Thanksgiving is tomorrow, and I absolutely love this holiday. We got a fresh blanket of snow overnight and I'm already thankful for that; it means the boys will be out playing in it for part of my work day. Snow play is always mood-enhancing to young children. Wholesome. And they are still at the ages where I can make them believe shoveling the snow isn't a chore (although their version of a shoveled driveway resembles a messily-frosted cake when they're done.)
I'm thankful for the deer and pheasants my husband got this week. He spent several hours processing the venison himself- which would have cost well over $100 to do at a meat locker-and while he was packaging cuts of it last night I was busy in the kitchen turning his pheasant stew from the weekend into a pot pie. I'm telling you, if you're going to eat game meat, pot pies are a good bet. So. Y u m m y. And the best part (besides knowing our meat has no antibiotics in it) is that it cost is so little and David got to have fun at his hobby simultaneously.
I'm thankful my son has been slightly better at sleeping lately. Hence the ability to write this morning. He was on strike from naps for a few days and I took to calling him my "never-nap." If you're an AD fan, you'll appreciate that I also pretend he's wearing denim cutoffs during the strike. I also picture a little mustache. But maybe that's taking it too far. Haha.
I'm thankful for coffee. And that Gilmore Girls is on Netflix. And that David scrapes the snow off my car in the morning. And for warm sweaters and my cozy boots. And for the little songs the toddler will sing at work today. And for my job that is like hanging out with my extended family five days a week. And for the family I get to see tomorrow. And for a husband that cooks and even cleans sometimes. And probably for many more things but I'm out of time. I'll just have to ponder that today.
I hope your thanksgiving is wonderful.
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
Friday, November 21, 2014
Perspective
I really enjoy my kid. Well, of course. But let me explain. I work full time as a nanny (to four kids I also enjoy--thankfully!) and so the cleanliness of my apartment is not at the level of probably even a lazy mom who doesn't work outside the home and can devote at least the minimum of her time to cleaning up after herself and her family. I could clean more religiously for sure, but I'd be missing large portions of these precious few days of my baby's babyhood.
It sounds like I'm making excuses to not clean. But honestly I hate clutter. I hate that until Saturday my apartment usually sits in a state of utter chaos. I hate not wanting anyone to see my apartment six days out of the week. But what I realized this year was that I can't have it all; I can have a really clean apartment and miss savoring those little moments with Roger and David in the evenings where we are just a little family of three, or I can have a messy apartment and spend my evenings laughing and talking and snuggling and nursing my happy baby to sleep. I really haven't figured out a way to do both. Maybe I will someday. Maybe that comes when the kid finally sleeps through the night and mommy has energy again.
Motherhood brings me all sorts of new perspective. I mean, there are certain things you just can't learn from a book, or even by being told by someone who's learned it herself. Before Roger was born I was uber-prepared for childbirth. I read books on natural childbirth techniques, diet in pregnancy, breastfeeding guides, etc., and they all really helped me feel like I understood what I had undertaken, and made my labor go really well and helped so much as I began breastfeeding my tiny Biscuit in the hospital. But that's about as far as those books took me. Roger has defied all parenting guides. I don't doubt that most parents would say the same for at least one of their children; no matter what the books say to do to get them to sleep, eat, or behave as you think they ought, they just have a mind of their own.
Pre-motherhood me would have been shocked at six-months-of-motherhood me. I really thought I of all people, the professional nanny who's entire career has been working with babies and kids of all ages and special needs and autism and ADHD, would have had my baby trained like a perfect little puppy by now. Trained to eat on schedule, and take a bottle sometimes, and allow his father to put him to bed at night, and actually sleep in his crib. Hahahaha...HAHAHA...(this laugh is becoming a little maniacal...I'm scaring myself.)
What pre-motherhood me didn't know is how much more I would enjoy life if I just let go of what the books say and just follow my instincts and Roger's cues. When I was so concerned about "doing it right" instead of just going with the flow, I had some really, really, bad nights. Trying to get Roger to go to sleep in his crib and struggling for two+ hours, staying with him while he cried and cried, and then joining him myself and sobbing like a defeated, powerless failure of a mom, until we were both too worn out and just fell asleep together in my bed. The term "accidental parenting" branded me a failure in my own mind as I recalled it from reading "The Baby Whisperer." Mommy guilt on top of sleep-deprivation and mild damage to my eardrums from baby decibels; those nights sucked. And perhaps from sheer exhaustion or weakness of will, I gave up on the idea of sleep-training and decided to let my baby be the sweet little baby he is while he is, and enjoy his precious dependence on me for his every need.
What a difference perspective makes. Roger hasn't become a better sleeper. Worse, even. He wakes up 3-6 times per night needing to nurse in order to be soothed. But I no longer worry about it. It won't last forever. And that makes it precious. He won't always be my baby, as "Love You Forever" has so achingly taught me. He won't always look at me like I am the be-all, end-all of his existence. And so for now, in all it's inconvenience, I still choose to cherish these fleeting moments of his littleness and neediness.
 |
| A picturesque corner of my cluttered apartment, one of the limited places suitable for public appearance. |
It sounds like I'm making excuses to not clean. But honestly I hate clutter. I hate that until Saturday my apartment usually sits in a state of utter chaos. I hate not wanting anyone to see my apartment six days out of the week. But what I realized this year was that I can't have it all; I can have a really clean apartment and miss savoring those little moments with Roger and David in the evenings where we are just a little family of three, or I can have a messy apartment and spend my evenings laughing and talking and snuggling and nursing my happy baby to sleep. I really haven't figured out a way to do both. Maybe I will someday. Maybe that comes when the kid finally sleeps through the night and mommy has energy again.
Motherhood brings me all sorts of new perspective. I mean, there are certain things you just can't learn from a book, or even by being told by someone who's learned it herself. Before Roger was born I was uber-prepared for childbirth. I read books on natural childbirth techniques, diet in pregnancy, breastfeeding guides, etc., and they all really helped me feel like I understood what I had undertaken, and made my labor go really well and helped so much as I began breastfeeding my tiny Biscuit in the hospital. But that's about as far as those books took me. Roger has defied all parenting guides. I don't doubt that most parents would say the same for at least one of their children; no matter what the books say to do to get them to sleep, eat, or behave as you think they ought, they just have a mind of their own.
Pre-motherhood me would have been shocked at six-months-of-motherhood me. I really thought I of all people, the professional nanny who's entire career has been working with babies and kids of all ages and special needs and autism and ADHD, would have had my baby trained like a perfect little puppy by now. Trained to eat on schedule, and take a bottle sometimes, and allow his father to put him to bed at night, and actually sleep in his crib. Hahahaha...HAHAHA...(this laugh is becoming a little maniacal...I'm scaring myself.)
What pre-motherhood me didn't know is how much more I would enjoy life if I just let go of what the books say and just follow my instincts and Roger's cues. When I was so concerned about "doing it right" instead of just going with the flow, I had some really, really, bad nights. Trying to get Roger to go to sleep in his crib and struggling for two+ hours, staying with him while he cried and cried, and then joining him myself and sobbing like a defeated, powerless failure of a mom, until we were both too worn out and just fell asleep together in my bed. The term "accidental parenting" branded me a failure in my own mind as I recalled it from reading "The Baby Whisperer." Mommy guilt on top of sleep-deprivation and mild damage to my eardrums from baby decibels; those nights sucked. And perhaps from sheer exhaustion or weakness of will, I gave up on the idea of sleep-training and decided to let my baby be the sweet little baby he is while he is, and enjoy his precious dependence on me for his every need.
What a difference perspective makes. Roger hasn't become a better sleeper. Worse, even. He wakes up 3-6 times per night needing to nurse in order to be soothed. But I no longer worry about it. It won't last forever. And that makes it precious. He won't always be my baby, as "Love You Forever" has so achingly taught me. He won't always look at me like I am the be-all, end-all of his existence. And so for now, in all it's inconvenience, I still choose to cherish these fleeting moments of his littleness and neediness.
 |
| Milk drunk. That's how we party. |
Thursday, November 20, 2014
Toddler Lingo
I nanny four kids. One of them is a verbally-inclined 2-year-old. He can even pronounce my name correctly. No Wibby or Yibby, just Libby. A sampling of phrases I hear repeatedly throughout my day:
"Where ARE you, Libby?" - usually I'm a foot away but behind his back.
"DON'T! ...Libby." -I love the emphasis on "don't" and pause before my name.
"'doing, Libby?" -he asks what I'm doing whenever I'm doing anything not directly for/with him.
"Pair-dane! Look!" -airplanes make him stop whatever he is doing.
"Monshers. Down-nare." -Yes. There are monsters down there. Go on thinking that, buddy. Then the basement is one less place you will be destroying when I'm preoccupied with the babies.
"Whore! See yat?" -he must not think very highly of squirrels.
"'memer?" -remember?
"One, twooo, fwee, five, seven, eight, nine, eleven, twelve, firteen, foteen, nighteen, eighteen, twuh-ee!"
"Whyyyy?"
"Got it?"
"Where ARE you, Libby?" - usually I'm a foot away but behind his back.
"DON'T! ...Libby." -I love the emphasis on "don't" and pause before my name.
"'doing, Libby?" -he asks what I'm doing whenever I'm doing anything not directly for/with him.
"Pair-dane! Look!" -airplanes make him stop whatever he is doing.
"Monshers. Down-nare." -Yes. There are monsters down there. Go on thinking that, buddy. Then the basement is one less place you will be destroying when I'm preoccupied with the babies.
"Whore! See yat?" -he must not think very highly of squirrels.
"'memer?" -remember?
"One, twooo, fwee, five, seven, eight, nine, eleven, twelve, firteen, foteen, nighteen, eighteen, twuh-ee!"
"Whyyyy?"
"Got it?"
Saturday, November 15, 2014
November Happy
I've loved all the Novembers of my adult life. I think I didn't
appreciate them in childhood because I wanted them to pass quickly into
December for Christmas and my birthday. But now, I savor Novembers.
There is poetry in the air and in the dark gray mornings that have
abruptly replaced the gone-too-soon golden phase of autumn. This gray
and cold season before winter is underrated. It has so much expectation.
Thanksgiving and Christmas and the New Year are separate individual
blips on the radar of a whole season of warmth and peace and white, cold
contrast of outdoors and in. I love November because it is the slow n o w of the holidays that is there to be enjoyed if you choose not to miss
it. And not in a commercial, deck your house out with latest-trend
decor and crank up the Christmas music kind of way, but in a quiet,
appreciative of the good things in life kind of way. Fresh,
quiet snow falling and cuddling in a warm bed with my husband and
my baby on a lazy Saturday kind of way. How wonderful a hot bath feels
kind of way. Baking cookies and leaving the oven door open afterward
kind of way. Lighting candles in the twilight of 5pm. The scent of
roasting pumpkins. The crunch of new snow underfoot. Sweaters. Scarves.
Mittens. Wool socks you forgot about all summer only to receive again
like a present when you open your out-of-season tote to put in your
sandals and shorts. The little snow-suit your baby will wear for only
one season and never again, as he grows so fast and each season is a
unique moment of his short childhood never to be repeated.
I love all of it. I can't understand the complainers and winter-haters. Yes, it is cold. Yes, we live in the Midwest. Yes there is more work in getting ready to go out into the weather and driving is more difficult. But that is life, and life with all its challenges also has its joys and I think I'm better off savoring the joys as I weather the woes, than I would be getting upset about what I cannot change and will have to face anyway (like having to warm up my car every morning before work. But I'm not mentioning that.)
Today is the first true snow where we live. When I woke up with Roger smiling up at his mommy and blowing spit bubbles and raspberries to say good morning, I peaked out our window and was greeted with my favorite kind of snowy day: slow and steady large flakes falling and white everywhere you look. I got so excited, I picked Roger up and said, "Look Biscuit! That's snow! Yaaaaay! Snow! You're gonna love it!" And in that way that babies totally understand emotion even if they don't understand language yet, he leaned toward the window smiling and just looking. I was witnessing my son being enthralled with creation alongside me. I love November. And I hope we can enjoy the season together all the way until our silver white winter melts into spring.
(An aside: Dave is enjoying the first snow in his manly way: he went squirrel hunting before I woke up and came home and fried up his quarry for breakfast. He is now outside shoveling our walk even though snow removal is not our obligation as renters. He just loves it.)
Now off to Pinterest I go to review and add to my winter and holiday themed boards and do some laundry. Maybe have a cookie or two that we baked last night.
If anyone is reading this yet (new blog, but I'll start off with optimistic readership expectations,) what are the things you enjoy about the onset of winter and the holidays? Happy Saturday!
 |
| Yay! (not sarcastic.) |
I love all of it. I can't understand the complainers and winter-haters. Yes, it is cold. Yes, we live in the Midwest. Yes there is more work in getting ready to go out into the weather and driving is more difficult. But that is life, and life with all its challenges also has its joys and I think I'm better off savoring the joys as I weather the woes, than I would be getting upset about what I cannot change and will have to face anyway (like having to warm up my car every morning before work. But I'm not mentioning that.)
 |
| Roger and I in cozy sweaters. Courtesy of webcam/Picasa 1960's filter-- because I have to resort to whatever I can with my other cameras broken, and lost, respectively. |
Today is the first true snow where we live. When I woke up with Roger smiling up at his mommy and blowing spit bubbles and raspberries to say good morning, I peaked out our window and was greeted with my favorite kind of snowy day: slow and steady large flakes falling and white everywhere you look. I got so excited, I picked Roger up and said, "Look Biscuit! That's snow! Yaaaaay! Snow! You're gonna love it!" And in that way that babies totally understand emotion even if they don't understand language yet, he leaned toward the window smiling and just looking. I was witnessing my son being enthralled with creation alongside me. I love November. And I hope we can enjoy the season together all the way until our silver white winter melts into spring.
(An aside: Dave is enjoying the first snow in his manly way: he went squirrel hunting before I woke up and came home and fried up his quarry for breakfast. He is now outside shoveling our walk even though snow removal is not our obligation as renters. He just loves it.)
Now off to Pinterest I go to review and add to my winter and holiday themed boards and do some laundry. Maybe have a cookie or two that we baked last night.
If anyone is reading this yet (new blog, but I'll start off with optimistic readership expectations,) what are the things you enjoy about the onset of winter and the holidays? Happy Saturday!
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