Tag Archives: Parenting

mommyhood

Reasons I Feel Sorry for My Second Kid

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Let me preface this post by saying that my little boy is a ray of sunshine to all who know him (me most of all) and I love him dearly. I don’t show preferential treatment to either of my kids, and they are both well taken care of. That being said, parents of two or more kids, you’ll be able to back me up on this…

1. He gets really dirty. When EK was not quite 8 months, she was never really dirty. She played a lot, but she had a nightly bath, and her hands and face were constantly being wiped. J usually gets a nightly bath, but that’s the first thing to go if we’re running late or having a rough night. And as far as wiping his hands and face go, he’s left to the mercy of time… either we have it, or we don’t. EK is always trying to feed him something, or hand him something from the ground that’s covered in dirt. Yikes.

2. He wears a lot of hand-me-downs. Don’t get me wrong – EK did also (they have a lot of cousins). But most of her wardrobe was carefully selected before she was born, in lots of sizes, in sweet little outfits. J’s just wearing whatever I can toss on him before he starts rolling off the changing table.

3. He doesn’t get to play with many toys. EK isn’t a great sharer to begin with, but if it’s her stinky ol’ brother we’re asking her to share with? Well that’s totally unreasonable. Anything he has in his hand automatically becomes hers. And bless him, he doesn’t even cry about it.

4. He doesn’t get as much one-on-one time with Hubby and me. This is one we really try to keep to a minimum. We frequently take one kid each if we’re going separate places, so that each kid gets all the attention. But let’s face it – that first kid got all the attention (from everyone because she was the first grandchild on both sides, also) until J was born.

5. He rarely finishes a nap or night’s sleep. EK is loud. Really loud. And unless she is sleeping when he is waking up, he gets woken up by squeals, cries, or heavy-footed running by his bedroom door.

What are some things you feel like you did for your first that you didn’t (or couldn’t!) with your second?

faith, mommyhood, random thoughts

How It Looks From Here

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I got an interesting comment the other morning. The person said, “I’ve just been reading your blog. Final verdict: parenthood sounds hard.” It was in the middle of a good-natured comment from an old friend, but still took me a little off guard. My first reaction is “Duh! An hour at my house is the only birth control you’ll ever need!” But then, I wondered if I hadn’t been portraying my life the right way. Am I posting too many things that are frustrating or annoying or hard or sad? Should I be glossing over those difficult parts and highlighting only the good? I don’t want anyone to think I have an unusually difficult time with my kids. But I don’t want you to think I have an unusually easy time, either. I just want to be real. Encouraging, but real. (My thoughts on that a little more in depth here.)

Parenthood can look like all sorts of things at different times, different seasons, and to different people. Motherhood can look wonderful. It can look hectic. It can look easy. It can look good, bad, crazy, scary, or sad, depending on the moment. There are times full of snuggles and smiles and eating all the food on their plate and going to bed on time. There are times of skipping naps, toddler tantrums, picky eating, snotty noses, poop-splosions (read about those here) and breaking down to cry. It’s ridiculous how quickly you can go from thinking, “Awesome! I’m doing it! This is great!” to “I can’t wait for Hubby to get home so I can sit down.” or “When does school start back, again?”

In the moments when my toddler has finally fallen asleep, and I’m still laying in her bed, spooning her, for fear she’ll wake up if I move, I drink in the snuggles. I thank God for the moments like this, when she turns back into a baby again, blanket in her mouth (gross, I know) and face softened to chubby cheeks and eyelashes. And maybe I cry a little bit, because I yelled when I shouldn’t have, or I had to harp on her too many times to share with her brother, or I simply was so busy with work and errands that I barely saw her until bedtime. Finding the grace to forgive yourself isn’t easy when you feel like you didn’t do the best you could possibly do. But you know what? I always make time for smooches and snuggles and she’s always fed and rested and clean. If those things are true, my day wasn’t a complete fail.

Sometimes, when one or both of the babes has gotten up in the night, I’m a zombie, and several cups of coffee don’t seem to be giving me the boost I need, we park it in front of the tv for longer than I’d like to admit. We eat whatever is the easiest thing to scrounge up for our meals and snacks, or we pile in the car and get drive-thru burgers and fries. I do no laundry, no dishes, and the only thing I clean is baby bottoms. Talk about the mom version of an under achiever, right? But those days aren’t the norm. They aren’t even common. But sometimes they are necessary to a tired family. When we all take naps on the couch watching some awful Netflix movie like Turtle Tale, it’s not likely I’ll complain that much. Sometimes those are the days that bedtimes come a little easier and less crying jags happen. On days when I “accomplish a lot”, I’ve been vacuuming instead of playing, and there are groceries in the fridge because I lugged my kids through the grocery store… Those are sometimes the ones that there are more frustrating than rewarding.

But what’s the formula here? Is there a way to ensure that my kids have a great day every day, and sleep well every night? I bet not. I bet there isn’t even a formula to ensure that they don’t have a good day and don’t sleep well. I just do the best I can; I love on them, try to teach them right from wrong, feed them (as healthily as I can), help them get rest (even if it means napping with them), foster learning and love of learning (whenever possible), bathe them (sometimes more than once a day), and pray for them. I don’t know how it looks from the outside. Maybe it looks hard to you, or maybe it looks fun! Maybe it looks rewarding, or like something you aren’t ready for right now. All those answers can be the right one.  It’s looked like all of those things from the inside, too. But from where I sit, the mama of two adorable (however crazy) kiddos, I have a blessed life, and I try to bless those kids in return. It’s looking pretty sweet to me.

mommyhood, parenting fails

Mom Fail – The Parrot Edition

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A couple of weeks ago, I took the kids to the children’s museum here in taken with my friend Rochelle and her kids. Her daughter Emery is 3 months older than EK and her son Dean is two months younger than J, so we can clearly see lots of play dates and slumber parties together in our future. Anyway, EK always takes a few minutes to warm up to the museum (we don’t go often enough) so once she got going, she was off. Emery was off in a hundred other directions, so naturally Rochelle and I didn’t spend too much time sitting and chatting. I was wearing J, Rochelle was strolling Dean, and those poor boys didn’t have time to chill.

A brief moment of togetherness, on the troll bridge.
A brief moment of togetherness, on the troll bridge.

Finally, the girls were getting a bit cranky (all four of us!) and needed some lunch, followed by naps all around. We decided on Moe’s, since it’s loud and fast and low-key, not to mention fun food for us all to eat. We packed the kiddos and unpacked the kiddos and ushered the kiddos through the line. Rochelle sandwiched the girls into a booth, and I situated myself in between the boys in their carseat carriers. EK and Emery were like popcorn – one was always popping up, turning around, watching the poor souls who also chose Moe’s as their lunch spot. Rochelle and I were losing our voices saying, “Sit down! Eat your lunch! Sit down! Drink your juice! Sit down! Get off the floor! Sit down! Wipe your mouth!” Talk about a broken record. I don’t feel like we were yelling, but we weren’t whispering. We weren’t being mean, but we were being firm.

After most of the quesadillas were eaten and “juices” (water with a splash of lemonade, of course) were drunk, Emery decided to stand up once more, turn around, and check out what was going on behind her. Rochelle and I had all but given up on finishing lunch sitting nicely, so we didn’t say much. EK, however, had finally gotten the point. She looked up at Emery, and firmly (rudely?) said, “SIT! DOWN! NOW!” Rochelle and I looked at each other… and tried very hard not to laugh. From the mouths of our babes, we hear what we sound like. Not that I needed a reminder that my little girl is a parrot, but I sure got one.

How hard is it, sometimes, to control your tone of voice? I know that when I need to tell EK something several times, my tone escalates each time. I almost always start softly and politely. But after I’ve told/asked several times, I begin to lose my patience. Especially if time or safety or politeness to others is a factor, I get firm and sometimes loud very quickly. I wouldn’t say overall that I’m a yeller, but I do raise the volume a little if the first and second (and third) time I say something doesn’t bring forth the desired response.

That day at Moe’s was a prime example of what she remembered about telling someone to do something. Since then, I have been more conscious of my tone and delivery of directions. I try to have a little more patience and grace. And yes, folks, it’s difficult. I have never claimed to be the most patient person in the world. I find myself hollering things like, “Get your shoes!” across the house as we prepare to go somewhere. If I catch her holding my iPad with one hand, I might shout something like, “Put that down, NOW!” a little less nicely than I could. But I’m improving, and doing the best I can. I’ve always been a loud lady, so teaching my daughter to reign her loudness is at best a little difficult for me. At least I’m honest, right?

Have you had that moment where your parrot child repeats something you’ve said, in that perfect tone of voice, and surprises you? Or even disappoints you?

mommyhood

Big Girl Bedtime Woes

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Before I start on today’s actual post, I want to thank you for the HUGE surge of support and love after my last post. It was really wonderful of y’all to read it, share it, comment on it and message me with thanks and encouragement. You are the BEST. Now, on with the post!

Recently, bedtime with EK has been a marathon. Hubby and I have tried a LOT of different things (now that I’ve said that, maybe that’s the problem?) to get her to go to bed and stay there. When J was born, we moved EK, within a few weeks, to a big girl bed in a different room. We tried moving her before he was born, and we just couldn’t get her to stay in the bed, so he ended up arriving before the switch was complete. She began in that bed just like she was in the crib. It didn’t really occur to her that she could get out on her own. If she woke up, she just called for us and waited for us to get her. She slept the same hours, etc. Then she realized she could get out. This applied mostly to the morning for a while… she’d get up on her own, come into our room, and wake us up, either wanting food or smelling like poop. Or both (blerg).

Nowadays, most nights she gets up 2-4 times after we “put her to bed”, which is a routine that includes a book, singing a song or two, getting a good snuggle in, and kissing her good night and leaving. Sometimes she will even wait up to 15-20 minutes before she climbs out of bed the first time to come find us. We end up putting her back to bed – sometimes staying for a snuggle, sometimes dumping her in there and running out – several times before she’s out for the night. Of course, there’s the odd night that she’s TOTALLY pooped and just goes right to sleep without trouble. But unfortunately even those nights don’t seem to be connected with what we do that day. Even on days where she goes swimming or to the children’s museum or something else different and extra energy-using, she might still get up a few times before she’s down.

((Side note: this is also happening at a time in her development where she’s toying around with getting rid of her nap altogether. Obviously, I say she isn’t ready for that yet, especially if she’s going to sleep late and getting up at the same time (early) so naturally I’m even more concerned about this weird nighttime routine.))

I can tell when we’re getting ready for bed each night that EK is tired. I can tell that she would go to sleep if she’d just let herself. She’s not even asking for anything when she gets up… she doesn’t want water or a snack or a fresh diaper. She just wants to wander around. One night earlier this week, Hubby and I did dishes in the kitchen (her room is at the far end of the house, across the hall from ours) for about 25 minutes after we put her in bed, and we were feeling so great because she hadn’t come looking for us. Well, when we went back to our room to get ready for bed, she was sitting on our bed, cute as pie with her blanket and Daddy’s pillow, playing a game on his phone. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Now I have to worry about her sneaking out of her room, instead of just coming straight for us. Little sneak.

Then there was last night. My grandmother, aunt and cousin are in town, so there are lots of extra hands. I snuggled J to sleep, while EK played with my family, and then I did her routine. She was being so sweet and cuddly (because snuggles are hard to get right now!) that I sang a few extra songs. Hubby obviously thought I’d been in there for a while, so he came back to her room, opened the door (RIGHT as she was falling asleep, of course) to come tag me out. Well she started to stir so I waved him off, thinking I could lull her back to sleep and leave. Wrong, wrong, wrong. She wrapped her arms around my neck so tightly I was pulled down at a weird angle and stuck there. She neeeeever does that. The combined body heat and her and another person is usually so much that she wants to lay on her own. Every time I tried to pry her off just so I could change positions, she would whine and hang on tighter. It was the weirdest phenomenon. I ended up just scooping her up in my lap, and she fell asleep on my chest… in the worst possible position for me to try to put her down. Finally, I got her off my lap, still awake, and I laid her down and told her I had to go pee-pee in the potty. She let me go and fell asleep, I’m guessing, 10 seconds after I had left. In one way, it was the most annoying and strange thing she’s done during this crazy bedtime thing we’ve got going on right now. But in another way, I was so glad to have those snuggles that I didn’t care if I should have left her 30 minutes earlier. She’s a daddy’s girl in a serious way, so the fact that she wanted to hang on me and keep me in there for the 4613th singing of “Oceans” was the sweetest part of my day.

Now for the real question: what do you do to keep your toddler in his or her bed at night? What’s your bedtime routine?

mommyhood

Parenting Plight #6: Advice-Giving Do-Gooders

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photo cred: www.annaaparicio.com
photo cred: http://www.annaaparicio.com

No, I’m not talking about you. I’m also not talking about people who give me parenting advice because I asked for it. I’m talking about old lady at the grocery store who eyes my crying baby, who I know is hungry, and suggests several remedies (none of which include feeding the hungry baby) to make him “go to sleep”. Thanks a lot, lady. You’re slowing me down when all I want to do is get home with my groceries and nurse my baby to sleep. Cue face palm.

Another scenario: I’m at Lowe’s (home improvement, not grocery) and I’m wearing my freakishly tall 2-year-old on my back in the Boba. Immediately, I get stares. I’m sure people think I’m wearing a 4-year-old on my back. (I am not knocking you if you still wear your 4-year-old. Babywearers unite!) The reason is she’s been a trooper for all of our morning errands, and I just need to pick up this one thing. I know where it is, and I can be in and out in a few minutes. To avoid leaving my fussy toddler in the hot car, or taking 45 minutes to do a task that should take 10, I strap her on my back, and gallop (you know, because I’m a horse now) into the store for my specialty CFL light bulb in a size and wattage that can’t be found anywhere else in the entire world (read: at the grocery store). A concerned man says to me, “She is old enough to walk. Why are you still wearing her on your back? Just put her down.” Okay sir, let me unleash the unkempt, hot, tired, hangry (yes, hangry) toddler on Lowe’s, and see how many items I buy because they’re broken. No thanks.

I love it when Willy Wonka gets me.
I love it when Willy Wonka gets me.

I know most people are well-meaning with their unsolicited advice. That’s why I do my best to smile, thank them, and promise to go straight home to do what they’re suggested. But if I’m honest, even I sometimes feel the need to give pregnant women or first time parents my tips and tricks and advice and stories and… (case in point) But I typically try to stop myself. Or at least wait for them to ask me. Or at the very least not over share.  Okay fine, we all love to share our stories – that’s why I blog, right? Human connection and relationship building. It’s how we make friends; we feel better knowing we aren’t alone. But I don’t force my stories and opinions, and I don’t say them rudely either. Because I’ve been that parent, the one who is tired and on a short fuse. I’ve been the working pregnant mom, just trying to get a little caffeine boost to have a strong finish to my day, even though I know that I’ve got “x” amount of caffeine allowed in a day and I may have already surpassed it. The barista with the huff and the puff and the judgy look can keep it to herself.

Have you gotten unsolicited advice from well-meaning (or judgy) strangers? How did you handle the situation?

faith, mommyhood

We All Need Some Grace

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This article (here) just blew my mind.

10 Promises for Parents. Gospel promises. Gospel promises to mend your aching heart and give you hope. Hope that you aren’t totally screwing it up. Hope that you can keep on moving forward.

On the heels of a particularly horrific afternoon/evening (which coincidentally followed a truly lovely morning) these Scriptures brought tears to my eyes, conviction to my heart and healing  to my soul. There is grace for the anger. There is grace for the tiredness. There is grace for the sadness. There is grace for the mistakes. There is grace for every possible situation in which you find yourself.

Specifically, this verse spoke to me: A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger. (Proverbs 15:1)

How much did I need to hear that?! I have a headstrong toddler. I don’t mean just a toddler. I mean a headstrong, outspoken, defiant, my-way-or-the-highway toddler. She comes by it honest (I’m from a family of just such people) so I can’t hold it against her. But I am butting heads with her over so many things I can barely keep up. Choose my battles, you say? I’m choosing, but she isn’t. I have to keep her safe, clean, fed, watered, and rested. Often, I keep feeling like I have to choose between those because she refuses to give in.

So I needed this reminder of grace. I needed to be reminded that my messy evenings of torturous bedtime routines that drag out for hours can be redeemed. I needed a reminder to speak softly, because my harsh words are thrown back at me from the mouth of my babe. She can be pushy because I can be pushy. She’s loud because I’m loud. Sometimes it’s funny – imagine a rousing rendition of “Let It Go” – but sometimes it’s awful. I needed a reminder that this little one just needs love. She needs patience and grace and love. I realize I’m human and I’m short on all of those things, but there is a fountain of them, flowing out onto me and through me. It’s my job as a mommy (not to mention as a wife!) to channel the flow of patience and grace and love onto my inexplicably wailing, exhausted (and exhausting) two-year-old. Even when I don’t know what to do, there is Someone for me to call on. And God, I’m calling on you. I need that grace, that patience, and that love. I need it desperately, for myself, and for my family. And praise the Lord, it’s coming.

home, mommyhood

Parenting Plight #3: Laundry

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Everyone does it. Whether they do it at home, out in public with the masses of other people doing it, or downstairs in the basement of their apartment complex, we all do it. Yep. Laundry. In our home, this chore can quickly become the bane of our very existence. For one, neither Hubby nor I are very good at it. Yes, we understand the mechanics. Yes, we can do each step involved in the process correctly. However, we aren’t great at completing all the steps in a reasonable amount of time. Hubby packs the washer, but the clothes don’t usually get into the dryer. I pack the washer, move them to the dryer, and even get them out onto the guest bed (Official Hsu House Laundry Station), but I very rarely fold them. I walk downstairs to the guest room to find my underwear, my favorite jeans, or the kids’ pajamas on a regular basis.

Joseph atop the aptly named "Laundry Mountain"
Joseph atop the aptly named “Laundry Mountain”

So Hubby and I created (on the spot, of course, because we are he is super witty) a little thing we call “Laundry Blitz”. It’s when we put on some music or a movie on the laptop, and wash/dry/fold as many clothes as we possibly can. Sometimes, if things aren’t that bad, it takes us about 30 minutes to get everything folded, separated into the room it should be taken, to put away. Every once in a while Once a month or so, it’s so bad that it takes the two of us a couple of hours (or several shorter sessions) to get everything done. More often than that, I bring up a basket of clean clothes, and never put them away. Then, you guessed it. Those baskets sit until we’ve worn all the clothes in them and they go back downstairs to be loaded again.

I know we have four people, but we all wear more than one outfit a day pretty often, especially the kids, and theirs aren’t often re-wearable. Does anyone else have this problem? Anyone have any great ideas about how to tackle and keep track of the laundry situation?

EDIT 07-02-14: A friend sent me this pic, and I had to add it! Enjoy the irony.
funny-Never-Ending-Story-adult

mommyhood

Parenting Plight #2: Babysitters

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Let me make this clear before I get started: the plight of which I speak isn’t the babysitters themselves. Oh no, our family is blessed with wonderful, sweet babysitters who love and take good care of our kids, including several family members. No, the plight is a different beast altogether.

The plight is the leaving. The preparing for every possible scenario that might occur. The feeling that your phone must be on loud and in a visible spot at all times during whatever it is that you are doing away from the kids. The hoping you don’t get the phone call you’re waiting for. The sneaking out (I know- sneaking causes a whole set of issues- we don’t always do it) while they are distracted doing something else. The feeling that you’ve forgotten to mention something, or forgot to leave a certain item in plain view, or forgot to get cash to pay the sitter with. You know what I mean.

The plight of leaving your kids with someone else must get more comfortable at some point, right? I mean, beyond the missing them and hoping they sleep well, it must get easier the older they are. I remember as a kid, my parents leaving meant that I could probably play board games and watch movies and eat cookies and stay up late with a sweet older girl who would serve, for several years, as a role model and favorite person to see on the occasional weekend my parents went out. But right now, with my two year old and six month old, leaving means that I better have my daughter fed or she won’t eat. And Frozen in the DVD player. And a swaddle (she will NOT sleep without one) ready for emergencies or bedtime. And I better have my son in a happy mood, in his pajamas, with everything he needs for bed already in his crib. And several bottles made and ready to go, because if I only leave one, he will wake up every two hours till I get home and need one. Hubby can’t relate to this, because I have self-diagnosed OCD and he is as laid back as they come. See why we fit together so nicely?

Often, we are lucky enough for our babysitters to be grandparents. They know routines. They know what to do in case of a meltdown. They know where everything is in the house (or in some cases, baby stuff is all there in their own houses). They are familiar, safe faces and personalities. And praise the Lord, they are free. But lately, even they have a little resistance from the too-smart-for-her-own-good toddler. My mom doesn’t like to do bedtime with her right now because she gets up so many times before she is finally down for good, and when she gets up and all she finds is my mom, she is likely going to melt down. Why? No good reason. She loves my mom. She knows Hubby and I are coming home. She has everything she needs (full belly, clean diaper, swaddle, animal friends, etc). She just needs extra love right now, in this stage of her life.

Now, I will say two things, and they are in no way supposed to sound pushy. They are simply my opinion. First of all, the plight of leaving shouldn’t make you feel like you can’t have a date night, or go out with the girls, or even just see a movie by yourself if that’s your thing. We all need a little sanity, a little freedom, and a little time where the company can form complete sentences and drink a glass of wine. Secondly, if you’re in a committed relationship, it is really, REALLY important for you to have some time with your significant other alone… by yourselves. A revolutionary thought, i know. This is my opinion, but I’m also sure it’s true. Your relationship needs time that isn’t interrupted by kids’ meals, baths, naps and bedtimes. Make your person a priority. Don’t read that as “neglect your kids for that person”, but read it as a call to not neglect that person for your kids, if your person is important to you. Hubby and I love spending time together with the kids. We love spending time together at home after the kids are in bed, by ourselves or with friends. But we really appreciate a night out, just the two of us, slowing down, reconnecting, and getting to know each other better. It’s a time to see him as Hubby instead of Dad, for me to be a wife instead of just Mom, and to revisit hopes and dreams and careers and thoughts on life in general, instead of schedules, kids, bills and housework. Remember that time? Yeah. We were living the crazy life. We were doing what we wanted to, when we wanted to. We don’t really want to go back there, but a few hours of doing just that is exactly the therapy we needed.

20140625-020406.jpg
Dinner at The Porch, drinks at Recreation Billiards and music at Bull’s Tavern was our perfect date night.