Respond with Sensitivity – Page 58

Conversation as a Discipline Technique

Conversation About a Very Special Quilt!

As a child, I was raised in a “children should be seen and not heard” culture, and most of the talking was of the lecture sort, made by a parent, after I’d made my mistake. I was often not permitted to have input. It is very difficult to know what’s expected of you if you’ve never been told. I often felt frustrated and invalidated and it left me socially awkward and uncomfortable and more likely to make further mistakes.

As part of leaving this paradigm behind, embracing attachment parenting, and knowing that children understand things long before they can speak, it was important to me to start conversing with my children immediately and I likely appeared pretty odd as I explained to a newborn why I was buying a particular brand of Canadian grown mushrooms.
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No “No”

While I was doing my grocery shopping the other day with Sweet Pea snuggled on my chest in the wrap, I passed another momma with a child who was probably about three. When we first crossed paths, she was telling him, “No, you can’t have cookies.” When he pushed the issue, she said, “There’s cookies at home!” Our families ran into each other (once literally, since my cart had a broken wheel) about four times over the next hour as we stocked up on yummy things to eat. Three out of those four times, she was telling her son “no” about something.

My intention isn’t to criticize her parenting, or the use of the word “no” in general. She was using it to set boundaries, some of which were specifically to keep her son safe (“No, you can’t ride on the side of the cart.”). It did reinforce for me, though, how important I think it is to not overuse the word “no.” Continue reading “No “No””

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.
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Soon they are best friends (Part 4 in a series on having baby #2)

This is the fourth and last post in a series on preparing for a second baby. If you haven’t read them already, check out the first part What on Earth Were We Thinking? and the second part To tandem or not to tandem, and third part Move over: making room for one more in the bed.

July 021

It wasn’t long until my anxiety about bringing a second child into our home gave way to the reality and excitement of introducing our little girl to the family. Our son was generally excited about having her around, but like any child he had his moments…moments where, for example, he said “Baby sister go back in mommy’s tummy now.” But those moments were few and far between and what I remember more than anything else was my son being a devoted big brother, one that was loving and helpful with his little sister. I remember him wanting to hold her and glowing when he did. I remember him getting her to giggle and laugh.

I think part of the reason things turned out so well is our capacity as humans to love. Our capacity as parents to expand our hearts and find so much more love. My son’s capacity to open his heart to this new little intruder in his life. But the other reason things turned out so well was that we prepared and we adapted.

So what can you do to prepare your older child? How can you make things easier for the big brother or sister?

What on earth were we thinking? (Part 1 of series on preparing for baby #2)

Panic.

Complete panic.

It’s 3:00am. I’m 30 weeks pregnant. My 2 year old son wakes up again and wants Mommy. I nurse him back to sleep, get up to pee again (pregnant bladder) and try to find a comfortable position to sleep where my huge belly is neither making me uncomfortable nor in danger of being kicked by a restless toddler.

What on earth were we thinking?

What the hell am I going to do when a newborn and a toddler both have nighttime needs?

Were we wrong to want another baby when our boy was still so much a baby himself? Should we have listened to “mainstream” parenting advice and pushed him away, made him independent, toughened him up? Continue reading “What on earth were we thinking? (Part 1 of series on preparing for baby #2)”

Stepping Out

My 14 month old kicks her feet against the table and makes a deafening screech while reaching for her Daddy’s beverage at the restaurant. As he allows her to have a sip of his drink, I look around to see how many fellow diners are tsk tsking our choice to allow our baby to drink what they must think is SODA! I have the overwhelming urge to announce “It’s only unsweetened iced tea…really. She never has soda, I swear.” But that would not be entirely true and besides, now our five year old is loudly promising to eat the rest of her pasta and veggies after she eats all of the french fries…she promises. The floor is covered in the crushed remains of the fire roasted zucchini and rice pilaf dish we ordered for the baby…her grinning mouth is dripping and bubbling with ice tea, not one single piece of food has passed her lips. I eat my (now cold) food with one hand (not my dominant one) while liberally applying even more ketchup to my daughters fries. My husband is fishing ice out of his cup with a fork to entice the baby with since the tea is now gone and the she is gearing up for another screech fest. Did I mention that our teenager ordered nothing but appetizers and is sulking in the corner of the booth because I went ahead and surreptitiously ordered her a salad and had the gall to ask her to please put some green food in her body before loading it with junk? The single thought running through my head is: If they eat this junky stuff, then everyone in the restaurant will assume that they eat like this all of the time…and that I let them do it! Continue reading “Stepping Out”

Who’s the Boss?

Like most people I know, I spent my adolescence longing for true independence. Though my parents certainly weren’t oppressive, I was always anxious to assume control of my own life. I wanted to decide for myself, everything from whether to become a vegetarian, to what I wanted to do with my Saturday afternoon or when I wanted to go to bed. Adulthood, even with all its responsibilities, was freedom; finally, I was my own boss. Eventually, I partnered with an amazing man, and together we took charge of our new life. Six years later, I gave birth to our baby girl . . . and was instantly demoted.

Meet the new boss. After only 21 months on the job, she’s shaken things up quite a bit at our place. So much for deciding for myself when I wanted to go to bed. These days, plans often don’t proceed – well, as I planned – because the youngest person in our family has different ideas. And more often than not, when such conflicts arise, we defer to our daughter. (Within reason and safety permitting, of course.)

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Super Mom Retires

When I was a younger mommy and parenting my first two children, I worried a lot about whether I was meeting expectations. Of course, my first priority was my children and their well-being, but right after that was making sure that I gave the impression of being confident, completely competent, and like I was the type of mom who could do it all. I adhered to the belief that I could have clean, well-dressed, well-behaved children who were a joy, all while being perfectly coiffed, stylishly dressed and madly successful. All I had to do was work hard enough, put in enough effort, and always be doing something. I could have it all.

It makes me tired now just to write that. Continue reading “Super Mom Retires”