"Parent"dox: The Later They're Up, The Earlier They're Up

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par·a·dox \ˈper-ə-ˌdäks, ˈpa-rə-\

          
          a statement that is seemingly contradictory or opposed to common 
          sense and yet is perhaps true

1.  It is a paradox that computers need maintenance so often, since they are meant to save people time.  (merriam-webster.com)

par·ent·dox  \I need one of my genius speech path friends to do 
                            this part\                                 
                            \Kelli & Gretchen are laughing right now\

the daily experience that is parenthood; seemingly living life in contradiction

          1.  It is a "parent"dox that I am exhausted pretty much all day, but the second my head hits 
          the pillow, my mind starts remembering all of the random things I need to do and I am 
          instantly wide awake.  (youreagoodmom.blogspot.com)   
 ***************************************************************************************************

Sunday Night "Parent"dox #3: The Later They're Up, The Earlier They're Up

I love my children dearly.  

I love their sweet little faces.  I love their bouts of laughter.  I love their hugs and kisses.  

But sometimes I just need a break from all that wonderfulness.  And I need them to sleep.

Once we had established somewhat of a sleep schedule with my first-born, (which took a little while, if I'm being entirely honest...) complete with a regular bed time, I figured I would be given the precious gift of a set amount of hours of sleep by said child.  

One would stand to reason that if a kiddo went to bed later than his regularly scheduled bedtime, that he would simply tack those hours on to his ridiculously early regularly scheduled wake up time in the morning.  This is how it worked out in my own sleeping life.  Later to bed, later to rise...isn't that how Benjamin Franklin put it? If I paid the price and put in some extra "mom hours" at night, then I could regain some "just for me" hours in the morning, in the form of sleep.  Seems like a natural law of physics or something, right?

Oh, how incredibly wrong I was...

This is how I learned of another of life's "parent"doxes:  The later they're up, the earlier they're up.

Whenever my children go to bed later than anticipated, they actually wake up earlier than usual the next morning.  As if to silently remind me, "Mom, I'm the one calling the shots here.  Just remember that..."

I have no idea why this happens.  I'm sure there are a million sleep experts who could explain it with Circadian rhythms or establishing positive sleeping habits or phases or the moon or something.  

For me, all I know is that when my kids are up extra late, I better plan on an extra early wake up call the next morning.  And an extra Coke.  Or three. 

No matter what time they go to bed; no matter what time they get up...You're a Good Mom.

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Oh, how I wish I had some way to share some sort of video or audio recording of me writing this last post.  Yes, it is shorter than most.  "Is she running out of things to say?" you may wonder.  Those of you who know me well know this is never a legitimate possibility, sorry to say.  

I have been sitting at the kitchen counter.  My kids have been sharing -- yes, sharing -- the other bar stool next to me while playing Legos.  (Note: I sat down with my lap top by myself in the kitchen to write a quick little post.  These acquired "writing partners" were not part of the original plan.)  By playing, I mean crashing, tumbling, crying, screaming, dropping and any other loud or chaos-related verbs you can think of here.  I just have to smile.  I wouldn't have it any other way.  

Apologies for any and all typos, misspellings and overall lack of complete thought above.  Thanks for reading anyway!

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I am a Mom of Big Kids

I came to a somewhat startling realization the other day.

I am a Mom of Big Kids.

Now, before we get too far, I am well aware that at ages 2 1/2 and 4 1/2, my kiddos are still "little kids" in the big picture of childhood.  They still need my help to button their pants and brush their hair and cut their food for them at meal time.  I guess the "startling" part of my realization was more clearly this...

I am no longer a Mom of a Baby.

It happened when I stumbled into a conversation in which a group of Moms were talking about baby led weaning.  I had absolutely no idea what they were referring to.  I knew what 'baby' meant.  I was good with 'led.' And I had (what I thought) was a fairly good understanding of 'weaning.'  Put those three words together, though, and I was clueless.  Was this actually a "thing?"  I actually had to Google it later to find out what it was because 1.) in general, I am a curious person and 2.) I didn't want to feel "out of the (baby) loop" any more.  And yes.  It is a "thing."  Very much so.  

This was the first time I had been totally blindsided by something related to being a Mom of a Baby.  My own kids are only 22 months apart, so I felt like we went from one just on his way to Toddler Town, and then jumped right back into BabyVille again.  For the most part, when topics related to being a Mom of a Baby came up, I could relate and generally knew what people were talking about.  Even if it wasn't something I did with my own baby, I was at least aware of the topic, or had vaguely heard of whatever was being discussed.  This time, however, I had no clue.  I knew the day would come when I wasn't a citizen of BabyVille any more, but nonetheless, it felt like it snuck up on me a little bit.

It dawned on me again in talking about baby registry stuff with my sister.  I was finding out just how much had changed in the world of baby gear since I had my son.  There is a new "must have" bottle, stroller styles are different and you can't find a drop-down side crib anywhere.  (This will make me feel extra old...many of you reading this don't even know what that is...) The things I had used were still on the shelves, but were no longer the "it" items.  There was a time when I felt like I was "in the know" about baby gear and gadgets.  I now feel like I'm more "around the know" ... or maybe "adjacent to the know" ... or perhaps "down the street from the know."  A lot of the stuff is basically the same, but the amount of change in what Moms of babies are using now had the same thoughts entering my brain...

I am no longer the Mom of a Baby.

I have to admit, it did make me sad.  For a minute. I have so many precious memories wrapped up in those first weeks and months with my kiddos!  I loved being the Mom of a Baby.  

I loved having a sleeping baby curled up on my chest.  I loved their teeny, tiny little fingers and toes.  I loved the look of wonder on their faces when they discovered those fingers were theirs...and {gasp!}...they could actually control them.  I loved the smell of all things baby.  (Well, maybe not all things, but you get the picture.)  I loved their little baby fat rolls on top of baby fat rolls.  I loved those first few smiles.  I loved being the Mom of a Baby.

But that sad feeling really was just for a minute, because I have come to realize that...

I love being the Mom of Big Kids, too.

My 4 1/2 year old has just learned how to play checkers.  It is amazing to sit and play a game with him and see his little wheels turning as he plans where his next move will be.  He gleefully instructs "King me!" when he reaches my end of the board.  He smiles and tells me "I'm coming after your kings, Mom!" as the game reaches the end.  He is looking and talking more and more like a Big Kid.  And even though it's hard to see my baby growing up some days, I remind myself it's OK. 

 It's better than OK, actually. It's amazing.
  
Our family can play a game of Memory together.  We can go catch a movie at an actual movie theater together (as long as said movie is animated...under 90 minutes...but I'll take it).  We can go from one adventure to the next (please note, 'adventures' at this point in life refer to Meijer, the mall or the library, for the most part), and not have to worry about who has to nap when or what time the next feeding will be.  We can leave for the afternoon and not bring half of our house with us.  

My kids tell me jokes now.  (They are still more like statements at this point, but in their mind, they are jokes).  My kids draw pictures for me now.  My kids sing Disney songs to me now.  They are becoming their own little selves, and I get a front row seat to watch it all unfold.  

I know the time will fly.  I know all to soon, I'll be realizing I'm the Mom of School Age Kids.  Of Teenagers.  Of College Kids.  Of Married Kids.  Of Grandkids.  

For now, I'm going to fondly remember being the Mom of a Baby, and revisit those days through pictures, stories and memories. 

For now, I'm going to celebrate being a Mom of Big Kids.  I think I hear another game of checkers calling my name...

Whether you are currently a Mom of a Baby or just remember being one, You Are a Good Mom.  Whatever stage of motherhood you are in, embrace it and enjoy it.  (Moms of teenagers, my heart goes out to you all.  Please take notes so you can tell me what to do when I get there!)  Live in the moment of every stage, as they fly by much too quickly.  As you look back on the end of one phase, look ahead to the new adventures that lie in the next.  Through them all, rest assured that indeed, You Are a Good Mom.

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Still best friends...at least for now!

My son made this picture for his sister today.  I guess I get to live in my own little dreamworld and think they're best friends for a little while longer... :)

I think he must have read my last post about siblings... 

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"Parent"dox: My Biggest Enemy Becomes my Best Friend

***************************************************************************************************
par·a·dox \ˈper-ə-ˌdäks, ˈpa-rə-\

          
          a statement that is seemingly contradictory or opposed to common 
          sense and yet is perhaps true

1.  It is a paradox that computers need maintenance so often, since they are meant to save people time.  (merriam-webster.com)

par·ent·dox  \I need one of my genius speech path friends to do 
                            this part\                                 
                            \Kelli & Gretchen are laughing right now\

the daily experience that is parenthood; seemingly living life in contradiction

          1.  It is a "parent"dox that I am exhausted pretty much all day, but the second my head hits 
          the pillow, my mind starts remembering all of the random things I need to do and I am 
          instantly wide awake.  (youreagoodmom.blogspot.com)   
 ***************************************************************************************************

Sunday Night "Parent"dox #2: My Biggest Enemy Becomes my Best Friend

I had something completely different in mind to write about for tonight's "parent"dox.  But as most things in life go, that plan went out the window as life was actually happening.

This weekend, my sister was in town for her baby shower at my house.  It was an incredibly fun, but busy day, and we finally had the chance to spend some time together after the shower was all said and done.  I sat with my hand on her belly and felt her baby...my niece...kick and move and wiggle around.  It was completely indescribable.   Different than when I could feel my own babies move, different than feeling my friends' babies move.  This was my baby sister.  And her little baby she'd soon be bringing into this world.  I've seen her and talked with her all throughout her pregnancy, but after not seeing her for 2 months, it all hit me last night as I could finally feel her little miracle pushing against my hand. 

When did she grow up?  

Where did the time go?  

How did my biggest enemy become my best friend?

When we were growing up, we used to go 'round and 'round, like most siblings do.  She was the one that took my clothes without asking.  The one who I engaged in head-to-head combat with in "Marker Wars."  (That story, my friends, is for another day...)  The one who cut the hair on my "My Time" Barbie doll.  The one who hogged the Nintendo and could always beat the next level of "Super Mario Bros." before I could.  The one who knew exactly how to drive me crazy and push my buttons without even trying.  

I, of course, never so much as spoke a harsh word to her.  Just take my word for it.  Whatever she disputes or remembers differently is neither here nor there...

She headed back home today, as she now lives out of state.  I remember a time when I would have given my Cabbage Patch Kid and my Pound Puppy to not have to spend another second in the same house, let alone the same city, as her.  Now, I am already counting the days until I get to see her next.  

She has, without a doubt, become my very best friend in the world.  After all the yelling matches, the fighting, the bickering, some (read as: my parents) would consider this a miracle.  In a million years, I never would have guessed I'd be trading those days in for long bouts of laughter, a never-ending exchange of text messages...mostly silly, and most of which any other human being on the planet wouldn't understand...and the gift of being able to know what the other is thinking by exchanging a single glance. 

She is the one person in this world who truly knows my life, my story.  She's been there for it all. (Well, minus the first 3 1/2 years.  When she came home from the hospital, I asked if she could spend the night.  The very next day, I asked if they could take her back.  I kept working that angle until I moved out.)  She knows everything about me...the good, the bad, the ugly.  I don't have to explain things to her when we talk; she just gets it.    She gets me.  The same gift she used to use for evil to annoy me, she now uses for good to support me, and to call me out when I need that, too.  It makes her the best listener this girl could ask for.

My parents used to tell us all the time... "You will be the best of friends someday."  This statement usually took place while we were supposed to be apologizing to each other for some wrong doing or after being talked to for the umpteenth time about arguing with each other.  I never believed them.  I usually rolled my eyes, sighed under my breath, or pinched my sister quickly while Mom or Dad was looking the other way.  I imagine I'll be muttering that same "best friends" statement to my own kids many times over, and they will most likely have the same reaction I did.  

Somehow, though, my parents' prediction has actually come true.

My biggest enemy has, indeed, become my best friend.

So, to my sister...You Are a Good Phenominal Mom.  I miss you.  I love you.  I can't wait to meet that sweet little niece of mine.  

And just so we're clear...even with all this mushy stuff, I continue to hold firm to my position that you should have been able to catch the softball I threw while we were playing catch in the basement.  The broken window of '92 is still on you.

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A Mom is Born

"The moment a child is born, the mother is also born.  She never existed before.  The woman existed, but the mother, never.  A mother is something absolutely new."  ~Unknown

I'm A Mom...!...?

The first time I realized that I was indeed someone's "Mom" was not all that long after my first baby was born.  I know that sounds very silly, but it's true.  My son was born at 11:15pm. 

[For those of you keeping score, those 45 minutes did indeed count as our first "night" in the hospital.] 

We were absolutely elated.  Delivery had gone well, I was able to nurse him shortly after he was born, and we were then able to welcome our family into the delivery room to meet the little guy.  They had been waiting patiently all evening and into these early morning hours to meet the new addition to the family.  We finally made it to the room we'd be staying in for the next two (read above comment...more like one...) days by about 2:30am.  We chose to keep our son in his bassinet in the room with us that first night.  When I was wheeled into our room and looked up to see the clock, I remember feeling like we were running on pure adrenaline and joy and couldn't believe we had a healthy baby boy that was our son.

Our son.

Does Anyone Know They Left This Baby in Here?

That feeling hit me like a tons of bricks in the middle of that first night.  Around 3:30 or 4:00am, my son woke up and was crying.  That cry.  That was the cry of my baby.  I had been around a lot of babies in my life, and every single other time I had ever heard them cry, I knew there was a Certified Mom around to comfort them, cuddle them, console them.  That was now, somehow, me.  
Was I ready for this?  Was I prepared for this?  Was I supposed to have a license or some kind of seal of approval or something to do this?  Medical professionals had knowingly left this poor, innocent 5-hour old baby in this room with my husband and me.  I wondered how long it would be until they realized this.

Upon hearing the cry of our son at that middle-of-the-night hour, I carefully got out of the hospital bed, and tried not to wake up my sweet husband, who was attempting to "sleep" on the pull-out chair contraption they deceptively called a "bed" near the window.  I walked over to my newborn son's bassinet and picked up his teeny, tiny swaddled body.  I put him up on my shoulder and patted his back and began walking him back and forth, back and forth, in the dim light of the hospital room.  I was somehow hoping maybe once I picked him up he would just magically fall back asleep in my arms.   I was trying to conjure up all these images of the videos we had seen in our birthing class, the pictures in the books I had read, the visions I had of other moms I had witnessed do these things hundreds of times.  I kept pacing back and forth, back and forth.  I had this crazy feeling of "What am I supposed to do now?  I am his mom.  I am the one who is just supposed to 'know' what do do!"  

At that point, my husband was awake.  We both had a little of a "deer in the headlights" look, and were looking to each other for what to do or what to try next.  After about 10 minutes, a nurse came in our room to check my vital's or the baby's vitals or give me meds or one of the other 476 reasons they come into your room that first night.  I remember thinking "Thank God!  She must have heard him crying and come in to check on him!"  She went about her business of whatever she had come in to do, and wasn't phased in the least by our crying newborn.  

"Ok," I thought.  "This is a good sign.  She is not acting as alarmed as I feel right now.  She is not looking at us like we are the worst parents on Earth.  This must be somewhat normal."

After a couple of minutes, I said "I'm not quite sure why he's crying.  I've been walking him and patting his back and 'shush'ing in his ear, but nothing really seems to be working."  

With very kind eyes, she looked at me and asked "What time did he last eat?"

EAT!  Oh.  My.  Goodness.  How did I not think of that?  A basic survival need, and it had never even crossed my mind.  I have to feed this kid.  How in the world can I be a mom if I don't even remember...wait, even think...to feed my little guy?  

I instantly flashed back to what I had read, what I had heard.  That newborns eat every 2 hours.  That their stomach is the size of a marble.  Those thoughts had not surfaced in all my walking and patting and 'shush'ing.  It had been nearly 4 hours since he had his first meal.  The poor kid was hungry!

The amazing nurse and my incredible husband helped me get our little 7 pound miracle fed, changed, settled and back to bed.  I took a deep breath at that point and thought "This is it.  There is no going back.  I am now a mom.  I am now his mom.  God, please help me to not screw up too badly and to know what to do at least some of the time.  Grant me wisdom, as I'm pretty sure I have no idea what I'm doing, and somehow, the people in this hospital trust me with this precious child.  Your precious child.  Please walk with me every step of the way."  I have prayed that last line, or some version of it, nearly every day for the last 4 1/2 years.

Getting to Know All About You...

In the days and weeks that followed, our little family of three got the hang of being a family.  Feeding, napping, bathing, changing.  We spent time figuring each other out.  When I look back on it now, those are truly some of my absolute happiest memories.  Yes, we were sleep deprived.  Yes, we didn't really know what we were doing.  But it was us.  It was the three of us, and we had each other.  It was in those days that I started trusting myself and trusting my instincts more and more.  I owe a lot of this to my husband, my own mom and the other moms who stopped by to visit.  I could see it in their eyes and hear it in their words and feel it in their warmth-- they trusted me.

I was his mom.  He was my son.  I loved him more than anything on Earth.  When he was hungry or tired or just needed his mom, that was me.  I was that person.  I had walked into that hospital as a wife, a daughter, a sister, a friend, a teacher, but walked out as a Mom.  I knew something had forever changed within me.  

A Mom had been born.  

So whether your little tiny miracle hasn't yet shown herself to the world or your baby is now taller than you, You Are a Good Mom.  You will always and forever be.  You are the one who knows them best.  You are their comfort and their safe place.  You are their Mom.

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If you are a Mom-to-be or a relatively new Mom or know someone in those categories, you may want to check out this little addendum post, too!  Just a few more thoughts on this topic that didn't quite fit into this post anywhere.

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It is OK

To all the moms-to-be and the brand new Moms out there, please know this: It is OK.

It is OK to be nervous.  It is OK to be eager.  It is OK to be scared.  It is OK to be unbelievably excited beyond words.

It is OK to not know all the answers; none of us do.  

It is OK to ask questions.  Lots and lots and lots of questions.  It is OK to keep seeking answers if none of the answers you get to those questions feel right to you.  

It is OK to laugh.  It is OK to cry.  It is OK to do both at the same time.

It is OK to be totally overwhelmed...with emotions, with motherhood, with support from others, with laundry.  It is OK to say you are overwhelmed.  

It is OK to listen to advice, smile, say "thank you" and then completely disregard it and trust your own instincts.

It is OK to second-guess yourself.  It is OK to trust yourself.

It is OK to just be you.  You are enough.  You are exactly what that little tiny miracle needs.  That is why God put that little tiny baby in your care.  

There may be times when it feels just that way...as if everything in the universe is right and being Mom to your baby is exactly what you were put on this Earth to do.  There may be times when you feel everything BUT that way...like you are unprepared or unsure or underdressed (as in still in your PJs at 4pm).  Sometimes both those feelings happen minutes apart from one another.  

It is OK.

You are not alone.  You are loved, you are supported, you are surrounded by other Moms who have walked a path not so different from your own.  You are amazing.  You are beautiful.  You are at the beginning of a life-changing, life-shaping journey.  

You are a mom.

You Are a Good Mom.

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Moms-to-be and brand new Moms, you were so much on my heart and mind when I was writing "A Mom is Born."  I was thinking so much of the huge range of emotions I felt in those first hours and days after having my first child.  A huge part of me just wanted to know it was going to be OK; to know I was going to be OK as a mom.  The thoughts that kept racing through my head while I was writing the previous entry are what you see above.  They didn't quite fit into "A Mom is Born," but I couldn't get them off my mind.  This quick little addendum is for you guys.

Moms of bigger kiddos...or even grown up kiddos, this is for you guys, too.  Maybe you can relate to some of these feelings.  Maybe you still have some of these feelings from time to time.  

No matter which group you fall into, please feel free to share any supportive comments or experiences to help encourage Moms just starting this whole "motherhood" thing.  Add your own "It is OK..." or any other thoughts you may have in the comments below.

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"Parent"dox: Same Toy, Same Time

Oh, Sunday night, why do you always arrive so soon?  We're minding our own business, innocently enjoying our weekend, when you so devilishly sneak up on us.  Sunday night in and of itself seems to present a bit of a paradox...on the calendar, it is technically still the weekend, but in our hearts and minds, it bears the mental burden of the fully loaded week ahead.  

In an attempt to lighten up that "Sunday Night Feeling" that is all too familar, and acknowledge that tricky little paradox that is Sunday Night, I submit for your review...

The Sunday Night "Parent"dox Series

I'm hoping to post a short little "parent"dox here each Sunday night.  A quick read to put a smile on your face and lift your spirits as you face the week ahead.  (Who am I kidding?  For me, it is usually that I'm finding one more thing I "need" to do as Sunday night races by and I procrastinate actually getting something done for Monday.)  However it works out for you on your Sunday Night, I hope you enjoy it.
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par·a·dox \ˈper-ə-ˌdäks, ˈpa-rə-\

          
          a statement that is seemingly contradictory or opposed to common 
          sense and yet is perhaps true

1.  It is a paradox that computers need maintenance so often, since they are meant to save people time.  (merriam-webster.com)

par·ent·dox  \I need one of my genius speech path friends to do 
                            this part\                                 
                            \Kelli & Gretchen are laughing right now\

the daily experience that is parenthood; seemingly living life in contradiction

          1.  It is a "parent"dox that I am exhausted pretty much all day, but the second my head hits                                
           the pillow, my mind starts remembering all of the random things I need to do and I am  
           instantly wide awake.  (youreagoodmom.blogspot.com)
 ***************************************************************************************************
Sunday Night "Parent"dox #1: Same Toy, Same Time
Just when I seem to get a handle on the toy situation at our house and have enough bins, baskets and tubs, we get a visit from Santa, the Easter Bunny or the birthday bonanza that involves lots of loving aunts, uncles, grandmas and grandpas.  I am so thankful that my kiddos are so loved and so blessed, but it does lead to lots and lots of stuff!  I sometimes look around my living room or my basement, and think to myself "Hmm.  I bet this is what it would look like if the toy department of Target was ransacked by burglars and wild dogs at the same time."  

Now that you have that mental image in your head, let me share this "parent"dox with you...  

We obviously do not have a lack of toys in this household, and with a child of each gender, we have quite a wide variety of items to choose from, too.  There are many, many options for two children to pick from, and more than enough to go around.  One would think, then, that there would be no arguments or disputes over toys in such a household. But that, as my parental friends of more than one child know, is not the case.  My kids want the same toy at the same time.  

It does not matter if it is a Batman motorcycle, a plastic Cinderella doll, a broken toy acquired from a Happy Meal six months ago, or a paperclip, for cryin' out loud.  If one kid has it, the other one needs that very same toy, at the very same time.  There is very little rational thinking or problem solving that takes place by either child in these moments.  At times, we even call in the lead negotiator from the local police department to listen to demands and work things out in order to prevent bodily harm or loss of property.  After lots of "I had it first!" or "That's mine!" or "I WANT IT NOW!!!" we do get a chance to (hopefully) pass on some conflict resolution skills to our kiddos.  We just keep hoping they are picking some of it up along the way...osmosis, perhaps?

After all this working it and talking it out, I'm usually able to leave the room and go take care of some random task around the house.  Inevitably, I'll walk back in the room 5 minutes later to see the recently prized possession, now abandoned and left alone, as they've both moved on to something else.  I smile to myself, and just enjoy the fact that they are playing happily for awhile...at least until the next same toy at the same time crisis arises.

Wishing you a great week, full of lots of miracle toy sharing by your kids, and, as my friend at Meijer says, You're a Good Mom!

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