Childhood Anxiety

A Reader asked:
"Hi do you have suggestions for helping a toddler (2.5 yr old) deal with anxiety? She's scared of insects & loud noises such as the smoke alarm & vacuum cleaner. She's also recently told me she's scared of santa. Her fears seem to be increasing so I am growing concerned for her. Many thanks."

Dear Friend,
You are a conscious and thoughtful parent to see your child's distress and to seek help in healing it.  I offer you a big hug and the warmest of smiles, because I can tell that you are fully Awake and Aware in your responsibilities as a mother.

Your 2.5 year old daughter is also fully conscious and aware of her feelings and needs.  She has shown you that she is afraid of certain situations or things or sounds or people.  She has shown YOU her fears because she trusts you to protect her and to create a safe environment for her so that she can get on with the important business of her life:  exploring, learning, discovering, playing, growing and maturing.

As much as is possible, avoid situations that bring out your child's fears and anxiety.  Hold her trust in you as a sacred privilege and don't ask her to do what she is telling you she is not yet capable of handling.  She is doing the best that she can do already, based on her knowledge and experience of the world.

When she is in an unavoidable situation where she is demonstrating her anxiety, respect her authenticity by doing whatever she asks:  leaving the place or holding her or shielding her from unwanted attention.  Tell her, "Yes, I can see you are scared.  Mommy will stay with you."  Validate without adding drama.  Empathize and empower.  Do not try to talk her out of her fear or ask her to engage in an activity she is scared of.  She will learn to trust her instincts when you honour her feelings and her trust in you will deepen also.

Are you worried that she will never get over her fears or that her fears are unreasonable?

Let me share something personal:  I have been afraid of frogs ever since I accidentally stepped on one when I was about 7 years old.  I understand that they cannot hurt me, yet if someone brought one into the room this instant I would run away and hide behind a locked door.  Now imagine if the person who loves me the most in this world decided without my permission that he was going to teach me to get over my fear by regularly exposing me to frogs.  Would I get over my fear?  Maybe eventually I would.  But I would also develop a resentful attitude toward the person who did not respect my fears and who wanted to impose his own agenda on me.  I would no longer trust him to accept and love my authentic self.

Similarly, there is no reason to try to 'train' your child out of her fears, unless you want her to develop a mistrust of you or her other caregivers.  Most childhood fears will naturally dissipate as the child matures.  The fears that persist deserve to be respected and honoured.  Your relationship with your daughter is bigger and more lasting than her fears.

Offer yourself the enormous love and respect that you deserve for caring so much about your daughter.  Release your own anxiety about her fears and let yourself fall into a deep, deep trust of her and all that she communicates to you.  You are her role model and she is your mirror--when your anxiety disappears, so will hers.

For Freedom and Joy,
Patti

Christmas: A Time to Remember

How do you remember someone you didn't know?
How do you miss a person you never had a relationship with?

I have been pondering these two questions for the past few years as I've tried to resolve and understand the  death of my 4-year-old sister when I was just 4 1/2 months old.

My family has rarely spoken about Julia, her life or her death.  I have never known much about her yet I've always felt an emptiness in my heart because of her absence from my life.  In the past year, I began to talk to my mother about her and I began to think more deeply about my own beliefs about life and death.  I began to develop a deeper understanding of my mother and I adopted a new attitude towards the Purpose of Life.

Last summer my mother, her sister and I visited the cemetery where my sister Julia is buried.  My mother told the entire story of the day my sister died, the following days and the funeral.  Most of the details were things I had never heard before.  My aunt was also a valuable source of information, filling in her own perspective as both a mother and a sister.  I wept for 3 solid hours.

Before we left, I read a letter to my sister:

Dear Julie,
I came here today with our mother and our aunt to honour you, your life and your memory.  You have always had a big presence in my life.
In the past year I have taken several steps to honour you:

• I have put framed pictures of you in my home.

• I have started to talk about you as one of my siblings.

• I have started to say that I come from a family of 5 children and to regard our mother as a mother of 5.

• Not insignificantly, I have named my son Julian so that a member of our family will always be linked to your memory.

I much to thank you for, so I offer you these thoughts of gratitude:
While our mother grieved for you she was nonetheless able to be tuned in to her true mothering instinct while she cared for me.  I was breastfed past my 3rd birthday and I slept in her bed until our brother Ben was born.  Because of the extraordinary love and protection that our mother was able to give me as a baby and toddler, I have a deep well of love from which to draw on my own mothering instinct.  The abundance of love that she gave to me has multiplied into my love for my children.
I also thank you because your memory reminds me to never take my children for granted, to be grateful for every moment, to give my love freely and to celebrate their authenticity.
And third, I thank  you for giving me a reason to deeply contemplate the purpose of my life, what is death and the meaning of love.
Finally, I came here to tell you that I LOVE YOU.  Through much pain I have learned that once created, love lasts forever.  I give my love to you today as your sister because we don't have to be together to share the deep connection of being sisters.

Then I left a picture of my 4 children on her headstone.

Christmas always seems like an appropriate time to honour and remember those we love who are no longer with us.  While death may create a permanent absence, perhaps by reconnecting to the love we shared with our dear ones we can enjoy bringing honour and meaning to their lives.  

I'll be lighting a candle throughout the holidays in honour of my sister Julia, and I will a take a few moments here and there to connect to the love I feel for her and to the bond of sisterhood.  I will draw my children closer and I will commit more fully to creating Peace and Joy for others to share.  I will rid my heart of darkness and I will offer up Light and Love within my home and community.

Will you be honouring anyone this Christmas by reconnecting to the love you shared?

What My 16-Month-Old Nursling Would Like To Say (If He Could Talk)

Mommymommymommymommymommy!

Oh, Mommy!
I just love your milk SO MUCH.  I love it sweet and I love it warm and I love it fast and I love it slow and I love it crying and I love it laughing.  I love it SO MUCH.

I love playing with Daddy.  And I love playing with my 3 big sisters.  And I love reading my books.  And I love playing with my toys.  But I LOVELOVELOVE drinking your milk, Mommy.

My FAVOURITE time for milk is about one hour after we get out of bed in the morning and the sun is up and calling me to play.  I love it after I empty all the pots and pans out of the drawer and after I dump all the potatoes and onions out of the cupboard, that is.  It really is the perfect time for milk because I just need a little break from being so busy!

And my next favourite time for milk is when you're getting something for my sisters to eat because I know you're really, really busy and it seems to me that YOU need to sit down and rest for a minute, Mommy!  I just KNOW how important it is for you to let me cuddle you so that feel all happy inside!

And my next FAVOURITE time for milk is when I start to feel tired, Mommy, because that's when I really, really need a cuddle and you are so warm and so soft and your milk is so sweet in my mouth and it makes my belly feel like it's full of sunshine when I fall asleep.  And isn't that great, Mommy?  Isn't it great how when I sleep your milk is alive inside of me like sunshine and I am growing and thriving and becoming all that I can be?

Mommy, Mommy!  Is it YOUR favourite time when I need your milk again when I wake up from my nap?  Don't you just LOVE to cuddle me when I'm so warm and sleepy and peaceful?  That's my favourite time, too.

And sometimes my favourite time for milk is when I get my hand caught in that huge pots-and-pans drawer, Mommy.  OUCH!  And sometimes my favourite time for milk is when I see you come back from going away for a little while with one of my sisters.  And sometimes my favourite time for milk is when you won't let me grab my sisters' toys and I try to tell you SO LOUD that I HAVE TO HAVE IT!!

I just really love your milk, Mommy.  And did I mention that I love your milk all night, too?  Not just in the day?  Did I almost forget to tell you that?  I'm so silly!

Yes, Mommy, I love your milk in the night, too.  I love it to make me all warm and droopy before I go to sleep at night.  And I love it again when you go to bed a few hours later.  And I love it again just before the sun rises.  I NEED your warm sunny milk inside of me to REMIND me that the sun is coming back in the morning!

I love your milk, Mommy.  And I love you.  And I love the sun.

Thanks, Mommy.  With all my heart.
Love, Julian

(I love you too, little one.)

Surrendering to Motherhood

This afternoon I nursed Julian to sleep for his nap and then I went off to hang out with his sisters for a while.  When he awoke about an hour later, I went into the bedroom where he was rubbing his eyes.  I picked him up, expecting him to want to play, but instead he melded his little body onto mine and fell instantly back to sleep.

I sat on the bed and carefully arranged a pillow behind my back as I leaned back against the headboard, preparing to hold him until he was ready to be awake.  With my eyes I focussed on the precious dip of his Cupid's Bow, wanting to remember its shape always.  With my breath I focussed on his warm exhale, wanting to remember his gentle breeze forever.  With my body I focussed on his warmth and on the way his long legs stretched across my thigh, wanting to remember his 16-month-old form for the rest of his life.

You see, these are the moments of motherhood that I cherish the most:  The Moments of  Surrender.  I look at it like this:
I can pay someone to fold my laundry and vacuum my floors and wash my windows.  And there's a Daddy at this house who can zip zippers and wipe bums and push kids on swings and even throw a meal on the table from time to time.  But when a little child at this house chooses my arms as his bed, my shoulder as his pillow, my warmth as his blanket and my breath as his favourite scent, then there is nothing to do but to surrender to his choice.

I am Unique in this role as Mother.  I am the One my children choose.  I alone am able to be the safe place of unconditional love.  I relish this role.  My children choose ME and I choose them.

Is there anything on my to-do list that is bigger than surrendering to this moment of Motherhood?  Not even close. Will it matter if the laundry doesn't get folded until tomorrow or if the roast goes in the oven a half hour later than I planned?  It might matter a little.  And we'll deal with it.

Can you Surrender to Motherhood?  Can you hold a sleeping baby just a little longer?  Can you read aloud a favourite story for the 585th time?  Can you stay up late baking a favourite recipe so that a little one can enjoy a special breakfast?  Can you sing a silly song and laugh your head off just to hear the laugh of a precious one again?

Breathe it in and hold it tight.

It is so fleeting...

Freedom without Fear

Sometimes I let my children play in our front yard.  Alone.  Unsupervised.


Occasionally a friend or family member or neighbour asks me about this practice.  They are surprised that I am not more concerned about the safety of my daughters, ages 7 1/2, 5 3/4 and 3 3/4 years.  And since I'm not concerned, I always ask "What are you worried will happen?"

Inevitably I get two responses:  That the children will get hit by a car or that one will be abducted.

Yes, I recognize the possibility that one of those two terrible events could occur.  But let's talk about them and see if we can understand those fears better.

They could get hit by a car.
Yes, they could.  If the car went out of control, mounted the sidewalk and ran through our fence.  Our street has a speed limit of 30km/h and our driveway is just 50 feet away from a stop sign, so most cars going past our house are slowing down, not travelling at high speeds.  Yes, I've heard of tragic stories where a family is on the sidewalk and is run down by a car.  I've also heard of a bus hitting a bus shelter where people were waiting.  And I've heard of children drowning in the bathtub.  And I've heard of children strapped safely into carseats who were killed in horrible collisions.  Yet, I haven't stopped walking on sidewalks or taking the bus or bathing my children or taking them out in our car.

So yes, I see the possible danger.  But it is possible.  Not imminent.


And I trust my own children.  I have been outside with them so much that I know their habits and playing styles.  I know that they won't go on the street.  I know that they won't wander down the sidewalk.  In my mind, they are as safe playing in our front yard as they are playing in the living room.

They could be abducted.
You know, I used to walk home a kilometre every day along a country road and I don't think my parents ever worried that I could be abducted.  And it's not that more children are being abducted by strangers NOW than 30 years ago.  It's more that parents are much more fearful today because when it does happen, the modern media is able to keep it in the forefront of our minds until the tragedy is concluded.

And stranger-abduction is a very, very scary possibility for any parent to imagine.  When Elizabeth Smart was abducted from her own bed and when Tori Stafford was abducted from her own school, I'm sure that each of their parents assumed their child was safe.

So why am I not afraid?  I'm not afraid because being afraid will not prevent it from happening.  And rather than scaring my children by telling them to be wary of every stranger who passes our house, I use common sense to remove my own fears.

For one thing, I have never asked my children to talk to strangers.  Now think about that for a second.  Most parents make their children answer everyone who speaks to them:  cashiers, receptionists, passengers on the bus, co-workers, teachers, etc.  Then those same parents tell their children to never talk to strangers.  How is a kid supposed to know the difference between 'good' strangers and 'bad' strangers?  To solve this conundrum, I simply never ask my children to speak to anyone if they don't want to.  I don't care if the other person is offended--I care more about the integrity of my children.

I have also made sure that my children are well acquainted with many, many of our neighbours.  They see that I am comfortable with these people, we have been in their homes and I have helped many of them or received help from them.  This type of reciprocal relationship with people who would otherwise be on the periphery of our lives teaches my children how to develop a relationship of trust with people outside of our family and close friends.  It also allows them to feel safe in their neighbourhood.

Additionally, I am totally confident that my children know their way around our community.  Many times I have let them guide us home from the playground, the toy store or the drug store.  Many times I have let them guide our walk around the neighbourhood and they always capably find their way home.  IF (and it is very unlikely) they decided to leave our property without me, I totally trust that they would stay within our immediate neighbourhood and be able to find their way home.  No, this knowledge wouldn't prevent an abduction, but it does mean that if I look out the front door and I don't see them immediately that I don't panic and phone 911.

Freedom, not Fear
Have you heard about Free Range Kids?  I like it, though I'm not there yet.  After all, my oldest child is just 7 1/2 years old, and although she is really mature and responsible for her age, she simply is not interested in going anywhere by herself for any reason whatsoever.  If the day ever comes that she says "Hey Mom!  Can I go around the corner to buy a newspaper?", I'll probably be utterly stunned.

But that's not the point.  The point is that I can't see the sense in inhibiting the free-play of my children by either keeping them indoors or by harping on them about the dangers of playing outdoors.  Do possible dangers exist?  Yes.  Do I think that they would be safer if I made them afraid of these dangers?  No.  I prefer to see their incredible joy as they revel in their constant freedom.

What do you think?  Do you feel comfortable letting your children play outdoors without hovering over them?

Why Giving up a Career Matters

The other night Julian (15 months) woke up at 5am.  He thrashed around a little until he was fully awake and needing attention.  I tried to nurse him, I tried sitting up and rocking him, I tried rubbing his little belly in case he had gas:  nothing settled him down and after about 30 minutes he was crying.

I carried him out to the living room where he sat on my lap quietly for a while.  Then he seemed to want to lay down so we went back to the bedroom.  But he wouldn't lay down.  We repeated this little routine for the next hour.  Bedroom, living room.  Bedroom, living room.  Then we sat on the edge of the bed for a while and finally, close to 7am, he fell asleep in my arms.  Carefully, I laid him down and crept into bed beside him, desperate to fall asleep again.

And I did!  I fell asleep instantly.  (I have a lot of experience with interruptions to my sleep.)  When Julian and I simultaneously opened our eyes, it was 9:20am.  We had had a full night's sleep in spite of the 2 hour interruption.

But imagine if I had gone back to work this September when my maternity ended.  I would have had to get out of bed at 7am, just as Julian was going back to sleep.  I would have had to get my 3 daughters up and fed, then wake up Julian and get all the children out the door by 8am.  I'd have to drop off the two older children at a daycare for before and after school care, and then make a second stop for the younger children for full-day care.

I'd arrive at work already exhausted.  Since my career was as an elementary school teacher, I'd spend the day in a facility designed to turn every sniffle and cough into an epidemic.  Then I'd get to bring those germs home to my tired baby.  I'd be likely to get sick.  At least one of my children would get sick.  I'd have to work while I was sick since I'd need to save my paid sick days for when my children would be sick.  Chances are, I'd be in a state of semi-sickness all the time.

And that's not to mention the stress!  Feeling crazy-tired, I can't even imagine how hard it would be to save my best self for my children at the end of the work day.  And Partner-Guy gets stressed at his job, too.  Would I have anything left of myself to listen to him and offer support?

There's lots and lots of research available to support how important it is to small children to be home with their mothers.  And there's lots of research to tell you that it is fine to balance family and career and that your children will not suffer.

But I'm not even talking about the children here.  I'm talking about me.  If I had to go to work everyday, I'd lose my mind.  I did go back to work at a school for 4 months when I was pregnant with my 3rd daughter.  Partner-Guy stayed home with the oldest girls, but it was still really, really hard.  I had tremendous guilt for a long time when I was on maternity leave and I had to work very hard to heal the chasms I had created in my relationships with my daughters.

And I know how lucky I am.  It is only because we are coming from a place of privilege that I can even BE a stay-at-home-mom.  I know how fortunate we are to be able to live comfortably on one income.  Not all women have the luxury of choice when it comes to working or staying home with their children.

Some women can find the family/work balance.  Both my sister and Partner-Guy's sister are mothers who have full-time professional careers.  My brother's wife is able to work from home with her son by her side.  Several of my friends were able to work part-time or in temporary positions in between their babies' births.  And I know other moms who work at full-time careers and who are clearly miserable and stressed all the time.

I don't have any answers about finding the balance between being a mother and having a career.  But I know that I place less value on my career than on my health and sanity.  I'm not capable of being the kind of mom that I aspire to be AND working full-time at my career.  I only want to find my Freedom and Joy.

For me, waking up at 9:20am beside my joyful son is as good as it gets.

Tomorrow:  Why Picking the Right Guy Matters

Why Baking Bread Matters

In my first few years of motherhood, I believed that serving my family healthy foods was important.  We ate mostly home-cooked meals and we included lots of fruits and vegetables in our diets.  I baked muffins and cookies sometimes, but mostly I was content to offer my young daughters whatever they would eat.  Often this included packaged breakfast cereals, crackers, toast and pasta. 

Without a doubt, our diet was wheat-centric, a tendancy common in many North American families.  Then I started to read in various places that less is more when it comes to wheat.  (I won't leave lots of links here because you can find tones of online articles about the downside of eating wheat if you do a simple search.)  I began to phase out purchasing any breakfast cereals or crackers and we started to eat pasta only once per week.

But I stubbornly believed that bread was good.  We always purchased high-quality (by which I mean expensive) whole-grain bread from the brand Country Harvest.  One day I read the ingredient list on the bag of bread and discovered that it contained 2 additives to keep the bread soft and another additive to slow down mold growth.  I was surprised!  I thought that the more expensive the bread was, the healthier it was likely to be.  Not so.

I began baking bread about 2 years ago.  Immediately, my two older daughters were not interested in eating it.  My Partner-Guy was still buying grocery-store bread for making his lunches to take to work, and as long as that bread was in the house, my daughters refused the momemade variety.  The only way to get the additive-filled bread out of their diets was to get it out of the house.

So for approximately the past 18 months, I have been able to make all the bread that we consume.  I make whole wheat bread for toast and sandwiches, white hamburger buns and sometimes crusty Italian bread or garlic bread.  I bake bread only once or twice per week and I always freeze whatever won't be used within 48 hours of baking because it does go stale pretty fast.

As a result of baking bread, our diet is no longer nearly as wheat-dependent as it used to be.  We have conscienciously reduced our consumption of wheat and increased our consumption of legumes, fruits and vegetables.  Since the children don't enjoy the homemade bread as much as grocery-store bread, they ask for less of it.  It is also more dense and filling, so less is required.

I find the act of baking bread to be peaceful and joy-inducing:  the smell of the yeast, the elasticity of the dough, the magic as it rises to double its original size and finally the intoxicating aroma of baking bread that fills the entire house.  I never feel too tired to bake bread;  it is always something on my to-do list that I look forward to.  I look forward to running out of bread so that I can bake again.

Baking bread has made me more mindful about all of the food that I feed to my family.  I want to know where every ingredient came from and whose hands touched them before they went into my child's mouth.  I want to spend my money for food responsibly and teach my children that the people who grow our food are honourary members of our community.  I want to love my children with healthy food, not by stuffing it into them, but by providing it for them as a gift of my love.

I want them to see that preparing their food is not just another chore, but an act of love, joy and mindfulness.

Tomorrow:  Why Giving Up a Career Matters

Why Cloth Diapers Matter

For my first two children I used Pampers.  I put absolutely no thought into diapers whatsoever.  Everybody used Pampers, so I used Pampers.  I liked the smell.

I knew that there were people who used cloth diapers.  I met some moms at La Leche League who were using cloth.  Their babies had really big butts and their toddlers looked funny when they walked.  I liked the look of my sleek, skinny babies.

I had signed up for email newsletters from Pampers when Anna was born in 2004.  Occasionally Pampers would send me coupons, too.  Anna was consistently using the toilet or a potty by 26 months old, but since Holly (born just 20 months after Anna) was still in diapers, I continued to subscribe to the newsletters and coupons.  At 18 months of age, one morning Holly yanked off her diaper and never wore one again.  She was done.  So when I received an email from Pampers saying "Anna is 40 months old!  Is she ready for pull-ups yet?" it was both a light-bulb moment and a serious kick in the ass.  Pampers didn't want my children to ever stop needing their products. 

I credit Pampers with making me switch to cloth diapers.  Before Jasmine was born (in 2008) I found a great website run by a mom in the Greater Toronto Area that sold lots of products for natural mothering.  I spent about $400 to get set up with cloth diapers and covers and liners and a diaper pail and natural laundry soap.  About six months later I spent another $250 on larger prefold diapers and covers which I used until Jasmine was diaper-free at about 22 months old.  I've estimated that I spent about $1200 on diapers for Anna and about $800 on diapers for Holly, so spending $650 on diapers for Jasmine that I have subsequently used for Julian has been a pretty good deal.  And it was more effort to find a place to stack my clean diapers than it has ever been to wash and fold them.

There are tons of articles and information on the internet about the benefits of cloth diapers.  I started at Parenting by Nature to learn about why people choose cloth over disposable for environmental or health reasons. I didn't bother trying to figure out the cost of washing my own diapers versus using a diaper service versus buying organic disposable diapers.  None of that had anything to do with the reason why I switched to cloth.

I switched to cloth diapers because I wanted to love my baby with diapers.  That's right.  Love her with diapers.  Pampers gave me a convenient, mindless way to deal with my baby's elimination.  But I am not mindless and my babies have never been convenient.  Wrapping their precious little bums in unbleached organic cotton has given me another way to love them on days when I am tired or sick or tending to the needs of a tired or sick older sibling.  I love it when I pick up the baby and I can smell that he's wet and needs changing--that subtle infant urine smell is actually so much nicer than the perfume smell of a disposable diaper.  And changing his diapers more often (which one inevitably does with cloth diapers) gives him a little more attention in a house where three other children are also needing attention.

Cloth diapers matter the way homemade meals trump takeout.  The way homemade cookies trump Oreos.  The way a walk in the forest trumps watching a movie. Cloth diapers matter because being mindful matters.  The way we mother our children matters even more than the effect of disposable diapers on the environment or on our health.

I choose cloth diapers because the choices we make matter.

Wednesday:  Why Baking Bread Matters


PHOTOS:  Julian in cloth diapers in August 2010.

10 Things I Love About Being a Mom (This Month)

Yes, here they are in random order.

1. When I'm walking along and a little hand shows up in mine.
2. Holding a sleeping child.
3. Talking in bed with giggly girls before falling asleep for the night.
4. Reading aloud.
5. Being in the kitchen cooking and hearing the words "That smells GREAT, Mom!"
6. Listening to children singing in the backseat of the car.
7. When a child volunteers to wash my bare feet in her bath.
8. Always having a reason to be outside in beautiful weather.
9. Morning cuddles in bed.
10. Playing with Playmobil.

That's What you do in a Herd

How very mainstream of me to comment on how a line from a movie has had a profound effect on me.....

One of our favourite movies is Ice Age, an animated picture about 3 unlikely animals--a sloth, a mammoth and a sabre-tooth tiger--who band together in order to return a lost human baby to his parents. Animosity abounds between the 3 creatures whose personalities and individual needs are so different from each other.

Near the end of the movie they discover that they are walking close to an active volcano.  The tiger nearly falls in but is rescued by the mammoth. The tiger says, "Why did you do that? You could have died." And the mammoth answers, "That's what you do in a herd. You look out for each other."

That's what you do in a herd. You look out for each other.

That line was enough to move me to tears yesterday, as Anna and Holly watched the movie for the umpteenth time. It was a lightbulb-moment for me, a breakthrough in my struggle to find a direction to move in, a significant piece in the puzzle that has me trying to figure out what my core values really are.

Mainstream articles in the newspaper and magazines are really focused on parents and schools getting kids to give back, whatever that means. It's the Me to We phenomenon, and I believe in it and support it, but only to a degree. I mean, the concept of getting kids to think about how they can have a positive impact on the lives of other people is great, but I really don't believe that generosity and the value of hard work can be taught.

And all this advice and information for parents on how to have children who share and have good manners and who stand up for other kids is really beside the point if it doesn't happen at home. I remember a parent-teacher interview with the parents of a boy in my Grade 6 class several years ago. I told the parents how their son was a natural leader in the class and how kind and helpful he was with both adults and peers. His parents were stunned and proceeded to tell me how at home he did nothing but fight with his sister. It was my turn to be stunned.

But now, in retrospect, I think that that is a pretty common scenario. I know a family with three children (under the age of 10) who are involved in community clean-up days, delivering food hampers, raising money for cancer research and other worthwhile endeavours. It's great, except that I have never seen those 3 children interact with each other in a positive way. In fact, the mother has even told me that the children mostly either ignore each other or fight.

Well, how is that possible in a family where helping others is obviously an important value?

I know of another mother who is so proud that her daughters have never been in trouble at school for fighting or being mean to other kids. But at home, all they do is fight. I mean, they actually pummel and taunt each other.  I don't get it.

And wherever I take my kids--the playground, the playgroup, LLL meetings, the dentist(!)--I get comments from other parents about how 'amazing' it is that my children play so nicely together. Amazing? Shouldn't siblings be expected to get along with other? Shouldn't it be easiest for children to get along with the people who they know and understand the best, and who have had similar life experiences?

And I'm really tired of hearing that my older kids are nice to each other because they are girls. What kind of sexist expectations abound in our society that adults believe it is more likely that girls will show kindness and caring to each other than boys will? A boy raised in our home will behave with the same kindness as his sisters because that is the expectation, and it has nothing to do with gender.

Which all brings me back to my premise about what you do in a herd. If my children grow up with the consistent expectation that they will look out for each other, I believe that they will continue to consider each other's needs throughout their lives. I believe that a loyalty to one's own siblings can only help to make one into a better person overall. And what a wonderful knowledge that someone who knows you so well will always have your back.

I will consider it to be the brightest diamond in my parenting crown if my daughters and son all grow up to love and cherish each other. I look forward to knowing them as adults whose loyalty to the herd is part of who they are at the core of their beings. If they look out for each other, they will probably look out for others in a more general sense. They'll understand the Me to We concept. Good people look out for each other.

It's what you do in a herd.

6 Reasons I Never Wanted to be the Mother of a Boy

Did you read my guest post at TouchstoneZ ?

I wrote with honesty and anguish about how disappointed I was when I found out that my 4th babe was a boy. I wrote a follow-up post, too.  It's about the ridiculous things people have said to me about the sex of my children.

I'm not done with this topic yet.  It really matters to me.  I'm still completely appalled at how determined our culture is to make me raise a boyish-boy son and to make me want to value his contribution to my family more than my daughters'.  And it's not that I still feel disappointed that I had a son.  I adore my little Julian.  He is absolutely as wonderful as my daughters were at his age.  But he isn't MORE wonderful just for being male. 

Here's why I didn't want a son:
1.  I mostly don't like any of the little boys I know.

Why do the little boys in my neighbourhood stand on their front lawns and pretend to shoot guns at my daughters and I as we walk by?  Why do I always see brothers beating up and tormenting their younger siblings?  Why does every little boy who talks to my daughters have to turn every little interaction into a competition?  Why do all the little boys at playgroup and La Leche League try to destroy and/or hoard all of the communal toys?

And why are all of their parents oblivious to these behaviours?

You see, if these behaviours are just normal boy behaviours, then I don't want a boy because I don't want any child of mine to act like that.  Why would I have wanted a boy if I had to expect all these aggressive and anti-social behaviours from him?  And if these aren't just normal boy behaviours, then why don't the parents of these boys that I've described do something to help their boys learn nicer behaviours? 

2.  I can't stand all the stereotypes about boys.

If all the aggressive behaviours of boys that I've described above are TRUE, then I genuinely don't know how to be the mother of a boy because I CAN'T STAND those behaviours.  BUT, if boys are actually socialized to behave aggressively (which I believe that they are, but that's another post all together), then I should be able to prevent those behaviours by 'socializing' my son in the same manner as I am 'socializing' my daughters.  Right?

Well, maybe.  Unfortunately, people are constantly ready to throw ancient gender-stereotypes at my children.  They tell me that my daughters are CUTE, but my son is BIG and STRONG.  My daughter who wants to do everything herself is STUBBORN, but my son is INDEPENDENT.  They tell me that my daughters will spoil my son but that my son will protect his sisters.  Excuse me?

And why do people insist that my curious, happy one-year-old boy is 'such a boy' because he gets into the cupboards or because he insists on playing on the stairs at every opportunity?  My daughters did those things at the same age--so were they 'being boys'? 

Babies are babies.  A boy is just a girl who's a boy.

I refuse to believe that there are 'boy behaviours' and 'girl behaviours' in children who are too young to understand sex or gender difference.

3.  I hate the way that everyone wanted me to have a boy.
Just a few of the stupid comments I've heard:

• Still trying for a boy, eh?  (while pregnant)
• This one better be a boy!  (while pregnant)
• You better get the order right this time. (while pregnant)
• Daddy must be happy this time.
• Finally Daddy gets his little boy.
• So your husband finally got the recipe right!
• You got your boy!
• Well that took long enough!
• You can finally call it quits, eh?
• I guess you're done now, right?

Hi, people?  I had a 4th child because I wanted a 4th child.  I was never, never, never trying for a boy.


4.  I don't trust men so I don't know how to raise a boy into a man.
Throughout my twenties I seemed to gravitate toward men who were first-class liars.  Not just liar-liar-pants-on-fire-liars (No, I didn't sleep with my ex-girlfriend after I deliberately ran into her at the gym), but the kind of liars who would lie about what they had for breakfast.  Chronic liars.  Guys who couldn't open their mouths without lying.  Guys for whom lying was synonymous with breathing.

Add to that that I have two brothers, neither of whom has spoken to me in 7 years nor even acknowledged that I have children.  They seem to have a world view which includes requiring me to live by their values even if they don't do what they think I should be doing.

And then top it off with having a father who was emotionally unavailable for most of my life.  He didn't have my back when I was growing up, he didn't stand up for me, never validated or empowered me, never recognized my obvious talents.  I've forgiven him and I have a very good relationship with him now and I've figured out that his weaknesses are no worse than mine.

Still, I have serious baggage where men are concerned.  There is no man in my life who I would consider to be an ideal role model for my son.

5.  Mothers are always blamed for whatever their sons do that deviates from what is considered 'normal'.

If a boy is shy or sensitive, it's because the mother babied him too much.  If a boy is aggressive and bully-ish, it's because the mother didn't give him proper boundaries.  If a boy is not athletic and coordinated it's because the mother didn't give him enough opportunities and encouragement.  If a boy is lazy it's because the mother did everything for him.  If a boy is attention-seeking it's because his mother didn't give him enough attention.  I could go on and on....

I don't believe any of those ridiculous statements--but I've heard every one of them as an elementary school teacher. 

The way I see it, I'm going to have enough guilt about my parenting skills without leaving myself open for society to blame me too.

6.  I think it's harder to be a man in modern culture than it is to be a woman.

This could be an entire post in itself.

Why is it that girls who become astronauts and engineers are celebrated, but boys who become daycare workers or dental assistants get the raised eyebrow?  Have you ever noticed that people still use the expression Male Nurse?

I've observed that men are expected to be both macho and sensitive, but I find those two attributes to be mutually exclusive.  By contrast, I find that women are expected to be both sexy and intelligent, two attributes that I don't find to be mutually exclusive.  Men face pressures that women don't.  I'm sure there are many who would disagree with me about this point in particular.  I'm just saying that for ME, being a woman in 2011 seems a whole lot easier than being a man.


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After re-reading this post, I feel compelled to reiterate that I absolutely love my son Julian and I really believe that he is the perfect addition to our family.

But I'm still not done with this topic.

TOMORROW:  Gender Fluidity, The Genderless Baby and How I Intend to Raise my Son



Totally gratuitous picture of Julian (13 months), learning to walk while on the beach at Lac Morency in The Laurentians



Breastfeeding, Fertility, Conception and Contraception

Note to Some Readers:  This post contains details about me that may make you uncomfortable.

Have I ever mentioned that I am completely over-the-top crazy about pregnancy, birth and newborn babes?  Especially my own?  But I even love babies when they aren't mine!  When I see a woman in her 3rd trimester I start to have heart palpitations.  When I read a really good birth story I weep because I am jealous.  When I am close to a newborn I want to breastfeed it myself!

Yes, it's an addiction.  I probably need professional help.

But actually, until now, I've been able to satisfy my addiction by continually having babies.  Four kids in 84 months is a pretty good way to fill up my yearning for pregnancy, birth and newborns.  Which brings me to a very significant problem:  I've just become fertile again.  We aren't ready for another baby for at least 3.5 years.  And we have no idea what to do about it.

Let me explain.

My first daughter, Anna, was conceived just 9 days after I stopped taking the birth-control pill.  After she was born I was pretty grossed out by how heavy I was, so I went on a serious diet and ended up getting my first period when she was just 4 months old.  Fortunately I was able to achieve amennorhea again (for 6 months) by increasing breastfeeding.  My daughter Holly was conceived the first time I ovulated when Anna was 11 months old.  When Holly was 12 months old I conceived again (without having a period first), but I had a very early miscarriage.  When the bleeding stopped I conceived my daughter Jasmine. 

Jasmine was an amazing nurser and she had some serious food sensitivities so breastmilk was her primary source of nutrition until she was around 18 months old.  At 20 months we got help for her condition and she began to eat more food.  My son Julian was conceived when Jasmine was 21 months.

So as you can see, we are not having any fertility issues.  Actually, we do believe in using birth control:  I obtained a diaphragm from my doctor after Anna was born.  However, I've found from experience that it is not a very good choice for us....mostly because it has lived sight-unseen in the medicine cabinet for the last 7 years.

So now it appears that our Ultra-Fertility is actually a problem.  (I swear I can conceive just by looking at Partner-Guy from across a crowded room.)  We simply can't have another baby right away and my plan to use breastfeeding to prevent conception is apparently not going to work.

And there is actually a really good reason why we can't have another baby right away:  In 3 years Partner-Guy will have a 14-month paid leave-of-absence from his job and we intend to sell our house and spend the year travelling across Canada.  We feel it just wouldn't be fair to our other children if we bring a baby on the trip because the baby will occupy most of my attention.  So we intend to wait until we come back. 

Which brings me to the million-dollar question:
How are we going to prevent conception for the next 3+ years?

Your thoughts are greatly appreciated.

Hot Love in the Summertime

Oh, I love the summer!

And a new reason to love it just hit me yesterday:  SKIN!

Summer provides so many great opportunities to physically connect with my little ones!

• the hot little hand that slides into mine as we walk
• the sweaty baby head that rests on my bare shoulder
• the cold-wet, just-out-of-the-pool little body that throws herself onto my lap
• the soft arms that wrap around my back when I offer a piggy-back ride during a too-long walk
• Julian's cool feet that rest on my bare thigh when I curl up beside him at night
• the swimsuit-clad body that jumps off the edge of the pool into my arms
• Holly's silky hair as I braid it
• the tight little back as I push her higher and higher on the swing
• the dripping daughters who need a big towel after playing in the rain

Isn't it funny how these moments just don't happen the same way when the children are dressed in snowsuits?!

The Two Most Surprising Aspects of Mothering 4 Children {Under the Age of 7}

1.  How LITTLE my children actually need me.

When I was an elementary school teacher for 10 years, it was constantly drilled into the staff that we were 100% responsible  (i.e. liable) for the students from the moment they arrived at school.  We were strongly discouraged from ever leaving children alone in a classroom--even for a 2 minute trip to the bathroom--and supervision of hallways, entrances and even bathrooms was strictly observed.

I was still in this mindset when my first daughter, Anna, was born.  Even when she was sound asleep in a safe place I was nervous to have a shower or go out to get the mail because I had this compelling RULE in my head that I had to be ON DUTY every minute.  But by the time my second daughter Holly arrived 20 months later, I had discovered that a child can actually be unsupervised for a few minutes and most of the time nothing will happen. 

Now that Holly and Anna are 5.5yrs and 7yrs, hours and hours can go by when I don't even see them.  They get lost in their make-believe worlds of Barbies and My Little Ponies and Littlest Pet Shops.  They draw and colour for up to 4 hours in one stretch.  The get their own drinks and often their own snacks.  They dress themselves and are independent in the bathroom.  Now that it's summer, they go outdoors to the front or back yard without prerequisite 'permission'.

Some days I barely interact with them until they're ready for bed.  I can read The Toronto Star from front to back.  I can drink a whole cup of tea while it's still hot.  I can talk on the phone without interruption.  I can even send a few emails.

It's quite amazing how independent children can become in just a few short years.  (And it's funny how mainstream parents would think that my children aren't independent because they don't go on playdates or sleep in their own rooms or--gasp!--go to school!) 

Which brings me to the 2nd surprising aspect of being the mother of 4 young children...

2.  How MUCH my children actually need me.

Seriously.

I mean, some days I hardly get a moment to breath, let alone put makeup on or brush my teeth!  From the second we get out of bed, it's like this:
Mom!  Get me some toast and soy milk.  Mom!  Get Jasmine out of my Pet Shops.  Mom!  Find my pink sandals.  Mom!  Julian is going to fall down the stairs.  Mom!  I want the rest of your cup of tea.  Mom!  Did you put my turquoise skirt in the laundry?  Mom!  Watch what I can do.  Mom!  Can you turn on the DVD player for us?  Mom!  Julian is eating magnets off the fridge.  Mom!  Read this book to me.  Mom!  Can you play with Jasmine?  Mom!  Holly took my seat.  Mom!  Julian has his hand in the toilet!  Mom!  I hate this shirt--stop putting it in my drawer.  Mom!  Can you put these pyjamas on my stuffed turtle?  Mom!  Will you braid my hair?  Mom!  Can we go to the playground today?  Mom!  I said I wanted toast and soy milk!!!

I mean REALLY!
If they weren't MY KIDS I'd lose my mind.  Really.  Or I'd send them all to daycare and get a job.  Anything would be easier than 14 solid hours of meeting the incessant needs of these people!  Like, digging ditches, attending births or fighting fires!

But, OH!  The love that happens in the middle of the chaos.  The days where every answer is YES.  The spontaneous moments of Joy.  The Freedom that surrounds us.

It's all glorious.

Ritual of Affirmations

Welcome to the First Mindful Mama Carnival
This post was written for inclusion in the Mindful Mama Blog Carnival hosted by Zoie at TouchstoneZ. Participants are writing posts about what mindful practices mean to them, how they parent mindfully, obstacles to mindful practice and experiences along the way. Please read to the end to find a list of links to the other carnival participants.
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Many months ago I began a little ritual with my children at bedtime that has morphed into the most important part of my day.

My children--there are 4 of them, aged 7yrs, 5.5yrs, 3.5yrs and 11 months--all go to sleep in the same bed at (roughly) the same time.  Sometimes the baby goes to sleep first and then the older girls and I lay down together later.  Or sometimes the younger three fall asleep together and then the oldest girl gets up to relax by herself for awhile.  But no matter how it all comes together, we always end the day with what they have come to call Mom's Favourite Things About Us.

As we lay down together I describe for each child what was wonderful about her or him that day.  I tell about some action or moment or comment that made me feel excited or proud or inspired or amazed or interested or loved or loving.  Sometimes I tell them about something that I learned about them that day or something that I learned about myself through watching them.  I also include something about myself that I thought was special or important.

Some nights I am tired and it is hard to come up with something authentic about each child.  Some nights the baby is fussing or one of the girls has just had a melt-down and I am feeling particularly irritable.  Some nights I'm just in a hurry for everyone to fall asleep so that I can get out and do something on my personal agenda.  Those are the nights when it's the most important for me to make the effort to connect with each child by providing an authentic affirmation of my love.

I have come to notice several significant benefits of this practice.

1. I feel a deeper connection to my children.  It is very easy to tell ourselves as parents that Of course we love our children unconditionally.  But to actually put a name to the reasons and ways that we love our children is actually much harder.  I have learned that it has no value to use this special time to say "I liked the way you set the table for supper."  Instead, I use more emotion-laden words:  When you set the table tonight I felt so relieved because it is really hard for me to carry the dishes while the baby is asleep in the sling.  Your thoughtfulness made me feel loved and important.
2. It erases whatever negativity occurred during the day.  When there's been a big fight over toys or a lot of complaining about supper, it is sometimes tempting to use this special time to make a lecture or to offer some inauthentic praise.  Instead, I have learned to take whatever happened and turn it into something positive.  Holly, I am grateful for the way you told me that Jasmine was ruining your Barbie game by throwing her ball at you.  You helped me to remember to pay more attention to Jasmine when she needs someone to play with.  I appreciate how you came to get me.  I love you and I know that when you set up your Barbies very carefully, you don't want anyone to wreck it for you.  Jasmine, I really enjoyed playing catch-the-ball with you today and I hope that you will ask me to play with you again tomorrow.  When I play with you I feel happy and free and joyful and for a little while I get to be a little girl like you and have lots of fun.
3. It makes me happy.  Spending some relaxed time in quiet contemplation of what each child actually DID throughout the day has become a moment of great joy for me.  Our days are not empty repetitions of routines and schedules.  We embrace Freedom and Joy each day;  reflecting on our lifestyle never fails to bring a smile to my face.  By focusing on my own happiness in Mothering, I become even more happy.
4. It connects the children to each other.  The older girls are always interested in hearing what I say about each other child.  Sometimes they have something to add, like when I talked to Jasmine about how I've noticed that she really enjoys having visitors and Anna commented "Yes, it's nice that she likes to talk to our visitors because I don't really talk to some people but Jasmine always makes them feel welcome."  The older girls also insist that I talk about the baby each night and they enjoy my stories about what makes him a special part of our family.
5. It reminds me that it matters who they are right now.  I sometimes get so lost in the Big Picture of Parenting that it is easy to miss the day-to-day details.  Slowing down each evening to talk about the day-to-day details ensures that I will remember their precious childhoods.
6. It perpetuates more of the same feelings.  When I talk about how proud or excited I felt during the day I return to those same feelings of pride and excitement.  I believe that the more we focus on what we enjoy, the more we will have of what we enjoy.  By focusing on what is wonderful about each of my children, I am able to see even more of what is wonderful about them. 
7. I get to practice self-love.  I have had to work hard to overcome years and years of negative self-talk, and this little ritual of affirming my love for my children each night has helped me to give myself some love and appreciation also.  I am able to tell my children about what I like about myself which makes me like myself even more.

This opportunity to grow and learn while raising my children is both inspirational and humbling.  Isn't it amazing how a small ritual can take on such meaning and importance?



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Visit TouchstoneZ to find out how you can participate in the next Mindful Mama Blog Carnival!
Please take time to read the submissions by the other carnival participants:

• The Lost Art of Chill One Rich Mother explains how she overcame her habit of screaming through mindfulness
• Mindful Running Jenn @ Monkey Butt Junction shares how running has become her meditation.
• Mindful Mama...Who, Me? Kelly at Becoming Crunchy talks about why it's difficult for her to be a Mindful Mama.
• Ritual of Affirmations Patti @ Jazzy Mama finds out that a simple evening ritual can take on new importance when it is done with thoughtfulness and intent.
• My Mindfulness Challenge Amanda at Let's Take the Metro has set forth a mindfulness challenge for herself in an effort to become a better person.
• Keeping My Sanity by Losing My Mind CJ at Imperfect Happiness describes how she connects with reality by disconnecting from her mind.
• On Becoming an Aspiring Mindful Mama Melissa at The New Mommy Files has found that motherhood demands mindfulness, so she's working toward becoming a more mindful mama.
• Perfect and Complete, Lacking Nothing Rachael at The Variegated Life finds more time in the practice of being now.
• On Mindfulness and Multitasking Terri at Child of the Nature Isle reflects on how her mindful practices have changed since having children and how multitasking has been the key to maintaining a balanced life.
• I’ll Have What She’s Having Zoie at TouchstoneZ shares how she learned to trust in the “YES!”

It's Not Easy Being Green

Green is the new black.

Or if you're a mom who carts her kids to activities all over the city in her gas guzzling SUV, green is the new thermometer by which you measure what a great mom you are. In other words, the more money you can spend on making your kid greener than somebody else's kid, the better mom you probably are.

Being a mom is very competitive. Until recently moms competed to have their kids in the most activities (outside of school) or the most expensive activities or the most obscure activities or the most talent-specific activities. Now everybody is buying into the idea that kids need at least a little downtime outside of school, so instead of schlepping the kids to karate, hockey, pottery class and the math tutor every week, moms are making them wear organic bamboo socks and eat tofu burgers.

It's not that I think being green is bad. On the contrary, I think we could all try harder to reduce our carbon footprint, feed our kids better and make sure our spending power is supporting a sustainable economy.  I just don't understand why it has to be a competition among women to rank ourselves and jockey for position.

One time at a playgroup we used to attend,  there was a mother who seemed to be writing a thesis called "Plastic is Bad" who had all the Grandmas in attendance captivated as she preached about how she has nothing made of plastic in her house. She went on to describe how only glass or stainless steel or ceramic ever came in contact with her children's food and how they only play with toys made of wood or cotton. Right.  I just didn't believe her.

There was another mom at the same play group who I knew was living on a shoe-string budget and one day I offered her a bag of very high quality second hand clothes for her daughter. She declined them because she prefers to make her daughter's clothes from reclaimed fabric. Apparently second hand is not nearly as green or budget-friendly as making a winter coat out of her grandfather's suit jacket that he wore to get married in 1945.  She even said, "My daughter doesn't wear GAP".  Oh.  Kay.


Then there are the vegan/organic snacks these moms brought for their kids. Vegan/organic oatmeal-flax-hemp-carob-chip cookies. Vegan/organic unsalted squash-yam-beet chips. Vegan/organic tofu-millet-mushroom sandwiches. Whatever happened to giving your kids an apple?  Nothing can convince me that these kids have never eaten a Schneiders Hotdog, especially the kids of the moms who can't go anywhere until after they hit Starbucks.

But it really disturbs me that we moms are so competitive that we have to show off for each other that we care about the health of our kids AND the health of our planet. Why can't we just support each other and pat each other on the back? (This from a woman who can barely be in the same room with a woman sticking a bottle in her baby's mouth.)  But seriously, I applaud the efforts of every mother to feed her child in a healthy sustainable way.  I just wish that those efforts would translate MORE into growing community gardens and LESS into bragging about how much money the weekly groceries cost at the local organic health food store.

I want my kids to grow up able to make responsible decisions with regards to their health and the health of the planet. And what I believe is really important is that they see that I live in such a way that shows them that there is one standard that applies to the whole family. This means that I don't eat Schneiders Hotdogs while I feed them organic spelt-quinoa-barley pasta, and vice versa. At our house, what's good for the kids is good for the parents.

And what's good for the planet is good for us all.

An editted re-post from the archives.

Defining Moments in Parenting

How would you define a 'Defining Moment'?

For me, a Defining Moment is when something makes a lasting impression that affects who you are, possibly forever.

There have been a few Defining Moments in my life:

• When I was 7 and my mother copied out a song in PRINTING for me because I couldn't yet read the CURSIVE in the original copy.
• When my older brother was kicked out of the house when he was 17 and I was 10.
• When I won 6 academic awards at the end of Grade 7 and no one in my family cared.

And there have been a few Defining Moments so far in my life as a mother:

• The successful homebirth of my third child.
• Switching from disposable to cloth diapers.
• When my 4th child turned out to be a boy.

This week I had another Defining Moment in Parenting.  It went like this:

Anna's 7th birthday was on April 30.  Partner-Guy and I had reviewed her 'list' of presents that she hoped to receive, we had set a budget and we had both done some shopping.

But somehow we got ourselves confused and on the day before her birthday we both bought her some more gifts.  Needless to say, she was delighted by the bounty the next morning!

Holly, who is 5 years and 5 months old, was clearly a little bit perturbed by the amount of presents that Anna had received.  She compared it to what she had received for her birthday and she (rightly) came to the conclusion that she had received far less than Anna.  I talked to her about how her present choices were different:  Holly is more into crafts and Anna is more into toys. 

But for the last 4 weeks Holly has been noticeably discontent when she plays with Anna.  She has been the underdog--Anna's toys are newer, brighter and in much greater quantity than Holly's.  Holly has been handling it, but then yesterday she started crying when she was in the bathtub and when I asked her if she could talk to me about why she was sad, she said, "I can't play with Anna the way SHE plays because I always have less than her."

And there it was laid in my lap:  a Defining Moment in Parenting.  This was a problem that I had created and that I had the power to fix or ignore.  I had to think long and hard about my choice and run it through my values first.  Having a Family Mission Statement is an excellent filter when you are trying to make a hard decision.  My conversation with myself went something like this:

I value people more than things AND  I don't want my children to equate LOVE with GIFTS.  I don't want Holly to think that crying will get her anything she wants BUT I don't want Holly to feel unloved because she got fewer birthday presents than Anna.  I don't want to promote the Culture of More in our home, but I created this problem by giving Anna MORE.  If Holly went to school and she always felt inadequate or left out because she didn't have the same toys as everyone else, what would I do?  What are we all learning and internalizing by continuing this situation?  Am I living my values more by NOT buying Holly more toys or by making their toys equal?

Can you guess what I did?

I sent Holly to the toystore with her dad to buy herself some additional toys.

And this was a Defining Moment for me because I had to really consider how much POWER I held as the mother of these two girls.  It was scary and inspiring at the same time.  The Defining Moment was not that I bought Holly some toys.  It was that I suddenly became aware of how much control I hold in the lives of my children, even thought I SAY that I embrace a life of Freedom and Joy. 

Wow.  This is a lot for me to figure out, and what I am figuring out is that I am, to a large degree, a total hypocrite.  The words I say, and the truths I believe, are not actually the same as the life I am living.  Talk about a slap upside the head!

This journey to authenticity, this life of Freedom and Joy, this choice to live outside of the mainstream way of doing things IS HARD.  But I will not give up. 

I will refocus.  I breathe deeply and think twice.  I will listen more and talk less.  I will look into my children's eyes and ask them to help me to understand their needs better.  I will LET GO.  I will unclench.

I will love with MORE patience and MORE kindness. 

I will work harder to quench this thirst for Freedom and Joy.

Renewing My Spirit

Julian is not a cuddly baby.  As a newborn he would NOT be swaddled.  He hated being in the sling.  To fall asleep I had to hold him completely still with his belly facing the ceiling and if I so much as breathed too hard he would scream for another 15 minutes until he finally assumed the position to fall asleep again.  In his early months he was happier reclining in the bouncy seat than being carried in my Dydimos baby wrap while I unloaded the dishwasher, sorted laundry, kneaded bread or set the table. 

He just wouldn't have it.  He wanted space and when he wanted me it was on HIS TERMS.

And so I have spent the last 10 months adjusting my mothering skills to suit my baby.  I am a cuddly mother.  And what's more--I'm baby-crazy.  I love babies.  I CRAVE babies.  When I see a newborn I am hit with a pang of jealousy because I just LOVE having a newborn in my arms. 

 I hang my hang my head in shame and I admit that I have been a little disappointed by my experience with Julian.  Oh, I love him SO MUCH but it has been very hard for me to find a way to meet his needs AND mine. 

Yes, having a baby in my arms MEETS MY NEEDS.  For me, being able to comfort, console, protect, surround and nourish my baby is where my energy comes from.  It renews me--body, mind and spirit--to successfully give my love to my baby.  It fills me with patience and understanding.  It empowers me to offer more kindness and patience to my older children.  I feel complete and fulfilled when I am caring for my baby.

And so I have to dig deep and find new ways to feel my power and strength as a mother.  The moments I now cherish with Julian and draw my energy from are the many smiles and laughs we share.  He makes eye contact when he is nursing and then he grins from ear to ear--spilling milk out of his little mouth all over me, of course--and he makes me melt.  When he is eating blueberries or potatoes in his booster seat he makes little growling noises of enjoyment and approval that fill me with wonder and joy.  When he goes swimming with us on Saturdays and he splashes with his entire body, I soak up his enthusiasm and energy.

But when he wails after he bumps his head (which happens with alarming frequency now that he is crawling) and I pick him up and he wails louder and fights to get back down, I have to remind myself that he receives my patience and kindness differently from my previous babies.  And sometimes I have to show patience and kindness to myself instead of jumping to the conclusion that I must be doing something wrong if he won't accept my comfort.

I can reason that every baby is different.  But it has been a big adjustment for me to learn to mother a baby whose needs must be met so differently from my other babies.  How remarkable that Julian really is his own person.  And how remarkable that I have the priviledge of learning about myself through him.

I Am That Mom

Inspired by MJ at WanderWonderDiscover.

I am not like every mom. 

• I am that mom whose children stay up until 11pm playing Go-Fish with their Granny because sleeping late the next day is one of the fringe benefits of Unschooling.
• I am that mom who lays down with all 4 children to go to sleep every night and who stretches her arm past the baby and the 3-year-old to hold the hand of the 7-year-old.
• I am that mom who dresses the baby in three layers of clothes and packs a bag with apple slices and buttered toast because the three big sisters want to have a picnic outside even though it is only 3 degrees above zero.
• I am that mom who travels to another city to visit a naturopath because he is the only health-care professional she can find who cares about her child's severe eczema.
• I am that mom who bakes bread and muffins and cookies everyday because I will not feed my children chemicals marketed as food.
• I am that mom who apologizes to her children.  Daily.
• I am that mom who gets off the phone or off the computer whenever my children ask me to because being in the moment with them requires me to actually pay attention.




• I am that mom who doesn't allow guests to use adult language or discuss adult subjects in front of her children.
• I am that mom who doesn't make her kids adhere to strict codes of cleanliness because washing your hair or combing your hair or scrubbing behind your ears or cutting your toenails instead of biting them does not have anything to do with growing up to be a kind, patient, authentic human being.
• I am that mom who spent an entire summer rescuing ants off the driveway before Daddy came home in the car because a tender-hearted 4-year-old couldn't bear the thought of any tiny creature being harmed.
• I am that mom who is always surprised when her children say "I love you."
• I am that mom who says "Yes" when her 3-year-old, who self-weaned months ago, asks to nurse again.
• I am that mom who refuses to have ultrasounds because I'd rather find out the truth at the moment of birth than hear a bunch of 'maybes' and spend the joyous months of pregnancy worrying.
• I am that mom who doesn't EVER make her children answer strangers who ask them questions.
• I am that mom who values kindness more than manners and creativity more than success.

What MOM are you?

The Stats

My oldest daughter, Anna,  is almost seven  years old and as her birthday approaches I've been thinking about what my life has been like since her birth.

Here are some interesting numbers I've been pondering:

• I was pregnant for 37 of the past 93 months.
• Out of those 37 months of pregnancies, I breastfed for 22 of them.
• I have been breastfeeding for 79 of the past 84 months.
• In the past 8 years, everytime I've ovulated, I've conceived.
• I've never had a 2-year-old in the house without also having a baby in my arms.
• I haven't slept beside Partner-Guy in over 3 years.
• 9 months after the birth of my 4th child, I weigh 10 lbs more than I did before my first pregnancy, but I wear the same size jeans.

Do you have any interesting statistics from your years as a mom?