"come see, come see": on changing the story

Since we moved here to NOLA, I'm on constant alert for cockroaches. No, I'm never going to call them "palmetto bugs" - that's far too pretty a name, dreamed up by genteel Southerners, for something that strikes such fear and loathing in my cold, Yankee heart. Every time I see anything small or dark on the floor or catch a movement from the corner of my eye, my blood turns to ice and I can't breathe for a second. And with the exception of our first day moving in, I've seen a lot of pieces of leaves, Cheddar Bunnies, and bobby pins, but no impending plague.

My husband writes, at least some of the time, on the topic of priming and framing effects in his philosophical work - the things that set you up to view an event in a certain way or come to one decision rather than another simply due to the saliency of certain features or characteristics. I used to talk about this sort of thing with my high school students, too: a literary theory is a lens through which to view a story, a frame of reference that sharpens the details within it and blurs away whatever doesn't fit inside. Everyone told me the bugs down here were nightmarish. I'm already terrified of bugs. So I'm primed to scream and hit the ceiling any time I see a glimpse of anything strange on the carpet, whether it's a bug or not.

The other day just after a brief afternoon rain, I was rushing to get the girls into the car to race to the grocery store for dinner ingredients, something I should have been already cooking five minutes ago. They were dragging their feet and I wasn't even looking at them when I told them to hurry up, already. Finally, I turned back and saw the delay for what it really was: not a purposeful attempt to thwart my grocery trip, but a moment of excitement and joy that I was ignoring. "Come see, come see," they had been saying, though I hadn't heard them. "You almost missed it."

Our girly trio has been in a rough patch for some time because, due to the stress of our move and the nature of life with a toddler and a preschooler who are still learning the ropes of being human, we're often primed to see and think the worst of each other. "Don't be mad," Lorelei says to me several times a day (parroted, of course, by her adoring and highly imitative younger sister), even if what I've just said to her wasn't in an angry or frustrated tone at all. I assume any disobedience is an act of defiance, meant to push my buttons in all the right (wrong) ways. Lorelei flies into a rage if we so much as suggest that what she's doing - or, more often, about to do - is somehow against the rules of safety or propriety. Phoebe is stuck firmly in a stage of relishing the negative attention she gets for acting out, and certain routines and every day activities send her into epic tantrums simply out of habit.

I'm primed, too, whether from personality or habit of my own, to focus on all of the ugly. On the fights every day at lunch. On the screaming fits at bedtime. On the meltdowns in the museum gift shop (why, why, why must we always exit through the gauntlet of brightly colored stuffed toys and packages of candy when the kids are tired and hungry and in need of naps?). On the whining and the contrariness and the ungrateful shrugs and the daily declarations of "You're not nice, Mommy."

But have you noticed how these become inescapable? How the more my kids tell me not to be mad, the more mad I get? What about the students starting school this fall who, when previous teachers see their names on a fellow educator's roster, get immediately flagged as difficult, trouble, bad seeds? What about cops conditioned to see themselves as combat soldiers or teens to view all authority figures as evil and corrupt? I already know how this story ends, we say. I've read it before. We don't bother to crack the binding to even pretend like we're invested in finding out for ourselves. And we live up, or down, to those expectations because how could we not, when we're told so definitively who we are over and over again?

I'm tired of the sass talk and the tantrums and the general ugliness. But I'm trying, the only way I know how, to revise the narrative: to help them change their stories by changing my own. "Think of three good things that happened today before you go to sleep," my mom always said to me on nights when I wanted to wallow in my frustrations. I want to think of three, thirty, three hundred good things about those girls: the times when they follow a snail down the sidewalk, happy and curious and excited together.  And then maybe those palmetto bugs lurking in the corner will fade into the background. Or maybe - just maybe - they weren't even there to begin with.

an interrupted life.

I eat breakfast standing up, holding a baby, or in snatched bites while brushing messy toddler hair and running a comb through my own, my oatmeal bowl perched precariously on the bathroom counter. I eat lunch in between endless demands to "watch this!" and "play with me!" Every night, I slap dinner on the table, say a prayer, and then head upstairs to put a baby to bed while my food grows cold.

At night, when the girls are in bed, I fold a shirt or two, then run in to replace a pacifier for the 12th time, or I watch ten minutes of a show I started yesterday before having to reassure my whimpering daughter that the train going by isn't scary, after all. Even when I'm out of the house, the text messages about who is crying or whether going in to check someone's diaper will make the situation worse or better. And while I'm out, it's hurry hurry hurry so I can be home within 90 minutes or - if the stars are perfectly aligned - 2 hours so unless I draw a detailed map and plan of attack before I leave, I inevitably don't have time to finish all the errands I needed to. Or I'm halfway through sewing a hem when someone announces, "Hey, I'm stopping my work for the night because I need a break, so let's hang out."

Interruption. It's the hardest thing for me to cope with at this stage of parenting. I get so used to not being allowed to concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes at a time that I can't even read a book anymore - I can't allow myself to settle in and enjoy the characters or storyline because I'm always looking over my shoulder, waiting for someone to need me to jump up and attend to something on their to-do list while my own collects so much dust I can barely read what's on it anymore. It's why I have a million supplies for household improvement projects but nothing to show for it. It's why there are three unpublished drafts sitting in my Blogger posts, waiting for me to finish them. And it's why this one will have to go to print now, before I've even read through it for typos, because a baby's 45 minute nap just ended and whatever else I was going to say here will just have to wait, like everything else.

adventures in motherhood: why is it so hard to make friends as an adult?

Though this weekly post series is ostensibly about my life as a mom, I could very easily be writing this one just from my perspective as someone past the college years. Why doesn't anyone ever tell you how hard it will be to make friends once you're not in school anymore?

(image)

Jason and I were reflecting -- enviously -- on my brother's social life the other day. Granted, he has no children, but he's only 2 years younger than we are and he seems to be "out with friends" any time we try to get ahold of him. "How does he know that many people, let alone know them well enough to call them friends?" my husband was saying grumpily. And then it hit us: my brother lives and works in the city where he graduated from college -- so most of his friends are his old college buddies! (No fair.)

When I taught in Colorado for five years, I was lucky enough to work at a school full of kindred spirits, so I made strong connections with my coworkers. Most of us were in similar "life situations" (late 20s or early 30s, transplanted from all sorts of places across the country, married or in long-term relationships, pursuing a career in education out of passion for it rather than necessity, invested in working for progressive social change), so it was easy to bond over our commonalities.

(some of my favorite people from Colorado)

And then I moved to Illinois and started working at a very traditional public school where the teachers all grew up around here, went to two or three schools within easy driving distance of here, married someone from here... it's not that they weren't friendly, but the message was fairly clear from most of them: "I already have an established life and circle of friends, and I don't really have room for someone new who doesn't fit the mold." And the few people I did connect with? Well, it's not easy to stay in touch now that I'm at home during the hours we used to spend together.

There are three main moms groups in town, and one of them isn't  accepting new members. I have tried to go to events hosted by one of the groups, but I always end up feeling out of my element. And the final group -- where there are definitely kindred spirits, which is so, so lovely -- tends to be moms of older toddlers, so they often meet at times when I have to be home with a sleeping baby. I enjoy my time with them when I get to see them, but I don't feel like I've made any super close friendships (yet). It'd be nice to be able to hang out with other moms and kiddos close in age to Lorelei during the daytime rather than having to sacrifice my few sacred hours of time to myself at night, too...

I think that's part of the reason blogging has become such a big part of my life. When I check in on blogs from people like Emily, Margaux, Jennifer, Amber, Nicolle, Manda, D., Leah, and Megan, it feels like a virtual playdate: they all have babies who are a very similar age to mine so we can commiserate, swap tips, lend a sympathetic ear, and feel in general like we're not alone in these parenting struggles. Wish we could do it in real life, too! I'm so jealous of Libby and her group of friends who are all soon-to-be mamas -- how wonderful would it be to go through something like that together?

(some of my girlfriends from back home in MN at my baby shower -- wish we lived closer!)

Do you have any tips for finding adult friends, especially if you live far away from where you grew up or went to school? Have you tried using cards like the ones PJ is offering up in her giveaway?  I'd love to hear your insights!

round 'em up, cowboy.

Some links to love for your Friday:

Hot off the presses -- Brent's intimate look at being a stay-at-home-dad. So nice to get the perspective of Melissa's other half! (Also, I loved this post of hers recently, since it relates so much to what I've been thinking about.)

Oh, fashion bloggers -- this guy has you pegged.

A feminist takes on the brigade of Disney princesses.

A post on Postpartum Progress has The Feminist Breeder in a tizzy -- what do you think?

Two great giveaways: one for baby and one for you!

A humorous look at how hard it is to be a parent -- even for a few hours.

Until next week...

(Chrissy Deming Photography)

adventures in motherhood: pushing + letting go.

Do you actively push your child towards the next developmental leap, or do you tend to sit back and enjoy the ride?

Lorelei's favorite activity recently: looking longingly at the big world outside her door 
(p.s. don't you love that baby mullet? It kills me.)

I've had this on the brain lately because Lorelei isn't walking yet. I'm not concerned -- she's barely over a year and is a fantastic crawler who doesn't seem to need another method of locomotion -- but it's a milestone that everyone asks about once they find out how old she is. I didn't walk until I was over 15 months old and clearly turned out just fine, but there's a little bit of pressure for Lorelei to get her feet moving in time to be the flower girl for my brother's wedding next month. So I sometimes, just a little bit, try to encourage her to take some steps by herself. And she promptly sits her butt right down onto the carpet and goes back to poking her baby doll's eyes with her fingers.

When I see other moms on the playground, I sense that a lot of them are eager to share what amazing new tricks their babies and toddlers are mastering, and I certainly love sharing Lorelei's exploits, too. But when and where do you draw the line between encouraging their development and dropping them into the deep end before they're ready? I'd like a toddler who can put on her own shoes, use the potty, and feed herself without making a mess as much as the next mom. But I'm trying really, really hard to enjoy our current stage instead of rushing into the next one.

I'm going to keep right on offering a hand when Lorelei wants to take a few steps, repeating simple words and phrases over and over when she points at her favorite objects or new ones that have just grabbed her attention, playing stimulating music and taking her on "educational" outings and planning playdates for her social development. But I'm also not going to worry that her playmates are doing things she isn't quite ready for -- the girl's gotta set her own pace, because (as my old principal used to say) this is a marathon, not a sprint.

Instead, here's a list of unique-to-her talents Lorelei has mastered at this point:

insisting on having the milk carton on the table in front of her at breakfast so she can "mooo" at the picture of the cow on it to her heart's content

shaking her money-maker with wild abandon if you utter the phrase "wiggle butt" in her general vicinity

waving furiously at anything she sees that she likes -- a squirrel outside, a picture of a baby in a book -- in a way that tugs at your heartstrings because it is so sweet ("Hello! I like you! I hope you might like me too!")

using her pretend bank as a cup and laughing hysterically when the "coins" fall out onto her face (or, better yet, into her mouth)

"reading" Ten Little Fingers and Ten Little Toes  by pointing to all of the babies' fingers and toes and then pointing to her own...on pretty much every single page

What amazing and unique milestones is your little one working on right now?

first birthday week: best books for new moms

To continue this week-long celebration of Lorelei's first birthday, I thought I'd share my list of must-have books for new moms:

The Nursing Mother's Companion by Kathleen Huggins: a no-nonsense guide to all of the nitty-gritty about breastfeeding. This book has been my constant companion for the past twelve months -- it's the best resource I came across for everything from initial latch-on to starting solids to lancing a plugged milk duct (yikes!).

Operating Instructions by Anne Lamott: I could have written this, if I could write like Anne Lamott. Captures the emotions of the first year of motherhood perfectly. Read my full review here.

The Shelter of Each Other by Mary Pipher, MD: a book all about creating a solid, loving family environment in a world where feuding families are cheap and easy fodder for primetime TV. Read my full review here.

Your Baby's First Year: AAP-approved advice, milestone charts, lots of good parenting basics. Nothing too new or fancy, but a good solid resource to have around.

Great With Child by Beth Ann Fennelly: warm, inspirational, honest account of motherhood. Read my full review here.

I Love You, Mouse by John Graham: out of print, but a wonderful bedtime story that surpasses Goodnight Moon and Guess How Much I Love You, in my opinion. The Tomie dePaola drawings are darling.

You might have noticed I'm not recommending any sleep books. I've read at least a dozen (not hyperbole), and none of them are a perfect fit for my baby. There are many parents who will tell you "This book will get your baby sleeping through the night in two days!" and I'm sure that is true for their baby, but not necessarily for yours. I'd advise borrowing sleep books from friends and/or the library until you hit on one that works for you -- and then buy it once you've decided it's worth its weight in gold!

I'd also suggest investing in an e-reader and a subscription to audible.com for those long hours of nursing, or rocking, or pacing the floor with your newborn in arms.

first birthday week: letter to my pregnant self on May 22nd, 2011

Dear One-Year-Ago Self,

You can do this.

(picture by our doula, Kim Wheaton)

Having a baby turns out to be the most difficult thing you will ever do, but I promise you that you will make it through this first year relatively unscathed -- though of course changed forever in uncountable ways. Some days, it will feel like you can't do it and won't make it through the next hour, let alone the whole day or week or month. And then it will suddenly be May 22nd, 2012 and you won't be able to believe that a whole year has passed by since you were last blissfully ignorant of the journey ahead of you (by the way, your water is going to break tomorrow -- just warning you!).

One year in, I still don't know what I'm doing. But I've learned a few things that I wish I had known a year ago today, so I'm telling you now:

There's no shame in making mistakes. In fact, don't even consider them to be mistakes -- you're learning how to be a mom, and it's really hard! There's no perfect way to parent, and soon enough you'll get into a rhythm. But until then, stop feeling guilty. Stop worrying that people are judging your every move. Mostly, stop judging yourself against a pre-baby vision of yourself as a mother. It's not what you pictured. And that's okay.

Take a shower. Wear something cute. Demand that you have time every day to do your hair and put on makeup. Get outside. Make time to read (don't wait two months to discover you can use your Nook or listen to audiobooks while nursing). If you do not do these things, you will suffocate. Remember your high school English teacher's policy of "dress right, test right"? It totally applies here -- you will be a better "you" if you feel good about yourself.

Feeling overwhelmed is normal. Crying in the shower is normal. Thinking you are a horrible mother is normal. It is also normal and good to see a counselor. Don't wait until month four -- go now.

Make connections to other moms. They are just as frazzled and nervous and overwhelmed as you about disrupting their babies' nap schedules to meet up -- so bring a pack-and-play and your Boppy with you or invite them to come over even though your house is a mess. You cannot do this alone.

Get a better camera than that point-and-shoot you're using. Believe me, you'll be thankful when you realize you took at least 5000 pictures during the first year.

Breastfeeding is difficult. And no matter what they tell you, it's definitely possible to be allergic to lanolin. Get help. Get a prescription for APNO. Don't be afraid to pump -- it's going to make life a lot easier, even though it seems weird and scary at first. And later, when you think it's under control, she'll start teething or get really squirmy or go on strike. There will always be challenges to nursing. Just like with everything else, let go of "perfect" and be okay with "this is what works for us."

(picture by my friend Beth)

This is the longest shortest time. It will feel interminable. It is. It's okay to be angry with people who say "Enjoy these moments while you can." Motherhood will not feel natural at first. You are just not one of those women. You will feel as if you've been thrown off a cliff. I promise you won't hit bottom -- just reach out for a handhold, because there are more hands to hold than you might think. You will survive, and your daughter will do just fine. Better than fine. She will become a beautiful, happy, sweet, funny, curious, affectionate little girl who is a pure delight to be around and you won't be able to imagine your life without her. And you will love being her mom.

love, Courtney

p.s. Lorelei is a terrible sleeper. Just warning you.

reason #4875 the mommy wars are ridiculous

blah blah blah TIME magazine cover blah blah blah. Haven't we had enough already? Why do we continue to allow the media to bait us into this tired old cat fight? Instead, how about taking a moment to admire my daughter, shrieking joyfully at a robin nearby, in a dress that used to be mine 30 years ago:

Ahhh, that's better.

I could write paragraph after paragraph after paragraph about my feelings on the dreaded mommy wars, but here's a brief argument I'd like to hear more people making:

As I've told you before, I'm an ESTJ and a One. I'm a natural teacher, organizer, and administrator as a result.  I need organization, order, and routine in order to thrive -- as well as regular contact with people. I'm incredibly efficient and competent at a lot of things, so I'm your go-to gal to get stuff done right. I get overwhelmed by chaos and disruption to my schedule, and surprises throw me into a tailspin to the point where I can sink into a funk that lasts for hours or days.

A very dear friend of mine is an ESFP and a Seven. She needs spontaneity, change, and excitement. She would be miserable if not surrounded by a wide circle of friends, has no problem bucking a trend or schedule in order to grab a last-minute opportunity even if it means blowing someone or something off, and feels tied down and restless if she doesn't have a calendar bursting with social obligations and new adventures. She is a lover of life in an infectious way -- being around her is uplifting and refreshing.

It doesn't take much to realize that we would be best suited for very different kinds of jobs, living environments, long-term partners or spouses, and life goals.

So why in the world would anyone think that one single parenting philosophy would be best for both of us? Especially when you have the personality of a child to consider, as well?

Think it's time for another mood-lifter:

Happy Friday, all! Tell the mom in your life how much you value her unique style of parenting and get her some chocolate, already!

this week's adventures in motherhood: never enough time.

Most of the people who read this blog know me in real life. (Hi, Mom and Dad.) But for those who don't, I'll let you in on a little secret: I am reeeeeeeeeeeally bad at saying no when people ask me to do things. Part of this stems from an unfortunate character flaw I have wherein I think that, since I know the best way to do everything, I am therefore the best person to ask to complete any task you might have at hand. (I'm working on it, I promise.)

(image)

But I also love to be busy. Choosing to be a stay-at-home mom was not a choice to have a freer schedule in any way. In fact, sometimes I think that if I were still at work, I'd be able to get a little more done during the day because I could use my lunch hour to run errands and not have to spend half of the time wrangling a baby into and out of a car seat.

Case in point: at church on Sunday, I was chatting with our organist after the service and asked him how things were going with the musical he's conducting over at our local high school, where he happens to be the choir director. Ten minutes later, I had agreed to play in the pit orchestra for a six-show run of West Side Story with two days of preparatory practice time (for those not in the know, it's just about the most demanding musical score ever written).

A few weekends ago on the anniversary of Charlotte Bronte's* birthday, Penguin Books Australia tweeted about a Jane Eyre bracelet I was selling in my shop. Since then, I've somehow agreed to a dozen custom orders for similar bracelets, most of which are being sent to some lovely ladies in the land down under -- and did I mention that each bracelet takes me about 10 hours to complete?

(image)

In addition to trying to get our house ready to have two bathrooms remodeled and a dishwasher installed, prepping before company comes for 5 days during which time I have to attend two parties and serve as the liturgist at church, planning a wedding shower for my soon-to-be sister-in-law, trying to decide if we're putting our house on the market, and writing a guest post for a blog I love (Megan, I swear I loved doing this one -- totally not complaining!), I've been schlepping a squirmy baby with me to try to get some other tasks done: renting a storage unit, having my dress altered for the wedding in July ("No, don't touch those pins!"), and the usual trip to three grocery stores since none of them sell all of the things we actually want. We've actually managed to squeeze in playdates, swimming lessons, and our weekly library trip somehow, too.

Oh, and in case I didn't tell you (ha ha -- it's been my major conversation topic lately!), baby girl has been waking up 5-6 times a night so I've been averaging 3 or 4 hours of sleep in between the crying jags.

This sounds like a very long complaint about my life, which it isn't. I started this by saying "I love to be busy," right? And I do. But my "busy as a bee" stamina seems to be a little less than it used to be pre-baby...so I compensate by skipping things like actually doing my hair, eating a lot more sugar than I should to keep my energy levels up, and letting some stuff go that I probably shouldn't. (Hello, giant pile of dirty laundry. Greetings, takeout from Noodles and Panera instead of healthy, home-cooked meals.)

So how do the rest of you do it? I know I'm not the only busy mom out there -- I would love to hear your tips on keeping yourself sane while managing to get it all done, or your ideas for learning how to say no!

*I know I'm missing the umlaut, but blogger refuses to cooperate!

The Shelter of Each Other - Mary Pipher

I was really excited by Joanna's book recommendation from this week's "Motherhood Mondays" post -- any of you read it already? I'm fascinated by the idea of simplifying and slowing down to help your child grow to be more happy, curious, and independent. And it reminded me of a book I've been wanting to tell you about that we received as a "new baby" gift last year from a dear friend.

I had already read (and loved) Reviving Ophelia, so I was thrilled to have another Mary Pipher title to absorb, and I ended up loving this one even more (while Ophelia is incredibly eye-opening, it is also depressing and clinical -- and this book leaves you with a buoyant feeling of hope!). The Shelter of Each Other is a book all about building a strong, loving family in an age when media portrays family relationships as hostile, volatile, and necessarily antagonistic. Pipher shares her experiences as a psychologist and counselor helping struggling families and interweaves those vignettes with tales of her ancestors' experiences as homesteaders on the Nebraska prairies -- lives that seem, at first, to be worlds apart but that have resonances with each other as well. She emphasizes the important role that culture plays in shaping our families and urges us to repair the communities in which we live as a first step towards protecting the sacredness of childhood and healthy family relationships. Our daughter is still very young, but time moves faster than you realize, and I look forward to reading this book again in a few years when some of the suggestions and lessons will be more timely for us than with a little baby.

By the way, Pipher originally published this book in 1997, but I'd recommend reading the updated version that was released in 2008 instead.

If you read it, let me know what you think! And I'd love to hear your suggestions for other great books about parenting and family life.

she's gonna blow!

This is how my daughter drinks from a cup:



I know this video is of her drinking from a straw, but she does the same thing no matter what the vessel form -- straw, sippy cup, regular cup... it's as if she thinks any liquid that comes from a source other than mama is for playing, not for drinking. (She won't take a bottle at all and hasn't since month three).

Mamas, help! I am at my wit's end. I've tried warm breastmilk, cold breastmilk, formula, water, water + juice, straight up juice...nothing. Any tips?

this week's adventures in motherhood: first birthday party planning.

Here's what I have planned for L's first birthday, which is exactly three weeks from today:





{crickets chirping}



Am I excited that she's turning one? Of course! Have I been keeping track of gift ideas for her on Pinterest? Absolutely. Will I be inviting anyone over for cake-smashing, gift-wrap-ripping, and general merry-making? Nope. I even made my husband promise that we would make sure neither of our parents were in town for the big day (granted, this was in part to avoid having too many houseguests and/or having to choose which grandparents got special treatment) so it would be just our little family of three.

When she's old enough to remember birthdays, I will throw her any kind of party she wants and will gladly handle the stress of cooking for a ton of people, coming up with cute favor ideas, and cleaning up the giant mess afterwards. But the first birthday is really for the parents mom. And this mom wants a quiet evening at home with our photo albums, a glass of good wine, and some alone time with my memories of the hardest and most wonderful year ever.

three things you should know.

1. Thanks so much for indulging me this week with my "posts" that have mostly pointed you elsewhere. I'm not caught up on sleep or anything else, but it helped to have a week "off" from blogging. I promise to get around to your blogs again soon so I can be back in the loop on your lives, too!

2. A member of my moms' group shared this on Facebook, and I wanted to share it with you because it has a little bit to do with my post about the motherhood "debate" and a lot to do with my feelings of inadequacy and overwhelmed-ness lately. Hope it strikes a chord with you, too.

3. In just a few short days, one of my favorite blog babies will be turning ONE -- a huge milestone! I'm sure you're all following Liam and Amber already, but in case you missed it, Amber's sponsoring a giveaway in honor of the big day. The book she's offering up looks fantastic -- stop over to help her celebrate!

See you Monday morning with a slightly modified version of my regular mixtape...

adventures in motherhood: working girl.

Whether or not you get a paycheck for what you do, I think we can agree that we are all working moms in some form or other, because raising children is serious work. Even most traditional "stay at home moms" seem to have something going on the side in addition -- grad school classes at night, an Etsy shop, looking after someone else's little one, or putting something out there in the blog world. We're all busy, we're all tired, we're all in need of a little "me time" and some appreciation for what we do 'round here.

(image)

From all sides of a multifaceted "debate" (we're all in this together, though, right?), here are a few mom perspectives to check out:

Amber's guilty conscience about her working life and setting priorities
Michelle's thoughts on the isolation of being a SAHM
PJ's big decision on reducing her hours at work
D's reasons for quitting her job
A multi-part series on juggling work and motherhood featuring some bloggers you probably know and love
An Offbeat Mama post that really struck a chord with me
Liz Gumbinner on the myth of the rich, selfish working mom

grouchy mama.

Dear stay-at-home moms who live a few minutes from grandma and have a housekeeper and a part-time nanny and whose babies sleep through the night and take great naps during the day,

What do you do with all of your free time? I'm very curious to know.

As for me, I'll be trying to fit in some Etsy shop work time once my overly tired baby finally goes down for a nap instead of screaming her head off in the nursery, then washing a counter-full of dishes since we don't have a dishwasher (wouldn't that be nice, too?). Maybe I'll sneak in washing several loads of laundry, scrubbing the bathroom, or dusting (when was the last time I did that? Was it 2011?) if I have the energy, which isn't likely since I was up every hour last night. And then I guess I'll drag my darling daughter along to do the grocery shopping when she wakes up, since it won't get done otherwise.

Okay, done with my bitter tirade. Here's a happy picture to brighten my spirits and yours:

Yep, still love those two even in my cranky sleep-deprived state.

Here's to a relaxing weekend for all of us!

adventures in motherhood: true confessions.

Okay, I admit it: sometimes, I'm not the mother I always hoped I'd be.

(lest you think you need to call the authorities, my husband staged this photo shoot as part of a thank you to a friend who sent us a Willie Nelson baby CD. For the record, I haven't even had a cup of regular coffee since I got pregnant and/or during breastfeeding -- let alone allowing our daughter to ingest alcohol!)

To wit:

1. I never put our baby in pajamas because it takes too much time to fiddle with buttons, snaps, and zippers in the night. I put her in a sleepsack and figure she's probably warm/comfortable enough. Also, I sometimes don't bother changing her diaper in the night because, well, if she would sleep through instead of waking up so much, I wouldn't be worried about it, right?

2. I fed her pizza last night because I didn't feel like making anything baby appropriate. Sometimes, when she turns up her nose at what I'm offering, I give her baby cheetos.

3. Besides putting up a gate at the top of our basement stairs, I haven't babyproofed the house. Since she can't reach doorknobs yet, I just shut doors and hope for the best.

4. L is so obsessed with taking people's glasses that I bought her a fake pair at Target to play with and pull off our faces. As a result, within five minutes of seeing her grandma, she broke one of the arms of her glasses right off.

5. Pacifiers. Never ever ever thought I'd use one. Now my daughter is so obsessed with hers that she tries to sneak into her room to find them in her crib. We go into her room dozens of times a night to replace it when it falls out. I only allow her to use them when sleeping or in her car seat (which she hates with a fiery passion), but still...

How about you? What are your dirty little parenting secrets?

adventures in motherhood: loveys.

Meet Miss Bunny.

She and an old silky nightgown of my mom's (named Cuddle, if you must know) were my two "loveys" growing up, though I never knew that word until about this time last year. I couldn't go to sleep without them tucked into bed with me for companionship and comfort. And though she doesn't come to bed with me anymore and is looking pretty old and tired (how many times did I bite her nose off? Poor thing!), she will always have a place of her own somewhere in our house. (My husband's childhood bestie, a stuffed sheep named Rammy, is equally honored here.)

For the first 10 months of her life, our little L has spent the night in a sleepsack with no other blankets, toys, or cuddly comforts whatsoever, thanks to all of the scary warnings about SIDS. Now that she's pretty much past the danger zone, though, I'm curious: how do you introduce a lovey to a child? Our pediatrician recommended that we start giving her something as a comfort at night besides us, so we'd like to find something soon. Plus, this post over at Naptime in Suburbia has made me have loveys on the brain this week.

We have several darling options, all in that head-with-blanket-body style that seems to be popular at the moment: a frog with a silky layer for baby fingers to stroke, a cuddly lion, and an owl from a German toy company with big eyes L likes to poke. Baby girl loves her pacifiers more than life itself, so I've also thought about trying one of these.

So far, though, she doesn't seem to have a particular preference for anything -- and when we put one in bed with her at night, she either plays with it (which keeps her awake) or throws it away from her in frustration. Do we have to wait until she chooses one of her own? And how does that happen, exactly?

Tell me about your lovey experiences -- your own or your child's! Inquiring minds want to know.

wordy Wednesday: favorite book series for kids

Didn't you just love reading book series as a kid? There's nothing better, for a young bookworm, than finding out that the end of a book is not, in fact, the end of your experience with those characters. I burned through The Boxcar Children, Nancy Drew, and The Babysitter's Club. I fell in love Madeleine L'Engle's Wrinkle in Time books (not to mention the Austin family series), Anne Shirley and Gilbert Blythe, and with the Alice series. I even read some Trixie Beldens (not as many as Beth, though!) and spent lots of time with Agent Arthur on road trips.

But my favorite series as a kid? The Betsy Tacy books.

(image)

Set at the turn of the century in Deep Valley, a fictionalized version of Mankato, MN, these stories are loosely based on the life of author Maud Hart Lovelace. The main character, Betsy Ray, is a lively, creative little girl (and, eventually, young woman) who has a stubborn streak and a penchant for the dramatic, not unlike Jo from Little Women. She has two very dear friends -- Tacy (short for Anastacia), a shy little redhead from a big Irish family, and Tib (short for Thelma), a spunky German-American girl -- who accompany her on most of her adventures throughout the books, which follow Betsy from age 5 to her mid-twenties.

(image)

One of the best features of these books is that they grow up along with the characters and the reader; the difficulty of the text increases with each novel, which makes them age-appropriate at every level. As a result, Betsy's exploits always feel relatable to the reader, from making up fanciful stories and fighting over who gets to be the May queen in the early books to cramming for exams, falling in love, and taking a trip around the world by cruise ship in the later stories.

(image)

Lovelace's books were originally published in the 1940s, and I just adore the illustrations that accompanied those versions of the series. They were reissued in the 1970s and again in the 1990s, and though the new look perhaps appeals to a more modern audience in some respects, I think you can't get much better than those lovely first covers.

(image -- and you have to read the accompanying article!)

If you'd like to read an excerpt or two from these darling books, here's one from an early book when the three girls are so excited to turn ten years old ("It's the beginning of growing up!") and another from Betsy's high school days when she learns her lesson about helping some fellow students who slacked off on their summer reading assignment (guess that happened in 1910 as well as in 2010!).

Though I'm all for letting kids read what they want, these are the kinds of stories I hope my daughter and I will read together one day -- sweet, wholesome, imaginative, fun.

Anyone else a Betsy-Tacy fan? I'd love to reminisce with you! Or tell me about your favorite book series growing up (did you read these? I want to do a post about them, too!).

adventures in motherhood: how close are you to your parents?

Do you live close to your parents? Are you happy about it?

My mom and dad live a 6-7 hour drive north of here -- and my in-laws live almost 3 hours away by plane. Some days, the distance is a relief; we all have a blast when we're together and then have a comfortable space between us so no one feels pressured or overwhelmed or like they need to justify their parenting choices. It allows us to all be on our best behavior when we see each other which makes our relationships more stress-free.

But other days? I am jealous of the moms I know who can drop their toddlers off at grandma's house for the weekend and have some one-on-one time with their husbands, who can make a quick call if a doctor's appointment gets changed and have a free babysitter there in half an hour. I'm also a little bit melancholy when I think about how other grandparents get to see their grandchildren so much more often -- time can really feel like it is rushing by sometimes.

So weekends like this past one feel special.

            

My mom could only stay for a few days, and my dad couldn't make it at all this time, but it was lovely to have an extra pair of hands for dishwashing, baby bouncing, swing pushing, and cookie making. It's also lovely to see my relationship with my mom change and deepen now that we can share this bond of parenting together, which makes it bittersweet when she has to drive back home.

Whether or not you have kids, how do you feel about living close to -- or far away from -- your family?

p.s. my becoming our parents series, where five amazing women shared their feelings about their upbringing!