(passing on samantha's post):
New research on BPA
http://eatdrinkbetter.com/2009/12/17/new-data-on-bpa-reveals-more-negative-effects/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+GreenOptions+%28Green+Options%29
12.18.2009
Sigh.
I had a much needed, very sweet visit from my friend Bridget last week. Who could've predicted ten years ago that our visits would be about staying indoors, entertaining kids, and catching up over a period of five days between constant but little interruptions? It was so nice to have her here for an extended time with no concrete plans, and really get to just hang out and be together. It was definitely good for my soul.
Now I find myself one week away from Christmas and doing last minute, online shopping. I'm all for shopping locally, but some things are easier and cheaper online. I've discovered Etsy as my trade-off site: I'm buying from independent sellers, but with the realization that online buying leaves a carbon footprint. Seriously, though, as a non-crafty person in awe of all things crafty, this site is fabulous. I ordered some earrings for my mother that contain the boys' three birthstones inside a sterling silver "peapod", and a customized crochet hat for my dad. My mother informed me that he has such a big head that he has trouble finding winter hats, and he still uses the same two he had in HIGHSCHOOL. How many other 53-yr-olds do you know that can make that same claim? Sheesh.
The dissertation is still my achiles heel. I haven't the motivation to care about it. But I must, must, must. I'm thinking I'll work the whole weekend after Christmas, since Mike can watch all 3 boys. Let's hope I can accomplish lots in a weekend.
Our 3 little monsters:
Now I find myself one week away from Christmas and doing last minute, online shopping. I'm all for shopping locally, but some things are easier and cheaper online. I've discovered Etsy as my trade-off site: I'm buying from independent sellers, but with the realization that online buying leaves a carbon footprint. Seriously, though, as a non-crafty person in awe of all things crafty, this site is fabulous. I ordered some earrings for my mother that contain the boys' three birthstones inside a sterling silver "peapod", and a customized crochet hat for my dad. My mother informed me that he has such a big head that he has trouble finding winter hats, and he still uses the same two he had in HIGHSCHOOL. How many other 53-yr-olds do you know that can make that same claim? Sheesh.
The dissertation is still my achiles heel. I haven't the motivation to care about it. But I must, must, must. I'm thinking I'll work the whole weekend after Christmas, since Mike can watch all 3 boys. Let's hope I can accomplish lots in a weekend.
Our 3 little monsters:
12.09.2009
snowed in
for the first time in as long as i can remember, we are literally snowed in. mike opened the garage door this morning and the snow was piled up 3 feet. he shoveled out a path for the van in order to get to work, but because plows haven't been into our culdesac yet, he can't get into the street. so we're snowed in. the highs predicted for today are, (ready for this?) in the "0s". um, wow. wind gusts are at 55 mpg and we already have over 14 inches of snow. it looks like this outside:
so we're staying in our jammies, listening to holiday music, and hunkering down. pretty much doing this all day:
sarah, it's too cold to go out, but your beautiful scarves are still getting some play today:
i'm keeping all fingers and toes crossed that bridget's flight will be allowed to get in tonight.
so we're staying in our jammies, listening to holiday music, and hunkering down. pretty much doing this all day:
sarah, it's too cold to go out, but your beautiful scarves are still getting some play today:
i'm keeping all fingers and toes crossed that bridget's flight will be allowed to get in tonight.
12.08.2009
snow. cold. ice. wind.
this is what everyone is talking about. probably because the snow seems to be everywhere this time; not just in iowa. i'm hearing 8-14 inches by tomorrow morning. blizzard conditions tonight, & freezing rain. of COURSE all of this has to hit at the exact moment my dear friend Bridget is set to be making a trip to visit. her flight was supposed to come in tonight at 10pm. not so much. hopefully by tomorrow night it will have cleared up and she will be here. i'm counting down. i can't wait, bridget! be like the postal service and just get here--please.
so i'm not as spirited about the white outside as is everyone else i know who are making holiday cookies and playing holiday music. i'm just wishing it away.
we did, however, decorate for the holidays this past weekend. meagerly, but decorated nonetheless. right now on the fireplace hangs 3 stockings-- one for jack, and two tiny ones for morphine and lucy. i reserve all photos until the stocking hanging is complete....... (sarah, i am dying with anticipation here. i'm so superfragalistically pumped to see the newest ones!)
for lexi, i took some photos of gavin (aka, the hipster) in his little sweater outfit you sent.
our (only) potty pooper:
gavin was introduced recently to his play gym. he figured out quickly how to reach up and grab the toys. he's pretty into it so far.
so i'm not as spirited about the white outside as is everyone else i know who are making holiday cookies and playing holiday music. i'm just wishing it away.
we did, however, decorate for the holidays this past weekend. meagerly, but decorated nonetheless. right now on the fireplace hangs 3 stockings-- one for jack, and two tiny ones for morphine and lucy. i reserve all photos until the stocking hanging is complete....... (sarah, i am dying with anticipation here. i'm so superfragalistically pumped to see the newest ones!)
for lexi, i took some photos of gavin (aka, the hipster) in his little sweater outfit you sent.
our (only) potty pooper:
gavin was introduced recently to his play gym. he figured out quickly how to reach up and grab the toys. he's pretty into it so far.
12.03.2009
our first poop on the potty
today we experienced our first poop on the potty. from benjamin. yes, he turned 19 months today and celebrated by pooping on the potty. this, however, was not sufficient enough pressure to convince his older brother to follow suit. sheesh. benj finds the potty seat fun in a number of ways:
gavin hit the 2 month mark a few days ago. here he is on thanksgiving, winking in joy for turkey day:
now that my cold is finally, finally beginning to subside, i feel like i'm managing better. today i also have alison back for a couple days, so i've gotten some much-needed downtime in the basement to relax and catch up on things a little. i went on a date with jack a couple days ago, and took him to the library and then to a music class. when it's just the two of us, it's amazing how well he behaves and how much fun i have with him. when the boys are older, i'll have to make it a point to schedule a "date" alone with each of them every month, so we always have a little one-on-one time. perhaps mike can do the same. hopefully we'll still find time to schedule one-on-one time as a couple, too!
last night we watched Food, Inc. Amazing, amazing, amazing. i HIGHLY recommend you add it to your netflix/redbox, lists. it's an hour and a half that will change the way you view food and consumerism. we've already started to make some changes. we may instigate meatless mondays (although that isn't discussed in the film, i've read about it elsewhere and it seems like a good start) and are planning to purchase a share from a local CSA for our joint christmas gift this year. i may have to pay a lot more attention to labels now, too. (and eat at chipotle more often ;)
gavin hit the 2 month mark a few days ago. here he is on thanksgiving, winking in joy for turkey day:
now that my cold is finally, finally beginning to subside, i feel like i'm managing better. today i also have alison back for a couple days, so i've gotten some much-needed downtime in the basement to relax and catch up on things a little. i went on a date with jack a couple days ago, and took him to the library and then to a music class. when it's just the two of us, it's amazing how well he behaves and how much fun i have with him. when the boys are older, i'll have to make it a point to schedule a "date" alone with each of them every month, so we always have a little one-on-one time. perhaps mike can do the same. hopefully we'll still find time to schedule one-on-one time as a couple, too!
last night we watched Food, Inc. Amazing, amazing, amazing. i HIGHLY recommend you add it to your netflix/redbox, lists. it's an hour and a half that will change the way you view food and consumerism. we've already started to make some changes. we may instigate meatless mondays (although that isn't discussed in the film, i've read about it elsewhere and it seems like a good start) and are planning to purchase a share from a local CSA for our joint christmas gift this year. i may have to pay a lot more attention to labels now, too. (and eat at chipotle more often ;)
11.29.2009
Confessions of a Burnt Out Mom
{let me just say at the outset of this posting that, more than anything, i just need a spot to vent for a minute. mike and i barely have time to talk anymore because we are so tired, and i rarely have a spare moment to call or email any of my uber supportive friends. so i'm eeking out a moment to type up an entry in honor of my recent hysteria and exhaustion, so that i can at least get it out somewhere. i'm not expecting advice or wisdom, and certainly am not looking to worry anyone. just venting.}
Though I've only got three years of parenting under my belt, I've come to believe that moms have the longest ropes. But even mothers' ropes have to end somewhere, and I reached the end of mine this week. Maybe it's because I'm battling a cold and feel downright exhausted most of the time. Maybe it's because I've had no childcare for a couple weeks, and the goal of completing my final dissertation chapter before the New Year seems irrational at this point. Or maybe two months post-partum is the magical turning point when everything finally explodes. Whatever it is, I've truly hit the wall. For the past few mornings, I wake up and feel immediate dread that I have to face an entire day--alone--with my children. How terrible is that? All I really want to do is stay in bed and cuddle with Gavin. He's warm, he's quiet, he's easy to please, and he's sweet. And he is mostly neglected these days, because he's far too willing to lie in a bouncy seat or on the changing pad and wait for me to come back after running around like a chicken with my head cut off after his older brothers. At some point, poor Gavin will have to learn to speak up for himself in order to claim some attention or he'll get trampled by the other needy individuals in the house. Most mornings my teary outbursts are responses to sudden feelings of guilt over not being able to give him the attention and interaction he deserves, or that the others received when they were babies. The few moments I carve out each day to stare into Gavin's eyes and sing or talk to him, he kicks his legs and smiles and gets so excited. It makes me cry that he's like a little neglected puppy, so happy someone is finally interacting with him.
Benjamin is a doll, but 18 (well, in a few days, make that 19) months is a trying age. He's too young to discipline or to "get it" when I try to explain what's off limits, but still agile enough to do so many dangerous and irksome things that he needs constant monitoring.
Jack, however, is my challenge. I'm finding age three to be much, much more difficult than age two was. He is not just testing limits now, he's outrightly defying them because he KNOWS what's not allowed. I tell him time and again not to do things, and he does them with an evil laugh as fast as he can, just to get a reaction out of me. My patience is wearing thin, and while I know everything he does is developmentally appropriate, I can't seem to let things roll off me as easily as I should. I feel horrible admitting it, but while I always love Jack, recently there are moments when I just do not like him. His aggressive behavior toward his siblings, friends, and our cats, his obsession with doing the opposite of what I ask him to do, and his absolute destructive behaivor around the house is driving me mad.
I reached an alltime low on Friday, when after 8 hours of trying to manage three kids who were pent up inside while I felt like death warmed over, I lost it moments before Mike got home. Between a shattered light bulb that left tiny specks of glass all over the carpet, two toddlers covered in mud, and my 3-yr-old literally beating the crap out of his younger brother, I started yelling like a mad woman with my almost gone voice and yanking Jack around to get him cleaned off. The fact that he was not the least bit frightened of mommy's mad voice, and in fact, found it so funny that he kept hitting me and laughing in a demonish way and running away (still covered in mud) just pushed me over the edge. Mike walked in and I promptly demanded he take them away and that I didn't want to see or be around them anymore. Clutching Gavin on the couch, I bawled to myself for awhile. It didn't last long, and soon after I felt embarrased and ashamed at my break down and childish behavior toward my 3-yr-old who was being, well, three. But since then I've had a dark cloud hanging over my parenting attitude, and a much shorter fuse than ever before. I'm looking forward to Jack beginning his early preschool program in January more than ever because I simply need a little break. It's only 2 mornings a week, for a couple hours each time, and I'll still have two other kids to juggle, but dear god, I NEED a break of some sort. And he needs to learn some structure and discipline from someone other than me. Because god knows he's not listenting to Mike and I.
I have to wonder where the line is between post-partum depression and simply being burnt out. I'm sure I'm just burnt out, but it truly must be a paper thin boundary.
Though I've only got three years of parenting under my belt, I've come to believe that moms have the longest ropes. But even mothers' ropes have to end somewhere, and I reached the end of mine this week. Maybe it's because I'm battling a cold and feel downright exhausted most of the time. Maybe it's because I've had no childcare for a couple weeks, and the goal of completing my final dissertation chapter before the New Year seems irrational at this point. Or maybe two months post-partum is the magical turning point when everything finally explodes. Whatever it is, I've truly hit the wall. For the past few mornings, I wake up and feel immediate dread that I have to face an entire day--alone--with my children. How terrible is that? All I really want to do is stay in bed and cuddle with Gavin. He's warm, he's quiet, he's easy to please, and he's sweet. And he is mostly neglected these days, because he's far too willing to lie in a bouncy seat or on the changing pad and wait for me to come back after running around like a chicken with my head cut off after his older brothers. At some point, poor Gavin will have to learn to speak up for himself in order to claim some attention or he'll get trampled by the other needy individuals in the house. Most mornings my teary outbursts are responses to sudden feelings of guilt over not being able to give him the attention and interaction he deserves, or that the others received when they were babies. The few moments I carve out each day to stare into Gavin's eyes and sing or talk to him, he kicks his legs and smiles and gets so excited. It makes me cry that he's like a little neglected puppy, so happy someone is finally interacting with him.
Benjamin is a doll, but 18 (well, in a few days, make that 19) months is a trying age. He's too young to discipline or to "get it" when I try to explain what's off limits, but still agile enough to do so many dangerous and irksome things that he needs constant monitoring.
Jack, however, is my challenge. I'm finding age three to be much, much more difficult than age two was. He is not just testing limits now, he's outrightly defying them because he KNOWS what's not allowed. I tell him time and again not to do things, and he does them with an evil laugh as fast as he can, just to get a reaction out of me. My patience is wearing thin, and while I know everything he does is developmentally appropriate, I can't seem to let things roll off me as easily as I should. I feel horrible admitting it, but while I always love Jack, recently there are moments when I just do not like him. His aggressive behavior toward his siblings, friends, and our cats, his obsession with doing the opposite of what I ask him to do, and his absolute destructive behaivor around the house is driving me mad.
I reached an alltime low on Friday, when after 8 hours of trying to manage three kids who were pent up inside while I felt like death warmed over, I lost it moments before Mike got home. Between a shattered light bulb that left tiny specks of glass all over the carpet, two toddlers covered in mud, and my 3-yr-old literally beating the crap out of his younger brother, I started yelling like a mad woman with my almost gone voice and yanking Jack around to get him cleaned off. The fact that he was not the least bit frightened of mommy's mad voice, and in fact, found it so funny that he kept hitting me and laughing in a demonish way and running away (still covered in mud) just pushed me over the edge. Mike walked in and I promptly demanded he take them away and that I didn't want to see or be around them anymore. Clutching Gavin on the couch, I bawled to myself for awhile. It didn't last long, and soon after I felt embarrased and ashamed at my break down and childish behavior toward my 3-yr-old who was being, well, three. But since then I've had a dark cloud hanging over my parenting attitude, and a much shorter fuse than ever before. I'm looking forward to Jack beginning his early preschool program in January more than ever because I simply need a little break. It's only 2 mornings a week, for a couple hours each time, and I'll still have two other kids to juggle, but dear god, I NEED a break of some sort. And he needs to learn some structure and discipline from someone other than me. Because god knows he's not listenting to Mike and I.
I have to wonder where the line is between post-partum depression and simply being burnt out. I'm sure I'm just burnt out, but it truly must be a paper thin boundary.
11.16.2009
photo update
overdue halloween photos
i worry that we may have already missed the prime window for sarah's sweater...he's getting big fast!
my incredible friend (from third grade!) shelly, who has been bringing food by every wednesday since gavin's birth and helping me entertain the kids when mike is working
i worry that we may have already missed the prime window for sarah's sweater...he's getting big fast!
my incredible friend (from third grade!) shelly, who has been bringing food by every wednesday since gavin's birth and helping me entertain the kids when mike is working
my newest headspin
planning for preschool is C O M P L I C A T E D. i had no idea. i hadn't given a thought to preschool until 1) my sweet friend carrie posted on her blog about putting down a sizely deposit for preschool just a few months after her daughter turned two, and 2) a WDM representative came to speak to our parenting class about choosing preschools. as i listened to other parents talk about wait lists and tours and tuition, i had one of those "oh shit" moments where i wondered what planet i had been on to be so out-of-the-loop on this. i'm typically a pretty type-A person, so it's ironic that i hadn't even thought to begin looking into preschools for jack yet. since he's not potty trained yet, starting at age three was not an option, and since at this point we figure we'll wait until he turns six to begin kindergarten, there didn't seem to be a hurry.
i started looking into it and found that some preschools had already registered for NEXT fall's program, and others had waiting lists that were available since BIRTH (we're still in Iowa, right??) so i jumped into things fast and we visited eight preschools in two weeks. phew, my head is spinning. we liked the public montessori in des moines, but found that it has a year and a half wait list, and will be $5000 for the HALF day program. we were unprepared, to say the least, for that news. as it turns out, i'm glad we visited so many. although toward the end, they began to look alike, we were able to see the drastic differences between preschools, even in our area. and we ended up choosing one that we never would've imagined we would have chosen.
we were positive that we'd only look at preschools that were not located within churches. we are big fans, to say the least, of the separation of church and state, and it's partly on principle that we'd want our child to attend a preschool that does not interweave religious content into its curriculum. although i was a religion minor in college, and mike and i both have a long history of religious participation and exploration (we even met in a methodist church choir), we feel strongly that spirituality is a personal thing and best left to the private sphere. i want my boys to each answer life's big questions on their own, and come into their own belief systems, without recieving that external push from sunday school, or other types of religious instruction. this is not a popular approach to preschool in west des moines, where 90% of the preschools are inside christian churches and contain some sort of religious content. it's been a complicated decision for us, weighing factors of religious curriculum content against schedules, facilities, educational approaches, and location. we narrowed it down to two church preschools, ironically; one that does not include religious content in their preschool curriculum and one that does (through a snack-time prayer, and discussion of the christmas/easter stories, etc.)
at this point we are leaning toward the one that does have religious content because its facility, teachers, location, schedule, and availability are just downright better than our other top choice. i guess this is one of those parenting decisions where we have to prioritize what will be better for our children rather than what makes the most sense for our politics. i imagine this battle will never end.
still, i find myself irked for those families in this area who need a preschool, but whom are not christian. a jewish friend of mine sends her kids to a private school that used to be a jewish academy. it's nice she has that option, but many wouldn't-- it's about $10,000 a year for tution! what about the other jews/hindus/buddhists/pagans/agnostics/atheists who are searching for a good education for their young kids?
it appears i've now added universal preschool to my list of "wishes" for our country.
i started looking into it and found that some preschools had already registered for NEXT fall's program, and others had waiting lists that were available since BIRTH (we're still in Iowa, right??) so i jumped into things fast and we visited eight preschools in two weeks. phew, my head is spinning. we liked the public montessori in des moines, but found that it has a year and a half wait list, and will be $5000 for the HALF day program. we were unprepared, to say the least, for that news. as it turns out, i'm glad we visited so many. although toward the end, they began to look alike, we were able to see the drastic differences between preschools, even in our area. and we ended up choosing one that we never would've imagined we would have chosen.
we were positive that we'd only look at preschools that were not located within churches. we are big fans, to say the least, of the separation of church and state, and it's partly on principle that we'd want our child to attend a preschool that does not interweave religious content into its curriculum. although i was a religion minor in college, and mike and i both have a long history of religious participation and exploration (we even met in a methodist church choir), we feel strongly that spirituality is a personal thing and best left to the private sphere. i want my boys to each answer life's big questions on their own, and come into their own belief systems, without recieving that external push from sunday school, or other types of religious instruction. this is not a popular approach to preschool in west des moines, where 90% of the preschools are inside christian churches and contain some sort of religious content. it's been a complicated decision for us, weighing factors of religious curriculum content against schedules, facilities, educational approaches, and location. we narrowed it down to two church preschools, ironically; one that does not include religious content in their preschool curriculum and one that does (through a snack-time prayer, and discussion of the christmas/easter stories, etc.)
at this point we are leaning toward the one that does have religious content because its facility, teachers, location, schedule, and availability are just downright better than our other top choice. i guess this is one of those parenting decisions where we have to prioritize what will be better for our children rather than what makes the most sense for our politics. i imagine this battle will never end.
still, i find myself irked for those families in this area who need a preschool, but whom are not christian. a jewish friend of mine sends her kids to a private school that used to be a jewish academy. it's nice she has that option, but many wouldn't-- it's about $10,000 a year for tution! what about the other jews/hindus/buddhists/pagans/agnostics/atheists who are searching for a good education for their young kids?
it appears i've now added universal preschool to my list of "wishes" for our country.
11.10.2009
It Takes a Village to Raise a Child. Now, can someone give me directions so I can find it?
Where is my village? Where is our village? I've asked myself this question a dozen times a day since having more than one child. Going from 1 child to 1+ children has opened my eyes, more than ever, to the fact that it DOES take a village to raise children. Literally and figuratively. Times have changed since our parents grew up, since we grew up. It's no longer kosher to unleash your 7-yr-old on the world, assuming that other kids' parents will look out for them (discipline them, feed them, etc.) when they show up in their yard to play with their kids. This is the age of helicopter parenting, where you must hover over your child's every move to 1) assure them full attention and 2) assure those watching you that you are indeed attending to and in control of your child.
I had the worst experience just over a week ago of leaving the house with all three kids. I took them to the library for a little toddler class we often go to. It's a small, one-story library, that is arguably child-focused. I thought it was going well. Gavin was awake, but happy to sit in the carseat. The other two seemed to enjoy the class. After the class, I attempted to carry the carseat, the diaper bag, and our huge bag of books from aisle to aisle, while we collected new books to check out. Jack and Benj were all over the place, so it was a bit of a mad dash from here to here to keep eyes on all three while still collecting books and carrying things around. Jack insisted on doing the self-check out of the books. So Benj followed him. I raced over to put the stack of books down on the checkout desk, while they stood on the stool, ready to scan the library card. I told them to stay put while I went back to get the carseat and diaper bag from the main library area (about 20 feet away, on the back side of a wall). As I ran over to get Gavin, a little girl and her grandmother were hanging over the carseat. I politely let her see the baby (perhaps waited a moment too long before grabbing him and dashing back to my toddlers-- fatal mistake). As I get back to the self-check out, I see Jack standing alone, peering at the commotion at the doors to the library. A little girl is sitting on the floor crying, a member of the library staff is racing out the door, and Benjamin is no where to be seen. Bad, bad, bad. I run out the door and see him starting down the steps toward the parking lot, with the library staff member steps behind him. She grabs him, and I take him. I apologize and return inside to find out why the little girl was crying. Here's where an already terrible situation gets worse (emotionally, that is).
I ask the girl's mother if Ben pushed her down. No, she says, she was about to head out the door when Ben ran past her, pushed the handicap button to open the door and raced out. She got scared when the library staff yelled and went after him. I apologize to her for the situation, and she says, "Well, he was running toward the STREET!" with this look that clearly indicates to me that she thinks I have no control over or concern for the welfare of my child. Yes, I tell her, I understand-- I just stepped away for a moment to get my baby's carseat and bring it over to the check-out. Meanwhile, all members of the library staff refuse to acknowledge me when I thank them for going after Benjamin and apologize for the incident. They don't make eye contact with me, but exchange looks with one another that are a mixture of disdain and amazement. Like an unspoken conversation about the crazy mother who was irresponsible enough to have that many children that she cannot control. I've never felt so judged and ashamed. I've always felt pretty good about my parenting, despite my mistakes, but that was the first time when I realized no one else agreed.
Jack is now screaming about checking out the books, so despite my complete urge to run as fast as possible out of that place, I have to try and help him do the self-check out for about 12 books. Every time I let go of Ben to show Jack how to scan the barcodes on the books, he darts again for the front doors, trying to recreate the whole incident (which he thinks is a great race at this point). I scramble after him, grabbing his arm and dragging him back, while Jack continues to whine that the scanning process isn't working. At this point, Gavin starts crying because he is tired of the carseat. I'm running around like a chicken with my head cut off and the library staff and other parents are just standing there, watching and shaking their heads. It's unassisted chaos, and they watch our circus freak show with "the look" all over their faces.
Where is my village? Where is the one understanding and sympathetic parent who could've stepped forward and said, "I see you have your hands full! Maybe your young toddler could join my daughter and I as we read this book while you check out your books with your older child?" Where were the more supportive faces of those who have "been there" and understand the bad days when your kids go wild in a public place? For god's sake, wasn't there anyone who could've at least stood in front of the door, blocking the exit so I at least knew Ben couldn'e escape while we finished packing up our books? Of course I don't expect others to help me parent whenever I leave the house, but a little solidarity and support would be nice.
If nothing else, this experience taught me two things. 1) From now on, when I witness another child's explosion in a public place, I'll do more than my usual "I'm glad that's not MY kid this time!". I'll see if there is any way I can help that parent out in their time of weakness; and 2) Despite my best intentions, I cannot keep all eyes and hands on each of my three children at one time. It's not physically possible. So I need to accept that I cannot be perfect and prevent those bad days from happening, and I'll have to forgive myself when they do. The tremendous guilt and self-loathing that accopanied that library experience is not something I can endure every time we leave the house. I can't be as good of a parent to three as I was to one, but I can try my best to do my best. And I guess that will have to do.
I had the worst experience just over a week ago of leaving the house with all three kids. I took them to the library for a little toddler class we often go to. It's a small, one-story library, that is arguably child-focused. I thought it was going well. Gavin was awake, but happy to sit in the carseat. The other two seemed to enjoy the class. After the class, I attempted to carry the carseat, the diaper bag, and our huge bag of books from aisle to aisle, while we collected new books to check out. Jack and Benj were all over the place, so it was a bit of a mad dash from here to here to keep eyes on all three while still collecting books and carrying things around. Jack insisted on doing the self-check out of the books. So Benj followed him. I raced over to put the stack of books down on the checkout desk, while they stood on the stool, ready to scan the library card. I told them to stay put while I went back to get the carseat and diaper bag from the main library area (about 20 feet away, on the back side of a wall). As I ran over to get Gavin, a little girl and her grandmother were hanging over the carseat. I politely let her see the baby (perhaps waited a moment too long before grabbing him and dashing back to my toddlers-- fatal mistake). As I get back to the self-check out, I see Jack standing alone, peering at the commotion at the doors to the library. A little girl is sitting on the floor crying, a member of the library staff is racing out the door, and Benjamin is no where to be seen. Bad, bad, bad. I run out the door and see him starting down the steps toward the parking lot, with the library staff member steps behind him. She grabs him, and I take him. I apologize and return inside to find out why the little girl was crying. Here's where an already terrible situation gets worse (emotionally, that is).
I ask the girl's mother if Ben pushed her down. No, she says, she was about to head out the door when Ben ran past her, pushed the handicap button to open the door and raced out. She got scared when the library staff yelled and went after him. I apologize to her for the situation, and she says, "Well, he was running toward the STREET!" with this look that clearly indicates to me that she thinks I have no control over or concern for the welfare of my child. Yes, I tell her, I understand-- I just stepped away for a moment to get my baby's carseat and bring it over to the check-out. Meanwhile, all members of the library staff refuse to acknowledge me when I thank them for going after Benjamin and apologize for the incident. They don't make eye contact with me, but exchange looks with one another that are a mixture of disdain and amazement. Like an unspoken conversation about the crazy mother who was irresponsible enough to have that many children that she cannot control. I've never felt so judged and ashamed. I've always felt pretty good about my parenting, despite my mistakes, but that was the first time when I realized no one else agreed.
Jack is now screaming about checking out the books, so despite my complete urge to run as fast as possible out of that place, I have to try and help him do the self-check out for about 12 books. Every time I let go of Ben to show Jack how to scan the barcodes on the books, he darts again for the front doors, trying to recreate the whole incident (which he thinks is a great race at this point). I scramble after him, grabbing his arm and dragging him back, while Jack continues to whine that the scanning process isn't working. At this point, Gavin starts crying because he is tired of the carseat. I'm running around like a chicken with my head cut off and the library staff and other parents are just standing there, watching and shaking their heads. It's unassisted chaos, and they watch our circus freak show with "the look" all over their faces.
Where is my village? Where is the one understanding and sympathetic parent who could've stepped forward and said, "I see you have your hands full! Maybe your young toddler could join my daughter and I as we read this book while you check out your books with your older child?" Where were the more supportive faces of those who have "been there" and understand the bad days when your kids go wild in a public place? For god's sake, wasn't there anyone who could've at least stood in front of the door, blocking the exit so I at least knew Ben couldn'e escape while we finished packing up our books? Of course I don't expect others to help me parent whenever I leave the house, but a little solidarity and support would be nice.
If nothing else, this experience taught me two things. 1) From now on, when I witness another child's explosion in a public place, I'll do more than my usual "I'm glad that's not MY kid this time!". I'll see if there is any way I can help that parent out in their time of weakness; and 2) Despite my best intentions, I cannot keep all eyes and hands on each of my three children at one time. It's not physically possible. So I need to accept that I cannot be perfect and prevent those bad days from happening, and I'll have to forgive myself when they do. The tremendous guilt and self-loathing that accopanied that library experience is not something I can endure every time we leave the house. I can't be as good of a parent to three as I was to one, but I can try my best to do my best. And I guess that will have to do.
10.29.2009
on the subject of being "done."
does anyone else out there find it incredible how soon after the birth of the baby people ask you either 1) when will the next one be coming? (if it is your first baby) or 2) so are you done? (if it is a subsequent baby). i've gotten this question after the birth of each boy, sometimes even the SAME day of the birth. why is everyone so concerned with how many kids a person has, and how they will be spaced? in my experience, i am not anywhere near ready to consider another baby (whether there will be one or not) immediately after the birth of a new one! yikes, annoying.
for me the subject of being "done" is a tough one because our kids have come so quickly and are so closely spaced. it's very hard for me to think "this is it" when i've not had a chance to say goodbye to babyhood in three years. it's hard to think "i'd better appreciate this day/moment/month, because it will be the last time i dress a child in a newborn outfit, or breastfeed, or give birth, or.....". there's been no time to sit and rest and ponder how many children i want or can handle or see us having. mike was "done" after two. now he tells everyone we know he's 200% sure that he's done after three. i'm not feeling it. this could be in big part because i've just had a baby and can't go there right now. it could be because i'm still in the midst of babyhood, in some sense, with all three boys, and can't imagine saying goodbye to it forever. it could also be because maybe i truly don't feel "done." i don't plan to make the decision for at least three more years (even if mike is sure he's already made it for me.)
every woman i speak with tells me the same thing: "you just know when you're done." i knew after benjamin that i wasn't. after gavin, i still don't feel done. maybe in a year or so i'll feel it. maybe when finances get tighter, i'll be forced to accept it. maybe after dealing with three bouncing boys i'll be so exhausted that i demand it. but right now, i don't. i'm just not sure what that means.
for me the subject of being "done" is a tough one because our kids have come so quickly and are so closely spaced. it's very hard for me to think "this is it" when i've not had a chance to say goodbye to babyhood in three years. it's hard to think "i'd better appreciate this day/moment/month, because it will be the last time i dress a child in a newborn outfit, or breastfeed, or give birth, or.....". there's been no time to sit and rest and ponder how many children i want or can handle or see us having. mike was "done" after two. now he tells everyone we know he's 200% sure that he's done after three. i'm not feeling it. this could be in big part because i've just had a baby and can't go there right now. it could be because i'm still in the midst of babyhood, in some sense, with all three boys, and can't imagine saying goodbye to it forever. it could also be because maybe i truly don't feel "done." i don't plan to make the decision for at least three more years (even if mike is sure he's already made it for me.)
every woman i speak with tells me the same thing: "you just know when you're done." i knew after benjamin that i wasn't. after gavin, i still don't feel done. maybe in a year or so i'll feel it. maybe when finances get tighter, i'll be forced to accept it. maybe after dealing with three bouncing boys i'll be so exhausted that i demand it. but right now, i don't. i'm just not sure what that means.
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