Becoming a mother opens you up to a world of judgment you never actually realized existed out there. Suddenly, there are a whole plethora of things that you do or like or participate in that are up for debate by anyone and everyone around you, regardless of your interest in others' opinions. Perfect strangers avail you of their opinion and its...annoying to say the least. Your parenting choices are the actions or decisions that are most frequently questioned and if you're not careful, you'll start questioning them yourself.
Yesterday, an old friend messaged me on Facebook. I haven't spoken to this "friend" since we were in school. I barely know him to the point that he might as well be a perfect stranger. This person has no children yet so that's what makes our conversation particularly interesting. So we get to chatting about miscellaneous things like what my husband does, what this friend does for work, and finally the conversation comes around to what I occupy my days with. I went on to explain to him that I chose to stay at home with my son after having him. I returned to work for about 6 months but ultimately decided that I wanted to be home with my son while I could. I am lucky that my husband has a job that affords us this lifestyle and he was very supportive of me quitting my job to stay home full time. I am HAPPY staying at home and I feel fulfilled by what I do. So here's the kicker...
This person says to me, "But I remember you being so smart. Make sure you do go back to work, a mind is a terrible thing to waste."
Uhm, what? I can only use my mind while working outside the home? My job is physically, mentally, and emotionally taxing. I work very, very, very hard every day, just like someone who works outside the home. Please, do me a favor - if you're a parent that works outside the home, pat yourself on the back. Now, if you're a parent who stays home with a child, or children, pat yourself on the back. WE ALL WORK HARD.
And to the person who thinks I can't be fulfilled while chasing around my 18 month old: screw you, sir.
Monday, December 16, 2013
Thursday, December 12, 2013
Staying just a few more minutes...
My son is a terrible sleeper. As in...one of the worst sleeping children on record. He always has been a poor sleeper and while his patterns have changed over these 17 and a half months, the overall sleep in general still, well, sucks. There's just no other way to describe it.
We recently had to change his crib to a toddler bed. Oh, my husband and I wanted to wait. We wanted to push it out as long as possible. For one, no one likes seeing their baby grow up, and two, who wants a mobile toddler in the middle of the night? A sheer inevitability in our house, by the way, considering he's slept through the night less than 10 times in 17 months. Our only saving grace so far is that he can't open doors - so at least he's confined to his bedroom when he wakes up. Anyway, we had to change his bed because - you guessed it! He climbed right the hell out of his bed and I found him by his bedroom door one morning, beaming at me, ever so proud of his accomplishment. I have to say, I was a grab bag of emotions in that moment: proud that he figured it out and didn't hurt himself, terrified because I knew that it meant changing his bed, and sad that my baby was so much less of a baby all of the sudden. Literally, overnight.
So this brings me to my next big hurdle - sleep training. Lots of parents do it and swear by it. I'm sure, in fact, that most parents do it. We tried when my son was about 9 months old and failed...miserably. I am the worst when he starts crying. Unless he's throwing a fit, I give in every. single. time. Especially those pathetic night time, "Please don't leave me" cries. Ugh, like a freaking rusty knife through my heart. But here we were, toddler bed, 17 month old waking countless times a night, needing myself or my husband to sit by his bed for long periods of time, sometimes HOURS for him to fall back asleep. I decided one night earlier this week that I'd had enough. It was time to take control! Babies don't run houses, moms and dads do, amirite???
Wrong. Terribly, completely, incomprehensibly WRONG. My toddler runs this house, at least at night. I lasted 5 minutes, folks. A whole 300 seconds.
The method we were trying is a great method, in theory and probably in practice for parents who are more determined. We put him to bed, hugs and kisses, said goodnight, and left the room. Cue meltdown. We continued to return to his room without saying anything and simply placed him back in bed. He rapidly understood to stay in bed, only...he laid there, sobbing. After this entire process start to finish, at the culmination of these incredibly challenging 300 seconds, I decided something. My son is a terrible sleeper. Not news you say? Well, true. But in re-realizing (did I make that up?) that he is a terrible sleeper, I regained the strength I needed to sit by his bed while he falls asleep. Why? Because one day, in a day near or more likely far, he won't need me to sit by his bed anymore. He won't request mine or his father's presence in the middle of the night anymore. He won't even wake up in the middle of the night anymore. He will sleep right through and I'll go an entire 12 hours without seeing his face.
In this moment of realization, I put my big girl/mom panties on and went into his bedroom to calm his cries. I laid down in that uncomfortable ass teeny tiny bed he has and stroked his hair. I wiped the tears from his face and apologized to him. I apologized for not being strong enough in my convictions as his mother to do what I promised to do when he was born - which was to avoid any sleep training or night crying. I cried into his hair and told him that I loved him and made a vow to never, ever let that happen again. Each night since, I've stayed until he's fallen asleep. I pat his back or hum him a lullaby, or just sit there...but I stay until he is completely asleep. When he wakes in the middle of the night, daddy takes over and sits with him (last night for 2 hours) until he falls back asleep. It can still be frustrating. My husband and I are exhausted and we're expecting our second son in just a few weeks but we keep on. Not because its the right thing for everyone and every child, but because its the right thing for *our* child. I have come to terms with the fact that I will never do things the way other parents do because I'm not parenting their children, I'm parenting mine. We all tweak things to work for our own families...which makes us all great parents in our own right.
Tonight, I heard the marked sigh of my son slipping from consciousness and into slumber. I felt his breathing slow and his body relax as he fell into a deep sleep. Usually this is my cue to peel my big, pregnant butt off the floor and return to the living room to clean up from our day but tonight - tonight I just sat there with my hand on his back and listened to him breathe. I stayed for probably 10 minutes after he fell asleep. Why?
Because one day, he won't want me to anymore. I love you, my sweet son.
We recently had to change his crib to a toddler bed. Oh, my husband and I wanted to wait. We wanted to push it out as long as possible. For one, no one likes seeing their baby grow up, and two, who wants a mobile toddler in the middle of the night? A sheer inevitability in our house, by the way, considering he's slept through the night less than 10 times in 17 months. Our only saving grace so far is that he can't open doors - so at least he's confined to his bedroom when he wakes up. Anyway, we had to change his bed because - you guessed it! He climbed right the hell out of his bed and I found him by his bedroom door one morning, beaming at me, ever so proud of his accomplishment. I have to say, I was a grab bag of emotions in that moment: proud that he figured it out and didn't hurt himself, terrified because I knew that it meant changing his bed, and sad that my baby was so much less of a baby all of the sudden. Literally, overnight.
So this brings me to my next big hurdle - sleep training. Lots of parents do it and swear by it. I'm sure, in fact, that most parents do it. We tried when my son was about 9 months old and failed...miserably. I am the worst when he starts crying. Unless he's throwing a fit, I give in every. single. time. Especially those pathetic night time, "Please don't leave me" cries. Ugh, like a freaking rusty knife through my heart. But here we were, toddler bed, 17 month old waking countless times a night, needing myself or my husband to sit by his bed for long periods of time, sometimes HOURS for him to fall back asleep. I decided one night earlier this week that I'd had enough. It was time to take control! Babies don't run houses, moms and dads do, amirite???
Wrong. Terribly, completely, incomprehensibly WRONG. My toddler runs this house, at least at night. I lasted 5 minutes, folks. A whole 300 seconds.
The method we were trying is a great method, in theory and probably in practice for parents who are more determined. We put him to bed, hugs and kisses, said goodnight, and left the room. Cue meltdown. We continued to return to his room without saying anything and simply placed him back in bed. He rapidly understood to stay in bed, only...he laid there, sobbing. After this entire process start to finish, at the culmination of these incredibly challenging 300 seconds, I decided something. My son is a terrible sleeper. Not news you say? Well, true. But in re-realizing (did I make that up?) that he is a terrible sleeper, I regained the strength I needed to sit by his bed while he falls asleep. Why? Because one day, in a day near or more likely far, he won't need me to sit by his bed anymore. He won't request mine or his father's presence in the middle of the night anymore. He won't even wake up in the middle of the night anymore. He will sleep right through and I'll go an entire 12 hours without seeing his face.
In this moment of realization, I put my big girl/mom panties on and went into his bedroom to calm his cries. I laid down in that uncomfortable ass teeny tiny bed he has and stroked his hair. I wiped the tears from his face and apologized to him. I apologized for not being strong enough in my convictions as his mother to do what I promised to do when he was born - which was to avoid any sleep training or night crying. I cried into his hair and told him that I loved him and made a vow to never, ever let that happen again. Each night since, I've stayed until he's fallen asleep. I pat his back or hum him a lullaby, or just sit there...but I stay until he is completely asleep. When he wakes in the middle of the night, daddy takes over and sits with him (last night for 2 hours) until he falls back asleep. It can still be frustrating. My husband and I are exhausted and we're expecting our second son in just a few weeks but we keep on. Not because its the right thing for everyone and every child, but because its the right thing for *our* child. I have come to terms with the fact that I will never do things the way other parents do because I'm not parenting their children, I'm parenting mine. We all tweak things to work for our own families...which makes us all great parents in our own right.
Tonight, I heard the marked sigh of my son slipping from consciousness and into slumber. I felt his breathing slow and his body relax as he fell into a deep sleep. Usually this is my cue to peel my big, pregnant butt off the floor and return to the living room to clean up from our day but tonight - tonight I just sat there with my hand on his back and listened to him breathe. I stayed for probably 10 minutes after he fell asleep. Why?
Because one day, he won't want me to anymore. I love you, my sweet son.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)