quick clicks

moms today articles

moms today q&a

message boards

research baby names

prepare a birth plan

content channels

ip channel rss feeds

read birth stories

read parenting stories

recommended books

e-newsletters

safety recalls

ip diaries

ip store

mom of the month

dad of the month

editor's letter

letters to the editor

Kate's Diary Entries Diary Navigation: Choose A Diary Entry -------------------- Latest Entry: 6/7/07 -------------------- 4/30/07 4/18/07 4/9/07 4/2/07 3/27/07 3/13/07 1/30/07 1/15/07 12/10/06 11/20/06 11/10/06 10/30/06 10/12/06 10/5/06 9/22/06 9/15/06 9/8/06 8/29/06 8/17/06 8/10/06 8/4/06 7/28/06 7/21/06 7/16/06 7/6/06 6/27/06 6/21/06 6/16/06 6/13/06 6/8/06 -------------------- Kate's Introduction

Why I am a freak of a mother....

March 13, 2007

NOTE: This entry is a month old - I've been having password problems and I haven't been able to post.  A new one is in the works right now.

I read.  A lot.  I read magazines, books, internet articles....  One thing I read recently was about how we've created a society of young children who have learned that all they need to do is pester, pester, ask, ask and they eventually get what they want from their parents.  My darling girl is certainly capable of the relentless ask.  John and I have quickly learned the best way to address this is to answer quickly and definitively, not undermine each other and not change our minds.  This strategy works pretty well and I feel like Ava has really minimized this behavior.

Wednesday night I was driving her home from daycare.  It had been a long work day for me, on my feet a lot, which were killing me (why do I still wear stupid shoes on days like these, I'm not sure?) and the baby was laying funny on something that was causing me to feel like there was a lightening bolt shooting down my right leg every time I moved.  John had to work late, I knew we were out of milk, had almost no cereal (a disaster in this house where all the children are cereal fiends) and a grocery store stop was in order. I was listening to a story on NPR, composing a grocery list in my head when Ava chirps that she'd like 'Old McDonalds' for dinner.  I casually say 'we'll see' which starts a barrage of asking, pestering, begging for 'Old McDonalds.'  She even starts singing the 'Old McDonald had a farm' song, substituting chicken nuggets and fries for the animals.  So I kind of snap – 'That's it Ava, we are NOT stopping at McDonalds.' Of course she bursts into tears.... 'but whhhyyyyyy?'

Here's the thing.  I had absolutely no desire to cook anything for dinner.  Ava probably only gets McDonalds once a month, if that.  John and I are big believers in cooking meals at home, which isn't to say we're the fast food police, just that we enjoy the process of cooking and sitting down to a nice meal together as a family.  Had I told Ava it was ok for us to stop at McDonalds I could have sent John to the grocery store on his way home.  But now I am stuck.  Because I don't want to give in to the pestering, whining and crying.  So we go to the grocery store and buy, you guessed it, frozen french fries and chicken nuggets, for dinner.  Ava was thrilled, my feet still hurt, but somehow I felt like I claimed the moral high ground.  Even though she had exactly the same meal she would have had if I would have just driven through McDonalds.  And I wonder why I am raising a stubborn child?  I obviously turned something into a battle of wills that didn't need to be at all. And over thought it to boot.

This week I also had one of those days where I sent Ava to school wishing I could pin a little sign to her shirt saying 'I picked out my own outfit.'  Most of the time I don't make a big production out of clothing for her – she really prefers to wear dresses and makes those choices with a great deal of care.  If she chooses the pink dress and the orange tights I try to steer her toward a 'matchier' choice.  But if she is insistent I let it go.  This week she picked out her heart leggings I bought at Target and frankly intended to use as back up clothes for day care with a yellow shirt with mittens on it.  There was just a lot going on.  I urged her to put on her jeans and her response was 'but I LOVE these pants.'  I let it go by, but I swear I cringed as she walked out the door with her dad that morning!

We are still very, very stalled on the bowel movement aspect of potty training, because of course I can't write an entry without talking about my daughter's poop.  I arrived at her day care this week and Ava came running up and told me she'd had an accident in her pants.  I was honestly very frustrated.  We moved to the day care bathroom to try to clean it up and the center director came in.  She started saying that in her 17 years of child care she'd never seen a child 'hold out' as long as Ava had.  That she was so smart, so verbal, so grown up for her age except for this one thing.  She was delivering this news cheerfully, with minimal judgment and interspersing with things like 'she'll get it' and so forth.  But I still took it as some kind of assault on my parenting.  I realize that was 100% about me and nothing to do with what she was saying to me.  She is kind, good at her job and very loving to my child.  We've tried everything to help Ava with this and she is just not budging.  In my quest for information I read 'expert' advice that said, basically, if you find yourself feeling frustrated or your child is frustrated it is time to back off.  So we're backing off. Daycare has only been interested in working together to be consistent in how we handle this between home and school...

I wrote last week about the New York Times Modern Love column about the struggle to let go and let your child be themselves.  Last week's Grey's Anatomy rocked me and has kept me thinking about this.  The scene where Meredith's mother is lucid and yelling at her about how 'ordinary' she's become broke my heart.  Because in a way I understand it.  Don't get me wrong, I felt like Meredith's mother was unspeakably cruel and the scene shed light on their tumultuous relationship.  But what I understood was this idea that you have a child and you think this child is the most remarkable creature ever born.  You dream these grand dreams for all their talent and possibility.  I really, really hope that as my daughter (and soon to be 2 ^nd daughter) ages that I am the mother that embraces their dreams, that celebrates their 'ordinariness' and doesn't apply so much pressure for achievement and extraordinary accomplishments.  But I would still really like my amazing daughter to connect to the idea of pooping in the potty.

Over the weekend I was doing some research online for a baby sling.  We had one with Ava, but it was kind of cheap and cheesy – we used it, but I think we would have used it more had we had a more functional sling.  We moved pretty quickly into the Baby Bjorn when she was big enough.  Anyway, Ava was 'helping' me look for slings (I think we landed on the Maya Sling – seems to be the consensus out there, but educate me if I'm wrong, I haven't ordered it yet) and decided that she needed to use her beloved 'two' (blanket) for a sling for her equally beloved Mousie.  So she's been mousie wearing for the past several days.  I'll try to attach a picture.  I just think it is hilarious.  The people at church loved it too.  In my quick online research I hadn't realized that the sling is another one of those parenting controversies.  You know – co-sleep or not, breast feed or not, work outside the home or not...  I didn't realize the sling was somehow tied to a parenting philosophy.  I just thought it was a more functional way to move around in the world with a little one than lugging the infant car seat.  Especially with an infant and an Ava. 

So, for the record – I intend to buy the sling and use it for this little one if it works for her.  I think it will be handy and comfortable for the baby.  I intend to breastfeed and would like to do so exclusively to the six month mark.  But, with Ava, she got some formula starting around 4 months when I couldn't pump enough to keep up.  Then we did a mix of formula and breast milk until she weaned around 9 ½ months.  I don't think formula is poison, I think it is food and I very much appreciated the advice our pediatrician who said that breastfeeding doesn't have to be an all or nothing proposition.  It is his advice that babies can get the benefits of breast milk from as little as four ounces a day. That freed me to nurse Ava a whole lot longer than I probably would have otherwise.  As for the co-sleeping discussion.  It doesn't work for our family.  The handful of times we did some co-sleeping with Ava when she was an infant terrified me and I was up all night.  Every snarful or movement she made I was tuned into.  It was much more restful for everyone for me to get up, feed her in her nursery with some soft music and return to bed to fall asleep.  Ditto for John when he did the bottles.  Now that she is bigger she is very difficult to sleep with – all arms and legs and elbows.  BUT I have close friends who continue to co-sleep with their nearly 3 year old and it works for them.  And I have no judgment on that one.  Oh, and I'm going back to work for reasons previously covered. 

Progress is underway in getting the room ready for the baby and has also morphed into some changes in Ava's room.  The new carpeting for both the girls room is being put down today!  The painters are coming Tuesday to paint, again both girls rooms.  Ava is very excited about her 'new room' and I think this makes her feel more included in the process of preparing for the baby's arrival.  It is nice for her to get some new things because goodness knows the baby will be getting a lot of attention and presents in the weeks/months to come.  We still have so much to do but now that things are moving forward I am feeling a teeeney, tiny bit less anxious about it.

I've started feeling Swabie move around much more definitively, stronger and at times visibly.  While I've been feeling her move for a long time, those movements were more flutters, brushes, bubbles.  We're now in the jabs, pokes, flips and rolls phase of her gestation and it is pretty darn cool.  At my OB appointment Monday she was laying sideways with her little bottom on my left side.  I have no idea if she has changed position since then.  It seems like Ava was already head down at this point, but the OB didn't seem at all concerned about it, so I could be remembering wrong.  I know I should be thanking my lucky stars that this pregnancy has been relatively uneventful and generally healthy for me and Swabie, but I am kind of tired of all the OB visits.  Mostly because when I go to the appointments there just doesn't seem a real purpose.  I know, I know, it's the cumulative aspect.  But you go in, get weighed, pee in a cup, hear the heartbeat, get measured and you're out. 

One thing I've heard people talk about with having a second child is the concern about how could you love a second baby as much as the first?  And I will admit that when I first learned about this pregnancy, it happened so quickly, I was had those feelings of panic.  As the pregnancy has progressed I have become less and less worried about that all the time.  One thing I was worried about is somehow favoring Ava.  I just think she is such an unbelievable child and I am so proud to be her mom.  I love her to the point of bursting.  She made me a mother, we've had all this time together, just us, before Swabie was even a concept.  But this baby, she's our bonus, our surprise.  She's Ava's sister and my opportunity to do this all over again.  Something I really didn't think I'd be able to do.  The perspective of knowing all the wonder that is in store for us has added a richness to this process that I didn't get to have when I was pregnant with Ava.  It was so much more abstract.  So I want this baby to be full term, but I am getting very excited to meet her, hold her, see what she looks like and discover her unique little personality.

But I will confess to having days where I just feel overwhelmed by it all.  John is very busy with a lengthy trial and all the preparations that go into that, so I've been flying solo at home for the most part.  It is really hard to keep everything together, keep everyone fed, the house somewhat in order, make the arrangements for baby preparations, work full time, parent my daughter and be 7 months pregnant.  I worry about the fact that – if carrying this baby seems to be pooping me out what in the heck is it going to be like when she's actually here???

Thanks for reading—

--Kate