Laughing at Trauma

Now that I'm on my third child, the things that used to stress me out, make me laugh. It isn't something I can usually control, but I sometimes find myself laughing hysterically at the things that make my baby cry. My oldest children are proof that kids are not easily damaged, despite what the internet wants you to think. I guess it is justice that I can now laugh at what used to make me sweat and pull my hair out.


I'm not alone. Check out this AWESOMESAUSE Tumblr:
http://reasonsmysoniscrying.tumblr.com/

Today, my darling almost-one-year old and I went through the car wash. Never mind that this is like her eleventyth time through the dang thing. I thought we would have fun once again. We clapped. We sang. We were both into it.

Until the brushes started. And the grinding noises. And the squirting soaps. She LOST it. Big time. We are talking full-on, sad, scared, pathetic weeping. And I lost it too, except in the exact opposite way. I started laughing so hard that I forgot to take her picture (damn, it would have been PERFECT for the baby book!) Fortunately, she had her lovey, Ah Bear, in her seat and frantically clutched him while sucking her fingers, since her mom was being terrible and peeing herself with laughter in the front seat.

Yep, terrible mom according to the interwebs parenting expertz. But according to my results, y'all should be SENDING your kids to my house to be raised! ;)

12 long weeks

Of waiting are over! I'm walking... Sort of. I still need a crutch because I'm only supposed to do about 50 percent on my bad ankle. But I can stand normally!

And this is what comes of an afternoon of practice:

Lovely... And so worth it!

And I'm driving myself to PT tomorrow. Also for the first time in over 12 weeks. And to think, I used to hate driving. Never agin!

We're going to school!

Well, the girls are! It was a tough decision. I never planned on homeschooling forever and when the girls expressed an interest after the holidays, I jumped on it. We met with the principal of their elementary school on Thursday. The girls counted the hours and picked out special outfits. They wrote a list of questions. And they fit right in.

The first thing out of Autumn's mouth when we got in the car was, "I want to go there." Such a relief. When asked what made her want to go she said it was the classroom we saw. "It looks like they do lots of crafts." Which we are not doing much of at home these days.

In fact, we race each day to check off the boxes and not much else. What can I say? I have an increasing mobile baby and a broken leg that I'm still not permitted to use. We are dependent on other people to drive, so we haven't even been to the library in over a month. They are chomping at the bit for more. And I know I won't be able to give it. When I start physical therapy in two weeks, I will have even less time, energy, and patience to give them. I needed to outsource.

I am so glad that we went to see for ourselves, rather than continue to go on the ideas parroted by so many, that school is awful and sucks the "special" out of kids. My guess is that public school parents feel their kids are every bit as special as homeschooled ones. And their kids aren't having anything "stolen" or "sucked" out of them by having their lives enriched by others everyday. I never realized how insulting, classist, and privileged much of the rhetoric around homeschooling is until I walked into that school and met the caring people who lead it. I was embarrassed of my prejudice.

Homeschooling is still an excellent thing to do, in my book. It is still a possibility for us, if public school doesn't work out. But it is going to work out- better than what we have been doing. I know this because I feel an incredible sense of lightness around me and my kids. We are smiling more and arguing less. Complaints of boredom are minimal and they're excited to go.

We know that this is the easy part, making a choice, riding high in our discoveries. When reality sets it, there will be bumps and life is going to be chaotic until we find our new routine. There are going to be bullies, broken friendships, trauma, and tears. And I'm okay with that. Isn't that life? By deliberately sheltering them from those experiences, I was not preparing them for reality. I'm looking forward to the good and the bad that school will bring to us.

Fear is a powerful tool.

A story about how one family rationalized their choice to not vaccinate and then changed their minds:

My oldest was born in 2003. At the time, I knew very little about actual parenting theory or even health. Only a year before she was born, we gave up the wall of soda cubes we stored in our basement for glasses of water. Lacking real relationships in a new town, I turned to internet message boards for friendship and advice. It was the beginning of a new era- moms had just begun flocking to online communities for over sharing and mommy-blogging. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was getting a fat dose of fear-based propaganda and very little evidence for the "advice" peddled by self- appointed experts on the discussion boards at Mothering.commune (yes, that was its name at the time!), Baby Center, iVillage, and SheKnows.

When faced with the choice to vaccinate, my husband and I came adamantly against it. He had just been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis during my second trimester of my first pregnancy. We were reading everything available and talking to doctors and others with the same diagnosis. Theories abounded, some blamed too many vaccines given too soon for the immune system confusion and attack on the nervous system that characterizes MS. We didn't feel that we could take any chances, so we decline the initial round of vaccines given in the newborn period and continued our research.

Confirmation bias is dangerous. It isn't an excuse, but we were young, scared, new parents. Most of the "research" we did was reading books and news pieces shared by "experts" on the discussion boards I frequented. So needless to say, everything seemed to point to not vaccinating. We were regaled with anecdotes of teens having their titers checked after never being vaccinated and having antibodies to measles and other diseases, without ever having received the shots. But more powerfully, we began to meet parents, both online and in person, who looked us in the eye and told us about the damage done to their children by the vaccines they had been given as babies and toddlers.

Not to discount their stories (I don't know enough to do so) BUT this was the era of the Wakefield study that linked MMR to autism and bowel disease. Confirmation bias and use of anecdotes as data was out of control in natural parenting circles. We were trying to do the best thing for our baby and it seemed that not vaccinating her provided more protection than the shots did. We were afraid of both options... but the possibility of contracting and dying from one of the diseases seemed so much more remote than the damaged children in front of us. And even if we didn't know *for sure* whether the damage didn't come from the shots, it just seemed safer to opt out. Since, in the circles we traveled, there seemed to be so many children who affected.

Fear, it is powerful. I'm not saying that I regret the choices to not vaccinate our older children when they were babies. We did the best we could at the time. As I woke up, disengaged from the unscientific community of natural parenting "experts", and began to read a greater variation of literature on the subject with a more open mind I saw the facts differently. This lead to a very different risk/benefit ratio for us. I'm not saying that parents who draw a different conclusion aren't awake, but I do challenge them to read more and question the basis of their choices.

Science is a wonderful thing. Advances in medicine is what will allow me to walk again (in 3 weeks and 2 days, but I'm not counting...) We should be making the best decisions for our family based on facts not fear. Families who are still choosing not to vaccinate or to do it on a different schedule shouldn't be bullied, targeted, or ostracized- there is much more to outbreaks than merely a handful of families. There are very real fears and concerns behind their choice. Knowing this is key to having a civil discourse on the topic.

Dude! A blog post!

Not a very long one, though... between homeschooling my kids and caring for a mobile eight-month old while being short one leg, I don't have much time for introspection, let alone time to write it down. Plus I kinda loathe the whole idea of blogging my thoughts publicly .. I used to write daily in a journal, but when I had kids I stopped because I barely had time to think my own thoughts, let alone write them down. In this case though, I feel like maybe someone else in the vast interwebs might benefit, on some lonely, difficult night, the way I did from all the broken ankle blogs out there...

Today, I found this really awesome article that seems to fit me well in 2013. You see, I suffered a catastrophic dislocation and fracture of my ankle two months ago from this Friday. (It is called Trimalleolar.) The day after I had major surgery called an Open Reduction Internal Fixation (ORIF) during which 13+ screws and a band were used to repair all the damage and rebuild my ankle. How did this happen? Oh, I just fell off a ladder while hanging Christmas lights alone except for my six-month old daughter (at the time) in her walker in the driveway.

Yes, I broke that fundamental rule not to climb up a ladder without a spotter. We all have done it, you say? True, but I'm the only one I know who fell six feet, fucked up her ankle forever, and put a damper on her family's holidays. (Yes, husband, I know everyone had a great Christmas anyway, but STILL it was DIFFERENT and not in the best way!) And so I'm the only one, watching from the couch, as the people in my life scramble to pick up my slack and adjust to life with one less functional parent. After a few weeks, my mind was much more capable than my body. And I found that an idle mind is a dangerous weapon against self-worth and general attitude towards life.

I'm an active person. I ran three miles a day well into the third trimester of my last pregnancy and jumped back into it when my baby was just a few months old. I'm not used to sitting by while things need to be accomplished and volunteers are needed. I- I- I... so much of this became about me and how I was coping, even as I claimed to be concerned about my family's adjustments. I was constantly stressing about how *I* would keep from getting out of shape as I sat on my butt for three months, how *I* was missing out on my baby's milestones because I couldn't hold her or walk with her, and how *I* would manage to do all the things I used to do to keep our house running.

And while I fretted, I missed what was actually happening. My oldest daughter was gaining an incredible sense of self-confidence helping with the actual daily care of her baby sister. My middle daughter was becoming more empathetic, learning to to ask "Do you need anything?" instead of whining about being hungry or bored. My husband was getting to take care of all of us, something that he loves. And the baby was deepening her bond with all of them and her grandparents because she knew she needed all of us to care for her, not just me!

This situation is still an extreme exercise in patience. I am still dependent on people to bring me things that I need because I can't carry them on crutches. The baby is either carried by someone else or pushed around the house in a stroller. I can't walk for four more weeks (from tomorrow.) Meal preparation is difficult because I can only stand for so long on one leg before it cramps. When we go somewhere with lots of walking, I have to take my wheelchair because (again) my good leg can only go for so long before I need to sit. And even as I take back many of my household management responsibilities, I'm mostly telling people what to do instead of actually doing it myself. This can be awkward. And the bills are rolling in to our mailbox. Which fills me with an incredible sense of guilt that my dumb mistake is costing my family our summer plans and leaves us with years of medical debt ahead.

But if I choose to dwell on the frustration, awkwardness, and guilt, I'm not enjoying the good in the people around me. I'm not celebrating the love that they have given me and their growth into the challenge that we have faced together. And I'm not acknowledging that others have faced worse and survived. In the long run, this *will* be just a small bump.

So, from this point on, I am going to try, at least once a day to make a list of what I'm doing right (even if it is just one thing!) It will most often be a mental list (mentalist... haha) but maybe I will get around to blogging it eventually.

The Minutia of Parenting

I will admit to having been sucked into minutia with my first baby. My daughter seemed so perfect and organic in those ultrasound pictures. A clean slate. Unmarked and uncontaminated and I felt it was my job to keep her that way. No drugs at birth and nothing but breast milk, because I didn't want to pollute her tiny body. Heavens, no crying because that released stress hormones that could injure her growing brain. And as little time as possible anywhere but in my arms, since baby equipment is covered in chemicals that might mess with her endocrine system.

And when she was born, my husband and I became focused on the minutia of parenting. Controlling as many aspects of her life because ours had been turned upside down and we didn't know what to do. Obsessing over little details, like whether we should buy organic sheets for our bed, helped us to not think about how our lives would never be the same.

Looking back on it, I laugh at myself because she (and all babies) are far from clean slates at birth. They're "contaminated" by all the things moms eat and drink before they are even pregnant. It is nearly impossible to completely avoid toxins in the environment. And recent news shows that dad's habits can also effect the genetic material they provide, making them responsible for babies not quite being that clean slate that we thought. And I had set an impossibly high bar for myself. I had an epidural during my labor. We gave her lots of medicine as an infant because she was an early teether and had reflux and colic. Breastfeeding was a struggle so she had bottles and we gave her cereal to try to get her to sleep better. She cried for hours every day, regardless of what we did.  Eventually, we had to stop focusing on worrying over every little choice and we started doing what worked for us. We let go of our need to adhere to anyone's standards and let life happen. The minutia became a burden and barrier to happiness rather than a protection and we released it.

It has been almost nine years since this time. Then this year, I had another baby, so I'm in the unique position of comparing the world of parenting over a decade... And I am overwhelmed at the ability of parents to remain in the minutia. Entire product lines, books and websites exist to feed on the fear of parents and keep them obsessing over the details. "If I do this, what will happen to my child, me, my family?!?" There are endless articles and internet memes designed to keep moms (and dads, but mostly moms) questioning their choices for sleep, diapering, feeding and toys. And there is an endless supply of products that claim to be the one to prevent each new problem or protect the child better.

But even more amazing to me, is the willingness of parents to remain in the minutia. It seems normal to obsess over the little things when we first have a baby. Even if it is our third, fifth or tenth child, this little person embodies a big change and lots of hopes and dreams. But it is also normal, eventually, for reality to set in. For parents to stop running on the wheel of fear and perfection and do what works. But what I see in the media, marketplace and online is that many parents are choosing to keep striving for the unreachable standard, allowing their bar to be set by marketers rather than our baby or family.

It just blows my mind.

Am I perfect? No. Do I never feel guilt over the choices I make a a mom? No, but for my sanity I must step back and realize that I am operating from a place of good enough. And that makes me good enough for *my* kids. (And c'mon, I gotta give them something to talk to their therapists about in ten years!)

Life with Lola- Week 17

Seventeen weeks sounds so much longer than three months, four weeks! Seriously, it is amazing to me that this time has gone so fast.

17 weeks of Lola-bird

Last night, we tried something new for bedtime. Both my husband and I have noticed that Lola has been fussing more at bedtime, waking and crying just 10-20 minutes after being put down and then immediately settling when we pick her up. So we decided that it might be time to help her learn to settle herself. My husband did our usual routine of bath, dressing and book. Instead of me nursing her again after the bath (when she usually nods off, despite my best efforts), he rocked her for a few minutes and then told her it was bedtime, laid her down and she fell asleep without much fussing at all. Maybe two minutes of making noise and getting comfortable total, and she was out until 1:30! This is huge.

Then I specifically made a note of how long she nursed last night. She woke at 1:30, 4:00 and 5:00. She didn't nurse long, only long enough to resettle herself and fall back to sleep. This is good news for me, since if she keeps this up, it tells me that she is ready for night weaning. Autumn was ready around the same time, though I kept nursing her at midnight and twice more until she was nearly eight months old. But this time, Lola's signs are very clear that she is waking for contact and help falling asleep rather than nutrition. So at her four month appointment, I'm going to talk to the pediatrician about starting that process.

I must say that I am relieved. We have had a few steps backward, but since she was born, Lola has really been progressing awesomely in sleep on her own. Madeline never did that and we preemptively worked with Autumn to make sure she did. It is reassuring to have a baby who makes the progress with just a bit of gentle guidance.

I'm looking forward to writing about something other than sleep soon!