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!

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!

Parenting is hard y'all...constipation, vaccinations, and a newborn

Yup. It's been too long.

After pregnancy was done kicking my ass, we brought home a baby boy. Under VERY different circumstances than babygirl. Little man was born at exactly 38 weeks via planned c-section, weighing 6 lbs 15 oz and 19.7 inches long. They were able to totally follow my birth plan, including putting him directly on me after pulling him out. He was held there by daddy and a nurse since I was trying my hardest not to puke everywhere. (That came the rest of the day, as I held and nursed him while simultaneously puking into a measuring cup. FAAAAAANtastic.) And we left the hospital after 2 1/2 days.

He is the mini Serbian that's for sure. Spitting image of daddy, except for the butt chin.

He's been surprisingly easy. He lets anybody hold him (although he fusses if he's put down, but since I'm all attachment parenting that works for me), he sleeps all the time, and was an excellent nurser right from the get go. I SOOOOO get how lucky I am. Babygirl was (and still is) high needs, so having a baby that's easy going is completely new, and welcome, territory.

And here's where the hard comes in. She LOVES "baby Asher". Wants to hold him everyday, wants to kiss and hug and play with him. Talks about him a lot. She does NOT love that mommy is occupied with him. She gave me the cold shoulder in the hospital and didn't really unthaw until we were home for a day or two. EPIC. MELTDOWN. We did our time-in (I take her into a different room and sit with her as she melts down and wait for her to calm down and talk to me....it's amazing how well this works for her). She screamed for about 20 minutes. Then she looked at me, with just the saddest eyes that I will NEVER forget, she screamed, and then she crumpled. As did I. We both started sobbing, she threw herself into my lap while I just stroked her hair and told her that I know and I'm sorry that I wasn't spending as much time with just her, and we fell asleep. And she's been good with me ever since.

BUT.

She started holding in her poop. I don't know if it's because she remembers how much it hurt when she got all stopped up right before baby came and now she's afraid to poop, or if it's just that toddler thing where new baby affects potty. But girlfriend strains to hold it in. Among prune juice, flaxseed oil, smoothies with spinach and yogurt and berries and chia seeds and coconut oil, apples, pears, figs, cherry tomatoes, olives.....this stubborn little thing STILL HOLDS IT. And then we have to start to coach and cheer her on when it's obvious she's trying to hold it. "Push em out, shove em out, waaaaay out!". 

Yes, we have actually said that. In cheerleading fashion.

Then, she decided that she also would start screaming in pain while I tried to brush her teeth. Prior to baby, this was one of her favorite things to do. She even had a "practice" toothbrush she carried around with her so she could brush them all the time.

And the tantrums. Everything is now asked for with a whine and a whimper. Cause baby gets attention when he cries so hey why not? UGH. Her pediatrician said it was fine and he would be concerned if she weren't affected by his arrival. But I just CAN. NOT. Nana is leaving today and hubbs went back to work today, and I am just tired. I'm hoping that once we get into some semblance of normal, she'll start to get back to her old self. Until then she will continue to bust out phrases like "kill me now" like she did this morning (she *may* have heard mommy utter this under her breath while dealing with the brushing of the teeth).

And on top of the fun that never ends, there's a measles outbreak in Seattle. Frickin measles. If you read my blog, you may know how I feel about vaccinations. I don't think they're all bad, but I DO think that they give WAY too many at one time and at WAY too early an age, especially for someone that was born premature and is too tiny and may have digestive system issues, putting her at risk for vaccine injury. My gut instinct was to keep her from getting most vaccines until she was at least of school age, and to avoid some of them altogether (she will NEVER get the flu vaccine, and neither will anyone else in my family). I did 2 months of nonstop research while she was in the NICU, reading all the good, the bad and the ugly. I read several books, including my favorite, the Dr. Sears Book on vaccines. But since she doesn't go to daycare or school I thought I could avoid making this decision until she was 5. And then I got pregnant.

At little man's first pedi appointment, our doc, who is very vocal about which vaccines he thinks are garbage and which he feels strongly you should get, and who is also very pro alternative scheduling, asked if we were going to get her the MMR vaccine since measles are in the area. And hubbs and I have had a lot of conversations, all tear soaked by me, about the issue. We called my in laws, one was a surgeon in Serbia and now does alternative medicine therapy, and one was a pediatrician, and asked their opinion. I read more. I prayed. I cried. I prayed some more. I felt guilty about the whole "herd immunity" thing....and then I felt guilty for feeling guilty because my daughter could very well be one of the kiddos that had a too sensitive immune system to handle a vaccine like MMR. Because regardless of the debunked scientist regarding the autism claim, there are still PLENTY of parents who now have children with unalterable health issues due to the MMR vaccine. Seizures, brain injury, digestive health issues, etc. And I was NOT about to jeopardize her health because of someone else's child. Her health is number one on my list.

Except now we have a newborn as well. A newborn who I would prefer did not catch the measles. Well crap. So what's worse? I'm not concerned about babygirl getting the measles because she's never even had a fever, so I know she would be ok, although it would be unpleasant. But I'm pretty sure a newborn with measles is not a situation we want.

So I cried some more. A lot. Still crying actually. And we decided to do it. To vaccinate her. She's 2 1/2, she's been really healthy, and not only are the measles here, but we're flying to Jersey over Memorial Day weekend and they hit on the east coast too.

So nana and I took her today. She did not even flinch when she got the shot. No crying. Nothing. Just calmly ripped the band aid off of her leg and resumed playing with the dolls in the room. And so far, she still seems unaffected by it. My stomach is in knots, but I'm praying everything will be just fine.

These decisions. These parenting moments. These bumps in the road that were not expected. These are all really really hard. And torturing me. I'm an extremely visual person, and I like to jump to catastrophe (in my head). For 2 weeks, all I could think was that we would lose our sweet, happy, feisty, stubborn as hell babygirl to a vaccine that I didn't want her to get in the first place. Luckily, it looks like I was all drama for no reason. But it tore me up. And it's only gonna get worse. Because she'll eventually be a teenager and I can dream up all sorts of awful scenerios that I can't control and LOSE MY FREAKIN MIND on a daily basis.

Awesome.

Maybe these decisions will be a bit easier with little man. Less drama all around for him.

But probably not. Once a drama queen and all that....

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!

Why I'm Irritated...today

I'm kind of over it. The "everyone is being so honest so I'll jump on the negativity band wagon" thing that's been happening on parent blogs all over the country lately. I'm all for honesty...but can we celebrate everyone without making anyone else feel like they must be crazy, or abnormal. Maybe it's just me, but I feel a little like I CAN'T be honest in social media because then I would be making others feel bad. and that ticks me off.

So what am I talking about? 

It's posts like "Why I dread breastfeeding". "Why I regret being a SAHM". "Why what you do doesn't matter so you shouldn't be happy in it"...and on and on. (Yes. Theses are all actual blogs that were on Huffington Post today)

I'm sorry that it didn't work out for you the way you hoped it would. I truly am. But should I feel like I'm a freak show because I love it? Because I feel like I was called to do it? Should I keep quiet about my day and my thoughts because it makes you feel bad? AND.  Don't you think maybe, just maybe, your "honesty" about how hard everything was/ is is scaring the crap out of new parents?

We all know it takes work to be parents. Not a shocker. We know it takes work to breastfeed. But weren't there some moments you loved? Wasn't there SOMETHING outside of guilt that made you keep on keeping on? Even a little? I'm all for not making people think your life is perfect, and that everything came easy. But COME ON. Every day for you was hell. You were simply a dairy. You had no impact on your (now grown) children's lives because you raised them instead of working outside the home. No one appreciates you at all, ever. You are a shell of your former self because you chose to be a mom.

These statements are not exactly helpful either.

Everyone has different struggles in parenthood, and in general. But I notice that the only ones being plastered everywhere only contain the downsides. Is it just cool now to thrive in your suffering? Misery loves company so let's all band together and not give any credence to the possible positives of the role that YOU CHOSE.

What would happen if I wrote about how I dread the day babygirl no longer wants to breastfeed. Or how I LOVE cooking for my family- I look forward to it on an almost daily basis. How I love keeping a clean house. How, regardless of the temper tantrums and crankiness, I wouldn't trade this job for anything else in the world. How uber-obsessed with my daughter and hubbs I am. Of course, I'll add in there that it took some serious work.  Work to get her to sleep by herself for naptime (19 months to be exact). Work to get her to breastfeed. It took months of a nipple shield, it took months of daily biting, sometimes drawing blood. It took sometimes not going out without babygirl because she refused to take a bottle. Some days I ask the hubbs to just pick up dinner cause I can't even think about coming up with a meal. Sometimes, clean laundry stays in those baskets until we've reworn everything in there and I just have to wash it all again. Sometimes there's just a lot of crap on the floor, and I still don't turn on the vacuum. 

BUT.

I wouldn't trade it. Not a second of it. Not for anything in the world. And I don't think my life is meaningless now. Do I have the same impact now as I did when I was a teacher? Nope. Does that make me sad? Not really. Does everyone feel this same way? Nope. Is that ok. ABSO-FREAKING-LUTELY.

I'm going to share with you now the biggest lesson I've learned since becoming a parent. I'm telling you this has SAVED. ME. And it's this:

KNOW going into it.

KNOW that you're not going to sleep like you used to. For the next few years at the very least. Accept it. You'd be amazed how much less irritated you'll be when you're woken up on an almost nightly basis for however long. Cause you expect it.

KNOW that your life is going to look drastically different than it did before kiddos. You'll be more open to it if you just stop fighting it.

KNOW that there are going to be days when ZERO gets done. And be ok with it. Cause you just CREATED A HUMAN BEING and shit got real.

KNOW that there will never be another thing on the planet that you love as much as that tiny little person in your arms.....and there will never be another thing on the planet that drives you bat s*** crazy like that tiny little person in your arms. That doesn't mean you love them less. It means you're human and all of those references about toddlers just being tiny drunk adults?  They're true.

KNOW that if you plan to breastfeed, your boobs will HURT. In the beginning, you might not be prepared for it. Because everyone talks about how beautiful it is. But the beginning? Just remember, it passes, fairly soon. Just hang in there, and ask all your breastfeeding friends the secret to non-cracked nipps. Everyone has them. (Mine are putting breastmilk on them, followed by coconut or olive oil).

And please. PLEASE. Take everything you read, including this, with a grain of salt. Everyone's experience is different. If someone tells you everything is absolutely perfect- they're lying. If someone tells you that life was hell and there are no redeeming moments to be found- they're lying.

Look for the folks in the middle. Look for the mommy blogs that resonate with you. Trust me, you'll find, and then treasure these women that you don't know who are living your life and your issues that you immediately bond with. (I have my phone on me at all times when I'm getting babygirl down for a nap since I have to hold her for about 20 minutes after she falls asleep before I can put her down- and it's GAME ON for mommy blog time).

I may not have the standard yoga pant mommy uniform (I JUST CAN'T DO IT), but I'm right there in the everyday messes, tantrums, and beauty of life with a toddler. Perhaps I'll invest in some yoga wear if more babies come along. But probably not. I'm from jersey and I've gotta represent.

Loves!