Provide Consistent & Loving Care – Page 24

The Practice of Attachment Parenting

There are days when I think to myself, “I shouldn’t call what I do attachment parenting – because quite honestly, today was anything but.”

I never thought of attachment parenting with any interest until about a year ago, right after Bella was born. Before that, I just knew I didn’t want to spank or hit, and wanted to treat my child with respect and dignity. I fell in love with babywearing along the way, and extended breastfeeding happened because it became a joy after the horrible months of reflux and colic in her infancy.

I began to find myself drawn into the attachment line of thinking once I knew I was going to be able to be a stay at home mom. I have always had a passion for working with children, from being a nanny to teaching – I would read constantly about how to be a better caregiver and educator. So it was only natural to start to think of motherhood in that way, and to decide what kind of a mother I wanted to be on a daily/hourly basis.
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I’m Bored

I know I must have used that little phrase a few times when I was young but I honestly can’t remember. I remember one time being in the house while it was raining, I was about 9 or 10 years old and I remember feeling bored. Strange isn’t it? Strange that I can actually remember an “I’m bored” moment.

Why wasn’t I bored? Well. For one we had a television off and on throughout my growing up but more off than on and when we did have it we watched a movie or educational show occasionally, we didn’t have cable or anything. I didn’t play video games. I remember when I was 12 or so someone gave us an old Playstation and Mario Bros and we played that sometimes, but since we weren’t in the habit, it mostly sat there and collected dust.My mom got a computer and we did educational games and some of our school on it, but it was fairly limited while my mother plays some casino games on the computer meanwhile. A lot of it was self-limitation. Why? Because we weren’t in the habit. As a grown-up, in free time. I also like to have stuff like my mom play poker games on the computer, but in today’s technology rather than playing games on the computer, you can play real poker at top online casino malaysia as well as earn money, and kill your boredom,. But while kids, games were pretty different. so here we go. There was some boredom games.

My siblings and I played outside. We helped my mom bake. We had chores. Yes. Chores. I think that they may have been the best thing that ever happened to us. We were responsible for animals and gardening and things that were important to our family. My parents really instilled in us that the things we did were important, that they helped the family function and because of that we took pride in doing our part. Sure, sometimes we complained and didn’t want to do it. It’s not like we were angelic or anything. But for the most part we felt good about ourselves when we were helping out.

When it looked like boredom or arguing was setting in my mom would always say “well there are a list of things that need to be done…”, we figured out that we weren’t quite that bored very quickly or sometimes we would accept a “chore.” Why? Because we didn’t want to be bored.

It helped that I watched my parents doing the same thing. My dad was always doing projects and chores and even doing some of the cooking and laundry etc. My mom was always knitting something or learning something or doing something with us and the animals as well as doing things like starting a local drama club or running parts of our local fair. It kept them content. It kept us content. Boredom was just not an option.

To this day, thanks to my parents, every time I am “bored” I am able to motivate and find something to do, either a project or a chore that will keep my mind or my hands busy. I hope that I am able to instill this in my son. I hope that by demonstration and to a large degree eliminating artificial outward stimulants in his life that he will come to find that he is a creative and productive person that is essential to this family. Not because I say so, but because he is.

The Food Battle

It is raging. You know what I am talking about: the toddler food battle. My mom keeps quoting someone that she read (and I honestly would tell you who it is but she doesn’t remember, and it is paraphrased I am sure): “Any child worth his salt will put up a fight.” Well, my son is worth his weight in salt. Most of us could probably say that about our toddlers.

I am not a restaurant. I am not planning on becoming one either. I also don’t want my child to be someone who eats at someone’s house and refuses to eat anything or doesn’t eat a healthy variety. Now, on the other hand the picky eating of toddlers is not all their fault. They are super sensitive to both texture and taste which sometimes makes it completely maddening to try and feed my mini man.

We’re working on striking a balance with the Berryman Frozen Fruit. I feed him a breakfast that I am as sure as I possibly can be that he will eat though he sometimes refuses the fruit that I serve with breakfast. Right now his current favorites are flapjacks and oatmeal and occasionally an omelette. OK. Sometimes he refuses and we have an early lunch. My caloric intake is just about double of what he takes, which is probably because I take a scoop of Mindzymes supplements right before I work out.

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Lunch is a bit trickier but I’ve found that quesadillas with some hiden shredded or chunked chicken will work, usually I try to use whole wheat tortillas. Macs n’ cheese, I have found some great corn macaroni and use real cheese. Whole wheat pigs in a blanket. And then there is the good ol’ pbj. Bananas, he’ll eat bananas and apples sometimes as well, I’ve tried every berry in the book and the occasional strawberry or grapes.

Dinner is tricky. I like to eat adult food. He does not. I am also not a restaurant and there are quite a few foods that we eat and are good for him that my son can eat but doesn’t. So now what? I do offer one other choice that we are serving, he doesn’t have to eat the peas but I will offer another slice of bread etc. But then it’s done. I will offer something like yogurt or cheese, something I choose sometime before bed. There isn’t a discussion about it, I offer because I don’t want him to go to bed hungry.

Snacks. Right now they are the children’s Clif bars. Yeah, I would love to say that I am making the snacks, but he isn’t eating what I make as snacks for the most part, so there ya go. There are some battles that just aren’t worth fighting.

I am holding out for the day where his taste palate expands somewhat until then we’ll keep walking the fine line between letting my little dude know that he can’t order from me like a restaurant but also that he eats as healthy as possible on a regular basis.

That, and I give him a good fruit and veggie based supplement.

Photos used from: http://www.flickr.com/photos/polishfoodinfo/4146917212/

Holiday Discipline and Family

I live in a community of people. Sometimes I feel that I am raising my son in a fish bowl of sorts. There are some interesting challenges that come up that are particularly relevant during the holiday season. One of the most difficult parts about being around a lot of people, especially family during the holidays, is discipline.

I have a great example from my community that took place the other day in our kitchen. There was a normal (albeit very naughty, which unfortunately is the norm right now) interchange between my son and my sister. The interchange involved my son saying that he didn’t like my sister which of course isn’t true but I could still see her face cloud up with hurt. The reaction from my brother-in-law was what bugged me. My brother in law took it upon himself to tell my son that what he had done was wrong and then told him that he needed to apologize to my sister.

Now, I know since we live in such close contact with other people that they do need to the right to put my son down if he is mean or to walk away. I don’t think that anyone needs to be held captive by my son’s fits. But there is also a line where family or community stops and parenting begins and that is what brings us to the holiday season.

Have you and your partner discussed a plan of action? How are you going to handle family members who step in to parenting territory? How are you going to discipline your child in front of people? Are you going to let them get away with things that you are normally on top of because you don’t want conflict?

I had it easy the other day because my mother stepped in and told my brother-in-law that it was the parents choice as to what kind of discipline my child received. I had some back up. Unfortunately that probably isn’t going to happen during your family holiday so it is important that you and your partner are on the same page and that you stick with your pre-discussed “rules” if you will, no matter how uncomfortable the situation.

It is easy to just shrug off individual moments or to think “it’s just the holidays, after this things will go back to normal.” but life is full of little moments and those little moments are what make all the difference in your life as a parent and the life of your child.

So what is your holiday discipline plan?

Photo used from: http://www.flickr.com/photos/joeshlabotnik/2964752310/

Trying

I used to chuckle just a little bit when people said that they were “trying” to have a baby. I mean, didn’t anyone ever teach them about sex? You do it. You get pregnant. Not always right away, but it does happen unless there is a problem. If there is a problem, then you might need a little help.

Well, that is what I thought.

I came by that thought fairly honestly. My mother never had any trouble getting pregnant; I was a honeymoon baby and so was my son.

I thought that getting pregnant with the second one would be just as “easy.” We didn’t even consider “trying”, we just went about our normal lives and…. nothing. I know that there are those of you who have experienced this; some with your first, some with your second or more. But, I really couldn’t imagine how we could be pregnant immediately with our son but now it has been, well, a while, and nothing!
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Numero Dos: Sharing The Love.

As the date of our big move from the U.S. to Canada approaches and we shuffle from one generous friend’s abode to another, this pregnancy, the little growing one all snug in my tummy, often seems to take a back seat (not in the back of our Volkswagen Golf, but in the back of a very long bus)–which makes me a little sad. Aside from the slowly, and finally, dissipating constant nausea and fatigue, my little tummy buddy hasn’t gotten much air time in any sense of the word over these last 13 weeks.

I can remember the last time I shared my body. It was a little over two years ago. From the day that joyous pink line appeared across the plastic pee stick, little Noah Finn was all that I could think about despite the fact that I was working everyday. I woke up and thought pregnancy, I peed (a lot) and thought pregnancy, I taught and thought pregnancy, I ate (a lot) and thought pregnancy, I slept (very little) and dreamed pregnancy. My growing abdomen was always on my mind.

This time is definitely different. Running after a bouncing, bounding, boisterous toddler while volleying between temporary living situations has certainly captivated the time that I don’t spend eating and sleeping. The fact of the matter is that constant urges to snack and slumber aside, I often forget that I’m pregnant.

What does all of this mean? Is it normal? I am betting so. But it certainly does recall those initial pangs of subtle trepidation I first experienced when pregnancy test number two revealed yet again that solid pink line: sharing the love. How does a mama who has experienced everything about mommying–pregnancy, birth, mothering–with one child not feel guilt about sharing such sacredness with another? It feels almost like cheating on the first.

Melodramatic? Perhaps. But, these are real anxieties, that while slowly fading as the months tick away, remain present nonetheless.

So, how does a mommy share the love–that smothering, doting, gooey love that’s gushed all over the first with the second and subsequent bundles of joy? Will my little Noah feel shortchanged and left out the decision making process–after all, he had no vote here!? Will he harbor feelings of abandonment and isolation, regress and insist on learning the alphabet Z thru A?

Think I’m being melodramatic, again? Perhaps. But these are tangible fears that I sometimes think about. That is, when I remember I’m pregnant anyway.

To Detach Him without Detaching

My son has reached 2 1/2. Okay, so we have a few days left but it is almost here. It is scaring me a little. I can’t believe he is growing up so fast. He is making huge leaps in his development lately; his vocabulary is growing by leaps and bounds and he is growing like crazy. He is now looking like a little boy and not the baby that I know so well. He is demanding, creative, tiring and inspiring in all kinds of new ways.

Our most recent dilemma has to do with carrying him everywhere. He now weighs about 30 pounds and I just can’t handle carrying him all of the time anymore. I would like to but my back is starting to protest. I am not talking about just carrying him in to a store or anything like that I mean carrying him while we are in the store and holding him while I am chatting with someone for 20 minutes, things like that. It is killing me. He also wants me to hold him at home a lot of the time. I was in so much pain at bedtime just the other evening and told my husband that I had no idea why, I thought back over my day and realized that I had been carrying my son on and off all day long. I realized that this has got to stop. For the both of us. It is time that I detach him. I do not mean detach from him. He is still my little boy, he needs me, he needs my affection and he needs to be physically close to me multiple times during the day but we are taking some steps to ensure that it is comfortable for the both of us but let me tell you this particular “detachment” process is not easy!

Yesterday we were in town and every time I had my little man walk (holding my hand) he would cry and ask me to carry him. I would smile reassuringly and tell him that he was a big boy and he could hold my hand but he needed to walk on his own. It was not a very relaxing trip to say the least.

All day today my son has wanted me to carry him or stand there holding him for no particular reason. I have had to explain to him that I love him very much and he can feel free to hold on to my leg and I will give him hugs and if he needs to sit with me we can find a place to sit for a while but that he is a big boy now and mommy can’t hold him all of the time. Crying ensues and I take a deep breath as the irritation rises in me and remind myself that this is a whole new step for the both of us, we are having to “detach” in a healthy way without detaching emotionally and without removing the comfort of physical affection, we are just having to move it in to an arena that is comfortable for mom and encourages mini man to grow.

Finding Grace and Love in Potty Training?

Potty training. Again. While I’ve done this twice already with varying degrees of difficulty, I still find the process to be exhausting. Most days, I want to throw all the cloth diapers out the window – other days I want to chuck the potty seat and trainers along with my determination to teach this skill.

What transition are you working on? Moving your child from your bed to a crib, weaning from breast milk to bottle or cup or giving up diapers in exchange for the potty are not small tasks. And even if you’ve done them before, the reality is you’ve never made this change with this child. It’s all new to him or her. Some changes come about quickly while others drag on stubbornly. That’s where we are with potty training.

Before giving up (or forcing my will upon the poor child), I’ve found it’s helpful to examine my motives behind making the transition at this time.

Motivations for change often fall into three categories:

Shame/embarrassment. You know you should have taught this skill sooner but didn’t. Maybe you waited until your baby was nine-months old before introducing a bottle. (I’ve been there.) Or you waited until your four-year-old became so big that you can no longer sleep in your own bed comfortably and must demand they sleep elsewhere. The logical part of your brain knows that developmentally, there is no reason why your child is unable to make the change. But the emotional parent part of your brain is too afraid to make it happen.
Anger/resentment. Do you feel so tired of the way things are and find yourself blaming your child? Maybe you wonder why they can’t just do (or stop doing) this one thing. After a lot of introspection, I realize I’m probably in this category. I don’t feel resentment, but after more than eight years of changing diapers; I’m very, very tired of it. Perhaps I’m ready to move on whether my daughter is or not.
Competition. You really want to tell the grandparents, or other moms, that your little prodigy accomplished this transition easily and early. You want to brag a little about whatever milestone would give you this edge on being a good mother. It sounds shallow, and you will probably deny you’ve ever felt this way, but chances are you really are competing with another person’s timetable.

I’m tired of changing diapers, that’s for sure. I suspect there’s a little more going on as well. This is my youngest of three children and we are certainly not having any more. I stopped trying to hold on to the baby years mostly because she refused to stay in the baby phase, reaching all of her physical milestones many months before her older sisters.

But I also prefer to breeze through a transition without marking its passing; hoping to avoid any sadness or longing on my part. She gave up breastfeeding sometime in her 17th month, but I do not have a memory of the “last” time nor did I want to dwell on it. I loved breastfeeding and while a part of me misses this connection; I knew that marking an official end would be too painful. We simply moved on.

Potty training will also mark an end to my baby and toddler years. This independence will mean I no longer have any babies in my care. No more diapers. While it will be sweet freedom, it will also mark a major transition for me as a mother. Dragging out this transition for so many months just prolongs the pain.

I’ve come to realize that the one thing that is required of me at this time is love. My daughter will be potty trained in the near future. (I sometimes chant this just to convince myself.)

It’s my job to love her, to love the stage we are in and to use this love to fuel my patience.

It’s this love that will also lift me out of sadness when I realize there are no more babies, no more toddlers and someday, no more little girls in my care.

So, I’ve made a few changes to how we go about potty training. I removed the changing table from her room. We don’t use it anyway and it helps us solidify the transition taking place. I also added disposable diapers to my shopping list. While we use only two diapers a day for nap and bedtime, I need the mental and physical break from washing them. We’ll continue making the transition using consistent behaviors, but I’ll relax my timetable and renew my love for caring for a toddler.

Mom Dare: Life is filled with one transition after another. Look at what changes you are trying to make in your life and with your children. Examine your motivations, remove the negative emotions and concentrate on love. Use this positive emotion to feed your actions each day as you bring about a positive change.