Provide Consistent & Loving Care – Page 20

Have No Fear

“Have no fear of perfection, you’ll never reach it.” – Salvador Dali

Children do not have this fear. I think it spills over to being a parent, too. I have learned by trial and error to not be afraid. I am not a perfect parent, nor will I ever be.

When my son paints, he does it so organically and naturally. I usually let him have his way with the water colors, crayons, and water mixing cups. It gets messy — real messy.

He knows what colors he wants to use and how to curve the crayon to meet his own needs. He bends and turns, creating his own masterpieces. I will admit, I often am not supervising him directly when he is painting. He has a table in the art room/office. When I am writing, he is creating. We are in the same room. I set up his materials in the respect of leaving brushes out, often uncleaned. He figures it out. He’ll ask me when he needs some help or fresh water. Most of the time, he says, “I’ll do it all myself.” He is three.

I am often amazed at his creations. I like to think he is a natural, but all children are natural artists.

“Every child is an artist, the problem is staying an artist when you grow up.” – Pablo Picasso

I am trying to think of ways art and creativity can translate into parenting. I believe Attachment Parenting has been a natural process for my family. We had the tools, and the art was created. We have used the Eight Principles in our life and have selected the “colors” which are our favorites. You do not have to practice all eight Principles to get certified as an AP parent. There is no certification. Some parents only use a couple principles, some use all eight of them.

My husband and I are practicing gentle discipline. At times, it is frustrating. At times, I wonder how fear would be more effective. But we guide and teach and teach and guide. Sometimes we are left with bite marks and exhausted sighs, but we know we are creating our own masterpiece. Our son is a blank canvas and the colors we choose will have an effect on him. We choose each color from the parent palette carefully.

So, I leave you with an art show of some of my son’s artwork.

Painting 1 — Principle 1: Prepare for Pregnancy, Birth, and Parenting

Become emotionally and physically prepared for pregnancy and birth. Research available options for healthcare providers and birthing environments, and become informed about routine newborn care. Continuously educate yourself about developmental stages of childhood, setting realistic expectations and remaining flexible.

Painting 2 — Principle 2: Feed with Love and Respect

Breastfeeding is the optimal way to satisfy an infant’s nutritional and emotional needs. “Bottle Nursing” adapts breastfeeding behaviors to bottle-feeding to help initiate a secure attachment. Follow the feeding cues for both infants and children, encouraging them to eat when they are hungry and stop when they are full. Offer healthy food choices and model healthy eating behavior.

Painting 3 — Principle 3: Respond with Sensitivity

Build the foundation of trust and empathy beginning in infancy. Tune in to what your child is communicating to you, then respond consistently and appropriately. Babies cannot be expected to self-soothe; they need calm, loving, empathetic parents to help them learn to regulate their emotions. Respond sensitively to a child who is hurting or expressing strong emotion, and share in their joy.

Painting 4 — Principle 4: Use Nurturing Touch

Touch meets a baby’s needs for physical contact, affection, security, stimulation, and movement. Skin-to-skin contact is especially effective, such as during breastfeeding, bathing, or massage. Carrying or babywearing also meets this need while on the go. Hugs, snuggling, back rubs, massage, and physical play help meet this need in older children.

Painting 5 — Principle 5: Ensure Safe Sleep, Physically and Emotionally

Babies and children have needs at night just as they do during the day — from hunger, loneliness, and fear, to feeling too hot or too cold. They rely on parents to soothe them and help them regulate their intense emotions. Sleep training techniques can have detrimental physiological and psychological effects. Safe co-sleeping has benefits to both babies and parents.

Painting 6 — Principle 6: Provide Consistent and Loving Care

Babies and young children have an intense need for the physical presence of a consistent, loving, responsive caregiver: ideally a parent. If it becomes necessary, choose an alternate caregiver who has formed a bond with the child and who cares for him in a way that strengthens the attachment relationship. Keep schedules flexible, and minimize stress and fear during short separations.

SONY DSC — Principle 7: Practice Positive Discipline

Positive discipline helps a child develop a conscience guided by his own internal discipline and compassion for others. Discipline that is empathetic, loving, and respectful strengthens the connection between parent and child. Rather than reacting to behavior, discover the needs leading to the behavior. Communicate and craft solutions together while keeping everyone’s dignity intact.

I drew this when I was a kid. My mom saved all my art. Principle 8: Strive for Balance in Personal and Family Life — I drew this when I was a kid. My mom saved all my art.
Principle 8: Strive for Balance in Personal and Family Life

It is easier to be emotionally responsive when you feel in balance. Create a support network, set realistic goals, put people before things, and don’t be afraid to say “no.” Recognize individual needs within the family and meet them to the greatest extent possible without compromising your physical and emotional health. Be creative, have fun with parenting, and take time to care for yourself.

“Creativity is more than just being different. Anybody can plan weird; that’s easy. What’s hard is to be as simple as Bach. Making the simple, awesomely simple, that’s creativity.” – Charles Mingus

* Descriptions of each Principle under each painting are from www.attachmentparenting.org.

I never worked harder to stay-at-home

I wish I had known how much I would love being a mother.

How could I have anticipated the depth of this love?

My heart opens with wonder when I watch my 18-month-old son lift his arms, snap his fingers, and gently sway to music. Any music. We could be in the check out line at Walgreens and if he hears music, he lifts his arms in praise.

Oh, the world is good to him. Despite the little, blue bruise on his forehead from a sad encounter with the edge of an antique bureau, it’s a loving world overall. I am forever grateful for the opportunity to be a gentle and consistent source of kindness as he learns to walk, speak, and jump. May he internalize this love and bring it forth as an inner light in days to come, days when I am no longer by his side to wipe away the tears of sad encounters.

A foundation for trust is being built. I am his “secure base” and he then sets off to explore this magical world full of rocks, leaves, sunshine, and scrumptious raisins. We co-sleep. He nurses on demand. His organic rhythms are honored.

I love being a stay-at-home mom.

I didn’t anticipate this.

Because of my blindness, I scramble to make up for the financial mistakes of the past. If I only had known to save so staying-at-home would unfold with greater ease.

Today, I acknowledge choices made and make new ones. I find creative and wonderful ways of bringing in money whiles nurturing my son. And that’s including the fact that we already have sought the best iva company to repay our mortgages. We teach Mommy and Me Yoga together. We stretch, sing, dance, and play with other mamas and little ones. It’s delightful.

And when my son sleeps, I write.

I write and weave together story, philosophy, and gratitude. I knit the love I feel into the words appearing on my computer screen. I smile, marvel, and sigh as tears and syntax flow.

Being a mother awakens a fierce and gentle strength. I know I’m not alone in staying up late at night while my son sleeps to bring in extra money for the family. A “gap” exists between what my husband makes and what we “need”. It’s all about priorities. I won’t capitulate to pressure to return full time to paid work. Instead, I navigate as skillfully as possible, as fearlessly as possible, as boldly as possible, a way to give my heart , and my best, to our son.

These precious early years are priceless. They are worth more than all of the world’s gold. I’m investing in the future emotional health of this little one. I’m investing in the health of all of those who will one day cross his path.

I’ve never worked harder to stay-at-home. On good days, I smile at the irony of it.

I didn’t anticipate this and yet, I embrace it with determination and grace.

A Day To Live Again

Oh little boy.

If I could just pick one day in my life to live over and over again, it may well be today.

Why not? It was a perfect day with you.

We played in the ocean. You “swam” with my hands on your body offering support, guidance, and safety. You loved the waves! You tasted the salt water on your lips with wonder. The sunlight sparkled in your big, blue eyes. May you always nurture your connection to the outdoors and honor the mother ocean, a vital source of life on this earth.

When we got home, you laughed with me as you played tag around the brown arm-chair in the front room. Deep, full, belly laughs emerged and your new teeth sparkled. You ducked behind the chair and popped out with a “Boo!” as if it was the most amazing thing in the world. I bow in gratitude to this miracle of loving you play and find magic in the common place. That chair will never the same in my memory. A door outside of time opened up as we played. Our laughter built a bridge unifying and connecting us to all mothers and children across the generations. May you always relish the deep, life-affirming laughter found in the most simple of games.

After lunch, we went outside and you chased the cat clicking your tongue as you hear me do that when I call her. This reminds me to be ever mindful that you watch me with care. May I always speak, walk, act, and love with a gracious respect for all life.

As the sun set, we played in the back of your dad’s blue Ford pick-up truck. I drummed out a song on the steel bed. You spun around and around a few times dancing. A vast, immense sky of stars emerged above you. You are my star. My child of wonder.

Later, cuddled next to me, I surrendered to the beyond-this-world-tenderness of you snuggling into my arms and nursing to sleep.

If I could live any day in my life over again, it would certainly be a day when you breastfed. I love the holy kindness that comes from the way you suckle milk from my body. It nourishes your every cell. It’s completeness incarnate. Joy incarnate.

I just love you little one. My sweet boy. My courageous, funny, go-down-the-slide-yourself little guy. May you always know how precious you are to me. May you always trust that I’ve got your back. May you know how much your mother loves you, all the way through the marrow of her bones. Because I do.

No matter what happens in this world. No matter what happens at all. These days are holy and precious beyond money, beyond gold, beyond anything. I love offering you the best of my time and energy. I honor each stage of your early development. How blessed we are to spend these days together. It’s perfection through and through. My heart fills with gratitude to your daddy who works long hours in the week to make this possible. We want to give you the best. We choose a life of simple things on the material level and offer you the deepest grace we can muster in the realm of what matters most.

If I could live one day again in my life—this precious, fleeting mysterious, challenging, and holy life— it would be a day like today with you.

Sleep well angel.

Mom

The Importance of Empathy

As mothers, especially those of us who practice attachment parenting; we truly believe that there is nothing more precious than our children. We love them unconditionally and raise them to be kind, loving, and compassionate towards others. We understand the importance of meeting our children’s unique and individual needs, and we strive to treat them with respect and understanding.

Credit MicrosoftOffice.com Clipart Photography collection

Growing up I was taught to treat everyone equal. “Treat others in the same manner that you would want to be treated” my mother would say. Why? Because it is the right thing to do. Now that I am a mother I realize that not only is it the right thing to do, but it is the necessary thing to do for several reasons. The whole theory behind AP is that by raising our children in an empathetic manner, we will be raising a more empathetic generation of children who are aware of the needs and feelings of others. This type of chain has the potential to impact society in a massively positive manner. I teach my daughter to be kind to others regardless of their differences not only because I want her to grow up to be a kind, compassionate member of society, but also because her peers will be right there alongside her as she grows. The way that children are treated now drastically impacts the way they will behave later in life. Children who are treated with kindness will generally grow to be kind individuals, while children who are bullied, teased, and treated like outcasts have a far greater chance of growing up to be hardened, distrusting, and aggressive. I would much rather my daughter grow to be surrounded by positive, empathetic, and caring people than by people who have been conditioned to expect the worst.

In filling in for another daycare provider last week, I was faced with the task of explaining to several children the importance of being kind and patient to a child with behavioral issues. I explained to them that they needed to be understanding and accepting of his differences and to treat him the same way that they want to be to treated. When this kind of acceptance is taught from an early age, it begins to shape the way that our children behave towards others. By raising our children to be kind and accepting, we are shaping a kinder and brighter future. And that’s the kind of world we want our children to live in!

A simple act of kindness can go a very long way.

Jillian Amodio is an author, writer, speaker, and Attachment Parenting advocate. First and foremost however she is a wife and mother. Jillian believes that family is life’s most precious gift. Her passion for family and parenting has led her to devote much of her work to educating others about topics pertaining to family, marriage, and parenting. Visit her website and blog to learn more about her work.

Never Stop Holding Hands

I remember when my children were newborns, they used to grasp my finger when I laid it in their tiny palms. A tight little grasp that seemed to say, “This is what I need. I want you here with me, and I’m not letting go.” I know it wasn’t cognitive; it was a reflex. A sign of normal brain functioning that slowly disappeared as they matured.

Though the reflex faded, the hand-holding didn’t. I continued to put my hand in theirs every opportunity I could. Maybe I was still checking to see if the reflex was still there. In some way, I think it was. You put your hand into a child’s hand and they can’t seem to help holding it back.

I held my kids’ hands when I bounced them on my lap, when they took their first steps, and when we toddled around the yard. I held their hands during doctor appointments, going to various classes, and meeting new people. I even held their hands when they didn’t need to be held. Like when they’d ride on my back in the soft carrier and I’d criss-cross my arms to grasp their little hands around my sides. Or when we were just sitting next to each other on the couch reading or watching a movie, or sometimes when we’d sit across from each other in a restaurant. There was never a time when I didn’t enjoy having their hands in mine.

Over the years and in a variety of situations, I have held my children’s hands gently, safely, respectfully, kindly, lovingly, firmly, and habitually.

Above all, purposefully. A mother’s touch provides children with an instant sense of belonging. Our embraces say, “You are here with me, and this is exactly where you belong.”

Most recently, I held my kids’ hands as we navigated the parks at Disney World. In these busy parks, I never worried about where they were or that they might run off and disappear into the sea of bodies that filled park walkways. Because my kids never stopped seeking my hands. My hand-hold with each of them was their point of security in an extremely stimulating, constantly noisy, constantly busy environment. My hand, as it always has been, was their connection to safety. It was where they belonged, and it was where they wanted to be. Walking hand in hand.

Meeting Parents Where They’re At

I’m hard core when it comes to attachment-minded parenting practices in my home. I’m full-on natural birthing, breastfeeding, bedsharing, holding baby all the time, stay-at-home mommying or bringing baby to work with me, and loving guidance—which is why it surprises people that I don’t automatically condemn other parenting styles. For example, in another post, I made a statement that I don’t find spanking to be necessarily abusive and one person commented that this was Attachment Parenting heresy.

No, I don’t think that spanking has any place in an AP home. But, I’m also not naïve enough to think that spanking doesn’t sometimes happen. It may not be spanking—for some of us, our vice is yelling or sending a child to his room. We all make mistakes, and the idea that an AP parent never loses her cool is unrealistic. As importantly, we are all in different places on our own parenting journeys and just because a parent is still working on her issues and emotions doesn’t make her a bad parent.

When I work with parents, it’s important to remember that my role is not to change their minds about parenting, but rather to present them with the most up-to-date information regarding childrearing and then to support them in making their own decisions. I’m not the parenting police, so if a parent is spanking her child, it’s not my role to tell her to stop it. Rather, I can offer her information regarding the effects of punishment versus non-punitive discipline and then offer suggestions on moving toward a less punitive environment. But it is her choice, of course, to pursue that path. And it is my responsibility to not judge.

I cannot know what all goes into another parent’s choices. I may know a little, but even her or his spouse or partner likely doesn’t know the whole story. The parent her- or himself may not fully know.

It can be difficult to apply the AP mindset to our adult relationships, because after all, we’re adults and shouldn’t we know better? But once we’ve mastered what it takes to have a secure parent-child connection, taking it to the next level – with our spouse, our own parents, our friends, strangers in the car ahead of us that just cut us off, the really rude woman in line at the cash register, and so on – is the next frontier.

Of course, I’m not talking about bedsharing and breastfeeding when it comes to applying AP to adult relationships, but rather the attitude of unconditional acceptance and loving support. AP isn’t about whether or not we do certain parenting techniques but rather about the attitude that we’re bringing with those techniques. Spanking just isn’t of unconditional love; it’s of control and trying to change a person by force, rather than empowering that person to change themselves through their own choice.

It’s this attitude change that makes AP successful in families. If parents focus just on the parenting techniques themselves—to not punish, but without the AP mindset—they’re going to end up very frustrated and regressing again and again, or else confused or unsure about limits and therefore permissive.

The best way to teach AP, whether to our children or to our spouse or to another adult in our lives, is to model it. And judging others isn’t AP. We have to learn how to meet parents where they’re at in their parenting journeys right now, not where we think they should be, and to provide them the support they need to meet their goals of raising a secure, trusting, empathetic, affectionate, and joyful child.

Weaning Early

I didn’t think much about parenting before I became a mom, but when it came to breastfeeding, there was never a question in my mind that we would nurse.

From the moment she latched on, I knew we would be doing this for a long, long time.

And so, on the week of her first birthday, when I found out I needed to have a biopsy for a polyp in my sinuses, I was horrified because the anesthesia would mean we would need to pump and dump my milk for a few hours. Even more alarming was my doctor’s insistence that the medication I would need to help whatever was going on would require me to wean.

On my drive home from that doctor’s visit, all I could think about in the car was having to wean Kaylee. And how that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

When I walked in the door and screamed for my mom, I expected the words out of my mouth to be about weaning Kaylee.

“I may have cancer.” Came crying out as I held my mother tighter than I had before. And I realized that there was much more at stake than nursing.

Two days later, I awoke from surgery and heard the news, suddenly weaning was not in my mind as much as living. And as I watched my daughter open her birthday presents that weekend, I could only hope to see her do the same at Christmas. Just a few short months away.

The next week, I had my first appointment at Sloan Kettering. It was on the 9th floor with the other pediatric patients.

I had Kaylee with me. I had been nursing her frantically. The only time I could maintain any sense of calm was during that beautiful time we shared.

One that I knew was going to end soon.

During the appointment, I was given my options for treatment.

I faced the most difficult decision of my life.

And I chose to give up a year of my life, to save the rest.

But it wasn’t just my life, it was the life of my little girl.

She who would need to go from sleeping by her mothers side and nursing on demand to having a mother who was rarely around.

We had a week to wean before treatment began.

My first thought was to let her nurse as much as possible, even encourage it. Let her enjoy it while it lasted.

But, it just didn’t sit well in my heart. She was only 1. I couldn’t tell her what was happening. It seemed more cruel to go from more than enough to nothing.

I changed tactics. When she came over to nurse, I would offer a hug and a smile. Tell her I love her and act as if that was all I needed as well.

And she was okay with the hugs. She stopped asking to nurse after a day.

Nighttime was a different story.

I didn’t have it in me to try to stop. She was still up every 2 hours and I was not in a place to try to get that to stop with so little time. Sleep was hard enough as it was!

And so, the night weaning was like ripping off a bandaid. Where I was the bandaid, and just like that, I was taken away and it was up to my daughter and her father to get through those first milkless nights.

I was weaning on my own.

Pumped milk is like gold. A precious commodity, you don’t want to lose a drop.

But my pumped milk was poison. With toxicity so great, I felt guilt every time I poured it down the drain.

Unable to fight any infection in my body, I had to be sure to pump milk regularly, because any plugged duct had the capability of endangering my life. At the same time, I had to get my breasts to stop making milk.

And so, it was a delicate balance. A tedious process that was draining physically and mentally.

In time, the milk was gone.

I think back to those first few weeks.

The diagnosis. Leaving home. Being sick.

And out of all the traumas of that year, its this experience.

Of pumping and dumping.

Of being scared to sleep with my child for fear she would start nursing.

Of weaning. Too early and too abruptly. Of having the experience last for weeks with every drop of milk that went down the drain.

And perhaps that is because its just not something anyone spoke about. Everything else seemed so big, weaning was just an aside.

And yet, the pain and heartbreak were tremendous.

Perhaps I will be graced with another child someday. A child that will wean gracefully. A child that will have their mother during their second year of life. A child who has happily married, healthy parents.

And that is a lovely, heartwarming thought. One that brings tears to my eyes.

But thats not what I need. And that life is not any better than Kaylee’s life.

Children don’t need to be protected from experiencing life. They need to be given the tools to help them get through it.

Kaylee is okay.

She is more than okay, she is incredible.

Well spoken, creative and compassionate. She is the walking example that all you need is love.

I wouldn’t take away any of her experiences regardless of how awful they may have been. They are hers to have had.

We spend a lot of time worry about messing up our kids.

Those traumatic experiences they encounter that we could have prevented.

The times we lose our cool and let our anger get the best of us.

We neglect ourselves trying to get it right.

Obsessing about the day to day encounters and experiences.

But its not our job to be perfect. Its not our job to make our children’s lives easy. Nor is it our job to push ourselves beyond healthy limits and boundaries because we are scared.

Its our job to Love. To give compassion. To teach and guide.

To forgive ourselves and others so that our children can too.

Whatever worry you have on your mind. Whatever struggle at the moment. Its going to be okay. Your child is going to be okay. The experiences and traumas we encounter cultivate who we become.

And when we are given love we become love and thats all any of us need.

Love through the eyes of a new parent

We spend a lot of time thinking about faults. Our faults, those of people around us, our employers, politicians, even the world’s. In fact, once you start looking, you could spend a lifetime finding faults.

But finding faults makes us feel awful. It weighs us down and darkens our experience of life. Just as finding beauty boosts our experience of joy, finding faults pulls us into misery.

In fact, once we start looking at the world through a lens of joy and gratitude, we can recognize another world, hidden inside the one that we believed to be hopelessly flawed.

Once we start to recognize the light that shines from within each of us, we stand witness as it glows and flourishes, brightening the space that had been filled with shadows.

For me, motherhood was that pinnacle moment when I began to see how much light is in the world. My greatest teacher? My baby.

Babies are new to this world, possessed of an innocence that draws us right in. As we begin to bond and connect with them, we are drawn into their experience, surrounded by love and adoration. We find parts of ourselves awaken, those that yearn to nurture and nourish. We find our logical brains shutting down, bringing us into an experience of pure emotion and awe.

For me, those early days were some of the most pivotal in my life. While I didn’t recognize exactly what was happening at the time, I knew something inside was shifting, something I will be processing for the rest of this lifetime.

Parenting a newborn can provide a reset button, an opportunity to view one tiny soul as being entirely pure, and wanting to pour all of your light into them. Imagine if we shined this lens on everyone around us!

The vast majority of parents succeed in viewing their children through a lens of pure love, at least for an instant, now or then. What if we could sustain that focus in the lives of our children? What if we shined it on our spouses or companions? Our friends and families? Our coworkers? On world leaders?

The possibilities are endless. The more we approach our parenting from compassion, the more light we’re able to experience, and the more joy we have available to shine on our children. The same holds for every other relationship we have.

What if we could look past expectations, past deeds, even current behavior? What if we could see each person for the light that they bring to this world? What a beautiful world we would make.