Sunday, September 26, 2010

Mommy heartbreak

I thought I had a few years before I had to deal with this.

I was prepared for some sadness that comes with parenthood.  The kind of sadness that comes when your baby turns one and you realize they aren't a baby anymore, or when they take a tumble and hurt themselves and you realize it was probably your fault they fell over that laundry basket in the first place....that kind of thing.  I figured the bigger stuff was a few years off.  The leaving home/breaking up with a boyfriend or girlfriend/saying "I hate you mom" for the first time...THAT bigger stuff.

In this month's Today's Parent magazine, there was an article that talks about how to deal with your child when they've been rejected for the first time.  Most of the children they were writing about were in the 8-9 age range.  Kids that were joining a sports team for the first time, or entering the challenging social pool at school and finding out they may not have as many friends as the other kids.  While reading, I was relieved to think that I had a few years before I had to figure out how I was going to cope with this.  I think watching your child be rejected, while an important part of their growth and development, must be an awful experience for any parent. 

My biggest fear in life is being a Helicopter Parent.  I believe my job is to teach my children to be confident and self aware so I can release them into the big bad world to find their way.  Obviously, along the way there will be lessons to teach them independence etc.  In these early years, I'm trying to figure out my children's personalities in order to determine which "lessons" will serve them best.  My oldest child is proving to be a challenge. 

My first born is very social and outgoing.  He plays well with others and likes to be outside.  Having said that, he is also timid in new situations that don't involve me or daddy and can be overly cautious.  He doesn't necessarily like trying new things, but once he has done something a few times, he loves it and will want to keep going.  He's never backed away from anything, but in a new situation it often takes mommy being RIGHT THERE to keep him involved.  This can be frustrating and endearing all at the same time.  As he gets older and is edging ever closer to going to school, I want to ensure that he has the confidence to want to try things without me, and the independence to know he can. 

We have a pool and it is important to both my husband and I that all of our children are a) comfortable around water and b) want to be in the water.  So far, we have given birth to two little fish.  This past summer, both boys wanted to be in the water all the time.  Because of this, and because we are going to have three kids next summer, I decided to enroll the oldest in lessons this fall.  I wanted to encourage him to continue to learn, but I was also hopeful that lessons would teach him a bit more independence.  I was apprehensive when registering him as it became clear the only level he could be accepted in because of his age was a class with no parent participation.  I wasn't sure how it would go, but decided to try it after being reassured we could drop out if it didn't seem like he was ready.  The level was for ages 3-5, which is where part of my concern lay.  There is a big difference between a three year old and a five year old -- especially when the three year old in question is my smaller-than-normal child. 

The first class was okay, mostly because I was in the water too.  Class two there was a different teacher, and she didn't let my son's tears and fear bother her, which was good, but it was still stressful to watch.  I was pretty sure I wanted to pull him out of these lessons as it was clear he just wasn't ready for what they were teaching to his four and five year old peers.  But, I decided to give it one more week because I also don't want to teach my children that it is okay to quit.  BIG MISTAKE.  It was the same teacher as week one.  My poor child was scared to go into the water, but I convinced him that it was okay to sit on the edge with the other kids and at least watch what was going on -- which he did.  He continued to sit on the edge for twenty minutes (this is a thirty minute class) without being acknowledged or helped into the water.  I don't think it phased him as I'm sure he didn't want to go into the water, but I was sitting back watching my child be ignored, and I'm pretty sure that to date, this is the most difficult thing I've ever encountered.  He sat there so quietly, just watching the other kids, and it nearly broke my heart.  Sure, I'm pregnant and hormonal, but I spent the entire time fighting tears as I watched the teacher help every other child and continually pass mine over.  When the teacher finally got out of the water, I asked him why he was ignoring my son, and he said he thought he was just "some kid watching the class" -- he had FORGOTTEN him!  There are seven kids per class -- I would think that they'd be pretty easy to remember, especially the one who is the smallest and the scardest!  After I finally convinced this teenage teacher that I wasn't crazy and my son was in his class, my poor boy finally got in the water....at 5:29pm, 1 minute before the class was due to end.  I was livid and more convinced that the timing was wrong for my little "lesson in independence".  We made it to the changeroom where I burst into tears because my heart was hurting from the pain I had inflicted on my son.  I couldn't believe that such a small act of rejection had made me so upset.  I'm never going to survive their childhood at this rate. 

As my son hugged me and asked repeatedly "you okay mommy?", I realized that my son is incredibly sensitive and empathetic already.  Maybe those are much more important qualities for a three year old anyway.  One day he'll be independent and will want to do things on his own, without me.  But empathy is a much harder thing to teach, and he seems to have it down pat.  So what if he wants to be with me?  Obviously I've done something right. 

Monday, September 20, 2010

Man plans, God laughs

I'm a planner.  I can't help it.  I've been this way as long as I can remember, and it isn't likely to change.

I've taken some flack for this in my life.  The non-planners in my life tend to appreciate this quality about me.  Other planners tend to either appreciate it, or fight with me about it.  The thing about planners is we tend to be "type A" personalities.  When you're friends (or colleagues) with other A types, conflict can happen. 

There is comfort in plans.  Knowing what is going to happen, and when, can bring stability.  My childhood and teenage years were rather unstable, so I think my insatiable need to have my life planned out came from that.  When I was young and single, every minute of my spare time was planned out.  Which seems crazy looking back on it -- I had relatively no down time, and no time to be spontaneous.  But, I liked it that way.  It was comforting to know that I always had something to do, and always had someone to do it with. 

As I've gotten older, I still like to plan things.  However, I now appreciate the beauty of a "plan free" weekend, and the ability to make plans on the fly.  So while every minute of my life isn't scheduled, there is still an underlying plan to everything I do.

Fortunately, I married a planner.  We work well as a team.  Now our plans include where we want to be in the coming months, what our life looks like in 5 years, and what we want our retirement to look like.  We plan for our children's futures as well as our own.  We're very responsible (ha ha). 

Having children was part of our plan.  We even planned out how many we would have and when they would come. 

Until this summer.  This summer, I learned a valuable lesson.  My life lesson is that you can't put too much faith in the plans that you make, because ultimately it's not you in control.  And so, despite our plans to wait a year before adding to our family, we found out we were expecting our third child. 

The news threw me for a loop.  Our other two children (and the baby we miscarried in between) were very planned.  This third baby was planned for, just not yet.  Having my second and third so close together in age seemed daunting at first (they'll be 18 months apart).  We had just gotten the second baby to start sleeping well.  This last year has been exhausting, and I questioned whether I could do it all over again so quickly.  I wanted to enjoy my children a little bit before having another baby around, and all that comes with that (meaning, my dreadful sickness in pregnancy).  I wanted to enjoy my husband for a little while before we added to the craziness of our house.  I wanted to enjoy my house -- do some more renos and prepare properly for three children. 

Once the news sunk in, I was thrilled -- obviously.  We wanted three children.  I'm actually looking forward to having them close in age. I think this is going to be a wonderful thing as they grow.

No matter what, I recognize that we are very blessed.  Blessed that we can have children.  Blessed that I have a choice.  Blessed that we have a good support system around us so that we will have help in the early days (and beyond).  And blessed that we're living the life we truly want.  Whether or not I plan every detail doesn't really matter.  What matters is that I am lucky to be living my dream.  How many women can truly say that?    

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

My baby is one

Just over two weeks ago, my baby turned one.  I can hardly believe it...it seems like just yesterday I was dealing with the craziness of newborn sleep, nonstop feedings and sleep deprivation. 

I have a hard time with the first birthday for some reason.  I thought the first one was bad.  But this past year has literally flown by.  Even when I was in the throes of no sleep (and I don't mean the newborn days either) and thought it would never end, I look back on it and can hardly remember much of what happened.  And all of a sudden I am the mom to a toddler and a preschooler and am not sure how that happened. 

My children are so beautiful, it hurts my heart.  My 3 year old is funny.  He knows how to make you laugh, and does things on purpose to get a laugh.  A natural charmer.  He's incredibly smart, and very observent -- you can't get anything past him.  My baby is starting to prove that he's a bit of a charmer as well.  Big blue eyes that get whatever they want.  An easy smile, a quick laugh, big hugs and kisses for anyone who wants them....and it appears he's going to be a chatterbox like his big brother. 

I've been home with them for a year now.  Officially, my maternity leave ended a month ago, so being technical, I've been stay at home mom for a month.  But I never felt like my maternity leave was a "leave"...it felt like I was starting my new life.  I feel so blessed that we have a choice.  A choice to have a parent at home with our children as they grow.  I feel lucky that the parent is me. 

So what I have I learned this year?  I've learned that extreme sleep deprivation does make you crazy.  I've also learned that when you take a minute, there really is a well of patience just waiting to be tapped.  I've learned that being present in the moment is more important than being on time.  I've learned that everything can be fixed by a mommy cuddle/kiss/hug, even if mommy was the cause of the problem in the first place.  I've learned that child hunger and fatigue is the biggest cause of child meltdown, and when said child is in the throes of said meltdown, the only person who can honestly be blamed is me.  Thus, I've learned that being organized and ensuring snacks and food are on hand at all times is important.  I've learned that "mommy instinct" is real, and mine is strong.  I truly am the best judge if something is "wrong" with my kids, and I'm most definitely their best advocate.  I've learned that my love is infinite, and it grows and changes every day.  And just when I think I love my family the most I possibly can, tomorrow comes and I learn there is more to love. 

And, I learn there is more to learn. 

So here's to another year of tomorrows.  May I be open to the life lessons my children teach me -- open to change and growth, and open to being present in the moment.