Presence – Page 32

Travel to Attachment

When my foster brothers–who suffered with attachment disorder– were in some of the worst periods of their sickness, a therapist suggested that we travel. It throws children in to one of their most dependent states. They don’t know anyone else, they don’t know where they are, they are not surrounded by the familiar items of their home. Often even their food and sleeping patterns change and flex according to the travel schedule. This, the therapist said, would make it an ideal situation for bonding, because you (as the parent) were the only constant, stable thing in their life.

I am about to go on a road trip with my (almost) 17 month old son. And not a small or short road trip either, we are going to Texas. We are driving from northern MN to Texas and then we will be spending 10 days there, not in the same place– we have to do some traveling in Texas as well– and then road tripping back. His schedule will be thrown off, his food will be different, he will have to spend hours confined to his car seat, he will have to visit people he doesn’t know (very well) and will have to wear disposable diapers. These are all very unsettling things in a small child’s life. I have found myself becoming increasingly nervous. Until I remembered what the therapist had said. Now my son, by no means, has an attachment disorder but I thought about what she had said and applied it to our upcoming situation and it has begun to turn my feelings of trepidation in to ones of excitement.

We are going to have a blast! We are going to get out of normal routine. We are going to spend all kinds of time together doing new and different things. We are going to experience things together in a whole new way. The “old” places to me are not going to feel “old” or routine this time because I am going to experience them through the eyes and emotions of my child. What an invigorating experience!

Through this trip we are going to continue to forge our attachment and on the other side of the thousand miles of road we will travel we are going to come out, still and again, a very bonded pair.

That being said, anyone want to leave some tips on how to keep this busy little man occupied and happy (as possible) during this long trip? (i.e. snack, games, toys, etc.)

The Messages We Send Our Children

I am currently at the end of nursing my two youngest children through a bout of Influenza. This year’s strain of influenza, the Influenza A H1N1 is spreading rapidly and bringing with it messages of fear even for the most positive thinking parents. When children are sick it is natural for them to be afraid. I have put a lot of thought into the messages that I want my children to hear about their bodies, illness and their body’s ability to heal itself. This carries over into the way I want them to view issues of weight as they enter their teen and adult years and is a long term way of giving them the tools they need to avoid falling into the trap of eating disorders either on the under-eating or over-eating end of that spectrum.

While they were sick I kept repeating the message to them “Your body is strong, it will heal itself” and “yes you have a fever, the fever is a sign your body is working to fight off the virus,” “throwing up is a way for your body to get rid of the germs in your stomach and is a good thing” and “coughing is a way for your body to get germs out so it’s important to not take anything to stop the coughing.”

I believe the body wants to be well and is a self-healing entity and when we are fighting off the inevitable viruses that attack our bodies as important as a strong immune system is a strong belief in the body’s desire for balance and wellness. These are the messages I want my children to hear while they are sipping water, lying on the couch watching cartoons and fighting off whatever bug has bit them.

I am very careful not to jump for the pill bottle for them or myself and even do not jump to the herbal or natural remedies too quickly either and when I do I describe them as support for the body rather than a cure.

And as important as what I say is what I do. My children watch me and know what I am putting into my body, they know if I’m fearful when I get sick. They worry about mommy when she’s not well and I repeat the same messages to them. And they are always true. I rarely get sick but when I do I get better quickly.
They see it happen and they know it to be true.

I apply this same approach in the matter of discipline.

I believe that children want to behave in ways that avoids hurting others, that they want to be kind and gentle and do the right thing for others. I’ve seen very natural and spontaneous acts of kindness from very small children and believe that they naturally want to follow that course. They are just in need of guidance as to how their actions affect others. I don’t believe being fearful of a parent is conducive to imparting that message which is why I avoid punitive discipline.

The messages I try to relay in all those situations are ones of emotion. “That made your friend very happy when you gave her that toy, you must be very proud of yourself,” or “you didn’t mean to hurt your friend, you seem very sorry,” and “I am very proud of you.” The last one I say a lot and is not dependent upon their behaviour. It is important that they know how I feel about them outside of their behaviour and I tell them how proud I am of them at random moments.

Another message that I try to impart to them regularly is that I am absolutely thrilled to be their mom. I tell them that I am the luckiest mom because they are my children and that being their mom is my greatest joy.

This message is the most important one because it counterbalances those very human moments when I am not the most patient mom, they know how I really feel so that when I apologise for being angry or disappointing them or for making very human mistakes they believe it because they have seen through my words and most of my actions that I mean it.

From the very beginning, from the moment we respond to their first cry, to that toddler moment when we return a snatched toy to impress upon them that others have needs as well as theirs, while consoling them during illness and while tucking them in on a regular old night, the messages we give our children, spoken as well as acted, are soaked sponge-like into their brains.

And because of this the messages we send through our words and actions are probably our number one tool in shaping the adults they become and increases the likelihood that they will become emotionally strong, healthy, capable and truly happy adults.

Unconditional Love

When we were moving a few months ago, I stumbled upon an on old journal from my childhood. I sat down, amidst a pile of boxes, and ignored the surrounding mess to go back to a place that I hadn’t visited in a long time. The pages were laden with my 12 year old scribbles. There were entries about my loves , my friends, and trivial problems, but in between those pages were some hauntingly poignant entries about the abuse that filled my childhood. As I read, it wasn’t the entries describing the latest attack, it was a simple statement, ended with a question, that I think I sent out to the universe:

“I feel like I will never be good enough. Like I will never measure up. I feel like unless I do what they want, and only what they want, they will never love me fully. They call me names, they insult me, they punish me when I stray from their beliefs. Is this how a parent is supposed to treat their child? Is this normal?”

As I grew up, I spent a lot of time asking that question over and over again. It wasn’t until I had my own child and pulled out this journal that I recognized the answer to that question was supposed to be a resounding “NO!” I’d like to say this discovery has ended any self-doubts, but daily, I still ask “Is this enough? Am I enough?” The impact of this emotional abuse as a child has left a permanent mark, even so many years later.

Continue reading “Unconditional Love”

Co-sleeping: They Say So Much

Next month, she’ll turn 3. And yes, she is still in our bed.

They say she’ll never become independent. They say she’ll never learn to sleep on her own. They say we’ll never get her out of our bed.

They say a lot of things.

But they aren’t there at night, when her heartbeat and mine start beating in sync, our own song of love. They aren’t there in the morning, when she wakes up with a smile and confidence from knowing she belongs.

Because right now, at this time in her life, this is where she belongs.

It will change, and probably soon. The signs are already there. So, despite what they say, she will continue to be welcome into our bed for as long as she wants.

They can say what they want, but it won’t change a thing. She is where she belongs.

Shelly is a WAHM to two girls. You can find her daily at Adventures of a Breastfeeding Mother.

Mellow Monday?

This past May, I instituted Stay at Home Mondays at our house as a way of easing into the work week and my husband being gone after the weekend. We’ve been missing them lately. We went on a trip, then my husband was out of town, then I got a kidney infection. These were my particular circumstances, but I’m sure you could make your own list of reasons why your schedule doesn’t stay on track

This past Sunday night I lay in bed thinking about getting to have a dedicated Monday at home for the first time in about six weeks. Then “Manic Monday” by The Bangles started running through my head:
“It’s just another manic Monday
I wish it was Sunday
‘Cause that’s my fun day
My I don’t have to run day
It’s just another manic Monday”

Each day I try to decide if it’s a fun day, run day, or if we can somehow combine the errands and play, the housework and time to just hang out with each other. Thankfully, staying at home on Mondays erases most of the questions about what we’re going to do. If I have any household to do lists, I put them away on Mondays. We aren’t available for checking off tasks. So I went to sleep thinking about how peaceful Monday would be, even going so far as to consider mellow Mondays a great substitute.

My Monday was not mellow. Giving a nearly-three year old attention all day long and just following his lead makes for a lot of activity. First, he lay on my chest facing up so we could both raise our arms and legs in the air and wiggle them. Then we hid under the sheet and I’d ask, “Where did Mama and Cavanaugh go?” to which Cavanaugh would respond by saying, “I don’t know. Where is them?” Next the under-sheet turned into a rocket ship so we could fly back to New Mexico.

Muffin I mentioned the possibility of baking something at some point in the day. “Let’s bake something now” was Cavanaugh’s response, followed up by pushing his Kitchen Helper over to the table and instructing, “You get the ingrements,” then, “You get cups and spoons,” and “Where’s the brown fleura?”

After guessing brown sugar and baking powder, I scored with “Vanilla?”

By the end of our pumpkin muffin mixing, Cavanaugh was leaning over the table pointing to indicate which muffin cup to fill up next. “Them need pumpkin in them. They feel very sad. Give them some nice pumpkin and them feel happy.”

After breakfast, we pulled out the supply of glue art materials: pom poms, beads, metal confetti shapes, googly eyes, glitter, a popsicle stick for spreading glue, glue, and construction paper. We did that for two hours, interrupted by Cavanaugh needing to poop, which he did on his potty as I read Not a Box (one of my favorite toddler books because it encourages pretend play and turns cardboard boxes into robot costumes, race cars, and elephants to ride). After more muffins and three times of Not a Box, Cavanaugh had successfully pooped and gotten red glitter on his penis. Of course, that was a fine accompaniment to the green glitter on his arms and gold on his chin and cheeks. Glue Art

In his room, we measured his height on the growth chart and hung up a memory board I’d made over the weekend. We put pictures of Cavanaugh’s cousins and grandparents on there and went to look on my computer for more photos. He had an hour of quiet time that he narrated as he did puzzles and hid under the sheet. Then we looked on the computer for more photos to a Jellydots soundtrack. That was all before three in the afternoon.

So my Monday was neither mellow nor manic. Instead, I got to hang out with my kid all day, play pretend, make art and food, laugh, and watch my son turn like a dog chasing his tail as he tried to see the design on the bottom of his brand-new big boy underwear. This may have been one of the best Mondays of my lifetime.

What happens in your house when you put the to do lists away and just follow your kid’s lead?

Sonya Fehér love love loves glitter and blogs at http://mamatrue.com.

It Takes a Village to Raise a Child

A lot of parents that practice attachment parenting or natural parenting point to the fact that this is the way children are often raised in traditional societies. This is true, to a great extent, but there is one big exception. In our society we seem to feel that practicing attachment parenting means that the parents alone are raising the child or sometimes even one parent alone (usually the mother) while the other one works long hours, goes off to war, or just runs away.

We parent alone. We raise our children alone. That is exhausting.

In traditional societies, it is true that people co-sleep, breastfeed much longer, and wear their babies all the time. But the village raises the child. There are grandparents, aunts, neighbours, and older children to share the parenting. In our society, if the mother cannot do it all, all of the time, we look down on her. Or, alternately, if she isn’t willing to just leave her baby with some stranger in order to get a break, we look down on her.
Continue reading “It Takes a Village to Raise a Child”

Too attached?

I’m thankful that my circumstances allow me to be a stay-at-home mom, and because Germany makes it quite easy, most of the mothers I know are in the same situation. And apart from me, all of them put their children into day care several times a week to have time for themselves.

I do sometimes feel like I’d like some time for myself, but it’s not really a pressing need. Many moms say it’s so their kids get socialized, but I don’t find my son lacking in social skills. Continue reading “Too attached?”

Weaning: What If Mom Isn’t Ready?

My daughter is 2.5 years old and showing signs of weaning. At times when she would normally nurse, she is now telling me that my “na nas are broken” and is starting to nurse less and less.

She is completely ready. I, however, am not.

My daughter is 2.5 years old and showing signs of weaning. At times when she would normally nurse, she is now telling me that my “na nas are broken” and is starting to nurse less and less.

She is completely ready. I, however, am not.

She is my youngest, my baby. When my oldest daughter weaned at 22 months old, it didn’t bother me as much; probably because I was pregnant and knew that another baby was coming to take her place at the breast.

This time, there is no baby. There was going to be a baby boy born in about two weeks to take her place at the breast, but we sadly lost him in the second trimester. July 4th was my due date, and as that day looms closer and my youngest nurses less and less, I realize that for the first time in over five years I will have both an empty womb and empty breasts.
Continue reading “Weaning: What If Mom Isn’t Ready?”