DRESS wars

In January, Isabelle turned 8 years old.

Being eight is kind of a big deal because it means you can be baptized a member of our church.  Isabelle decided she wanted to be baptized, so we started to plan for the special day.

Traditionally, girls will wear pretty white dresses after they have been baptized.  It's not required (I wore a black dress after my baptism), but Isabelle expressed an interest in getting one, so I began the search for a dress she might like.

After a lot of online browsing, I went to an actual store to see some dresses in person.  I absolutely fell in love with the dress pictured above, top row, second from the right.  I loved the pleats and the simple broach on the waist. 

Not long after, I brought Isabelle to the store so she could try on the dress I knew she'd love.

With wide eyes, she glanced at all the dresses and focused in on one that I did not like at all.  I tried to redirect her attention to my favorite dress, but it didn't work.  Eventually, we took both into a dressing room and it was obvious which dress we'd end up buying.

Her face glowed and her smile was so genuine as she stared at herself in the mirror, wearing the dress she picked out.

The glow faded and the smile disappeared when she tried on anything else.

When we left the store, her smile had returned as we carried her favorite dress out to the car.  I, on the other hand, was disappointed and then felt guilty for letting it bother me.

On the day of her baptism, Isabelle looked beautiful.  She was wearing the dress that she loved so much, and I could tell she felt special.  

And that is what I ultimately wanted for her.

So, mission accomplished...just accomplished differently than I expected.

INITIAL reactions

Several months ago, I read an article that had been shared by a friend on Facebook about what traits parents of successful kids all have in common.  According to the article, the traits ranged from having a college degree to learning math at an early age.

One trait in particular stood out to me:  a working mother.

After reading the article, I went back to Facebook and reviewed the comments.  Everyone loved all of the traits, and agreed with them, with the exception of the working mom.

I didn't know any of the women that made comments.  I barely knew the friend that posted the article to begin with.  But, because of their comments, I allowed myself to make all sorts of assumptions about them.  And what I assumed was not too great.

I consider myself a working mother.  While I am in no way the bread winner of our family, I work five days a week and contribute to our family's income.  I work to make money, of course, but also because I enjoy the satisfaction I get from completing a task that is separate from my motherhood responsibilities.

I took my anger and frustration to my blog and wrote a post criticizing these women for their comments about working moms.  But, before I published my thoughts, my mind was suddenly filled with doubt.  I started to wonder if the assumptions I had made about these women had any merit at all.

What I heard these women say was, "Successful children are not raised by working moms."  

But, maybe they meant, "Stay-at-home moms raise successful children, too."

I had a variety of different thoughts race through my mind.  I wish I could articulate how my perspective on this article, on the comments changed within a short period of time.  It really was a remarkable experience.  

And, basically, what I learned is this:

My reaction to something is not necessarily a reflection of intent.

I can think whatever I want, but that doesn't mean that I'm right.

Living in a world where it is so simple to respond to virtually anything within a matter of seconds, it's easy not to get caught up in our initial reaction.  

And sometimes our initial reactions are spot on.  

And sometimes they're not.

And so long as we're all aware of that, I think we'll all be okay.

a {DAY}

 I keep this note in my phone.  Obviously, November 19th was a bad day, but I honestly don't remember any of the details of how things went down.

Unfortunately, I still have days like this.  I imagine every mom does.

And the thing that never ceases to amaze me is that even though, logically, I know I'm not alone when it comes to the hardships of raising children - emotionally, I always feel like there's no one else who understands what I'm going through.

And even though I allow my daughters to influence me to feel like the worst person in the world, one millisecond of bliss within our home can make up for a week of obstacles.  And suddenly I'm the best mom in the world.

Motherhood truly is fascinating.  I'll never master it.

{#hardest #job #ever}

create your own {TIME}

I had the thought that my kids should see me doing things besides just cooking and cleaning.  You know, allowing them the opportunity to see that I have a personality and interests that extend beyond being "the little wife."  And since I had previously decided to read more, particularly the classics, I thought I'd enlighten my children by reading in front of them.  We went to the library one day and I checked out a copy of The Grapes of Wrath.

So, that was a month ago and I'm on page 95.

Apparently, casually reading a book while my kids entertain themselves is much more difficult than I anticipated.  No wonder I never read!  And, the guilt of doing something for me doesn't stop at the needs of my children.  It also includes the needs of my house.  Why would I ever read when there is laundry that needs to be folded and put away, dishes that need to be unloaded and loaded into the dishwasher, etc.  The list of things that I could be doing usually always trumps leisurely reading, even if no one is in need of my immediate attention.

The fact is, I don't feel productive if I'm reading.  And if I don't feel productive, I start to think less of myself.  And so I came up with this idea of how to indulge myself ever so slightly all while feeling productive.  I started including things that I wanted to do on my daily To Do list.  Among all the things I need to get done each day are things I want to do.

And guess what?  It works!

Turns out, the euphoria of crossing something off my list allows me to relax long enough to enjoy one chapter of The Grapes of Wrath {I had to extend my due date, by the way} each day.  And, when I'm done, I cross it off my list and can go about the rest of my feeling like I did something good for myself without feeling like I wasted my time.

I suppose the bottom line is this:  if I'm going to do anything for me, I have to plan for it.  That's sort of how adulthood is.  And even though that may sound frustrating, it's really not.  Being an adult blows sometimes, but there are a lot of perks to it as well.  Like, asking for a lemon with your water.  What teenager could get away with that without being ridiculed by her friends?

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go cross off "Write blog post" from my To Do list.

$20 for your THOUGHTS...

I am in desperate need of some advice!

My 4-month old daughter is a spit-up machine.  There is no end to her spitting up, and, as a result, she is constantly hungry.  I go through one package of formula in less than a week, which is costing me tons and tons of money!  The formula should be lasting longer than this, and I may as well flush $5 down the toilet every time another river of spit-up lands on my shoulder.

I need some practical, wholesome advice on what to do.  I've tried everything my pediatrician recommended plus a few tips I read on various websites, but nothing has worked.  Here's an example:

Trial and error with formula.  She is currently on a generic form of Enfamil AR.

Hold her in a more upright position during feedings.

Keep her in an upright position for 30-45 minutes after feedings.

Burp in between ounces.  i.e., drink one ounce, burp, drink a second ounce, burp, etc.

Feed her less at one time, but more frequently.

None of these suggestions have yielded any changes.  She continues to spit-up and spit-up and spit-up.  At this point, I'm in denial about the possibility that I may just have to wait for her to grow out of it.  I'm determined that there is a solution, and I'm almost certain someone out there has been in this same situation and can help me.

And the person that provides me the most effective advice will get a $20 Amazon giftcard.

Please comment and leave me any advice you may have.  

P.S. To all you die hard, anti-formula moms out there:  The reason behind why I do not breastfeed is none of your business.  But, I promise with all of my heart that I have a very legitimate reason for bottle-feeding my child.  Trust me when I say I would love nothing more than to feed my little one FREE breast milk, but such is not the case for me.  As much as I know how much you'd love to lecture me on how I'm ruining my child's life by not breastfeeding, it really is unnecessary. 

the PRINCESS DILEMMA

If you didn't hear about the big commotion regarding Pixar's Brave character Merida I guess I'm not that surprised.  In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't too big of deal.  But, in order for this post to make any sense to you, you need to know a few of the details.

A few weeks ago, Merida was inducted into the ever inclusive Disney Princess Club.  As part of her induction, Disney gave her a little bit of a make-over.

Source

Obviously, the princess club Merida was much more sexy, slimmer and without her most prized possession - the bow and arrow. 

Thousands were outraged by the change, claiming that Merida was the first Disney princess that was different.  The first Disney princess that wasn't about beauty and whose only hope in life wasn't to meet her handsome prince.  The first Disney princess that was actually worth admiring.

A petition was started.  Thousands of signatures were collected.  The petition demanded Disney restore Merida to her original settings.  And, after a few days, that's exactly what happened.  The official Disney princess website was changed and Merida was once again portrayed just as she did in her feature film.

So, here's my dilemma.

I am raising a little girl that loves princesses.  She adores them all:  Rapunzel, Cinderella, Tiana, Ariel, Belle, Mulan, Sleeping Beauty, Merida, etc.  She owns many of the princess dresses and would wear them 24/7 if I let her.

As I watch my little girl prance around our house in her dresses and then think about the outrage over Merida's makeover, I find myself conflicted.  I wonder, "Am I setting my daughter up for complete and utter doom by letting her love and adore princesses?  Is she going to grow up feeling like the only thing that matters in life is how you look?"

And then I think about the stories behind some of these princesses:

Belle is an outcast in the village where she lives.  She prefers to read and seeks adventure.  She refuses a marriage proposal from the most dashing, handsome man in town.  She supports and defends her father even when everyone else makes fun of him, and, she ultimately sacrifices her freedom to save his life.  She eventually falls in love with the Beast because, despite his appearance, she has learned that he is kind and gentle and caring.

Cinderella is treated horribly by her family.  She is a slave in her own home.  Despite the cruelty she endures, she always has a positive attitude.  In the end, her dream of a better life comes true, illustrating that, despite the difficulties we may have now, things can turn out for the better.

Ariel dreams of a different life.  She has a curious nature and wants to learn everything she can about life above the sea.  She is rebellious, knows what she wants in life and makes sure she gets it.

Mulan lives in a country where tradition means everything, and where women are viewed as worthless.  Because she is not male, the only way she can bring honor to her family is by getting married.  Even though she wants to honor her father and mother, she knows she has more to offer than just being "a little wife."  Despite the risk of being killed, she disguises herself as a man and takes her father's place in the Chinese army.  After a lot of hard work and determination, she eventually becomes a great soldier and brings honor to her family all while remaining single.

Are all the princesses mentioned above beautiful?

Yes.

  Does that make their stories any less meaningful?

No.

I don't want my daughters to grow up thinking the most important thing in life is to be beautiful, but I also don't want them thinking being beautiful is bad.

I want my daughters to know that, regardless of physical appearance, everyone has strengths, weaknesses, dreams and fears.  No one is exempt from times of happiness or difficulties.  And, even though no two people are exactly alike, it is safe to assume everyone has similar, basic needs and desires.  And because of all of this, it is important to treat everyone with kindness and dignity.

When my oldest daughter finds herself feeling insecure about her appearance, will I think back on this time and say, "I never should've let her wear that Rapunzel dress everyday!"  My guess is, no.  Everyone feels "less than" at some point in their life.  It's just apart of life.

And it's not that it happens that matters.  It's how you handle it that is the most important.

Does this mean I am indifferent about Merida's makeover?  Of course not.  It was ridiculous for Disney to change her appearance.  (However, I should mention that all of the princesses on the website have been altered in some way, begging the question as to why no one has gotten all up in arms about that.  But, that's besides the point.)  All I'm trying to say is that loving princesses isn't all that bad, and that we should focus more of our concerns on why people like the cast of The Jersey Shore and the Kardashians are so popular.

In the end, I'm glad that people took a stand for something they felt strongly about and won!  It just goes to show that your voice can be heard, even when you're going up against huge corporations. I'm glad to have a daughter that loves to wear dresses, play make believe and who whole-heartedly embraces her femininity and thinks pants are for boys.

And, I'm glad that, thanks to Merida, she can't wait to get her own bow and arrow.

{l}: LETTERS to my girls

For whatever reason, coming up with something for L was rather difficult.  I browsed the Internet for ideas, and landed on one that is just plain awesome.

I am going to write letters to my daughters and give them to them the day they graduation from high school. 

At the end of the year {perhaps this can be something I do every New Year's Eve}, I'll write a letter to each girl.  Maybe the letter will include funny things they said, the TV shows they watched most often, the music they liked, the celebrity crushes they had.  But, most importantly, it'll include something they taught me and how they helped me become a better person.

Assuming I don't have any more children, this goal will be complete in 2031.

Wish me luck!

a GOOD THING

After awhile, the comments regarding how much my daughter's life was going to change began to overwhelm me.  On the one hand, I was so excited to welcome a new baby girl into our family.  But, at the same time, I felt extremely guilty at the idea of turning Isabelle's world upside down.

How could I do this to my little girl?

As ashamed as I am to admit it, I began having doubts about whether or not having another child was a good idea.  Obviously, we were going to have another child either way, but I sincerely questioned my ability to handle all the challenges that were waiting for me.

But then something wonderful happened.  You hear women say all the time that they felt an immediate bond with their child the second he/she was born.  I didn't feel that at all with my first daughter, but I did with my second.  It was very unexpected and surprising.

I remember feeling how grateful I was that she was healthy and that I was finally able to hold her in my arms.  As I looked at her in awe, an overwhelming feeling came over me that this was right.  Despite the difficulties ahead, her arrival was no mistake.  This is what was suppose to happen and it was a very, very good thing for our family.

It's now been a month since the birth of our little girl.  Isabelle has come such a long way and genuinely enjoys her little sister.  Things aren't perfect and I still struggle with how to manage it all, but I know things are how they are suppose to be.

And that makes the hard times worthwhile and the good times that much better.

ADJUSTMENT mode

My life has completely changed.  

I have spent the last several weeks preparing for our new bundle of joy.

And now she's here.  And she's perfect.

We're still in adjustment mode, though, especially my sweet Isabelle.  She's trying her very best to be brave, but sometimes she gets overwhelmed.  It's heartbreaking to watch her struggle and to hear her say she doesn't like being at home because it's "weird."

Dustin planned a few fun outings to do with her which I think made her feel extra special; however, if there's anything I've learned in the past week it's that no outing or activity can compensate for discomfort in the home.  And making sure our house is a happy and positive and safe haven for my girls is my ultimate goal in life.

So, that's what I'm focusing on right now:  making sure that our home is as a place of peace and comfort.  It's not easy, and will be even more difficult when Dustin goes back to work.  But, I'm confident with a lot of thought I can do it!

I consider this an exciting time in my life and hope I can find time to blog more about it.

"go, MOM"

Last week Isabelle participated in her first dance recital.  It was a really great day, and I was so incredibly proud of her.

When we arrived at the school where the recital was to be held, I took her to the room where all the dancers had to check-in.  I found the other girls from her class and took her to where they were sitting.  It was so adorable to see all these little girls dressed in the same costume with their hair and makeup all perfect.  They all seemed so excited.

I learned soon after that an older dancer would be in charge of the girls so the parents could sit in the auditorium and enjoy the show.  Given Isabelle's history with stranger anxiety, I was a bit hesitant to leave her alone.  But, I was sort of given the impression that I needed to leave.  And I wanted to leave, so that didn't bother me. 

I put my arm around Isabelle and told her to stay with her friends and showed her the girl that would be looking after her.  Her reaction?

"Ok, go now, Mom."

I was a little taken back by her response.  So, I clarified and said, "You want me to leave?"

And she said, "Yes, go now, Mom."

With a smile on my face, I stood up, told Isabelle I loved her and proceeded to exit the room.

Some moms would probably be mortified if their daughter told them to leave them alone, especially when the daughter is not quite four years old.  But, that's not the case for me.  Any parent that has dealt with a child with extreme stranger anxiety would probably agree the moment your child appears to outgrow the issue is a day to celebrate.  At least, that's the case for me.

I found my family in the auditorium and told Dustin what Isabelle said to me.  We both had a good chuckle about it, and he, too, agreed it was a wonderful thing for her to say.

As I watched my little girl walk onto the stage, seeming completely unimpressed by the packed auditorium, even waving to everyone, I was so happy for her.  She did a wonderful job dancing, looking absolutely graceful at times, and I couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of a long road for her and dancing.

No matter what the future holds, I'll always be so grateful for the moment Isabelle told me to "go."  

{day TWENTY-EIGHT} a HEALTHY BABY

I went to a doctor appointment today, and at 29 weeks things are looking just as they should at this point during my pregnancy.

I heard the baby's heartbeat and it sounded so strong and fast.  Since I've only been able to hear it once a month so far {I'm not at the point where I go to my doctor every two weeks instead of four}, there's always a part of me that is worried that something might be wrong.

In two weeks I get to go to another appointment, and because I raised some concerns about my lack of weight gain {I don't have anything to worry about.  I just thought I'd be bigger at this point than I am}, my doctor is going to do an ultrasound.  At this point, the baby will be much more recognizable and it will be so much fun to see her face.

Having a baby is always risky.  In my situation, it's a little more risky because of my epilepsy, so I am so grateful that our newest addition is healthy and, by all accounts, happy.

the HELICOPTER in ME

Isabelle's stranger anxiety began when she was very, very young.  I'm not exactly sure, but I want to say around 3 months.  I know it was before 6 months.

As a new mom, I was very protective of my little girl.  We spent a lot of time at home, just the two of us.  All of our family lived hours away, so visits to see grandma and grandpa, aunts and uncles and cousins were few and far between.  And, when we did get to see our family Isabelle was less than thrilled and never let anyone else get near her, let alone hold her, without going into a major fit.

The idea of going out with Dustin on a date and hiring a baby-sitter to watch Isabelle seemed like the most daunting thing ever.  How could I subject anyone to Isabelle's fits or subject Isabelle to such trauma?

As a result, I was rarely without my child.

As the months passed, I decided to get a part-time job.  Isabelle was 8 months old at the time and my schedule worked perfectly with Dustin's so a sitter would never be needed.  I was excited for the chance to get out of the house and make a little bit of money.

The day I was offered the job, I was told my training would be a week long and at a different location and city than where I'd actually be working.  The hours of my training were also different.  As a non-driver and mother of a very anxious child, this presented a challenge for me.  Luckily, Dustin had a wonderful boss that was so accommodating to our unusual situation and she worked with him so that he could take me to work.

On the flip side, I had to find a sitter for Isabelle.  I had a good friend that offered to help me.  She had two young girls of her own and I knew Isabelle would be in good hands.  She also knew about Isabelle's stranger anxiety and promised me she wouldn't be bothered by it.  So, I sucked it up and decided to trust that things would be okay.  After all, Isabelle was only going to be with a sitter for less than 2 hours a day.

The first day she cried most of the time.  The second day was the same, but she cried less.  By the end of the week, she was still anxious to see us leave her, but she was much more relaxed and it was obvious she was getting used to the idea of being around new people.

That week was a great learning experience for me as I let go of my daughter and allowed her to adapt to new situations and experiences.

Now, at 3 years old, Isabelle continues to be shy, but she has definitely come a long way.  She is able to see my family on a regular basis, so we're all cured of her stranger anxiety there; however, she see's Dustin's side of the family less and is still prone to not wanting grandma or grandpa hold her which really bothers me.  But, overall, things have improved greatly.

As I ponder the new experiences she will be faced with in the coming years {a new baby sister, pre-school, kindergarten, etc.}, I worry about how she will adjust.  I have nightmares of her refusing to go to school, so I'm trying to do what I can now to prepare her, even if it's just in small ways.

Isabelle has always enjoyed dancing, so I proposed to Dustin that we sign her up for classes.  He was on board and we both were happy to give her the opportunity to be in new situations, to be in a classroom-like setting, to learn how to be comfortable around adults and children and, of course, to have fun!

On Saturday, we went to a local dance store to get her a leotard, tights, ballet slippers and tap shoes.  The store was very busy and I felt like a total fish out of water.  I imagined my feelings were how my mom felt when she first took me to a music store after I demanded to take violin lessons.  She had no idea what to expect, and I found myself in the same situation.

I caught myself being a helicopter mom as the nice associate worked with Isabelle to find the right size shoes.  It took all my energy not to answer the questions she was asking Isabelle, but to instead let the two of them interact and communicate together.

So far, I've learned that if I just back off and relax my daughter does just fine in new situations.  At first, she squeezes my leg in apprehension and is quiet and shy around new people, but eventually she does let go and blossoms as she enjoys a new experience.

I am thoroughly enjoying the idea of everything life has to offer Isabelle in the coming years, but know her growth and development and advancement can only go so far provided I learn to let go and trust that she will be okay. 

Thoughts?

IT'S a.......

A little over a week ago, I had my monthly OB/GYN appointment.   But this was no ordinary appointment.  It was the gender ultrasound appointment!

Typically my husband and I just go to the appointments so we don't have to deal with any misbehavior by our sweet Isabelle.  But, this time we couldn't arrange a sitter so we took her to the appointment with us.

I was really nervous about her being with us just because I knew if she acted up or got really loud and disruptive, Dustin would have to take her out.  And I really didn't want him to miss any part of this appointment.

Thanks to Isabelle's shyness, as soon as the doctor came into the room she settled down and sat quietly on her daddy's lap.  Much to my elation.

I'm pretty sure my doctor was joking around with me  because when he started the ultrasound he was going over all possible body parts except for the one we were anxiously waiting for.  It was probably only a minute or two, but it felt like an eternity.  For some reason, I just couldn't wait to find out if we were having a boy or a girl.

At the same time, Isabelle seemed to really enjoy the ultrasound and appeared to understand what she was looking at, at least when it came to the baby's head, feet, arms, hands, etc.

Finally, my doctor got to the main event and after forcing the baby to move around a bit, he told us that we are expecting a

GIRL!

We were so excited and in all honesty was not surprised.  I knew deep down that our baby was a girl, but I tried not to convince myself completely because I wanted there to be some element of surprise when it came to the big reveal.

It was a fun and exciting day, and in the end I'm really glad Isabelle was there to share in all the excitement; however, it's probably the last appointment she'll attend for the rest of my pregnancy. 

And, in case anyone is wondering, we've narrowed it down to two names.  We originally decided to keep the name a secret just for fun, but it's proving very difficult not to give into all of our lovely family and friends' demands of wanting to know the name.  So, who knows, we may let people know before our baby girl arrives, assuming we've picked a name by then!

{P.S. If you'd like to read a little bit more about my crazy life, check out Karen's post for today!}

the SECOND time around

Even though I am expecting my second child, there are a lot of things about this pregnancy and the situation in general that are very new.  I feel like I am preparing for this baby sort of like I did with Isabelle in that there are so many things I don't know what to expect.

For example, I was pregnant with Isabelle while we lived in Idaho.  Living in Utah means I now have a new OB/GYN and will be delivering at a different hospital.

We now live in a much smaller house.  Space was literally not an issue when we were preparing for Isabelle's arrival.  Her bedroom was plenty big to easily accommodate her crib, rocking chair, changing table, etc.  Now, I'm in the process of converting our office into the nursery, finding new space for our office, and deciding what baby necessities and furniture I can sell, so I can buy something similar, but smaller.

Sure, I'm only 4 months along, but I'm also 4 months along and it seriously feels like I just barely found out I was pregnant.  In other words, time is going by quickly and the new baby will be here before I know it, so there really is no reason to procrastinate.

And then there's the ultimate dilemma:  what to name the baby.  This will be an easier decision to make once we know the gender of our child {which we should find out in less than 2 weeks!}.  We were dead set on Isabelle from the moment we found out we were pregnant, so, again, this "up in the air-ness" with the name is only slightly annoying me.

Overall, I suppose I didn't expect to feel so unprepared this time around.  But, like all things, it will work out.  I just know it!

Thoughts?

MUSIC mondays: FAMILY TREE

One of my very favorite artists is FRANCES ENGLAND.  I have actually featured her before here on MUSIC mondays, but I had to feature her again because of her song FAMILY TREE.

The first time I heard this song, I knew, if I ever had another baby, I'd use it when announcing the pregnancy to my friends and family.

Well, my friends, I was finally able to make that video.  It's one of me talking with Isabelle and asking her if she'd like a baby brother or sister, and then I tell her that a new sibling is one the way!  In the background, the song is playing.  It's just how I imagined it would be!

  I would love to share it on my blog, but don't feel comfortable doing so since it's all Isabelle and I'm not sure I want her out there on the WWW.

Anyway, below is a playlist I managed to find on England's website.  Check out them out!

Oh, and in case there is any confusion, I am pregnant.  Due in Februrary.  More details to come!

my WEEK

Last Thursday, exactly one hour before I was scheduled to be at work, my daughter had explosion issues.  I didn't worry at first, but it just wouldn't stop. 

I immediately called the baby-sitter and told her not to worry about watching Isabelle.

I frantically called my husband, practically begging him to come home from work early.

Then I called my work, explained my situation and said I would be possibly 30 minutes late.

I heard there were a few more explosions while I was at work.

...

On Monday, it started all over again.  At basically the same time of day:  right before I had to go to work.

Seriously?

My mom agreed to watch Isabelle.  Thankfully I had one Pull-Up left in the house.  Unfortunately, it didn't last long, but Isabelle was nice enough to not put her grandma through any torture.

Once Dustin got home, there were a few more explosions - literally one right after the other.

And Dustin threw up because of it all.

That night, while the rest of the world was sleeping, we had to give two emergency baths plus a few loads of laundry.

...

The fun-ness of it all continued on Tuesday.  Thankfully I didn't have to work that day, so all we did was sit around and do nothing.

I'll admit, it was pretty much awesome, ya know, in between all the baths and clean up and dry heaving.

 My FB status that day:  "Parenthood is full of endless joy.  And endless diarrhea."

...

Last night, Isabelle woke up every hour with night terrors.  She was easy to calm down, but getting up and out of bed got a little old.

Eventually, I caved and brought her into our bed.  We needed some serious sleep, and the screaming stopped once we did that.

And then she peed in our bed.

...

Well, that's been my week.  How about you?

the SO-CALLED MOTHERHOOD bond

I think when a woman becomes a mother, she automatically becomes a member of a club.  A motherhood club, so to speak.  As technology has expanded and become more sophisticated, it's easier now more than ever to connect with other mothers and to share experiences with one another.

Blogs, Facebook, Twitter, etc., are all avenues in which mothers can interact with one another, lift each other up, give advice, extend sympathy and overall be there for one another.

But it seems as though our bond with other mothers seems to disappear as soon as we walk outside our homes.  When we face life in the flesh, and not behind our computer screens, it's everyone for herself.

Minutes after my daughter was born, my doctor commented on her screaming.  He said he had never heard a newborn make such noise.  I had no idea how my daughter's lungs would be such a source of stress, anger, humiliation and bitterness for me as time passed.

I've seen mother's glare at me.  I've seen them stare at me.  I've watched them put their hands over their ears.  I've seen them shake their heads.  I've heard them make comments under their breath.

All the while, I am thinking to myself, "Haven't you been in my shoes?  Don't you know exactly what I am going through as I struggle to keep my child well-behaved in public?  Your reaction to me is one that implies I enjoy dealing with a loud child in public."

I just don't get it.  Where's the love?  Is it something that only exists when commenting on a blog post?

I have a part-time job at a retail store.  I see mother's shop with their children on a daily basis.  I hear them plead with their children to sit still.  I see them struggle as they try to get their shopping done.  I hear them apologize to me or fellow shoppers for how much noise they are making.  It is abundantly clear that these mothers are mortified and want nothing more to get what they came to buy and leave.

So, what do I do?

I approach the mother's and ask them if they need help.  More often than not, if children see me they either calm down and get shy or they want to talk to me.  Either way, it's easier on the mother and allows her to get done what she needs to.

Many times, I let the mother know I completely understand how she is feeling.  I tell her I have been in her shoes more times than I'd like to admit.

My goal as an employee and as a mother is to let these women know that I get it.  I completely, 100% get it.  And that I am not there to judge them.  I'm there to help them.  I'm there to let them know that they are not alone.

So, the next time  you find yourself in a store and  you hear a child throwing a tantrum, maybe just offer the struggling mother a smile.  

After all, you know exactly how she feels, right?

M is for MOTHERHOOD

This is a post I originally wrote right before Isabelle turned one year old.  I enjoy reading my previous posts, especially when it comes to motherhood.  Motherhood has rocked my world.  I don't think I'll ever consider myself anything but a "new mom" just because I feel like I'm constantly learning new things and changing and growing as a person all the while taking care of my little Bellie.

Enjoy!

THE HOSPITAL EXPERIENCE

My doctor decided to induce me six days before my due date because I was progressing well and my blood pressure was so high. It was a surreal experience waking up the morning of my appointment knowing, in a matter of hours, Isabelle would be here. It was much less exciting than having my water break randomly and rushing to the hospital, but I personally preferred having more control over the situation.

After I was hooked up to all the machines, I learned I was in the middle of a contraction. My labor and delivery nurse asked if I was in any pain, which I wasn't. I realize now (assuming the nurses/doctors would've let me), had I got the epidural as soon as I arrived I may have escaped the pain of contractions altogether. Because I waited a few hours before asking for the epidural, I now know the pain and discomfort they cause. It wasn't an enjoyable experience by any stretch of the imagination, but I'm glad I know what they feel like.

I've come to the conclusion that more often than not, nurses are really inconsiderate, condescending and overall lame. While I really liked my labor and delivery nurse, my recovery nurse and Isabelle's nurse were not my favorite. My nurse didn't seem too concerned with my needs, but rather getting through her shift. Isabelle's nurse focused more on scaring me half to death by letting me know all the horrible things that could happen if I didn't follow her guidance explicitly. I suppose I could've asked for new nurses, but taking my ER experiences into consideration I knew I didn't have a great pool of people to choose from. Bottom line, I learned not to take them too seriously.

THE INSTANT BOND

Being pregnant was a wonderful experience for me. I realize I had a cake walk of a pregnancy compared to others, but feeling Isabelle and experiencing her movement multiple times a day was very fun. She and I were buddies and it was a special 9 months.

On the other hand....

All of my life, I heard women express the instant bond they felt the first time they saw their baby. This was definitely not the case for me. Isabelle was born 5.5 hours after I got to the hospital. It was a very fast process and I pretty much went from one thing to the next with very few "waiting" periods. Before I knew it, I was looking at Isabelle. The first thing I remember thinking is how much she looked like Dustin. I wasn't overcome with any strong feelings. It wasn't until a few weeks had gone by that I began to bond and love her the way I always imagined. The bond grew when I knew she trusted me, when she recognized me and smile at me. It's a little difficult for me to admit I didn't bond with my daughter right away, but that's just how it happened.

FULL-TIME MOM

Anyone who reads my blog on a regular basis knows the transition from full-time employee to full-time mom was not easy for me. I had no idea how much I relied on my job for validation and a sense of worth and purpose. It was very difficult for me to appreciate the role of a stay-at-home-mom. Often times, I felt like I wasn't doing enough or that I was lazy. It wasn't until months had gone by that things started to click. It sounds very irrational, even ludicrous, that I didn't realize the importance of what I was doing, but I'm glad I went through it all because it was a great learning experience for me.

INFORMATION VS. INSTINCTS

My Bachelor's degree is in Family Studies. While in school, I often joked about how I would be such a great parent because I studied so much about parenting skills, childhood development, etc. As soon as Isabelle was born, I learned that my wealth of information wasn't always useful or practical. In fact, doing what "they" say you should was usually overshadowed by what would work in the here and now. While having information is a great tool and I refer to it often, I learned it was also important not to overlook my instincts and to trust my abilities. After all, "they" don't know everything. :) (Side note...during my pregnancy I started to read "What to Expect When You're Expecting." After a few chapters, I decided to use the book as a reference when I had a specific question. I liked this routine because it helped me focus on what was really going on with my body rather than filling my mind with what could potentially happen.)

TV

Although unexpected, my view of TV has changed this past year. I'm a big fan of crime shows, but I can no longer stomach watching shows in which children are harmed. It used to be just TV, nothing personal. Now, it's really personal. While I'm not paranoid or live in constant fear, I now realize more than ever the importance of good quality entertainment.

I always knew child abuse in any form was wrong; however, I now believe a person that abuses a child is nothing short of evil.

And now, last but not least........

DUSTIN

I absolutely love Dustin. He is a great husband and father. He is always there for me when I need him. I know he was nervous and unsure about having a baby, but I know that throughout this year he has grown to love Isabelle in a way I don't think he anticipated. I know he enjoys being a father.

Isabelle absolutely adores him. She knows when she hears the sound of the garage door opening, it means daddy is home from work. She gets so excited that she screams when she see him walk through the door. I love watching the two of them interact.

In the end, this year has left me feeling so content, so complete. I love my little family and I look forward to all the challenges and fun times that lie ahead.

P.S.

They say "it's different with your own kids." It's true. There's no explaining it. It's just true.

F is for FLEXIBILITY

My high school gym teacher always had her students stretch at the beginning of class.  I remember her explaining to the class that stretching and being flexible is so important because as we grow and age our bodies change.  But, she told us, if we did stretching exercises each day, we would have less problems later in life.

Source

I don't know why I've always remembered that, and I think I'm going to have to start doing my stretching exercises every day because I think bending over to pick something off the floor will prove useful throughout my entire life.

But, this post isn't just about the importance of physical flexibility.  It's more about being flexible in life.  I have learned that life tends to throw a lot of curve balls.  I have also come to believe that all things happen for a reason.  Because of this, when life takes me in a different direction that I want or have even planned, I try to look at the situation with a greater perspective.  I often ask what I'm suppose to be learning from my new path, or what I'm suppose to be doing instead of what I was wanting to do.

For example, this time last year I had told my husband I felt very strongly about having another baby.  As a family, we were in transition mode.  We were living in a small apartment while we looked for a new house and my husband had just started a new job.  Adding another bundle of joy to the mix was probably the last thing he wanted to do, but we came up with a plan that worked.  Because it took practically no time at all for me to get pregnant the first time, we prepared for me to get pregnant right away.

Well, after a year of trying I'm still not pregnant.  And in some ways I'm surprised and wonder if there is something wrong with me.  But, in other ways, I feel a sense of peace when I think about the fact that maybe it's just not the right time.  I'm not sure why I thought it was the right time a year ago, but life works in mysterious ways sometimes.

Instead of being mad or angry, I'm choosing to be thankful for the daughter I already have.  I'm also choosing to be flexible with my life in terms of where I go from now.  Not too long ago I had this strong impression to apply for a job and am already seeing the benefits the extra income has had on my family.  The time away from my daughter has also proved worthwhile in that I cherish my time with her so much more.  And, my husband and I are making the most of the time we have together, even if it's just cuddling and watching videos on YouTube for a few minutes before we go to bed.

I'm grateful for whatever it is inside me that enables me to be flexible with life.  I'm grateful that when things don't go the way I expect, I'm able move forward and continue to be happy and find joy on the road I've been led to.

a is for ALWAYS ASKING

I am participating in the A to Z Challenge this month.  I plan to continue doing my weekly MUSIC mondays and INSTAGRAM wednesdays throughout the month just in case any of you are big time fans of those posts.

Today's post is inspired by my daughter.  She is ALWAYS ASKING for something.  I seriously mean ALWAYS.  It is a new phase that's she's going through and it's both mentally and physically exhausting.

She always wants the one toy I neglect to get down from the shelf.  As soon as I get her breakfast ready and sit down to eat my own, she's asking for more cereal.  More juice.  More milk.  As soon as she's dressed and ready for the day, she's asking to wear something different.  As soon as we get ready to play outside, she wants to go inside.

It makes for difficult, long days.  She never seems to be content with the here and now.  She is always looking for something else to feed her or entertain her.  Don't get me wrong, I realize this is typical 3 year old behavior, but it's a new development and I'm still adjusting.

You might wonder why I give in to all her demands.  I don't give in to all of them.  And, when I don't, I get to endure a long, loud tantrum.  The easy way out is to definitely give her what she wants, but obviously that is not how I want to raise my daughter.

So, in the meantime, I take it a day at a time.  I try not to be too difficult on myself by constantly wondering why nothing I do seems to suffice.

Of course, when my daughter says, "Mommy, look," and I glance in her direction only to see her signing "I love you" it makes everything else worthwhile.