It is worth it

As I wrap-up almost eight years of stay-at-home motherhood, all of which have included paying Ivy League graduate school loans, this thought motivated me particularly this past week.   

"Perhaps the most meaningful way in which stay-at-home moms use their elite degrees is by raising their children to be well-educated, confident leaders of the next generation. When a mother with an Ivy League education stays home to raise children, she is making it her full-time job to invest the best that she has received, including her education, into these children. She is choosing to form a few people in a profound way, rather than to affect a broader audience with a smaller per-person investment.........when a highly educated woman is home with her children day in and day out, she weaves the riches of her education into their lives in continuous, subtle, living ways. This is a priceless preparation for a lifetime of learning. This gift is the transmission of culture."    -Anne-Marie Maginnis (verilymag.com)

Absolutely.

Good, Better, and Best

I'm not certain if all mothers analyze, question, re-evaluate, plan, doubt, and wonder as much as I do, but I would guess they do.  I think it's in the female nature to reflect.  This is very powerful, as long as energetic and hopeful resolve comes from the reflecting.

Time is tricky, not just in parenting, but in life in general.  It seems though, the more peoples needs and to-do lists you are balancing, the more complicated it can be to get it all in.  Setting priorities is paramount in parenting.  I particularly appreciate Dallin Oaks idea of "good, better, best" because those are often the choices we are weighing as a mother, when we think about how to structure and make use of our time.

One example of this that has cropped up in the last year and a half is whether or not you will ride the bus or do carpool.  We are fortunate to have that option in our school district, even though you and your brother attend a magnet school far from our home.  The bus is convenient in that it picks you up two blocks from our home and is free of immediate cost.  However, riding the bus means that I see you for two hours less each school day.  We can leave a half-hour later in the morning when I drive you, and we arrive home a half-hour earlier, and added to the half-hour in the car each way, that's a lot of time I'm getting back with you by driving you to and from school.  Most people think this is crazy, but it really has become a "best" for me as a mother.  I don't like the last-minute crazy, grouchy "get in the car we're going to be late for the bus" conversation to be the last thing I say to you every morning.   I rather have the half-hour AFTER that conversation occurred getting you into the car, to unwind, relax, and just be together before school.  I'm willing to spend the money in gas, and the time driving to get that.  Ultimately for me, as I've spent LOTS of time weighing the pros and cons since Adley started school 1.5 years ago, doubting on those days that Ezra screamed the entire way too and from as a new baby.  But as time has gone on, it has really come down to me being happier and more content when we have that time together in the car and at home, instead of getting you to the bus stop earlier and spending the time waiting there, and feeling more rushed than we already do when we get home.  

We have come to enjoy listening to books on tape together in the car.  It's been fun to experience them together.  You and your brother often beg, "don't listen to it while we're at school!!!"  Of course, I wouldn't.  We have laughed and felt sad at the ups and downs of the entire American Girl book series, The Island of the Blue Dolphins, and The Trumpet of the Swan, this year.  It's a memory I will treasure.    Of course, we also experience Sam and Ezra's tantrums, screaming, and playing way too loudly while I'm driving, and the threats to Sam of punishment if he screams on the top of his lungs one more time while I'm driving, but this is decreasing as they get older, and Sam is starting to remember and appreciate the stories more and more.

Of course, other moms in the same situation weigh the same choice and come out with a different conclusion, that is what makes things complicated.  Mothering and parenthood are very personal, and judging another mom because of this is naive and time-wasting.  Overall, Anneke Pearl, when you listen to your gut and feel that you enjoy doing something with your kids, or feel like something works better for your family, DO IT, even if it may seem logically unreasonable or crazy.  You will be happier as a mother because of it.     

Babywise, Ben Franklin, and Becoming a Sleep-Nazi

Sleep is one of a new mother's top concerns/priorities/obsessions. For me it was/is very important to have a plan based on your priorities. Few kids are born putting themselves to sleep for 12 hours a night. If this is your desired outcome, you need a plan, and a determination to work hard for the result.

When I was pregnant a friend suggested the book "Babywise" to me, saying it was amazing and helped you teach your kid to "sleep through the night" by 8 weeks. That sounded great to me, I liked to sleep at night, and I liked having my own time in the evening, and I liked having a deadline ("in 8 weeks I will be sleeping again"), so it sounded like a plan. I read the book, which has a premise that babies tend to fall asleep easily, and need food in their bellies to stay asleep and that they need to learn to put themselves to sleep by themselves. The Babywise plan is to start a regular cycle of feeding the baby (doing whatever you can to keep him awake for a "full" feeding) then let them play, then have them sleep. There is a lot of emphasis on keeping them awake to get that full feeding so they will make it through a 3 hour stretch (and longer as they get older) before the next feeding. When Adley was born we tried implementing this, but as I mentioned in an earlier post, the expected "sleepiness" that the Babywise authors talk about, was not happening in my baby. He would NEVER sleep, so it was very frustrating. When, as I mentioned in the "colic" post, we read the "Healthy Sleep Habits, Healthy Baby" book, we were relieved to find a lot better understanding of the child we were dealing with. Dr. Weissbluth focuses a lot more on watching for the babies natural "sleep windows" and "sleep clues," setting up a consistent routine (which Babywise also does), but really doesn't focus on the relationship with food at all. "Healthy Sleep Habits" worked for us, "Babywise" did not.

The first three kids were sleeping 12 hours a night by 12 weeks (Ezra was not which I'll explain later). We liked Dr. Weissbluth's method so much we just continued to use it with the rest of our kids and it worked for us. I have lots of friends who have used Babywise with great success, so I don't think the method really matters, just your goal and the outcome, which, for us, was evening freetime without kids, and kids who slept all night (10-12 hours).

As we have had more children we've learned that sleep becomes more complicated. Statistically the chances of having one sick child multiplies with more children, and spreads, which turns the "once in a while sleep problems caused by sickness" to occur a lot more often. Sharing bedrooms also creates a whole new element. We fortunately have 3 bedrooms and a playroom that we use as the rotating room for the kid who needs a good night sleep while their sleepmate is working through a stage or overcoming an illness. However, sleep is always an issue. 

When Ezra was born, he was our first non-colicky baby. Wow! That was a huge blessing! He was a complete charmer and we were enamored with a baby who actually stopped crying when you picked them up- astonishing! This, combined with 3 other little ones that he could potentially wake-up, made sleep-training a whole new ballgame. We finally had him sleeping all 12 hours by 6 months when he got RSV, and then pneumonia. This turned in to a three-month nightmare, ruining his hard-earned sleep patterns, and having to re-train afterwards. By 9 months he was consistently sleeping 12 hours again and your dad and I thought we were going to die from sleep-deprivation.

Which leads me to this. I have plenty of friends who don't do any sleep-training at all. It seems that their babies don't sleep through the night until sometime between their first and second birthdays. Also, it seems that their kids are up a lot later, they get to spend more time with them in the late evening. Some friends have kids that come into their beds at night regularly and join them for part of the night. All of this seems to work for them. If this is what works for you, that's fine. There is a lot of research on kids not taught to put themselves to sleep at a young age correlating with having a later bedtime and getting less sleep overall which in turn effects their academic performance, but that was never a true motivator for me. For all the myriad biographies I have read, how a kid learned to sleep, and how much he/she slept, was ABSOLUTELY NOT a determining factor in their later life success. (Frankly, some of the most impressive people slept the least). As you know, I have a Benjamin Franklinesque philosophy on sleep ("there will be sleeping enough in the grave") So, when I talk about sleep-training, my motivation is not so you all would become super smarty-pants. I'm really talking about you and your husband's personal sanity. As you also know, your dad and I enjoy having our own individual time. I'm sure this can occur simultaneously with awake children once you are all older, but currently that is impossible. We get more impatient and become worse parents the longer you kids stay up, or the more frequently in the night you wake up. Having you all in your beds asleep by 7:30/8, gives us 3-4 precious hours to connect, get things done, and relax. That being said, we have noticed a huge difference in each of your temperaments when you are getting less sleep. There is always more whining, breakdowns, crying, drama when you haven't been getting to bed on time. When this corresponds to impatient parents, it is never a good thing. This has seemed to decrease as you get older, which gives me hopes for the teenage years. So, yes, as friends have labeled me when they learn that shockingly my kids start heading for bed at 6:30 and actually stay in their beds, I am the "sleep-nazi," and you may find that you become one too.

Frustration, Stubbornness, Anger and the Terrible Twos

We are currently in the throes of two-year-old intensity with your little brother Sam. Man, he is a tough kid. This is an area of parenting that I am certain mother's block out, almost completely, and no wonder. It is so high-stress and frustrating it's better not to remember. I feel that with each child I conclude that THIS child is the MOST frustrating, until, like an amnesia victim regaining their memory, I have a flashback of a moment, and remember that you all went through this stage, and although you each manifested it differently, the stage ended and all was well.

 The pattern for our family so far has been this: it begins anywhere from age 1 to age 3 and runs it's course for about 2 years. It has manifested itself in a unique way with each child, depending on their personality. For some reason there seems to be this two-year lifespan to the "terrible twos," although in my current research I have found some sources listing it as lasting one year instead of two. (I like comfort myself in this by telling myself that you kids are particularly strong-willed- you are my children after all :).

 Adley began his "terrible twos" stage, which, in him, was manifest as his "frustration stage," around age 15 months. I was very pregnant with you, which may have spurred it on. He naturally had, and still has a very low frustration level mixed with a very particular idea of what he wants to see/do/hear, etc. As a typical first-born, you could call it "perfectionist tendencies." I think his lack of ability to carry out his lofty desires, aggravated by an impending necessity to share his mom with a new baby was the immediate trigger of his episodes. His tantrums were very intense, sometimes going on for over an hour screaming and flailing in his room (where I put him to work it out). Often if I held him close (he would physically fight this for a long time) he would eventually collapse and appreciate the security of being held. Right after his 3rd birthday, like clockwork, the episodes subsided dramatically, and by age 4, he was overall an easy, pleasant kid. Of course, the easily frustrated, perfectionist nature is still there, he has just learned to cope better.

You, on the other hand, were a completely easy-going, adorable baby and toddler, but a little before your third birthday your "stubborn stage" hit. The triggers were probably, once again, the arrival of a new baby (Sam), and potty-training. It was actually in the potty training experience that we saw a lot of this "stubborn stage" begin to manifest. We learned that you internally stressed about expectations a lot more than it seemed. We always felt like you were so easy-going, but learned that you kept your feelings of stress hidden. We also learned that you were a pretty stubborn girl and liked to have control over your life (I mean you ARE a woman :). Potty training was difficult, and we eventually let off and let you do it when you were ready because it became such a power struggle. You wanted to wear what you wanted, started having many "dramatic" episodes involving running upstairs to your room and slamming the door. You would burst into tears at random times and dig your heels in on various things all day long. Of course, during this time, I had Sam, became pregnant with Ezra, and then you had two babies who you loved to dote on, but were also making it difficult for me to carry and hold you like you wished. You were, and still are, a very affectionate person and wanted me to carry you a lot of the day. With my back problems and pregnancies this was difficult, and very frustrating to you. Around age 4 1/2, or shortly after Ezra was born, your "stubborn episodes" started to decrease, and by age 5 you were a helpful, happy, sweet, rational girl, who still has a lot of stubbornness, but has learned to channel it and be more reasonable.

Now back to realtime, Sam. We'll call this his "angry stage," because that is how his "terrible twos" have been and continue to be manifest.  His "switch" started around the 15 month mark, just like Adley's. I'm sure having a baby brother born at just that time was a huge trigger (I see a pattern here :). Sam has been a particularly intense kid from the get-go, but around 15 months his episodes of anger have increased and intensified. They began to subside a little this fall, but have cropped up again the last few weeks with greater intensity. Another trigger for Sam is his eczema, which flares up particularly in the early summer and early winter, I guess with the most extreme temperatures. We are hoping to get this under control and see a gradual diminishing of the unreasonable craziness by springtime, shortly after his third birthday.

At least this is what I hope. The thing is, even when you have gone through it before, there is a part of you that is a little nervous, thinking, "wow, maybe this time I HAVE actually produced the spawn of Satan," or "maybe I will have a child that chucks chairs and hits me and screams and takes things and pushes and hits and cries incessantly when they are 18." It's a scary thought. But, in my rational moments I remind myself that I thought this before, and I was wrong. Once again, the wisdom of the ages held true, it really was "just a stage." So, with that in mind, do what you can to survive. I try and read a million parenting books and stay as calm, consistent, and rational in the face of two-year-old craziness as much as possible (the key word is "try"). I put both Adley and Sam in preschool at 2 to give me a tantrum break two mornings a week. I know this isn't always doable for everyone, but getting a break from your difficult young child from time to time is a priority, and helps you be a better mother when you are with them. Whether it's switching with another mother, asking family to help out, or preschool, it's worth the effort. Be kind to yourself during this time as well, dealing with a toddler is exhausting and can really make you feel like a failure. TRY and remember that it is just a stage and any angry words/violence toward you from this age group is NOT how they really feel, don't take it personal. You have the toughest job on the planet, but are the only one that can do it right, and you will!

Breastfeeding, Colic, and Surviving the First Few Months

One of the first challenges I faced as a new mother was breastfeeding. Of course I knew it would be painful, I'd read "What to Expect When you are Expecting" and various other books, but I wasn't prepared for how painful, particularly the first several weeks. Every time the baby latches on you feel like you want to scream from pain, I had to take deep calming breathes just to endure (thank goodness for the Lamaze classes that never worked for me). I didn't know that part of your nipple could literally be sucked off and bleed. I saw a lactation consultant in the hospital who helped, a little, but between Adley having a hard time latching on, my low first-time-mother milk supply, and my own inexperience, it was rough.

 A week after Adley was born we arrived in beautiful South Pasadena, I was painfully trying to nurse Adley every three hours only to have him start crying and screaming after about 5 minutes. Of course I had read all the information about how "breast is best" and had been indoctrinated into the idea that formula was some kind of poison wussy moms feed their babies, so "e.b.f." or exclusively breast-feeding was what I was determined to do. Three days after arriving in our beautiful new city, dad left for work and I was alone with the baby. He cried ALL DAY LONG! I couldn't console him, I walked with him in the Bjorn, bounced, tried feeding him, only to have him start screaming after about 5 minutes, finally, after hours of work he would nod off for a moment only to wake suddenly if I tried to put him down or lay down beside him. The same thing continued throughout the night. I was a wreck, it went on for a week or two and I thought I was living in hell. Because your dad had started a new job, we had to wait until our new insurance kicked in order to see the pediatrician, in the interim, I googled everything I could to try and figure out what was wrong with me and my kid. After a week or so, I called Gram in a panic, crying I'm sure, telling her that I was suppose to be finishing my Master's thesis and I couldn't even make it to the bathroom, let alone think! I begged her to drive down from the Bay area and help me out, she agreed, because your Gram, as you know, is a Saint!

 In the bleary days before she arrived, I was blessed with the tender mercy of another divine intervention. Aunt Pargie's sister Sarah, who lived in the same town, had kindly arranged for people from church to bring us meals for a couple of weeks because of the new baby. On one particularly harrowing day, after a couple of sleepless, miserable weeks, a bubbly, friendly, lady named Rachel showed up at the door with dinner. After apologizing for some mishap in the cooking of the meal she must have noticed my fake smile and felt impressed to ask how things were going. Her voice was filled with pure openness and understanding, and I completely melted my facade and started crying, "He won't sleep.....At ALL!!" I was in tears and only semi-cared whether or not she thought I was a pyscho or not. She immediately came in and told me her oldest daughter had been "colicky" and she knew just what to do. (I didn't realize there was a name for it). She told me to go get the book "Healthy Sleep Habits, Healthy Child" by Marc Weissbluth, read it and follow it. After another couple of tips I'm sure I later mastered, but have forgotten since, I thanked her profusely, and sent her off. What a tender mercy and reminder that God was aware of me, all alone in a new town, with a screaming baby, and now I had the hope that this problem could be solved! As soon as your dad got home from work we headed to Barnes and Noble and bought the book, I read furiously while he manned the baby. It gave us hope and would shape our lives as parents.

 The next week we were finally able to go to the doctor. Adley was still crying incessantly (we learned from Dr. Weissbluth that colic doesn't start to improve until about 6-7 weeks, so we were feeling a little better having the hope of a timeline), but with our new knowledge we weren't as concerned about what was ailing him. That all changed with his one month check-up. We learned that he had barely regained his birthweight and the pediatrician was concerned I probably had a very low milk supply and needed to start supplementing immediately. I was aghast. I felt terrible, I had been starving my child! I felt inadequate and guilty. I also felt very apprehensive about giving him formula (the La Leche League and "breast is best" campaign were very dogmatic and forceful in California and the country as a whole at this time. As everything does, the pendulum has started to swing back, and I'm sure it will go the other way before it comes back again). My doctor, a women, was great, she told me the entire Baby Boomer generation barely had any breast milk and they turned out ok, and that she hadn't had a drop and has done pretty well for herself. I knew rationally she was right. But emotionally it was tough. As I analyzed my feelings in the coming months and years, I honestly got really angry about it. I don't like extremes by nature, and there is no place for it in motherhood, particularly the parenting community. I resented the fact that I was feeling guilty for feeding my child food that had been tested, and retested and proven to be healthy food for babies.

 For the next 5 months I would feed Adley on each side until he started screaming, then give him a bottle of formula. I would never do it in public, there was too much screaming and moving around, drama, then mixing the bottle, etc. I also felt very self-conscious in the early months to give him a bottle in public, like people were looking at me and wondering why I wasn't "e.b.f." I shouldn't have cared, but I did, part of the inexperience of being a first time mom, you don't have wisdom of being convicted enough in your parenting practices to not care what others think yet. It was exhausting, but he was my only kid, and we weren't getting out much anyway.

 Adley thrived with the supplementing. By his 3 month check-up he was up to the 90th+ percentile for height and weight where he stayed until around age 4 when he started to thin out. Around 6 months when I was taking about 20 minutes to breastfeed and then giving him a 6 ounce bottle I decided it was time to quit, he was barely getting anything anyway and the most crucial period was up. When you were born I was very paranoid that the same thing would happen to you, we introduced a bottle early, which turned into 1/day, and you easily adapted into both breastfeeding and having your bottle a day, which gave me more sleep in the first few months when dad gave it to you at night, and transitioned into allowed us to be more on the go when you were sleeping through the night and I could use that bottle during the day when we were out. It was a good balance, you were the cutest fattest baby ever and I was so relieved.

 Of course, than baby #3 came along and couldn't figure out how to latch. After having no luck after several requests in the hospital for a lactation consultant's help, we were discharged and I went home to figure it out. With your third child everyone expects you to have it all figured out and you have no extra time at all to do so. I ended up sending dad out to buy a nice breast pump in hopes of getting my milk supply up (he was screaming again after every latch attempt, and then continuing to scream most of the night). By the end of the first month or 6 weeks with no latching luck, I ended up just pumping and feeding him the bottle (you and Adley loved helping with this as well). It turned out that my milk supply was fine, Sam just wasn't patient enough to figure out the latch (some character traits never change :). This lasted three months until I was completely running ragged trying to pump and feed around the clock, we then switched to straight formula. Receiving the least amount of breast milk of all you kids, Sam was the most advanced by age two as far as verbal/gross motor skills, knew all letters and sounds, etc. A coincidence I'm sure, but just to put your mind at ease that if breastfeeding doesn't work, your kids will be just fine and thrive with formula.

you are 7 months old

 Motherhood and parenting is all about balance, when you get out of whack, or you find yourself obsessing about a particular thing, take a step back and reevaluate. For the most part, there isn't any one thing that is worth wrecking your mental and emotional state over.

From the Beginning: a Baby is Coming

5 months pregnant with #1, Manhattan circa 2005 

 Anneke, I hope the moment you first discover that you are expecting a child will be full of joy, excitement, anticipation, and happiness. If it is not, that is alright too. One's first reaction to such a life-changing event doesn't necessarily determine the later reactions and actions. I didn't understand that, and when I learned I was pregnant, I was anxious, panicked, and a little depressed. Fortunately, your dad was completely exhilarated, and helped me ride out my dismay. We were living in New York City, and I was 26 years old, way too young to have a baby by Manhattan standards. This made me very self-conscious, and I kept the pregnancy a secret for a long time. I tried to hide it the first 5 months. It was winter in New York which made this fairly easy. Fortunately for me, not only did I have a very ecstatic husband, but a great group of friends, a few who I shared the news with. It was around the 5 month mark when my dear, wise friend Sahba, who I'm sure was so tired of hearing me complain about something that should be received as such a blessing, reminded me a little seriously, perhaps even sternly, with a very loving undercurrent, "Do you even know how lucky this baby is? There are so many children who come into this world into terrible conditions. This baby has you and Curteis, two people who love each other deeply as parents. Parents that will love this child, parents who are educated and will educate him. This baby is so lucky to be coming to you and Curteis." Her words knocked the anxious, doubtful wind out of me. It was as if God was talking through Sabha, filling my soul with peace, gratitude, and calm. From that point on, I never looked back, I was going to be a mother and it was going to be just fine! At least that is what I began hoping for. What a blessing honest courageous friends are! I imagine Ani, with your naturally nurturing personality (which I lacked), and your father's ability to "go with the flow," you probably won't experience the feelings I had, but if you do, know that you aren't alone.

Parenting with Pearl

A little over seven years ago, my first child was born. It rocked my world. He was a surprise. We were living in New York City, I was in graduate school and my husband was doing temporary work at law firms to help put me through school. Our life plans were altered a bit, as they often are with children, and 9 months later, one week after my son was born, we arrived in Los Angeles for my husband to start his new job, and for me to begin my career as a mother (while trying to finish up my Masters thesis). I learned quickly that motherhood is NOT what you think it's going to be. I learned quickly that my own mother had forgotten A LOT, and I learned that the internet is a fabulous support group/advice line/reference book. There were so many things I hadn't planned for; colic, breast-feeding struggles, how obsessed with sleep I would become, and I honestly felt betrayed by womankind as all the mothers I watched and knew seemed to be effortlessly walking through life, kids hanging off them, clothes and gear all in order, like it was easy. I came to the conclusion that either I was completely incompetent, or these women were faking it! My father instilled in me too healthy a self-esteem for me to believe I was the one at fault, which swayed me to believe the later. (I've since learned it's a lot more complicated than that). Because of this, it became my personal quest to try and "be real" and remember what parenting and motherhood was like, particularly those early years. Eighteen months later my daughter came along, and all of the sudden, my quest to remember became more urgent. Here was someone who would surely hold me accountable to remember and advise in the realm of parenting and motherhood. But, alas, life passes far to quickly, and two more little boys later, I've decided it's finally time to start recording my own journey in motherhood and parenting for my daughter, Anneke Pearl. My hope is that by recording and remembering in the moment, the experience will be more accurate and pertinent to her, while details, that seem silly in the end but make all the difference in the present, are still fresh and authentic. My record is for my daughter, and therefore, I hope it will be very candid and direct, as advice from an elder family member to a younger should be. You are welcome to come along for the ride as an observer, and perhaps learn or take away something from it. At the least, for fellow mothers and parents, hopefully you feel understood, supported, or more determined to flourish in the challenging realm of parenting. Consider this your opportunity to be a fly on a wall in a busy and active home with four young children and two fairly impatient, determined, and hopelessly flawed parents trying hard to "keep it real" while keeping expectations high, and everybody smiling!