So I quit working fulltime because I was expecting No. 2 and I just couldn't imagine a life were I could give two the total love and focus I wanted to give and work full-time.
But last week, my son said to me, "Mommy, your work is ruining the day!" Oh, how those words crush.
Now, to be fair to me, we'd just wrapped up a two-day visit from his grandpa. He'd spent the morning playing with grandpa before we drove him to the airport. Then we followed up with a special treat--lunch at his favorite restaurant, then a play date with his best friend. While his baby sister was napping, I tried to grab 15 minutes of editing before the big event. We we planned a special night out at the Sesame Street Live performance. But my 15 minutes elicited an angry comment from my son.
Friends, it hurt. I try to only work when my children are sleeping or at preschool (a tall order, as you know!) But sometimes you just need a few extra minutes.
Don't feel bad. When I catalog the attention I give my children every day, I realize the guilt is unfounded. They are always the first priority. But to expect ourselves to always be on—ready to play, ready to be the cargiver, the servant—when our children are awake ... that's not reasonable, either, is it?
Trust me. You are an amazing mother. Your children will have countless memories of the love you displayed. Some will come from events you'll never remember—making the peanut butter and jelly sandwich, helping them make that very special snowman. You can't predict what that moment will be. I know, because I've tried. You just have to give your love every day and trust that they see it in your actions.
So don't stress the small stuff.
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
What matters most
Warning: Rant in progress
When I was a kid, there was a family down the block from us with children close to my age. They seemed like the perfect family: two parents, two kids, a girl and a boy. My brother and I used to play with the kids, although I can't recall their names anymore. They're one of the many things that have vanished from my mind with the passage of time.
One thing I do remember, though, is how their family fell apart.
This seemingly normal family collapsed so suddenly it was shocking. The mother decided she'd married and had children to young, and left to "find herself."
First off, I feel like there was a period in the late 80's where this happened a lot. I'm not sure if that's just an impression I hold because of this family or whether it was a trend to leave your family.
But as an adult, I can't help finding myself condemning that woman. If she needed to leave her marriage, then I support her. But to leave your children—in my opinion, unconscionable. Because those children didn't ask for their mother to have children before she was ready. They weren't clambering at her conscious before—or apparently, even after—their birth.
Dads often get the bad rap for ditching a family. Worse is when they leave their families and start new ones, abandoning their children as if they were the leftover sofa that no one wanted to claim after the divorce. But woman can be just as guilty of this.
No one could ever know what they're getting into when they have children. The lifelong commitment, the love, the responsibility. And anyone who enters into the state too lightly deserves a good old fashioned wake-up call: It's not about you anymore.
/rant
When I was a kid, there was a family down the block from us with children close to my age. They seemed like the perfect family: two parents, two kids, a girl and a boy. My brother and I used to play with the kids, although I can't recall their names anymore. They're one of the many things that have vanished from my mind with the passage of time.
One thing I do remember, though, is how their family fell apart.
This seemingly normal family collapsed so suddenly it was shocking. The mother decided she'd married and had children to young, and left to "find herself."
First off, I feel like there was a period in the late 80's where this happened a lot. I'm not sure if that's just an impression I hold because of this family or whether it was a trend to leave your family.
But as an adult, I can't help finding myself condemning that woman. If she needed to leave her marriage, then I support her. But to leave your children—in my opinion, unconscionable. Because those children didn't ask for their mother to have children before she was ready. They weren't clambering at her conscious before—or apparently, even after—their birth.
Dads often get the bad rap for ditching a family. Worse is when they leave their families and start new ones, abandoning their children as if they were the leftover sofa that no one wanted to claim after the divorce. But woman can be just as guilty of this.
No one could ever know what they're getting into when they have children. The lifelong commitment, the love, the responsibility. And anyone who enters into the state too lightly deserves a good old fashioned wake-up call: It's not about you anymore.
/rant
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Life before kids
Did you have one?
I know I did. I just don't remember it. Somewhere between the time I graduated from college and took my first job, I had a lifetime of fun before the baby bug bit. Hard.
When I decided I was ready for a baby I was insatiable. I bugged my spouse mercilessly. Admittedly, we'd been married already for six years, but I'm like a dog with a bone. Determined.
Looking back, I can't remember what I did after work. I remember thinking how weird it was that I didn't have to study. I even remember late nights at the office and bringing work home. One memorial day I was even called into the office to proof something.
But frankly, it's scary, I hope I remember more about my years at home with the kids then I do about the years before they came.
I know I did. I just don't remember it. Somewhere between the time I graduated from college and took my first job, I had a lifetime of fun before the baby bug bit. Hard.
When I decided I was ready for a baby I was insatiable. I bugged my spouse mercilessly. Admittedly, we'd been married already for six years, but I'm like a dog with a bone. Determined.
Looking back, I can't remember what I did after work. I remember thinking how weird it was that I didn't have to study. I even remember late nights at the office and bringing work home. One memorial day I was even called into the office to proof something.
But frankly, it's scary, I hope I remember more about my years at home with the kids then I do about the years before they came.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Work and Kids
How do you handle this often combustible combination? I choose to work from home. Usually - especially when both children are at school - the choice is fabulous. But when I get a big project that overwhelms my few hours of kid-free time....Well, that's when I dream of an office.
I've been at home with my children for nearly seven years. Sounds like forever when I write it down here. For the past year and a half, there have been days when I dreamed of re-creating my professional life: stepping into those killer heels and striding confidently out the door for a full day of delegating and Excel spreadsheets. But when the reality of actually leaving my children - all day, five days a week - hit, I sat down in my bathroom and cried.
I felt like the umbilicus was being cut for a final time. Not only would someone else do most of the raising of my children, I would be so busy doing laundry, errands and dinner, I'd miss even more of their days. My favorite quote (paraphrased here) about being a parent is that the days are long and the years are short. Already, my oldest is in school full days and moving quickly toward her tween years. My youngest child has left babyhood far behind as she runs to keep up with her sister. In a few more years, neither child will actively seek out my company.
There are days perspective is difficult, if not impossible. Kids can be intractable, annoying and dead-set on keeping you from completing a task. Still, for me, the best option is to remain at home with my girls. The one regret I will not have is spending enough time with them while they were young.
I've been at home with my children for nearly seven years. Sounds like forever when I write it down here. For the past year and a half, there have been days when I dreamed of re-creating my professional life: stepping into those killer heels and striding confidently out the door for a full day of delegating and Excel spreadsheets. But when the reality of actually leaving my children - all day, five days a week - hit, I sat down in my bathroom and cried.
I felt like the umbilicus was being cut for a final time. Not only would someone else do most of the raising of my children, I would be so busy doing laundry, errands and dinner, I'd miss even more of their days. My favorite quote (paraphrased here) about being a parent is that the days are long and the years are short. Already, my oldest is in school full days and moving quickly toward her tween years. My youngest child has left babyhood far behind as she runs to keep up with her sister. In a few more years, neither child will actively seek out my company.
There are days perspective is difficult, if not impossible. Kids can be intractable, annoying and dead-set on keeping you from completing a task. Still, for me, the best option is to remain at home with my girls. The one regret I will not have is spending enough time with them while they were young.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Great expectations
It can be healthy to have high expectations for yourself if you treat it like a goal and it energizes you. But it can be a real problem when you hold others to your high standard.
For example, we were recently on a three-and-a-half hour flight with our 4 year old and our 14 month old. I frankly expected disaster. My experience is that ages 1 to 2 are the most difficult flying time because they don't get what's going on and they can't sit still.
It actually went fine. But I suspect it was more my low expectations than anything else.
The worst thing we can do is to build up experiences we have no control over—large family vacations, plans with others that we make even years in advance. Then when things don't go according to plan, the fallout can feel devestating—wasn't this supposed to be the experience of a lifetime?
I don't know about you, but I'm always much happier when things are more fun, more pleasant, more exciting than I expected. So I'm gonna focus on keeping reasonable expectations where others are involved and save the really great ones for myself.
For example, we were recently on a three-and-a-half hour flight with our 4 year old and our 14 month old. I frankly expected disaster. My experience is that ages 1 to 2 are the most difficult flying time because they don't get what's going on and they can't sit still.
It actually went fine. But I suspect it was more my low expectations than anything else.
The worst thing we can do is to build up experiences we have no control over—large family vacations, plans with others that we make even years in advance. Then when things don't go according to plan, the fallout can feel devestating—wasn't this supposed to be the experience of a lifetime?
I don't know about you, but I'm always much happier when things are more fun, more pleasant, more exciting than I expected. So I'm gonna focus on keeping reasonable expectations where others are involved and save the really great ones for myself.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Big boys do cry
My son is 4, and he is sensitive. It's a trait I love and admire in my husband, a skill that makes him gentle with animals and children. But I haven't learned yet to be the mom of a crier.
Because, let's admit it, our society is not very accepting of boys who cry. And it bothers me. Why should my daughter be able to express her feelings but not my son?
I've fumbled about with this for a while. When a boy from Donovan's class pushed him in the swimming pool at a birthday party, I let the boy's mother con my son out of crying with a string of banter that distracted him from the intentional injury her son inflicted. And I regretted it later, wishing I knew how to better soothe my son and offer his support to calm himself without reinforcing the behavior.
This is one of the toughest tasks I've tackled so far. Because the crying can be, frankly, annoying. This morning at the community center he cried because he was sword fighting with his balloon tiger and the tiger became separated from his leash. Donovan was so distressed we removed to the bathroom and then, when he couldn't calm himself, to the car to head for home. There's a special sinking feeling as you do that walk of shame out of a building. "What did I do wrong?" you think to yourself.
I'm a book person, so my first step is to head to the bookstore to learn the right coping methods to help my sensitive child thrive. I need the tools to feel in control. But I also want to act responsibly and remember, there's nothing wrong with my child. He just needs my help to deal with the high stimulation of the world around him.
Because, let's admit it, our society is not very accepting of boys who cry. And it bothers me. Why should my daughter be able to express her feelings but not my son?
I've fumbled about with this for a while. When a boy from Donovan's class pushed him in the swimming pool at a birthday party, I let the boy's mother con my son out of crying with a string of banter that distracted him from the intentional injury her son inflicted. And I regretted it later, wishing I knew how to better soothe my son and offer his support to calm himself without reinforcing the behavior.
This is one of the toughest tasks I've tackled so far. Because the crying can be, frankly, annoying. This morning at the community center he cried because he was sword fighting with his balloon tiger and the tiger became separated from his leash. Donovan was so distressed we removed to the bathroom and then, when he couldn't calm himself, to the car to head for home. There's a special sinking feeling as you do that walk of shame out of a building. "What did I do wrong?" you think to yourself.
I'm a book person, so my first step is to head to the bookstore to learn the right coping methods to help my sensitive child thrive. I need the tools to feel in control. But I also want to act responsibly and remember, there's nothing wrong with my child. He just needs my help to deal with the high stimulation of the world around him.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
My dog has better manners than your child
We have a big dog. By big I mean almost 100 pounds. He needs to be trained - we're still working on that - so that he's always under control. Through weeks of positive reinforcement, our pup is learning more than a simple sit; he's learning to listen to everything we say.
That cannot be said for some of the children I've seen recently. When did it become acceptable to have kids yell at their parents and other adults? I mean SCREAM really horrible accusations at them. Over and over. And the parents just shrugged it off.
My theory is that some people expect more out a dog than a child. I do not think this is a good thing. Dogs are wonderful companions and you're legally allowed to kennel them. Children need the same level of committed training. Without the kenneling, of course.
That cannot be said for some of the children I've seen recently. When did it become acceptable to have kids yell at their parents and other adults? I mean SCREAM really horrible accusations at them. Over and over. And the parents just shrugged it off.
My theory is that some people expect more out a dog than a child. I do not think this is a good thing. Dogs are wonderful companions and you're legally allowed to kennel them. Children need the same level of committed training. Without the kenneling, of course.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Dr. Death
I'm shirking. We've had a death in the family and my grand master plan is to hide it from my son.
To be fair, it's his great-grandfather. He's a distant figure in my son's life. Someone who's sat in a chair quietly during our visits. He loved Donovan as his first grandson, but D is just so young I don't know if he'll really remember.
It just didn't seem fair to interrupt D's 4th birthday to do the death talk.
So am I a coward?
I hope not. Our last visit with his great-grandpa a few weeks ago prompted lots of questions about death. He's confused right now. And we're trying to give him a little time to process his feelings and ask more questions or let it be.
It's difficult. What would you do?
To be fair, it's his great-grandfather. He's a distant figure in my son's life. Someone who's sat in a chair quietly during our visits. He loved Donovan as his first grandson, but D is just so young I don't know if he'll really remember.
It just didn't seem fair to interrupt D's 4th birthday to do the death talk.
So am I a coward?
I hope not. Our last visit with his great-grandpa a few weeks ago prompted lots of questions about death. He's confused right now. And we're trying to give him a little time to process his feelings and ask more questions or let it be.
It's difficult. What would you do?
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Work and kids; the new oil and water
It's really hard to get any freelance work done when you're watching a couple of little ones. And, in theory, I'd really rather not. What I mean is, I want it all. Great playtime with the kids, a compartmentalized work time, and adult time with my husband.
Life's a little bit messier than that.
So here are a few tips to get stuff done when you can't keep all of the elements of your life so separate.
1. Play Doh. My almost four year old loves to create while he sits next to me at the dining room table. My infant cruises around us and plays with various toys in her orbit while my computer stays safely out of reach.
2. Indoor play areas. My favorite is the one at McDonald's, because I can get a coffee while he's running. My baby sits in the high chair and nibbles on munchies or in my baby sling, and I can edit on paper.
3. Tall furniture. In a pinch, I'll place my computer on the DVD shelf in the family room and compute while my kids play toys around me.
The nice part of all of this is that it avoids extra TV time or computer time, and the kids still feel like I'm present, even when they don't have my full attention.
Life's a little bit messier than that.
So here are a few tips to get stuff done when you can't keep all of the elements of your life so separate.
1. Play Doh. My almost four year old loves to create while he sits next to me at the dining room table. My infant cruises around us and plays with various toys in her orbit while my computer stays safely out of reach.
2. Indoor play areas. My favorite is the one at McDonald's, because I can get a coffee while he's running. My baby sits in the high chair and nibbles on munchies or in my baby sling, and I can edit on paper.
3. Tall furniture. In a pinch, I'll place my computer on the DVD shelf in the family room and compute while my kids play toys around me.
The nice part of all of this is that it avoids extra TV time or computer time, and the kids still feel like I'm present, even when they don't have my full attention.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
What the bookstore knows ... and the library doesn't
My son can always find at least five books he wants to take home with him every time we go to the bookstore. Chip off the old block, and I'm proud. I never get out of the bookstore myself without dropping at least $50.
So why doesn't the library elicit the same reaction? Same product, right, only it's free and you can return it as soon as the new wears off?
It's simple. The bookstore is smarter. Our library is very kid friendly. It's got places for kids to color, story times, toy dinosaurs, and puzzles. They put the emphasis everywhere BUT the books. So the result: The kids go there and play. And don't crack a book.
Our bookstore is so different. The books are displayed in splashy, colorful glory. On racks where the kids can reach. With turn styles, on tables, and brilliantly sectioned by age and interest. It's easy to find Dr. Suess or a new book on whales.
Sorry, Dewey Decimal system. You're just not that kid friendly.
The bookstore has to be smarter. Otherwise kids won't sample the crack they're selling. The word stew will never be sampled, and they'll miss out on a lifelong customer.
Wish my library could figure that out.
So why doesn't the library elicit the same reaction? Same product, right, only it's free and you can return it as soon as the new wears off?
It's simple. The bookstore is smarter. Our library is very kid friendly. It's got places for kids to color, story times, toy dinosaurs, and puzzles. They put the emphasis everywhere BUT the books. So the result: The kids go there and play. And don't crack a book.
Our bookstore is so different. The books are displayed in splashy, colorful glory. On racks where the kids can reach. With turn styles, on tables, and brilliantly sectioned by age and interest. It's easy to find Dr. Suess or a new book on whales.
Sorry, Dewey Decimal system. You're just not that kid friendly.
The bookstore has to be smarter. Otherwise kids won't sample the crack they're selling. The word stew will never be sampled, and they'll miss out on a lifelong customer.
Wish my library could figure that out.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Three things for you
I've got a fierce mocha latte habit. Every morning, the craving starts as soon as the light filters through the blinds in my bedroom. In fact, sometimes the scheming begins the night before. What errands can I rearrange to swing by the coffee shop?
Yes, I've been a sucker for stopping by certain grocery stores because they feature coffee bars. My husband will tell you it's an addiction to the bean. But it's really much more, though it took me while to realize it. Sometimes that swing by the coffee shop is the one thing I do for myself all day.
In between diapers, feedings, cooking, cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping, and freelance gigs, it's easy to lose yourself. That's when the resentment creeps in. Not far behind is a sense of hopelessness. And finally, anger. Yes. Anger.
Why are the kids so demanding? Why can't the spouse get home earlier, and why doesn't he understand I need him to take over the kids so I can finish the 16 chores I started in the midst of all of the chaos of the day? There's a simple answer. Too often we don't ask. And we get so busy giving, we don't give to ourselves.
Ladies, let's face it. Whether you work inside or outside the home, work doesn't stop at 5 p.m. And there's always one more thing.
Today, make sure that one more thing you do is for YOU. That's why I'm making a commitment to three for me. That's three things I'll do every day just for me.
My daily three for me:
1. Paint my toenails.
2. Enjoy a cup of tea.
3. Read for 15 minutes.
Will you take the three for me pledge?
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