Peace (nursing nest part II)

It is Friday, and my experiment with changing my thought process and spending time in my "nest" has worked very well so far. I find that since I have started allowing my little girl to nap on my lap I have found that I am forced to relax, I have time to enjoy the book I'm reading (which, by the way is by Norma Jean Bumgarner not Bumgarter) and I actually slept at least once. The house has not fallen apart, and is, in fact, in pretty good shape! I save those sorts of tasks for later in the day, when I have time to myself and can get things done rapidement. Hubby is also sharing the cooking with me, which is more of a break than I realized it would be. Anyhow, I really feel less stressed/angry/frustrated/pissy than I did earlier in the week, and I think my changes have everything to do with it. I am allowing myself to have fun with my little girl, and that can only be good for both of us. I have always had fun with her, but now I don't feel bad about not getting other things done. I am also asking for hubby's help a little bit more, and little things make a big difference in my mental heath. For example, I asked him to bring the laundry downstairs two nights ago. It seems like a little thing, but it is very difficult for me to carry baby and laundry down the stairs, and instead of feeling frustrated while waiting for the opportunity to go get it sans baby, I asked for assistance. Instant decrease in blood pressure and increase in positive attitute. The hardest part of any change of plan or behavior is sticking to the new way of doing things. I shall try, oh yes, I shall try. But letting go of things has been easier than I realized. It's ok to say that I just can't get to something - no one questions how time consuming childcare is. And I'm ok with not getting to things as long as I don't plan to get to something only to find I can't. If I don't plan to get to it in the first place, I don't have the disappointment later. Simple as that. As a matter of fact, it makes anything that does get accomplished in addition to routine childcare a big fat bonus. And that puts a completely new spin on the whole thing. Today, I mailed a package! WhooHoo! I also, get this, bought stamps! Yowza. And I bought a Christmas gift for someone. And I got some frames for the walls. And I made a loaf of bread. And I blogged. :)

Nursing Nest

If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. That is my lesson this week. I continue to find that I try to embark in projects and tasks which are simply impossible while trying to raise a child - at least one in the toddler stage. Why do I keep trying? I really don't know. But I find that my constant attempts to do so cause me much frustration, anger and sadness. What I have concluded is that I need to stop trying. The fact is, my priority is doing my best to be a good parent to my daughter, and that means that everything else goes lower down the priority pole. I have found that in order to reduce my negative emotions, I need to change my mental processes. I mean really change them. Instead of trying to put my daughter down when she falls asleep on my lap, only to find that most times she'll wake up and cry, I have to understand that she has a need to remain on my lap and keep her there. And instead of being pissed that I can't then chip something off of the endless list of things to do while she sleeps, decide that these things must be chipped at earlier or later, but not then. Or, pile some things near by, so that I can work on them when she is sleeping. Ah. Thus the nursing nest. My La Leche League chapter members (great ladies) have mentioned the nursing nest, and I sort of thought I had one. Or at least one. I really didn't. A nursing nest is a place to sit and nurse your baby while caring for yourself. So it should have all of the things that the two of you require to be happy in that spot. For her, me, pillows and quiet. For me, a good book or magazine, some bills and my checkbook, some nibbles, some tea...Considering I'm just starting to put it together, I don't know what all it needs just yet. Today, while my warm cozy daughter snoozed and nursed (off and on) for almost three hours, I contented myself by reading Mothering Your Nursing Toddler, by Norma Jean Bumgarter. I managed to feel quite content for that time period, and did not stress about other things. (That came later) So I'm working on it. And I'm realizing that the time I get with her like this, this incredible intimacy I have with this little girl, is fleeting, and if I spend my time thinking about what I could be doing, I'll miss the greatest opportunity I've been given yet. And really...would I rather be doing anything else?

Mama Brain

Eye riley ken spelle. Reelie.

Bilingual

Before having children, one inevitably looks at the children of other people they way they would at animals in the zoo. With wonder. What an interesting and completely incomprehensible creature. And we like it like that. They are lovely to look at as long as you don't have to feed, clean, entertain or communicate with it. We marvel at its tricks. We wonder, briefly, why it behaves in certain ways, and what it means when it does this or that. We sometimes decide what type of parent/zoo keeper we might be, and often think critically of those we are observing. Then we wake up. We have children of our own, and over time, we understand. A lot. We get why the parents/zookeepers look the way they do. We get why some seem exasperated/exhausted/mis-matched/harried. But we also have another dawning understanding. We have come to speak the language. Suddenly these little ones are not just saying "Goo-goo" and throwing everything on the floor. They are speaking! That little guy over there is very clearly saying that he'd like some water please, and that it is so interesting to him that when he holds something over the edge of his carriage and opens his fingers, a few seconds later it makes a noise, and it's way down below! It's as if we've been initiated into the fraternal order of parents, and with membership comes understanding of a secret language. How is it that so many people speak this language, yet it never made sense before? And automatically you see that you cannot make non-members understand. Now you're on the other side of the fence. You have to tolerate people approaching your child and stating out loud for all to hear that he/she thinks you child is "doing something", "making poopies", "busy", "working on something", "insert any stupid way of saying 'going to the bathroom'", because he/she made some sort of sound of effort. What these people (non-members) don't seem to understand is that when you are beneath the age of one and do not yet walk/crawl/stand/basically move under your own control too well, everything you do is likely to require some form of noise of effort. If my daughter was "working on something" every time she made such a sound, she'd have been in the hospital long ago. Oh, and for the record, only one person out of many was ever right on this point. Anyhow, my point is that I have come to understand the language of baby, and am thrilled to be as close to fluent as an adult can be. While I get excited when she understands an English word I've used, I become equally as excited when she says something in baby, and I'm able to understand what she means. And it's just plain eerie when we're around other children and I hear someone else's child say something in baby and have it sound so very like my daughter! So next time you here a child say "Goo" or "Squeal!" or "Ca" or similar, be certain that it's not the child who cannot communicate with you, it is you who cannot communicate with the child.

My Feat's Too Big

I am having a clothing crisis for my daughter. Oh, she has plenty of clothing. But putting together an outfit that coordinates, is comfortable, is weather appropriate, and fits over her cloth diapered bottom is quite a challenge. Yes, she's 13 months old, and growing like a weed. One day her pink comfy pants are puddling at her feet, the next they are floods. When we go visiting, we bring a collection of one-piece suits, onesies, pants, long-sleeved tops, short-sleeved tops, socks, stockings, skirts, etc. So why is it I have such trouble getting an outfit together? Today she is sporting a long sleeve shirt which keeps unbuttoning itself, a pair of stocking that give her perpetual elephant ankles, and a skort. It is really too warm for long sleeves, but I don't have a coordinating short-sleeve top (except for the 3-6 month top that somehow still travels with us). I went clothes shopping for her two days ago and came out with what I thought was a great bunch of mix-and-match items. I bought blue jeans (2 for 1) and couldn't wait to get them on her. The 12-month pair fit her legs perfectly, but prohibited movement in the hip region. (??) The 18-month pair allowed for hip movement, but traveled past her feet by about 3 inches. What a waste. Then there are her shoes. She ownes two pairs of soft-souled shoes. One pair fits snugly, allowing no room for socks. The other has room for three pairs of socks. Sighs. Oh, and dresses don't work at the moment, because she crawls. Ever try to crawl in a dress? Back to the store...