Child Labor

The darker side of why my house is always spotless...

EC or just good hand/eye coordination?

Well, we had another not much sleep night last night, and twice now when I have not administered the meds myself (and tried to let Tom handle it) he's overmedicated himself. Luckily, nothing he's taking has any super serious consequences for taking meds a tiny bit more frequently than he should, but it just proves I can't count on a good night's sleep any time soon.

We've been blessed to have Eve with us in the evenings and morning, but family has taken her for fun and adventure during the day since her sleep over ended on Friday. We miss her when she's gone, but her current stage in life, as well as her reaction to the upheaval around here, is making me kind of crazy. I don't feel like a nice mom, and seem to have a lot more patience for her when she's here less, and not so bored.

I find myself using my moments of less demand not crafting (as I really should be if I'm going to tackle that huge list I made) or reading, but rather surfing the net. I don't have energy for much else, even with a lot of cola in me. In a moment of quiet then, I have a chance to share a very funny story with you. This took place on Christmas Eve, and I'd nearly forgotten about it. I was reminded after reading a few friend's blogs about potty training and Elimination Communication.

We spend all our time (almost) down stairs these days, as that's where the wood stove is, and our main (and often only) source of heat. (Here I'll interject that this is my least favorite chore that I've taken over from Tom. I'm simply not a fire builder.) Hence, I change Israel on a receiving blanket on the couch. Since it was Christmas Eve he was dressed in his Christmas PJs, to look charming in pictures. Peanut only poops every 3 days or so, and as luck would have it, Christmas Eve was one of those days. As I changed him, carefully pushing his outfit far up and out of the way, I realized it wasn't too big a deal and set about cleaning him up.

I'm one of those who's never learned the lesson of putting the new diaper under the baby before you take the old one off. I guess I've just not had it be that much of a problem. Well, this time, it was a problem. Just as I was unfolding the last bit of the diaper to slide it under him, his ankles in one hand, I saw the face, heard the grunt, and watched in slow-motion horror as a new kind of "golden arch" arced its way through the air, with a trajectory ending just beyond the protective blanket. Now, I don't love my couch or anything. It's really pretty shabby and not my style, but it'll do, and I certainly don't want to be cleaning baby poop out of every little loop and crevice in the fabric. And so, I re-defined the Elimination Communication idea of "catching a poop" and stood in stunned disbelief as my son defecated all over my hand.

I won't describe for you the texture. After working on it for 3 days, Peanut's poop is not the normal baby poop texture, and anything I try to compare it to will simply reduce your enjoyment of some current culinary delight or another. Trust me on this one.

So. There I am, Christmas Eve. Tom's upstairs putting Eve to bed for the umteenth time. Don't feel sorry for him. He was the genius who decided to talk up Santa coming to visit the hour before Bed. I'm holding Israel's feet in one hand, and an unspeakable mess in the other. I can't let go for several reasons: If I do, he may manage to get poop on his Christmas PJs, or he may just roll right off the couch, and then we're talking a crying, messy baby and carpets to clean. I could grab more wipes, but I don't think they could have helped me.

As I was contemplating, puzzling, reaching into the dark recesses of creativity for a solution...he did it again. I was slightly more prepared and grabbed the end of the blanket and the half-applied, recently soiled new diaper to catch with. As clever as that may sound, I was in even more trouble now, as the poop quickly began seeping through the blanket, and there was even more poop in the proximity of the PJs.

I less determined person might have conceded and given up on keeping the PJs pristine, but that's just not me. It's a tradition to have special Christmas morning PJs for special Christmas morning pictures. I'm not going to let a little baby poop get in the way of tradition.

So I stood there like that for about 5 minutes, calling to Tom, making Peanut laugh, and laughing myself at the absurdity of it all. I did clean Peanut up, but he was still surrounded by his own waste, and I still couldn't get away to wash my hands. I wasn't calling Tom very loudly, so he moseyed down when he was ready and looked at me like I was crazy.

After all was said and done, Peanut looking smashing in his clean, sparkly Christmas PJs, and I learned that though essentially water soluble, Peanut's particular brand of baby poop does not wash off easily with soap and warm water.





One last thing. Tonight, when Eve was sitting with us and calming down a few moments before I took her to bed, I kissed her and told her I loved her, she responded by holding my hair with both hands, and saying, "I love you too, my sweet darling." Be still my heart. It was so cute and sweet. I just love her!

And a happy new year

Well, I imagine by the time I get around to those promised pictures, even all *my* Christmas decorations will be repacked for the year.

Last night was the first night in a week that Israel went to bed for the night after only 1 wake up, that Eve went to bed without any wake ups, and that Israel did not get up at 6. Thank goodness, because the secret to my success is that Eve didn't go to sleep until 10, and Israel not until 11. Needless to say, getting to sleep in was a welcome relief, but ill-timed since today is a work day. I was so late that the gal I share a desk with had moved in for the day, expecting me not to come in at all.

This has been a year of high highs and low lows for us.

We welcomed a new and wonderful son, a new and wonderful niece, and a new brother-in-law. We were blessed so much by friends and family, and the mysterious and yet tangible ways in which God provides and loves us. We truly became a part of our new church and feel at home there, and continue to strengthen our friendships, even as we add to them. We received a Christmas card from an old friend I was quite certain had been killed in action (so regular was his correspondence prior to 2006), so I'm delighted to have, in essence, received him back from the dead--and with a wife as well (now I know what was keeping him so busy, or rather who.) In light of the highs, the lows don't really matter so much.

My hopes for 2008 include:
Healing, both emotionally and physically for Tom.
That my son will continue to grow as issue-free as he has so far and as his sister has.
That my daughter will continue to grow more delightful and accomplished, and perhaps just a little more tempered and tractable.
That Tom's side of the family will have no more alarming and devastating health diagnoses, and no deaths either.
That my side of the family will meet with life, health, and success. I wouldn't mind if my brothers' wives turned up expecting either.
That my crafty skills will increase and that I will be able to accomplish a rather ambitious to-do list which I've laid out for myself.
That I might have just a bit of money to spend on myself, and maybe obtain a pair of truly flattering trousers.
That I would love others in such a manner that they would know so and be blessed.
And last, but probably most importantly, that I would increase in love and knowledge of Jesus Christ.

On the third day of Christmas...

I finally have a chance to post.

I hope to someday post pictures and stories of our Advent activities and Christmas parties.

I intend to post an over-full craft post to show you all the fun things I finished just in time, and those that must be gifts for later days of Christmas.

But today, I'll simply wish you the true, deep, everlasting joy of Christmas. The coming of God to earth as a child isn't over when the Christmas trappings go on clearance. His gift is for us whenever we come to recognize it.

I read a beautiful, painful post today that I must share. So go to sweet | Salty, read, and then hold your children with a new sense of appreciation for them, even in the trials. Though I know it's not a direct correlation, I can only imagine that this is akin to the pain of Mary. How sweet to hold your child in your arms, for how ever long you're allowed.

:(

I got the flu this weekend. Yuck. I guess it's been a while since I had the flu, because I really can't remember the last time I felt that awful. Thursday night and Friday were the worst, but Saturday wasn't too great either. Today is better...I'm not on tylenol, and yet I'm also not shivering and feeling cold in an 80 degree room. Progress.

Tom's parents took Eve on Friday for most the day and then overnight. Friday was supposed to be a great day for us--I was going to spend all my time embroidering, and Tom was going to play Xbox 360 (did I tell you he won a free xbox 360? I'm happy for him, but not so much for me, being an xbox widow is at least as bad as being a football widow...except there is really no end to it...it's there 24/7). Well, my head was killing me all day with or without the mild drugs that I can take, and without electricity, huddled in the basement where it's warm and sunlight not exactly spilling in through the windows, I got very little embroidery done, and didn't enjoy my day in the least. And Tom was worse off--at least I could sleep and feel I was doing all I really wanted to. Tom was bored and xboxless...and he doesn't like to read or do anything crafty, so he was totally bored until about 3 P.M. when the power came back.

Thursday night after it took just a bit longer than expected to get Eve to sleep, Tom and I fought about Eve and sleeping and our vastly differing parenting philosophies. I hate when that happens. Actually, it's been long enough since we fought about parenting philosophies in general that I was lulled into a false sense of security thinking maybe Tom had come to see things my way. We called a truce fairly quickly, but it just brings up all of my conflicting thoughts on how far to go with this...do I "submit" and let him take the reigns so our children can be neither seen nor heard? That's really too harsh...he loves his kids, but he thinks that it's my refusal to let Eve cry it out in her bed that has made her a poor sleeper, he thinks co-sleeping is designed by the devil (tongue in cheek) to prohibit parental intimacy and sleep (his, specifically), and thinks that if we just bottle fed, our children would have no preference between he and I, and either of us could take care of their needs at any time of day or night. I disagree (of course, right? That's why we fight), I don't think that bottle feeding would remove the children's preference for their mom when they need compassion and comfort, and if we kicked the kids out of our bed entirely, Tom might get more sleep, but I would be up a million times a night to feed or comfort, well, unless I could somehow render myself def so I could just leave them to cry themselves back to sleep. What it comes down to, is I feel that the way he wants to do things is entirely about his comfort and convenience, while my motivation is to do what is the very best for my children, even if it costs my comfort and is inconvenient.

Sigh. It's been a constant struggle since Eve came, and it would be so nice to be at peace together about this, but I don't see that anywhere on the horizon. If I do give in...how could I? But if I did, I would feel my children were being robbed of precious and irreplacable commodities, and I'm sure I'd have to resign myself to that each day, as I would also have to forgive Tom each day or stew in unrelenting bitterness toward him for harming my children.

Either way, I can see why Tom doesn't want more kids. I really do, but it would be nice to get past the time in their lives that seems to cause us the most strife and move on to older childhood where breastfeeding is in the distant past and sleeping in their own bed is a given. Plus, we'd never have to deal with the circumcision question again or imperfect births.

Like I said, we've called a truce. I don't even know if Tom has given this stuff another thought...but I can't stop. I never know if I'm doing the right thing. I know I'm doing what's best for my children, if I separate it from the fact that I don't know if I'm doing what's best for my marriage with their father, but I do know the relationships are deeply entwined. If I say I am in the wrong in my marriage, then I guess the question comes down to: What's worse for my children? My behavior toward their dad or taking away breastfeeding, responsiveness to their cries, and warmth and comfort in the middle of the dark and lonely night? I really, honestly don't know.

So...I think I might be making all this sound worse than it is...it's the conflict in my mind that is most bitter. Tom and I are doing fine, though there's always room for improvement.

And now that I'm feeling better, Peanut has the flu. Poor little guy. I guess it's good that I got it first so I know what he's going through. He was not himself last night, and now I know why. Today he's listless, but sleeping peacefully and cheerful as long as the tylenol controls his fever.

Thoughts on God

Israel is 9 weeks old now. Time has flown by. It's strange, even though I wouldn't say it's been easy I was *so* afraid of how things would be with Eve, but now I see there was no reason to fear, or simply God has given me peace about it.

Eve doesn't seem jealous at all. And Peanut has been such an easy baby, I have plenty of time to spend with her. Yes, there are definitely behavioral challenges, but those are par for the course, I think, with or without a new little brother.

I've had a much better week in parenting than I was having when I last posted. I was feeling so angry and even hateful (I hate to admit it) toward Eve, and every little thing she did, even very innocent things, seemed to push all my buttons. The thoughts I had were really awful, 180 degrees from loving and gentle. As I mentioned last time, I have totally been, simply put, just too busy to spend much time with God, and doing so seemed like such a...well, waste of time when I have so many projects and responsibilities that require productivity. But, after that last post, I faced the fact that I was suffering for it, and so was my family.

So, over the past week I've been reading Amos, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and John. I'm reading Amos because that's what our Pastor is preaching on. Proverbs, because I can just choose the chapter based on the date of the month, so it's easy. Ecclesiastes on a whim, and John, because it's the gospel with which I am least familiar. I find my days simply go better, and I have more Patience and peace when I start my day relating with God before I face the challenges of parenting (and, erm...wifing?). Tom's been great in trying to give me a somewhat uninterrupted time in which to read, drink my tea, and eat breakfast.

I'm not doing any deep study, just reading and reflecting. I notice that Solomon, or whoever wrote Ecclesiastes is bitter. The great wisdom he had didn't bring him happiness or peace. Contrast this with King David, his father, and this "man after God's heart" shows that Love is better than wisdom. I am a knowledge seeker...and this, combined with some other reading I've been doing, convicted me that I need to seek God more and rely on his spirit when parenting, and that will serve me much better, not to mention my children. I can't be the parent I need to be under my own power, and when I try I feel defeated and frustrated, and my goal of having a deep and loving relationship with my children is hindered by my behavior and reactions.

Praying for guidance in parenting is not a new idea, and I've frequently in the past realized I needed to do it, and then failed to follow through, a total un-piphany.

I've also been reading Heartfelt Discipline. It's not new to me to read a different perspective on the "Rod" verses in Proverbs, but it was a fuller explanation than I'd previously had. Common Christian belief about these verses is that they constitute a Christian imperative to spank and punish our young children. One really interesting point the author made is that the word for Rod is not a symbolic word, so if you're going to implement it biblically, you're talking a big heavy stick, used to beat slaves and animals. Additionally, the age group that is being addressed, contextually in Proverbs, is young men and fathers of young men, who need to be guided to the path of life and light--not to young children.

The book reminded me, again, to seek God for guidance in parenting, and to be led by the holy spirit. It also has some practical guidelines for relating to our children. So far it's covered having sympathy for our children, and encouraging them biblically. I especially like one idea for encouragement that points back to the stone monuments in the Old Testament, which father's were supposed to point out to their children to tell them about God's faithfulness. The author suggests as a family reflecting on God's faithfulness over the past year, month, whatever, and then drawing pictures to represent those instances of God's work in our lives, and collecting those in a notebook that can be reviewed whenever we need encouragement or are facing tough times. Seems like a good Thanksgiving activity.

Quick update

There's the post-op patient making a silly face. And the cute little guy actually awake! That pic was taken on Saturday of last week, some 30 hours after surgery.

Since I last updated you, we went to Seattle to have the stitches removed this past Thursday afternoon. Not a great time for traveling to and from Seattle, it made for a long, late night. But, everything looked good and I got to see Tom in some really cool shorts made of paper. :)

His patience with recovery is beginning to wear thin. Yesterday he was pretty down. Bored, frustrated, in pain.



Eve seems to be losing patience as well. Today she told my mom that she wanted to spend the night there again (second night in a row) because daddy is busy playing video games and mama is busy giving Peanut nummy nums.

Friday as I was fighting her to get her strapped into her carseat, she was totally uncooperative. It went through my mind that the way she was acting really motivated me to spank her hand to just get her to stop for a minute. the rational side of me of course knew that she wouldn't stop, she'd go farther into hysteria.

Just as I was thinking all this and telling her she needed to turn so I could get the strap over her shoulder, and physically attempting to help her do so, she wound up and slapped me so hard in the face that it didn't stop hurting for 30 minutes. my reaction was immediate, I gasped and smacked her right back. Angry and more angry at my reaction, I told her it was completely unacceptable to hit me, and then stepped back to say how angry I was, and take a few breaths. I had peanut in the wrap, and was driving Tom's beast of a van (because mine is having transmission problems), so the whole thing was more difficult to begin with. I was at a low level of frustration all day due to Eve's behaviors and having to drive this van, and because on our way to our errand I'd hit every red light possible, and Peanut cried hard whenever we weren't moving.

Ugh. I'm so frustrated with myself for that reaction. I felt terrible after I did it. And yet still really angry at her, and still wanting to do some sort of more correct discipline to teach her that hitting me is not okay. I did tell her it wasn't okay for me to hit her either, and I asked her forgiveness.

I'm definitely feeling somewhat hopeless. My only consolation is she hadn't had a nap and was more tired than usual. So, maybe her bad behavior was due to that more than anything, but she kind of woke up on the wrong side of bed that day anyway. Sigh. I know it's been tough for her to deal with Tom being chair-bound and mostly glued to the TV (I am not a fan of having a TV in our living room, but since Tom isn't much of a reader, it was important that we have something to keep him entertained. So he watched TV, movies, and plays the borrowed Xbox 360 his brother loaned us. And tends to tune everything else out, Eve included. And I've been just feeling haggard and busy, and part of the reason I hate the TV is because I get sucked in and distracted myself. And for the past few days, Peanut has been on a growth spurt and nursing a ton more.

I definitely need to show her some grace.

Reading

So I've been enjoying my reading of Siblings Without Rivalry. It's interesting and enlightening, and at the same time challenging.

Principles:

Validate feelings.

I don't think I'm great at this, especially when it's something like, "I don't like him" because there's no reason for her to feel this way, usually. I'll have to keep in mind that feelings are often not based on good reasoning or logic. Heaven knows mine aren't. Validating feelings doesn't have to mean allowing bad actions or behavior. Yay!

Give in fantasy what can't be had in reality.


Basically, just state in clear language what it appears the child wants. Not sure how I feel about this one.

Not sure how I feel about this one. I can't see myself saying, "I can see you are angry. You wish that we could send the baby back and have mama all to yourself again."

Suggest creative or otherwise non-harmful outlets to express negative feelings.

Meh...I've never much liked this, myself. Although I have made great use of writing letters that never get read, that is a little hard for non-literate children. I guess I could always suggest punching pillows or screaming at the top of your lungs--I use those myself.

Don't compare, positively or negatively.

I know I've already been guilty of this with other kid's Eve's age or a little older.

"Oh, Eve, Hannah wears big girl panties all the time because she goes potty in the potty! She's such a big girl!"

I will have to make sure this isn't something I continue.

The hardest part of this includes non-direct comparisons: praising one child in front of the other. I have a hard time already with over-praising Eve. Of course, I think she's the most awesome kind on the planet, so it's hard to keep that to myself, and in my house as a child everything we did was always the best and the greatest, and we were the smarted, most attractive, most athletic, etc. kids EVER.

It's going to be a real challenge to keep praise private as the family grows. Also not sure how this applies to praising infants for milestone accomplishments...something to think about.

The next section is Fair is Unfair, which I've just begun and which says equal treatment is unnecessary and harmful, and that each child should be treated according to his or her needs.

I'm definitely interested in this section, because while I don't feel my parents did this, I get the sense that Tom thought his whole life was unfair...and he's frequently mentioned how certain unfair treatments bother him in other families we are close to.

So far, my only hang up with this book is that the things parents say seem to be way over the top...but then, I guess it's easier to portray extreme examples than more subtle ones in such a format.

Additionally, a lot of the long-lasting hurt feelings and resentment can be healed through forgiveness, given time and God, so I didn't identify with a lot of what the parents said about their own histories--even though I hated my brother, I really love him now and I'm closer to him than to either of my other brothers, who were never subjects of my wrath. And although I recognize that in many ways my feelings toward him had a lot to do with what my parents did, I know they only did what they felt was best and have always had the best of intentions, and simply didn't have the tools or training to do what would have been better. I've forgiven them for it, even though I fear repeating their mistakes.

I guess I should let that be a lesson to me...

Even if I fail as a parent to foster a close and loving relationship amongst my children, all hope is not lost as long as God's in the picture--He can change hearts and minds dramatically, as He has mine.

Of course, that puts the pressure back on teaching Eve the Truth about God, and praying that she chooses to follow him, and back to my fear of screwing her up!

A nice turn around

So I continued to feel lousy all day on Monday, until I got home.

Eve ran to me, so happy to see me, and gave me the biggest, longest kiss. And then giggled and kissed me again and again. And then stroked my hair and looked so happy to be in my arms and to have me home. I couldn't continue to feel sorry for myself with that kind of love.

Then Tom, who had planned on having the night to himself in order to practice his guitar, said he'd watch Eve so I could go to one of those product parties at a friend's. I'd been pretty bummed to have to cancel due to lack of babysitters, not because I planned to buy anything with my no-discretionary-spending budget, but because I knew my friend would be serving something wonderfully yummy to eat, and I would get to relax rather than try to do the nighttime routine all by myself. He was so cordial and encouraging about it, I could tell he wasn't just doing it grudgingly. It was such a blessing to get to go, and the food was, indeed, delicious. Again, how could I continue to be grumpy in the face of my husband's love?

Finally, that night Tom and I stayed up pretty late and had a long conversation about my parenting concerns.

He isn't worried and feels we're doing an okay job. I wouldn't say I totally agree with him, but it was comforting to know that he's not dissatisfied with my parenting, so no extra pressure there.

He also said I need to stop worrying about screwing her up, because in one way or another, we're going to screw her up. Basically, he says I need to stop striving for perfection, because it's impossible to achieve. While not comforting, it is freeing to accept that I cannot be the perfect mother, and that my child cannot be perfect, no matter how hard I try and wish for it.

In addition to all that, there were a couple great comments on my last post with practical and real-world truth on sibling rivalry and discipline--which was encouraging and helpful.

What's my motivation?

Well, I'm just having one of those days today. I shouldn't be, as I'm feeling showered with love and care from every direction. Despite that, my thoughts are drawn toward self-reflection and I find myself lacking--always disappointing.

It's been a somewhat slow journey to this frame of mind, and I wouldn't say I got here until yesterday evening. But it all started Saturday night.

I brought up sibling rivalry with a friend who has quite a few kids. I figured if she'd dealt with it and figured out how to deal with it, then I could safely take her advice on it--because her kids all seem to get along and love each other.

I'll be honest that she didn't seem to have much practical advice, but she assured me that she doesn't think it will be a problem in our family.

I wish I could share her conviction.

You see, when I got my first sibling, it ruined my life. I felt betrayed, bereft, abandoned and unloved. And it was ALL. HIS. FAULT. Dumb little brother going and messing up my life like that. Who did he think he was?! I literally hated him. I wasn't much for the physical abuse, although I'm sure that he got his fair share of shoves and whatnot, but I was much more about the emotional manipulation and cruelty. To this day, I believe that I can see evidence in my brother of damage done by me and by my parent's reaction to my behavior towards him.

I'm very afraid of the same occurring between Eve and her little brother. I'm afraid she will feel unloved and displaced. I'm afraid she'll take it out on her little brother. I'm afraid that anything I try to do to "fix" their relationship will only further harm things. I'm afraid of putting distance between Eve an I, after working so hard to foster closeness and attachment and trust, I'd hate to see it all go to waste, wiped out by the arrival of a sibling.

You might see something in the above paragraph that my friend picked up on. Fear.

She told me she got the feeling I was afraid and implored me not to be. Reminding me that fear is not of God. Unless, of course, it's fear of God. But I can't seem to help myself. It's ingrained in me, and probably something I need to really work on.

Yes, I'm fearful about sibling relations in my home. This led me to examine my parenting in general. I am very much motivated by fear in my parenting.

Now, unlike perhaps many (not all) parents (I suspect), I am not really much afraid that my daughter will misbehave. She does misbehave, but I'm not a behaviorist, or at least, I'm not hung up on the here-and-now of behavior, and I recognize that a lot of what we might think of as misbehavior is really just developmental behavior. Yes, I get frustrated by that behavior, but most of the time, I can deal.

What I am afraid of is screwing her up. I'm sure my fear will double soon as I have a whole new little life I can screw up too. Maybe I'm giving myself too much credit, maybe I don't have so much power.

I really try to trust God over my daughter, and to an extent, I feel I've succeeded. I'm much less fearful for her physical well being and health than I used to be. I'm not perfectly fearless in the face of danger or disease, but I think I've come a long way.

I feel I'm well-equipped to be a nurturer of little lives. I find it easy to be a responsive mother of a newborn and infant (although I do anticipate struggling a bit with doing the infant thing at the same time as the toddler thing). I guess I should say, I know what to do with a baby. I know that they don't have mere "wants" and every desire is truly a need. Every moment is a learning one for a baby. And the goal of the first year is to teach trust and self-worth.

After that, things get more complicated. When do children begin to have mere "wants" and when can such desires be safely denied? When does age-appropriate behavior cross the line into inappropriate behavior (besides the obvious of bringing harm to others), when is it disrespect, when is it something else equally unsavory that should be stopped? I've been stumbling through that with Eve, and I still honestly don't know. I feel fairly confident that at her age of several months past 2 and a half, she's long been in the stage of everything not being a need, I'm just not sure when the transition occurred, and I still have a little trouble deciphering which is which.

I'm not afraid that I'm doing too much in the way of discipline, although I'm certainly afraid of going there. Instead, I'm afraid I'm too far on the "permissive" end of the spectrum in which I'm not establishing enough boundaries, and I'm not training her in good behavior, decorum, or work ethic. I'm also afraid I'm leaving God out of the equation--although He is in my thoughts and I am trying to do things in a Godly fashion, I'm pretty sure I don't communicate that to Eve enough, and I don't feel that we're doing much to teach her about God. Very frustrating, really.

I'm also dreadfully afraid of teaching Eve a God that doesn't exist. I've shared that before. I don't want to present to her "God" who is not true. I want to only present the True God to her, but I am, again, afraid that I'm failing.

I hate failing. It makes me feel really lousy. Failure in general is just one more thing I fear. And being fearful makes me feel I've once more failed.

Vestiges

At the very bottom of my recently completed, prioritized "baby needs..." list is an item I'm considering removing.

A nursing necklace.

I remember when Eve was young, being annoyed that her little seeking hands would always grasp my hair and pull hard enough to make my eye's water. Then, when she got to the stage of limit testing, it became a great deal more annoying when she would purposely pull my hair as hard as she possibly could.

I thought that the perfect solution would have been to give her newborn hands something else to grasp, creating a habit that would leave hair pulling out of the equation later on. Then, if she grabbed my hair, I'd know she was up to something--I wouldn't have to wait until she suddenly pulled to know she was testing me out.

But now...now I find myself very happy about her habit of playing with my hair. It's become somewhat of a partial replacement for nursing, or rather, a remainder of the full ritual which we no longer practice.

At night when I help her go to sleep she plays with my hair. When she greets me after a separation (Even just the amount of time she's in nursery on Sunday's) she'll play with my hair. When she is tired, or frightened, or in need of comfort, she will often play with my hair. Sometimes she will even ask to do so from the back of the car when she begins to get sleepy. Unfortunately, I have to say no during those times. But otherwise, it makes me happy that she still wants closeness with me like that.

Since I'm unlikely to actually receive a nursing necklace, and since I can't forsee the financial flexibility to buy one for myself, I will soon have to remind myself that when my newborn is a newly weaned child, I will be happy to have him play with my hair rather than a necklace. Maybe that will make it easier to get through the painful hair pulling stages.

Weaned

It's been nearly 5 weeks since Eve last nursed. And about 3 since she last asked to.

The last time she nursed was early morning when she crawled into bed with us.

Eve: "Where's my binky?"

Me: "I don't know."

Eve: "I want nummy nums [her term for breastfeeding]"

I let her nurse and she fell back to sleep quickly. I popped her off before she was done, but after she was satisfied and she drifted off, as did I.

I didn't know it would be the very last time, but for each time before that for weeks I tried hard to enjoy and remember our time together, because I knew it could be the last, and I wanted to be able to remember it.

After that night, I began stashing a spare binky on the windowsill at the head of the bed. That way I would always know where one was, if she asked.

The photo at the top of this post was taken by Tom. I was somewhat frantic to get a few shots of Eve nursing before it was over, for her sake and for mine. I remember one time on a Sunday when she nursed to sleep in my lap, and I thought, This could be it, this could be the last time. I don't know where the camera is!!!.

The next time, I prepared, and out of a dozen shots, I actually got her face in about 4 photos, the best of which are below.



Until you've tried it, you simply can't imagine how hard it is to do a "self portrait" of you feeding your baby.



Prior to these shots, the only photo that exists of me nursing Eve was taken about 15 minutes after she was born, in the hospital, with me looking like...well, like I just gave birth with an IV of fluids in my arm (dumb hospital policy). That's kind of a bad record given the number of photos we have of Eve, and the number of hours she spent in her little life nursing.

Assuming I can get my act together, I'll be more careful to get pictures of Eve's little brother nursing earlier and more often. Of course, there is this rumor that you don't take anywhere near as many pictures of your second as you do your first. I am not going to say that won't be true for us, but I do hope there's a higher ratio of breastfeeding photos than in Eve's vast portfolio of photos.

Eve has asked to nurse once since that night. It was early in the morning, and I was downstairs exercising. She wasn't getting enough attention from me, was still tired, and hadn't yet had breakfast or even a drink. I picked her up off the couch and she asked for "nummy nums"

Me: "Sure honey. But would you rather have a snack instead?"

She nodded solemnly, with little perfect tears brimming in her eyes. and said, "uh huh."

So I took her upstairs, got her a bowl of cereal, and she never looked back.

We've spoken about it some. She misses it a little, and she's still interested in my "nummy nums" and talks about how Peanut will have them. She's committed to helping Peanut learn how to nurse.

Her weaning is not quite the perfect weaning I might have hoped for. Due to the need for me to work part time away from home from the time she was about 4 months old, she's always had a certain tolerance for bottles and binkies. Until I became pregnant, the binky was really a second-rate replacement. Since pregnancy, and the subsequent drying-up of what little milk remained, there was a slow but steady shift in preference for the binky.

The upside to this, is she never really had to go through a time when she didn't get to find comfort in sucking. There's was never a need for me to put my foot down and say, "no more" or "only for a moment." There were no tears to this weaning, despite the fact that she has not quite outgrown her need to suck.

The downside, of course, is that I will now have to wean her from the binky, which will be harder, since I have control over my body, but quite a bit less control over little plastic plugs that seem to turn up magically, as if growing right out of the carpet.

Just this week I have really seen the challenges involved in losing a valuable mothering tool like breastfeeding. Eve has her first post-nursing cold, and I cannot comfort her as I once did through the fitful nights. Her behavior has been quite awful, excusable because of her illness, but not the norm. Nursing helped her through discomfort and tough feelings in a way that a binky simply can not do.

In addition, my germaphobe nature is rearing its ugly head. I can no longer provide her with additional nutrients to augment her diet, consisting of almost nothing because of a decreased appetite. I can no longer provide her with my immunities through my breast milk. She's not protected as she once was, and I find myself feeling a bit nervous that we never went to her 2-year well-baby appointment to get another round of vaccines, which before never seemed to be much of a priority.

God knows how frantic I'll feel when she gets the stomach flu. Nursing has been the way to comfort, nourish, and hydrate through such an illness in the past. What will I do if she won't drink? Will a binky and stroking my hair as she rests in my lap be comfort enough? How will we get through it without nursing?

But the biggest challenge I thought I would face hasn't materialized. She falls asleep just as easily (which is not very easily, quite honestly) as she ever did. She still cuddles and strokes my hair, and it's just a little bit harder for me to tell when she is truly asleep, as the binky provides no signals as to how her sucking pattern has changed. I look forward to the day when she won't need the binky, and when it takes a bit less time to get her down for the night, but for now, I don't mind the arrangement (most of the time).

And then there's simply the wistfulness.

I'm sure that if I were not pregnant, and a mere 6 weeks from the due date of this new baby, I would feel a great deal more grief than I do. As it is, I know that another nursing relationship is right around the corner, with all its frustrations and joys. So I can look pragmatically at this weaning as a good and necessary change, inevitable and bitter-sweet.

Bait and switch

I know, last time I promised I would post something funny, or crafty or give updated pictures. Sorry!

I'm just gonna catch you all up on the latest.

God's been providing in amazing ways for us financially (and otherwise) during my husband's surgery recovery. Tom's back to work now, and I'm struggling to curb my reaction to buy everything I couldn't buy on the "No discretionary spending, period." Budget. You know the one, where if it costs money, you can't have it, even if it's almost, nearly free? or name-brand and 95% off? Not even if it's an emergency? (define emergency? can you LIVE without it? Yes? Not an emergency.) Yeah, that one. Keeping myself from wild spending is especially difficult considering I have 7 weeks to my due date, and maternity leave that may or may not end. If it does end, it will merely be to get us onto the "so little discretionary income that you might as well not do any discretionary spending." Budget. (under which, you can get the emergency items, like when Eve doesn't have any pants that fit, or when I run out of prenatal vitamins. Or when I really, really need ice cream--but hopefully after the baby arrives, I'll stop having those kind of cravings) The baby still needs a bed, and my wists, del.icio.us bookmarks, and Amazon wish list are filled with items for Peanut, Eve, and myself that seem like rather reasonable wants, if not outright needs. I'd also love to upgrade our Netflix from 2 a month to 1-at-a-time unlimited, oh! The luxury. And what I wouldn't give for a cute, comfortable pair of black boot-cut yoga pants for postpartum lounging, instead of the oh-so-lovely sweats I'm sure I'll be in.

I'm not sure I was genetically designed for frugal living, but I've been doing it now to one degree or another since my first pregnancy. And actually, I find myself no less happy (if not more so) than when I could go shopping for myself(!!!) at the drop of a hat. I'll even go so far as to say I've noticed no real increase in unfulfilled purchasing desires--my unfulfilled purchasing desires have changed drastically, so much of what was on the list 4 years ago wouldn't even make my "large amounts of discretionary income" Budget these days. Because, really, who has time or energy to go shoe shopping at Nordstrom every few months? Shopping for myself has become torture, so I just don't want to do it.

Speaking of shoe shopping, I bought new shoes! I really wanted a fun red pair that would "spice up" my boring maternity wardrobe and make me feel a little more cheerful when I'm still wearing this stuff at too-many-weeks postpartum. I ended up with a nice light-ish brown pair of fashion sneakers. They didn't have the pink and brown ones in my size, and I couldn't just not buy anything, since I was using a gift certificate, and Tom had come along to keep Eve happy. It would have been a terrible slap in his face for me to go home empty handed after he worked so hard to keep Eve out of my way for the forever it took me to find something even reasonably cute and comfy.

And speaking of Tom, after his knee surgeon released him for work, the surgeon's assistant who's been working with Tom on his hip and back (diagnosing if there's an indication for surgery or not) told him he needs another MRI on his hip with likely surgery there as well, if they find what they think they will on the MRI. I just hope that he's either fully recovered from this second surgery by the time I go into labor, or he doesn't have surgery until a few weeks after the baby arrives. All the more reason, I suppose, for me to save instead of spend. This working stint of Tom's may be short-lived. Just imagine the cool stuff God will have to do to continue to provide for us if both Tom and I are off work at the same time! Exciting times, I tell you.

Eve. She's swung a bit from the bratty and clingy to the sweet and sassy. She's frequently told me that she loves me, with no prompting and without my having it said it first. That just melts my heart. That, coupled with spontaneous hugs and kisses, and how can I complain about a few instances of defiance or tantrums when my little girl loves me? I can't. And, having only spent a few days trying to puzzle things out, I have discovered that Eve is much more likely to be grumpy, clingy and disobedient when tired (duh) or hungry (hmmm). One would think that an hour after breakfast, there would be no immediate, emergent need for sustenance, but when one recalls that someone has only consumed the thin layer of cream cheese from the top of half a bagel, complimented by two small bites of said bagel, it becomes a bit more clear that a snack is required.

Eve Got to take a small zip-lock bag filled with raisins, Cheerios, and Honey Bee Grahams in the car on the way to church this past Sunday, and then into Nursery with her, and reportedly (since I gave Tom the ultimatum that if he could descend and climb the stairs at home, he could descend and climb the nursery stairs at church just as well, and that, as such, I would no longer take Eve to nursery. Ever.) she went easily and without complaint. And several times over the weekend, food solved whatever ills were causing her to whine and cling desperately. I've decided that's one important key to keeping her compliant and cheerful, or at least making those behaviors somewhat more likely.

Potty training is basically dead with us. She hasn't willingly gone except right before bedtime to prolong her right to remain out of bed for as long as possible. We have, though, wasted several hours waiting for her to go when Tom is sure she will go as soon as we put a diaper back on her. This usually follows us hearing Eve shut her bedroom door, only to check on her and find her hiding at the far end of her bunk bed and yelling at us to go out--a sure sign she's about to fill her diaper with an odiferous surprise. It's just as well, as the imminent arrival of Peanut will no doubt reverse any progress we make in the next 7 weeks.

Sleeping is going fairly well. For Eve that is. I won't even start on how torturous both Tom and I are finding night time these days (I, due to Peanut, and he due to the re-institution of Vicodin as a night-cap, since working is much more painful for Tom than simply watching Eve during the day). Eve sleeps until 5 or 6 in the morning very consistently these days (and sometimes much later), and joins us in our bed until 7 or 8, depending on the day. She is also going to sleep more easily and quickly. This may be due to the horrid make-shift light-blocking sheets and table clothes we've hung up (I will take a picture, but it may be years before I upload it), or it may be due to the fact that we've been putting her to bed later because of social obligations or mere absentmindedness (on my part). Or it may be a combo. I definitely credit her sleeping in the morning to the light-blocking, but since the days continue to grow longer, and it's light until 10 or so each night now, her room is still fairly bright at bedtime (8:00 PM if we get it done on time). My spending impulse is rearing its ugly head every time I look at what I've done to those windows. Oh for the ease and appearance of some actual curtains.

Despite the improvement in discipline, and my commitment not to go hog-wild with my husband's bigger paychecks (which admittedly haven't yet started rolling in) I did take the opportunity today to buy a few discipline books off Amazon when I made my required prenatal vitamin purchase. Combining shipping, you know. If any of you have read Grace-Based Parenting or Heartfelt Discipline please let me know what you think of them. I should be getting them in the mail just in time to read a few chapters before Peanut arrives. ;)

Ooh, and speaking of reading, from the library (which is stocked in a rather friendly manner toward natural childbirth, at least when compared to Christian parenting) I've been enjoying Ina May's Guide to Childbirth and Creating your Birth Plan. Both are very informative, although I'm definitely getting more out of the Birth Plan book at the moment, as I'm still in the mother-written birth stories section of Ina May's book. I don't mind the birth stories, but I am rather particular about writing style, and have never enjoyed birth stories more than those written by Peggy Vincent in Baby Catcher. If you are at all interested in birth stories, or natural birth, I highly recommend this book.

So there you go, all caught up.

Oh! I almost forgot. My latest online addiction (must get in as much as I can before I'm tied to a chair and a breastfeeding baby for hours and hours and... hours and....) is Sk*rt! a new Digg-esque social news site for women. I find endless ways to distract and entertain myself, and I've added at least a dozen new and interesting blogs to my Bloglines account, so if there's ever a slow news day on sk*rt, I can catch up on my ever-increasing RSS feeds. Anyway, this post is being submitted there in a late attempt to enter a contest their running with fun prizes that would be perfect for Peanut and I (and that just might reduce my list of unfulfilled purchasing desires to boot!) so if you're reading this, please go join sk*rt (if you haven't already) and vote for my link!

Discipline

I have a feeling this post won't interest all of you. I promise that my next post will be entertaining, or full of crafty goodness, or at the very least, I'll post some more recent pictures of everyone's favorite 2.5 year old.

So...Eve's been going through a bit of a difficult time lately. I think a lot of it is age. I know some of it is the recent and temporary change of being cared for by daddy while mom's away at work and not by Grandma. I know some of it is that fact that she weaned a bit over 2 weeks ago, and had been on the fast track to weaning for several months prior to that. Some of it might be due to my pregnancy and change in my level of energy and patience. And of course, it has much to do with her age.

Disobedient and willful seem like pretty good descriptions of her behavior right now. Coupled with very recent bouts of extreme clinginess, and general whininess and emotional bouts of tears for no apparent reason. I'm sure there's a reason, I'm just not sure what it is.

This has brought discipline and my approach and philosophy regarding her behavior to the forefront of my mind as well as Eve's dad's. He's always been one for swift negative discipline and chastisement. I've swung more toward the positive reinforcement of good behavior and gentle discouragement of bad behavior. Of course, my natural inclination when sorely tested is often negative discipline, and so time-outs are used rather liberally in our house. Tom spanks Eve's hand for more severe infractions. None of what we've done recently has changed her behavior any, at least not an hour or so after the previous incident. I, of course, wonder if we're making things worse. It's hard to tell though, since living in time as we do, we can't go back and try a different approach and see how the rest of the ride goes had we done y instead of x two days ago. Too bad, really, as it would make for a much more scientific approach.

What brought me to posting on this today is a book that's making its rounds at our church called Shepherding a Child's Heart by Tedd Tripp. Now, I've never read the book, and only one of the couples studying the book do I *know* to share my beliefs about nurturing children, so I really can't say much about it first hand. However, in various conversations with other ladies in the church, I've gotten the impression that the message is: when we punish our children for misbehavior, we need to reinforce our wishes with scripture to show how they are not only disobeying and making *us* unhappy, but that they are disobeying and making God unhappy as well. From my conversations, there's also some self-discipline, heart-examining stuff for the parents (to try to be calm rather than reacting in anger) and the advice to pray for our children (which I wholeheartedly agree with).

So, here's the conundrum. I do want to teach Eve about God, the bible, and that obedience to her parents and the bible is...um, biblical. However, I don't want to make God into the bad guy. "Don't do that because it makes God upset." "God says to do X, not Y" "Is that a Godly way of...?" Using scripture is great, but scripture is meaningless and downright foolishness to someone without the Holy Spirit of God in their heart.

So that brings up that question, I guess. Does my 2.5 year old have the Holy Spirit? I come from a "Conversion" background and one that emphasises the idea that we choose Christ. I'm moving toward the idea that Christ chooses us and we then respond, but I'm still not sure how that works with young hearts that I would previously have labeled as being below the age of accountability--as in, can't be held accountable for their Sin because they are too young to understand "Sin" and the separateness from God due to sin, and our need for forgiveness, and can't "convert" because of this lack of understanding.

I do believe that apart from Christ, we can't please God, and that all our behaviors could have some scripture applied to show us how we are displeasing God. Only the Holy Spirit living in and through us allows us to please God in any way. In the same way, we understand sin and can turn from specific sinful behaviors as those behaviors are revealed to us through scripture and the Holy Spirit, by the power of the Holy Spirit. It is the Grace and Forgiveness of Christ which allows us to get to this place.

I feel like this book instead teaches our children that they must try harder to meet the expectations of their parents and of God, and that they must do it under their own power, which will simply lead to failure and frustration, and a belief that we have to work to earn God's approval. I think it's this kind of message that leads so many children of Christian parents to rebellion and to turn from God and their parents. Because the God their parents taught them about is not the God of the bible, of the Gospel of Grace and Love, but a distortion that shows God to be concerned with what we do rather than our hearts, and makes him out to be a big meanie who has impossible expectations and metes out punishment when we fail to attain perfection on our own.

So, I'm left with the knowledge that I want to communicate to Eve that God is a God of forgiveness. I've known that all along. But I still don't know what that means practically speaking. I don't know how to teach her of God's goodness. I don't know how to encourage her toward good behavior while having God in the picture in any way--honestly, I don't even, at this point, want to use God in the positive reinforcement. For instance, I can tell her that it makes me and her daddy (and any number of other loved ones) very happy when she sets her cup down instead of dumping out the "excess" water when she's no longer thirsty, but I can't honestly say that makes God happy, because is God ever happy with our measly "righteousness" when the bible refers to such as filthy (bloody) rags?

Honestly, I'm really frustrated with the situation. I feel like our attempts at discipline aren't working. I feel like we're not doing much to teach Eve about God in any fashion. And I simply don't know what to do about it. And if the best our church can give us is a method for guilting our child into better behavior whilst slowly turning her heart against God, then where do we turn for a more Gracious way of going about all this?