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Home > Blogs > Adventures in Motherhood > Archives > 2009 > March
March 2009
Motherhood: Biting Tongue aids hard lessons
When people find out you are expecting — typically baby No. 1 — the response is excitement followed by, “Your life is going to change.”
Then they proceed with the long list of items you will have to learn to deal with: midnight feedings, diaper blow-outs, runs to the pediatrician, temper tantrums. I vowed, despite how correct these statements are, I would not be a person who says this.
I have yet to find out from my brother if I succeeded at this while his wife was pregnant with their first baby. Probably not.
I am far from an expert at mothering. I learned the same way with my first child as all first time mothers do — by going through it.
My cousin Amanda, who might as well be my sister, as even in our 30s we still have sibling-like cat fights, is pregnant with her first child.
Suffering with the agony of morning sickness, she called me recently bawling. “Are you OK?” I asked. “Nnnnooo,” she sobbed. “I am so sick.” I think my oh-so-sensitive reply was, “Get used to it.”
This child I myself am carrying has apparently sucked away not only my brain but any empathy I may have normally felt. “I mean, uh … didn’t your doctor tell you that was a ‘good thing’?” I asked. “Yyeahh,” she said. “It will get better. It’s all worth it,” I said coming to my senses. Nice recovery. Maybe she didn’t notice.
Actually, I couldn’t be happier for her and her husband. Amanda, who is Miss Career Woman, is experiencing what I consider to be “normal” mother-to-be anxieties: concern for her job; worry that she is being judged as irresponsible and pressure to “get things in order” for her maternity leave.
How do you gently say, while you are rushing home yourself because Grandma called and your son has a burning-hot fever, “You can’t worry about that. Your priorities are going to drastically shift.”
Priority shift is something I knew was coming, but didn’t understand until it happened. I gave up a full-time manager position to take a part-time coordinator position because it was best for my sons and myself.
People, including my husband, were stunned at my change in priorities.
Parenting is trial-by-error, baptism by fire and the greatest adventure I’ve been on. I am thrilled to welcome Amanda on board for the ride — and will do my best to keep my mouth shut.
How did you prepare for the changes that come with parenting? What advice do you offer moms-to-be?
Contact this reporter at (937) 328-0356 or dmjordan@coxohio.com.
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Make shopping with a child less of a chore
As anyone who has ever gone grocery shopping with a toddler knows, it usually takes double the time than going alone. And just try to imagine how interminable the trip feels to the tot!
I read a recent article in Toddler magazine that handles the topic of a child’s perception of time quite well:
Toddlers have a very limited sense of time, so they’re able to live in the moment and fully experience the present — better than many adults. This is good because when engaged in enjoyable activity, a toddler will be completely absorbed in it, unaware of time passing.
The downside is when a toddler is unhappy in a situation, like having to sit in a cart as you shop, feeling like it will never end.
The writer suggests using events to anchor the passing of time, not hours or days. Refer to specific events that she understands to help her order her day. “We’ll go to the park after quiet time and lunch,” rather than “We’ll go to the park in two hours.” Or, “We can leave the market after we get bread, milk and yogurt,” instead of “We’ll be done shopping in 10 minutes.”
Although I often employ this tactic with my 3-year-old, we still have some work to do. His lack of a sense of time is the theme of a running gag at our house. In his little brain, everything happened “last weekend.” So we use this idiosyncrasy to enjoy a little laugh at his expense.
Mom: “Wash your hands, please.”
Tot: “I did.”
Mom (knowing full well what the answer will be): “When?”
Tot: “Last weekend.”
These precious moments won’t last forever!
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Photo of the Week: Future Doctors?
This is not as recent a picture as I’d like to post, but it is my long-standing favorite.
Never knowing just how long you will have to wait at the doctor’s office, I opted to bring along the boys’ toy doctor kits.
I snapped this priceless pic with my cell phone once they became occupied with examining each other while waiting for the pediatrician to come in the exam room.
Perhaps a future career for them? A mom can only hope …
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Mom’s mission nearly complete
A few weeks ago we learned about Middletown mom, Kelly Schilling, who gave up her volunteer work following the birth of her daughter, Anna.
Still driven to help her community, she embarked on a quest to acquire 25,000 diapers for the Community Pregnancy Center in Middletown.
Kelly Schilling and daughter, AnnaShe has nearly achieved her goal.
“This week, the new total is 21,400. I feel confident we will either finish this week or next with our 25,000 mark,” Schilling said Friday, March 20. “My living room is ridiculous. These diapers are all over the place.”
Schilling said she felt blessed to have a healthy, happy baby but was concerned for mothers who were unable to provide for their babies. With support from her church, Schilling was able to start a diaper drive. Donors can claim a tax write-off.
Her next step is to establish a plan for delivering the diapers to the Center. “I definitely think it is going to be more then one car or truck load.”
Way to go, Kelly!
If you are a mom or know of a mom doing good in the community, we want to hear about it. Drop me a line at dmjordan@coxohio.com.
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Photo of the Week: Pot O’ Gold Cake
We’ve had some trying times at our house recently: Hubby was “downsized” last week (I have always hated that term, except when used in reference to a successful bariatric surgery).
Our two older children — ages 13 and 10 — are old enough to realize the challenges this will present for our family, while the youngest — at age 3 — will likely roll along blissfully unawares. (Thank God for small favors!)
Anyway, this is supposed to be “Wordless Wednesday,” so let’s get to the point: We all desperately needed a distraction this weekend, and what better way to put a smile on someone’s face than a big hunk of cake!
Maybe I’ve been watching too many late-night repeats of “Amazing Wedding Cakes” or the ultracool “Ace of Cakes” (I even got my son hooked on that show, but shh! he’d die of embarrassment if I told you), but I wasn’t going to be satisfied presenting the fam with just any old layer cake.
I did a sketch, searched high and low for gold-foil chocolate coins (I finally found them at Sweetwater Sweets at Town & Country shopping center in Kettering), and improvised a rainbow out of Airheads from Dollar Tree.
The whole family got involved: Son No. 1 mixed the colored icing; daughter helped ice and sprinkled on the colored sugar; son No. 2 helped lick the beaters.
And — ta-da! — this is what we gave to Hubby: a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. We were so proud of our creation, and it was yummy too.
If we pull together like we did while making our St. Patrick’s Day “masterpiece,” and we remember to savor the simple pleasures of spending time as a family, we’ll enjoy more treasure than we could ever wish for.
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DST wreaks havoc on tot schedules
William Willett, the British inventor of modern daylight-saving time, must not have been responsible for getting his children out of bed and ready for school, technically, an hour earlier.
Just one hour. Who would have thought that could make such a difference in the day-to-day routine of families?
Before I had children, losing that hour of sleep didn’t phase me too much. I’d just show up to class late or not show up at all … (that explains a few things.)
But now that I am a mom, I despise this time change.
I have tried all kind of tricks of the trade to help my boys adjust, even forgoing nap time in hopes they will actually be tired by the “new” 8 p.m.
After suffering through an afternoon and evening of whining and moping around, the new bedtime could not come fast enough. And fall asleep they did, but waking up at the now pitch dark 7 a.m. did not happen willingly.
Convincing two groggy boys that it really was time to get dressed was not an easy task. As for breakfast? Forget it. They weren’t hungry yet and would rather starve than even settle for a Rice Krispies treat before heading out the door.
Since the change to DST now comes earlier and stays later, I just don’t see the need for a time change at all. By the time we adjust back to standard time — which, granted, is a little easier — DST has snuck up on us again. We need to either pick one and stick to it, or meet in the middle and leave it alone.
Some parents say, “But then little Johnny would be getting on the bus in the dark in November.” Have you looked outside at 7:30 a.m. in the past few days? It’s dark. It’s March. So what is the difference?
If child safety is a concern — which it understandably is — then why don’t we adjust the school hours in the winter to be during daylight only and eliminate the need for a two-hour-delay on snowy mornings.
Yeah, I know I’m reaching here. But there has to be a better solution. Several changes to DST have taken place since its establishment in 1918, so clearly it is not an agreed upon necessity.
In fact, in 1974, an “energy crisis year,” DST began Jan. 6. Eek! As much as I enjoy the daylight of late summer evenings, I know a family of four, soon-to-be-five, that would opt for standard time, all of the time.
How do you help your little ones adjust to the frequent time-changes?
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Brush up on your brogue: Free language lessons!
Are you a wee bit o’ Irish? Will you be pulling out the once-a-year “Kiss Me I’m Irish” T-shirt and cooking corned beef and cabbage on St. Patrick’s Day at your house? We sure will.
But Rosetta Stone, the language-learning software company, wants us to go a step further: They’re offering a chance to celebrate our Irish heritage (many of us have one!) and learn a few key phrases in Gaelic.
The company is making their Irish software available for free for one week.
Starting on March 12, Rosetta Stone is inviting consumers to “brush up on their brogue” by offering one week of free Irish language tutorials online.
You can access the free Rosetta Stone Irish program trial by logging onto www.rosettastone.com and clicking on the registration link (link will be live beginning March 12, according to a company press release). Free access to the lessons will be available until March 19.
On a personal note, being of the monolingual persuasion has always bothered me: Many of my friends speak several languages — French, Spanish, Dutch, German, Chinese, Russian, Bulgarian. One friend who works for Finnair speaks eight! Frankly, I feel culturally stunted, and I hope my children don’t have to endure the same fate.
I’ve always wondered if Rosetta Stone or a similar system would work, but I was too cheap to invest hundreds of dollars to find out. Maybe this is my ticket.
Has anyone else out there learned a language as an adult? Or taught your child a second (or third) language? Please share your stories.
At Ireland-information.com, I found a phrase you may want to try out on your kids post-St. Paddy’s Day:
“Bi ciuin! Ta tinneas cinn orm.” (PRONOUNCED: bee quewn! Taw tinniss kinn urm.)
MEANING: “Be quiet! I have a headache.”
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Photo of the Week: Angels or devils?
They look like two sweet angels …
But how could something so sweet (well, two somethings so sweet) wreak so much havoc?
These are the same angels who leave a path of destruction wherever they go … from broken crayons, to spilled juice on the carpet, to toilet paper rolled from the bathroom to the kitchen.
The same angels who sneak pieces of candy or swigs of pop when Mommy’s not looking.
The same angels who demand five back-to-back rounds of Candy Land, followed by a game of Crazy Eights, immediately followed by a game of “Hi-Ho Cherry-O,” preceded by three rounds of Memory, two rounds of Chutes and Ladders, four games of Connect Four and one round of Old Maid.
The same angels who start screaming, “It hurts” before you even start brushing their hair.
The same angels who refuse to let you get a good night’s sleep … from the 9 p.m. “But Mommy, I’m not tired,” to the inconsolable 1 a.m. cry from teething pains, to the 3 a.m. “Mommy, I’m really scared of the dark, can I sleep with you?” to the 4 a.m. swift kick in the ribs, to the 5 a.m. slap in the face to the 6 a.m. “Is it time to wake up?”
Angels or devils?
I guess every angel has a devilish side.
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Idol brings out child’s “inner performer”
It was another Tuesday night and I went out of my way to be sure bath time was over, teeth were brushed and pajamas were on by 8 p.m. — including mine.
It isn’t every day Mommy gets to indulge in her guilty pleasure of American Idol. A guilty pleasure that my 5-year-old son, Noah also enjoys.
“Can I watch the singing show with you?” he asks.
So we settle on the couch with little brother Nick, who just likes whatever Noah likes. Daddy gave up on AI when Chris Daughtry was prematurely voted off a few seasons ago.
Last night’s Michael Jackson themed show proved though, what I have expected for quite some time. Noah, is a performer.
As if his comment the night before while watching Dancing With the Stars wasn’t enough proof, “When are they going to dance fast?” — it was when AI contestant Danny Gokey took the stage that it truly sunk in.
Noah was off the couch within the first note of “PYT.” Arms flailing, head bobbing and legs stomping he moved in front of the TV like a caffeinated chipmunk (surely you have all seen the Alvin and the Chipmunks movie, right?).
Before the judges could even sing their praises Noah breathlessly asked, “Can we rewind that?”
So I did. I also recorded it and first thing out of bed this morning, Noah clicked on the DVR and was jamming away again to “PYT.”
For me, it was better than that first sip of morning coffee. I can’t wait to see what gets him moving next week. I just hope it isn’t Barry Manilow week — ugh.
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Get rid of sibling rivalry once and for all
It only took me 10 years to figure out, but I’ve finally stumbled upon a parenting pointer that has eased the sibling rivalry at our house considerably — and it just might work for you.
It’s called “Listening To Your Child.”
For years, when the TV remote was tugged between sister and brother, privacy boundaries were stomped across, books were bickered over, computer time complaints were logged, I was handling it all wrong.
I was trying to be sensible, make things fair. I would argue the case of the transgressed-upon to the transgressor. Some nights, I talked till I was blue in the face. Only to hear the same response over and over: “It’s … not … FAIR!”
(At which point I must pause to share my own father’s response to the question of fairness: When one of his three daughters would trot out the tired phrase, he’d bellow, “If you want fair, go to Hookstown!” — a little inside joke referring to the big regional fair in Hookstown, Pa., that we frequented. We all still crack up at the memory. Even my Hubby uses the line, and he’s never even BEEN to Hookstown.)
But clearly, my strategy wasn’t working.
I have since found that — surprise! — kids just want to be listened to sometimes. Who’da thunk it?
That’s all they need: a sympathetic ear. Someone who will take the time to sit quietly with them at their bedside and let them spew all that anger and unhappiness and angst that tends to build up in adolescent brains, without trying to reason or explain it away. They just need to unload and be heard.
So now, when the woeful wails of sibling rivalry start, I separate the warring factions and listen to the “injured” party’s list of grievances first. Then I say something wise like, “I understand how you feel,” usually followed by more listening.
Then I drop the bomb: “I’ll talk to him/her about it.”
For some unknown reason, this magical phrase is like a spell that transforms the hurt and bitterness into something less so — something almost like civility. You can almost see the tension lift.
Next, it’s time to visit with the “villain” and get his/her side of things. And after a good listen (and maybe a promised concession or two), I usually end the conversation with some variation on the Golden Rule.
This simple method has defused many screaming matches at our house. So if you’ve had your fill of the bickering, try this calming technique on your own raging rugrats. Let me know if it works like a charm for you, too.
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Photo of the week: Meet the new cousin!
My own little brother, Ryan, and his wife, Kat, recently embarked on the journey of parenthood. Baby Sydney officially joined the family last November.
Christmas provided the perfect photo opportunity of the new cousins all together. We plopped them in front of the tree and gently placed the new baby in Noah’s arms. He cradled her gently saying “cheese” when he was prompted while Nicholas sat close by.
All was going well until uncle Ryan, having snapped the very picture he wanted, mindlessly blurted out, “OK! Who’s ready for presents?”
Hello? There are two preschool age boys coddling your daughter and you mention “presents!”
Naturally, plop went Sydney, right onto the floor. She rolled (softly) from Noah’s lap as he dropped his arms and hopped up, eager to tear open his packages. Startled she was, as were the new parents, but Sydney remained unharmed.
This photo was snapped just seconds before the now humorous incident occurred.
Chalk one up to lessons learned. I’ll keep that in mind when our new baby is introduced to his/her big brothers.
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