He Can Ask For It.

Let's talk about normal-term breastfeeding.  (Call it extended breastfeeding if you will, but I prefer full-term or normal-term.)

Right now, you are either shuddering or fist-pumping.

Breastfeeding has always been a very important part of my relationship with my kids.  Before Lilah was even conceived, I knew I desperately wanted to breastfeed.  I just didn't know how long I would want or be able to do it.  I tended to agree with that modern adage that if they can ask for it, it's kinda creepy.

Wait. What? That makes absolutely NO sense to me now.

Once I had Lilah, I realized they are always asking for it.  It's simply an evolution.  From making sucky faces to crying to nuzzling into my chest to those first rudimentary attempts at making the sign for "milk" (which both of my kids used long before they could say the word) to lifting up my shirt to saying "milk."  And in Lilah's case, all the way up to 26 months, just before she weaned, when she could say, "Milk please, Mommy."  All of this is normal.

There is no clear line where they go from "asking for it" to really asking for it. Besides, even if there was, why would it make sense to cut them off just when I'm finally really sure what they want? Is that considered normal?

Please understand, I support other moms in whatever length of breastfeeding works for them and their children, whether that be never, a few days, a few months, or a few years.  I'm just saying that I, personally, have changed my tune completely because my child asking for breast milk just doesn't seem like a legitimate reason to stop giving it to them.

Henry is almost 20 months, with a mouthful of teeth, an exploding vocabulary, two- and three-word phrases, and a huge repertoire of songs.

He can definitely ask for it.  And he exercises that right several times a day.  Most of the time, I am happy to oblige.

Sometimes, it's an inconvenience.  The gymnurstics, kicks to the face, and occasional biting can be annoying or even downright painful.  But there are other parts that make it so worthwhile.  His delighted giggle when I say, "Milk? Sure!" and start to lift my shirt.  The cure-all for owies, grumpies, and everything in between. The best way to wake up.  The way he tilts his head to one side and says, "side?" when he wants to switch. His emphatic "buh-bye!" as he pulls down my shirt to show he is all done. These are just a few of the many things that make nursing a toddler feel absolutely natural to me.

Right now, we are both enjoying this aspect of our relationship.  And I plan to continue as long as we both continue to enjoy it. 

Whether that makes you shudder or fist-pump, I really don't mind. Because this is just so... normal.

I'm linking up with some other Vancouver Mom bloggers who are passionate about normal-term breastfeeding.  Drop in on Mama in the City, Hillary with two Ls,  Spokesmama, and One Crazy Kid for more normal-term breastfeeding stories.  If you're a fist-pumper, link up! Or share your thoughts on full-term/normal-term breastfeeding in the comments.

The Invention of Lying Down Games

A couple of weeks ago I had a really rough bout of the stomach flu.  For just over 24 hours, all I could do was sleep, toss my cookies, or writhe around in bed with horrible stomach pains and moan.  I am not exaggerating.  And it took me the better part of a week once that part was over to really feel 100% back to my old self.

In that time, I had to get through a few (mercifully short-lived) times when I was alone with my kids and feeling ill or exhausted.  Enter the invention of lying. down. games.

Through my delirious haze, I somehow managed to convince my kids that it would be really fun to pretend Mommy was a sleeping dragon under the blanket on the couch, and they had to tiptoe around the dragon's cave.  If they were too noisy, the dragon would wake up and make them run laps from the living room to the kitchen.  (In previous, more energetic iterations of the this game, the Mommydragon would tickle them as punishment for their noisiness, but this time the Mommydragon didn't even have the strength for that.) 

Shockingly, they ate it up.  Lilah is still asking to play this game, and my inner Mommydragon is only too happy to oblige.  I'm sure it won't be much longer before she figures out how little effort it requires on my part.  But hey, as long as they're safe and having fun, it passes as parenting, right?

Have you invented any good lying down games I can add to my repertoire for the next time I find myself solo parenting through illness?

Top Ten Reasons I Haven't Been Blogging

You may or may not have noticed that I have been absent for quite a while. The hiatus was unintentional, but there is no shortage of reasons for it. Here are ten of them:

1) We got Netflix. Those of you who have it know what I mean.

2) I'm trying to get back to a healthier lifestyle and fit in 3-4 workouts a week.

3) I started a new job in November. It's only part-time, but the caseload is broader than I'm used to, and I'm spending loads of mental energy learning and growing as a clinician.

4) I have a four-and-a-half-year-old and a 19-month-old, yo. (I know, not really a proper excuse. I'm not the first woman to give birth to two children. But there hardly seem to be enough hours in the day!)

5) I've been too lazy to carry my big girl camera around. I used to find that my photos inspired many of my blog posts. Lately my iPhone has been my go-to.

6) Instagram. See above.

7) The sleep situation at our house has been all over the place for the past few months, meaning that I need to go to bed shortly after my kids if I want to have a hope of getting a good night's sleep. (Well, that's what I should be doing anyway. Netflix says otherwise.)

8) Words with Friends.

9) Despite number 6 and number 8, I am actually making a conscious effort to be truly present when I'm with my kids. Sometimes I succeed at this and sometimes I don't, but I am certainly spending less time on social media and I think my Twitter followers would say I've pretty much dropped off the map.

10) I feel a certain internal tug-of-war when it comes to blogging my thoughts and feelings on motherhood.  I struggle between loyalty to my children and the need to vent when things get frustrating.  It didn't matter so much when Lilah was younger and less aware, but now she picks up on everything and while I want to be real about motherhood, I also want to make sure I don't say things I don't mean simply in the spirit of venting or even just to get a laugh.  Sometimes I treat blogging like a conversation between friends, but the truth is, I am putting something out there on the internet and someday she or Henry may read what I've written.  All this internal struggle has lead to a bit of paralysis, I'm afraid.

What about you? Do you blog in fits and starts like me, or are you more dedicated? And how do you juggle your Netflix schedule with your blogging schedule? ;) I'll take notes!

As A Mother

This post is dedicated to one of my best friends of all time, who, with the joyous birth of her son this morning, was herself reborn - as a mother. 

I wrote this a few weeks ago but, as I've been neglecting my little blog, hadn't gotten around to posting it yet.  I figure today is the day to hit the "publish" button, since this  everything I want her to know about motherhood.  I only hope it isn't too dark for such a happy occasion.

As a mother, your life will be forever changed.

As a mother, you will have some of the highest highs and lowest lows you have ever experienced in life.

As a mother, you will come to know certain things. You will develop a sixth sense.  You will become just the slightest bit clairvoyant.

As a mother, you will be a small being's source of nourishment, source of comfort, and whole world.

As a mother, you will know if your child is feverish just by brushing your lips against his forehead.

As a mother, you will sacrifice.

As a mother, your best self and your worst self will meet and shake hands. On a regular basis.

As a mother, you will be needed at just the moment when you thought you could give no more.

As a mother, you will dig down, dig in, dig deep.

As a mother, you will hold on.

As a mother, you will sometimes have to let go.

As a mother, you will deliver magic healing kisses.

As a mother, you will know a new, somewhat uncomfortable, level of vulnerability.

As a mother, you will be your own worst critic.

As a mother, you will find hidden reserves of patience you had no idea you possessed.

As a mother, you will worship ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes.

As a mother, you will experience an unearthly connection to another soul.

As a mother, you will make mistakes.

As a mother, you will have to forgive yourself.

As a mother, you will know a love like no other.

Things I Know... Because I'm Their Mom

This week's Monday Listicles topic is "Things I Shouldn't Know," and I decided to go with a bit of a twist on this one.  About anybody else, I probably shouldn't know these things, but about my own kids?  Knowing these things is part of what defines me as their mother.

I know their internal temperature settings, and I can tell if one of them is feverish just by holding their hand or putting my lips to their forehead.

I know how to tuck them in just so.

I know what they are talking about or pointing to when no one else can figure it out.

I am intimately acquainted with their digestive systems, including what time of day they are likely to need bathroom visits or diaper changes, what faces they make when they are working on something, and other matters that would be considered private if I hadn't birthed them.

I know the name and whereabouts of each doll and stuffed animal that matters to them.  And if I don't, I'm in deep, deep trouble.

I know each of their tickle spots.  And I'm not afraid to use this knowledge.

I know how to give magical kisses that instantly fix boo-boos and owies.

I am acutely aware of their likes and dislikes, especially when food is involved.

I know how to make Lilah laugh until she cackles and snorts, and I know how to make Henry's secret dimple appear.

I know what makes them tick.

I know what true, fierce, and unconditional love feels like.

The Boy Turns One

My sweet, special boy.

He gives open-mouthed, slobbery kisses.

He is constantly "singing."

He eats paper when he thinks I'm not looking.

He is a snuggler, despite being in near-constant motion.

He says a small number of key words, the most important, of course, being "Mama."

He blows kisses.

He giggles like a maniac when his sister does something silly.

He kisses the pages of his books.

He is very ticklish.

He slyly initiates games of chase, silly songs with hand actions, and peekaboo.

He loves food, and eats anything and everything, despite having only two teeth and the tiniest tip of a third just cutting through.

He is already extremely cheeky.

He can throw a ball like nobody's business, and he gets down on his belly to search for it under furniture.

He walks toward me, arms above his head, and then hurls himself the last foot or so, confident that I will always catch him. 

He is pure joy. 

And on August 14th, he turned one.  We celebrated at a cottage in Ontario, where we were visiting with family (more on that in an upcoming post).

That's a carrot cake with cream cheese icing and his name spelled out in raisins.  With mama love baked right in.

Big sister helped blow out the candles.

 

And was excited to see him take his first bite.

You could say he liked it.

And he wasn't the only one.

It was a bittersweet moment in time for me. It is incredibly fulfilling to watch my children grow, but to see my baby looking more like a toddler made me a little nostalgic for the teeny, tiny, snuggly newborn days.  (Minus the sleep deprivation, of course.) Ah, such is the plight of motherhood.

Am I right in assuming that I'm not alone in this?  Do children's birthday parties make you feel a little wistful too?

Life with Young Kids - The Truth

I just couldn't pass up this week's Monday Listicles topic, "10 photos from life with kids."  I have a number of friends who are on the verge of becoming parents or have recently had babies and I thought I'd take this opportunity to impart a few words of wisdom.  You're welcome!

Truths about life with young kids: 

You know how, when you look at other people's kids, and they have snot running down their upper lip and food all over their face, and you think, "I will NEVER let my kids walk around like that?"  The thing is, you will.  And you'll find them irresistibly adorable, even when their noses are snotty and they're covered in sticky food debris.  Sometimes even more so.

They'll give you this look. Frequently.

photo by Adam Schwartz

But then this look will follow closely on its heels, and you'll forget everything else, at least for a few minutes.

They'll come at you like this, especially when you're wearing something brand new and/or white.

They'll try to steal your beer. And your keys. And your phone. The TV remote.  And occasionally your dignity.

photo by Adam Schwartz

You will spend far too many hours of your life trying to dissuade them from eating dirt/sand/gravel/rocks, drinking from dirty sesspools, and generally endangering themselves and others.  It's kind of exhausting.

You will do whatever you can to help them pursue their interests, even when those change more often than their clothes.

They'll make you see the world through new eyes.

They'll make you see their co-creator through new eyes.

They'll teach you more about yourself than you learned in the entire first thirty-odd years of your life before they came along.

The truth?  The truth is, life with kids, while beautiful and fulfilling, is also messy, chaotic, and quite often even uncomfortable. Let's face it, it ain't all unicorns and rainbows. But we parents must be eternal optimists. (Either that, or complete fools.) Because somehow, the unicorn-rainbow moments are the ones that stay with us.

"What's With the Band-Aid?"

You may have noticed something conspicuous and pink on Lilah's forehead in her birthday party pictures.  If you guessed princess Band-Aid, you are correct.  And it's not just for show, unfortunately.

On Friday morning, the day before her birthday party and two days after her fourth birthday, the incident occurred.  I was attempting to make going to the bathroom into a game, since it is something Lilah often resists and it can sometimes take a dramatic turn.  But in my attempt to avoid a big upset, I created even more drama.  I had scooped her up and was playfully stomping towards the bathroom with her in my arms when I heard a sickening thud.  Forehead meeting sharp corner of a wall, Mama's heart in her stomach.

I knew as soon as I saw it that it would probably need stitches.  So off we went to the emergency room at BC Children's.  The final tally was three stitches, two stickers, two popsicles, one plastic fairy wand and one very sorry mama. 

*Warning: the photos below show the cut quite clearly, so if you're squeamish about blood, skip right on down to the comments.

 

Thankfully, she forgave me almost right away.  I took a little longer to get to a place of self-forgiveness, but I'm pretty much there now. 

 

The stitches came out today, and now all that's left is to protect the scar from the sun for, oh, pretty much the rest of her life!

 

 



Four Years in the Making

 
Sometimes, when I take her in, my eyes scanning the familiar lines of her face, shoulders, hands, and long, lean, limbs, my brain registers a vague shock at how much she has grown in four years.  And in her growth, I see my own, exponential in comparison. 

Her now four-year-old spirit thirsts for learning, and she laps up the small drops of knowledge I can impart, not knowing how much she is teaching me in the process.

From that earth-shattering moment on July 3, 2009 (1:31 am, to be exact) when I became a mother for the first time, I have been challenged, stretched, and pushed far beyond what I thought were my limits.  And, as always, with growth and learning come the realization of how little we really know and just how much growth and learning are still possible.

To my big girl who is gradually bringing out the bigness in me,

Happy fourth birthday!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Up in the Air

 

 

This Guy

Whoa.  Extremely long, unintentional hiatus.  Looks like I've got some 'splainin' to do.  But that's another post for another day.

Today I'm going to keep it simple and share some recent iPhone pics.  Seems like a good way to ease my toes back into the blogging pond.

This Guy

 

Destroyer,

 

 

Perpetual sock remover,

 

 

Stander,

 

 

Crawler,

 

 

 

Trouble maker,

 

 

 

And snuggler extraordinaire!

 

 

 

 

 

The Upside of Threeness

Well. I haven't exactly kept it a secret that three has been hard on all of us.  I know I am not the only parent to find this age challenging, as I have often heard three described as "two with intent."  And I would add persistence, and frustration, and sass to that mix as well.  But I would be remiss if I didn't also acknowledge the wonder of three; its thrilling moments and delightful reprieves from the challenging parts.

What is awesome about three?

1.  She still produces adorable mispronunciations like "breppast" for breakfast and "cuptainer" for container.

2.  She has an excellent grasp of language but sometimes can't quite recall a word, so she ballparks it.  She recently asked me, "Are you cereal?" when I told her something she found to be rather outrageous.

3.  Naps are hit or miss, but when we take one together in the big bed and she finally stops wiggling... bliss!

4.  Her attempts at sneakiness are completely transparent.

5.  She tells me she loves me to the moon and back "a frillion frillion times."

 

6.  She still wants to help and takes great pride in being given a job to do.

7.  When she is comfortable, she has no filter, resulting in some hilarious and outrageous statements.  She recently told a visiting guest that he could use "her" bathroom as long as he was only going pee.  Bathroom habits currently top her list of interesting topics of conversation.

8.  She hasn't quite grasped the art of secret-keeping, surprises, or unexpected hiding spots while playing hide and seek.

9.  Her giggles still contain the high notes of babyhood.

10.  Her independence is blossoming but she still needs her mama more often than not.

 

I didn't follow the prompt this week,

but go visit the Listmaster for some more listicle fun.

Embracing...

Embracing:

the dark circles under my tired eyes,

the grey hairs that are becoming more and more commonplace atop my head,

the ever-present messy bun,

the increasingly prominent crows' feet,

and the weird pigment spots that linger long after the pregnancy hormones have gone.

But also:

the softness of his chubby little cheek against mine,

his gummy smile,

the way his eyes light up when I am near,

the fluffy tufts of hair that multiply with each passing day,

fat little wrists and thighs that also seem to get thicker day by day,

his sweet, intoxicating baby smell.

Embracing:

the big picture - all that comes with this thing called motherhood. 

Photo by Adam Schwartz of The Two Hosers Photo Show