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.

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.