Losing Her

Five years.  It’s been five years since I lay on that table, joyfully looking at the screen, waiting to see that little light flash steadily, solidly.  Five years.  Five years since the silence and darkness of that tiny room enveloped us as the technician quietly asked us to wait a moment.  I knew.  I knew right then.  Case didn’t want to believe it and CJ was so tiny, but I knew.  Then came the motions, walking across the street, waiting for the blood draw, the long drive home from Philadelphia, the sleepless night, and the phone ringing, ringing, ringing at my desk.  I didn’t want to answer because I knew. 

“Courtney, the baby is gone.  I think you need to come in so we can help.” 

Was it silence or deafening screams that I heard?  I don’t remember.  I just remember taking notes like I always did for an exam.  Numbers low.  Cramping might occur.  Come in on Friday.  We can find out why.  I’ll take care of you.  Swallowing the dark air that suddenly filled the room.  That voice of the stranger (me).

“I understand.  I understand.  Yes, I understand.” 

Click as I set the phone down, the hollow dial tone as I picked it back up to call for a ride.

“Come and get me.  Our baby is gone and I can’t get her back.”

The quiet days that followed.  Waiting to drive back to Philadelphia, back to the hospital where CJ was born, back to see Dr. Shawl with his endless jokes and kind eyes, only knowing that this time I’d leave empty.  Empty in a way that I never thought possible.  Dropped CJ off and headed to wait.  Wait for hours and hours.  The clock rhythmically clicking.  Almost all day.  Had to fit me in between all of those blessed women who were sweating and crying as they brought those beautiful souls into the world.

“McGinnis?  McGinnis?  It’s time to go.  Walk across next door.”

The long walk.  The fleeting thought that they would be wrong.  She would be happily sleeping nestled against my heart.   That the dating was wrong.  That they forgot to hook up the heart monitor. Changing into the gown.  Silent tears sliding down my cheek.  Case always there.  Holding my hand.  Avoiding my eyes.  Staying strong.  Excusing himself as the kindly nurse came to prep me.

“I know what you are going through.  I’ve lost eight myself.” 

My eyes closing as the wheels start to move.  Bright lights.  Young eager faces poking me.  Their excitement at a new procedure for the day spilling over me.  Technical language.  Steps to the “procedure”. Tears starting to flow.

“What’s wrong?  Are we hurting you?”

“It’s just been a really bad day.” 

What do I say to that young, eager face?  Your triumph toward your education is my worst nightmare?  Your excitement about ripping my child from her warm soft bed is a bit off-putting?  My life will never be the same and you will go out with your friends to celebrate?  I am not going to survive this?

“What will happen to the baby?  Can you give it to me?”

“It’s too small.”

They said there was no reason to “put me under”; a local that will make me sleep would be enough.  The blackness overwhelmed me.  I woke, eyelids fluttering, to bright lights, a dull thud in my head, a hole in my heart, an emptiness that will never be filled. 

“You put up a good fight.”

“What?”

“You put up a good fight.  We had to put you all the way out.  You wouldn’t stop kicking me.”

I fought for her.  It gave me some comfort.  To know that until the end, I was her Mama.  I fought for her.  I fought… but I still left empty handed, empty hearted.  Out the doors.  To the cold car.  Stopping to get our beautiful boy who spent the day playing and eating meatballs.

The days to follow were a blur.  We ran out of town to our favorite place as if escaping the house, the town, and the world would change things.  The flowers came, the cards, the whispered phone calls as I lay, armed draped over my empty womb, on a wet pillow trying to figure out how to get up.

“She’s okay.  She can’t talk now.  Maybe next week.”

Next week came.  I went back to law school, to work, to being a Mama and a wife, returned phone calls, and wrote thank you notes.  The days stretched endlessly and the nights were even longer.  Sleep eluded.  My child breathing in and out kept me up on vigilant watch.  Somehow convinced that he was next, I couldn’t stop looking at him.  If I couldn’t protect the child in my womb, how could I protect the one walking around?  Days passed and the phone rang. 

“She was a girl.  She had Turner Syndrome.  You can try again.  It’s not likely to happen twice.”

We named her then, Lucy Marie McGinnis, our beautiful daughter.  It’s been five years.  I still miss her.  I am grateful for her beautiful sister who came less than a year later and her amazing brother who was my lifeline then.  I tried to listen to everyone say it would be okay.  That time heals all wounds.  Five years.  Life moves on.  Days are happy.  The sun shines.  I love my life.  I love my family.  I am strong.

I am not whole.  Every night I still say good-night to my sweet Lucy.  Why did she have to go? 

Raising A Daughter

I wrote this about a year or so ago after I had made a post on a friends Facebook status. 

The other day I commented on a friend's Facebook page.  The thread was related to raising daughters in a nation that is so gender dominated.  My comment went something like "My daughter is so girly.  It's driving me nuts.  LOL!"  Someone called me out on it.  I'm glad that she did, too.  When I reread the comment I realized how negative it sounded.  It actually sounded like I hated those traits in her.  Not only did the comment sound harsh, it really wasn't true. 

I love those traits in my daughter.  I love to see the compassion in her face as she hugs or rocks her babies.  I love knowing that she is modeling behavior she sees in me so I must be doing something right.  I love how her eyes light up when she sees pretty necklaces and how she always wants a string of beads around her neck.  I love that puts her bags over her arm the way I do with my purse.  I even let her wear her shiny church shoes in the middle of the week because she gets so much happiness out of it.  I love knowing that she will likely change phases a million times and that I have the honor of being at each stage.  I can't wait to do all of the "girly" things that I did so rarely growing up.  I can't wait to share some of these experiences with my own mother as well. 

All of these thoughts made me pause to think about why I never did these things when I was growing up.  Truth is some of it was lack of interest, but a lot of it was fear.  I was a tomboy. I grew up with brothers and boys around the neighborhood.  The only way to fit in was to show how tough I was.  Never ever cry.  Hide all the dolls before they come over.  Blow up your Barbies with the army men.  Never ever cry.  Pretend that tea parties are silly.  Never ever cry.  Only wear a dress when you have to because you are not pretty like the other girls anyway.  Looking back, it seems I was much sillier than the girls with whom I thought I did not relate.

Ceirnan is lucky.  She lives in a world where, if validated, she can be a strong amazing woman and still embrace her femininity.  I want her to have that- if she wants it.  I know that I still struggle with this on a daily basis.  It's only been in the past few years, thanks to an amazing friend, where I really think I've begun to understand that.  Does this mean I'm not going to try to shield her from the hypersexualization and generalizations that society still holds for women and girls?  Of course not!  I want her to understand that these inequities still exist and that she will be fighting them just as all of us do.  However, I want her to the opportunity to try all kinds of things without having to equate them to a boys thing or a girls thing.   She can ride a bike, play baseball, and serve tea to her huge collection of babies if she would like. And yes, she owns a lot of high heels and princess dresses, but if you ask her about princesses the first thing she will likely say is that princess are smart.  We like to make up our own princess stories where the princess saves herself. 


For her brother this means, he can have his nails painted and put on a princess hat or carry a purse if he wants.  For Ceirnan, it means saying baby as one of her first words, but saying Varoom (for her cars) and Hi Ya! (for karate chop) quickly there after.  It means that both of them can grow up knowing that they are beautiful, smart, and confident.  It means allowing her to teach her old Mama a thing or two about accepting yourself.  Gender neutrality does not need to mean a complete role reversal or a denial of what makes an individual special.  It means that all children should have the opportunity to learn, grow, love who they want, and be exposed to all kinds of activities to find their passions.

A year after I wrote most of this and I must say I love raising a daughter.  I was so scared when I found out she was a girl.  I was worried we wouldn't relate.  I was worried I wouldn't know what to say to her or how to help her through all of the challenges that life was going to bring her.  I am still scare to handle those middle school years, the mean girls at school (and make sure she's not one of them), dating, heartbreak, sex, all of those things that break you down a bit while you are growing up.  I want to be a good role model for her and make sure that she understands her worth.  I want that bright smile to keep glowing. 

This is kind of rambling.  I will follow up more with our stance on gender neutrality in the next post.

Extended Breastfeeding

Okay...so I'm coming out with it. I know this particular issue is one that gets people talking and one that most people do not understand. I participate in extended breastfeeding. Ceirnan is 28 months old and she still nurses. Yes, she can talk and usually signals that she's ready to go to sleep by saying, "Mama, I want to nurse." Yes, I was one of those people who used to say that a child who can ask to nurse is too old to be doing it. Yes, when I went to the breastfeeding class, I, and almost all the other pregnant ladies in the room, called the trainer crazy. And yes, there are times when even I think it might be a little creepy. There I said it. However, I am glad that I am trying the self-weaning method at least for now.

The World Health Organization recommends breastfeeding for two years or beyond. That is why I knew I wanted to breastfeed my kids for at least two years. I didn't really think I would do it that long though. I figured once the kids started eating regular food, they'd lose interest. Neither one ever did. I know that there are benefits to allowing them to breastfeed longer. With CJ, I waited until he was about 26 months and then just stopped it one night. No warning for him. Little warning for myself. I just said he's old enough to stop now. What made that day different from the day before I do not know, however. He cried for a few nights and it broke my heart, but he survived and so did I.

With Ceirnan, I thought for sure she'd give it up. She's so active and not one who ever wants to go to sleep. Here we are at 28 months though and her nursing time is her favorite part of the day. I think it's partly because it's Mama and Ceirnan time. She gets me alone. I notice this the most when we are in big groups and she grows tired of all the noise. She's whisper in my ear, "I want to nurse." Well, this made me start reading more about extended breastfeeding and approaches to weaning. I started to think that the self-weaning method makes a lot of sense. Why did I up and tell CJ that one day he was my little boy and the next day he was a big boy and couldn't do this anymore? We didn't potty train him like that. We got him used to the idea of the potty and told him (essentially) to follow his bodies cues. It made me realize that it doesn't make any sense to force Ceirnan to stop feeding if she likes it and it's not hurting her.

I also started to look at research that shows breastfeeding for longer does provide benefits for children. Benefits include reduced risks for ear infections, better vision, decreased risk in diseases such as diabetes, heart disease, and central nervous system degenerative disorders. It also shows that children who are breastfed longer are more likely to be smarter. (See Dr. Sears article) A professor, Kathryn Dettwyler, who happens to teach here at UD, is an expert on breastfeeding and her research shows that children will naturally wean between 2 1/2 to 7. The research has been fascinating to read. What is more fascinating to me is how few women actually breastfeed. According to the CDC, only 14.8% of women are exclusively breastfeeding at 6 months and only 23.8% of women are breastfeeding at all at 12 months. There is lots of research out there and I am fascinated by the subject. I am particularly interested in why American women choose not to breastfeed at such high rates.

Okay, so am I going to let Ceirnan (or my future children) breastfeed until 7? No, not likely, but I don't see anything wrong with her feeding for a while longer. In fact, I believe I am providing her with beneficial nutrients to support her growth and greatly needed emotional support to help her be independent.

Baby-wearing Mama

I am a baby-wearing, extended breastfeeding, co-sleeping, bed-sharing, redirecting, positive parenting, gender-neutral encouraging, child empowering, human respecting, Mama. When I look at those titles I see them as positive things, but I know (and have heard from) many people who seem to think that by choosing to parent in this way, I am somehow going to hurt my children or stunt their emotional growth or be an overprotective parent.

I find these people to completely misunderstand the style of parenting that I embrace. Take discipline for example. When I allow my children to make their own decisions (about the little things) good or bad, they learn independence. We often ask our kids, “do you want to make a good choice or a bad choice (and truthfully, I would even change the word “bad” to another one if I had thought of that early on)?” when it comes to a situation in which their behavior is not stellar. For instance, if my two-year-old is ready to throw a fit rather than start yelling (although that does happen on occasion), I try to redirect her to something that will give her back some control. If she continues, she gets the question. The question then gives her back some sense of control. I am not telling her to behave herself. I am giving her the choice to make the best decision for herself in the given situation. Another question we often ask is do you want to (insert whatever I am trying to get her to do) or do you want to go to the naughty chair? Sometimes she makes the decision to pull herself together and sometimes she chooses to go to the naughty chair (and do whatever behavior we asked her not to do). Why? Why take this much time to deal with the situation? Why not just swat her or put her in her room or yell at her or tell her to shut up? Well, because those things do not teach her to own up to her choices. They only teach her that Mama (or Daddy) is bigger and has more power than she does over her life.

What I find interesting is that I have had people think that this method is too “soft” on them. People have sometimes tried to jump in to correct them while I am using the method to hurry the process along or because they feel children should not be allowed to make those decisions. It really puts me in a strange place and gets my defenses up. I believe it takes a village to raise a child, but sometimes the Mama Mayor (or Daddy Mayor or co-Mayors) need to be in charge. I am a good Mama. My children are good children. However, they are children. They don’t always know the rules. They don’t always know their limits. They don’t always want to be reminded that they are only 5 or 2. I’d rather have them maintain some control over their lives than to correct them on every small detail that will work itself out as they grow a bit older. Moreover, I usually try to ask myself is this behavior that needs to be corrected at all? Is it hurting my child? Could it hurt them or anyone else? Is it something that they should not be doing in another context (school for instance)? If none of those things are happening, I try to evaluate why it is bothering me? For instance, can my son have his nails painted or carry a purse if he wants? Sure. None of that hurts anyone. He’ll either grow out of it or embrace it, but either way it will be his decision. Will I let him wear something that is massively offensive to others (shirts with curse words) when he gets older, probably not, because part of claiming respect for yourself is respecting others as well.

I am not sure if anyone is going to be interested, but I am going to start exploring some of these aspects on this blog- mostly as a way for me to understand how I got here and to share an “alternate” way to parent. (I had no idea that I was “alternative” until I saw a special on TV that labeled a lot of our practices as such.) I also think it would be nice to share these thoughts with my children when they decide to become parents.

Back Again

I decided that I would like to start blogging here again. Sometimes it feels weird to keep two blogs going at once, but our other blog is really meant to be an update on the kids. It's purpose seems different to me so I often feel strange talking about specific issues or questions I have. I think I would like to keep it mainly for those cute updates and use this spot for my thoughts, questions, etc.

I guess what has inspired me to start this again is the lack of another suitable outlet. I, like many moms (and dads) I think, do not have a regular set of friends that I run with on a normal basis. We live far away from family and while we have some good friends here they are faced with same hectic schedules and lack of sleep that we are faced with each week. I am guessing a lot of parents feel this way. I use Facebook to reconnect with friends who are also raising children, but it would be nice to have a few girlfriends to hang out with on a regular basis. Life is also different out here. I never realized how much I missed my roots until my kids started to get a bit bigger. It's like my thought processes do not match those around me anymore. It leaves us feeling isolated even though there are lots of individuals that I like.

I think the thing I want to stress the most before I start blogging is that this is only my (or my and Case's) way of parenting. I never want anyone to think that I am looking down on or questioning how they parent their children. Everyone is different, but I think if we can share tips and thoughts we might be able to save each other a lot of headache and heartache as we try to mentor this beautiful babies into amazing adults.

Kindergarten

The kindergarten search begins. I never could have imagined how much work it would be to figure out where to send my kid to school. The No Child Left Behind Act coupled with a brief stint as a substitute teacher has made me really consider whether or not public school is a good option. Add this to the fact that CJ will be a "young" kindergartner and there is so much research out there on how negatively this can impact boys and you have one confused Mama.

I feel like this is our first big test. This is the really the first big decision that we could royally screw up. It's intimidating. Do we delay kindergarten even though his teacher's say he's clearly smart enough for kindergarten? The issue isn't about smarts, it's about socialization and the ability to focus as well as his peers that are almost a whole year ahead of him. Do we just send him to the local public school because it's kindergarten and how bad can it really go? Can we get him into the kindergarten that I love? If we do get him in, can we afford to pay for it? Are we complete idiots for paying a fortune to send a kid to kindergarten? Should we do the local charter school even though the pictures make the kids look like little soldiers?

I'm feeling very stressed about the process. We're trying to take it one step at a time. We've visited our first school (the one I absolutely love) last weekend. There are some drawbacks, but I met the teacher and it really looks good. CJ liked it. We'll need a scholarship for him to attend that school though. I've made a list of about 6 schools for us to check out. Hopefully, we'll find several that feel right. Then we can look at the financial aspects. I'm beginning to think maybe I should go into corporate law just so that I can have the kind of money it takes to send CJ to a school I really like. It's amazing. I always thought that more time was more important than more money. I hope that is really true.

There's A Black One...

So...it's finally come up. The issue of race has hit our house. It's come up before, of course. CJ, like any child, has noticed the differences in skin tones and commented on who has brown, orange, peach skin before. Never before has he used the word Black to describe someone though. In fact, more than once I heard him correct someone who said a person had black skin..."It's brown not black...you are so silly." This morning though I'm doing a video on Exercise TV and he blurts it out...There's a black one. What? Where do you learn that? It's not like he used a bad word, but it's clear that the meaning had changed in his head. I don't know why or how. I quickly said something like "what do you think of him?" This was in an attempt to figure out where he heard it or if something had been said to him in a negative way. His response was "He looks cool." I let it go.

Now I am on the computer trying to locate information on how to teach my 4-year-old about race. I am feeling good about the positive steps we've made. CJ is exposed to diverse groups of people (although not as diverse as I would like) and we do take him to cultural events all the time. Many of his books are multicultural and many of his favorite shows are multicultural. That's great. I'm glad we can bring all of the positive images and experiences to him. I just don't know how to teach him the history and how to negate the negative images and stereotypes that he injests on a daily basis on TV and out and about around town. Is it appropriate to start explaining it to him now? I think it is. I don't believe in the "we're all the same" mentality because we are not all the same. I want him to know and understand (at the appropriate level for his age) that society isn't set up on an even playing field and that individuals face all kinds of different barriers (not just racial). Most importantly, I want him to understand that it's our responsibility to help lower those barriers not only for ourselves, but for other individuals as well.

If anyone has any great resources on the subject of teaching children about race, can you please forward me the titles? I am guessing that Ronald Takiki is a bit advanced, but simply putting on his favorite Little Bill episodes is probably not advanced enough at this point.

Technology Repeated

Okay...so I know I posted about technology awhile ago, but I have to bring it up again. I am just amazed by how easy it is for CJ to use technology. CJ has been playing on the computer for about 6 months. We would log him on to PBS Kids and sit and play games with him. We slowly began to let him play a few times on his own. About a month ago though Case was in the other room finishing up laundry when he heard what sounded like one of the games on PBS Kids. Thinking it strange as the laptop had been turned off and the lid was closed he came out to see what was going on. When he walked out he could not believe it. CJ had opened the computer, pushed the start button, clicked on the Internet, typed in PBS until the PBS Kids info came up, clicked on it, and picked out a game. He was happily playing the Georgie game. He just turned four in July. We were just shocked. He was told no playing computer without Mama or Daddy's permission. I just think it's so strange how kids just pick up on it. Mind you, Case or I are usually on the computer between school and work. Still I can't believe how easy it was for him to pick up. Now Case and I are trying to figure out if we need parental blocks and how to put them on. I just wonder if other kids are like this and if so what parents are doing about it. I know the suggestion is no more than two hours of total screen time per day, but honestly most days he gets more than that especially during the summer when he didn't have school.

Notice

So something really hit me this week and I wonder how many of my friends face the same thing so I thought I'd write about it. This week I came home from work and went about the evening as I do every night. About 4 hours or so after I was home, Casey finally asked me how I like his face. Those of you who know him know that he has a goatee. Now that he's a stay-at-home Dad his goatee can often times get a bit scraggly as it isn't so important for him to look groomed for the kids. Anyway, I really like it when he trims it down and shows a bit more of his face. I looked up from my book and saw that he had done just that, trimmed it down, and it looked great. It dawned on me that he had to have done it earlier that morning in the shower. I had seen that day for lunch and had been sitting no farther than 10 feet from him for over five hours and had not even noticed. It startled me a bit.

It's made me think how often do we go through life not noticing. Not seeing what is right in front of us. Case and I, like many couples with children, are often distracted. Added to the normal responsibilities, one of us is always in school in the evenings so we often pass by each other without much interaction. We are working on this. Still the fact that I obviously had not even looked at his face really bothered me. I remember when we were young how I could sit for hours and just stare into his big blue eyes. It's not that I have time to do that anymore, but you would like I would at least notice his face.

Last night it was the same type of thing. I came home from work. Case left for school. CJ was taking a nap. Ceirnan and I were playing when I suddenly remembered I needed to get on the computer to check on a work e-mail. Next thing I know I've spent over 20 min. looking at e-mail, checking Facebook, paying an online bill, and not being present. I wasted almost 20 min of time while Ceirnan crawled around. Oh, I looked up to make sure she was okay, but I really didn't see her. It made me sad to think about. I closed the computer and have vowed to stop...just stop...take notice...be present.

Technology Generation

Aah...technology. We all use it. We all love it. At least most of us do. I know I am certainly not the most technology driven person, but I use a fair bit of it each day. Why am I bring this up? Well, I'm a bit scared about where all this technology is taken us. As a college instructor, I am constantly reminding my students to put their phones away or watching them clearly spending time IMing on their computers while I am trying to teach. As a law school student, I saw the complete panic some of the younger students (I was about 10 years older than most of them) had when a professor simply stated no computers allowed in this class. I always found it interesting, but now finding that balance has become crucial to me.

CJ has become the technology wizard. He loves it. He sends text messages every night to his Nana. He could spend all day on the computer if we let him. We don't even have to help him. He knows how to use the mouse and flip back and forth around pbskids.org and sproutonline.com faster than I do. He loves it. On one hand, I figure it's better than TV because at least he's interacting and is playing educational games. He likes the games dealing with numbers and math the best. It's truly amazing to watch him click and navigate the web like it's second nature to him. On the other hand, I don't want him to become so addicted to those games that things like Chutes and Ladders are no longer fun. Don't get me wrong. He has a brilliant imagination, but I do worry that he'll lose that ability if he spends so much time on a something that can create things for him. Ceirnan is in on the act too. She has definitely figured out the importance of the cell phone and is always trying to play with the buttons. She loves the remote control too. I'm sure she'll follow right in her brother's footsteps.

I know the simple answer for now is to limit all of his screen time (TV and Computer), but I definitely wonder what a difference it will make in his life as we move forward.

Coolest

Just a quick note to remind myself that having children is brilliant. Last night Ceirnan said Mama for the first time and meant it. It was amazing. Then CJ turned to his Dad and said, "You're my hero." I thought Case's smile would literally explode his face. Then this morning CJ said Case and he were the coolest. Case asked what Mama and Ceirnan were and he said, "well Daddy, they are just sweet...so sweet." I could have hugged him forever.

CJ is just getting smarter and smarter. His newest phrase is "this is incredible! I mean really." He's incredible.

For Girls

So we've hit that time. At almost 4, CJ finally uttered the words...I can't get that. It's for girls. It broke my heart. I know it is related to him going to school because the little girls there often tell him "this is just for girls" but he never really paid attention to them before. This time he flipping through a catalog picking out things for his birthday party and remarked he couldn't get the pink pirate set. Mind you he has the pink pirate cards at home that he loves. It really bothered me as I tried desperately to figure out how to explain to him that he didn't need to follow what society deemed to be appropriate for boys and girls. My mind started racing toward all of the things he might now limit himself to because it was a guys thing. Would my sensitive boy stop caring so much or decide that boys don't cry? Will he feel that he has to play sports instead of paint pictures? Will he give up believing in fairies as they are all marketed toward children? Breathe, Courtney, breathe. This morning he woke up, put on several of Ceirnan's pink and purple hair bows, and decided he wanted to wear at least one for the day which he did while he did his morning run from the stop sign to the car. SIGH.

Bad Parent

So I admit it...I try to be the perfect parent. I do worry about being one (perhaps the only) mom that doesn't stay at home out of all of the moms in CJ's class. I'm always the first to sign up for things and go out of my way to send treats at least once a month. I'm always worried that I am not doing enough or we don't look as engaged as we should be. I find it funny since I really don't worry about what most people think of me as a person. Still when it comes to my kids I don't want them to be negatively affected by my choices.

Anyway, this is way deeper than I wanted to get. What I really wanted to say is that I sent my kid to school today without having given him a bath last night. I know...I know...shocking. LOL! I don't want him to be the smelly kid in class, but I was literally falling asleep on the couch. He was exhausted and started crying. Umm...yeah...it was like 8pm, but sometimes you are just tired. Usually if that happens, I get him up early and either give him a bath or throw him in the shower with Case or I. Today, I let him sleep. Hopefully he wasn't that stinky!

Extreme Parenting

This weekend I was shocked to find out that we are "extreme parents". LOL! There is a show on cable called Extreme Parenting. I wasn't aware, but many of the things that we do are considered extreme. For instance, the show featured a segment on gender neutral parenting. For those of you who read this blog, you know I just talked about how I do think it's important, but there are limitations on it. In the segment, they filmed toys such as a little kitchen and talked about how this kid has a pink castle. CJ has a little kitchen and a purple castle. It never dawned on me that those things were girls toys. They also talked about teaching the boys to cook. CJ has been cooking in our kitchen since he was about two-years-old. He can pretty much make cookies, cupcakes, and brownies without me at this point (except for putting them into the oven). Again, I never realized that I was teaching him a girl thing.

Another segment talked about attachment parenting. It is something I did finally read up on a bit between CJ and Ceirnan as we were practicing portions of it without even knowing. For instance, we co-sleep with our babies. A practice many people are completely against even though there is research out there that shows fewer children die from co-sleeping than from SIDS. We also were not fans of the cry it out method although it worked well for many of our friends. When both the kids were babies, especially for the first three months, they were held practically all day long. With Ceirnan, I have a Moby wrap, which I prefer to wear rather than pushing her in the stroller, but she does get buggy rides too. The funny thing is we did these things because they felt natural to us not because we knew anything about attachment parenting. Reading up on it, only gave me some good information to provide people who chose to criticize our choices. I remember hearing from a family member that our style of parenting would cause our child not to know how to self-sooth. That was completely not what we were finding. He was able to quiet himself quickly and in fact is less likely to come to us when he falls down or bumps himself.

Of course the next point, came breastfeeding. I admit on this some say we're extreme, but I definitely don't think we go as far as many parents do. It's an area everyone needs to decide on there own. I breastfed CJ until just after he 2nd birthday. We decided to let him go that long based on research and suggestions from the World Health Organization. I will likely do the same for Ceirnan if she wants to go that long. She's definitely different than CJ and I can see her wanting to stop before he did. He was in love with breastfeeding and just wanted to cuddle with Mom. Ceirnan has a little more let's get down to business attitude. Plus, she has an older sibling who she wants to be just like.

Anyway, it was an interesting reflection. I guess I'll follow the advice that I give all my friends who are having children. Trust yourself...do what you think is good for your kids...ignore what others say or at the very least take it with a grain of salt.

Life or Something Like It

It's been awhile since I blogged. Life kind of caught me by surprise and I've been working through it a bit. The past three years have brought about so many changes and a great deal of loss. There are nights when I sit up...a lot of nights actually...with a heavy heart wondering when things will "get back on track". The days are not so bad. Life is busy. My children laughing can sustain me for hours. Hugs, kisses, and I love yous are a staple in our house. We seldom go more than an hour without one of us showing some love.

At night though...it's different. I'm often lost. I lay in bed thinking about the kind of woman I want to be...the kind of woman I want my daughter to see. Then things hit me. The loss of my best friend who is still alive but is unreachable to me. The loss of my grandparents and how it ties into my feelings of having no roots. How I used to love the fact that I/we had no roots...we could pick up tomorrow...we could be anywhere we wanted. The realization that ultimately I can only rely on myself and that I must make difficult decisions on my own. I think of how life deals everyone blows and if God is up there what he or she wants us to get from all of this.

Last night was a good night. My father is in town, some friends came for dinner, CJ sang songs for me. All should have been right by the world, but I was still up all night. I miss my daughter. It's strange to me that I can miss a child that was never born. I'm sure it's strange to other people too. I love Ceirnan so much and I think about how if we didn't lose Lucy we wouldn't have Ceirnan. However, I just want both of them. Lucy is just such a real presence in my mind and in my heart. I feel her missing on holidays and I think about what she would be doing now. I know it's a process, but I'm not certain I'll ever feel differently.

Gender Neutral

So I've always planned on raising my children in a gender neutral environment. It's very important to me that they aren't forced to follow specific stereotypes simply because they were born male or female. I touted this philosophy to anyone who would listen before I had children and worked at integrating the philosophy after CJ was born. Recently, however, I've begun to realize how difficult that philosophy is to maintain. In some cases choices I made for toys or clothing colors or books were made simply because I liked them not because they "follow" my philosophy.

I've also noticed that when many people, myself included in some instances, talk of gender neutrality they really mean it more for girls than boys. I caught myself in this conundrum the other day and my reaction blew me away. We were at Kmart dropping in quickly to pick up a pail and shovel on our way down to the beach. We stopped by the clothing section to get a few things for CJ that could carry him until he's ready for spring/summer clothes as he just hit a huge growth spurt. CJ was running around, showing me things, and half paying attention. I was hurried because I wanted us to get the beach before sunset. He grabs a shirt, hugs it to him, and says something like, "Oh, Mama! This is my favorite. I love yellow. I really want it." I glance up from my rummaging through sales racks and say- "That's a girl shirt. Put it back." Then I stopped and thought what have I just said? Does that blow my whole philosophy out the window? I would never tell Ceirnan she couldn't have a shirt out of the boys section. I've been wearing boys clothes all my life. It would never cross my mind to say that to her, yet I'm telling CJ he can't have a girls shirt.

I honestly haven't been able to reconcile it yet or to decide whether to accept that now that he's in school I will be doing things differently or to go back and buy him the yellow shirt. I just know that my reaction surprised me and disappointed me a bit. In other aspects, we make decisions that we didn't even knew were gender neutral. We bought CJ a "Cleaning Caddy" and a little kitchen one Christmas. It never dawned on me that other people would think of these things as girls toys until a friend commented on them to that affect. I should have realized it when they were located in the "girls" section at Toys R Us.

The hard part is as much as we may want to make a difference and raise our children differently, the fact of the matter is they have to function in this society. Is imparting my believes that go against the mainstream going to jeopardize his or her happiness in the end or is imparting those beliefs going to make him or her grow into a self-sustaining, strong individual? Maybe it'll do both. I guess the best thing I can do is keep trying to balance out my kids' lives and try to hold myself accountable to my philosophy.

Breastfeeding

First, I just want to make clear that every mother needs to make a decision about breastfeeding on her own and in the best interest of her child. I have plenty of friends who have chosen formula or have supplemented with formula for a variety of reasons. I am not one of the women who looks down on other mothers for making decisions that are different than my own especially when those decisions are necessary for the happiness or health of their children. All that being said...here is my discussion on breastfeeding.

It's hard. LOL! No one tells women how hard and tiring breastfeeding can be, which is why many women get frustrated and give up. I was lucky. Both on my children took to breastfeeding immediately. Don't get me wrong there is a bit of a learning curve, but they both pretty much latched on right after the were born. CJ didn't let go for two years. I believe in the health benefits of breastfeeding and exclusively provide breast milk for the first year until cow's milk can be given.

It's amazing. It creates, in my opinion, a wonderful bond with your child and allows you time to soak up motherhood. Since they both loved to feed I spent the first 6-8 weeks feeding and feeding and feeding and feeding them. There are times when it doesn't feel amazing. When you are so tired you think you're going to pass out. When you do pass out and then feel guilty because maybe he or she could have fallen. When you realize that you will never again have the same shape you once did.

However, breastfeeding is especially important to me being a working mother. With CJ in particular, I really felt like I was missing out. I had to work;I was in law school during the evenings; and the commute was an hour or so each way. We really couldn't afford for me to stay home or at least we thought we couldn't at the time. The time that I spent breastfeeding was CJ and Mama time. It was the one thing I could give to him that no one else could. With Ceirnan a lot of the same feelings are there, but its not as stressful because my husband is a stay-at-home dad now, we live within five minutes of work, and I finished school.

I remember vividly breastfeeding in the car outside of the law school or running back to Philly (a 60 min. drive) to breastfeed quickly before turning around and going halfway back before school. It was stressful. The more stressful part was pumping. I know some women who swear by it, but the breast pump is my nemesis. I hate it. I hate all that it represents. I hate having to sit in my office and attempt to think about my child (who I am heartbroken to leave) and try to squeeze out enough ounces for the baby while I'm gone.

This time around it's easier. I'm pumping 2-3 bottles a day while she is only eating 1 bottle a day. I've got piles of milk frozen. It's awesome. With CJ I had to pump around 24-32 oz per day since I was gone so much. There were times when it just didn't happen. Then I would panic and be up half the night trying to get a bit more out. Then there are days, like today, when I forget the pump so I just sit here hurting and knowing that it's going to be that much harder tomorrow since my body is catching the signal that I don't need as much milk any more.

I'm glad that I do it. I feel good about it even when people think I'm crazy for it. Even when I get stares from people if I'm out. It makes me feel like I may never be able to give them all that they need, but at least I can give them this.

Progress Report

This week CJ's school had parent-teacher conferences. Yes, he's 3 1/2 and he already has a parent-teacher conference. Not only did we have a conference, we received a complete evaluation or progress report. Given that last year he was only 2 1/2 and was just becoming potty trained I'd say he progressed nicely. To be fair, the teacher thinks he doesn't have any real gaps either. The question is why did I feel so strange during the conference? Why did a feel a sense of defensiveness even though there was nothing to be defensive about. Partially, I think it's because I find it a bit strange that children so young are being "evaluated" even though it shows that the program he is in is a good one. Partially, I think it's because it's the first time we've been through it.

The teacher didn't really say anything that surprised me. CJ is above average in cognitive and language skills compared to his peers, but is a bit behind socially. This is precisely why we put him in preschool. It's also a bit frustrating because it's not something we can "help" with except to keep exposing him to children. We have absolutely no children around us and none of our friends have children. Unless we happen to go to a party where someone else's friends have children or are back in Kansas City, he gets no interaction with children outside of preschool and music school. The information did solidify our decision that we need to find some camps for CJ this summer just so that he can keep interacting with children. The teacher said he seems to like the other kids and he is very kind so they love him, but that he isn't likely to try and play with them or to join in a group. That raised more questions for me too- how much of those things are developmental and how much of those things are personality? One of the tools on the evaluation dealt with sensory toys (namely playdough) and it was marked he only likes to play with those things occasionally. Maybe the kid just doesn't like playdough or maybe he thinks that they aren't playing it right since Mama will only let him play it when there is wax paper down. How does not playing with playdough indicate that he might be a bit behind in Fine Motor skills?

The other thing he likes to do is visit every station (painting, blocks, etc) more than once during free time, which means he doesn't spend much time at each station. The teachers seem to think this is very odd and might be related to his development. However, CJ and I are a lot alike and I feel like I know why he does it. He likes lists and to check things off. For instance if I ask what he has done that day, he will say- ate breakfast... check, brushed teeth... check, went to Kmart with Daddy...check. I know it sounds strange, but that is completely the way I am and was. I can remember writing myself lists as young as around 6-7 at school just so I could put the check mark next to the item when I was done. I liked seeing all the check marks at the end of the day. Isn't that more of a personality thing that a developmental one? She doesn't seem to think that he can't concentrate at the task only that he likes to choose all of the tasks.

This conference also brought up an issue I've already started thinking about. When should CJ go to kindergarten. The teacher explained that some of his social delay is in line with his age, but are more apparent because he is the youngest one in his class. A couple of his peers are almost a whole year older than he is. It begs the question of whether we enroll him in kindergarten when he's five because he is smart or do we wait until he's six because his level of maturity will be more in line with that class? I don't think we really need to think about it this year, but it's definitely a concern of mine.

All in all it just made me realize this only gets harder.

Body Image

"I love the chub, chub, chub." This is a quote from the father of one of the children CJ goes to school with directed at Ceirnan. A man we don't really know at all and are certainly not friends with. It was followed up with "Don't tell my wife." (His wife is about 5 feet tall and maybe weighs around 90 lbs.) A week later we're at another party and again Ceirnan's leg is pinched and comments about how chubby she is are made. It has brought up a lot of emotions and struggles for me despite the fact that people who say it find it cute. These are not the first comments she's gotten. What I find interesting is that she's not really that chubby. She is at the lower end of the 50th percentile for weight and she actually weighs less than CJ did at her age. Everyone always commented on how thin CJ was when he was that size. He was a bit longer though. So the discrepancy has brought up to me is the fact that as a female she will likely always face body image issues while CJ will likely be spared from them simply because he's a boy. It is hard for me to swallow that the differences in the way we treat boys and girls start this early on.

For those who don't know, I am extremely overweight and have spent most of my life battling obesity. Even when I was thin in high school, I couldn't accept or see that I was thin and therefore suffered from an eating disorder. In law school, I just gave up the battle, gained a ton of weight, and am now trying to reclaim my life back. To do this, I've been looking at old pictures and trying to realize that there was a time that I was at a comfortable weight. The problem is that my size 8 frame was still a lot bigger than all of my friends who were size 2. Therefore, I never saw myself with a positive body image. Now I see people already putting Ceirnan into that race. I have already caught myself doing that. She was small when we brought her home (6lbs 5oz) and she gained about 5lbs over two months. I was so concerned. The pediatrician was applauding me for good breastfeeding especially since she was recovering from the injuries to her arm (which can cause children not to gain as much). I was absolutely worried that I was overfeeding her and that I would make her fat like me.

Now given this new phase where people feel it is acceptable to comment on her "chubbiness", I am asking myself how to ensure that I don't repeat the cycle of bad body image. I grew up with lots of amazing people around me, but I can remember constantly hearing how I wasn't as skinny as my cousins or how if I just lost 5 lbs I would be in great shape. The comments were meant to help and motivate me, but instead crippled and alienated me. I do not want to do that to my daughter. I want her to feel like she can be healthy for the sake of being healthy not because some person or media outlet says she needs to look like the newest Mary Kate or Ashley Olsen. I do not want her to walk in my footsteps and become obese, but I want to ensure that she avoids that path in a positive, healthy way. She has a girl cousin who is likely to be extremely tall and thin. How to I keep people from comparing the two? Ceirnan isn't likely to have those genes. How can I keep her from feeling like she isn't as beautiful because she has curves. Who would have thought this issues would come up so early?

Anyway, I'm really not sure of the answers to these questions. I'm barely beginning to delve into them for myself. For now, I suppose the best thing I can do is continue to encourage healthy eating and exercise for CJ (and Ceirnan as she grows). I can't control what others say to her, but I can certainly explain why I think it's inappropriate if someone does say something.

The Party

So CJ received his first invitation to a birthday party for one of his friends from school last week. He was so excited. He couldn't wait to go. I on the other hand realized that we were starting a new phase. The phase where Mama is taking out of her comfort zone into the learning to make small talk with other parents you don't know and have nothing in common with. A lot of people who know me don't realize that I have a bit of social anxiety. Alright, more than a bit. I do fine in specific groups such as classrooms of students or volunteering at an agency, but I do not enjoy and have a lot of anxiety about situations that require small talk. I spent two days looking at this invitation before I even called to RSVP. The conversation with the mother was sufficiently awkward as I explained who I was and stated that CJ would be attending.

The other hard part is that most of the kids who CJ goes to school with have mother's who know each other. Most of the mom's stay at home and they all go to church together. We don't go to that church and Case says none of the mom's will even talk with him when he stands in line to pick CJ up. Needless to say, I was extremely nervous. The second issue was that the party was scheduled for Valentine's Day. Now I was not only going to have to pull it together and figure out something to say, I had to do it on a day I just wanted to spend with my family.

The party went fine. It was at Gymboree. Most of the mom's completely ignored me, but that was okay. The hostess was extremely nice and one of the other mom's said hi. Her daughter and CJ play a lot at school. It was okay. Most importantly CJ had a great time, which he repeatedly said to me. That was worth it, but it just made me realize I'm only at the beginning of this.