Confessional # 7

I have not written a blog post in FOREVER!  I apologize to all of my loyal fans and followers.  (That's a joke in case you couldn't tell.)
I figured we were due up for some confessions so here we go:

1.  I am in a very defeated, mopey, sad little mood today because I went to the O.B. and I am not dilated AT ALL and barely effaced.  I knew I shouldn't let myself get hopeful since I am only 36 and a half weeks and because I never dilated much with Liam... but I did get hopeful.  I didn't think I was having the baby today or anything but I just wanted to hear that I had made progress.  I am so tired of being pregnant and I feel like I am not spending enough "quality" time with Liam because I am too tired and achy to play and do the things I wish I could.  I am just over the whole pregnancy thing.  Sooo - in response to not getting my way - today I am not cleaning or doing housework or completing anything on my to do list and just moping and feeling sorry for myself.  Yes, this is childish,  but I am tired (really tired!) and unmotivated.
 
2.  Today at the doctor there was a toddler about Liam's age walking around and playing and exploring and his pregnant mom was chasing him around the waiting room.  I felt bad that I made Liam sit in his stroller and did not let him get out and play but my back was hurting and I didn't want to deal with the inevitable fit that would have ensued when it was time to get back into his stroller. In short,  apparently the other pregnant mama is a stronger woman than I am.  Oh well.

3.  My mail lady and I have a feud going on.  Can you believe that?  Sounds insane.  But it is true.  She hates me and I hate her.  She hates me so much that she ran over our garbage can last week and left a huge dent in it.  I will not bore with you the details.  It is, for the record, 100 % HER fault.

Sorry, wish I had more, maybe my funky little mood and my exhaustion are making it difficult for me to think.  I don't know.  I read once that you should blog every single day in order to keep in the rhythm and the practice of writing and I think that that is probably very true.  I will try and do a much better job of posting more!

Why, yes, I AM mom enough...

The recent Time cover article entitled "Are You Mom Enough?" is getting a lot of buzz... partially because there's a child, who looks like he may be off to college any day, pictured breastfeeding on the cover and partially because the article details the tenets of "Attachment Parenting" which is controversial and guilt-inducing for many parents.  I have seen TV specials and read other articles as well as seen some TV interviews with celebrities as well as with Dr. Sears ("the guy" as far as this stuff goes) about this style of parenting over the years so the ideas explained in Time didn't shock me.  I knew there was a group of people out there who really believed firmly in these parenting principles.  If you don't know what Attachment Parenting is it has to do with spending your entire life attached to your child.  You "wear" the baby (in a sling or backpack, etc.), sleep with the baby, breastfeed the baby until... well... seemingly indefinitely....and pretty much never, ever spend any time apart from your child.  As I mentioned, the "guru" of this whole thing is an old man named Dr. Sears who seems nice enough but who, honestly, kind of makes me angry with his theories which seem to say that parenthood should be all-encompassing and that it is selfish to think otherwise. (For instance: Never let a baby cry... ever.  They are ALWAYS crying for a reason.  You should always go to them immediately.)

People all over the place are discussing this article, this cover and what the title implies about parents (particularly moms, obviously) who don't practice this style of parenting.  The implication is pretty clear to me: ARE YOU MOM ENOUGH TO DEVOTE EVERY MILLISECOND OF YOUR LIFE TO YOUR BABY?  If not... well... be ready for the consequences...  As a stay at home mom I find the "attachment parenting" style completely unrealistic and, frankly, kind of horrible which, of course, makes me feel guilty.  I can't imagine what it makes working moms feel like (I am envisioning absolute nervous breakdowns).  So, in response to the idea that I am expected to do nothing but live, breathe and eat my kids (you know what I mean), I am a mom enough to admit the following things....

I am mom enough to admit that Liam has never spent one night in our bed with us.  This was obviously initially partly due to the SIDS risk and the pediatricians' firm warnings.  Now it is because it is OUR BED and OUR ROOM and the one place in this whole house which does not have ANY of his belongings in it and we like it that way.  At 8:00 at night Liam goes to bed in his room and we get to interact as two grown-ups.  I don't want him in our bed.  Derek will be sleeping all by himself as well. Thankyouverymuch.

I am mom enough to say that Liam only got about 3 weeks worth of breast milk.  He didn't latch on... ever... not once... so I pumped constantly at all hours of the night and day trying to store up a supply for him and I was never, ever able to really produce enough breastmilk so, at about a month old, he went to straight formula.  It was an intense source of guilt at the time but he seems to be doing OK at 14 months old.  He is very bonded to myself and his father and is healthy as an ox.  I think breastfeeding is great but, jeez people, you make a woman feel like a total failure if it just doesn't work out.  Oh, and just for the record, had he latched right on I am pretty sure he would have only breastfed for a year at the absolute most.  I don't care what you say, I am not breastfeeding a 3 year old.  I will try again with Derek but, ultimately, will not give myself heart problems over the whole thing.

I am mom enough to admit that Liam is playing independently on the floor as I type this.  He is not strapped to my back peering over my shoulder at the computer like a little pet monkey.  He is entertaining himself. 

I am mom enough to admit that I love doing stuff without Liam.. like grocery shopping, going out to eat, going to the doctor's office... and the list goes on.  I don't want him with me every second of every single day.  I like him an awful lot and we are buddies but, every now and then, some alone time is pretty great.  In fact, I wish I had more of it.  You want to come babysit my kid?

I am mom enough to admit that, at this point in my pregnancy with Derek, my back hurts so much and so often that I actively  try NOT to carry Liam whenever possible. I think I would rather sit on a bed of nails than carry him in a carrier all day. 

I am mom enought to admit that Liam was sleep trained by "crying it out" and Derek will be too.  I am not going to pretend to like hearing a baby cry from his crib but I DO like that my son goes to bed by himself at the same time every night.

I am mom enough to admit that I worry constantly that I am doing the wrong thing and that my sons will pay for it in the end so I don't need some old gray-haired pediatrician (however well-meaning he may be) pushing guilt-inducing and, in my opinion, unrealistic ideas about parenting and motherhood down my throat. 

I am mom enough to say that I will love my children to the end of the world and back and that they will always be incredibly important to their father and I but they cannot and will not be the only thing I think about, my ONLY priority and my ONLY reason for existence... and I will not be holding them and cuddling them every second of their childhood.  I am willing to run the risk that this will turn them into serial killers.

As a mom, I am enough... I am doing enough, trying enough, working hard enough and putting in enough hours.  I am doing the absolutely best that I can and, if it doesn't seem like enough based on some ideal outlined in a magazine then oh freaking well.  And I mean that. 

If you're a mom out there worrying about the  things that this article says please give yourself a late Mother's Day present and forget you ever read it or heard about it and continue to do your best.  

My Daniel

I like to think of myself as a good mom.   All moms do, right? I like to think that I am doing a really good job most days and that my son feels loved, is well-nourished and cared for and is going to grow up to be an awesome guy someday.   This is at the core of everything I do and who I am.  It is the most important role I will ever play.  If I fail at raising good sons, I don't know that any other accomplishment would ever matter to me much at all.   I am proud of my role as a mother.   But I have to admit something --- The truth of the matter is that I could not be half of the mom that I am if it weren't for my husband, Daniel.  He is a great dad because he is IN LOVE with his kids (the one outside of the belly and the one inside) and he is affectionate and doting.  He is not afraid of dirty diapers or bath time.  He feeds Liam his bedtime bottle every single night.  He lays his hands on my stomach every day waiting for Derek to kick.  BUT the biggest reason he is a great dad is because he is a great husband.   From the big things (He is a great provider and a hard worker) to the little ones (He brings me home surprises like my favorite candies or, lately, Limeade Sparklers from Taco Bell!)  he  finds ways to show me that he loves me often.  Sometimes he forgets to behave and is short or snappy with me or blames me for things that are (clearly) not my fault but he usually apologizes quickly.  He can be a bit of a smartass (OK the biggest smartass in history) and he forgets to do half of what I ask him to do without being reminded... a hundred times.  That's OK and I will tell you why.  This is a secret so don't tell anyone.
 I am not perfect either.

I don't always like to admit it but I am neurotic and naggy and overly sensitive.  I am crabby in the morning and can be a bit of a know it all.  And I am terrible at saying, "Sorry."  (That's mostly because I am never wrong).

We are both obnoxious and pushy in our own ways.  We like things our own way.  We pick on each other quite a bit.  We almost always end up arguing on long car rides. But the truth of the matter is that we really, really love each other.   We really, really couldn't imagine life without each other.  We are madly in love with our sons.  We are decent people trying to build a decent life for each other and, most importantly, Liam and Derek.   We make each other better parents and better people.  He teaches me to let things go and I teach him to pay attention to what is important.   I hope, I really hope, our sons are silly like him and have fun in life like he does.  I hope they blast their music in their cars and sing.  (I hate loud music but I like the IDEA of it... the freedom and joy that it symbolizes.)   I hope they work hard like he does.  I hope they compliment my cooking (and all other women's) like he does.  That's a great quality in a man.  I hope they are good husbands and good friends and wonderful fathers... fiercely protective and loyal.  And they better know how much their mother loves their father.  Even if I yell at him some days or try and boss him around (He needs it!  He forgets EVERYTHING, I'm telling you!!!) they better know that we, as a family, are four... a unit.  Without one of us, we are nothing.  

Most of all, I hope they know that they don't have to worry... that their mother and father will always fix whatever is broken...

BUT PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, let them be better at remembering things!!!!!

First year we were married.  At a bar.  This pic sort of sums us up. (Check out Daniel's hair!... and no beard!)

Fourth year.  No more bars. This pic also sort of sums us up. (Derek was there too!!)

Confessional

I have seen this done on a few other blogs and think it seems fun.  This is how it works:

1. I confess my deep, dark secrets. 
2. You don't judge me. 
3.  Then YOU try it.  Confess.  On the comment section or on FB or on your own blog.
4.  We all feel better.

I think it could be pretty therapeutic.

Confession # 1:  I ate Cheetos for breakfast. This is terrible because it would be an unbalanced and unhealthy breakfast for anyone but pretty darn atrocious because I am pregnant.  I know that.  BUT they were the only thing that really appealed to me.  Anyone whose been pregnant knows that sometimes you can only think of one thing that sounds good to eat.  Sometimes that one thing is artifically colored and greasy.  I PROMISE to eat a healthier lunch.

Confession # 2:  Liam dropped his cracker on the floor just now... and I picked it up and gave it back to him.  In my defense, the floor was mopped yesterday afternoon and just swept this morning.  Does the 5 second rule apply to babies? Don't call Child Protective Services.

Confession # 3:  I am soooo looking forward to 1:30 today.  It is Liam's naptime.  This may sound not so bad because any mom knows a whiney baby is rarely missed at his nap time.  The problem? He has been in an awesome mood all day and is the best kid ever almost every day... but I just want to watch TV and zone out. 

Confession # 4:  We don't brush Liam's teeth every day... not even every other day.  I feel badly because they say we are supposed to but it just seems excessive and unnecessary.  They get brushed maybe 2 times a week. 

Confession # 5:  I was going to to go to the park and walk today.  I really planned on it.  We were going to run to Target and then go to the  park.  When we left Target I just didn't feel like it.. didn't have a great reason... just didn't feel like it.  I drove right past the park and came on home.  Soooo, to recap -  I ate Cheetos for breakfast, didn't walk, and can't wait to zone out and watch TV.  I am basically a lazy fattie today.  Oh well.  There's always tomorrow I suppose.

That was FUN!  You guys try.  Don't leave me hanging here.  I can't be the only one with some confessions today.