I feel craggy much of the time.
So-- I own one pair of jeans that fit my second-time-around-post-pregnancy body. One pair of workout pants. Exactly one "nice" top... and then a mountain of sweats-like things. What is this existence? Who am I, even?
I am a sponge. I am available to absorb the snot, juice, and tears of my offpsring. So, I guess the more plush I am, the better.
One day I will wear an actual outfit again and it won't be an occasion. I sense it in my distant future. Until then, I will luxuriate in my spit-up stained--but cozy-- wardrobe.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Wiping
I do a lot of wiping.
Noses and tushies mainly, but also a table top and floor here and there.
Lots of wiping. Lots.
Noses and tushies mainly, but also a table top and floor here and there.
Lots of wiping. Lots.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Stroller Strides
Last weekend I went through the Stroller Strides Instructor Training Program again. I did it simply to earn CECs (Continuing Education Credits) since I was originally certified in 2008.
Sitting in that conference room all weekend re-learning all about prenatal and postpartum fitness made me think about the first day I tried Stroller Strides.
The #1 reason I went? I had a coupon! #2 I didn't know any mothers, except for one neighbor -- and when we had playdates I always felt I was doing motherhood wrong.
I remember getting dressed-- none of my old workout clothes fit, and even if they had I wasn't read to be that scantily clad. I couldn't believe how long it took me to get out the door with baby Zoe, then 6 months old. Water for me, snack for her, blankets, clean diaper, toys, stroller... the list was endless! Gone were the days of getting ready 15 minutes before I had to be somewhere-- I used to be great at that!
I arrived, self-conscious and worried. Worried about:
It didn't take many classes before I suddenly felt happier--- and more like "Emily". I had friends! Zoe had friends--whoa! And I looked forward to getting there---- crazy packing of the car and all. It turned out-- even though every mom I met was different-- no one was judging. Sometimes one mom would cry and then everyone started! Sometimes we'd chat and giggle and get in trouble with the instructor. What fun to know we were still women who people looked forward to seeing. It's different making friends as a mom. The criteria are different. It's not "Did we vote for the same person?" it's "Our kids didn't sleep through the night till the were TWO!" For me, in that first year (I've now just begun Year #4 with Stroller Strides) it was the feeling that baby was central to everything, but Mommy's health and happiness was the foundation--- and sharing that journey with other women going through it. The embracing of that concept still has me coming back every week.
Sitting in that conference room all weekend re-learning all about prenatal and postpartum fitness made me think about the first day I tried Stroller Strides.
The #1 reason I went? I had a coupon! #2 I didn't know any mothers, except for one neighbor -- and when we had playdates I always felt I was doing motherhood wrong.
I remember getting dressed-- none of my old workout clothes fit, and even if they had I wasn't read to be that scantily clad. I couldn't believe how long it took me to get out the door with baby Zoe, then 6 months old. Water for me, snack for her, blankets, clean diaper, toys, stroller... the list was endless! Gone were the days of getting ready 15 minutes before I had to be somewhere-- I used to be great at that!
I arrived, self-conscious and worried. Worried about:
- Being the fattest mom there
- Zoe crying the whole time
- No one else going through what I was going through
- Keeping up
- Finishing the class
- Having fun
- Making friends
- Having other moms judge me
It didn't take many classes before I suddenly felt happier--- and more like "Emily". I had friends! Zoe had friends--whoa! And I looked forward to getting there---- crazy packing of the car and all. It turned out-- even though every mom I met was different-- no one was judging. Sometimes one mom would cry and then everyone started! Sometimes we'd chat and giggle and get in trouble with the instructor. What fun to know we were still women who people looked forward to seeing. It's different making friends as a mom. The criteria are different. It's not "Did we vote for the same person?" it's "Our kids didn't sleep through the night till the were TWO!" For me, in that first year (I've now just begun Year #4 with Stroller Strides) it was the feeling that baby was central to everything, but Mommy's health and happiness was the foundation--- and sharing that journey with other women going through it. The embracing of that concept still has me coming back every week.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Friends and Family: Who wins?
My Family of Origin is not dysfunctional in any special or drastic way-- just the regular way.
All the women obsessed with weight and the weight of others---judge success by it, etc. My grandmother's favorite bounced between whoever had the most recent accolades and sent prompt thank-you notes. The men were quiet, and there were subjects that were off limits. Only certain people got to claim mistreatment, others got no sympathy.
When I went to college, I put together my Chosen Family-- uncalculated, just fate. Made up of close friends who knew my deepest emotions and most shameful secrets, it was a relief to be embraced in my totality.
Over 6 years ago I found my husband Seth and also an entirely new level of emotional intimacy. We had two daughters and now we are a unit--a foursome--and in this cocoon I feel the safest I've ever felt. I feel heard, I feel loved, I want to reciprocate and I want all of us to be happy and healthy and okay.
My husband and I talk a lot about wanting close friends. We have moved a lot, and my Chosen Family is spread from Chicago to New York. Seth is more of a loner, connecting with whoever is in his immediate world. We'd love to have friends we can let go with, be us, connect.
But, is it possible?
In college, I was my own entity-- it was easier for me to make these deep connections when I was with the same people day in and day out---living, studying, sharing philosophies, staying up all night and not worrying about mortgages or rocking a teething baby to sleep at 3:28am.
I feel nervous getting close to another person who might depend on me, when I'm barely juggling the four in my own family (yes, I go on the list, too). But I long for it. Like, really long for it. But, after meeting new people, invariably I have a list of why I don't think we're compatible friends after about 2 hours. (I couldn't swear around her, he is an idiot, she is too negative, he doesn't help with the kids, she would think I'm too liberal, etc, etc. ) These are my own projections, but my imagination grips me sometimes.
Whenever I go out with other moms for the night, I am so happy---it's wonderful. I'm Emily again. No other role attached.
Maybe that's it-- in college I didn't really have any roles yet-- I was figuring out which ones I wanted to take on... shopping for roles.
Family of Origin. While I see a lot of young families around me closer than ever to theirs, I just feel the urge to keep distancing myself from mine. I feel-- at worst-- depressed and angry and --at best- nostalgic with mine. I feel I'm seventeen, not heard, and the biggest turn off of all-- the feeling that no one wants to address anything slightly uncomfortable--even if it's eating the room alive.
Where does that leave us? and wy do I feel like the only one in my generation in this camp? I see grandparents in my girls' friends lives all over the place. In the trenches! Or--- distant-- either geographically or long ago cut out.
Honestly, I want to do what feels good. Life has too many other "must-dos" that I don't want to spend mine in obligation. But--- sometimes I am not even sure what would feel good. Wonderful grandparents? A great network of other parent-friends? Just being our own little Carpenter Island? I've got to keep reminding myself that it take a long time to get these kind of answers.
Family is just accident.... They don't mean to get on your nerves. They don't even mean to be your family, they just are. ~Marsha Norman
Friends are God's apology for relations. ~Hugh Kingsmill
No two people - no mere father and mother - as I have often said, are enough to provide emotional security for a child. He needs to feel himself one in a world of kinfolk, persons of variety in age and temperament, and yet allied to himself by an indissoluble bond which he cannot break if he could, for nature has welded him into it before he was born. ~Pearl S. Buck
All the women obsessed with weight and the weight of others---judge success by it, etc. My grandmother's favorite bounced between whoever had the most recent accolades and sent prompt thank-you notes. The men were quiet, and there were subjects that were off limits. Only certain people got to claim mistreatment, others got no sympathy.
When I went to college, I put together my Chosen Family-- uncalculated, just fate. Made up of close friends who knew my deepest emotions and most shameful secrets, it was a relief to be embraced in my totality.
Over 6 years ago I found my husband Seth and also an entirely new level of emotional intimacy. We had two daughters and now we are a unit--a foursome--and in this cocoon I feel the safest I've ever felt. I feel heard, I feel loved, I want to reciprocate and I want all of us to be happy and healthy and okay.
My husband and I talk a lot about wanting close friends. We have moved a lot, and my Chosen Family is spread from Chicago to New York. Seth is more of a loner, connecting with whoever is in his immediate world. We'd love to have friends we can let go with, be us, connect.
But, is it possible?
In college, I was my own entity-- it was easier for me to make these deep connections when I was with the same people day in and day out---living, studying, sharing philosophies, staying up all night and not worrying about mortgages or rocking a teething baby to sleep at 3:28am.
I feel nervous getting close to another person who might depend on me, when I'm barely juggling the four in my own family (yes, I go on the list, too). But I long for it. Like, really long for it. But, after meeting new people, invariably I have a list of why I don't think we're compatible friends after about 2 hours. (I couldn't swear around her, he is an idiot, she is too negative, he doesn't help with the kids, she would think I'm too liberal, etc, etc. ) These are my own projections, but my imagination grips me sometimes.
Whenever I go out with other moms for the night, I am so happy---it's wonderful. I'm Emily again. No other role attached.
Maybe that's it-- in college I didn't really have any roles yet-- I was figuring out which ones I wanted to take on... shopping for roles.
Family of Origin. While I see a lot of young families around me closer than ever to theirs, I just feel the urge to keep distancing myself from mine. I feel-- at worst-- depressed and angry and --at best- nostalgic with mine. I feel I'm seventeen, not heard, and the biggest turn off of all-- the feeling that no one wants to address anything slightly uncomfortable--even if it's eating the room alive.
Where does that leave us? and wy do I feel like the only one in my generation in this camp? I see grandparents in my girls' friends lives all over the place. In the trenches! Or--- distant-- either geographically or long ago cut out.
Honestly, I want to do what feels good. Life has too many other "must-dos" that I don't want to spend mine in obligation. But--- sometimes I am not even sure what would feel good. Wonderful grandparents? A great network of other parent-friends? Just being our own little Carpenter Island? I've got to keep reminding myself that it take a long time to get these kind of answers.
Family is just accident.... They don't mean to get on your nerves. They don't even mean to be your family, they just are. ~Marsha Norman
Friends are God's apology for relations. ~Hugh Kingsmill
No two people - no mere father and mother - as I have often said, are enough to provide emotional security for a child. He needs to feel himself one in a world of kinfolk, persons of variety in age and temperament, and yet allied to himself by an indissoluble bond which he cannot break if he could, for nature has welded him into it before he was born. ~Pearl S. Buck
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
I hate breastfeeding
First of all let me say I am a proud breastfeeding mom. I nursed my first daughter 13 months and I am headed into the 9th month with my second daughter and will wean her at 12-13 months.
Let me also say I am writing this not to---but FOR--- all of the moms (or future moms) out there who have said, "Ugh, I just couldn't do it."
Every night while I do the last nursing of the night, I think about how I want to go write about how I feel when I am nursing, but then I de-latch her, rock her, kiss her tiny face, put her in her crib, sing her sleepy face a song, and I decide it's not so bad. But-- as I left her nursery (pun intended) tonight, I promised myself this night I WOULD write it down. I had to tell myself that hating breastfeeding doesn't mean not loving Teagan (or Zoe circa 2007-8).
When I was 5 months pregnant (before I got educated on the subject), I decided to breastfeed for two reasons alone:
1. It's free. (Formula can cost anywhere from $100-$600 per month)
2. I'd heard most women's breasts shrink to smaller than before pregnancy. I was a DD and hoping for a free breast reduction.
(Well, #1 was right on and awesome. #2... not so much. I went from a DD cup pre-pregnancy... to a DDD, to a G, to an H nursing #1, back to a G after weaning and much exercise, back to an H pregnant with #2, to where I reside now... a J cup nursing #2. I hate it. My back hurts all the time and anything besides a turtleneck shows cleavage. It's ridiculous.)
But--- I was determined to nurse. After reading all of the benefits (lower allergy and asthma rates, lower cancer rates for mom and baby, higher IQs, less sickness, lower incidence of SIDs and diabetes, decreased osteoporosis for mom, lower medical expenses, better for the environment, on and on... but this isn't what today's blog is about) it was an easy decision. Plus, my husband was ALL for it, and your husband's support- I learned from my lactation consultant- can mean up to 90% of why you succeed or fail.
Today's blog is about how I hate breastfeeding. How pretty much for the collective 22 months I've put into breastfeeding, I have waited for the next feeding time with anxiety. How I don't like how it feels, I don't like how long it takes, I resent that I can't just cuddle my baby-- she'll want to nurse. And with J cup breasts, it's not a cozy feeding for me-- one hand holds her neck above and the other holds my breast like a pancake so it doesn't block her nose and she can breathe. And both girls are LONG feeders. Even at 8 months I have to pull her off after 30 minutes. They'd never be done! I HATE IT. Someone out there might say, "Have you never enjoyed a feeding?" Nope, I would say I have never enjoyed a feeding. I would say, at best, I have gotten to a place of contentment many times. A handful of times I've fallen asleep, but it takes a lot for that because the sensation does not lull me to sleep despite the hormones that are released.
My point is this (besides "getting it off my chest"):
I don't think I'm the norm among breastfeeding moms, but I wanted to put this out there because I feel like non-breastfeeding moms look at breastfeeding moms as these women who "can" do it--it's easy for them or they enjoy it.
Well, let me just state for the record, I do NOT enjoy it. But I've done it for 22 months. Giving my girls formula to me felt like living on an organic vegetable farm but going to Walmart for canned peas. It's their milk. And it's one year of their life and they get this huge leg up-- how could I pass on that despite my "un-enjoyment"?
I do understand there ARE women who aren't able to breastfeed--and even if they are, it's just not the right choice for them, and I really do respect that. Being a mom is hard enough, you've got to do what works for your family.
I just feel like the only nursing mom who feels this way, so I wanted to put this out there.
So far-- if all goes according to plan-- I have 16 more months to go, which means I am only a little over halfway through my breastfeeding 'sentence'.
I am grateful that I am able to do this-- heck--even 2 months ago, my older one got pinkeye and I cured it by injecting my breast milk in her eye for 3 days! This stuff really is magic. Stuff like that keeps me going.
I just can't help feeling if more of the moms who "couldn't do it" DID do it, I'd have more people to complain with! ;)
Let me also say I am writing this not to---but FOR--- all of the moms (or future moms) out there who have said, "Ugh, I just couldn't do it."
Every night while I do the last nursing of the night, I think about how I want to go write about how I feel when I am nursing, but then I de-latch her, rock her, kiss her tiny face, put her in her crib, sing her sleepy face a song, and I decide it's not so bad. But-- as I left her nursery (pun intended) tonight, I promised myself this night I WOULD write it down. I had to tell myself that hating breastfeeding doesn't mean not loving Teagan (or Zoe circa 2007-8).
When I was 5 months pregnant (before I got educated on the subject), I decided to breastfeed for two reasons alone:
1. It's free. (Formula can cost anywhere from $100-$600 per month)
2. I'd heard most women's breasts shrink to smaller than before pregnancy. I was a DD and hoping for a free breast reduction.
(Well, #1 was right on and awesome. #2... not so much. I went from a DD cup pre-pregnancy... to a DDD, to a G, to an H nursing #1, back to a G after weaning and much exercise, back to an H pregnant with #2, to where I reside now... a J cup nursing #2. I hate it. My back hurts all the time and anything besides a turtleneck shows cleavage. It's ridiculous.)
But--- I was determined to nurse. After reading all of the benefits (lower allergy and asthma rates, lower cancer rates for mom and baby, higher IQs, less sickness, lower incidence of SIDs and diabetes, decreased osteoporosis for mom, lower medical expenses, better for the environment, on and on... but this isn't what today's blog is about) it was an easy decision. Plus, my husband was ALL for it, and your husband's support- I learned from my lactation consultant- can mean up to 90% of why you succeed or fail.
Today's blog is about how I hate breastfeeding. How pretty much for the collective 22 months I've put into breastfeeding, I have waited for the next feeding time with anxiety. How I don't like how it feels, I don't like how long it takes, I resent that I can't just cuddle my baby-- she'll want to nurse. And with J cup breasts, it's not a cozy feeding for me-- one hand holds her neck above and the other holds my breast like a pancake so it doesn't block her nose and she can breathe. And both girls are LONG feeders. Even at 8 months I have to pull her off after 30 minutes. They'd never be done! I HATE IT. Someone out there might say, "Have you never enjoyed a feeding?" Nope, I would say I have never enjoyed a feeding. I would say, at best, I have gotten to a place of contentment many times. A handful of times I've fallen asleep, but it takes a lot for that because the sensation does not lull me to sleep despite the hormones that are released.
My point is this (besides "getting it off my chest"):
I don't think I'm the norm among breastfeeding moms, but I wanted to put this out there because I feel like non-breastfeeding moms look at breastfeeding moms as these women who "can" do it--it's easy for them or they enjoy it.
Well, let me just state for the record, I do NOT enjoy it. But I've done it for 22 months. Giving my girls formula to me felt like living on an organic vegetable farm but going to Walmart for canned peas. It's their milk. And it's one year of their life and they get this huge leg up-- how could I pass on that despite my "un-enjoyment"?
I do understand there ARE women who aren't able to breastfeed--and even if they are, it's just not the right choice for them, and I really do respect that. Being a mom is hard enough, you've got to do what works for your family.
I just feel like the only nursing mom who feels this way, so I wanted to put this out there.
So far-- if all goes according to plan-- I have 16 more months to go, which means I am only a little over halfway through my breastfeeding 'sentence'.
I am grateful that I am able to do this-- heck--even 2 months ago, my older one got pinkeye and I cured it by injecting my breast milk in her eye for 3 days! This stuff really is magic. Stuff like that keeps me going.
I just can't help feeling if more of the moms who "couldn't do it" DID do it, I'd have more people to complain with! ;)
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Being a mother
I know there are so many who grow up without a mother, and that isn't me. I really had a great mother growing up. It's when I turned 20 I started to lose her.
In talking with a life coach, I have come to realize that letting go of what you'd hoped for and assumed (having an adult relationship with my mother, my children having a meaningful relationship with her) is grief work. These are still things untalked about commonly and not usually validated. But, it makes sense. Gone is the mother I knew and loved. Or, if not gone, buried by her husband, which might be worse. I have a hard time not feeling 'less than' that her love for me wasn't enough for her to feel protective of me or our relationship.
I love my girls to the bone. Yes, I lose my temper, get annoyed, etc--- but dare anyone else hurt them physically, emotionally, mentally and a rage of protectiveness rises in me like nobody's business. Perhaps that will fade, but disappear? I am 99.9% certain it will not. I am their mother and no person on earth could make me give up on them or flush our relationship.
I feel sad, but sadder still that the last years make me feel like I don't want to see her anymore. I hope that feeling or the circumstances, or both-- changes.
In talking with a life coach, I have come to realize that letting go of what you'd hoped for and assumed (having an adult relationship with my mother, my children having a meaningful relationship with her) is grief work. These are still things untalked about commonly and not usually validated. But, it makes sense. Gone is the mother I knew and loved. Or, if not gone, buried by her husband, which might be worse. I have a hard time not feeling 'less than' that her love for me wasn't enough for her to feel protective of me or our relationship.
I love my girls to the bone. Yes, I lose my temper, get annoyed, etc--- but dare anyone else hurt them physically, emotionally, mentally and a rage of protectiveness rises in me like nobody's business. Perhaps that will fade, but disappear? I am 99.9% certain it will not. I am their mother and no person on earth could make me give up on them or flush our relationship.
I feel sad, but sadder still that the last years make me feel like I don't want to see her anymore. I hope that feeling or the circumstances, or both-- changes.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Nursery Loves Company
I dropped my oldest daughter off at school the other day, and settled into the passenger seat of my minivan for a nursing session with my youngest daughter. I had 20 minutes until I had to be at the park to teach Stroller Strides and I was determined to relax and fill her belly with milk.
I am always a bit anxious when I nurse in the car. If I park in a clandestine spot, will people think I'm up to no good? People hanging out in their cars is always odd. If I park in a out-in-open spot, I have to worry about people walking past and giving half a wave before scurrying off once they see partial boob.
So, as I settled in to nurse in my car for the first time in the parking lot of Zoe's new school, I was hoping no one would judge me--- either for what they saw me doing, or for what they guessed.
Then, I looked over, and in the minivan next to me, in the driver's seat... a mom nursing her baby.
We didn't acknowledge each other-- I think we just happened to notice each other at different times.
But I could feel the motherlove. :)
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