The NYT's blog on parenting "Motherload" has had yet another fabulous post. This one called In Defense of the Doormat Dad.
As I read the post I found myself shaking my head and thinking, 'I believe I've taught children of parents like this at Harvard and been incredibly frustrated by them.' This dad, because of the overly strong method of discipline issued by his father has decided discipline isn't his thing and he always gives in to his child - in doing that he always makes his wife the bad guy (note to the dude who wrote the article: if she doesn't already resent you for this, she will, soon).
It also made me reflect on how things happen in our household. I am, by far, the more strict parent. That is in part because 1. I believe in the power of limits with children - and see them as empowering rather than disempowering, 2. I firmly believe that at age 38 I know better than a 2 year old, 3. I am home much more and deal with the consequences of a child's behavior much more often and 4. I value my sanity.
Just an hour ago, my nearly three year old tried valiantly to convince me that she needed to have music on to be able to nap. That music would, in fact, help her sleep. That this was all issued to me in a whine told me all I needed to hear - her level of fatigue meant if no nap happened the rest of the afternoon would be ugly. From prior experience, when I gave in on music and let it play during nap time (only once), she did not nap and instead was out of her room as soon as the CD ended and was a freaking disaster by the end of the day.
I have seen in our house the role of the parent who gives in to a child's whims and the parent who doesn't and the conflict that can create. For a long time, I felt like the police always having to tell the other two members of the household when it was time for bath, time for bed, time for lights out. It made me resentful. Why was I the only parent who seemed concerned with getting the child to bed on time? Sleep is critical and important to a child's development and mood and to the mood of the mother who will have to deal with said child the next day. Eventually, I stopped saying "okay, it is time for tub," when I wasn't the parent who was going to give the tub. That stopped me from feeling like the police, but it doesn't stop me from wondering why the other parent doesn't seem to see how tired the child is and how getting to bed a bit early could benefit everyone. However, I do realize they have to develop their own way of doing things and develop their own sort of relationship.
What I've also learned is it is hard to be the parent who is gone all week at work, leaving at 8am and home at 6pm and then issue boundaries. It is never fun to the be the parent who says no, but for me, as long as that no comes with a real reason that is ultimately to the child's benefit, I'm okay with it. It is rare that the child flinches when I say no, even when it is issued in a stern voice. However, recently, when she grabbed a knife off of the counter and accidentally poked her father in the arm with it and he said no to her, she immediately sulked and started to whimper. That cut right to the core of him and he felt terrible. She came to me for comfort and he apologized for hurting her feelings.
As we talked about it later and he expressed how terrible he felt about making her cry, I tried to reassure him that he is doing less damage by teaching her things like 'you don't brandish knives and stick people with them', than by saying nothing and letting her do what she pleases. Those are simple lessons she needs to learn, even if they come with a brief crying fit.
When I told her recently that she could not touch the television screen, she replied, "oh mommy, you say no to everything." I stopped and thought about that a bit and realized that I do say no to a lot, but there's a lot of behavior that she'd engage in if there were no limits. I make a concerted effort to say yes to things she requests that are in the realm of acceptable behavior or fun or going to enrich her day - you want to play with playdough while I make your lunch? Great! You'd like to go to the library this afternoon rather than play in the yard? Fantastic! You'd like to watch Sesame Street for the second time today? No. One time through is enough. You'd like a brownie before your lunch? No, we eat our growing foods first. But, if you eat all your lunch, you can have a brownie.
I think we've gotten to a better balance in our parenting of both of us instilling discipline and I certainly have a better perspective on my husband's experience of it and why it presents challenges for him.
For the sake of the dad who wrote the blog post, I hope he learns it is ok to cut short your child's tub at night if it is going to take him past his regular bedtime and that though your child requests you to turn right rather than left on the way home, you might still want to go the way you've planned because a detour might throw off all kinds of other things you (or your wife) may have planned - like, oh, say, a timely dinner that would lead to a timely tub, that would lead to a timely bedtime.
None of us has all the answers as parents but for the future teachers of your children and all the people who will interact with them, please set some basic limits so they don't end up pissing off the world with their entitlement and obnoxiousness.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Just noticing...
One of the things I admire the most about my husband is his seemingly endless well of patience - with me, with our child, with life. As someone who has a patience well that is as deep as the shallowest of puddles, I fully appreciate the value of being with someone who can endure when, so often, I cannot.
At night, when I've had it with the day and the child has had it with the day and the two of us are apt to get on each other's nerves, he is able to negotiate the final hour of her day in a way that I could never. Tonight, she was edging toward wild and he suggested that they 'do shells' before going up to do a tub.
The Hubs is a serious collector of shells. If we are at a beach, he is picking them up and usually bringing a fair number home. We have various containers filled with shells throughout the house (incidentally, my mother also collects shells and I grew up with containers of them in our house, so this was not all that strange to me that he has them too) and the one in the living room is a glass bowl filled with them.
The process of 'doing shells' is to take the bowl down from the bookcase, take the shells out one by one putting them on the coffee table - sometimes remarking on their color, or noticing the shape, or enjoying the tactile experience of touching their ridged edges, or simply just loving the process of taking out and putting back in - something at which all toddlers excel.
This particular container of shells has lots of small scallop-like shells and some others that I can't identify. There are also lots of pieces of shells, scraps of broken up conch shells, pieces of dog whelks and what not.
If it were me, I wouldn't pick up a broken shell, let alone bring it home. But, this, people, is what I love about my husband. He looks at a broken shell and sees the beauty in what is there - ignoring whatever else might be missing. As he pulls those shells out he'll often comment to the Shorty on what parts of it are neat, or how the color changes inside and out.
It is just a truism about him that he can find such beauty and wonder in the most imperfect of situations, beings and things. This, perhaps, is why he is able to love me! The way he views a shell, whether whole or broken, is how he views life. There is always something good and redeeming no matter what is going on or how difficult the situation. He is kind, he is patient, he is compassionate and he can find beauty in the smallest scrap of a shell.
At night, when I've had it with the day and the child has had it with the day and the two of us are apt to get on each other's nerves, he is able to negotiate the final hour of her day in a way that I could never. Tonight, she was edging toward wild and he suggested that they 'do shells' before going up to do a tub.
The Hubs is a serious collector of shells. If we are at a beach, he is picking them up and usually bringing a fair number home. We have various containers filled with shells throughout the house (incidentally, my mother also collects shells and I grew up with containers of them in our house, so this was not all that strange to me that he has them too) and the one in the living room is a glass bowl filled with them.
The process of 'doing shells' is to take the bowl down from the bookcase, take the shells out one by one putting them on the coffee table - sometimes remarking on their color, or noticing the shape, or enjoying the tactile experience of touching their ridged edges, or simply just loving the process of taking out and putting back in - something at which all toddlers excel.
This particular container of shells has lots of small scallop-like shells and some others that I can't identify. There are also lots of pieces of shells, scraps of broken up conch shells, pieces of dog whelks and what not.
If it were me, I wouldn't pick up a broken shell, let alone bring it home. But, this, people, is what I love about my husband. He looks at a broken shell and sees the beauty in what is there - ignoring whatever else might be missing. As he pulls those shells out he'll often comment to the Shorty on what parts of it are neat, or how the color changes inside and out.
It is just a truism about him that he can find such beauty and wonder in the most imperfect of situations, beings and things. This, perhaps, is why he is able to love me! The way he views a shell, whether whole or broken, is how he views life. There is always something good and redeeming no matter what is going on or how difficult the situation. He is kind, he is patient, he is compassionate and he can find beauty in the smallest scrap of a shell.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Should be we surprised by this?
Another day of buzz on the interwebs. This one is a true tragedy; the shooting in Aurora, CO at a midnight showing of the new Batman movie.
It is so terribly hard to make sense of such a senseless act, until you start to wonder how senseless it really is. When we live in a society that, for all intents and purposes, extols the virtues of violence, should we feel shocked when all that is offered as entertainment comes to life?
A line from an article on boston.com jumped out at me: "...maybe it’s worth having a discussion about an entertainment culture that excels at selling violent power fantasies to people who feel powerless." I don't think the violence is limited to power fantasies aimed at the powerless.
It is everywhere from the myriad police-based shows, shows about the mafia or forensics, kids cartoons can be violent, even, frankly, the evening news shows violence. Violence isn't limited to television either. Murder Mystery books are prevalent too. Whether it is Patricia Cornwell, James Patterson, Faye Kellerman, Sara Paretsky, there probably is seldom a time when a book about violence isn't on the New York Times Best Seller List. As of this week, GONE GIRL and BACKFIRE are two that are clearly crime/violence based.
Frankly, the concept of violence extends all the way down to children's clothes. In recent years a trend has emerged of the use of camouflage in boys and girls clothing. For girls, of course it has the ever-present pink added in, but for boys it is straight up camo, like what you see soldiers wearing. Really? People want to dress their infant, toddler, elementary school age boy as though he is a mini-soldier? Ben and I often discuss what it means to sign up for the military and we both agree that a major part of it is that you are signing up to agree to be okay with killing people. It might come as no surprise that I won't be buying any camo gear for either of my children.
How easy is it for someone to obtain a gun in our culture? Pretty freaking easy. Our second amendment give us the right to keep and bear arms and the supreme court has had several cases to debate whether this applies to individuals and many cases come out in favor of people being able to keep guns in their homes. The original intention, I believe, was to allow for militias and for communities to protect themselves. I'm pretty sure the makers of our constitution never fathomed an assault rifle or the number of bullets it could dispense in a matter of minutes.
That we can get an assault rifle to keep in our own homes seems just so unnecessary. To what end does an average individual need an assault rifle? While I would personally never own a gun, if you are a hunter you would have one or if you are a sportsman you would have one. But in neither case would an assault rifle be your weapon of choice. They are meant for nothing else than killing as many people in one fell swoop as possible. Its not like you are going to take an assault rifle out into the woods hoping to stumble upon a herd of deer and just fire away.
But, I bet we see images of assault rifles all over movies and television. We might even read about the carnage they create in a book or in a story covering unrest in any number of foreign countries. I would argue that the supreme court needs to re-enact the ban on assault rifles it over turned in the 90's. But I might also argue that we as a culture need to start speaking out against the violence that pervades our airways as a way to begin to curb the senseless violence that continues to occur in our society.
It is so terribly hard to make sense of such a senseless act, until you start to wonder how senseless it really is. When we live in a society that, for all intents and purposes, extols the virtues of violence, should we feel shocked when all that is offered as entertainment comes to life?
A line from an article on boston.com jumped out at me: "...maybe it’s worth having a discussion about an entertainment culture that excels at selling violent power fantasies to people who feel powerless." I don't think the violence is limited to power fantasies aimed at the powerless.
It is everywhere from the myriad police-based shows, shows about the mafia or forensics, kids cartoons can be violent, even, frankly, the evening news shows violence. Violence isn't limited to television either. Murder Mystery books are prevalent too. Whether it is Patricia Cornwell, James Patterson, Faye Kellerman, Sara Paretsky, there probably is seldom a time when a book about violence isn't on the New York Times Best Seller List. As of this week, GONE GIRL and BACKFIRE are two that are clearly crime/violence based.
Frankly, the concept of violence extends all the way down to children's clothes. In recent years a trend has emerged of the use of camouflage in boys and girls clothing. For girls, of course it has the ever-present pink added in, but for boys it is straight up camo, like what you see soldiers wearing. Really? People want to dress their infant, toddler, elementary school age boy as though he is a mini-soldier? Ben and I often discuss what it means to sign up for the military and we both agree that a major part of it is that you are signing up to agree to be okay with killing people. It might come as no surprise that I won't be buying any camo gear for either of my children.
How easy is it for someone to obtain a gun in our culture? Pretty freaking easy. Our second amendment give us the right to keep and bear arms and the supreme court has had several cases to debate whether this applies to individuals and many cases come out in favor of people being able to keep guns in their homes. The original intention, I believe, was to allow for militias and for communities to protect themselves. I'm pretty sure the makers of our constitution never fathomed an assault rifle or the number of bullets it could dispense in a matter of minutes.
That we can get an assault rifle to keep in our own homes seems just so unnecessary. To what end does an average individual need an assault rifle? While I would personally never own a gun, if you are a hunter you would have one or if you are a sportsman you would have one. But in neither case would an assault rifle be your weapon of choice. They are meant for nothing else than killing as many people in one fell swoop as possible. Its not like you are going to take an assault rifle out into the woods hoping to stumble upon a herd of deer and just fire away.
But, I bet we see images of assault rifles all over movies and television. We might even read about the carnage they create in a book or in a story covering unrest in any number of foreign countries. I would argue that the supreme court needs to re-enact the ban on assault rifles it over turned in the 90's. But I might also argue that we as a culture need to start speaking out against the violence that pervades our airways as a way to begin to curb the senseless violence that continues to occur in our society.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Do we need maternity leave?
Yesterday the interwebs were buzzing about the news of Marissa Mayer's Fortune Magazine interview in which she stated "My maternity leave will be a few weeks long and I'll work throughout it."
Mayer is the new CEO of Yahoo, no doubt a high pressure, high stakes job. She started yesterday at 28 weeks pregnant. In many ways it is progressive for a company to hire a leader who is expecting a child in just under 3 months. But is it really if the expectation is that she has to give birth and immediately return to work? Do women really still have to act like men to get the top jobs?
When I first read snippets of the article I snorted out loud to learn of her plan to just pop her kiddo out and go right back to work. Spoken like a first time mom who doesn't know what is coming. Maybe you'll be put on bed rest before giving birth. Who knows how long labor will last, how tired you'll be, whether you might hemmorage and be told to take two weeks and do nothing but feed the baby (I was). Maybe you'll have to have an emergency C-section. How will your body react to being up every two hours to feed said infant? What if the child has colic or other health issues? There are so many unknowns about labor and delivery and the first few months after that it seems incredibly short sighted to just blithely say, 'oh sure I'll go right back to work', when your company probably offers some kind of maternity leave and you earn enough to take a leave, even an unpaid one.
The cynical part of me guesses that she has a scheduled C-section set up and will immediately just bottle feed with formula for the sake of going back to work and employ any number of nannies to care for her newborn. How else can she accomplish such a feat without going down in flames when she sits down at her computer to send an email in her sleep deprived haze, unshowered, baby poop on her pants and milk leaking through her pajamas and puts together a completely incoherent message to her employees? I should say that I advocate women doing what's right for them on the breast-feeding front, and I know many who have had to bottle feed because nursing wasn't an option from a physical standpoint. But, not nursing because you are pressured to return to work is just wrong.
In the LA TIMES there was a story that quotes Lisa Stone the CEO of BlogHer as saying her phone lines lit up with people celebrating Mayer's hire and impending motherhood as a true sign that women have smashed the glass ceiling. I think there's a serious problem there. Women have gotten into the workplace and gained access to high level positions but they've had to do it by acting like they are men. Men take two weeks off (sometimes) when their child is born and go back to work. There seems to be no respect for the changes a woman's body undergoes to give birth and the need to heal from that to be healthy and happy. That healing takes time - the 6 weeks of healing your doctor tells you, you need is, from my experience and those I've talked to, really just the tip of the iceberg.
I firmly believe in women making the choice that works for them when it comes to working or not working after having children. I firmly believe that women are just as capable of holding high powered offices and succeeding just as much as a man can. But, I don't believe our workplace model has evolved to a point to allow women to succeed in doing that while actually acknowledging the demands of motherhood.
In the Atlantic Monthly recently there was an article written by a high powered mom of two tween/teenage kids who has decided to leave her high powered position because she realized you simply can't have it all. Something always has to give and usually it is on the family side. She's an older mom with older kids so she has some wisdom with which to look at things and she isn't talking about stepping out of the workplace just to have kids, but to be engaged with them throughout their lives. She discovered the neediness to survive passes when kids get older, but the neediness to thrive is still there.
I admit I was shocked to go back to work 3 months after having my first. I had assumed there was some rhyme of reason to why that was the allotted maternity leave - like, my child would be on some kind of sleep schedule that allowed me to sleep enough to be a functioning human being. Nope. She was up every 2-3 hours, nursing for an hour at a time and then going back down. I don't even want to calculate how little sleep that meant for me and I know I was not the best worker I could be in the first year of her life. I probably wasn't the best mom either, but on both fronts I gave it my best shot.
Now, that my second is due (ironically on the same day as Marissa Mayer and I'm also having a boy), I know I will not be able to take a full 3 month maternity leave. After my first I left the administrative, benefit providing side of my job to just teach part-time, 3 days a week as I believe in being home part-time to participate in the raising of my child. So, I enter into this birth gratefully covered by my husband's health insurance, but with no maternity leave. We have set money aside to allow me some time to stay home, but both of us know keeping as much money in the bank as possible is a good thing. So, I am constantly thinking about how long to take off and when to go back. I should teach 10 weeks of lessons (the fall semester starting, no less, when I am about 36 weeks along). If I did 3 before having the baby, could I do 3 after, starting say in late November? Can I handle that after just 6 or 7 weeks? I struggle to come up with a paradigm that feels right beyond, I want at least 3 months at home. Truth be told, I think women should be granted with pay and a right to return to their position without retribution, a year off after having a child. (My reasoning behind that is probably the topic for a whole 'nother post.)
So, when I read about Marissa Mayer, who probably has the option on paper to stay home for 3 months, or maybe to even have started her position 3 months after giving birth to her child, yet she's saying she doesn't need maternity leave, it irks me. I think it sends the wrong message to the world about what women have as rights in the workplace. It tells me that women haven't risen nearly so high as we like to think. It also tells me Marissa Mayer might be in for a rude awakening.
Mayer is the new CEO of Yahoo, no doubt a high pressure, high stakes job. She started yesterday at 28 weeks pregnant. In many ways it is progressive for a company to hire a leader who is expecting a child in just under 3 months. But is it really if the expectation is that she has to give birth and immediately return to work? Do women really still have to act like men to get the top jobs?
When I first read snippets of the article I snorted out loud to learn of her plan to just pop her kiddo out and go right back to work. Spoken like a first time mom who doesn't know what is coming. Maybe you'll be put on bed rest before giving birth. Who knows how long labor will last, how tired you'll be, whether you might hemmorage and be told to take two weeks and do nothing but feed the baby (I was). Maybe you'll have to have an emergency C-section. How will your body react to being up every two hours to feed said infant? What if the child has colic or other health issues? There are so many unknowns about labor and delivery and the first few months after that it seems incredibly short sighted to just blithely say, 'oh sure I'll go right back to work', when your company probably offers some kind of maternity leave and you earn enough to take a leave, even an unpaid one.
The cynical part of me guesses that she has a scheduled C-section set up and will immediately just bottle feed with formula for the sake of going back to work and employ any number of nannies to care for her newborn. How else can she accomplish such a feat without going down in flames when she sits down at her computer to send an email in her sleep deprived haze, unshowered, baby poop on her pants and milk leaking through her pajamas and puts together a completely incoherent message to her employees? I should say that I advocate women doing what's right for them on the breast-feeding front, and I know many who have had to bottle feed because nursing wasn't an option from a physical standpoint. But, not nursing because you are pressured to return to work is just wrong.
In the LA TIMES there was a story that quotes Lisa Stone the CEO of BlogHer as saying her phone lines lit up with people celebrating Mayer's hire and impending motherhood as a true sign that women have smashed the glass ceiling. I think there's a serious problem there. Women have gotten into the workplace and gained access to high level positions but they've had to do it by acting like they are men. Men take two weeks off (sometimes) when their child is born and go back to work. There seems to be no respect for the changes a woman's body undergoes to give birth and the need to heal from that to be healthy and happy. That healing takes time - the 6 weeks of healing your doctor tells you, you need is, from my experience and those I've talked to, really just the tip of the iceberg.
I firmly believe in women making the choice that works for them when it comes to working or not working after having children. I firmly believe that women are just as capable of holding high powered offices and succeeding just as much as a man can. But, I don't believe our workplace model has evolved to a point to allow women to succeed in doing that while actually acknowledging the demands of motherhood.
In the Atlantic Monthly recently there was an article written by a high powered mom of two tween/teenage kids who has decided to leave her high powered position because she realized you simply can't have it all. Something always has to give and usually it is on the family side. She's an older mom with older kids so she has some wisdom with which to look at things and she isn't talking about stepping out of the workplace just to have kids, but to be engaged with them throughout their lives. She discovered the neediness to survive passes when kids get older, but the neediness to thrive is still there.
I admit I was shocked to go back to work 3 months after having my first. I had assumed there was some rhyme of reason to why that was the allotted maternity leave - like, my child would be on some kind of sleep schedule that allowed me to sleep enough to be a functioning human being. Nope. She was up every 2-3 hours, nursing for an hour at a time and then going back down. I don't even want to calculate how little sleep that meant for me and I know I was not the best worker I could be in the first year of her life. I probably wasn't the best mom either, but on both fronts I gave it my best shot.
Now, that my second is due (ironically on the same day as Marissa Mayer and I'm also having a boy), I know I will not be able to take a full 3 month maternity leave. After my first I left the administrative, benefit providing side of my job to just teach part-time, 3 days a week as I believe in being home part-time to participate in the raising of my child. So, I enter into this birth gratefully covered by my husband's health insurance, but with no maternity leave. We have set money aside to allow me some time to stay home, but both of us know keeping as much money in the bank as possible is a good thing. So, I am constantly thinking about how long to take off and when to go back. I should teach 10 weeks of lessons (the fall semester starting, no less, when I am about 36 weeks along). If I did 3 before having the baby, could I do 3 after, starting say in late November? Can I handle that after just 6 or 7 weeks? I struggle to come up with a paradigm that feels right beyond, I want at least 3 months at home. Truth be told, I think women should be granted with pay and a right to return to their position without retribution, a year off after having a child. (My reasoning behind that is probably the topic for a whole 'nother post.)
So, when I read about Marissa Mayer, who probably has the option on paper to stay home for 3 months, or maybe to even have started her position 3 months after giving birth to her child, yet she's saying she doesn't need maternity leave, it irks me. I think it sends the wrong message to the world about what women have as rights in the workplace. It tells me that women haven't risen nearly so high as we like to think. It also tells me Marissa Mayer might be in for a rude awakening.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
With me its all or nothin'
Yesterday I had a small moment of epiphany: I realized that I am completely and utterly an all or nothing girl. That realization was quickly followed by the thought, "how well is that working for you?".
The truth is, it doesn't. At all. In fact, I would hazard a guess that choosing to be all or nothing makes me miserable at times. If I can't even compromise with myself, how well do I compromise with others?
Like, when I'm pregnant...clearly you can't live your life as you do when you are a non-pregnant person. But, for me, if I can't do things the way I normally do, I don't want to do them at all.
Exhibit A: Exercise: In my pre-child life I probably worked out 5 or 6 days a week and loved it. I felt good about myself and my body. Exercise helped me manage stress and unwind after a workday. Post-child and now in pregnancy number two, there is no way I have time to work out 5 or 6 times a week. So, what do I do? Embrace the times when I can work out? Nope. I tend to not do it. WTH? Why can't I just go when I can and accept that it won't be what it once was? While pregnant my body becomes slowly less and less able to do exercise in the way I am used to. So, now that walking makes my hips hurt, I have stopped doing even that. However, I know that leaves me feeling yucky mentally and physically and that walking a shorter distance is probably still possible. One mile instead of two, anyone?
Exhibit B: Singing: In my pre-child life I sang every day. I took lessons regularly, worked with a coach and performed several times a year. Post child, I can no longer sing every day, life just doesn't allow it. We moved and my teacher and coach are now too far away to realistically work with. Finances are different and it isn't possible to take lessons every week and work with a coach. So, have I embraced the time that I do have to sing? Nope. I've stopped doing it. I honestly can't see a way to make it work - in my mind if I can't function at the level I was, I'd rather not do it at all. Hmmm, then I spent a lot of time missing singing and wishing I had my old life back where I had time to do something I loved and was good at.
So, what gives. Why am I so all or nothing? I'd guess it is some form of perfectionism, though Lord knows in other parts of my life I am far from concerned with perfection. I can make a quilt and not worry if every line matches up perfectly. I can draw a picture and not worry about accurately depicting what I'm drawing. I can make dinner and fudge ingredients a bit if I don't have everything I need and still have faith it will taste just fine.
I guess the good news is I'm not an all around perfectionist. The bad news is I can't quite figure out how to be less-perfectionist in all parts of my life. Perhaps I need a mantra like 'some is better than none' and remind myself of that when I think about doing something but then stop because I don't know when I'll be able to do it again.
The truth is, it doesn't. At all. In fact, I would hazard a guess that choosing to be all or nothing makes me miserable at times. If I can't even compromise with myself, how well do I compromise with others?
Like, when I'm pregnant...clearly you can't live your life as you do when you are a non-pregnant person. But, for me, if I can't do things the way I normally do, I don't want to do them at all.
Exhibit A: Exercise: In my pre-child life I probably worked out 5 or 6 days a week and loved it. I felt good about myself and my body. Exercise helped me manage stress and unwind after a workday. Post-child and now in pregnancy number two, there is no way I have time to work out 5 or 6 times a week. So, what do I do? Embrace the times when I can work out? Nope. I tend to not do it. WTH? Why can't I just go when I can and accept that it won't be what it once was? While pregnant my body becomes slowly less and less able to do exercise in the way I am used to. So, now that walking makes my hips hurt, I have stopped doing even that. However, I know that leaves me feeling yucky mentally and physically and that walking a shorter distance is probably still possible. One mile instead of two, anyone?
Exhibit B: Singing: In my pre-child life I sang every day. I took lessons regularly, worked with a coach and performed several times a year. Post child, I can no longer sing every day, life just doesn't allow it. We moved and my teacher and coach are now too far away to realistically work with. Finances are different and it isn't possible to take lessons every week and work with a coach. So, have I embraced the time that I do have to sing? Nope. I've stopped doing it. I honestly can't see a way to make it work - in my mind if I can't function at the level I was, I'd rather not do it at all. Hmmm, then I spent a lot of time missing singing and wishing I had my old life back where I had time to do something I loved and was good at.
So, what gives. Why am I so all or nothing? I'd guess it is some form of perfectionism, though Lord knows in other parts of my life I am far from concerned with perfection. I can make a quilt and not worry if every line matches up perfectly. I can draw a picture and not worry about accurately depicting what I'm drawing. I can make dinner and fudge ingredients a bit if I don't have everything I need and still have faith it will taste just fine.
I guess the good news is I'm not an all around perfectionist. The bad news is I can't quite figure out how to be less-perfectionist in all parts of my life. Perhaps I need a mantra like 'some is better than none' and remind myself of that when I think about doing something but then stop because I don't know when I'll be able to do it again.
Friday, June 8, 2012
The good, the bad, the iPhone
My first iphone was my wedding present from my husband. We both joked about me having one because technology was just not my thing. I could do it, I just didn't really want to. However, within a week, I was iphone fluent, downloading apps, taking photos, texting and wanting to do more. It was a new me. But, was it an improved me? From the get go, I wasn't sure.
Fast forward to the birth of the child. We announced the birth via email and Facebook from the delivery room on my iphone. I nursed while reading NPR stories on my iphone. I took walks and snapped cute photos of her sleeping in her stroller on my iphone to email to the grandmothers and the husband.
In my professional life, I left my administrative job after having the Shorty and was just teaching. That meant I was in my basement room all day with no access to a computer, yet a need to check email when students cancelled, sometimes look things up on the internet to give them more information, have a calendar that was easily accessible and coordinated with my home computer and, frankly, a chance to read NPR stories or the Boston Globe when they ditched their lessons. For that, the iphone is perfect.
When it became clear last summer that my first iphone was dying. I felt very unsure about getting another. I was aware of how much less available I was to those I love because my hands were tied to the phone. I didn't and still don't like how available the iphone makes me: the ding of an incoming email makes me want to check it right away, something funny happens in our household and I want to post it to facebook, a cute moment occurs and I want to photograph it to keep it forever. If feel tired of parenting and being tuned in, I want to tune out by surfing Facebook, Pinterest, US Magazine, NPR, Boston.com or read my horoscope. At night, the Husband and I often sit on the couch using our iphones - he to play games and check sports scores, me to read Facebook - rather than actually talk to each other.
Ultimately, I was unsure enough about my unsureness and got another iphone. The sales people informed us that NO ONE was getting the unlimited data plan that we had and we wouldn't want to give that up. I'm still not sure what unlimited data means. I don't think a day has gone by that I haven't questioned that move. Then, my husband got one (switching from a blackberry). Our apps are different, but our use the same.
With a slightly older Shorty I put the PBS kids app on so as to have entertainment if needed in a pinch. We 'favorited' some sesame street clips for her to watch on you tube - surely 3 minutes at a time is not bad, right? I tried to keep it away when I was with her, but since it is my only phone, I found myself carrying it with me around the house and frequently pull it out to play. Now, the Shorty knows just how to get to you tube and watch those videos herself, her little fingers tapping and sliding. I'm fairly sure a few times she's ended up watching Al Jazeera propaganda and stumbling onto porn can't be far behind. She knows the PBS app and helps herself to watching shows. She opens the camera app and has taken photos and videos. She. Is. Two.
At night, my husband sits in her room for a few minutes after lights out, while she unwinds in her crib before falling asleep. At first, I found that endearing. Now, I know he usually sits there and plays video games (and sometimes falls asleep). How is that quality time? It is actually through observing his iphone use that I have come to question my own even more. On the mornings that I go out for a walk, or to run an errand I almost always come home to the two of them curled up on the couch watching videos on the iphone (this, after she has already seen her allotted hour of PBS in the morning). I hear her say to him, "stop playing with your phone daddy".
She can now get herself anywhere she wants to be, either by her own reach or by dragging a chair over and hoisting herself up. In other words, there isn't a place we can put our phones that she can't reach.
Just this morning I put the number lock on my phone so she can't just help herself. But, this is about more than just her finding my phone and using it. It is about desiring and needing to curb my own use. (I have been more mindful in the last year and work hard to keep the phone away when she is around). I still wonder about surrendering my iphone and going back to just a regular old non-smart phone. In some ways I need the technology, but in most ways I don't. There is no need to for me to be so available. I hold no delusions that I am that important. When I need it is when I am working and frankly, if I'm home with my kiddo for the purpose of being a present parent, I shouldn't be working.
Technology has facilitated things in my life, but I can't honestly say it has improved them. Maybe I'll try an experiment in the coming weeks of putting my iphone in my bag when I'm home, turning the email signal sound off and the ringer up and allow for a small amount of time each day to check email - when the child is not around, but not when I have the chance to have quality time with my spouse (allow me the delusion that this time exists). That way I can answer the phone if it rings, but can ignore the rest. We'll see.
Fast forward to the birth of the child. We announced the birth via email and Facebook from the delivery room on my iphone. I nursed while reading NPR stories on my iphone. I took walks and snapped cute photos of her sleeping in her stroller on my iphone to email to the grandmothers and the husband.
In my professional life, I left my administrative job after having the Shorty and was just teaching. That meant I was in my basement room all day with no access to a computer, yet a need to check email when students cancelled, sometimes look things up on the internet to give them more information, have a calendar that was easily accessible and coordinated with my home computer and, frankly, a chance to read NPR stories or the Boston Globe when they ditched their lessons. For that, the iphone is perfect.
When it became clear last summer that my first iphone was dying. I felt very unsure about getting another. I was aware of how much less available I was to those I love because my hands were tied to the phone. I didn't and still don't like how available the iphone makes me: the ding of an incoming email makes me want to check it right away, something funny happens in our household and I want to post it to facebook, a cute moment occurs and I want to photograph it to keep it forever. If feel tired of parenting and being tuned in, I want to tune out by surfing Facebook, Pinterest, US Magazine, NPR, Boston.com or read my horoscope. At night, the Husband and I often sit on the couch using our iphones - he to play games and check sports scores, me to read Facebook - rather than actually talk to each other.
Ultimately, I was unsure enough about my unsureness and got another iphone. The sales people informed us that NO ONE was getting the unlimited data plan that we had and we wouldn't want to give that up. I'm still not sure what unlimited data means. I don't think a day has gone by that I haven't questioned that move. Then, my husband got one (switching from a blackberry). Our apps are different, but our use the same.
With a slightly older Shorty I put the PBS kids app on so as to have entertainment if needed in a pinch. We 'favorited' some sesame street clips for her to watch on you tube - surely 3 minutes at a time is not bad, right? I tried to keep it away when I was with her, but since it is my only phone, I found myself carrying it with me around the house and frequently pull it out to play. Now, the Shorty knows just how to get to you tube and watch those videos herself, her little fingers tapping and sliding. I'm fairly sure a few times she's ended up watching Al Jazeera propaganda and stumbling onto porn can't be far behind. She knows the PBS app and helps herself to watching shows. She opens the camera app and has taken photos and videos. She. Is. Two.
At night, my husband sits in her room for a few minutes after lights out, while she unwinds in her crib before falling asleep. At first, I found that endearing. Now, I know he usually sits there and plays video games (and sometimes falls asleep). How is that quality time? It is actually through observing his iphone use that I have come to question my own even more. On the mornings that I go out for a walk, or to run an errand I almost always come home to the two of them curled up on the couch watching videos on the iphone (this, after she has already seen her allotted hour of PBS in the morning). I hear her say to him, "stop playing with your phone daddy".
She can now get herself anywhere she wants to be, either by her own reach or by dragging a chair over and hoisting herself up. In other words, there isn't a place we can put our phones that she can't reach.
Just this morning I put the number lock on my phone so she can't just help herself. But, this is about more than just her finding my phone and using it. It is about desiring and needing to curb my own use. (I have been more mindful in the last year and work hard to keep the phone away when she is around). I still wonder about surrendering my iphone and going back to just a regular old non-smart phone. In some ways I need the technology, but in most ways I don't. There is no need to for me to be so available. I hold no delusions that I am that important. When I need it is when I am working and frankly, if I'm home with my kiddo for the purpose of being a present parent, I shouldn't be working.
Technology has facilitated things in my life, but I can't honestly say it has improved them. Maybe I'll try an experiment in the coming weeks of putting my iphone in my bag when I'm home, turning the email signal sound off and the ringer up and allow for a small amount of time each day to check email - when the child is not around, but not when I have the chance to have quality time with my spouse (allow me the delusion that this time exists). That way I can answer the phone if it rings, but can ignore the rest. We'll see.
Saturday, June 2, 2012
More from the annals of modern medicine
Yesterday was my follow-up ultrasound. It was also my monthly check up with the midwives.
In the past three weeks I've worked hard to stay in a positive emotional place with the whole possibility of Trisomy 18. Intellectually I just knew the risk was so low that it was practically non-existent. BUT, I was also aware that emotionally I wasn't quite in the same place. When my mind started to wander to that place where it loves to churn and churn and churn, I tried to take a deep breath and shift my focus to imagining the cyst getting smaller until all that was left was just a healthy little baby brain.
Up first was a check in with the midwives. Part of what I love about them as opposed to an OB is that they really strive to just let you be pregnant (not that some OBs don't do that too, but the midwives are open about being less medical model than an OB). Don't get me wrong, were I someone who was high risk for things I would for sure make the choice to go with the medical care that would be best which would probably be an OB in a hospital setting. But, I'm not. I know things can go wrong fast in a delivery which is why I love this particular practice. They have multiple offices around Cambridge, but you deliver at Mt. Auburn where specialists are a page away if need be. But if you don't need them you can just labor on and pop your kiddo out on your own terms. This particular midwife is one of my favorite. Probably in her late 50's early 60's, three grown girls, no-nonsense, but also very warm. She was on duty right after I delivered Ella and is one of the highlights of that birthing experience for me.
As we chatted, I mentioned that I was going to the hospital after seeing her for this second ultrasound to check the growth of the baby. She sort of gave me a look and said, "there is no reason for you to have to go through another ultrasound". I explained my experience of the first one and how over the last three weeks I've come to realize that a lot of my issue was with the way in which the OB delivered the news and talked about it. Her response was that this was someone new(ish) and they are beginning to hear similar things from other patients - that he is a bit more 'medical model' than he professes. He laid out this whole plan to me that we'd check the baby's growth, then we could move on to an amnio and then decide to terminate if need be.
What Megan the midwife had to give me was a handout saying that this cyst in the brain was almost never an indicator for T18 (a handout created by an OB at Mass General). There was no need for him to lay out that plan as it just heightened my anxiety in a most unfounded way.
Once at the hospital, I saw the same ultrasound tech who was super nice (though she got the goop all over the waistband of my skirt....). It was a quicker survey than the first time and throughout the boy was kick, kick, kicking away. His kicks are strong enough now that you can really feel them on the outside and he kept kicking her the more she'd push on him to get a picture. (I was secretly cheering him on).
She left and we waited for the OB to come in and tell us what was up. It was a different OB this time. It was the guy I saw at the 13 week ultrasound whom I really, really liked. He walked through the door and said "I love everything I see on this ultrasound. The cyst has totally disappeared and the baby weighs about 15.5 ounces, right on track." He said "I'll be in touch with Megan to see if she wants to order another ultrasound to check growth". It wasn't lost on me that he thought a midwife had ordered this test, not his fellow OB.
I think Ben and I were both a bit incredulous. The OB last time had told us the cyst might go away but it wouldn't be gone by the time we came in for the ultrasound yesterday.
Alls well that ends well. I'm happy to just move on to the last half of this journey and let my little guy grow away (not incidentally, I was prepared to be fully pissed if I'd gained four pounds in the last month and the fetus hadn't grown at all). I'm sure he'll give me plenty to worry about once he's on the outside, but for now he can just keep on cookin' in there.
In the past three weeks I've worked hard to stay in a positive emotional place with the whole possibility of Trisomy 18. Intellectually I just knew the risk was so low that it was practically non-existent. BUT, I was also aware that emotionally I wasn't quite in the same place. When my mind started to wander to that place where it loves to churn and churn and churn, I tried to take a deep breath and shift my focus to imagining the cyst getting smaller until all that was left was just a healthy little baby brain.
Up first was a check in with the midwives. Part of what I love about them as opposed to an OB is that they really strive to just let you be pregnant (not that some OBs don't do that too, but the midwives are open about being less medical model than an OB). Don't get me wrong, were I someone who was high risk for things I would for sure make the choice to go with the medical care that would be best which would probably be an OB in a hospital setting. But, I'm not. I know things can go wrong fast in a delivery which is why I love this particular practice. They have multiple offices around Cambridge, but you deliver at Mt. Auburn where specialists are a page away if need be. But if you don't need them you can just labor on and pop your kiddo out on your own terms. This particular midwife is one of my favorite. Probably in her late 50's early 60's, three grown girls, no-nonsense, but also very warm. She was on duty right after I delivered Ella and is one of the highlights of that birthing experience for me.
As we chatted, I mentioned that I was going to the hospital after seeing her for this second ultrasound to check the growth of the baby. She sort of gave me a look and said, "there is no reason for you to have to go through another ultrasound". I explained my experience of the first one and how over the last three weeks I've come to realize that a lot of my issue was with the way in which the OB delivered the news and talked about it. Her response was that this was someone new(ish) and they are beginning to hear similar things from other patients - that he is a bit more 'medical model' than he professes. He laid out this whole plan to me that we'd check the baby's growth, then we could move on to an amnio and then decide to terminate if need be.
What Megan the midwife had to give me was a handout saying that this cyst in the brain was almost never an indicator for T18 (a handout created by an OB at Mass General). There was no need for him to lay out that plan as it just heightened my anxiety in a most unfounded way.
Once at the hospital, I saw the same ultrasound tech who was super nice (though she got the goop all over the waistband of my skirt....). It was a quicker survey than the first time and throughout the boy was kick, kick, kicking away. His kicks are strong enough now that you can really feel them on the outside and he kept kicking her the more she'd push on him to get a picture. (I was secretly cheering him on).
She left and we waited for the OB to come in and tell us what was up. It was a different OB this time. It was the guy I saw at the 13 week ultrasound whom I really, really liked. He walked through the door and said "I love everything I see on this ultrasound. The cyst has totally disappeared and the baby weighs about 15.5 ounces, right on track." He said "I'll be in touch with Megan to see if she wants to order another ultrasound to check growth". It wasn't lost on me that he thought a midwife had ordered this test, not his fellow OB.
I think Ben and I were both a bit incredulous. The OB last time had told us the cyst might go away but it wouldn't be gone by the time we came in for the ultrasound yesterday.
Alls well that ends well. I'm happy to just move on to the last half of this journey and let my little guy grow away (not incidentally, I was prepared to be fully pissed if I'd gained four pounds in the last month and the fetus hadn't grown at all). I'm sure he'll give me plenty to worry about once he's on the outside, but for now he can just keep on cookin' in there.
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