Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Bugs

I have a fear of bugs.

I'm sure this isn't surprising, as most women I know have some sort of fear of the icky, crawly things.  Spiders, snakes, insects....I have ZERO love for them.  I suppose they all have some part to play in the rhythm of life, but I have no desire to know what that is. 

Being the only woman in the house means that I'm in for a bit of trouble.  If my niece can pick up bullfrogs and carry them around at the tender age of 5, I'm sure my sons will do at LEAST that....if not worse.  (My niece is now 8 and very girly...wonder if she'll be picking up bullfrogs this summer....) 

Right outside our front door is a HUGE colony of ants.  And I mean HUGE.  Last spring, my husband managed to make a natural ant-killer and covered our front pathway and steps.  However, the ants are back, in full force.  I don't know where they've come from, but they are everywhere.  As we were coming in the house the other day, my oldest son just stopped and stared at all the movement on the ground.  Of course, the "what's that" questions followed.  I managed to give a few quick answers and ushered him into the house with very little incident.  But it got me thinking...how long before he wants to touch bugs?  Pick them up?  SHOW me his new prizes?!?  I shudder at the thought. 

The last place I want my children to learn fear is from me.  I don't want them to enter into life with preconceived notions like "bugs are scary".  I want to nurture their curiosity and help them learn about the world around them, even if it's something I have no interest in.  I mean, that's my job...right?  Hopefully, most of this will be my husband's domain (they can discuss it while he's teaching them to bait fishing hooks), but the reality is, I'm with the kids the most.  During the summer, it will be me taking them outside.  At some point I'm going to have to get over my fears and encourage my children to be open to the world around them. 

At the very least, I know I need to wipe the "ewww gross" look off my face when I'm explaining what ants are to the 2 year old.  That is a start...right?

Monday, March 29, 2010

Aging brilliantly

I'm about to turn 35.  THIRTY FIVE.  For some reason, that is a "scary age" for me.  I love my birthday, and really, I feel the best that I have in years.  I've officially lost 20lbs, and I feel amazing.  From that perspective, I actually feel young.  When I look in the mirror, I still see my young self.  The accomplishments in my life (namely my children) let me know that I'm older than the face in the mirror seems.  But older in my case definitely means better. 

But 35 means I'm now in a new check box on a survey.  I'm in the 35-44 age range on a questionaire.  When I have to tell someone out loud how old I am, it sounds old to me. 

Fortunately, with age comes wisdom.  At least one would hope.  This journey of detoxifying my life means that I am constantly engaging in self-reflection.  This isn't a bad thing -- rather, quite the opposite.  I like learning about myself, about others, about how we are making our way through this journey called "life".  I want to keep growing and learning to be a better version of myself.  I think I owe that to myself, my husband and my children.

I'm listening to Raquel Welch describe what it means to "age brilliantly".  I guess it means something different for everyone, but for me it means living every moment of my life to the fullest.  EVERY moment.  Even the moments I wish I was somewhere else.  We've been having a rough go with the baby lately and there have been several moments when I just wanted him to stop screaming and sleep.  I've doubted myself more in the last month than I have since I became a parent nearly 3 years ago.  Part of me feels like a failure because I can't seem to fix this myself.  But maybe that's what it means to be wise -- to know when you're beat and ask for help.  I'm sure I'll have more grey hair by the time this child turns one, but even at our lowest moments, I remind myself that I have the best job.  I have the sweetest children, and I am so lucky to live this life.  So, for now, I'll forget the number on my birth certificate and focus on living my life to the fullest.

Please remind me I said this when I complain that I'm tired. I need to relish these moments, because I know I'll be sad when they're gone. 

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

A baby on strike

The last few weeks have been difficult in our house.  Between back to back illnesses and teething, the baby has been somewhat...challenging.  He finally got over a cold and popped his first tooth so I thought we might be in the clear. 

But no.  Tooth # 2 seems to be presenting an even larger issue than the first one.  Or, because the first one was masked by a cold/cough that lasted over a month, it's very possible I didn't realize how sensitive to teething he really is. 

And now he's on strike.

I've never had to deal with this before.  Of course, I say "never" rather tongue in cheek considering I only have one other child to compare him to.  In all seriousness, I KNEW I had it easy with my first child, but the baby is certainly reminding me of that fact over and over again.  The toddler never "teethed".  His first tooth showed up one day when he was about 10 months old.  It took until just this past fall, when he was nearly 2.5 for his final teeth -- his incisors -- to show up.  Apparently they are the most painful.  I wouldn't know that though, because he never complained.  He also never, ever refused a feed.  I could have fed that child anytime, anywhere.  He was agreeable and adaptable.  And still is.

I know that the baby is in pain.  The drool is out of control and causing a nasty rash on his cheeks, chin and chest.  His sleep is terrible.  And yesterday, he went 12 hours and only nursed twice in that time.  And those were mostly out of necessity...he was that starving.  Of course, he makes up for it in the night, up every 1-2 hours to feed.  Which, I don't begrudge him.  I want him to eat.  But it's exhausting for mommy.

Logically, I know there is very little I can do about this mini nursing strike.  We're still trying to find ways to manage his pain, and so far, having very little success.  The good news is, in between times, he's a very happy baby.  Emotionally, though, it's hard knowing you're the "food train" so to speak and your child doesn't (or can't) want that!  I can keep telling myself "he won't starve himself", but that doesn't make it any easier. 

Like everything else, he's revealing his personality to me and it's up to me to pay attention.  I already know he's a very determined little boy.  Watching him move and reach and attempt to crawl is amazing.  I suspect he may be a little bit stubborn too.  Okay, maybe more than just a "little bit".  But his smile lights up a room, and that laugh...oh he's so easy to laugh...which lets me know that he's going to enjoy life a lot. 

So for now, I'll just hug him extra close, kiss him extra amounts, and when he's ready to come back and hang out with me, I'll be ready and waiting for him. 

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Food, glorious food

The baby has hit the 6 month mark and we've entered into the solid food stage. 

For the record, I hate this stage.  Sure, I should be excited about all the new things my baby gets to try.  But I'm a purist, and maybe just a little bit lazy.  To me, it's so much easier when breastfeeding is enough.  It's always the right temperature, always the right flavour and always with you.  I like it when the child can eat everything you're eating at the same texture you're eating it.  That is also easy.  It was great when my oldest child was about one year of age -- he could eat at a restaurant pretty easily, and since we were fortunate to avoid any allergies, we never had to be careful with what we gave him. 

I am more than a little bit anal when it comes to the food my children eat.  Sure, I'm pretty careful about what we as a family eat in general, but I tend to be even more uptight when it comes to my children.  I made all my own baby food when the toddler was at this age.  I actually enjoyed making his food.  Knowing I could control the ingredients (organic produce only!) and ensure I was giving him the healthiest start possible was great. 

So what's my issue then?  For some reason, it is during this stage that I question my parenting the most.  What do I feed first?  What comes next?  How do I introduce the food?  How old before I can stop listening to all the "rules"?  I have trouble with "rules".  I didn't pay attention to many when I had my first baby.  I introduced peanut butter at 9 months (gasp!).  He had honey before he was a year (double gasp!).  I'm pretty sure he had whole eggs before a year as well.  I just don't do well with rules. 

I'm a go-with-your-gut kind of parent.  I don't read parenting books.  I use common sense as much as possible and generally just do what feels right.  I'm not above polling my friends for opinions because I believe experience is the best teacher.  It's because of some of this sage advice I decided to try baby-led solids (a.k.a  baby-led weaning) this time around.  I had heard about this before, but by the time I knew enough about it, the toddler was through the puree stage.  Basically, the idea is to give the food...real food..and encourage self-feeding.  They'll be better eaters because they can explore, and enjoy, the food themselves.  (of course, there is a book that details this better than I can, but I don't plan on reading it...see above)  So far, so good.  The baby has taken to food SO quickly!  It's amazing to me how he can grab onto the chunks and get it to his mouth.  Oddly enough, I have forgotten everything I went through the first time.  What food to feed first?  When can I introduce meat?  But, overall, this is way easier. I can feed the baby what we're eating NOW, instead of making sure his food is all pureed.  And, because I am careful about what we eat (organics only!), I'm still comfortable with the nutrition he's getting. 

Maybe this time the food stage will be more fun so I can stop doubting myself.  And maybe this child will inherit my love of food. 

Friday, March 12, 2010

Spring fever

What is it about this weather that makes us all a little delirious?

I've been enjoying the sun.  We've been going out every day for walks, which is great considering the boys and myself have all had colds this week.  Of course the baby is hardest hit.  As I write this, I'm looking out the window and hoping the rain holds off so we can get out for another walk this morning. 

I've never felt the desire to be so active.  The sun seems to be calling me outside.  And of course, the boys seem to like being outside too, so that makes it easier to go out.  I love the smells of spring.  The fresh scent that permeates everything and just makes me want to wash my sheets every day so I can hang them on the line.  I love falling asleep to that scent. 

So instead of sitting inside, I'm going to pack up my two sickies and grab them some more of that fresh air.  Hope you're enjoying the weather too!

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Personality traits

My son is a scaredy cat.

I'm sure I've talked about this before, but the inherent personality differences between my two boys continues to amaze me.  Of course, everytime I think of this subject, I start pondering the whole nature vs. nurture thing.  I mean, same parents, same mama's milk.  It's fascinating. 

The toddler is a very sensitive, affectionate, empathetic little boy.  He is also very social, very talkative, and very engaging.  He loves being around people, yet can play independently as well.  He's extremely polite and contientious for someone his age.  He is very slow and doesn't like to be rushed.  He is very funny.  His mannerisms, experessions and the words out of his mouth constantly have us in stitches.  I am also discovering that he is very timid.  Not in a shy way (he certaintly isn't shy), but more in a "I don't want to try new things" kind of way.  He's not very adventurous. 

He's always been very little.  He is much smaller than his peers, and it took a long time before he was mobile.  He learned how to use his words at a very young age because that was all he had.  Even now, he is more apt to say "no" to something than to run away.  Unlike other kids his age, he doesn't run very fast, he doesn't climb, and he most certainly doesn't jump.  Well he THINKS he jumps, but it isn't really jumping as you or I would do.  All of this has made for easy parenting for me.  I never have to worry about "what he'll get into next".  I can leave him unsupervised while I go put the baby to bed or go to the bathroom because I know he'll still be where I left him. 

When I say he doesn't like to try new things, that isn't completely true.  He does have completely age appropriate behaviours.  The trouble is, he's so little, he can't quite do what his friends can do.  For example, he used to crawl up and down the stairs.  Now he always wants to walk up and down the stairs, while holding the railing.  He has very little legs, and can't walk up the stairs without always holding onto someone's hand as well.  He also can't reach the top of the railing, so he holds the spindles instead. 

I've been noticing lately that the older he gets, the more timid he seems to be getting.  Maybe timid is the wrong word.  Maybe "cautious" is a better term.  He will play independently, but only if I'm in the same room.  If I leave the room to go to the bathroom, or to put clothes in the laundry, he follows to find out where I've gone the second he notices I've left.  If he wants to go to another room to play with the toys that are there, he will only go if I accompany him.  He hates being lifted upside down and spun around.  His type of "rough housing" is done on the floor when he can control what is going on.  He hates it when you purposely try to "scare" him.  All of this is no big deal.  But what is more concerning is that he seems to have developed a giant fear of dogs. 

It's not like we're never around dogs, but they aren't part of our day-to-day routine.  His cousins have a very small dog and while it usually takes him a bit to get used to the jumpy, yappy nature of this dog, by the end of the visit he loves the dog and talks about her for days afterwards.  Last night we were at our friend's house, and they have a chocolate lab.  A beautiful, good natured dog who is about 5 times the size of my son.  As soon as the dog came within 10 feet of the toddler, he freaked out.  It got even worse when the dog got close to him.  I've never seen such terror in his face before, and all I wanted to do was protect him, yet at the same time I kept saying "don't worry, the puppy won't hurt you".  What do you do in that situation?  How do you encourage your child to be in a situation he clearly doesn't want to be in, yet you know he needs to learn how to cope with?  I don't want my child to be fearful of anything.  I want him to know that even if he's uncomfortable in a situation, he can cope.  I'm not getting a dog to help teach him this lesson though, so don't even suggest it.  (ha ha) 

The baby appears to be so different already.  He's so active, already trying to reach for things out of his grasp and learning how to move to get what he wants.  Everything makes him laugh, even when you purposely try to startle him.  He's too young for me to say he has "no fear" just yet, but the fact that he is already more mobile than the toddler ever was leads me to believe we may be in a bit of trouble with him.  We may actually have to baby proof the house this time. 

Sure, some of these personality traits are genetic.  I love to be around people and am very social.  But I hate being scared (I hate amusement park rides for just this reason).  But neither my husband or myself are overly fearful people.  We like trying new things (food, places, travelling), and we will put ourselves in uncomfortable situations to try and push ourselves to be better (see my post from last week as a recent example!)

Okay, so where does this come from?  How did my two boys, that both came out of me and both get the same food as sustenance, end up so different? 

My pregnancies were relatively similar, although I had a bit more hormonal rage the second time around.  But my birth experiences were completely opposite and I think some of their personality traits can be traced back to this.  The toddler's birth was totally one of fear.  I had no idea what to expect, I was scared of the unknown, and I relied on drugs to help me cope.  Drugs that didn't work.  I ended up being full of toxic drugs, and so did my son.  I was forced to try and push him out, before he was ready, for more than 3 hours.  When he finally came out, he was taken from me right away due to the presence of meconium in the amniotic fluid.  I spent most of the first 24 hours of his life away from him because he was in the NICU.  In fact, the first 5 days of his life he was in and out of the NICU, and then in and out of the isolette with the bright lights because of his jaundice.  It tooks us 5 days before we were able to get home to find our groove.  Fortunately, our breastfeeding relationship was always a good one -- a very successful one -- and I think that's what helped get us through our rough start.  Looking back, I'm glad I was so persistent and so sure that breastfeeding was the only choice for us.  I shudder to think of what other damage I may have done if I hadn't had that connection with him. 

The baby's birth was completely opposite in every sense.  I was educated about the process.  I knew what was happening to my body, and felt it important to bring my baby into the world in a calm way.  Drug free was the only option.  I gave birth to him at home, in the comfort of my own space, my own clothes, and surrounded my people who cared for me and supported me.  Even though he chose to enter the world in the most unorthodox of manners (which also leads me to believe we'll have trouble with him in the future! ha ha), he came when HE wanted to.  And although I didn't get to have him with me right after birth (due to his unorthodox presentation at birth), it wasn't long before he was in my arms and I was able to give him his first feed.  We spent the next few days together, and because we were at home, we weren't interrupted by strangers (a.k.a nurses) and found our own groove immediately. 

I really believe that the birth experience plays a part in shaping the child.  Maybe my oldest would be a timid, sensitive, cautious child anyway.  I guess I'll never know that.  But knowing what we do know, it's up to us to parent our child according to his personality.  Of course, I don't want to use his cautious nature as an excuse.  I want to push him, to expand his horizons and to work past his fears.  But at the same time, I want to love him through his fear, never letting him feel like he has to "get over it".  I want him to know that being with us is his safe place, and that we'll always be here to love him and support him.  But I want him to know that because he has that safe place, that he is free to go out and try things.  To experience life to its fullest no matter what. 

So my first challenge in this giant goal is to get him comfortable around dogs.  I guess I need to start making play dates with people who have dogs!  Any takers? 

Monday, March 1, 2010

The good ol' days....

Saturday night I visited highschool.  Of course I mean figuratively, not literally. 

I hated highschool.  There are a lot of people out there that would gladly go back and live their "glory days" over again.  Not me.  Too much pressure, too much judgement.  Of course, in the wisdom of my old age, I realize that a lot of the issues in highschool were because all of us were in the same boat -- unsure of who we were, and more than just a little bit insecure.  We all just handled it differently. 

It wasn't like I had no friends.  I was more the kind of person that had several friends, across several groups of people.  But I did have a core group I spent quite a bit of time with.  Interestingly enough, this group was mostly guys. 

Most of us went to the same university, and so instead of branching out and making university friends, we all tended to stick together.  However, we were kind of like a rolling ball of lint -- collecting people as we went.  Our "group" grew as people started into relationships etc. 

My twenties were horrendous.  Probably worse than highschool.  I was pretty messed up after our father abandoned us, and predictably had a string of bad relationships.  And then, I married one of those bad relationships.  I was in such a fog, I had a hard time figuring things out, and felt like I was constantly fighting for the real "me" to get out.  But that's the thing of being surrounded by highschool friends -- they know you a certain way.  To be fair, they were all trying to figure themselves out too.  But instead of providing a supportive environment for each other to grow, learn and change, we ended up creating a very toxic environment for each other. 

I always felt like I was the outsider -- like I was right on the cusp of being in the "cool group", but couldn't quite get in.  I spent a lot of time feeling hurt.  It was like I had access, but not the password to get all the way in (if that makes sense).  I continued to spend more time with the guys because I just couldn't figure out how to be "in" with the girls.  And yet I so desperately wanted the validation the girls could provide.  If you even took one psychology course in university, it's pretty easy to figure out why I was the way I was back then.  But when you're 25 no one is using their emotional intelligence.  They just want you to be something you're not, and the more you try, the more you disappoint them and the more you end up hating yourself.  Really, is it any wonder why I would never go back? 

A few years ago, I became public enemy number one to this group of people.  I made some pretty bad choices and handled a few key situations very poorly.  I know now that I have a lot to apologize for.  However, no situation is ever a one way street and I know I'm owed some apologies too.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not sorry for how things have turned out.  When push comes to shove, you always find out who your true friends are, and these people revealed themselves to be less than "true" friends.  And frankly, I'm a much better version of myself now -- all because I spent some much-needed time healing my soul. 

So Saturday night I made the choice to go to a stag and doe for one of my old guy friends who is getting married in April.  I made the choice, knowing that all my old friends would be there, including my ex-husband.  I think part of me hoped that by now, all our old past hurts would be water under the bridge.  I don't expect to be friends with them again, nor do I really want to be, but you can't spend 15 years with people and not miss them a little bit.  The main reason I went, though, was to support a friend I cared a great deal for as he begins his new marriage.  I'm glad I went.  As I expected, the guys were all wonderful -- happy to see me and welcomed me with open arms (literally).  The girls, of course, ignored me.  Only one said hello -- I might as well have been dead to the rest of them.  I'm so grateful that I had gone with one of my really good friends.  I put her in the awkward position of having to choose between me and the rest of the group (she is the only one who has mastered being friends with everyone to the detriment of no one!), but I'm glad she was standing by me.  I may be closing in on thirty five, but for the 2 hours I was there, it was like I was 17 again.  Not part of the "cool group", not really offending anyone with my presence, yet made to feel like I had no right to be there. 

I know that this isn't normal behaviour.  Nothing with this group of people is normal.  I don't understand how they can so patently ignore that time is marching on, with or without them.  We're all getting older, we all have children.  Is this really the behaviour you want to model for your kids?  It certainly isn't how I want to raise my kids.  I know my children are going to make mistakes.  In fact, I hope they do.  Making mistakes is how you learn.  I've done the best learning, the best growing, from these so called "mistakes".  I've also made some of the deepest, most rewarding relationships out of taking a different path.  Sure, my heart hurts to think that some day my children may not be the "cool" kids, and they may learn how it feels to stand out the outside.  But then there is a part of me that wants to encourage that.  I want to teach them that true validation comes from the inside, not from other people.  And if they find themselves on the "inside", I hope that I've taught them well enough to include everyone, no matter what.  I'm not saying they have to be friends with everyone.  We all know that's impossible.  But you can include people, be nice to people, say hello to people...some days, that hello might be the only thing that gets someone through the day. 

So, hello.