Mammarazzi gone stalker...

Well, it seems that the hubbs may be correct. I *might* be a bit of a stalker.

Seems I'm obsessed. Completely, utterly OBSESSED with taking pics of my fam while they sleep. And not just the kiddos. Hubbs is in on this action too.

I cannot help it that they are all adorable as they sleep. This is clearly not my fault. And so, I document.

It started innocently enough. I mean. Look at them. all snuggled up together. On me. Adorable!

And they just kept it up. The napping on mamma. All the cuteness.

And then they conked out on daddy. While daddy conked out. Come on!

And then my little no napper and her only-naps-on-mamma brother fell asleep in the afternoon. at the same time. in bed. without me. and there was much rejoicing. and then it never happened again.

but then, at night, they started gravitating towards each other. I will admit, the crossing of her arms over her chest makes this pic exceptionally creepy. the filter is not helping matters. yet I soldier on for the perfect stalking shot.

And then, all the absolutely exhausted happened to everyone. except mommy. who was utterly exhausted, yet 100% awake. because mom.

and these two. of COURSE there's stalking.

just. melting.

and this face. I get to stare at this sweet face every. night. because blessed.

and then, date night. our kiddos sleep "praise Jesus" style. we watch movies. win win.

Stalker indeed.

soon enough, they won't want to snuggle with us. soon enough, this bed will go back to just 2. for now, I'll keep on mammarazzing my way through our nights.

loves!

My Awesometastic Guide to Lazy Parenting

Disclaimer: I am (clearly) not a parenting expert. I have, however, found that what we did, and do, works REAL well for us, so I thought I'd share. And also, lazy. So YES.

I am not indicting your parenting style. You do you. Whatever works in this crazy game of parenting.

So. I've been thinking of writing this blog for some time now. Because I seem to end up in convos where someone asks me why I've done what I've done with my kiddos, and typically my answer is "I'm lazy". And I gotta say, the laziness has TOTALLY worked for my fam. Worked better than I ever imagined it would, quite honestly.

So here's the scoop. We had every intention of being "normal" parents- bought the crib, set up the room, had all the typical parenting books ready, bottles in the cupboard, breast pump purchased, the whole nine. Then, this happened.  Babygirl showed up at 29 weeks. All 2 lbs 10 oz of her. And in a flash, everything changed. I had 2 months in the NICU- 2 months where all I did was sit in a recliner and hold this very tiny person skin to skin. And while I did that, I read. A. LOT. It started with the kangaroo care (skin to skin) and from there, I entered into the world of attachment parenting. I had never heard of it, but it became clear pretty quickly that, ready or not, this would have to be our parenting style. Lucky for us, we fell head over heels in love with our daughter, and with this style.

I was terrified to put her in a crib to sleep- getting to watch your child stop breathing and need oxygen from a tank blown into her face a few times will do that to you. In the NICU, the nurses were kind enough to "not notice" that babygirl slept through most of the night on my chest. Her vitals were always best that way. And we continued the trend when we came home. There was just no way I was putting her down for sleep. Neither of us would get any sleep if I did that. She slept on my chest, nursed when she woke and was hungry, and we both drifted easily back to sleep. For the first 2 1/2 years of her life. Then I got pregnant, and at 28 weeks, my supply completely dried up, so the co sleeping continues, just not the nursing her. And now we're joined by our little man, who is just about a year old. Although his entrance into this world was no drama, I still just couldn't bring myself to put him in a crib. So we have our little family in our big king bed, and we love it.

So here's the lazy: we have zero amounts of bedtime routines, except prayers. Occasionally, there'll be a bath. Sometimes a book, depending on what time we manage to get upstairs (daddy has to work late a lot so dinner happens on the later side most days). We change into jammies, we giggle, we snuggle, and within about 15 minutes, both kiddos are out. Ok, both kiddos and daddy, who gets up at ass o'clock for work. No screaming, no crying, no asking for water, no "get back into bed".  Just a really nice, relaxing, cuddle fest. And that leaves mommy free to watch all the garbage television she can get on Hulu and Netflix, or read a book (my nightstand is well stocked with books, nightlights, snacks, remotes, and my phone. always be prepared).

This works on so many levels for us. Obvs, because we're lazy. Also, because we travel a ridiculous amount. Whether it be because the entire family decides to join daddy in California on a work trip for 3 weeks, or because we're constantly flying back and forth from here to Jersey to see our families. We spend an inordinate amount of time sleeping somewhere besides home. And not a pack and play, travel bassinet, extra bed/ room is needed. No packing all the extra things. No special blankies or stuffies, sometimes not even pj's (we generate a LOT of body heat between all of us). No hard nights cause the kiddos are somewhere new. Not even an issue with time changes, which amazes me. No settling back in to our "bedtime routine", or lack there of. Lazy. And awesome.

So. Bottles. When girlfriend was in the NICU, she was too tiny to eat. So for the longest time, they fed her through a tube up her nose. Around 33 weeks, we gave feeding her a try. They told us that bottles are easiest for their little jaws, so we would try that. And that if we wanted it right from the breast, expect to be in the NICU for a longer amount of time. She took a bottle fairly well, but didn't seem to like it so much (she had been latching on to my nipple since I started holding her, but not able to suck). So we got the first bottle out of the way, and I announced that that would be her last bottle until she was also able to nurse. Thank God for lactation specialists. They clued me into this amazing thing called a nipple shield, and girlfriend took full feeds immediately. Like, doctors were pretty amazed she was nursing so well immediately. And so, the bottles went bye bye. Cause I had had almost 2 solid months of nothing but pumping and I. WAS. OVER. IT. All the suction, and the cleaning, and the feeling like a cow, and the stretched out nips, and the cleaning. And then the warming and the filling up the bottles, and the finding a bottle that would work for her, and THE CLEANING. NOPE. No thanks. Plus, every time someone tried to give her a bottle, she'd slap it out of their hands. She had opinions. So, she simply went every where I did. And nursed wherever, whenever she liked. And I never had to clean pump parts and bottles again. Which was glorious!! And due to the cosleeping, I was not sleep deprived, and the hubbs didn't have to get up in the middle of the night, so he could still function at work. I didn't even bother buying bottles for little man. He's never had one, never will. And by the time girlfriend was a little over 1, she was drinking out of cups. All of this was made possible by my next lazy tip:

Moby/ ERGO/ Babywearing! Here's the thing. I used to work out. My nickname in my family was muscles, cause when it came to moving furniture, lifting heavy things, doing hard work, I was your man. And although I would rather get myself waxed everywhere than ever lift weights again, I'm still fairly strong. But. It is simply asinine to carry around a 20 pound effing infant car seat, along with a 30 pound diaper bag and then a baby. Why would anyone do this to themselves? That's a lot of shit to cart around. And those car seats don't fit well in anything- not grocery carts, not high chairs in restaurants, barely in a car. So I lived in a moby wrap until the babes were big enough for the Ergo carrier. They were never fussy because they were being held, so we never needed pacifiers (lazy lazy lazy, who feels like dealing with that drama when it's time to give them up), if they were hungry, the boobs were right there for the taking and usually no one noticed that I was constantly feeding my kiddos, I had my hands free to get shit done (and I really really love to make lists and get shit done....it's kinda my thing), and because I refused to pump and bottle, I never had to carry around bottles and paraphernalia in my diaper bag, making it significantly lighter. Lazy lazy lazy win. The kiddo witching hour when you're trying to get dinner together and baby just wants you? Wear em. Just be careful. We had a mishap with little man that makes me a million times more careful in the kitchen. But on the plus side, both my kids love to play in the kitchen and help. We'll talk about this more in another section. And for all the folks that told me my kids would never learn how to crawl/ walk etc....they both walked early. Oh joy of joys. I would have preferred lazier kiddos, quite honestly. We also didn't have to deal with strollers ever. Crowded places, airports, malls, parks....no strollers. So much easier to navigate. Until I got pregnant with little man, and by about 18 weeks wearing girlfriend was just no longer an option. but by that time she loved to walk, and the stroller was an ok option for her when she was (finally) tired. One less thing to pack and carry around. Because lazy.

Baby proofing. Never fully understood this concept. I mean, gate off some stairs for a while. But padding every. single. thing. in your house? That sounds like work. And so, we didn't. We just straight up didn't. We stuck those plastic thingies in the outlets, because electrocution. We kept the door closed to the cat room, cause kitty litter doesn't make a good snack. Other than that? Nope. We have a stone hearth and fireplace. No padding, and no accidents. I was a bit nervous with girlfriend, cause she was my first, but she always just seemed to know it was there and slowed down before she got there. I thought perhaps it was because she was a girl (although her fearlessness at the playground and the launching herself off of all the things would suggest that had nothing to do with it). But little man has also never had an issue with it. Actually, I happened to watch him one day, and he naturally slowed himself down before he got to the fireplace (right around 7 months old), then used it to stand himself up, looked around, and got back down. They seem to have a natural awareness of what's around them, not only in their home but everywhere else as well. I'm inclined to think it's because we didn't pad down the house like a Little Gym, and they had no choice but to figure it out.And we also don't use plastic for their eating and drinking needs. Glasses and metal utensils and real plates.  Girlfriend broke one plate, once. While unloading the dishwasher when she tried to pick up too many at a time. Lazy. And winning.

Food. Ah food. The bane of most parents' existence. Look it up and you'll find 24 million blog posts and articles about just how sucky it is to feed little people, and their tyrannical demands. And we don't want to go all medieval on them, so we feed them pre-cooked shit shaped like dinosaurs and sigh. Once again, laziness prevails, and it seems to be working for us. I didn't feed them solid food until they were a year old (little man I started a little earlier, but he didn't really do anything but taste a little until 11 months). I one time made a puree for girlfriend. It was stupid. She just wanted what was on my plate, and couldn't care less about the orange colored ridiculousness I was trying to give her. So. I stopped making separate food. Some of her first meals were pasta bolognese, moussaka, chicken mole fajitas, and spinach sauteed with garlic and olive oil. She loved it, she ate off of our plates most of the time, while sitting on our laps (cause who needs to always have a high chair with them? ain't no one got time for that). She ate everything we gave her, and she pretty much still does. She obviously has foods she doesn't prefer (she no longer likes the moussaka with the goat cheese bechamel topping, she just wants to eat the meat and eggplant mixture). But there's food that I don't like so I'm not gonna sweat it. Not only does she loooooove to eat, but she loves to cook too. She flips her own eggs and pancakes, she helps cut stuff up (with a special knife from pampered chef that doesn't cut skin but can cut through most veggies and fruits and sometimes even chicken). She knows how to properly salt and pepper food, and she is OBSESSED with dipping things in olive oil. Screw ketchup, she knows the good stuff. We've never ordered off of a kids menu for her, and don't ever plan to. In California, we tried to give her chicken fingers once, in Disneyland. She took one bite, spit them out, and hasn't tried them since. I find that hilarious. And little man the other night chowed down on Serbian meatballs, a yogurt cucumber dill salad, and roasted potatoes. Start em early. And they both are really really neat eaters. I don't know if it's because I waited to feed them, but I'm always kind of shocked by the lack of mess I have to deal with. And I firmly believe this was because I was too damned lazy to cook them separate food. Seriously. Who has time for that? That's nonsense. If children in other countries can eat food with flavors and spices, why can't ours? Do we have different stomachs that I don't know about? It's like some doctor somewhere said American children are only capable of eating bland food (enter Gerbers and the jars of nasty) and suddenly everyone panics and only feeds kids things that no one else would ever eat because it's disgusting. Either way, it's working for us. And for some reason, they don't really snack, either. Unless I am. And sometimes I share.

So, the daily grind. Little miss can entertain herself for HOURS. Coloring, drawing, somehow figuring out by the time she was 2 1/2 how to write all of her letters, and then writing her name without either of us having taught it to her....I still don't know how that happened. She builds lego towers and train tracks, and takes care of her babies, and races cars. All without mommy's assistance. Granted, the first year plus of her life was spent being carried around by me. She had a rough start and she loved to be carried and I loved having her on me. No swings, no seats, no play mats unless she was really showing interest in being put down, and then the playmat lasted about 5 minutes. And there was no dropping her off in the nursery at church. And she only had a babysitter a total of 5 times in her life so far (my mom, and some really close trusted friends). Yes, that means we didn't do date nights. Out. We would put her to bed and have date nights in. (but we also waited for 5 years of marriage before having kiddos so we kind of expected that there'd be a period of time where going out wouldn't happen so much). She was mommy's girl for sure, and not surprising, considering again traumatic first 2 months of life. But she's quite the independent little thing now. And little man is shaping up to be the same, but he WILL go to the church nursery, and he's happy letting anyone hold him. He's also pretty chill about just hanging out playing in the play kitchen, or playing Godzilla to all big sister's train tracks and towers. They give me time to get stuff done while exploring their surroundings. No crafts provided by me. No setting up games. No whining. No boredom. And somehow, learning has happened. Again, if I figure it out, I'm gonna find a way to sell the method because seriously!! I had zero to do with the learning of all the letters. Maybe it was from watching SuperWhy??  Lazy and loving it.

Yes, my kids sometimes watch TV. not all that much (unless we're sick, in which case, bring. on. the. disney. movies.) We cancelled cable, and I LOATHE all things Disney channel, Disney junior, Nick junior. The shows don't have much to offer learning wise, and I hate commercials, and I'm still trying to figure out why Caillou is even a thing. We watch Superwhy, I tried Sesame Street but she never took to it, and unfortunately she did take to Thomas the Train. I have a really hard time not rolling my eyes while this nonsense is on (Gordon is a real asshole), but it's only the Christmas episode that's on Netflix so I suppose I'll suck it up. Anything else they watch are Disney movies....because mamma likes to sing along. And here's the great catch- if your kid doesn't ever watch commercials, your kid will NEVER ASK YOU FOR SPECIFIC TOYS EVER. This has been the greatest discovery in the history of my household. Her favorite thing to do is grab a gift bag, throw a bunch of crap she finds around the house in it, and excitedly proclaim "Happy Birthday! I made you a present!". This makes my mommy heart happy. And also not hearing about how badly she wants a certain toy is glorious. Lazy, non cable having, not having to watch nonsense I don't like, goodness.

Napping. She stopped at 2. And before that she only napped on me until she was about 18 months old. This is not as awful as you think. She napped, I took walks. She napped, I went to the mall. She napped, I went to "play dates" where I'd sit and chat with friends and drink coffee. We weren't chained to the house. Same boat with little man, naps on me. But then girlfriend and I can go to the park. Or the children's museum. Or hang out outside and paint. Lazy.

Speaking of parks....she climbs all the things. all the time. No fear. And I've never once told her "oh honey you can't do that". I'm always a little shocked at the number of parents who do. If your kid wants to give it a try, why would you say no?? Maybe stand there and make sure they don't fall off of it, but why discourage their bravery? If they think they can, they probably can. The few times she didn't want to try something, she was the one who approached it, looked at it, then said "nope" hopped down and found something else. Trust their instincts. We're all wired to survive. Let em do their thing. Just like I've heard kids ask to try their parent's food, and they say "you probably won't like it." Self fulfilling prophesy, people.

Cleanliness. My kids seems to really enjoy being clean. I find this amusing and awesome. Since day 1, I've given the kiddos showers with me instead of baths. I have no time or patience for filling up a tiny tub that a mini, wet, squiggly thing is going to work their hardest to get out of, just to get me and the entire bathroom wet in the process of cleaning my child. Then, I have to scrub out said tub? No. Thank. You. While they were itty bitty, they would lay on a blanket outside of the shower door while I showered, then I'd bring them in to wash them. As they got a bit older, they moved into just hanging out in the shower with me, then me washing them. Girlfriend started washing herself when she turned 3 (don't worry, I still check to make sure all the bits are clean). We can get up and out within 45 minutes, including showering all 3 of us and doing my hair and make up.  Lazy.

Along with the attachment parenting, I started reading up on a more gentle discipline than any I had heard of or thought to use. Mainly, it's just an understanding that your child is a person with feelings just like any person, and respecting those feelings, and working with a toddler's natural curiosity and abilities instead of fighting against them.  Part of it is always comforting them when they ask for it, even when you don't necessarily think they need it. I find a well-timed hug, kiss, and snuggle will tame the tantrum that's brewing. I give her choices a lot- should we brush our teeth or brush our hair first. As long as she gets to choose, she does what needs to get done with no yelling from me. And she started dressing herself around 2 years old. Buttons still trip her up a bit, but girlfriend can pick out an outfit, put it on, including shoes, brush her hair and brush her teeth. And loves doing it.

We have time-ins, instead of time outs. I never liked the idea of sending them away if they've done something wrong. So, we go together to a spot to sit and calm down. We take some deep breaths, and she tells me why she's mad/ sad/ happy and screamy, etc. These work so well for her. Usually, she just wanted a bit of my attention all to herself, and that gives her the opportunity. Do we have those days where everyone is yelling at everyone? Of course, I have children. Does she have days of some defiance which makes me want to put my head through a wall? Yup. She's 3 1/2. But I feel like those "terrible 2's and 3's" weren't ever really a problem.

Alright, so the truth is, the lazy parenting is our pay off now for the work we put in early on. It's true, I missed out on some nights out because I had a nursling  that I wasn't willing to leave at home. We didn't, and still don't, have that many date nights....maybe 2 a year. But it's just a season and we actually both really enjoy taking the kiddos with us out to dinner or just out and about. It's considered extreme by many, but setting up that foundation for what we have now? Lazy priceless.

Our Valentine's Date

Date night watching a movie. We wouldn't want it any other way.


Loves!

Feeling all the feels; a toddler story

Spending a month away from your home and your stuff and your hubbs can bring out the worst in you and your kiddos. Obviously. And there's no better way to test this theory than to spend that month in hot and humid. And so, we did.

And here are some lessons I learned, some tidbits I discovered about myself and my babygirl, and some other general nonsense that I find amusing.

First up. Babygirl does NOT fair well without daddy. 2 weeks with him gone made her a sobby mess almost every morning. So we decided that we'll have to cancel our plans to fly to Jersey for Thanksgiving and stay through the Christmas season while daddy travels back and forth. It does nothing but frustrate everyone involved. And also? If I come home to more piles of cat vomit again, there's a good chance that they will not survive.

But this brings me to my next point. The sobby mess. The LOUD sobby mess. I felt awful that my poor brother got stuck in a room with no door and missing a wall, and subsequently had to hear the screaming and crying all early. And I realize that it's not a pleasant sound. especially when it lasts for what seems like forever. But I'm SO grateful that she expresses her emotions. I'm beyond thrilled that she feels comfortable enough to just let it rip. And so. I don't stop her. I did try to take her into a different room so she wasn't waking the dead, but I did not try to shush her, or tell her it was all ok (because for her it wasn't), or tell her to quit her crying before I give her something to cry about. I let it roll. And I hugged her when she wanted a hug. And I just sat in the room when she wanted her space. And when she said "I want take a calm", we took a few nice calm breaths, and then we talked. And then she went about her day. Was it loud? Yup. Was it probably annoying to those around us? Yup. Did I care? Maybe a little, cause I don't like causing other people distress, but I'm finding as a parent that I care a LOT less about others' perceptions of me when it comes to my kids. And, let me be clear, no one suggested I should, but I am SO glad that we decided not to just smack the emotions out of my child. Because I'm sure from the outside, it just looked like I had a defiant child who was having a tantrum because I told her no or she couldn't have something that she wanted, and her screaming was perceived as just being an undisciplined brat. I know that's what I would have thought prior to having children. And I would have added "they should just spank her". My my my, I owe a lot of people apologies for my judgey-ness pre-kiddos.

And that's the thing. You, dear outsider, have zero ideas what my child is going through at that moment that you see tantrum. That you see "defiance". So you, dear outsider, don't get a say in how I tend to that child. And I'm sorry that your sensitive little ear drums just couldn't handle the 5 seconds you walked by us and witnessed chaos. But trust me, the 30 minutes that I dealt with it were no picnic. But let me assure you, I'm not about to do something I don't believe in to my child because you don't like her behavior at that moment.

Which brings me to my next point. "No". There's not one other word in the English language that your kiddo can say to you that gets your blood boiling like this word. But. I love it. Maybe it's cause I have a girl. Maybe it's because of my inability to say this word to people my whole life. Especially when it came to boys, and what they wanted to do, and what I didn't want to do, but didn't ever feel like I had the power to simply say NO. To say NO to the jokes at work that offended me, or the constant barrage of IM's, phonecalls, following and cornering me into talking to you because you really wanted to, even though I repeatedly tried to avoid you at all costs. NO to the date that bought me dinner so thought I owed him something.

Stay with me here.

Do I love the fact that my daughter says "NO" to me as often as she does? Of course not. I'm a parent, and I want her to know that she has to listen to and respect me. HOWEVER. I want her to use that NO. I want her to wield it's power. Often. I want her to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that she is allowed, ENCOURAGED, to say NO when it makes her uncomfortable. Uneasy. When it's her body. When it feels wrong, even if it's a trusted adult telling you to do it. Use that NO. Yell it if you have to. Even if it's to daddy or I. Sometimes, she says no just to try it out. Says no, but does what I ask. And sometimes, she says no, stands her ground, and I realize that she's right and she can say no. I pour her a drink and she says NO because she wanted water, not milk. It's her body. She's right. Bring on the no.

If someone could tell me where the switch is to flip on and off your perception of when you're able to use NO when you're 3, then by all means, I won't let her say no to me anymore. But since that doesn't actually exist, I'm gonna go ahead and let her say it. I don't ever want to take that power away from her. Don't get me wrong. When we want her to do something, and she says no, we get on her level, look her in the eye, and explain that she needs to do what we're asking (put away toys, don't spit water at your brother, etc). And she usually does it, as most toddlers usually do. But I don't tell her "You're not allowed to say NO to me". Because that's not what I want for her. And it could just be my sensitivity and issues with it that lead us to parent this way. But either way, it's how we roll.

And her volume. Oh, her volume. When she gets excited, this girl can out-scream a shrieking monkey. It's loud, kind of hilarious, and at times, a bit much. But I'm not about to kill her excitement, her pure joy, for the sake of my ears. So we roll with it. And we roll NOTICEABLY, because loud. But, when you take a look at her face (and little man's face, because of course he got the screamy gene as well), and you see the pure elation. Well, you don't ask them to dampen it down. You just can't.

I started writing this post about a week after we got home from Jersey. That was at least a month ago, if not more. It felt angry then. And like I was desperately trying to justify my parenting, our behavior, our perceived errors. So I held off. But now, rereading? I love it. And I'm sticking with it. Because it's how we choose to parent our kiddos. And it's working for us. Quite well, actually. I love that they feel all the feels, because I never did. I always wanted to be perfect. I hate confrontation. So regardless of how I felt, I buried it down and pushed through. Never talking to anyone about my true feelings, sometimes getting really frustrated, and finally exploding until the point of no return, which resulted in ended friendships and lots of tears. I'm working on this. I'm working on finding my voice, for the sake of my kids. But I'm making sure they always know they can use theirs.

Loves!

I did NOT see that coming....(aka a "normal" birth and it's outcome)

Asher Jet arrived on March 29, 2014 at exactly 38 weeks, weighing 6 lbs 15 oz and scoring a 9 on the apgar scale. Everything was planned and scheduled- arrive at hospital at 6:45 am, head into surgery at 8:00 am, have a baby, and begin life with 2. Neat and tidy. No drama. No (visible to me) blood. No NICU (well kind of. in a twist of irony, they had no more rooms left and we were sent up to the rooms in the NICU unit. I *might* have started crying as they walked us to our room and I spotted all the kangaroo chairs and isolettes...). Everything was "normal". So why was I such a hot mess???

We're almost 11 weeks in, and the fog has finally started to clear. Life is becoming routine-ish. And I can look back on those first weeks with some clarity and hindsight and see that I was COMPLETELY unprepared for this scenerio. I spent 9 months holding my breath, waiting for the trauma to occur. for the other shoe to drop. We had a miracle kiddo at home. a 29 week survivor. a thriver. we were pushing our luck with this second baby. we would not be so lucky this time. this would be our payback for getting too greedy, wanting too much. TWO healthy kids at my age with this body's history??? we should have just been happy with 1 and left well enough alone.

and a BOY? what did we hear over and over again in the NICU. They had a phrase...weak little white boys. because boys tended to not fare as well. little girls were feisty fighters. little boys? not so much. and we were having a boy. PANIC.

and how on earth could I possibly devote my time to being in a NICU with this baby when I had a 2 1/2 year old at home. one that falls apart when I'm not around?  I know that the time I spent with babygirl made all the difference in her recovery. how could I not devote that same time to baby a? but how could I desert my babygirl?

HOW CAN I POSSIBLY MANAGE THIS?

Friends, and even hubbs, would tell me everything will be fine. This baby will stay in. the last time was a fluke. you're well-monitored. my mom understood. but I don't think even I knew how much I was panicking. until I exhaled. with this huge (to me) hungry and ready to nurse newborn with fully developed lungs and zero issues.

and so our relationship really began. because let's be honest. I was not exactly warm and fuzzy about my pregnancy. I loved him. but it was so very different from babygirl's birth. that was survivor mode. fierce mamma bear. THIS GIRL WILL LIVE AND THRIVE. we were attached from the second I peed on that stick and we still are. at 29 weeks I thought I lost her as I sat in the bathroom pouring blood and begging God for a miracle. That's a bond that I'll never have with anyone else.

so A's birth? calm, peaceful, flawless? what the hell was I supposed to do with that? I was expecting the worst for those months. and now? now what. here's this tiny little man who I tried not to get too attached to during pregnancy just in case. and now he was here. all ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes of perfection. and I loved him. but it was a slow simmer, not a boiling over.

and so we started to build a bond. and those first weeks. those were HARD. because babygirl was having a rough transition. mommy was gone for the first time EVER. and overnight. she loooooves her nannie-eat-face, but it was not mommy and she was OVER. IT. and I just wanted to comfort her. but I have this baby. who I also love. and who needs to eat. and his cries are more urgent. and hers are a little heartbroken. and I had to choose. mom guilt doesn't begin to describe it. I was never NOT there for her. and he deserved the same. but he was fine and she is still my little miracle. and I felt really alone.

so we struggled. and her temper tantrums were epic. and mommy kept breaking down. and baby took it all in stride. I did all the things I had with babygirl- we co-sleep, I carry him everywhere (cause I make em needy and he doesn't like being put down), we nurse on demand. but I felt a little bit like a fake. an imposter. because that level of urgent love....that wasn't there. a friend suggested I might be having a bit of postpartum depression, and part of me knew she was probably right. the other part fought like hell against believing that. because I don't fail at things. I don't "have issues". I am able to handle it all. I can do it all. and do it by myself damnit. it's my MO. always has been. it is not possible that I was in need of help.

and so I continued to breakdown. cry. a lot. wonder how I was ever going to manage with 2 as joyfully as I had with 1. I knew I could handle it. I just didn't know if I could be happy doing it. I was slowly, oh so slowly, falling in love with A, but only when babygirl wasn't around to see it. late night, all night feeding sessions. moments when she was with nana or daddy. I could smother him in affection without seeing that look on her face. that look which was partly "hey lady where are my kisses and hugs" and partly just my imagination. because she could not have been happier having a life size doll to tend to, to nurse, to diaper, to hold.

I think the MMR vaccine issue started to clear the fog a bit. I really had to sit down and think about the health and well being of BOTH of my children. We could wait longer and risk baby getting measles. or we could trust that her digestive system was now grown and healthy enough to not be negatively affected by the shot. Here's that story, and she's fine. And I started to realize that having 2 wasn't going to break my love for her. But I needed to step it up for him.

My hormones finally started to let up a bit around week 6, and babygirl seemed to finally fully accept that she had company, mommy wasn't going anywhere, and life could resume almost as normal.

And I began embracing life with 2. loving on him a ton, even in front of her. appreciating all the little quirks of this tiny new man in our lives. finding I could maybe not go food shopping as often by myself with both of them (that is now a full family affair), but I could do most of the other things and enjoy them. snuggle with babygirl while he was sleeping in the moby. still have our dance parties, and play cars and castles. be patient MOST of the time. definitely not all of the time. when all God's children are screaming and crying mommy starts to lose it.

But here I am on the other side of what most likely was a bit of depression. feeling a tinge of guilt about not jumping in full force with a fierce love bomb. but knowing that our little courtship is working out quite nicely and finally appreciating the quiet, calm way he came into this world.

And his constant smiles melt me.

loves!

It keeps me up at night...

This is not an easy post. This is what I think about when the lights are out and the fam's asleep and the noise of the day has finally turned off. It's also something I'm not sure I'll ever know the answer to, or if I even want an answer to. Just some ramblings that I thought I'd share...because I can't be the first mom to struggle with this.

If you're new here, I am the proud mamma of a preemie babygirl. Born 10 weeks early due to placental abruption, she flew into this world dramatically and forcefully, and that's just how she likes it. She's now almost 23 months old (about 20 months adjusted age), and learning new things every day.

But that's just it. She's not learning the same things that other kiddos are learning. Some of that is most likely my fault- I don't do a lot of learning based play with her. We don't go over our colors, our letters, our animals. We throw tennis balls, we dance wildly to Pandora, or just the music in our heads. We tickle fight. We giggle. We cook dinner together. We clean together. She wears all of my underwear around her neck. And anything with handles is her new purse that she prances around with. We have naked time, and she attempts to pee in her potty (sometimes just holding onto it as she sprays down the floor). We read the books she picks out. Usually more than once. She tries to dress herself, which a lot of times ends up looking like this:

we take walks. we hang out with our buddies. we have long conversations- not quite sure how but girlfriend connects with me without having to know the words. I just know what she's thinking, feeling, wanting. And she gets what I'm saying to her.

She's finally picking up on more words, but she's not really using them that much. She repeats words when we ask her to, and she follows directions fabulously. But outside of the CONSTANT babbling and play acting, she feels zero need to say real words to us. (Of course, minus the HI DA!!! that the hubbs gets every time he walks in the door).

And therein lies the rub. The one that gets me all insomnia like. The voice in my head that has been telling me since college when I worked at a summer camp for special needs children and adults, that it was practice for my life. The quite insistence in my gut that I not get her vaccinated, because I know that she'll be changed forever by it. The something in my heart telling me that babygirl is just gonna be a bit different than her buddies.

Kiddos far younger than her have mastered some of these speaking skills that she doesn't have/ use yet. And I know that every kid works at their own pace. I really do. But that doesn't stop the voice.

And I know that she is doing things now that most kiddos her age don't do. Life skill type things. She knows how to bathe herself. She buckles herself into everything completely unassisted. She stops and really THINKS about everything- the mechanics of it. She does NOT stop to think about climbing anything and everything- but as far as how things work, she's a mini hubbs- the little engineer.  She knows how to dress herself, shoes on correct feet and all. Independent doesn't begin to describe it. Mamma gets shooed away a lot.

And yet. I'm not enrolling her in every let's-learn-our-colors classes like I thought I would. I'm not taking her to speech therapists. Please, she hasn't even seen her pediatrician since January. Part of it is the different studies I'm reading on all the different methods of parenting around the world. The one that caught my eye? Primary School starts at age 7 in Finland. And they "learn how to learn". It's a fascinating article, and one I hold close to heart, since that seems to be the strategy I'm going with currently.

I thought it might just be laziness on my part (and maybe it partly is), but the time I have to spend with her I really don't want to be forcing her to learn things that I feel will come naturally at some point. Having said that, I now of course am a little worried that words aren't coming quite as naturally as I thought they would. And since we've done heavy attachment parenting, I thought maybe she's not talking because all of her needs are being met so she doesn't need to. Should I ignore her so she'll ask me for things?

It's scary, this whole parenting thing. Like, I haven't said all of this to ANYONE (hubbs and mom included). we can call it internet bravery. Sometimes the scary is less when typed. But sometimes the scary is all I can think about.

So. I read. A lot. And sometimes it's so comforting. To see that other cultures don't put SO MUCH into milestones. And their kids turn out just as smart. And sometimes I feel like a bad parent who has failed my child. But then I see how happy she is pretty much always and think I must have done something right.

This ball of busy will simply teach me more about God's timing. A lesson I'm not so sure I wanted just now, thank you very much.

My teenie preemie will someday learn to talk. I'm almost sure of it. When she's good and ready (stubborn little thing from day 1). And she might be a little behind her buddies. But she might catch up. And if she doesn't? Well, we'll tackle that when the time comes. I'm learning to take it in stride. I'm learning to deal with that voice. I'm sleeping a little better, sometimes.

Loves!

Are you STILL nursing??? and other craptacular questions

Let's start here. I believe that every parent knows innately how to parent THEIR child. This post is not written to make you feel defensive/angry/guilty/shouty/any other "y" emotions. Attachment parenting is not the norm in this country, hence I get loads of questions on the hows and whys of what we do. This post is meant to answer those in one sweep. Am I providing data backing up our choice? Yup. Does that mean that I think that how you raised/are raising your child is wrong and harmful to them? Nope. I'm pretty sure you can find data showing why your way is better. We'll let babygirl tell you all about it when she's in therapy 20 years from now. I kid. In all seriousness, in my circle of mommy friends that I interact with on an at least weekly basis, I'm the only one who went whole hog on the attachment parenting train (baby-wearing, breastfeeding, co-sleeping). I for sure have peeps that do parts of it. But on the whole, I'm a loner. And my friends' babies?  They're all awesome. Happy, well-adjusted, smart. So again, please do not send me hateful comments saying that I'm a monster and that you swear your kid is just fine even though you did x, y and z. I believe you. But this is what MY CHILD needed. So. We good?  Good. Here goes.

If you don't know already, here's the quick glimpse into babygirl's arrival. My pregnancy super sucked. I started nesting at 2 months. We, of course, registered for everything under the sun. I had no idea I wouldn't be a "normal" parent. Her room was all set for her. At 29 weeks and 4 days, I rolled over in bed to discover a crap ton of blood gushing out. I was rushed to the ER (I *may* have threatened the very young EMT in the ambulance to FIND. THE. BABY'S. HEARTBEAT. which he did).The doctor saw me and said "if it's ok with you, we'd like to take her". all calm like. Me? Not so much. I wasn't even 7 months pregnant yet. I looked at the hubbs, and said "I guess...." And 14 people flew into that room and rushed me out, as I threw my cell phone at the hubbs and yelled "CALL MY MOTHER!!".

God had His hands all over babygirl. The doc had ordered general anesthesia, but in the room they decided to go for an epidural (which is MUCH safer for baby). I did vomit the entire time they were operating but I guess I was able to stay still enough. Unbeknownst to me at the time, she was out for a good minute before she made any sound. Poor hubbs knew what was going on, but he didn't let me worry. I only got to see her little foot before they rushed her to the NICU, and I sent hubbs with her while they put my insides back together. About an hour later, they stuck me in a recovery room. Apparently, I'd had a placental abruption- where the placenta is ripped away from the uterus, usually ending in fatality for both baby and mom. Hubbs passed out on the couch, there was no tv, no nothing, and I was high as a kite and had my phone. So I of course announced her traumatic arrival on Facebook (my mom could cheerfully choke me for that one).

I was not allowed to go to the NICU until I could feel my legs. Not cool. She arrived on early Friday morning, August 26th, at 1:26am. I didn't get to see her until much later in the day on Friday. And I was only allowed to grab her little hand through the incubator for a short period of time. My mom miraculously caught a flight out of Jersey (where the state was under a state of emergency for a hurricane, making leaving almost impossible) and got to meet babygirl Friday night. Back in my hospital room, the nurse came in, threw a breast pump at me and said "get started. she needs you". And I did. I pumped like a crazy woman because if this was the ONE thing I could do for her, I was gonna ROCK at it.  I couldn't keep her in- this was the least I could do. Saturday morning at 5 am, the nurse comes in to rip out the catheter (TMI??) and I jump in the shower. Get dressed. And we go downstairs to the NICU, where I camp out for the next 2 months. My docs were a little pissed at me for being MIA, but whatevs, they found me eventually. Something primal came over me. I stopped taking any meds for pain on Saturday morning, and on Sunday, they discharged me because they couldn't find me, again. Every morning, at 10 am, we met with every. single. person. that had something to do with my daughter that day to hear the plan, hear the progress. And everyday, I just cried and asked "But when can I hold her?" Turns out Day 5 was my lucky day. They finally were able to remove the intubation (which she kept trying to remove herself, feisty little thing) and that meant it was safe to hold her. Only for a few hours at a time (the outside was a bit overwhelming), but it was heaven. And I swore to her that as soon as I could, I would hold her every second of every day. And before I even knew what it was called, I had signed on to attachment parenting.

We did kangaroo care (skin to skin) for hours and hours every day- as long as her little body was able to function outside of the incubator. For those periods of time that she had to be back in there, I would pump and research. and sometimes remember to eat. I researched all of the scary things (vaccines, what's in our food supply, NEC- an awful preemie bacteria that when not attended to soon enough, liquifies baby's insides, the pros and cons of formula fortification). Things you can't unread. We made it clear that formula was not an option. I didn't care how much weight they thought she should be gaining, she would have breast milk and I would allow some human milk fortifier. but no formula. I'll tackle the vaccination aspect in another post, as it is long, involved, and gets me raging.
And we had visitors. A friend of mine, Michelle, came bearing some earthy gifts. She gave me a Moby wrap. I had no idea what this was. Turned out, it was the GREATEST GIFT KNOWN TO MAN (more on that gem later).  I read a 600 page preemie book, front to back. I should not have. The nurses made it clear to ONLY READ THE SECTIONS THAT APPLY TO YOU. I did not listen. Mistake.  I read the entire La Leche League book. I also read a LOT of Dr. Sear's parenting books. Which is when I first heard the attachment parenting terms. And I made some decisions.

Still her fave place to snuggle- in my sweatshirt. And I told you she was feisty.
I know it's shocking. SHOCKING. But I'm a leeeetle bit Type A. You could call me a perfectionist. You could call me obsessive. Some might even call me anal retentive. You would be correct. So it shouldn't surprise anyone that when we made the decision to do attachment parenting, I DID attachment parenting. And when we decided to breastfeed? There was no discussion of bottle feed because preemies have a hard time at the breast. I was going to FEED FROM MY BREAST come hell or high water.  (some of that may have been a laziness issue...who wants to go warm a bottle in the middle of the night??) So, once the feeding tube was removed, I allowed daddy to give babygirl one bottle of breastmilk. Then I made it clear that this child was not going to have a bottle again until after she was able to take a full feed from me. How do you know it's a full feed? Apparently, since we were dealing with a 3+ lb baby, you weigh her before and after to see how much she got. (and that didn't mean that I was starving my child...it meant that the feeding tube went back in- she started being able to handle 1 feed a day without the tube, and gradually worked up from there). 

With the help of the MAGICAL nipple shield, my preemie started BREASTFEEDING. that sentence? makes me sob. SOB. It was the one thing I knew I wanted to do parenting-wise before babygirl arrived. And it was the one thing that I was told by many nurses that she most likely would not be able to do (little jaw muscles weren't strong enough, they said. she'll be in the hospital for a lot longer if you don't just give her a bottle, they said.) But this girl? This girl was all about a boob, from day 1. That's where her head ALWAYS went when I held her. (Btws it wasn't every nurse that said that. Many did. But there were some cheering me on!) Eventually, when daddy tried to feed her with a bottle, she literally slapped it out of his hand! To this day, anything resembling a nipple (sippy cup, bottle, pacifier) she shuns. She'll even pull it out of other kids' mouths and throw it on the ground. This secretly makes my heart happy.

In between all of our little victories (she POOPED!!  she's in a CRIB not an incubator!!), there was the apnea. TERRIFYING. Apnea is when babygirl decides to forget to breathe. When her oxygen saturation numbers get too low, cause of the not breathing, machines go off. She turns grayish. goes all limp noodle. sometimes can't wake herself out of it. They told me to pinch her foot if it goes on for too long. Crying means she's breathing. awesome. And it's one of those things that actually gets worse before it gets better. There were 2 times when she needed oxygen blown by her face to get her to breathe again. I can't even handle remembering that. She had apnea fits on me A LOT. Blessing and a curse. She was always monitored, so they obviously would know if it was happening while she was in her crib, but because it was on me, I was able to see the signs without needing the monitors. The one time she did have an episode after we left the NICU,  I was putting her into the moby when she went all limp noodle on me. Thank God it didn't last very long and I woke her right up out of it.

And of course, there was the reflux. Oh, the reflux. That kid could puke with the best of them. She couldn't sleep on her back because of how bad it was. So they gave her a crib that could be tilted up. No help. They gave her a wedge.

Ninja baby. She had to be strapped into it because of the angle so she didn't slide off or fall forward. Still no help. She only slept on her stomach. And since she weighed next to nothing, she had no problems rolling over onto her belly to sleep, no matter how many times the nurses tried to roll her back. She would wake up crying. So. I decided to kangaroo her at night too. I'd try and sleep for a few hours (thank God I was able to sleep in her room, which was awesome) and then when she woke up around 1 or 2, I would grab her, put her in my sweatshirt, recline in the kangaroo chair, and we'd both fall asleep. Happy. Her breathing was better. Her reflux didn't bother her. I slept better- not on edge wondering if she's breathing- yes even with the monitors.
And finally, the day came where we got to take her home. EXCITEMENT. TERROR. RESPONSIBILITY. No more monitors. If she stopped breathing, it was all on us to notice. And she was still soooooo tiny. She hadn't quite hit 5 pounds when we were discharged. We were told not to have her in the carseat for too long, or in a backpack, or in any seats that weren't reclined enough (her windpipes could easily be kinked shut, like a garden hose, at certain angles). THANK GOD FOR THE MOBY!!! It kept her in the kangaroo position, skin to skin with me, and I had both my hands free to do what I needed and still hold babygirl all the time. For the next 14 months, no one ever got to see my cute outfits- that moby was on 24/7.

We discovered that feeding her was basically all I would be doing for a month or two. It took about 45 minutes for her to finish a full feed, and she needed to eat every hour and a half. So I got to read a lot more books (and catch up on crap reality tv). I read Mayim Bialik's book on attachment parenting. I have loved her since "Beaches" (and "Blossom" of course), and I loved her book even more. It made me feel less crazy about the way we were bringing up babygirl (which earned me lots of questions from family and friends, and which I was feeling a little bit guilty about- was I doing this whole parenting thing right? was I really spoiling her?)

Our life in a nutshell:
Hold babygirl.
Nurse babygirl.
Shower with babygirl- highly recommend. She LOVES water, I got to shower every day with her right there with me, and now she tries to wash me!
Hold babygirl while she naps.
Cook and Clean with babygirl in the moby.
Daddy holds babygirl while mamma pees by herself for the first time that day.
Sleep with babygirl on me, while I'm propped up with a husband pillow.
Repeat.

We did leave the house. A lot actually. She was easily portable. She slept on me anyway, so it didn't matter where we were. As long as I had the moby on, we were good to go. I eventually figured out how to nurse her in the moby too.

And during this time, and still, I hear "Just put her down." "She'll never figure out how to self-soothe if you don't put her down." "She'll never leave your bed if you don't move her to her crib now." "You're spoiling her." "We just let ours cry, and they finally figured it out." "Does she sleep through the night yet (at 3 months, 6 months, 1 year, now...)?"

Yes, the questions were said in love, by people who genuinely love us and care about our well being (although there were some random strangers who also gave me their opinion, as if I gave a crap). Did that make it any less crazy making for us? Nope. Did I cringe when I heard the start of one of these? Every time. Did I sometimes want to punch people in the throat when they wouldn't just leave it alone? Abso-freakin-lutely. I wasn't mad about it all the time. We get it. People were genuinely curious- they had never seen a baby raised this way. And that was fine. It got less fine when it was said with the "knowledge" that we were ruining our child (thanks random lady in the store. I'll spoil her? Is she produce? Will she bruise if handled too much??).

So here's my take. Babygirl is only a baby once. For a short period of time in her life. She had a traumatic beginning. If she needs some cuddles, or to be nursed, or to be held I'm gonna do it. She's smart....but she's not tricking me into holding her. Trust me, girlfriend likes to run around on her own. If she's asking, she genuinely needs me. Do I believe that she is capable of self-soothing? Meh. Maybe a little bit. Her panicked cries beg to differ. There are times at 34 years old I just want my mom.

So, I did some more research, cause hey why not. And I've been finding some really interesting things. Again, this is not an indictment on other parenting methods. This just happens to support the one I'm using.

Dangers of Crying It Out Article- Honestly, I've been going back and forth on whether or not I should include this here. There is some really really interesting information here. But she's a tad harsh. I should appreciate that, as I have that same tendancy. Ah well. Let the chips fall where they may. Please don't hate on me.

Dr. Sears- basically I read all of his books. I appreciate his style. Not judgey, just lays out the facts. His vaccine book was a life saver. And now that we're approaching 2, his discipline book has also been a HUGE help with a certain stubborn someone I know.

The Other Baby Book- love this book too. I just recently read this one, and it just helped re-affirm all that we've been doing.

So why do I need to re-affirm, you ask? Well you people just keep asking "questions". You know, things like "Isn't it about time she sleeps on her own?" "Don't you think when she can ask for it, she's too old to nurse?" Perhaps veiled comments is the more appropriate term.

Let's now answer all the questions that you know you wanted to ask but (maybe) didn't:

Do you ever have date nights?
We've had 2 since she's been born. And we're good with that. She comes out with us all the time. We waited 5 years of marriage (9 years of being together total) to have kids. We knew it was going to change our dynamic. Now that she's older and not nursing as much, we'll probably have more.

Do you ever have sex if she's in your bed?
It's funny. A bed is actually NOT required for sex!  She falls asleep, we go off and do our thang.

But your husband hates it, right?
Actually, the hubbs loves it. He works. A LOT. and travels for work. A LOT. He loves having nighttime cuddles with babygirl. There have been many a night where I wake to find she has sprawled herself across his throat. I have no idea how it doesn't choke him, but it is adorbs.

Aren't you afraid you'll roll onto the baby?
Nope. Not once. Hubbs maybe was a bit fearful of that at first, but after the first night, it was all good. I was more afraid of her stopping breathing and me not being close enough to hear it. And I cannot say enough how much easier it is to soothe a baby in the middle of the night by simply turning your body to let her nurse and fall right back to sleep. I was not a sleep deprived new mom, and that was awesome.

Aren't you afraid that if you always hold her, she'll never learn to sit up/crawl/walk?
Nope. when she was ready, she would do those things. I was told that Hindu women (I think...my memory is not as good as it used to be) carry their babies for the first 6 months of their lives, never letting their feet touch the ground because they believe that babies are sacred. I thought that was really cool- and it was a nice departure from the usual "why don't you just use a stroller" comment. oh, and babygirl has consistently scored not only above her adjusted age, but also above her actual age in her gross motor skills evals, so clearly carrying her had zero effect on her movement.

Why don't you just use a stroller?
1. I can't figure out how to open it.
2. Why on earth would I lug around a lot of extra weight and crap with me when I could just have her snuggle on me and do what I need to? I do this thing, a lot, where I imagine worse case scenerios happening and what I might do in those instances. And of course I've pictured taking babygirl for a walk in a stroller, and having someone come and snatch the stroller, and her from me. Yup. Ridiculous. But you'd have to work awfully hard to get her out of the moby before I beat the ever-loving snot out of you.  She's been in a stroller 3 times. None of those times worked well when I was there.
3. Watch this. Anna, this one's for you. Cracks me right up.

Why are you still nursing? Isn't a year enough?
Enough for who? She loves it, I love it, she's getting all the nutrition and more that she needs, the World Health Organization recommends bf'ing for AT LEAST 2 YEARS! It's the best way to keep her healthy, it clears up EVERYTHING- I had an eye infection and it cleared it up in 1 day. The doc was amazed....and then a little weirded out when I told him how I healed it. And no. I did not squirt it directly into my eye. That would take some serious skill.

Isn't she gonna be too dependent on you?
Yes, for a little while. Cause she's a baby, and that's how they work. People think it's so strange to attend to their needs, but how on earth can we expect a tiny person without the capability to even hold up their own heads for very long to soothe themselves to sleep, to occupy and pacify themselves, to only be hungry every 3 hours cause that's when the book said they should be hungry, to sleep through the night for 8 to 12 hours (I know many adults who still can't do that). I just can't imagine hearing that teeny voice call out for me, and not immediately finding out what it is she needs. She's 21 months old now, and there are times that she'll play by herself for hour long stretches. Then she'll run up and give me a hug, or want to be held or nursed for a minute, then runs back to terrorizing the cats. She makes solid eye contact with everyone she sees (and sometimes follows with a very enthusiastic "HIIIIEEEEEE"). She loves playing with other kids. She recognizes and loves Nana, even though she lives 3,000 miles away. Girlfriend has a knack for spotting nurses. I'm telling you, SHE JUST KNOWS. She LOVES them! Sure, she has her clingy phases. Like every other toddler. But she is not hurting for social skills.

Danica McKellar (Winnie Cooper from "The Wonder Years") was recently interviewed because, GASP, she breastfed her child until he was 2 1/2. When asked about attachment parenting, and if she was afraid her child would be spoiled she said cuddling and closeness is one thing. “Doing everything your child wants you to do right when they want you to do it is another thing.” Perfectly stated. For the record I should state that I wanted to make sure I got the quote right after watching the interview. The website I found it on? "Oh No They Didn't!" I. just. sigh.

Which leads me to: WHY SO MUCH CRITICISM? There are a million and one ways to do everything in this world. Why on earth do people have SUCH a hard time dealing with attachment parenting styles? There is some straight up HATE out there for the women who dare to raise their children this way. From the celebrities who take heat for it, to the daytime talk shows that pit extreme parenting styles against each other, to the cover of Time magazine taking a beautiful moment between mother and son and throwing a chair and some camo pants in there for shock value- see here.

Maybe if we all just accepted and moved on, we could take the best parts from each different style and use them as we see fit. Maybe we can just congratulate each other on making it through another crazy day (whether that day is spent at home or at work or both) instead of cutting each other down for the choices being made. Wouldn't that be nice?

And here's my little bonus. It may have something to do with how close we were to losing her (if we had gone to the hospital where I was supposed to deliver, there's a good chance she would not have made it). But I find that attachment parenting has made me a million times more patient- which, if you know me, is a miracle. I'm more thoughtful about my words and actions around her, and more thoughtful than I thought I would be when it comes to meeting her needs, even when they seem completely ridiculous.  And honestly? I never want to be away from her. Call it obsessive, but I cannot bear to be without her. So this attachment thing? It works for us in a big way. FOR US.

So that's our story. Yes we still co-sleep. Yes I still wear her and never use a stroller. Yes I still breastfeed and plan to until she's good and ready to stop. No I don't think it's weird. No I don't think I'm ruining her. Yes we will use this same method if we have another.  Yes you are more than welcome to ask me questions about it, as long as you are not silently judging me and/or telling me about this friend you know who used this method and now her son is a serial killer. That is all.

Loves!