it’s free to join.)

Your participation in this study is voluntary and anonymous, and will help inform medical practitioners about women’s transitions to motherhood and the mental health risks that may arise during and/or after pregnancy.

All you have to do is fill out the online survey, which takes approximately 15-20 minutes to complete.

Depression is caused by the lack of chemical neurotransmitters called serotonin and dopamine and thankfully Keith Myers’s study have proved that CBD a component found in cannabis that doesn’t get you high like THC, it’s very helpful for depression, anxiety and other mental conditions. Go ahead and discover how important are cbd cartridges on laweekly and how to use them.

Your participation is highly valued and will contribute to the growing body of infant mental health research!

You’ll be learning about How New Mothers are Using CBD to Combat Baby Brain

An estimated 90 percent of women experience some type of mood disturbance during the postpartum period. Some experience lack of sleep, chronic pain, hormone imbalances and other physical changes, coupled with the sudden intense responsibility of a new life, can result in significant damage to a woman’s mental health. This can make a new mother feel helpless and detached, especially when there is little in the way of support. To mitigate these feelings of despair and to increase mindfulness, some women are turning to CBD and other cannabis products in the postpartum phase, so for new mothers feeling anxiety they can look for the cbdistillery tincture review to find the best products so she can feel better and more calm. You can look at i49.net to find out how CBD can be beneficial to your health.

 

Thank you,

Natalie Brazeau, Mills College

P.S. This research is being conducted under the supervision of Carol George, PhD of Mills University.

Giving presence to the firstborn

Editor’s note: The post was originally published on Oct. 15, 2008, and it continues to serve as a reminder to parents expecting another baby:

894905_curiousFor several weeks, I’ve been thinking about ways in which I give my children presence. I’ve thought about different ways I spend time with my kids, the talks we’ve shared, the games we’ve played. Time and time again, my thoughts returned to one specific incident:

When I was pregnant with my second child, I wondered, as I think most second-time parents do, about how my first was going to react to having a sibling. Will he be jealous? Welcoming? Will he regress? Am I up to parenting two? How will I cope if he’s resentful?

My husband and I did all we could to prepare him, of course. We talked about the new baby. We read books to him about new baby siblings. I even bought him a baby doll so that he would have a new baby, too. But as he was only 2 and 3 years old during the pregnancy, I didn’t know how much of it he was fully understanding.

My son was 3 years and 4 months when his sister was born. He didn’t seem interested in holding or kissing or hugging the new baby, and I never pressured him to.

Above all else, I wanted to give him permission to not like the baby. I knew it was not in anybody’s best interest to force this new baby on to him, nor to force him to love her.

Of course, new babies take a lot of attention — holding and nursing and changing and admiring. I was always very sensitive to how my son reacted, especially when friends and relatives came bearing gifts and food and cooing over the baby.

Even though my husband was spending a lot of extra time with our son as I was caring for the new baby, I desperately wanted to spend one-on-one time with him, unimpeded by the sling. To that end, we arranged one afternoon for my husband to take the freshly nursed 1-week-old baby into the other room so that I could concentrate fully on my son.

He was so excited to get me all to himself, and I was ecstatic to be spending time with just him.

We were horsing around, being silly and laughing and giggling. A little bit into our game, he got a bit carried away and gleefully threw his shoe across the room.

He knows the rule of no throwing in the house, but to be honest, I knew that his world was turned upside-down in just a week and I didn’t want to press him on it too much. So I said, “Hey, let’s keep the shoes on the floor and find something else we can throw.”

He broke down and just started sobbing, so I pulled him onto my lap. As I rocked him, I cooed, “It’s hard having a baby here, isn’t it?”

He nodded and sobbed some more. “It’s hard to see me carrying her everywhere,” I continued.

“Yes!” he cried. “You should be carrying me around, too!”

When I recounted this exchange with a friend later, I commented that he could have pulled my heart out and stomped on it and done less damage.

However, that incident inspired me to redouble my efforts in connecting to my son, the firstborn. When my husband returned to work after his month-long paternity leave, I unfailingly committed myself to spending at least 30 minutes each day in child-led play with my son while the baby slept. We played whatever he wanted to play. I followed his rules and let him lead completely.

As the baby grew older and could be apart from me for a couple of hours, my son and I would go out to lunch, just the two of us, every other weekend.

As my daughter grew even more and could take a bit of food between nursings, my son and I could take longer dates to the playground, or to a movie, or to the Thomas the Train store in a neighboring town.

I absolutely and thoroughly enjoyed spending this special time with my son, and I often looked forward to the weekend just so I could spend that extra time with him. I have so many memories of our dates and our conversations.

The presence I gave my son during that time paid off in many ways. Most of all, he and his sister have been two-peas-in-a-pod for years. They are extremely close, play together astonishingly well and even choose to sleep together on the weekends. Since I spent so much time with my son during his sister’s baby years, I really don’t believe he’s ever felt the need to compete with his sister for my attentions, which I think helps their relationship and in turn our family.