tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33372504655993986002024-02-20T09:03:26.558-08:00Post Mommypostmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.comBlogger82125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-3885557443486766582013-08-25T22:36:00.002-07:002013-08-25T22:36:37.058-07:00Homeschool Planning-- also known as, realizing you have no idea what you're doingI am in the midst of planning my homeschool year for my two older boys, and I must say started out feeling a little overwhelmed! I'm so excited about making this year great, but it's easy to get bogged down by the wealth of information out there. I don't want to over-schedule or attempt to do too much--but I also don't want to slack off and miss out!<br />
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Tonight, I did a ton of research in my final push to finalize our homeschool calendar. When I started, I was fairly confident that I was almost done planning. But, God help me, I traveled down the internet rabbit hole and ended up feeling vastly unprepared!! How can I wrangle all this great information and all of these wonderful projects in to a workable curriculum?<br />
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<b>Start with the big picture.</b><br />
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I started my planning by writing out a list of learning goals for each child. To help determine my goals, I used common core standards, as well as picking the brains of a few teacher friends. These goals are definitely big-picture, with no real detail. For instance, under goals for reading for my first grader, I wrote, "reading at a first grade level." Not so specific, but it makes a good starting point for my next planning step.<br />
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<b>Define each goal in detail.</b><br />
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After drafting a list of learning goals, I took each one and defined it further to make it more tangible. Adding details to each goal helps you grasp what it really is you want your child to learn. "Reading at a first grade level" becomes "reads some materials independently," "understands phonics concepts," and "shows comprehension of reading materials." As you add definition to your goals, you'll start to better understand how to make those goals in to lesson plans.<br />
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<b>Choose materials to help reach your goals.</b><br />
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My next step was to create a table of my goal details and explain what texts and materials we will need to reach that goal. For reading, I wrote things like "reading together once a day," <i><a href="http://peacehillpress.com/the-ordinary-parent-s-guide-to-teaching-reading-paperback.html">The Ordinary Parent's Guide to Teaching Reading</a> </i>(my text of choice), and "reading worksheets." At this point, my brain started descending from the clouds and I began to feel like I really understood how I was going to get our homeschooling goals under control!<br />
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<b>Develop a calendar.</b><br />
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Just like I started with a big picture with our learning goals, I began with a monthly calendar, defining smaller goals for each month, and then each week. I use a <a href="http://www.notw.com/products/books-home-schooling-class-lesson-planner-144879/?adid=gBase-ProductListingAds&gclid=CPeK9ZywmrkCFUZyQgodGxMABQ">homeschool lesson planner</a> that helps me when I get to the weekly level; it has a table for each subject and you can write your assignments for each day by subject. I rarely plan things for every single day, and honestly I don't care which day the lesson gets finished, but it's good to have a rough idea of what should happen each week so you make sure it all stays on track.<br />
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<b>Organize materials and get ready to learn!</b><br />
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Now that the calendar is done, the lessons are (somewhat) planned, and I've chosen curriculum, it's time to get everything easily accessible for daily lessons. Last year, I started creating "weekly workbooks" for my children, with all of the worksheets for the week in one binder so they know exactly where to find them. This is also nice for record keeping, as it shows week-by-week what we accomplished. I've seen a similar concept used by subject, with a journal for each, but I love the binder because it keeps everything from the whole year together in one spot.<br />
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I still have some refining to do, but I'm very excited about how far I've come in planning this year's curriculum in a pretty short time. I can't wait until the planning is over and it's time to do some learning!<br />
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<i>How do you plan for a new school year? Let me know if you've got any stellar tips!</i>postmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-85404899068901052412013-08-02T09:00:00.001-07:002013-08-02T09:00:56.269-07:00Post Mommy, Post-SAHMThis morning, as I was scouring the internet for good sources of information on homeschooling, peering over an endless array of colorful pinterest pages and mom-blogs, I realized I was yearning for my own long-neglected blog project. I came over for a nostalgic peek at my last few posts, and what I found was one part heartbreak and one part inspiration.<br />
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My heart ached as I glanced over the projects and activities I had been doing with my children when I last posted here; so much in our lives has changed since then that I couldn't suppress my longing for this "simpler" time. These last few posts were one job loss, one exhausting move, and one pregnancy ago; we find ourselves in smaller living quarters with more children and considerably less income. As a consequence to this more complicated situation, I have returned to work--and thus have a lot less time to devote to things like<b> </b>paper mache and rainy day treasure hunts. As I looked back, I was astounded by what I've given up and what I've failed to provide for my children in the last year.<br />
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For as long as I've been a parent--probably even longer--I have had certain goals for how I would raise my children (as all of us do). My perfect-world version of myself bakes regularly (kids covered in flour and smiles), lets the kids get messy without breaking a sweat (think fingerpaint and mud, head to toe), and always has time to "be a monster" or play hide and seek on a whim. I want to be a fun, engaged, accessible parent. For a long time, I was just that.<br />
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Time and circumstances have changed how I parent, and I would argue that the changes are not for the better. I have less time, less energy, and less patience than ever before. I can feel the strain it puts on my children, too--they are more short-tempered with each other and more apt to whine of boredom than to pick up their crayons and draw me a picture. My lack of time has severely impacted our lives, and I can't stand it!<br />
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Last year, we made the decision to homeschool our children. At the time, it seemed like an excellent idea. I was, after all, practically homeschooling them already with all of the activities we were doing, and I was thrilled by the concept of being their teacher. Now, I'm struggling just to make them workbooks for the week and finish their daily reading lessons with no time for special projects or fun activities!<br />
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(And don't even get me started on how I feel like I'm letting down my younger two!)<br />
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There is light at the end of this dark tunnel, however. I didn't come here just to whine about how difficult it is to be a working mother of four. I was inspired by looking back, too--inspired to find ways to return to being this better version of myself. How can I get back there? Especially with my newfound lack of time?<br />
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I know there are ways. And I intend to find them.<br />
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My first goal is to make time at least once a week to return to the simple life. I do have <i>some</i> days off, after all! I'd like to stop treating them like days to cram in as much stuff as possible and start treating them like days to forget I ever went back to work. This will take a tiny bit of extra planning (not my strongest suit), but I'm fairly certain it can be done.<br />
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My next goal is to find a way to stop working (for an employer) again. I have ideas on how to make this happen, but it's still in the early lightbulb stage. Ideally, I would be able to earn money doing something I love without being a slave to a timeclock (the American Dream, no?!). I just can't shake the feeling that this is what <b>needs</b> to happen. I need to be home with my children and have time for them!<br />
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I've always lived my life by the credo that <i>you can do anything you put your mind to</i>. So now I need to prove it to myself. Here's to plotting and planning and making dreams realities. I'll be sure and stop by to share my journey with you. For now, it's time to make the best of my last 24 work-free hours!<br />
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<br />postmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-955535513705852832012-04-03T09:06:00.002-07:002012-04-03T09:07:31.259-07:00Paper Mache BasketsI've been wanting to try paper mache for a while, but I always found a reason we couldn't do it. Last week, though, we ended up with a bunch of balloons from my sister's baby shower, and I kept looking at them thinking...we should really use those! So, last Wednesday, I bit the bullet and ripped up a bunch of old newspapers for some paper mache!<br />
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There are a few different ways to make the paste for paper mache, and a quick Google search will help you see all the options. I went with the cheapest, easiest method that didn't require me to buy anything: flour and water.<br />
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<i>Paper Mache Paste</i></div>
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5 parts water</div>
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1 part flour</div>
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Combine ingredients in small saucepan and boil until thickened, about 3 minutes.<br />
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<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">The paste kept well overnight. It was in a coffee can and I just put the lid on it to keep it until the next day.</span>
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My first thought was just to cover the balloons with no real end product in mind, but when we started, I had an idea to make them in to baskets instead. I drew a line on each balloon to show the children where to stop covering them.<br />
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This project took a total of 4 days: 3 layers of paper mache, and a final day for decorating.<br />
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The first two layers were made of newspaper. To make it easier to paint, we did the final layer in white computer paper. (This step could definitely be skipped if you don't want to waste brand new paper.)<br />
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You need to wait until each layer is completely dry before starting the next. That's why we just did a layer per day. If you started in the morning, you might be able to get two layers done in one day if you wanted to.<br />
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Cover the balloon twice for each layer (so, I guess technically that's two layers....but whatever.)<br />
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After your final layer is dry, pop the balloons and start decorating!<br />
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I was honestly surprised that my boys weren't more in to this project. They liked the gooey paste for a few minutes, but got bored with the task of actually covering the balloons. My friend's 8-year-old daughter, however, loved it and helped me complete all 4 projects once the boys lost interest.<br />
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<i>Side note: I'm so glad I always save all my coffee cans. We used them to hold our paper, hold up our balloons, and keep the paste. SO much easier than needing to use a bunch of bowls.</i><br />
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I was thinking baskets...the kids were thinking weird alien-head helmets.<br />
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We used paint, markers, stamps, glitter, and even my husband's airbrush to decorate the projects.<br />
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Everyone's project turned out great, and it was a relatively quiet hour while they worked. I call that a win.<br />
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This little one was my favorite. The balloon didn't come out of the inside when we popped it, so it's all purple inside:<br />
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When the paint dried, I used a hole punch and some ribbon to add a handle to each "basket."<br />
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This was so fun, even if the younger ones didn't get excited until we got to the painting part. Definitely something we'll be doing again!<br />
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<br />postmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-62673881175457166772012-03-31T20:24:00.000-07:002012-03-31T20:27:11.648-07:00Silence! Learning in ProgressThe wind blew furiously and rain pelted us so hard I almost decided to pull the car off the freeway. The clouds were dark and ominous, and I think I even heard a hint of thunder in the sky, but still my two older sons decided to roll down their windows. I gritted my teeth in the front seat, annoyed. <i>If it were a sunny summer day, they'd be complaining about the wind</i>, I thought to myself. I started to ask them to roll their windows up, but when I looked in to the rear view mirror, I couldn't help but stop and smile. The boys were having so much fun! They giggled and screamed at the wind and remarked on how wet the rain made their fingertips. One would roll his window partway up and they'd notice how it made a helicopter sound and made their ears feel funny. <i>They're learning right now</i>, I realized. It might be a little obnoxious to me, but maybe it's not something I should immediately stop them from doing. They're discovering things about air pressure and weather and physics that they won't be introduced to formally until much later in life. Should I really make them stop, or should I hold my chin up and let them have a little fun?<br />
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<b>Annoying to you is amazing to them</b>.<br />
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Yeah, sometimes annoying is just annoying. But often, that thing your 2-year-old keeps doing that is driving you nuts is <i>teaching </i>her something. She's interacting with her world and figuring out how it works. Understanding that banging two blocks together makes a certain sound or singing the same nonsense words over and over again are not simply activities meant to try your patience. Your child is actively discovering and learning, every minute of every day--and as long as no one is actually getting hurt, maybe you should just let them be.<br />
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It's hard to step back and realize that sometimes, especially after a long day when you've already had enough. I'm also not saying that no matter what, you shouldn't ask your children to calm down or be quieter. I eventually made my boys roll up the windows, but I did my very best to give them a while to discover first. Does a few more minutes really hurt all that much?<br />
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<b>Just land your helicopter, take a deep breath, and enjoy the moment.</b><br />
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Embrace the crazy. Let it unfold, and keep thinking about how much they're learning. We live in a generation of helicopter parents, constantly standing there ready to stop their children from doing something they shouldn't. We need to spend a little less time hovering and become lifeguards, watching from the sidelines and ready to jump in when necessary, but otherwise enjoying the view in peace and quiet.<br />
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<b>Treat all moments like learning moments.</b><br />
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Because they are. And some day, your children will thank you for the freedom you gave them to explore.<br />
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<br />postmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-45831787914901881282012-03-30T16:17:00.003-07:002012-03-30T16:17:21.671-07:00Six Word Fridays: Offeringmakes me think of sacrifices made--<br />
a burnt, a sin, a peace--<br />
things done for a special purpose.<br />
given humbly but not always taken:<br />
the choice is there even so.<br />
with open heart and engaged mind,<br />
a gift laid out with love.<br />
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<br />postmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-44809683094729251632012-03-29T14:39:00.003-07:002012-03-29T14:39:33.087-07:00Rainy Day Treasure Hunt<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
April showers have come a little early around here, and I've got an extra child for half the day because school lets out early all this week. </div>
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Rainy days + lots of children = extra attention required to keep them happy!</div>
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So I whipped up a quick treasure hunt to give them something to do on this wet day.</div>
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It all started with a note. I told the kids a pirate stopped by and left a note for them. Then note contained clue #1, which led them on a hunt through the house to find all of the clues and finally the prize!</div>
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I included a few activities to integrate a little of our "schoolwork" in to the activity:</div>
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The kids had to finish this worksheet to get the next clue.<br />
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I asked the children to count the red dots on this paper, and choose the correct location based on their answer.</div>
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I "hid" the letters of the word "bath" on this coloring sheet. They had to find the letters, color them, and then work out what word it was to find the next clue.</div>
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Finally, they found their prize! As promised, there was something sweet (a Jell-O No-Bake pie), something new (an unopened board game we hadn't tried yet), and something fun (Perler beads they always ask to play with that I rarely let them actually get out).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizjZreqPyviefAAeacHhjXSpk2imQqaZDZSn-BY8RJHUhLlDtA7c2swG6vwPH2-g2AdsdPuStcyDSPJ6zEn76eRiif6_9a257U2p_FnX5VZz9qTEB90g3hLSjnVqU9OFwWJFHcAnLhnkg/s1600/IMG_0854.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizjZreqPyviefAAeacHhjXSpk2imQqaZDZSn-BY8RJHUhLlDtA7c2swG6vwPH2-g2AdsdPuStcyDSPJ6zEn76eRiif6_9a257U2p_FnX5VZz9qTEB90g3hLSjnVqU9OFwWJFHcAnLhnkg/s320/IMG_0854.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Checking out their "booty"<br />
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Finished peanut butter pie...a laborious team effort (getting 4 children to share all the duties without fighting is way harder than it sounds!)</div>
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The kids had tons of fun searching for their treasure, and the activity kept them busy for a couple hours. What a great way to pass the time on a rainy day!!</div>
<br />postmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-91644448069238045532012-03-02T11:46:00.000-08:002012-03-02T11:46:40.887-08:00Happy Birthday, Dr. Seuss!Today is Dr. Seuss' birthday, and we decided to celebrate today my adding a little Seuss in to our day's activities!<br />
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We started off by collecting all the Dr. Seuss books we have in our collection and reading a couple of our favorites (the day's not over, though--we'll get them all!).<br />
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Next, we played a little game I like to call "Pin the Hat on the Cat." Each child colored their own hat and cut it out. Then, I blindfolded them and let them do their best to get their hat on the cat's head! (I am, by the way, obnoxiously proud of my Cat in the Hat drawing. It's a Jennie original!).<br />
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After that, I let the boys watch the animated version of <i>Green Eggs and Ham</i> while I whipped up a batch of our own for lunch. The eggs are green from adding pesto. The "ham" is actually turkey because we don't eat pork, and I wrapped it around a pickle to add a little more green (and because I knew they were more likely to eat it that way!). </div>
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Hope you're all having a happy Dr. Seuss Day! I think we might make it a family tradition!</div>
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<br />postmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-4403210924212158242012-02-12T22:37:00.000-08:002012-02-12T22:37:15.774-08:00love is a sleeping boy behind my office chairI have no words to accurately describe how much I love my children.<br />
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They are an extension of me. I feel what they are feeling. I am utterly lost in adoration. All of these reflect a part of how I feel, but none of them really explains it. Even as much as I care for and love my husband, it isn't the same deep, undying connectedness that I feel with my children.<br />
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A large part of that connected feeling, that unshakable bond we share, is that I know how much they love and care for me, and how much they depend on my love and understanding every day of their lives. We need each other, and we take each other just how we are.<br />
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At least, that's how it feels most of the time.<br />
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Sometimes, we have nights like tonight, where one of the children and I just aren't seeing eye to eye. It usually involves too little sleep or too much energy or too <i>something</i> that's got us acting anxious and cranky.<br />
<br />Tonight was one of those nights.<br />
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While all of my children are loving towards me, my middle son Jacob is probably the most obvious about it. He follows me wherever I go, never misses a chance to sit in my lap, and tells me several times a day that I'm the "best Mommy ever." It's going to my head, seriously. I feel like a superstar with Jacob around.<br />
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But tonight? Tonight, he was anything but loving. Everything I said hurt his feelings. Everything I did made him angry. He screamed at me, he hit me. He stomped away from me, arms crossed and eyes full of tears.<br />
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My heart felt so broken tonight. And I felt so astonishingly hurt. I know he was just tired and cranky, and unfortunately we take out those feelings on those we love first. But it was so out of character and so extreme that I was shocked by it. I kept reaching out my hand to grab his, or turning to scoop him up for a hug, and then stopping myself before I did it. I was flinching, bearing down for another tantrum that would leave me feeling decidedly unloved. And, unlike <i>my</i> normal personality, instead of shrugging it off, I pouted.<br />
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I let my husband worry about holding his hand to cross the street.<br />
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I didn't turn immediately when he called out to show me something he liked at the store.<br />
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I walked ahead, tight-lipped and silent, while my family trailed behind, instead of going last to make sure everyone was still together.<br />
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Even when we got home and I sat down at my computer, I still felt myself shutting out the love I normally feel all around me at home. I felt my normally proud and happy heart hardening to a tiny pebble in my chest.<br />
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That's when I turned around and saw this:<br />
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My little Jacob, curled up in a ball, sleeping silently behind my office chair.<br />
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We were both being stubborn and silly tonight because we were tired, cranky, and hurt. But at the end of the day, our best comfort is still in each other--even if it's in silence and without the other knowing it.<br />
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I love you, too, Jacob. I love you, too.<br />
<br />postmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-62334390788634923422011-11-10T14:11:00.000-08:002011-11-10T14:20:58.709-08:00Change...oh, changeThere are so many things I'd like to change about my life, and even though I know the simplest way to do it is to start, I find it incredibly difficult to do so. I feel constantly overwhelmed by my life as it is, and adding a whole bunch of changes to my plate just seems undoable. I often feel like when I do try to change things, I get so much pushback from my daily life that I give up on trying.<div><br /></div><div>My best friend and I were talking today about things we'd like to change in our lives. Eating healthier, exercising more, winning the lottery and paying everyone's mortgages (lol). Talking about it is motivating, but we both have the same problems: busy lives filled with caring for children and husbands and trying to breathe somewhere in the middle of it all. But I think we both also know that these are excuses. We <i>can</i> change. It's just really, really difficult to overcome the (abundant) excuses we have to avoid it.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, we're going to try. And maybe between the 2 of us, we can keep each other accountable. Change can be unbelievably hard, but I think that if we're even moderately successful, we'll be even better off in the end. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm feeling inspired today by another friend, <a href="http://erinslessismorechallenge.blogspot.com/2011/11/is-our-environment-in-toilet.html">Erin</a>, who is attempting to eliminate as much waste as possible from her life this year. Talk about taking on a lot of change! I applaud her, and hope to be bolstered by her admirable endeavor. </div>postmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-85514949305166882292011-08-26T09:15:00.001-07:002011-08-26T09:17:06.875-07:00Six Word Fridays: Easy
<br /><a href="http://www.melissacamarawilkins.com/blog/category/six-word-fridays"><img src="http://www.melissacamarawilkins.com/sixwordfridays" /></a><div>
<br /></div><div>Chubby cheeks, blue eyes, loving coos...</div><div>It sure is easy loving you!</div><div>
<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgICVJoL6_zm1RsoEo4b3rpBxsJMWw0bo0EZHQQvedYxaCyUB7BfCPb5iGJQt7zQQOeglotDPzj9X7tNN2cnjTNjjeQ_Mu0vuMWiCUazOcL-BfXwyDRlYUkPioz_kQFWTCkM88q0dSepR8/s1600/IMG_20110826_084127.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgICVJoL6_zm1RsoEo4b3rpBxsJMWw0bo0EZHQQvedYxaCyUB7BfCPb5iGJQt7zQQOeglotDPzj9X7tNN2cnjTNjjeQ_Mu0vuMWiCUazOcL-BfXwyDRlYUkPioz_kQFWTCkM88q0dSepR8/s320/IMG_20110826_084127.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645199191314888514" style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a></div>postmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-60917865836337735292011-07-02T00:01:00.000-07:002011-07-02T00:31:12.497-07:00Things I wish someone had told me...<div>Becoming a mother is an amazing experience. I don’t think anyone would deny that it is life-changing and (mostly) beautiful. But, let’s admit it—it isn’t all cuddly babies and cute onesies. Motherhood is a challenge. There are things about being a parent that you don’t expect, and not all of those things are pretty. Unfortunately, you hear a lot about the awesome parts of parenthood, but no one is very forthcoming about the not-so-awesome parts. You know it’s not going to be easy, but do you really know why? I didn’t. Sleepless nights and dirty diapers were the only drawbacks I was truly aware of when I first became a mother. Here’s a few of the other harrowing surprises I discovered when I brought home my first little bundle of joy:</div><div><ul><li><b>Breastfeeding hurts. </b>It's bond-building, rewarding, and good for your baby. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean it's painless. When my milk came in for the first time, I was totally unprepared for the rock-hard boobs and cracked nipples that come along with the job. Take all the breastfeeding advice you can get, especially if you're easily frustrated (like me!). Don't give up--I promise it gets better. The pain is fleeting and totally worth it.</li><li><b>Your inner bitch will be exposed. </b>Becoming a parent reveals personality traits you never knew you had, and they aren't all pretty. Between unbalanced hormones and sleepless nights, it isn't surprising that you'll occasionally use your cool. There might be women out there who breeze through the newborn stage with their wits completely in tact, but I doubt it. So if you find yourself screaming about dumb stuff (<i>Why are the coffee mugs on the wrong shelf?!</i>) or contemplating ways to maim your husband (<i>Can't he pick up the baby just this ONCE without being asked?!</i>), please know you aren't alone. (Just try not to actually maim your husband...he <i>is</i> the father of your child, after all.)</li><li><b>Sleeping with your baby in the bed is cute—until they’re 5…</b> I actually *did* get this piece of advice before my first child was born--I just didn't follow it. And, honestly, if you're the kind of person wants to sleep with your baby in the bed, then you probably won't listen, either. Because it is <i>so precious</i> to have your little one snuggled in next to you. But, for the record, when he's five and still wants to sleep in your bed--I told you so.</li><li><b>Outside advice is annoying—even if it’s warranted.</b> Motherhood is a journey, and it's unique to everyone who travels the parenting highway. So even when your mother-in-law is telling you for the bajillionth time that your baby should be wearing socks, or your neighbor is recommending lullabies to stimulate your baby's brain, try to take it all with a grain of salt. Some of those tidbits might be useful, but at the end of the day, it's your child. Some mistakes are meant to be made. You'll learn and grow right along with that little bundle of joy (and that's exactly how it should be).</li></ul><div>Yep, being a mother is an amazing experience. But it's also life-altering, stressful, and intense. So if you need a few moments to cry or scream or punch a pillow, don't feel bad. Nothing worthwhile is ever easy, right?</div></div>postmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-12192053512883932742011-04-09T14:33:00.000-07:002011-04-09T15:07:38.995-07:00We did it!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjifAG5cvuNmb36To_uiNb1j5CERjY7W6ecGlLUMlvvPuhyKJygjgN4EAjzaMfiDrmYoVfGno6mesQ5FY1HBVT5QWdj6bIaWo0U2HGin-6OkYDZygfzKXGskXZzddvh9qo7XG_ZjDHZZO8/s1600/2011-04-06+21.57.00.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjifAG5cvuNmb36To_uiNb1j5CERjY7W6ecGlLUMlvvPuhyKJygjgN4EAjzaMfiDrmYoVfGno6mesQ5FY1HBVT5QWdj6bIaWo0U2HGin-6OkYDZygfzKXGskXZzddvh9qo7XG_ZjDHZZO8/s320/2011-04-06+21.57.00.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593708150196898786" /></a><br />Some months ago, I shared my birth experience from my first son, and I announced that I was going to attempt to have a VBAC with my third child. Both of my other pregnancies were C-sections, which made a VBAC an unlikely option.<div><br /></div><div>I would like to announce that despite the pushback from my medical team, who offered little support and appeared to simply be humoring me, that my son and I accomplished what my doctor believed I could not. My third child was born by VBAC on April 6, 2011. </div><div><br /></div><div>It wasn't easy, and I have to say that there were a few points where I was almost ready to throw in the towel. But I'm SO GLAD that I didn't. It was worth it.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was starting to worry because my due date was April 3, and there were no signs that I was going to go in to labor. What if the baby got too big? My last son had been 9 lbs 8 oz, and he was 2 weeks early. I started doing everything I read about to try to induce labor: walking, sex, spicy food, you name it. The only thing I read about that I didn't try, because I was just SURE that it wouldn't work was castor oil.</div><div><br /></div><div>And then, after a long day of self-pity because I was still pregnant and knowing the next day my doctor wanted to do an ultrasound to see how big the baby was, and try to talk me in to scheduling my c-section, I caved. The worst thing that could happen from castor oil was some scary bowel movements, right? So when my husband got home from work, I announced my plan. He thought the same thing I had thought: it really didn't seem like it would work, and would just make me uncomfortable. BUT PEOPLE, I WAS DESPERATE!! </div><div><br /></div><div>I took the castor oil at 7pm, and waited impatiently for something to happen. By the time I went to bed at 11, I was sure that it wasn't going to do anything at all.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then, at 2:30 in the morning, the pain started. I thought it was all just from the stool-softening effects of the castor oil--I really didn't think I was experiencing labor pain at all. But after several lovely trips to the bathroom (because yes, it REALLY DOES work for that purpose), I realized the pains were a little...regular. So I timed a few. Five minutes apart. Hmm. Then, there was the famed "bloody show." At which point, nearly giddy with fear and pain and excitement, I was truly convinced that I was having contractions. I danced around the house, stopping to breathe through contractions and wondering when I should wake up my husband. At 5:30, I decided he should probably get his butt up and start helping me get ready to go to the hospital.</div><div><br /></div><div>By 7 when my husband's parents came to take our other children, my contractions were 2 minutes apart. My mother-in-law was convinced the baby was going to arrive on the way to the hospital. I wasn't so sure of that, but I was definitely convinced that this would be my baby's birthday!</div><div><br /></div><div>When we got to the hospital, I was still only 2 cm dilated, but my contractions were strong and regular and I was 80% effaced. After an hour, I was already at a 4 and they officially sent me to labor and delivery. In this span of time, I had to "explain myself" at least 3 or 4 times to nurses and doctors who were curious why I wanted a VBAC. And none of them seemed terribly impressed with my reasoning. But I carried on, making sure I let them know that I NEEDED to be able to walk around this time, and I would NOT be put on a full-time fetal monitor. My nurse was amazingly helpful--even after my doctor said I "had" to be on the monitor constantly, she let me take it off for at least 20 minutes every hour so I didn't have to stay tethered to my bed. </div><div><br /></div><div>I easily got from 4cm to 7cm within a few hours, but then my doctor decided to break my water and my hall-walking rights were totally revoked. It was at this point that my labor stalled and I sat in the bed, zombie-like, fearful for each new contraction because they hurt so much while I was laying down (my back labor was atrocious!). My doctor was ready to throw in the towel--the baby's head hadn't engaged and I wasn't dilating anymore. My beautiful, wonderful nurse pushed so hard for me to continue; she was really my saving grace. </div><div><br /></div><div>I had been laboring naturally, and I had just decided to have an epidural. It was no one's choice but my own. None of the nurses or doctors had pressured me, which was kind of surprising...I was expecting to be asked constantly if I wanted one. But I was pretty sure I was getting too tired to continue, and asking for an epidural was my last-ditch effort to fulfill my VBAC dream. </div><div><br /></div><div>When my nurse heard my decision, she told me she was pretty sure it was all I needed to help me relax enough to go all the way. She was right. It took an hour for me to go from a 7 to a 10 after the epidural was administered. All of a sudden, it was time to push! I cried tears of joy when my nurse checked me and then clapped her hands and said, "You did it! He's going to be here soon!"</div><div><br /></div><div>The pushing was SO much harder than I was expecting, even with the epidural. To all of you ladies who do that part completely natural, I salute you. No one can ever know exactly what that means until they have gone through it themselves! I pushed for an hour, and my son was born at 9:30 pm, 19 hours after labor had started.</div><div><br /></div><div>Judah Patrick was born on April 6, 2011 at 9:30pm. He weighed 8 lbs 3 oz and was 21 inches long. </div><div><br /></div><div>I owe a very special thank you to my nurse, who stayed 3 hours past the end of her shift to stay by my side and make my VBAC a success. I also owe thank you's to my husband and mother-in-law, who coached me through my pushing at the end, which was definitely the part of the process where I most felt like giving up. </div><div><br /></div><div>Now that I've had a baby both ways, I can definitely say that VBAC is something every woman should try (as long as circumstances allow, of course). Birthing a child the "normal" way was special. It was empowering. And even though I love all my children equally, I think it formed that initial bond between me and my son slightly sooner that it was formed with my other two children. </div><div><br /></div><div>If you are planning on trying for a VBAC, be strong and fight for yourself. You will not regret it. (This is coming from someone, by the way, who ended up needing an "abnormal amount" of stitches following birth. So it's not like it was easy or something, hehe).</div><div><br /></div>postmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-73583425972004094522011-02-15T14:56:00.001-08:002011-02-15T15:13:53.505-08:00Spring FeverFor the past two days, a steady snow/rain drizzle has settled over the city, and the semi-warm, moist weather is getting me anxious for spring. It's been a long winter, and I'm ready to get out of the house. During this time of year, I always start to long for bright, sunny days full of chasing my children in the park and working in the yard. Of course, in practice, this doesn't always happen. But for me, even more so than the first of a new year, the beginning of spring signals a time for growth, change, and resolution.<div><br /></div><div>My children, of course, are starting to share in my anxiousness to experience fresh air and sunshine again. The rumblings of restlessness started a few weeks ago, and now that we're occasionally able to venture outdoors for good lengths of time, it's getting worse. They're bouncing off the walls (and off of each other), and it's adding to my strong desire to get out of the house. </div><div><br /></div><div>My plans for this year's springtime rebirth are twofold this year: truly dedicating myself to a successful garden, and truly engaging my two rowdy youngsters. It's time to get dirty as a family and inspire a love for the outdoors that will hopefully last them a lifetime. Our world is changing--and in many ways deteriorating--from our lack of respect for its resources. I'd like to impart this revelation to my children now so that their lives will be naturally molded to help counteract at least some of these ecological tragedies.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm hoping to truly engage my children in our outdoor adventures this spring. They are both getting old enough to understand and contribute to the gardening chores, and I can't think of a better way to sow a little bit of learning in with the dirt they love to play in. (Besides, with a brand new baby on my hip, I'm going to need all the help I can get!)</div><div><br /></div><div>Here's to springtime, and my sincere hope that she wastes no time in arriving this year. This spring, we're planting seeds of change in our hearts along with the carrots in our garden.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>Thinking about starting a garden of your own this year? <a href="http://www.lhj.com/relationships/family/raising-kids/extreme-housewives/?page=1"> This article</a> inspired me, and led me to <a href="http://www.rootsimple.com/">Root Simple</a> and the blog authors' first book, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1934170100?ie=UTF8&tag=homegrrevolu-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=1934170100">The Urban Homestead</a>. They've got some mighty extreme ideas about gardening and living a self-sustaining lifestyle, but don't feel like you need to tear out your entire lawn and buy a chicken coop. Just view it as a little friendly inspiration (and a lot of great advice) to help you figure out what works for you!</i></div>postmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-35903115141668360042010-11-25T07:12:00.000-08:002010-11-25T07:32:27.419-08:00Counting BlessingsThis year hasn't been easy. There's always something to be worried about--something that isn't done, something that can't be fixed, something that can't be changed. As usual, I spend a good amount of time worrying. It can be difficult to remember the good things sometimes.<br /><br />Lately, even though the worry is still there, an overwhelming sense of calm overrides it. Despite all the problems I have to deal with every day, there's one thing that is constant in my life.<br /><br /> I am blessed.<br /><br />I am blessed to have a beautiful family.<br /><br />I am blessed to have a loving husband who works hard to support our family, so I can stay home and help that family grow. <br /><br />I am blessed to have siblings that help me remember my childhood (and sometimes, to help me pretend I'm still a child).<br /><br />I am blessed by my aunt, who lets my children call her grandma and provides the comfort I sometimes need in the absence of my mother.<br /><br />I am blessed by my grandmother, still healthy and full of life (and opinions...).<br /><br />I am blessed to have a niece to spoil, since ALL THREE of my children are boys!<br /><br />I am blessed by the roof over my head (even if it leaks sometimes).<br /><br />I am blessed to be warm by a fire with wood provided by parents who love us. <br /><br />I am blessed by the phone calls and text messages I get from friends and family every day (whether I manage to answer them or not).<br /><br />I am blessed by my children's love, and by more hugs and kisses than I could count in a lifetime.<br /><br />I am blessed to have good friends to talk to when I need to cry or to complain or to laugh.<br /><br />I am blessed to live so near my family, and to always have help when I need it, whether it's a babysitter, a piece of advice, or help buying new tires for my car.<br /><br />I am blessed. By these and so many other things. And for every time that I get frustrated, angry, or worried, I have ten blessings to remind me why life isn't really so bad.<br /><br />No, nothing is easy. There is always something to worry about. But counting blessings is a lot more comforting.<br /><br />Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. I hope you're enjoying your blessings as much as I am enjoying mine.postmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-54475702462824192872010-11-19T07:09:00.000-08:002010-11-19T07:14:17.977-08:00Six Word Fridays: Home<table style="width:auto;"><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/yPP8f4GliYMuGhA2lveJIOUpmAELk00kMV0Neje5ToQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY759HeVqf0rHDkqXZxljVYo8AD2ahlQMmSOmN2S8IN_ON2sXKAFYufu55aSy1gSKLvhOoJh62D26ZbceE2f7gzyNtITd1OvMXotjrj3DlmneeUVH0tyvuZuB4EXfWeUgv1pI2chNlEZ8/s800/sixwords_white.jpg" height="125" width="125" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="http://www.makingthingsup.com/six-word-fridays/">Making Things Up</a></td></tr></table><br /><br />Doesn't have to be a house,<br />Or even have a single door.<br />Just comfort from your loving arms.<br />A home I treasure forever more.postmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-11306455203847058162010-11-18T07:31:00.000-08:002010-11-18T08:30:00.073-08:00The Mother I RememberIt has been 11 years to the day since my mother passed away. The pain of losing her has dulled over the years, but I still find myself in tears sometimes, thinking of how much I miss her. Lately, I've been thinking about her more than I have in a long time. I'm not crying as much as when she first died, of course, but I am missing her like it just happened yesterday.<br /><br />I have been trying to figure out why I've been thinking about her so much lately. Is it my own growing family? Or maybe it's the stress of my life that I ache for her to calm? Maybe my hormones are to blame. I know it could be a little of all of these things. But last night, as I lay in my bed crying tears in to my pillow, I thought long and hard about my mom. And I realized that I've been missing her so much because I feel like I've forgotten her.<br /><br />When I first started thinking about it, I felt like I couldn't recall anything specific about her anymore. How did she sound? What did she smell like? But the longer I thought, the easier memories of her became. It isn't that I've forgotten, it's just that, out of necessity, I've pushed them to the back of my mind. I can't describe exactly how much my mom meant to me, but I can tell you that if I remembered her so vividly every day, my eyes would never be dry. Her absence is a hole in my soul. I miss her dearly.<br /><br />I miss the woman who could solve any of my problems with a hug and a stroke of my hair. She taught me how to spell (by needing things spelled for her all the time) and how to balance a checkbook (by making me balance hers). She was strong, street smart, and kind. I can't recall her without a smile on her face. She laughed in the face of temper tantrums and commanded respect without hardly ever raising her voice. No matter how sick she got--how the lupus warped her skin in to a patchwork of red blotches--she was always the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. She had an enormous heart, and for me, love radiated whenever she was in my vicinity. Smart, honest, beautiful--my mother epitomized them all.<br /><br />There is a way to hug my whole family at once, to make us recall the glue that once cemented our family together, and all it takes is a single word. Jackie.<br /><br />I miss you, Mom. I hope you're resting peacefully, and I hope you can feel the love we all still hold in our hearts for you.postmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-8866693233621768352010-11-05T08:12:00.001-07:002010-11-05T08:20:09.130-07:00Six Word Fridays: Change<table style="width:auto;"><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/qr27_bJfbdRvRD6zerjywuUpmAELk00kMV0Neje5ToQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxr-PdzPQ8_E7y4z-QJbyK9xiKHG_J8E62coGbWMmS7q6cLg4Ts664dX0IhYfAoJfpOWMnPzS14-chF5lYhUkgfWCyzyJ5N3TtQ1nfAou8shCk7hXcyuxTEIK7UD2FtYEM7LeDo0Q-KP0/s800/sixwords_white.jpg" height="125" width="125" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right"></table><br /><br />Sometimes we are afraid of it.<br />Usually we don't notice it happening.<br />It is fluid, like puddles forming<br />While rain streams from the sky.<br />It feels abrupt, sometimes, but isn't,<br />Because even those abrupt, altering moments<br />Don't immediately change who we are.<br />Change takes time--happens so slowly.<br />We are likely not to recognize<br />Ourselves from the changes we've incurred<br />But when we look back again,<br />Will we know how we've transformed?postmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-39922968706877626042010-11-02T06:10:00.000-07:002010-11-02T06:38:42.325-07:00Unplugging JamesMy older son, James, turns 4 on Saturday. I can hardly believe it's been four years already. At the same time, however, I can't believe it hasn't been more than four. For as dear as my little James is to me, I am constantly challenged by him. Because he is my first. And every new thing he does is something I haven't seen before. It can be cute and funny and rewarding--but it can also be exhausting and perplexing and frustrating.<br /><br />I suppose my real problems have arisen quite recently; James was the easiest kind of baby there is. He could sit happily in a swing while I went to the bathroom or cooked dinner. He rarely cried without a good reason. I couldn't help thinking, way back then, that parenting a newborn wasn't as difficult as I was expecting (then #2 came along, and boy, did he prove me wrong). <br /><br />When James was a toddler, the story was much the same. While I sometimes worried about him, wanting to make sure he met his "milestones" when he should, there still weren't many problems. He was easy to discipline and listened exceptionally well. The terrible twos were markedly mild, and on the whole the threes have been fairly uneventful.<br /><br />But now, my little one, my first born, is swiftly changing from toddler in to boy. Sometimes I'm shocked at how much of a little personality he has--how <span style="font-style: italic;">grown up</span> he seems. And then I realize, it's just that he's not a baby anymore. And I think we're both having some problems with the transition.<br /><br />A month or so ago, James started changing in a way I didn't like at all. He has become increasingly moody, lazy, and disinterested in the world around him. It's like pulling teeth to get him to play with a toy, and he can quite often be found brooding on the couch, thumb in mouth, pouting that he can't watch TV. <br /><br />Initially I chalked this up to my own lack of energy in the preceding months. I wasn't the same Mommy I used to be from August to October. We didn't do nearly as much as normal, because I was having severe, all day "morning" sickness. We did a lot more sitting in the grass reading books than we did running around the park. I thought once I started feeling better and got us out of the house more, he'd snap out of it.<br /><br />The opposite has been true. The problem was exacerbated when my husband introduced him to his XBox. This was a terrible choice for a child that's already obsessed with sitting on the couch; I wish I would have protested it. But, I must be honest, it was nice to see a spark of happiness in his eyes, and it was terribly cute how excited he got to play "Lego the Company," (as he calls the <span style="font-style: italic;">Lego: Indiana Jones</span> video game his dad gave him to play). <br /><br />Video games have now become an obsession. I've been setting limits and denying him, but our days are peppered with requests to play the game. I spend more time thinking of <span style="font-style: italic;">other</span> things for him to do than I ever have before. I feel like we're sinking, and I'm afraid I don't know the way out of this hole. His moodiness has gotten worse, and it's hard to get him out of his little fog of electronic bliss. He doesn't even get excited to see his grandparents anymore--and they're the kind that hide candy in your pockets and bring you toys <span style="font-style: italic;">every time</span> they visit.<br /><br />I was thinking last night, as I lay in bed worrying about this problem, that this is our first real "big boy" struggle. He's developing distinct interests, and problems like this are bound to come up again. I'm not always going to like how he chooses to spend his time, and I have a feeling we'll spend quite a bit of time struggling over it. <br /><br />For now, I'll keep denying and keep trying to get him interested in less reclusive activities. But I think both of us have a long road before we totally figure this out. We start ice skating lessons on Saturday, and he's getting a slew of <span style="font-style: italic;">actual</span> Legos and other real toys for his birthday on Sunday. I'm hoping something catches his interest and helps me wean him from his video game addiction. <br /><br />I'm definitely open to suggestions. But please, curb the judging on why I let my 4-year-old play video games in the first place. I'm still trying to figure out why I let that happen.postmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-44207475757738305992010-10-17T08:41:00.000-07:002010-10-17T09:15:29.500-07:00A Story of Births and BeliefsThe other night, I decided to watch a movie. I didn't know what I wanted to watch, so I clicked on the suggested movies of Netflix and let it help me decide. <a href="http://www.thebusinessofbeingborn.com/"><span style="font-style: italic;">The Business of Being Born</span></a> popped up, and it sounded fairly interesting, so I decided to watch it. I'd never heard of it before, but I figured there couldn't be a better subject for an expecting mother, right? I thought maybe I'd learn something I didn't already know.<br /><br />I knew within 10 minutes that I'd made a mistake. Not because it was a terrible movie, but because it was going to be difficult for me to watch. Within a very short time, I was crying. <br /><br />I cried because the story echoed over and over throughout the movie is similar to what happened to me when I gave birth to my first child. I cried because there was so much I didn't know then, so much that would have helped me make better decisions about the whole experience. I can't say for sure if things would have worked out differently if I had been more informed, but learning some of these things after the fact is like a sucker punch to the stomach.<br /><br />When I was 36 weeks pregnant with my first son, I developed severe hypertension and borderline preeclampsia. The doctor kept reassuring me that my blood pressure wasn't so high that we needed to worry, and there wasn't much protein in my urine. But, to be safe, he sent me for a nonstress test to make sure my baby was doing ok. The test seemed to go fine; the nurse told me the baby looked like he was doing great. I left the hospital feeling absolutely relieved. <br /><br />I didn't make it to my car before I got a phone call from my doctor's office. <br /><br />"We need you to go back to the hospital. We're admitting you for further observation."<br /><br />Apparently, although the baby was doing fine, they weren't so sure that I was. My blood pressure had increased, and they didn't want to risk it getting worse. So, my husband and I walked the 20 feet back in to the hospital and I was taken to the mothers and infants wing to spend the night.<br /><br />The result of my overnight stay in the hospital was fairly inconclusive. My doctor ordered me home on bedrest, but he still didn't think there was too much need for concern. He thought if I stayed off my feet and relaxed, I'd be ok for the last few weeks of my pregnancy. <br /><br />That was on a Friday. On Monday, I had another appointment. My blood pressure was still way too high, even though I very literally only got up to go to the bathroom the entire weekend (it was a very boring weekend at my house!). My doctor, still not seeming terribly concerned, gave me an option: take the risk of the blood pressure problem getting worse, or be induced?<br /><br />It's hard to explain my decision making during this time. It was definitely altered by the fact that I was very excited to meet my new baby, and it was also altered by my ignorance about child birth. All I knew was that, even though he seemed calm, my doctor was paying me an inordinate amount of attention. And I was terrified about making the wrong decision. So, I consented to induction.<br /><br />I hadn't dilated yet at all; my body was in no way ready to have a baby yet. I spent the night having suppositories to ripen my cervix (or something like that), and in the wee hours of the morning my water broke. So far, so good. Then, they brought on the Pitocin. I didn't want an epidural, so I tried to labor without any pain medication. The Pitocin contractions were horrible, and from subsequent conversations I've had with other mothers, I now know that they're not "natural." When you go in to labor on your own, the contractions start off slower and build in intensity. I went from nothing to full throttle in less than an hour. I was in terrible pain, and because they were monitoring my baby, I wasn't allowed to get out of the bed more than once an hour. I couldn't stretch or walk. I labored like this for 10 hours before I finally asked for an epidural; I had only dilated to 3cm.<br /><br />A few minutes later, the nurses changed shift. My new nurse came in to introduce herself and look at my chart. She took one look at the fetal heart monitor and her eyes got huge. She asked my aunt to feel for the baby and rub my belly to help get his heartbeat up. Then she rushed off to find the doctor. <br /><br />Again, my doctor didn't seem terribly concerned. Almost nonchalantly, he explained to me that my son's heartbeat was dropping dangerously low every time I had a contraction. Did I want to continue to labor, or just have a C-section?<br /><br />I often wonder what kind of question this is to pose to a terrified woman in labor with her first child. Why didn't he offer any advice? Why was he treating this like routine? I broke down in tears, unable to answer. My husband answered for me. "If there's something wrong, do what you have to do." After a moment I concurred with my husband. If my baby was in danger, we should just do the C-section.<br /><br />I've never gotten over the loss of a "normal" child birth. I feel like every intervention from doctors led me further down a path that inevitably led to a C-section. Could any of them have been avoided? Was I too scared to really think of the consequences of my choices? I'm not sure. But I do think there was definitely information I didn't have, that might have changed some of my decisions.<br /><br />Ultimately, I know that it doesn't matter how my son was born. I love him just the same, and I'm happy to have him alive and healthy. But I still long for the experience of birthing a child.<br /><br />On my doctor's strong suggestion ("It seems like you might have a small pelvis. You didn't make much progress while you were in labor last time. Better safe than sorry."), I opted for a repeat C-section the second time around. It is something I regret very deeply. I let myself get scared. My first birth experience was so full of scary moments that I didn't want to take any chances the second time.<br /><br />Now, here I am, 16 weeks in to my third pregnancy. And from the moment I found out I was pregnant, I was very sure of one thing: I want to attempt a VBAC this time. I know there's a chance that something could go wrong. I know there's a 40% chance I'll have to have a C-section, anyway. But I want to try. And my doctor isn't terribly receptive to the idea. For now, he's humoring me, telling me there's a chance that I can. But his list of reasons I shouldn't keeps getting longer. I do trust my doctor's opinion, but I've also done a lot of self-education this time around. And I won't take no for an answer. <br /><br />I'd like to be allowed to pick my baby up when it's born. I'd like to be able to walk up the stairs of my house and put my baby in its crib and (maybe) sleep comfortably in my own bed. I'd rather have the soreness and discomfort that comes with vaginal birth than the painful open wound in my abdomen that comes with a C-section. And I would like to know that my body can birth a baby on its own, without a long list of medical interventions. <br /><br />Wish me luck...this is going to be a bumpy road.postmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-42906244215202651562010-10-15T07:35:00.000-07:002010-10-15T07:46:15.311-07:00Six Word Fridays: Favorite Things<table style="width:auto;"><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/qr27_bJfbdRvRD6zerjywuUpmAELk00kMV0Neje5ToQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxr-PdzPQ8_E7y4z-QJbyK9xiKHG_J8E62coGbWMmS7q6cLg4Ts664dX0IhYfAoJfpOWMnPzS14-chF5lYhUkgfWCyzyJ5N3TtQ1nfAou8shCk7hXcyuxTEIK7UD2FtYEM7LeDo0Q-KP0/s800/sixwords_white.jpg" height="125" width="125" /></a></td></tr><tr><td style="font-family:arial,sans-serif; font-size:11px; text-align:right">From <a href="http://www.makingthingsup.com/six-word-fridays/">Making Things Up</a></td></tr></table><br /><br />Pumpkin spices in my morning coffee<br /><br />Snuggling before getting out of bed<br /><br />The Beatles, and some other classic rockers<br /><br />Monty Python's Flying Circus (Argument Sketch)<br /><br />Seeing my children learn something new<br /><br />Fresh challah, straight from the oven<br /><br />Weekly playdates with my best friend<br /><br />A clean house by week's end<br /><br />Cake (the band; sometimes the food)<br /><br />Reading a good book without interruptions<br /><br />Dancing (when no one is looking)<br /><br />The list could surely go on<br /><br />Stopping, for the sake of time...postmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-4589838312941012892010-10-14T04:54:00.000-07:002010-10-14T05:10:06.993-07:00Weariness and WorryIt's not quite 5 am yet this morning, and here I am, staring at my computer screen. I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping lately, mostly due to an overactive bladder (thanks, baby #3), but for some reason this morning I just couldn't make myself go back to sleep. My mind was racing, and I let myself start to worry. Why does worrying always creep up on me in the middle of the night when I should be sleeping? I always try to tell myself that I should wait until morning to worry, because there isn't much you can do about it in the middle of the night, anyway. But I still find myself staring at the ceiling pondering my troubles on a pretty regular basis.<br /><br />What I worry about changes, although there are certainly themes. Most often I worry about money: did I pay all the bills? <span style="font-weight: bold;"> Can</span> I pay all the bills?! How can I earn some money to make this easier? These questions plague me, and sadly I often don't have the answers. I used to be really good with money, but now it makes my stomach turn and I feel like hyperventilating. There's too little of it no matter how I try to stretch a dollar.<br /><br />I also worry a lot about how I'm doing as a parent. What do I need to work on? Did I do enough with them today? How can I be better? I toss and turn, thinking about my failures, the things that I don't even want to talk about out loud because I feel bad about them. I let them watch too much TV. I let them stay up too late. I'm not good at disciplining them. The list goes on, always exaggerated by my sleepy, overactive brain. <br /><br />Sometimes I feel worried and I don't know why. Furthermore, I'm afraid to think too hard about why I'm worried, because then I'll probably remember some lurking worry that I've managed to push to the back of my brain. Ever find yourself fretting and you're not even sure why? I think I might have a disease or something. My Gram would probably tell me it's just part of being an adult.<br /><br />Most of the things I worry about have solutions. They're just not solutions that I can implement at 3 am when my brain decides to overload me with them. And that makes me feel helpless. In the morning, I can at least begin to focus on my problems with a clear, well rested body and mind. But that's only possible if I can manage to get back to sleep first. It's a vicious cycle.<br /><br />I'll keep working on my worries during the day, and I will keep trying to calm myself in to peaceful sleep during the night. But in the meantime, if you ever find yourself awake in the wee hours, worrying about something you can't even begin to change until a more decent hour, remember me. I'm probably wide-eyed and weary in my own bed, worrying too.postmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-10659229912695944112010-10-08T06:49:00.000-07:002010-10-08T06:54:13.054-07:00Six Word Fridays: Fantasy<table style="width:auto;"><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/yPP8f4GliYMuGhA2lveJIOUpmAELk00kMV0Neje5ToQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY759HeVqf0rHDkqXZxljVYo8AD2ahlQMmSOmN2S8IN_ON2sXKAFYufu55aSy1gSKLvhOoJh62D26ZbceE2f7gzyNtITd1OvMXotjrj3DlmneeUVH0tyvuZuB4EXfWeUgv1pI2chNlEZ8/s800/sixwords_white.jpg" height="125" width="125" /></a></td></tr></table><br /><br />I'm curled up on the couch.<br />My husband offered to cook dinner!<br />The kids are playing quietly alone.<br />Bills are paid (all on time)!<br />Later, I'll read in the bath.<br />(And no one will interrupt me).postmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-46172466398302218412010-10-03T08:47:00.000-07:002010-10-03T08:58:56.383-07:00A ConfessionI've been absolutely struggling with a way to pick up this blog where I left off in August. Way back then, my last post was about how devastated I was to be leaving my children home for a week while I went adventuring on the Alaska Highway with my good friend. I intended to tell you all about my trip when I came back.<br /><br />That trip took more out of me than I expected. While it was exciting to see a new place, and it was in some ways relaxing to have a whole week with no children, I still missed them terribly. Every new thing I saw, I wished that they and my husband could be there to share it with me. To make matters worse, while I was gone all three of them were terribly sick. They spent the entire week inside, noses running, heads stuffy, being miserable. I was already feeling guilty and this took me right over the top. In short, I couldn't get my mind far enough separated from life back home to really enjoy myself.<br /><br />That was a hard thing to admit. When I came home, of course everyone expected to hear stories of how awesome my trip was. And I tried to oblige. No one wants to hear my whine about how much I missed my family. This was an amazing opportunity, not something to cry about! <br /><br />So, every time I sat down here at my computer to write in this blog, I hit a wall. I just couldn't recount my happy adventure to Alaska. Because as great as some parts of it were, I just can't get over the guilt of not having enjoyed it that much. I thought about just skipping right back in to day-to-day life, but that didn't seem right, either. <br /><br />Maybe I'm just a hopeless homebody. Maybe my hormones are just EXTRA out of control. But I don't think I could ever take a trip like that again, without my family. I love my friend and I love the adventure we shared, but it will always be slightly marred by the heartache I experienced while I was gone from home. My younger son still gets anxious now when he can't find me, and he throws his arms around me and says, "Mama, I <span style="font-style: italic;">missed</span> you," even if I was just in the bathroom. I can't help feeling like I wasn't the only one who hasn't gotten over my vacation yet.<br /><br />Sorry for staying away for so long. Happy to be writing again!<br /><br />~Jenpostmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-88878740552009868382010-08-09T07:23:00.000-07:002010-08-09T07:39:20.664-07:00North, to AlaskaIn less than 12 hours, I will be heading off on an adventure. The kind of adventure that wouldn't have phased me in the least 6 years ago when I was still in college, and not married, and not a mother. But right now? I'm <span style="font-weight: bold;">terrified</span>. I'm leaving my family for an entire week. And even though I know they'll be ok, <span style="font-style: italic;">I'm not sure that I'm going to be.</span><br /><br />A few weeks ago, I got an email from a good friend; she was my college roommate and we've been friends since the first day we met. The subject was: "An offer for you to refuse." I opened the email to discover an invitation. Her boyfriend was supposed to drive with her from Seattle to her home in Alaska, but he could no longer go. He offered to pay for the flight home of whoever she could find to ride with her. She wanted to know if there was any way I could find child care for a week and come to Alaska with her. My first thought was, !!! Followed by, "there's no way." And then I looked at my husband, batted my eyelashes, and told him what she had asked. He didn't hesitate. "Of course you're going," he said. I was thrilled. But also scared. It's a long time to be away from home.<br /><br />I woke up in the middle of the night last night, and my mind started racing about what I need to pack and what I need to accomplish today before I go to the airport. But then my mind drifted to my children and how desperately they cry even if I go to the grocery store by myself. I've been telling them about this trip for a few weeks, but I know they won't understand until they wake up tomorrow and realize that I'm not home yet. I could cry right now. I probably will when I get on the plane. My younger son is cuddling on my lap this morning, and I don't want to let him down. I know it's only a week, but <span style="font-weight: bold;">it's a week</span>. That's like a lifetime to a 2-year-old. And to top it all off, they've both come down with colds in the last few days. So not only am I leaving my children, I'm leaving my <span style="font-style: italic;">sick</span> children. There's a huge ball of nerves in the pit of my stomach right now, which on top of my already queasy pregnant stomach is making it difficult to breathe. I need to get over this, because quite frankly I'm not even excited about my trip right now. Just sad, and scared, and desperately looking for a way out.<br /><br />I <strike>know</strike> hope that once I leave, I'll relax a little bit and enjoy my trip. And I'll savor the ability to get in a car without buckling car seats or walk through a store without needing the stupid, gigantic cart with the bucket seats on the back. It's going to be like taking a step back in time, and I'm going somewhere I've never been. It is destined to be a trip I'll remember forever, I'm sure. <br /><br />But I just can't stop thinking about how much I'm going to miss them.postmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3337250465599398600.post-60649740129181163972010-08-06T05:46:00.000-07:002010-08-06T05:52:28.401-07:00Six Word Fridays: Temptation<table style="width:auto;"><tr><td><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/qr27_bJfbdRvRD6zerjywuUpmAELk00kMV0Neje5ToQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxr-PdzPQ8_E7y4z-QJbyK9xiKHG_J8E62coGbWMmS7q6cLg4Ts664dX0IhYfAoJfpOWMnPzS14-chF5lYhUkgfWCyzyJ5N3TtQ1nfAou8shCk7hXcyuxTEIK7UD2FtYEM7LeDo0Q-KP0/s800/sixwords_white.jpg" /></a></td></tr></table><br /><br />Sleep, delicious sleep. Middle of day.postmommyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08023768388301369579noreply@blogger.com3