How about you?
You see, I thought that since I'd already had one kid that I knew what to expect the next go-around (even though everyone says that they are all different). I wasn't just wrong, I wasn't even close to being in the same book as right.
By this point Jordyn was sleeping through the night (8 weeks old), but Emery is giving us a run for our money! She still has to eat in the middle of the night, which in of itself isn't so bad. It's all the doctors' appointments plus my desperate attempt to get some sort of routine down. Emery has a mild heart murmur that we're hoping says mild (we'll find out in July), and she is having a rough time gaining weight. So just about every week we're in the doctor's office yet again trying to figure out how to get her to eat. In the heart murmur info the cardiologist gave us it said that if the murmur is moderate to severe that it can make it hard for the child to gain weight. So now I worry about whether or not the murmur is getting worse OR whether or not she's just going to be petite like Jordyn (Gee, thanks Cory for those scrawny genes). It doesn't help that Emery spits up so much so I'm starting to wonder if she's trying out as the understudy for Old Faithful.
Worrying. That's what parenthood is all about. Constant worrying. Just when you think that you couldn't possibly worry anymore the worry wagon swings by to hand out new assignments. I figure that it's good though. Wait. Don't make that face just yet, let me explain. I figure that if we get this much practice caring and worrying about another person that we learn to look outside ourselves which is generally a very good thing. What I mean by this is that it's so easy getting caught up on ourselves, and that doesn't usually end up well for anyone. All it does is give us way too much time to beat ourselves up or convince ourselves we're way cooler than we actually are. So, thanks parenthood for attempting to teach me how to actually be a cooler version of myself. Now let's just hope that I don't ruin two girls in the process:)
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Oh The Potty
Why yes it is after midnight and everyone in my house (newborn included) is asleep except me. Awesome. I'm telling you that between pregnancy and this new baby I may never sleep on a "normal" schedule again.
In other news, we're potty training. Yipee....NOT. Least fun part about parenting? Potty training! I hate it. No, really I do. It's frustrating and looooooong. Geesh. Why don't the kiddos come out potty trained? I mean they do some pretty incredible things in utero like growing all their bones and organs, the least that they could do was potty train themselves while they are baking in there. Here are a few things I've learned while potty training:
1. Candy is a good motivator. Downside? After a while you start to feel a little bad offering your 2-year-old candy before they've had breakfast, or at least I do. Someone once said something very wise to me, she said, "I was a much better mom before I had kids" Amen to that. I did think ahead as far as going to the potty in public. I didn't bring any candy with us so that she would get used to going to the potty without a reward every time.
2. Once you think they have it down brace yourself because then they will proceed to poop in their panties over and over and over again. The first week of potty training was pie, now I tell you that if I have to clean poop out of one more pair of panties I'm going to cry.
3. You'll never say "Bathroom," or "Restroom," or "Powder Room" again. Instead you'll call it the potty evermore. Don't worry I'm sure it'll become cool one day to say words like "pee pee" and "bye byes" at least I'm hoping because I no longer know how to speak to another adult. Instead we go barreling through the store saying, "Hold on we've got to find a potty to go pee pee!"
4. Picking out panties is not as cool as you think it would be. I don't know about other kids, but Jordyn was not even a little excited about picking out her "big girl panties". In fact she could care less. She was much more sentimental about losing her diapers and wipes than she was about moving up in the world of underwear. Apparently no amount of talking up the potty and big girl undies was going to make up for the hesitation to change.
5. Potty books are ridiculous! Oh my goodness who publishes some of these books? I'm not saying that they are all bad. In fact, I'm sure that there are some good ones. However, the ones we got were weird! And awkward. As if teaching someone how to go to the bathroom isn't awkward enough they have weird books to help you. Not that Jordyn has ever once cared what was inside a book. As long as it's a book it's her favorite book of all times. That kid sure loves to read!
In other news, we're potty training. Yipee....NOT. Least fun part about parenting? Potty training! I hate it. No, really I do. It's frustrating and looooooong. Geesh. Why don't the kiddos come out potty trained? I mean they do some pretty incredible things in utero like growing all their bones and organs, the least that they could do was potty train themselves while they are baking in there. Here are a few things I've learned while potty training:
1. Candy is a good motivator. Downside? After a while you start to feel a little bad offering your 2-year-old candy before they've had breakfast, or at least I do. Someone once said something very wise to me, she said, "I was a much better mom before I had kids" Amen to that. I did think ahead as far as going to the potty in public. I didn't bring any candy with us so that she would get used to going to the potty without a reward every time.
2. Once you think they have it down brace yourself because then they will proceed to poop in their panties over and over and over again. The first week of potty training was pie, now I tell you that if I have to clean poop out of one more pair of panties I'm going to cry.
3. You'll never say "Bathroom," or "Restroom," or "Powder Room" again. Instead you'll call it the potty evermore. Don't worry I'm sure it'll become cool one day to say words like "pee pee" and "bye byes" at least I'm hoping because I no longer know how to speak to another adult. Instead we go barreling through the store saying, "Hold on we've got to find a potty to go pee pee!"
4. Picking out panties is not as cool as you think it would be. I don't know about other kids, but Jordyn was not even a little excited about picking out her "big girl panties". In fact she could care less. She was much more sentimental about losing her diapers and wipes than she was about moving up in the world of underwear. Apparently no amount of talking up the potty and big girl undies was going to make up for the hesitation to change.
5. Potty books are ridiculous! Oh my goodness who publishes some of these books? I'm not saying that they are all bad. In fact, I'm sure that there are some good ones. However, the ones we got were weird! And awkward. As if teaching someone how to go to the bathroom isn't awkward enough they have weird books to help you. Not that Jordyn has ever once cared what was inside a book. As long as it's a book it's her favorite book of all times. That kid sure loves to read!
Friday, April 26, 2013
Crying babies are always hungry
Why is it that crying babies are always hungry?
You know, you're walking around in the grocery store one kiddo is being perfect and the other one is fussy and some nice, old lady walks up to you, smiles and says, "Oh, I think she's hungry! What you hear is, "clearly you don't know how to feed your children, otherwise they wouldn't be crying in the store, and seeing as I'm a perfect stranger and the ultimate source of information on all things child I suggest you feed your crying baby."
Now, to the credit of the unsuspecting lady who's trying to be helpful thank you for trying to be helpful. Really, it's very nice of you to be so thoughtful. (Brace yourself here comes the but) But, sometimes babies just cry. It's true. I wouldn't lie to you.
When we were getting close to having our second daughter, Emery, I told Jordyn that babies don't have any words like she did, so the only way they can tell us if they are tired or hungry or need something is by crying (the talk continued to include how Jordyn didn't need to start crying at us because she had words, and that one day Emery would too). Sometimes I feel like offering this talk to those nice ladies at the grocery store that insists my baby is hungry.
I don't know what it is about this situation that causes me to smile on the outside and turn into a territorial, raging bear on the inside (claws, grunts and slobber included). It could be the frequency of these helpful advice givers. Who knows?
Both of our girls are small. Like in the 2nd percentile small. This means that I get double feeding advice anytime we're out in public. In St. Louis people always assume it's because I don't give them milk. I'll be walking around the store and some lady (Why is it always the ladies? Not once have I had a man walk up to me and offer any advice) will waddle over to my shopping cart and say, "My, she's small. You should give her some milk!" Again I generally smile and say something like, "She's just petite" or "Thanks." What I'm thinking is, "Gee, why haven't I thought of that? Grumble, grumble."
I should say, probably should have said sooner, that it's not that I don't want advice. Goodness knows I've consulted enough parenting books I could probably have a degree in child development. It's just that I don't want advice from a stranger--especially when said stranger's toddler is halfway through a family size bag of Cheetos and is drinking a 2 liter of off-brand soda. Somehow the combination makes the delivery of their milk-drinking advice so much more offensive.
I should grapple for some of the responsibility of these situations here. I know that I can be a little (a lot) bit sensitive to parenting advice. I take my job as a full-time mother very seriously. Therefore, any critiques tossed my way set off my oh-crap-I'm-messing-my-children-up-better-read-another-parenting-book-now alarms. So in this sense I probably need to tone it down.
But please, for the love, STOP offering strangers advice on anything unless requested. Something about pregnancy/parenting makes you public property. I don't know how I survived the first 23 years of my life with all these do-gooders, but I kind of like the learn-as-you-go approach to life. Here's my challenge to the advice-givers: why don't you try being helpful in another way. For example, taking the cart back is always super stressful. We live in a really big city with lots of crime so I'm always worried that when I walk 15 feet away from my car some guy is going to hop in my car and take off with my babies (it happens often around here, and then they just drop the kids off in some neighborhood on the side of the road). Why don't you offer to return my cart or hold open the door. Then I would sing you praises instead of wanting to clobber you with my spaghetti squash.
You know, you're walking around in the grocery store one kiddo is being perfect and the other one is fussy and some nice, old lady walks up to you, smiles and says, "Oh, I think she's hungry! What you hear is, "clearly you don't know how to feed your children, otherwise they wouldn't be crying in the store, and seeing as I'm a perfect stranger and the ultimate source of information on all things child I suggest you feed your crying baby."
Now, to the credit of the unsuspecting lady who's trying to be helpful thank you for trying to be helpful. Really, it's very nice of you to be so thoughtful. (Brace yourself here comes the but) But, sometimes babies just cry. It's true. I wouldn't lie to you.
When we were getting close to having our second daughter, Emery, I told Jordyn that babies don't have any words like she did, so the only way they can tell us if they are tired or hungry or need something is by crying (the talk continued to include how Jordyn didn't need to start crying at us because she had words, and that one day Emery would too). Sometimes I feel like offering this talk to those nice ladies at the grocery store that insists my baby is hungry.
I don't know what it is about this situation that causes me to smile on the outside and turn into a territorial, raging bear on the inside (claws, grunts and slobber included). It could be the frequency of these helpful advice givers. Who knows?
Both of our girls are small. Like in the 2nd percentile small. This means that I get double feeding advice anytime we're out in public. In St. Louis people always assume it's because I don't give them milk. I'll be walking around the store and some lady (Why is it always the ladies? Not once have I had a man walk up to me and offer any advice) will waddle over to my shopping cart and say, "My, she's small. You should give her some milk!" Again I generally smile and say something like, "She's just petite" or "Thanks." What I'm thinking is, "Gee, why haven't I thought of that? Grumble, grumble."
I should say, probably should have said sooner, that it's not that I don't want advice. Goodness knows I've consulted enough parenting books I could probably have a degree in child development. It's just that I don't want advice from a stranger--especially when said stranger's toddler is halfway through a family size bag of Cheetos and is drinking a 2 liter of off-brand soda. Somehow the combination makes the delivery of their milk-drinking advice so much more offensive.
I should grapple for some of the responsibility of these situations here. I know that I can be a little (a lot) bit sensitive to parenting advice. I take my job as a full-time mother very seriously. Therefore, any critiques tossed my way set off my oh-crap-I'm-messing-my-children-up-better-read-another-parenting-book-now alarms. So in this sense I probably need to tone it down.
But please, for the love, STOP offering strangers advice on anything unless requested. Something about pregnancy/parenting makes you public property. I don't know how I survived the first 23 years of my life with all these do-gooders, but I kind of like the learn-as-you-go approach to life. Here's my challenge to the advice-givers: why don't you try being helpful in another way. For example, taking the cart back is always super stressful. We live in a really big city with lots of crime so I'm always worried that when I walk 15 feet away from my car some guy is going to hop in my car and take off with my babies (it happens often around here, and then they just drop the kids off in some neighborhood on the side of the road). Why don't you offer to return my cart or hold open the door. Then I would sing you praises instead of wanting to clobber you with my spaghetti squash.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Bits and pieces: An Introduction
I never seem to run out of lessons to learn when it comes to being a full time mommy. Since this is what I learn about all day long, I thought I might as well put my M.F.A. to use and write about motherhood. So here goes!
My sweet 2-year-old, Jordyn, gives me a lesson daily in Dr. Jekyll vs. Mr Hyde.
Me: Jordyn, wanna read a book?
Jordyn: okay!
Me: Hey Jordyn let's pick up your toys.
Jordyn: okay!
Me: Sweet Jordyn let's go make some dinner.
Jordyn: okay!
Me: Jordyn it's time for a nap.
Jordyn: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! (Followed by enough crying and angry screams to make my neighbors think I beat my children)
How is it that I as a 26-year-old woman find that I'm awful at reading people when my 2-year-old not only has discovered all of my buttons and how to push them, but also how to be just sweet enough that I feel bad for putting her in time out?
Example: Jordyn likes to snack on Cheerios (which are currently outlawed in our house for the following reason) however, she discovered a few months ago that if she waits until I'm looking at her then dumps them all over the floor that mommy gets really irritated. In all my wise logic of being consistent with timeouts I figured that I would put her in timeout and she would promptly pick them up and we'd be done. WRONG. What happens is that I put her in timeout then she'll pick up a few and put them back in the bowl then dump them out again resulting in another timeout. After 45 minutes of timeout and her picking them up eating a couple then dumping them out again finally all of the Cheerios are gone and I'm so grumpy that when my husband, Cory, comes home I'm super fun to hang out with, NOT.
See there are things that people don't tell you about being a parent, that I'm sure if more people knew they'd be grateful to know they aren't going crazy. Like how emotional parenting is. One second I love everything about my children and then next second (usually following a tantrum or witnessing someone else's parenting) I'm convinced my children have the worst possible parent in the universe. Seem a little extreme? Yep, parenting is like that.
Then there are those who like to dump all the bad parts of parenting on you.:
Me: So Jordyn's been a little sick recently and she's not sleeping well.
Person: Well, mine is 28 and still isn't sleeping through the night AND still sleeps in my bed AND is still in diapers AND still won't eat their vegetables AND....
Me: oh (looks at floor and wonders how to back track out of this conversation).
Really? All I wanted was some acknowledgement that I'm not the only person in the world trying to raise kids who are functional, productive people. Perhaps it's my own fault for not stating what I really want. Maybe if I approach the situation saying "Hey fellow parent I want some reassurance down here in the trenches, so please don't try to trump my molehill because then I'll feel awkward and this will have been the least productive conversation I've had all day which is saying something because currently my best source of conversation is a 2-year-old."
Speaking of those trumping people... What is it with them? Look, parenting is hard enough without competing to see who has it worse. Goodness people, get a hobby. I suppose it doesn't matter where you find yourself, there are always those who want to be king of the hill. Let me tell you a secret, you can have king of the hill, I don't want it. Parenting is hard enough I don't really want to be trying to outdo the other parents out there. I want to run around with a big poster yelling "Keep up the good work! Don't quit!" In the marathon of parenting the sprinters need to tone it down, take a breath, and brace yourself for the long haul. But, if you really want to "beat" me to the top of the hill, go for it.
Okay, semi-rant over. As far as the future of this blog, I'm not promising regular posts or even that this relationship is going to work. I'm going to test drive it and see if this fits me as an outlet. If not, I'll find another way. So for the mean time, I'll share my lessons/adventures and hope to remember all the things that I love and hate about parenting.
My sweet 2-year-old, Jordyn, gives me a lesson daily in Dr. Jekyll vs. Mr Hyde.
Me: Jordyn, wanna read a book?
Jordyn: okay!
Me: Hey Jordyn let's pick up your toys.
Jordyn: okay!
Me: Sweet Jordyn let's go make some dinner.
Jordyn: okay!
Me: Jordyn it's time for a nap.
Jordyn: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! (Followed by enough crying and angry screams to make my neighbors think I beat my children)
How is it that I as a 26-year-old woman find that I'm awful at reading people when my 2-year-old not only has discovered all of my buttons and how to push them, but also how to be just sweet enough that I feel bad for putting her in time out?
Example: Jordyn likes to snack on Cheerios (which are currently outlawed in our house for the following reason) however, she discovered a few months ago that if she waits until I'm looking at her then dumps them all over the floor that mommy gets really irritated. In all my wise logic of being consistent with timeouts I figured that I would put her in timeout and she would promptly pick them up and we'd be done. WRONG. What happens is that I put her in timeout then she'll pick up a few and put them back in the bowl then dump them out again resulting in another timeout. After 45 minutes of timeout and her picking them up eating a couple then dumping them out again finally all of the Cheerios are gone and I'm so grumpy that when my husband, Cory, comes home I'm super fun to hang out with, NOT.
See there are things that people don't tell you about being a parent, that I'm sure if more people knew they'd be grateful to know they aren't going crazy. Like how emotional parenting is. One second I love everything about my children and then next second (usually following a tantrum or witnessing someone else's parenting) I'm convinced my children have the worst possible parent in the universe. Seem a little extreme? Yep, parenting is like that.
Then there are those who like to dump all the bad parts of parenting on you.:
Me: So Jordyn's been a little sick recently and she's not sleeping well.
Person: Well, mine is 28 and still isn't sleeping through the night AND still sleeps in my bed AND is still in diapers AND still won't eat their vegetables AND....
Me: oh (looks at floor and wonders how to back track out of this conversation).
Really? All I wanted was some acknowledgement that I'm not the only person in the world trying to raise kids who are functional, productive people. Perhaps it's my own fault for not stating what I really want. Maybe if I approach the situation saying "Hey fellow parent I want some reassurance down here in the trenches, so please don't try to trump my molehill because then I'll feel awkward and this will have been the least productive conversation I've had all day which is saying something because currently my best source of conversation is a 2-year-old."
Speaking of those trumping people... What is it with them? Look, parenting is hard enough without competing to see who has it worse. Goodness people, get a hobby. I suppose it doesn't matter where you find yourself, there are always those who want to be king of the hill. Let me tell you a secret, you can have king of the hill, I don't want it. Parenting is hard enough I don't really want to be trying to outdo the other parents out there. I want to run around with a big poster yelling "Keep up the good work! Don't quit!" In the marathon of parenting the sprinters need to tone it down, take a breath, and brace yourself for the long haul. But, if you really want to "beat" me to the top of the hill, go for it.
Okay, semi-rant over. As far as the future of this blog, I'm not promising regular posts or even that this relationship is going to work. I'm going to test drive it and see if this fits me as an outlet. If not, I'll find another way. So for the mean time, I'll share my lessons/adventures and hope to remember all the things that I love and hate about parenting.
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