Mommy Martyrs

We've all met them - the Mommy Martyrs.  Those mom's who not only sacrifice constantly for their children, and fight conventions, but make sure that everyone knows about it.

I make sacrifices for my children - most mother's do.  We give up a lot of more mundane things, like time with our friends and husbands, or our bodies.  We let our brains turn to mush because the only conversations we have all day long are about Dora, the color and shape of poop, and what flavor jelly to use.

Many of us also fight popular conventions.  We refuse to turn our car seats around at 1 year, breastfeed, delay solids until past six months.  Maybe we didn't circ, or had a natural birth.  Awesome work!  Keep it up!  Buuut...

STFU.

Okay, so that's a bit of a stretch - no one actually says all that at once. But I have actually seen someone say "I read up on this topic while breast feeding my toddler.  I find it really interesting."

.... Transparent much?  Kudos to you for breast feeding your toddler.  It's good for him, and it fights conventions (I'm generally ALL FOR fighting conventions).  But asking for a pat on the back in random places is too self serving for my taste.  That's not our job as mothers.  We're supposed to do what's best for our kids, not to get attention, but because it's best for them.

Don't get me wrong.  I love attention.  And I love when someone notices that I'm still nursing, or that I have two rear facing car seats.  Similarly, I would loathe it when someone comments negatively on these things (not that anyone ever has so far).  But I see no reason to mention that I breast feed in a Facebook group about car seats, or mention that my kid is uncirc'd on a JustMommies board about breast feeding.

And (here it comes) I roll my eyes at people who do.  Not all the people that do.  Just that ones that seem to need validation for every choice they ever make regarding their children.  Stand up for them, stand up for yourself, do your research, and make informed decisions.  You don't need people to constantly notice and tell you "great job!" for doing something you should be doing anyways.

/end rant

Be Careful What You Say

We hear it over and over from everyone around us - how our children are little parrots, how they hear everything we say and are likely to repeat it at the worst of times.  And we ALL know it's true.

When my son was about 2, he picked up "the D-word" somewhere, and every time something would go wrong in his life, out it would come.  He failed at a video game? "D-word."  He dropped something? "D-word."  I hung my head in shape when he said it in the grocery store, or the church play group.  Eventually he learned to stop saying it, or it stopped being cool, or something along those lines.

Now that he's a 3-year-old, it's even more pronounced.  When he drops a toy on his foot and says "aw, fiddlesticks!" I laugh.  When a toy breaks into pieces in his hands and he says "aw, w-t-f?" (letters not words), I sort of frown at him.  Oops.  I should probably stop saying that one.

But what people don't usually mention is how kids will easily pick up on the GOOD things you say as well.  Like, the best way to teach a kid to say "please" and "thank you" is to say them yourself in the appropriate situation.  But we kind of all know this - it's obvious.  But I never REALLY realized until just this weekend, that this really pertains to EVERYTHING.

We showed up to soccer practice early on Saturday, and while waiting for the coach Luke and I started kicking the ball around.  A little girl from his team walked over and asked to play.  They started kicking it back and forth, and every time the little girl would kick it Luke would tell her "Good kick!  Great job!" "Kick it again!  Yay!"

And my little 2-year-old cheers for me when I do simple tasks, such as using the potty, putting a toy away, or drawing a circle.  "Good JOB, Mom!  Yay, Mom!"

I guess I always knew that positive reinforcement was the way to go, and that it's how we shape them into decent human beings, and teach them how to treat people.  It's how we start preparing them to become good parents when it's their time.

But I spend so much time specifically thinking about what I SHOULDN'T say to my children, that I rarely stop and make sure that I'm saying all the right things.  It feels pretty good to know that I have been, but it woke me up to the fact that what we SHOULD say is more important than what we SHOULDN'T, and I feel like lots of us (parents) have been concentrating on the wrong side of the spectrum.

Irrational Panic Room

Sometimes I feel like I'm not the greatest mother because my Panic Button is broken.  You know the panic button - it manifests in multiple forms.  It shows up when you've had a near miss with your child's life (lost track of them for 10 seconds in the grocery store, saw them almost lose their balance on the stairs).  This feature of the panic button works for me.  I do in fact freak out a little when my child almost falls down the stairs, or gets away from my hand in a parking lot.

But the preventative feature of my panic button seems to be broken.

My brain fails to jump to the most horrific of the what-if's, especially not regarding other people's children.  For instance, someone recently posted on a Facebook group about seeing two children, 7-ish, sitting in the back of a car in a parking lot playing video games while their mother was inside.  Outraged, many commenters said they would have called 911 because *insert list of things* could have happened, seeming to think these children were in some kind of mortal danger, warranting an immediate and/or legal intervention.

Me?I decided that since it wasn't illegal for them to be there (not in the state in which it occurred, which is my state, so I knew the law off hand), and they were obviously fine, I saw no reason to call 911 or freak the heck out on the parents.  Now, if the children were banging on the windows with hands that said "NOT PENNY'S BOAT" tattooed on them, begging for help, or if they looked to be in some kind of distress, that would be completely different.  So I thought "meh, why get involved? Kids seem fine."

Apparently what I SHOULD have been thinking was that these two young children were going to be kidnapped out of the back seat, the victims of a freak car jacking, beat up for their video games, or they were going to put the car into gear and kill themselves or someone else.  This is why my Panic Button is apparently broken, because none of those things really occurred to me.  And even once they were suggested, the only option I considered a legitimate possibility was beat up for their video games.

Maybe I just know too much about statistics? There is a .00016% chance that any given child will be kidnapped by a random stranger anywhere in the US.  I can quote sources if you'd like, but you should just take my word for it.  While I'm not thinking "it'll never happen to me" I *am* thinking that "it probably is not going to happen to me, or them, or them."  Obviously it does happen to some people, but it can't be denied that some areas are safer than others.  I know the crime statistics in my small little college town, and the odds of my child being snatched off the sidewalk while I'm putting his sisters in the car are incredibly slim, and I might even venture to say that it's never gonna happen.

Here's what you've been waiting for - a list of things I think are and are not worth panicking about (I'd like to add a disclaimer that my children are generally too old or too young for some of these items, so they may not apply directly to me.  I do not let my 2-year-old play outside where I can't see her, but if she was 8, it'd be a different story).

Don't Panic: There hasn't been a kidnapping in your town for over a decade so you want to let your child play outside unsupervised.
Panic: There is a serial kidnapper in your town, and your neighbor is letting her child play outside unsupervised.

Don't Panic: Stepping six feet from the tub your toddler is in to get a towel
Panic: Wandering around talking on the phone and cooking dinner while your infant bathes.

Don't Panic: children alone in a car, experiencing no distress
Panic: Children alone in the car who look as though they made need help


Don't Panic: A dog riding in the car with children
Panic: A dog in the back of a pick up truck

Don't Panic: you see a pit bull
Panic: you see a pit bull that is foaming at the mouth, snarling viciously, and/or holding a sign that says "I want to rip out your throat."

Don't Panic: Your neighbor leaves her sleeping child in the house to run next door or across the street.


Panic: Your neighbor leaves her sleeping child in the house to run to the store or go to a bar.
Don't Panic: A mother feeds her baby rice cereal at six weeks because she hopes it will help him sleep.
Panic: A mother forgets to feed her baby anything for at least a day.

Don't Panic: Your child has a fever of 103.2.
Panic: Your child has a fever of 106.

I think you're starting to get the idea.  I really feel like MOST parenting decisions are merely choices, and the children will be fine.  Just because they are choices that *I* wouldn't make for myself or my children, it doesn't mean you should panic and alert the neighborhood watch, fire department, and/or local hospitals.

I really feel like I'm in the minority of parents because I don't panic (or freak out) if my child were to spike a fever.  I let them ride in the base of the shopping cart, and sleep in their bouncy seat.  I use a crib bumper.  I have a dog with a large blocky looking head.  I have more than one dog.  I do not follow my dogs around the house to make sure they aren't salivating over the potential deliciousness of my children.  The list goes on, but I won't go into any more detail.  Suffice to say there are many parenting decisions I make that others don't agree with.

It just makes me wonder if I am somehow a broken parent.

SHOULD I go to the ER if I start spotting at 6 weeks pregnant, or just wait it out at home and save my $300?
SHOULD I let my children play on the trampoline, or dress them in bubble wrap before they go outside?
SHOULD I always assume my dog is always on the brink of an uncharacteristic death spree?
SHOULD I be concerned about other people's children (age 6ish) playing outside alone in a 99.99999% safe neighborhood (I'd say 100% but I don't like absolutes)?
SHOULD I worry that my house is going to be broken into at any time, morning, noon, or night?
SHOULD I mentally slap people who turn their kids around at 1 (or sooner), or booster them at 2?

This list goes on as well.  I don't dislike that I don't freak out, but sometimes I worry that I come across as cold and/or unfeeling towards my children because I am not constantly worried about their safety, or thinking of the horrible things that could happen to them when they go outside or eat macaroni and cheese for the second time in a week.

So I guess my whole point was to let people know that I do in fact consider these things, and I feel confidant that my child will not be kidnapped from my front door, that my dog is not going to randomly channel Kujo, and that my 3-year-old is not going to drown in the bathtub if I look away for 10 seconds.  It's not that I haven't considered the possibilities, it's that I considered them and then discarded them.  I can't imagine I will change and become a panicker any time soon, and would like to add that I do take reasonable precautions in all things.

Even though I know I PROBABLY won't get in a car accident in my neighborhood, my children are still always in car seats.  I still stay in the room while my almost 4-year-old takes a bath, and I don't let my small children run around the neighborhood while I sit on my butt and blog.  Again, this list goes on.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Co-Sleeping

I'm a fairly AP/TP kind of parent, especially to Heidi.

I breast feed (as much as I can) and intend to let her self wean, despite the fact that she bites.
I baby wear (I have a Baby K'Tan wrap that my wonderful Morgan bought me - see Doctor's office picture below).
I try to use gentle discipline, but I'm more an advocate for "what works" and "we talk and then we hug" doesn't always work.  But Heidi is only one, so her discipline is still very gentle (and ineffective but that's another story).
I did cloth diaper, but I hate my HEFL washing machine, and quit (cloth diapering isn't really AP but they seem to go hand in hand frequently).
I answer her cries as quick as I can.  She isn't allowed to CIO no matter how tired I am, or how frustrated I am with holding her.
And, as the title of this entry suggests, we co-sleep, a fact my husband is less than thrilled about.

I enjoy all of these things MOST of the time.  Breast feeding is less fun when she's biting or pinching me, and baby wearing is less fun in the middle of Florida's summer.  But still, for the most part, I do these things willingly and not JUST because it's better for Heidi.  Except co-sleeping.  I do not like co-sleeping.

Heidi is not the first kid to sleep in our bed.  I was against any kids in the bed for the first 2 years of Luke's life.  But at 2, he was still waking up multiple times a night, and we were so sleep deprived that we were contemplating suicide.  So finally, we brought him into our bed at night, and wondrously HE SLEPT!

If you don't know my family well, let me mention that my son, now nearing to 4, is also nearing to 60 pounds.  He outgrew his 40 pound limit car seat when he was still 2.  He's not the pillsbury dough boy or anything, but I admit he's a little chubby.  This is him now:

 

We have a queen-sized bed.  Not enormous, but relatively large.  Two adults and an enormous toddler in a queen sized bed? It's doable, right?  We often woke up like this though:

Then Heidi was born.  Sweet wonderful Heidi.  And we were now co-sleeping with an enormous toddler and a newborn, in a queen-sized bed.  Please, shoot me.  We finally got Luke out of our bed on MOST nights, though he still comes in and says "I wanna lay ness to you" at least a couple times a week.

But Heidi.  I found this link a while back, and it really sums things up for me:

http://www.amberdusick.com/woodmouse_loves_crafts/2011/06/what-it-is-like-to-not-sleep-at-night-illustrated-with-crappy-pictures.html

Particularly THIS picture:

Heidi is a Starfish.  And a twist - she's a star fish with my sense of personal space.  And she's a bi-polar sleeper.  So she spends the night alternating between "cuddle me, I want to nurse" and "DON'T TOUCH ME I NEED MY SPACE!"

Cuddle me, DON'T TOUCH ME, cuddle me, DON'T TOUCH ME!  This wouldn't be so bad if she didn't star fish.  But she does.  And we end up contorted into odd shapes in an attempt to not be touching her as she sprawls out in the middle of the bed.

Note her position in the middle of the bed, and the fact that she's sort of sideways? She does this at night when we're in the bed, too.  You see the problem here?

We can't get her OUT of our bed, because then she wakes up every hour wanting to cuddle and/or nurse again.  So we're kind of stuck.  Do we try and sleep with her in the bed, or do we try and sleep with her out of the bed? If she's in the bed we do get more sleep, but we wake up needing a massage and a chiropractor every morning.  If she sleeps out of the bed, we wake up... well, we wake up a lot, all night long.  It's kind of a lose-lose situation.

Maybe she'll grow out of it? The AP advocates always make co-sleeping sound like this amazing special experience, full of nothing but joy and good feelings.  Liars.