“Being a mother is not enough. Even an oyster can be a mother.” Charlotte Perkins Gilman
When I heard that quote while listening to the novel Loving Frank, it made me reflect on what is enough for me. I never expected being a mother to be enough. I expected it to be one part of the person I am. I’m actually pretty surprised at how fulfilling it is however, how fun it is to see aspects of yourself and the person you love most reflected in another, how rewarding it is to be able to nurture and love, how it helps one to appreciate the world when able to see it with fresh eyes.
Being a mother is still not enough for me to make me feel entirely fulfilled. I definitely need other aspects to who I am. Motherhood is taking a larger chunk of my life than I intended, yet I’m happy rather than concerned about it. I don’t want to be one of the women who suddenly feel themselves empty after their children are grown and gone because they’ve devoted themselves to nothing but their children. But I do want to enjoy life in the moment. And since being with River brings me joy, I’ll bask in that while it lasts. There will always be time to accomplish other things. But his fingers will only be this tiny, his skin so soft, his eyes so trusting, for so long.
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Saturday, August 30, 2008
Jalapeno Burn
I had been wondering what to do with the jalapenos I’d picked at my farmshare. I love going to the green leafy plants and looking for the curvy, long and slender green or red growth that will spice up my food. I saw online that peppers can be sliced and seeded, then frozen. So I decided to do that before leaving town yesterday.
I did pause momentarily as I was working, wondering whether the peppers were going to affect me adversely. But I hadn’t heard I needed to do anything special, so I continued on.
A while after I finished, my hands started to tingle, and then certain areas (near my fingernail, my thumbs, my pinkies) began to burn. I did a quick google and read about people rolling around on the floor and going to the emergency room from intense pain. Milk seemed like the most commonly suggested remedy, so I bathed my hands in 2% organic milk. The cold, thick liquid felt good on my hands, but it seemed an unfortunate waste of the expensive milk.
The milk seemed to work until I took a shower. Then the burning began a new, with more intensity than before. I gave my hands another milk bath, and followed it by dripping some lemon juice over the burns, since I’d read lemon juice could also be helpful. No luck.
When we got out to the car and I typed an address into the GPS, it felt like the GPS device was on fire. Mark had wanted me to drive half of the five hours it would take to get to our hotel and I knew I couldn’t do it if it felt like the steering wheel was burning. So he stopped at a pharmacy and bought me some benadryl. That worked fast at relieving the burning sensation.
I learned my lesson – I need to buy some plastic gloves and put them on anytime I’m working with jalapenos.
I did pause momentarily as I was working, wondering whether the peppers were going to affect me adversely. But I hadn’t heard I needed to do anything special, so I continued on.
A while after I finished, my hands started to tingle, and then certain areas (near my fingernail, my thumbs, my pinkies) began to burn. I did a quick google and read about people rolling around on the floor and going to the emergency room from intense pain. Milk seemed like the most commonly suggested remedy, so I bathed my hands in 2% organic milk. The cold, thick liquid felt good on my hands, but it seemed an unfortunate waste of the expensive milk.
The milk seemed to work until I took a shower. Then the burning began a new, with more intensity than before. I gave my hands another milk bath, and followed it by dripping some lemon juice over the burns, since I’d read lemon juice could also be helpful. No luck.
When we got out to the car and I typed an address into the GPS, it felt like the GPS device was on fire. Mark had wanted me to drive half of the five hours it would take to get to our hotel and I knew I couldn’t do it if it felt like the steering wheel was burning. So he stopped at a pharmacy and bought me some benadryl. That worked fast at relieving the burning sensation.
I learned my lesson – I need to buy some plastic gloves and put them on anytime I’m working with jalapenos.
The Goo Monster
I suppose every parent must have days like this – days in which their child just seems like a manufacturer of goo. When I think about River today I see constant drool, tomato seeds and peels dripping down the chin, food caught in the neck, a shirt wet and stained, chunks of soggy bread on the carpet under his highchair, running snot, booger bubbles emerging from his nostrils, milk dripping down the side of his mouth. As a result, I also walked around with a shirt stained by tomatoes and breastmilk and felt like I was a walking advertisement for messes to come, especially when I walked into a winery.
Of course we love our child, no matter what he looks like or does. However, River distinctly lost some of his cuteness today and I wasn’t the only one who thought so.
“River, you’ve lost the chance to become the Gerber baby,” Mark told him while River cried, had barley soup and sweet potatoes dripping down his chin and snot running from his nose. “We can no longer sell you to Gerber.”
Of course we take some of the blame. Our traveling about prevented him from getting his 3-4 hour power nap that has been normal for him over the past few weeks. He slept a while during a hike, and I continued to walk farther than I’d planned in order to give him the chance to sleep longer.
While he was good for most of the day, the lack of a long nap made him struggle for some parts of the day, and look around dazed for others.
We had our most difficult lunch with him ever. I’m trying to use up the little jarred baby food we have during this trip since he’ll grow out of it soon. I offered him Earth’s Best organic sweet potatoes and chicken and was surprised when he refused it. He loves sweet potatoes and he likes chicken, so I didn’t know what the problem was, other than perhaps a lack of spices. He wanted the restaurant’s beef and barley soup (which probably had way too high levels of sodium), the cottage cheese, the wholegrain bread and the oranges. He cried and I realized that we are now going to have to leave higher tips in order to compensate for the mess and disruption. When we offered him the same sweet potatoes and chicken for dinner, he ate it.
We knew he wouldn’t make it through a dinner in a restaurant, so Mark dropped me off so I could put River down while he got us PA Dutch take-out. As soon as we returned to the quiet, familiar environment of the hotel room, River became his happy self again. He went potty, he played, he breastfed, he took a bottle and he went to sleep – a relief to us all. I was just tired of wetness, noise and goo.
Despite these problems, I have to give River credit. We were out and about all day and without a single poop in his pants. However, as soon as we got home and put him on the potty, out came a big poop. He never poops just before bedtime. Although I held him over adult toilets a couple of times during the day, we think he was hanging on until he was seated on his own, comfortable potty. We’re very proud of him for that. That would have been one more nasty substance to deal with that might have brought us over the edge.
Of course we love our child, no matter what he looks like or does. However, River distinctly lost some of his cuteness today and I wasn’t the only one who thought so.
“River, you’ve lost the chance to become the Gerber baby,” Mark told him while River cried, had barley soup and sweet potatoes dripping down his chin and snot running from his nose. “We can no longer sell you to Gerber.”
Of course we take some of the blame. Our traveling about prevented him from getting his 3-4 hour power nap that has been normal for him over the past few weeks. He slept a while during a hike, and I continued to walk farther than I’d planned in order to give him the chance to sleep longer.
While he was good for most of the day, the lack of a long nap made him struggle for some parts of the day, and look around dazed for others.
We had our most difficult lunch with him ever. I’m trying to use up the little jarred baby food we have during this trip since he’ll grow out of it soon. I offered him Earth’s Best organic sweet potatoes and chicken and was surprised when he refused it. He loves sweet potatoes and he likes chicken, so I didn’t know what the problem was, other than perhaps a lack of spices. He wanted the restaurant’s beef and barley soup (which probably had way too high levels of sodium), the cottage cheese, the wholegrain bread and the oranges. He cried and I realized that we are now going to have to leave higher tips in order to compensate for the mess and disruption. When we offered him the same sweet potatoes and chicken for dinner, he ate it.
We knew he wouldn’t make it through a dinner in a restaurant, so Mark dropped me off so I could put River down while he got us PA Dutch take-out. As soon as we returned to the quiet, familiar environment of the hotel room, River became his happy self again. He went potty, he played, he breastfed, he took a bottle and he went to sleep – a relief to us all. I was just tired of wetness, noise and goo.
Despite these problems, I have to give River credit. We were out and about all day and without a single poop in his pants. However, as soon as we got home and put him on the potty, out came a big poop. He never poops just before bedtime. Although I held him over adult toilets a couple of times during the day, we think he was hanging on until he was seated on his own, comfortable potty. We’re very proud of him for that. That would have been one more nasty substance to deal with that might have brought us over the edge.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Disgustingus Maximus
I’m sure most new parents expect they will have their share of gross moments. In our first 8.5 months, we’ve been pretty lucky. River has peed outside of a diaper only a handful of times and neither of us have been pooped on. There were several geyser-like spit ups, sudden fountains of white goo, but it’s been so long since that has happened regularly that I can almost forget what it was like to have my clothing wet with the thick liquid.
This morning we had our grossest experience ever and I was really lucky to get out of it. Usually I take care of River in the mornings, when he first gets up, and Mark takes him in the evening. This morning I was exhausted and didn’t feel well. I got up to pump at 6, then went back to bed. When I heard River around eight I asked Mark if he could get him and change his diaper before I fed him.
He wanted to put it off, asking whether there were toys in the crib for him to play with (no), saying we should give him some time.
“He probably has a poop in his pants,” I said, since I’d been seeing one lately first thing in the morning. “He needs someone to help him out.”
Mark finally went to get him and returned appalled.
“His diaper came off and there is poop everywhere,” he said. “This is going to take a while, including a bath.”
One half hour later he brought River to me for his feeding. He told me River was covered in feces from head to toe. It was on his shirt, on his face and his hands. It stained the crib, got on the bumper and clumped on the crib rails.
“I didn’t want you to see it or you might not have wanted to breastfeed him,” he said.
When I asked him if he thought River ate any of it, I crossed my fingers he’d say no.
“Yes, he probably did,” he said. His shirt was stained with it and he was sucking on his shirt.
That is so disgusting, yet I can’t do anything about it. If he ate his poop, there isn’t anything I can do now but to love him like always. Still, I wish there was something I could do to go back and change the circumstances.
It’s not clear whether the Velcro unfastened on the diaper or whether River pulled it off. Mark thinks River definitely played a role because he said the diaper was completely removed. During the summer, we’ve been putting him down just in a diaper. We’ll now be putting on pajamas or a sleepsack to make it harder to reach the diapers. If removing his diaper continues to be a problem, we might have to switch from the BumGeniuses, which have served us so well, to diapers that use snaps (Motherease or Fuzzi Bunz) to make removal a little more difficult.
This morning we had our grossest experience ever and I was really lucky to get out of it. Usually I take care of River in the mornings, when he first gets up, and Mark takes him in the evening. This morning I was exhausted and didn’t feel well. I got up to pump at 6, then went back to bed. When I heard River around eight I asked Mark if he could get him and change his diaper before I fed him.
He wanted to put it off, asking whether there were toys in the crib for him to play with (no), saying we should give him some time.
“He probably has a poop in his pants,” I said, since I’d been seeing one lately first thing in the morning. “He needs someone to help him out.”
Mark finally went to get him and returned appalled.
“His diaper came off and there is poop everywhere,” he said. “This is going to take a while, including a bath.”
One half hour later he brought River to me for his feeding. He told me River was covered in feces from head to toe. It was on his shirt, on his face and his hands. It stained the crib, got on the bumper and clumped on the crib rails.
“I didn’t want you to see it or you might not have wanted to breastfeed him,” he said.
When I asked him if he thought River ate any of it, I crossed my fingers he’d say no.
“Yes, he probably did,” he said. His shirt was stained with it and he was sucking on his shirt.
That is so disgusting, yet I can’t do anything about it. If he ate his poop, there isn’t anything I can do now but to love him like always. Still, I wish there was something I could do to go back and change the circumstances.
It’s not clear whether the Velcro unfastened on the diaper or whether River pulled it off. Mark thinks River definitely played a role because he said the diaper was completely removed. During the summer, we’ve been putting him down just in a diaper. We’ll now be putting on pajamas or a sleepsack to make it harder to reach the diapers. If removing his diaper continues to be a problem, we might have to switch from the BumGeniuses, which have served us so well, to diapers that use snaps (Motherease or Fuzzi Bunz) to make removal a little more difficult.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Good recipe
Yay! I finally made something that used my abundance of produce and turned out well. This borsht recipe is great. It uses in-season tomatoes (I substituted fresh for canned), onions, beets, pepper and carrots, has some meat (which I’ve been lacking lately in the attempt to use my veggies) and a great taste. I’ll be pureeing some of this for baby, who could also use the meat and will hopefully appreciate a different soup on the menu!
What Happened to the Little Smile Machine?
In the past week or so, River has lost his perpetual smile. He used to have very limited emotions – smiling, panting at approaching food and crying. Now he’s expanded his repertoire. He’s become more serious and seems to be trying to analyze how things work – such as staring at the fan going back and forth and back and forth. But what has concerned us is the negative nature of some of his emotions.
The first to appear was the huff, in which he purses his lips and hyperventilates through his nose. This is clearly a sign of frustration. He does it whenever he wants to express disapproval – of a food, an activity or not getting what he wants. This morning, for the first time, he rejected the breakfast choices with clear disdain, then crying – first the minestrone (which I could understand he’d be sick of), then yogurt. He accepted a piece of toasted wholegrain bread to gnaw on.
Mark hates the huff. “It’s as though he’s telling me I’m an inadequate parent,” he says. “We have to do something about this or we’re going to have a difficult, demanding child.”
I’m also concerned because I don’t know at what point to draw the line between meeting a child’s needs and making sure they learn that the entire world isn’t there to give them what they want. I feel like everyone gets angry and frustrated at times, babies probably more so because they aren’t able to communicate. His huffs do indicate what he wants/needs.
I had read that you can’t spoil a baby in the first few months. I had also read that one-on-one attention was good for babies during the first year. So we’ve basically been letting him run the show, have responded to his needs when they arise and have bathed him in individual attention since the day he was born. Luckily, he’s been pretty easy to please and undemanding, as long as he has a consistent supply of food.
Last night I spent a lot of time catching up on my What to Expect in the First Year. I’d left off somewhere around month six. It did say that babies are frustrated by not being able to communicate. It also said this is the time to teach a baby that other people have needs too. It gave advice on how to get a baby used to spending some time alone while you do other things.
I imagine that part of the crankiness is due to teething. River’s first tooth is on the way. It does seem that now might be a good time to bring someone else into the picture – to give him a chance to play with another child and to balance his needs with those of another child. We’re looking into the possibility of sharing our babysitter with a little girl of River’s age.
After a couple of months of feeling we pretty much had the hang of this, a new stage begins to challenge us afresh and send me back to the books. Now that I’m blogging, perhaps readers will also be able to offer advice.
The first to appear was the huff, in which he purses his lips and hyperventilates through his nose. This is clearly a sign of frustration. He does it whenever he wants to express disapproval – of a food, an activity or not getting what he wants. This morning, for the first time, he rejected the breakfast choices with clear disdain, then crying – first the minestrone (which I could understand he’d be sick of), then yogurt. He accepted a piece of toasted wholegrain bread to gnaw on.
Mark hates the huff. “It’s as though he’s telling me I’m an inadequate parent,” he says. “We have to do something about this or we’re going to have a difficult, demanding child.”
I’m also concerned because I don’t know at what point to draw the line between meeting a child’s needs and making sure they learn that the entire world isn’t there to give them what they want. I feel like everyone gets angry and frustrated at times, babies probably more so because they aren’t able to communicate. His huffs do indicate what he wants/needs.
I had read that you can’t spoil a baby in the first few months. I had also read that one-on-one attention was good for babies during the first year. So we’ve basically been letting him run the show, have responded to his needs when they arise and have bathed him in individual attention since the day he was born. Luckily, he’s been pretty easy to please and undemanding, as long as he has a consistent supply of food.
Last night I spent a lot of time catching up on my What to Expect in the First Year. I’d left off somewhere around month six. It did say that babies are frustrated by not being able to communicate. It also said this is the time to teach a baby that other people have needs too. It gave advice on how to get a baby used to spending some time alone while you do other things.
I imagine that part of the crankiness is due to teething. River’s first tooth is on the way. It does seem that now might be a good time to bring someone else into the picture – to give him a chance to play with another child and to balance his needs with those of another child. We’re looking into the possibility of sharing our babysitter with a little girl of River’s age.
After a couple of months of feeling we pretty much had the hang of this, a new stage begins to challenge us afresh and send me back to the books. Now that I’m blogging, perhaps readers will also be able to offer advice.
Monday, August 25, 2008
The Rise of Parenting
I just finished I Feel Bad About My Neck by Nora Ephron, which is a pretty funny book, especially if you are over 30 and feel physically different than you did at 25. The chapter Parenting in Three Stages is also pretty funny, especially the first part, where she describes the rise of “parenting.”
Here, she mentions how simple parenting used to be: “You love your children, you hang out with them from time to time, you throw balls, you read stories, you make sure they know which utensil is the salad fork, you teach them to say please and thank you, you see that they have an occasional haircut, and you ask if you did their homework.”
She talks about babies being born with a personality that won’t change. “For a certain period, this child would live with you and your personality, and you would do your best to survive each other.”
Then she talks about the rise of “parenting,” which she describes as “Parenting was a participle, like going and doing and crusading and worrying; it was active, it was energetic, it was unrelenting. Parenting meant playing Mozart CDs while you were pregnant, doing without the epidural and breast-feeding our child until it was old enough to unbutton your blouse.”
This makes me wonder where I stand on the parenting spectrum – between the largely hands-off parenting of yesteryear compared with the involved helicopter parents of today. I’m not sure because I think I have some of both tendencies.
One thing that has always been on my mind since River was born is the Buryat belief that no matter what you do, kids will grow up and be who they are going to be. This is reinforced by my reading of Freakonomics, which basically said that almost nothing you do will be of any use, especially compared with the power of the child’s peer group. Among the factors that most-influenced success in children were not attendance at music classes or large amounts of quality time, but things like the mother being over 30 when the first child is born and having a lot of books in the house (the amount of time spent reading them doesn’t matter). These type of things are givens, not actions that take time and investment.
Yes, I suppose I can say I’ve been freaky about making sure he’s eating fresh and wholesome foods. I want him to have access to a potty (I don’t think a daycare that didn’t allow cloth diapers would be good for us). I’d like him to have as much individual attention as possible in his first year. I want him to feel safe and secure and to experience new things. But that’s about it. I worry very little about other things.
When I think ahead of what’s to come in his life, I want to be involved. People tend to argue that they become very involved in their children’s lives for the benefit of the child. But I recognize that I may not be getting involved for his benefit. He’s happy with anyone who is having a good time with him. The benefit is mine. Because it brings me joy to participate in his life.
The point at which my participation has a negative effect on him is where I need to draw the line and step back. I imagine that is hard to identify though.
One of the editors of Parenting magazine defended her helicopter-parenting in a recent issue, saying that she’s advocating for her children because she wants the best for them, because her parents weren’t able to do so, and because she can. She mentioned advocating for them in school. But from my brief period as a schoolteacher overseas, I saw especially active parents as doing a disservice to their children. The children learned that they didn’t really have to work hard, they didn’t have to achieve, because their parents would lobby the teacher or the administrators to their benefit.
The main benefit I see in very involved parenting is the child feeling the parent’s concern and love. I wonder if that will have the positive effect of strengthening families. As the parents want their children around for longer the usual 18 years, perhaps the children will also want to be around their parents. Perhaps more Americans will value proximity to their families over opportunities available far away. Maybe more children will repay their doting parents by taking active care of their parents as they age instead of relegating them to the care of strangers or institutions.
Here, she mentions how simple parenting used to be: “You love your children, you hang out with them from time to time, you throw balls, you read stories, you make sure they know which utensil is the salad fork, you teach them to say please and thank you, you see that they have an occasional haircut, and you ask if you did their homework.”
She talks about babies being born with a personality that won’t change. “For a certain period, this child would live with you and your personality, and you would do your best to survive each other.”
Then she talks about the rise of “parenting,” which she describes as “Parenting was a participle, like going and doing and crusading and worrying; it was active, it was energetic, it was unrelenting. Parenting meant playing Mozart CDs while you were pregnant, doing without the epidural and breast-feeding our child until it was old enough to unbutton your blouse.”
This makes me wonder where I stand on the parenting spectrum – between the largely hands-off parenting of yesteryear compared with the involved helicopter parents of today. I’m not sure because I think I have some of both tendencies.
One thing that has always been on my mind since River was born is the Buryat belief that no matter what you do, kids will grow up and be who they are going to be. This is reinforced by my reading of Freakonomics, which basically said that almost nothing you do will be of any use, especially compared with the power of the child’s peer group. Among the factors that most-influenced success in children were not attendance at music classes or large amounts of quality time, but things like the mother being over 30 when the first child is born and having a lot of books in the house (the amount of time spent reading them doesn’t matter). These type of things are givens, not actions that take time and investment.
Yes, I suppose I can say I’ve been freaky about making sure he’s eating fresh and wholesome foods. I want him to have access to a potty (I don’t think a daycare that didn’t allow cloth diapers would be good for us). I’d like him to have as much individual attention as possible in his first year. I want him to feel safe and secure and to experience new things. But that’s about it. I worry very little about other things.
When I think ahead of what’s to come in his life, I want to be involved. People tend to argue that they become very involved in their children’s lives for the benefit of the child. But I recognize that I may not be getting involved for his benefit. He’s happy with anyone who is having a good time with him. The benefit is mine. Because it brings me joy to participate in his life.
The point at which my participation has a negative effect on him is where I need to draw the line and step back. I imagine that is hard to identify though.
One of the editors of Parenting magazine defended her helicopter-parenting in a recent issue, saying that she’s advocating for her children because she wants the best for them, because her parents weren’t able to do so, and because she can. She mentioned advocating for them in school. But from my brief period as a schoolteacher overseas, I saw especially active parents as doing a disservice to their children. The children learned that they didn’t really have to work hard, they didn’t have to achieve, because their parents would lobby the teacher or the administrators to their benefit.
The main benefit I see in very involved parenting is the child feeling the parent’s concern and love. I wonder if that will have the positive effect of strengthening families. As the parents want their children around for longer the usual 18 years, perhaps the children will also want to be around their parents. Perhaps more Americans will value proximity to their families over opportunities available far away. Maybe more children will repay their doting parents by taking active care of their parents as they age instead of relegating them to the care of strangers or institutions.
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