Eating

S and I are not picky eaters, but we have a picky eater in X. I recently began to wonder if his pickiness is indicative of other issues or allergies, but nothing is so pronounced that it warrants further investigation...yet. He has his favorite foods and depending on his mood may or may not (usually not) eat the other foods we put in front of him. He goes through spurts...for a while he got excited about carrots and broccoli, now he won't eat them. I've been able to get him to eat salad (lettuce and dressing) recently, and that's currently the extent of his vegetable eating. The funny thing about all of this is when we ask how he's eating at day care, and they say "He eats everything!". They do recognize that he tends to be picky and depending on the day may want to eat all the bread and apples, but no beef stew, for example, but for the most part, they don't seem to have the same struggle that we have. Dinner time for us generally ends with X not eating much. We give him what we are eating, and I tend to deconstruct the meal so that he isn't overwhelmed by mixing, but more often than not (unless it's spaghetti, mac n' cheese, or cheese pizza), he brings a full plate back to the sink. Sometimes we can encourage him to taste what's on his plate, and occasionally he'll get super excited about it and gobble it up (lamb tikka masala for example). More often than not, he'll take the teeniest bite, make a face, and that's the end of it.

I worry that we aren't doing enough, and I my view is colored by friends who have kids who eat everything that's handed to them vs. friends whose kids have obvious sensory and eating issues. X is neither. So, I suppose that he's the kid who falls under "typical?"

Recently we began feeding Baby Z some rice cereal as he's been inhaling 36oz of formula a day and for the most part barely going 3 hours in between feedings. It's a bit early to start solids, but we'll stick to the bland, easy to digest rice cereal for a few weeks. I watched both videos we took on their first cereal feedings and the difference between the two is stark. The first time that X was fed rice cereal, he wouldn't open his mouth. The first time I fed Baby Z rice cereal, he was curious and willing to eat, playing with it, smiling, and trying to grab hold of the spoon.

There was a hilarious incident one Fall day when X and his cousin found ripe tomatoes still on the vine. They both picked two, sat down on chairs facing each other and bit into tomatoes at the same time. She ate hers with gusto, X spit his bite out. But he tried it! Maybe X will learn from Z?

Do I Live in a Parenting Bubble?

While I empathize and jump into the fray of mommy-wars with comments every now and then, I have to admit, I have never encountered negative reactions to how I feed my kids or discipline my kids (although the lady trying to 'help' while X threw a massive tantrum because I left him in ski boots for too long can suck it.)

I didn't want to try to bf as an adoptive mom for several reasons. One, it takes a long ass time to get that milk going. What was I going to do, pump for a year and half while we waited for a match? Two, the process of inducing lactation often includes pharmaceutical drugs to try to trick your body into thinking it's pregnant. Hell no. I've messed with my hormones quite enough thank you. Three, I wouldn't produce enough milk to exclusively bf, and would end up supplementing with formula anyway. Four, my body already failed me in a spectacular way, and I didn't want to find out if it would fail me once again. That being said, yes, I stuck both babies on a boob out of curiosity. It was awkward and weird, and neither one of them showed any interest. It was probably awkward because while I see bf'ing as the go to feeding source for a baby birthed by that woman, I have a bit of a mental block against bf'ing someone else's baby. Logically, I know that the concept of wet nursing has been around for ever, but emotionally, it was too much of a leap for me. 

Maybe I turn the blinders on when out in public, but I have never encountered someone who just walked up to me and told me I was feeding my baby poison or some such nonsense. I pull the bottle out, take out my little container of formula, blithely mix it together, stick the bottle into baby's mouth and voila, he's fed. I sometimes glance around to see if I'm getting any side-eye, but I have yet to catch any. I consider myself lucky, and admitedly surround myself with like-minded people. I have noticed some differences between parenting styles among my friends and family (obviously, we are all different people), but that's to be expected. For the most part, there aren't glaring differences and in discussions I've never felt like someone was judging how I parent. Perhaps that changes when the kids start going to elementary school? Guess I'll find out in a year and a half.

Ok, now that was just crazy. In a year and a half X will be going to kindergarten. Wow.

Holiday Blues and Joys and Blues and Joys

I don't know if it's getting older, infertility, adoption, family issues or what, but every year the holidays seem to become more difficult to endure. S and I decided not to go to the one Christmas party we were invited to because the ex-friend who pretends like I no longer exist was going. I was able to endure her a couple months ago at another party, but for some reason, in this season of forgiveness (ha), celebration and togetherness, I couldn't face yet another night of our careful dance around each other.

Barreling down a different path to parenthood punctured by immense grief and tough decisions has changed us. It's a path that was a true test of our willingness to work together, grow together and fight through the sh*t that was thrown our way. There has been an immense amount of sh*t. One of my friends who is facing her own difficulties with parenting a child outside of the norm stated that she feels like she shouldn't be so upset because other people face worse issues. I maintain that the worst thing you've ever been through is the worst thing you've ever been through. We have to give ourselves permission to feel bad, angry and sad over the worst things we've been through. Comparing ourselves to others who have it worse doesn't make us feel better. It makes us feel like we shouldn't be feeling what we're feeling.

Don't get me wrong, I love that I now have two kids to celebrate the holidays with. I love that this family building journey is almost over for us, and that we can start planning for vacations again instead of squirrling away our money to pay for the services associated with adoption. I love that I can take my kids to see San.ta, play in the snow and see X's super excited face on Chri.stmas morning. All of that is joy. Finally, there's joy where there once was indifference.

The joy is tempered by our experiences in getting here. It's also tempered by the reality of parenting two kids. This is my third week on maternity leave and all I feel is that I'm still behind. I thought this would be my holiday season to finally bake just for fun, calories be damned, yet I've barely managed to make sure I have sugar cookie ingredients for San.ta's cookies.

Yet, Chris.tmas is almost here whether I'm ready or not. Whether I've done all the preparations and activities I wanted to do or not. Whether my relationship with my parents is good or not. 

The focus now shifts to letting go of my expectations and just enjoying my family. 

MY. FAMILY.

I can do that.

Bedtime Battles - A Reprieve or Fixed?

Since I wrote this post, we have been consistently following through on these steps:

• Gradual separation. Sit in X's room after reading him books, without talking to him, just being there until he is close to falling asleep. If he wakes up when leaving  the room, assure him that I'll be staying upstairs.
• When he stays in his bed, slip a little treat under his pillow (hot wheels car, silly putty, that kind of stuff) and tell him the Sleep Fairy came and rewarded him for staying in his bed.
• As that becomes routine, start leaving his room earlier, when he's more awake, and keep up the Sleep Fairy visits.
• When he sleeps in his bed through the night, take him shopping for a toy of his choosing (within a budget, but pretty big)

With full knowledge that regression happens all the time, I'm happy to report that X has gone to bed willingly and stayed in his bed all night two nights in a row. Instead of shopping for a toy, I took him to breakfast to celebrate the first time he slept all night. The second night that he slept through the night, he bounded into our room in the morning asking if we were going to the pancake store again. uh...

There have been steps forward, steps backward, a couple of middle of the night tantrums when S put X back into his bed, and I had a more difficult time with the gradual separation as X sees me as the pushover. But, we stuck to the script and slowly but surely, it's been getting better, easier and faster to get him down for the night.

The Sleep Fairy left gifts when he would stay in his room and not fuss about us leaving. Then the Sleep Fairy stopped coming for a while when that became routine, but he was still getting up two or three times after we put him down for bed. You know, you leave the room, 20 minutes later he comes out for water, you put him back, 10 minutes later it's "I need something...." and so on. On nights that he stayed in his room after we left, the Sleep Fairy started leaving gifts again. This still included him getting up around 1 or 2am and coming into our room, which then meant that S would have to get up and put him back to bed. It's only been two nights so far that X has slept through the night without coming into our room, so it remains to be seen if it's a fluke or real progress. The Sleep Fairy will continue to leave gifts until the end of the week and then if he's stayed in his bed for several days in a row, the Sleep Fairy will leave a bigger gift. After that, the Sleep Fairy will retire to a sunny beach.

#flipthescript Makes Me Think

I’ve been following #flipthescript on Twitter these past weeks. It’s been eye-opening and uncomfortable knowing my kids’ stories. When we were placed with X, it was a time of learning but not fully understanding the implications for first-parents and adoptees. I believe 100 percent that X would have been placed for adoption whether we were in the picture or not. At play in his story are deep seated cultural values, a minor, and an unsupportive family environment. C didn’t want to place him. We know this. We do what we can to support her emotionally, although sometimes I wonder if it’s enough. Because our wish is to keep communication open between them, and to openly acknowledge her place as X’s mother, S and I have discussions around this at intervals.  If X was old enough to grasp the situation, what would he want to do? He doesn’t have a voice yet, and doesn’t even understand the concept of adoption. So, as his parents, what do we do to ensure the communication stays open, yet keep boundaries, because we are X’ parents, we are not C’s parents?

Z’s story is vastly different from X’s story, and I don’t know if we will be in an open adoption in the future. I like to think of it as an open-door adoption, to take a page from Lori’s book. J doesn’t want contact, but she wants letters and pictures. So, we will keep up letters and pictures through the agency, always providing contact information in them. Keeping our door open for the day she may decide she wants to meet A. The good thing about hospital placements, is that despite the whole “anonymity” thing, we have her last name. You can’t redact everything! So, we will keep that, for the future when A may want to search.

I realize that my own quasi-adoption story is one that many people would not recognize as adoption. After all, my mother was with me throughout, and I was not taken from my family of origin. So, yes, it’s absolutely different and I don’t understand the adoptee who was taken from their family, placed in another family and grew up always wondering where they fit. I know where I fit. I know the maternal half of my biological family and extended family. What I can understand is the feeling of helplessness when it comes to my own story. I understand the feeling of being told to “just be grateful” when I tried to express my emotions around not knowing anything about my biological father. Sound familiar? I understand the secrecy that feels wrong, because I am the one affected, yet I can’t talk about it. I understand the damage that’s done to a child’s psyche and how that affects the child as an adult when parents refuse to acknowledge feelings or talk about this big huge thing that happened to them. I did not have a say when my stepfather adopted me and my brother. I may have been asked if it was ok, but I was a teenager, compliant, and knew that whatever I said wouldn’t matter. I hadn’t yet found my voice in regards to my family situation, so why would I care?   I am finding my voice now. I obtained my original birth certificate, because I too have a fake one. For me, this is more about owning the facts. I don’t necessarily need to find my biological father’s family, but I have name and age information if I want to. My mother has some contact information, but as is her way, she said she was going to give it to me and my brother and then never followed through.

Now that I’m an adoptive parent, I can draw from my own experiences of being shut down and vow to never shut down my kids. I can learn from adoptees and first-parents whose voices should be just as loud as adoptive parents and who need to be heard. I can advocate on behalf of my kids and teach them the tools to advocate for themselves. I can help them find their voice as they grow. I can normalize adoption as a thing that happened to them, a thing that may define them, or may not. If it defines them and they need to speak out on adoption someday, then it’s up to me to put aside my own emotions and recognize that what they speak out about may not reflect on me as a parent. Or maybe it does. Because raising a child who feels empowered to speak their mind is my goal. The secrecy stops with me. No more secrets. No more lies. No more quashing.

Hanging On and Counting Down

Working full-time before taking maternity leave is hard. Really, really hard. For the last 10 weeks or so, all I've wanted to do is be home taking care of Baby Z and instead I've been at work and traveling.   My head is not in the work game, and it's a struggle to get everything anything finished. The outstanding work projects will be complete by the time I leave, and I'll be able to breathe again.

In the time that I'm off of work, we should finalize Baby Z's adoption. In Col.orado there's a 6 month period after placement before finalization, although termination of parental rights tends to happen about a week after placement or the baby is born and an adoption plan is being made. I haven't blogged about what's been going on, because termination of parental rights has not been signed by the judge and we are not sure the direction this saga is taking. Based on everything we've heard from the agency, we really don't have cause for worry. There has been one court date, and now there's another scheduled in a few weeks. Hopefully at this court date, the question will be resolved and we can move forward with finalization. If it gets dragged out some more, I suppose we could be looking at delayed finalization. While I'm not worried about the ultimate outcome, it's forefront on my mind that there's a loose end. If the ultimate outcome is something other than what we think should happen, it'll be the stuff of soap-opera plots.

My writing and this blog is in transition. Now that we're hopefully done with family-building, I suppose I'll be transitioning from run of the mill mad as hell infertile turned adoptive mom to adoptive mom raising kids. The thing is, I don't feel like a mommy-blogger. I feel hamstrung by the need to protect certain stories, even if they affect me, and I don't know how to approach it all. There's plenty of drama happening around me, but it isn't necessarily happening to me, so I'm not sure what to share. I doubt you want to read more ranting about my struggle being the golden-child only daughter of a narcissistic mother and enabling father. But, you might get that, if I can ever write it down coherently that is.

Bedtime Battles

I can't remember the days when X would put on his pjs, let us brush his teeth, snuggle in for two books, then happily get tucked in to his bed. S and I take turns putting him to bed, alternating nights and it's pretty sad that both of us practically throw confetti when we get the night off. Although, most of the time we end up having to tag team to relieve the other when it's getting out of hand.

These days, he's a little mouthy about getting his pjs on, but will. He does like to brush his teeth and even lets me floss his teeth, which is a new development with his latest dental check-up. That's an adventure in itself. Anyway, then he happily chooses, two books, we read said books with the Sleep Sheep on, light turned down, and then he happily snuggles into bed letting me tuck him in and drifts off to dreamland states he wants to sleep in Mommy and Daddy's bed. Then he needs water. Then he doesn't want to stay in his room. Then he's panicked that I'll go downstairs. Next thing I know, I'm frustrated, have put him back in his bed 20 times kicking and screaming that he hates his bed, and now he's throwing his toys all over his room calling me a Meany Poopy Head.

The whole routine starts at about 7:45pm and lasts until 9:00pm when he finally passes out from exhaustion. Somewhere around 12:30-1:00am, X will wake up and climb into our bed. We are too tired to put him back, and the one time S tried, it started a temper tantrum that lasted until about 2:00am, so it's really not worth it if we want to get any sleep.

I'm embarrassed to say it, but more than once I've lost my sh*t when I can't take anymore and have yelled at him to GO TO BED. Uh, that doesn't work. Now, normally, S can tell when I've been upstairs too long and he hears the banging and kicking and yelling by X soon enough to come upstairs and relieve me before I blow a gasket, but the fact remains that I have a short fuse, and I have trouble controlling it when stressed. Some nights I'm ok with dealing with it, but it's those nights when I have 5 other tasks to complete before I get to go to bed and the longer X fights going to sleep, the less likely it is that I'll get anything done, and before I know it the entire house is falling apart and I'm way behind on life. I know that's not X's problem, it's my problem, but it is so f-cking frustrating to see an obviously tired kid fighting sleep.

Techniques we have tried and failed:

•  Putting him back in his bed every time he gets up. Telling him I'm going to put him back in his bed every time he gets out of bed, and at some point in the process I stop talking to him and keep putting him back. That's been fairly consistent for most of this year and has yet to work. He thinks it's a game. I get sick of putting him back to bed 25-50 times, and it's usually when I reach my boiling point.
• Giving him a book to read or telling him he doesn't have to sleep if he isn't tired, but that he has to stay in his room. We can't lock his door, and I worry about him yanking off a 75 year old door knob that is already wobbly, so it's not really an option.
• Holding the door closed and talking to him through the door, telling him that it's time for bed and if he can't stay in his room I'll hold the door closed until he can. He throws trucks at the door instead.
• Telling him we will stay upstairs in the living room, but he needs to stay in his bed.
• Using a responsibility chart. If he gets all the responsibilities done for 2 days in a row, he gets a special treat. I don't think he's old enough for that yet, because he doesn't seem to grasp cause and effect unless it's immediate effect.
• Flat out bribery. If you stay in your bed tonight, you can have a special treat tomorrow. That one has never worked.
• Laying down with him in his bed (which is a crib converted to toddler bed, ow). He won't fall asleep, just when I think he's asleep and I move to get up, he's up in a flash.
• Blankie/Sleep Sheep/stuffed animals/light on but dimmed....nope
• Earning  - One night he had a 2 hour tantrum in which he threw every single toy he could find at me or out his door. We picked up all the toys and hid them, then told him he could earn them back by going to bed when it was time to go to bed. About a month later, he seemed to turn the corner and earned back the toys. He's since regressed. So...
• Taking something away - S recently threatened to throw away the Halloween candy. He even took one piece of candy out of X's bag and put it in a plastic grocery (trash) bag. Well, that had the opposite effect as you can well imagine. S later admitted he knew it wasn't going to work, and he did it out of frustration. I was in the middle of feeding Baby Z, watching the whole thing go down and seriously had to fight the giggles. I knew exactly where it was going. Of course, it added an extra 15 minutes or so of reassurance that the entire bag of candy was not going to be thrown away and Daddy was frustrated and just wants X to go to sleep so he can be ready for school tomorrow, yada yada yada.

Where we are after Candy-gate:

We dragged out Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child , which has been useful in the past, especially as an infant. I read the 2-year old/toddler chapter last year, but it really didn't work (that putting back to bed without talking thing was supposed to be the best way, but it obviously didn't work for X). For pre-schoolers, it seems to shift to more of an anxiety issue. It's fairly obvious with X that he thinks he's missing out on something fun when he goes to sleep before we do. He also doesn't want us to leave his room, so there's some separation anxiety going on too. One of the things we realized as well, is that in trying to find something that works, we've been pretty inconsistent. His getting ready for bedtime routine is consistent, but how we deal with him after that is where we've had trouble. We don't seem to stick with one technique for very long before trying another. It's a desperate attempt to find the magic technique, and we probably haven't given the ones that could work enough time to work.

New techniques we'll try  (and stick to) over the next several weeks:

• Gradual separation. Sit in X's room after reading him books, without talking to him, just being there until he is close to falling asleep. If he wakes up when leaving  the room, assure him that I'll be staying upstairs.
• When he stays in his bed, slip a little treat under his pillow (hot wheels car, silly putty, that kind of stuff) and tell him the Sleep Fairy came and rewarded him for staying in his bed.
• As that becomes routine, start leaving his room earlier, when he's more awake, and keep up the Sleep Fairy visits.
• When he sleeps in his bed through the night, take him shopping for a toy of his choosing (within a budget, but pretty big)

I hope to accomplish a few things by switching to this technique. First, I think S and I need to set a routine that we know we have to stick to, and get over the idea that we can put him down in 20 minutes then be done with it. Part of our problem is that I think both of us are frustrated that it's taking the entire evening to get him to sleep and there's yelling/throwing/name calling going on. If we slow it all down, accept that we might have to sit in his room for an hour, then hopefully the entire bedtime routine will calm down. Now, I feel myself gearing up for battle the second we tell X to put on his pjs and it's super stressful. Second, X is obsessed with having his overhead light on. I've tried switching him to a starry night glow pet, and that failed miserably. I tried a little LED clip on reading light to give a little bit of light, and that failed miserably. If we're staying in his room, we can work on turning off instead of dimming the overhead light and get that darkness cue to seep into his consciousness. I'm still planning on using a nightlight, but that's got to be better. And hopefully, this also takes care of the getting up in the middle of the night and coming to our bed issue. We aren't going to do anything about that while we work on the initial bedtime routine and wait to see if that happens to correct itself as we get X comfortable with his room.

Obviously, much of the success lies with us being consistent and letting go any pretense of getting dishes washed, picking up the house, or relaxing much before we have to go to bed. 

When Being a Professional Working Mom Sucks

In the midst of all the newborn craziness and my ambivalence about work right now comes an opportunity for a promotion. One of the manager positions is opening up in my organization, and my goal is to hold one of those positions. I'm at a point in my career here that I am qualified and would be short listed. On the flip side, there's a couple of golden boys around these parts who probably have a better shot at it than I do, and there are other more experienced players as well. From where I sit, my chances are pretty slim, but not crazy.

Horrible timing. I'm in a newborn-preschooler haze of less sleep, stress over on-going family issues, and trying to wrap up work for my upcoming leave. Not to mention, that my upcoming FMLA leave will not sit well with the selection committee (or the outgoing manager) and I'm not going to give that up. I'm not applying for the job.

Meanwhile, Golden Boy #1 has a wife who is due with baby in a couple of weeks who already quit her job to stay home full time. He doesn't have to worry about grocery shopping or cleaning or shuffling baby around town or when he gets to go to the gym. She's home full time and she will (presumably) be taking care of 100% of the household stuff. 

In contrast, I work full time, and I shoulder the lion's share of the household planning. As equal as S and I are, there's still an imbalance. I plan better and I'm more responsive to invitations, so naturally, I'm the social coordinator. I plan better, so naturally, I order groceries and figure out meal plans (Door to Door Organics and The Fresh 20 save me lots of time but I still have to do it). We share cooking for the most part, which works well when there is a recipe and the ingredients already there. We have a cleaning service, but they only come once a month. So at some point, we need to clean or it's just gross. Those chores we split, so that's nice. S takes care of bills and does the laundry 100% of the time. I love that! Child care-wise, it's split 50-50. We alternate putting X to bed (or attempting, ugh, 3 is special isn't it?). In the evening I do Baby Z's feedings and hold him a lot because I haven't seen him all day. (read, not much is getting done at night)

It seems equal when I write it out, but it doesn't feel equal. Probably because the planning I keep track of is constant. Delivery of milk, delivery of groceries (different companies because one company likes to deliver to us at 10am when we're gone and I'm afraid the milk will spoil). Shop for the groceries I can't get delivered if I need to. Figure out what has to be ordered for the meal plan that week, keep track of social engagements, make social engagements, RSVP to 3-yo bday parties, buy the household items, buy clothes (ok, fine that's the fun part), keep the dry-erase calendar up to date, plan, plan, plan.

So, with a newborn, a preschooler and feeling like I'm just barely keeping my head above water, even with S home full-time right now, I'm facing the stoppage of my career advancement.  I'm facing the real possibility that I can't continue working full-time, and that will adversely affect everything from day to day cash flow to my retirement date. In a couple years, X starts school and we can either become a household of stressed parents working full-time, shuttling kids to 2 different locations, and juggling a 6-hour school day with 9-hour work days, or one of us can take a hit. Or, we can both take a hit and reduce both of our days. I really don't feel like I need to work less days per week, just less hours per day. If S and I both worked 32 hours per week, we could shuffle the drop-off pick-up and still have time for things we need/want to do, like exercise. But, if S is going to reduce his hours, he can't chase a job that he's been after for several months. He has to stay where the work is good, but the company sucks. If I reduce my hours, I won't be able to advance, and while that's not a bad thing considering I'm a senior engineer, and many people hang out at this level until retirement, it's a stoppage of my trajectory that the men in my office don't have to face. 

Because I'm a mom and I can't do it all.

Dysfunction

I'm an open and sharing person, sometimes too much, but it's the only way I know how to be.  My mom calls it wearing my heart on my sleeve.  I call it...my life.  So, I've shared some of what I'm dealing with in my family with a couple people I consider friends at work.  Not in gory detail, it's not like I camp in their cubes for hours on end regaling them with the tales of my mom's stupid comments (which I know now are designed to cut me down), but enough so that it's obvious my immediate family relationship kind of sucks.  One colleague, whom I consider a friend, invited us to go camping with him and his wife.  We jumped at the chance to get to know them better, and they had reserved the camp sites so, easy for us!  During the camping trip a short discussion about dysfunction came up.  His family sounds pretty dysfunctional and his wife's family definitely has some serious dysfunction.  During this conversation, my friend stated that he thinks all families are dysfunctional.  I didn't answer (curse of being an introvert, I have to think first), but I don't agree with that statement.  S's family is not what I'd call dysfunctional.  They have quirks for sure, and the quirks can be annoying at times, but they like each other.  They like to take vacations together. I do not like to go on vacation with my family - it's stressful and more often than not turns out not to be fun because I'm on guard the entire time.

I know we all grow up, look at our parents through new lenses and think "Whoa, really?"  But do we all grow up and think that we must be/parent/act differently than those who raised us?  While S would like to parent differently from his parents, it isn't to the same degree as my having to parent in a completely different manner.  I have to look in the mirror and recognize my own narcissistic traits, work on moving past those and not passing them onto my kids.  I struggle to not immediately yell at X when he's being obstinate asserting his independence, and instead try to meet his frustration with empathy.  Especially when X is seriously acting out.  Some days devolve into "JUST GET DRESSED" wrestling his clothes onto him as he's kicking and screaming about my choosing the wrong shirt or shorts.  I get really mad, yell at him, he starts crying and part of me is so frustrated that I just want to put him in the carseat, drive to daycare and not talk to him.  That's something my mom would do.  Instead, I stop myself, explain that I'm frustrated, that's why I'm yelling, then comfort him.  That's something my mother NEVER did.  It doesn't come naturally to me to show empathy when I'm so pissed off that he's being unreasonable (as all toddlers are).  In contrast, S has no problem remaining empathetic when dealing with temper tantrums.  He'll immediately tell X that he (S) is frustrated by his behavior without losing temper.  Don't get me wrong, S is visibly annoyed/upset/frustrated, and admits it, but hardly ever loses his sh*t over X acting out.  So, I'd say, in the empathy department, his parents did a much better job parenting than mine ever did.   And, in that case, I'd say that S does not come from a dysfunctional family.

What do you think "dysfunctional" really means?  Do we throw that term around too much as adults?

The Places You'll Go (Oh Boy)

I'm not sure I've read the entire book "Oh the Places You'll Go" by Dr. Seuss more than twice.  The first time may have been when I was on maternity leave with Baby X.  I have a vague recollection of reading the book and getting a little emotional, but not being in a particularly trigger-able state.

Tonight, X decided that he wanted to read that book.  It hasn't been a good day for me emotionally, but I was happy to be reading a different book for once, since he tends to make us read the same books over and over again.   I know this as a popular graduation gift, something to give a young adult striking out to make their mark in the world.  Because of that, my perception of the book is one of encouragement and success.  It is both of those things, but not before some shit hits the fan.

I got to this part and was ok:

You can get all hung up 
in a prickle-ly perch. 
And your gang will fly on. 
You'll be left in a Lurch. 

You'll come down from the Lurch 
with an unpleasant bump. 
And the chances are, then, 
that you'll be in a Slump. 

And when you're in a Slump, 
you're not in for much fun. 
Un-slumping yourself 
is not easily done. 

And then I got here and reading became difficult:

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked. 
Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked. 
A place you could sprain both you elbow and chin! 
Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in? 
How much can you lose? How much can you win? 

And IF you go in, should you turn left or right... 
or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite? 
Or go around back and sneak in from behind? 
Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find, 
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind. 

You can get so confused 
that you'll start in to race 
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace 
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space, 
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place. 
The Waiting Place... 

Then it all fell apart and I couldn't read anymore:

...for people just waiting. 
Waiting for a train to go 
or a bus to come, or a plane to go 
or the mail to come, or the rain to go 
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow 
or waiting around for a Yes or a No 
or waiting for their hair to grow. 
Everyone is just waiting. 

Waiting for the fish to bite 
or waiting for wind to fly a kite 
or waiting around for Friday night 
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake 
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break 
or a sting of pearls, or a pair of pants 
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance. 
Everyone is just waiting. 

During my breakdown in the middle of reading my child a bedtime story, he looked at me and said "Mommy, read it" a little uncertainly.  He looked uncomfortable and confused; he didn't know what was going on.  His mom just started inexplicably crying in the middle of the usual routine.  But, he leaned against me, and I managed to finish the book with broken voice through the tears. 

I don't know how much an almost-3 year old can understand, but I shared with him that we've tried to bring home two different brothers and it didn't work and it made me sad.  I shared with him that mommy and daddy are stuck in the "Waiting Place" and we don't like it.  I told him we're waiting because we want to have another baby, but that it's hard for us to have babies. 

And then we read the "The Lorax", I tucked him into bed and he went straight to sleep.



hahahahaha in my dreams.  He got up a couple times, begged for water, asked for more smooches and hugs, came downstairs after I left, had to be carried back to bed and tucked in again, thankfully that time he was so tired that he did actually fall asleep.  For now.

I'VE HAD IT

Isn't parenting difficult enough without this ridiculous judgement on how you feed your kid?  More than a few bloggers have addressed the latest study regarding breastfeeding vs. formula feeding.  Personally, I like this take on it, if you are blissfully in the dark.  And, here's what I have to say about it.

Yes, I planned on breastfeeding if I ever got pregnant, but that didn't happen and we started down the adoption path.  Baby X was 2 weeks old when we were placed with him and had never breastfed, which would have made it that much harder to transition, and I was a brand-new parent.  I didn't need any more brand-new parent-stress heaped upon me.  Sure, you can adoptive breastfeed, but I've only met 2 adoptive moms who have done it, and they had to supplement as almost everyone does with induced lactation.  You can also buy breastmilk from a bank, but it costs an arm and a leg (or two legs and a kidney).

My experience notwithstanding, it drives me bananas that I've had friends struggle to breastfeed, who tried all kinds of techniques and drugs and therapies in order to produce more milk and it was an uphill battle.  I know that many women want the attachment experience that comes with breastfeeding, but I also wonder if some of the push to keep going when it's defeating and exhausting and stressful is partially from the enormous sense of guilt that it was a so-called failure.  I argue that keeping your child healthy is not a failure.  Pushing yourself to breastfeed until you have a physical or emotional breakdown is not healthy for anyone in your family.

I am firmly in the camp of "Do whatever makes sense to you", and I leave it at that.  For me, it was kangaroo care, formula feeding, making baby food, and (horrors) relying on jarred baby food some of the time.  For some, it's exclusively breastfeeding until 2 or 3 or 4 or....  For others it's breastfeeding for 2 months and then transitioning to formula because pumping in a work truck when you work as a landscaper is a nightmare.  For others it's a combination of breastfeeding and bottle so that Dad can get some attachment time.

As I write this, I'm realizing that the breastfeeding argument is the same as the work/stay at home argument.  They are the same argument, just different factors.  And instead of women being supportive of one another, we turn catty and bitchy and mean if one of us chooses to do something different.  Why is that?

Why is our self-worth so tied up in the idea that what I do has to be right?

Let's talk about moving up in the workplace.  Lately, there's been more reporting on women who climb the ladders to the top.  The entire time that I was being raised, I was told that I can do whatever I want, I can be whatever I want, I can lead a company.  And then I get out in the work world and find that it's not that easy.  If I tell a construction superintendent he's doing it wrong, I'm a mean bitch.  I used to go on construction sites to do inspections and watch the guys roll their eyes because there was a 5'3" GIRL there to tell them what to do.  I left a company because they told me to my face that I would never be able to work part-time if I wanted to.  I left another company because I knew they weren't paying me nearly enough money for the work that I did.  In fact, when I passed my P.E. exam, they forgot to promote me until I brought it up.  The guy who passed the same exam was immediately promoted and given what he asked for.  When I asked for a measly $3,000 more a year to get my salary up to "average" instead of "below average", they said no.  That's when I decided to look for another job.

The point is, there are roadblocks every step of the way for a woman, put there by men who feel threatened, and put there by other women.  Women slam the women who make CEO of Fortune 500 companies.  Why?  What do we know about how they live their lives, or choose to parent, if they are parents? We get enough pushback from those old graybeards in our fields, and we don't need more from our own sex.  

You know, if you don't like the way a woman is running a company or you don't like her politics, then fine, criticize those aspects of her work.  Women who are assertive and leaders are called bossy.  A man is never called bossy.  A man is a "born leader".  A woman is "bossy".  I see it all the time in my male-dominated field.  Until we as women start supporting each other, and supporting our choices, we will always be stuck.  We can't turn the tide until we are ok with someone making a choice that is different from ours.

Here's what I would love to see as opposed to what I see now:

• Let women formula feed without making a big deal over it
• Let women breastfeed in public without making a big deal over it
• Celebrate these women 
• Celebrate women who go into traditionally male fields
• Celebrate women who stay at home
• Celebrate women who are doing the best they can by working and parenting
• Ban Bossy  Check out the campaign.

p.s.  This is my 500th post.  Go Me!

Parenting While Working

Sometimes I give myself a hard time about not being the kind of mom who is dying to stay at home, but can't.  I love Baby X to pieces, and I'm so happy he's part of our family, but to spend every waking moment tending to his needs?  Fuggetaboutit.

I subscribe to the village concept.  Baby X goes to full-time daycare where they do more activities with him than I would ever dream up.  I am not the best teacher for for kids, and I can recognize that trait in my personality.  He's an outgoing and social kid, and inquisitive about everything around him.  The best thing I can do for him is to seek out the people who really know how to tap into the mind of a 2-year old and fill it with information.  Besides, they are so much more patient than me.

Granted, there are times that I think about working part time, but that would bring career advancement to a halt.  Career advancement is important to me.  I spent a grand total of 8 years in school, and took two 8-hour exams to get to where I am today.  Now that I've finally worked through frustration of practically being forced to become an engineer, and embraced the career path I chose, I'm ready to take it as far as I can.  I have opportunity for advancement, and the shifts that are going on right now in my workplace and in my industry as a whole are positioning me to become a senior-level engineer very quickly.  The Baby Boomers are retiring, and Gen X is taking over.  I'm a young Gen X, but I can see it coming, and I didn't necessarily see that a few years ago when I started my job.

Maybe I'll feel differently when the second baby comes along, and who knows, I may have to pull back on the work in order to juggle it all.  In my ideal world, S would be the one to cut hours, because he's at the point in his career where he's found a role he's content to play and he's not looking to run the company some day.  Which is great for us because if we were both looking to advance, it would probably be harder to navigate what's going to be some major logistical challenges when our family expands.

What's not great for us, is that it's still very much a man's world in the engineering industry, and for him to cut hours would be unusual at his place of work.  They even thought it was weird when he took the 12 weeks of FMLA.  It cracks me up that his company pretends to be family friendly, but in practice they are not.  On the other hand, he's been able to be pretty flexible over the last year without repercussion, so maybe it's working out better than I realize.

I want it all, just like my mom told me I could have it.  I want the full time job with advancement, to stay involved with school activities and sports and whatever other activities my kids go into, I want to ski every other weekend in the winter, I want to teach Jazz.ercise, and I want to have a social life.  Too bad our mothers didn't realize that by instilling the idea that we can do it all, that they were imposing stratospheric expectations and setting us up for failure.

So, I guess the lesson is to change the expectations.  Bring them down from stratosphere to the exosphere, and realize that in every area of life, be it parenting, working or social, something will have to give.  My hope is that instead of completely giving up on one area in order to focus on another area, that we can figure out how to give a little in every area, and be ok with that.

Ranty

Not the reflective New Year’s post you were expecting?  Click away then, because I’m on a roll.

If it isn’t one thing it’s another, it seems.  In the time since  the failed match, two of my friends had babies (making the total 3 babies born to my friends this year).  Sure I knew they were pregnant and had to endure that news last year, but it totally sucks to watch them chatter away about post-partum bodies, pumping, breastfeeding, and newborn stuff.  They don’t even look to me for advice half the time, just increasing their tight knit bond of sameness while I hang on the outside.  I’ve been through all the newborn to toddler stages and I’m still on the fucking outside.

I have to go through a physical for life insurance.  It will essentially be my third physical of the year (one for the homestudy update and a whole lot of poking and prodding at CCRM).  I can practically  quote my levels by heart.  In addition, I didn’t even register until I was on the phone answering questions that I was going to have to take a walk down infertility-memory-lane and try to detail treatments, drugs taken, and procedures done.  Not to mention what treatments and drugs I took trying to get rid of vulvodynia from 2002 to 2005.  That dredged up some feelings.

 Work is kicking my ass up-down-sideways.  That little stunt that Cong.ress pulled way back in October has made this holiday season way more stressful than I needed it to be.  I was in technical meetings 8-hours a day for 8 days straight right before Christmas that left me exhausted and barely able to function.  As a result, everything at home fell apart.  Being the so-called cruise-director  in the relationship sets me up for failure when I get stretched thin.  S either doesn’t pay attention or doesn’t listen, or more likely isn’t paying attention.  Wires keep getting crossed, I’m stressed, I’m angry, he gets angry, shuts down and the cycle perpetuates.   Meanwhile, I feel like I have two kids.

Did I mention that my cousin, who had the gall to call me out as childless on her FB page is pregnant?  I don’t know what her deal is, but I knew weeks ago when I reposted an article that talked about the fraudulent study that lead to the vaccine/autism connection.  Instead of keeping it to herself, she left the only comment “Thanks for posting this”.  My spidey-sense started to tingle.  I told my mom I was pretty sure she was pregnant, and then a few weeks later got a text from said cousin that said “I hear you might be psychic”.  The only good thing she did was text instead of call so that I didn’t feel obligated to actually talk to her and could fake happiness.  Then I cried in the locker room at Jaz.zercise.

My mother is excited about my cousin’s pregnancy and asked me to help plan a shower for her.  Yet another example of insensitivity from dear mom.  (she knows about the “childless incident” not to mention how I feel about said cousin in general, oh and my now 6 year battle  journey to become a parent of 2)

Baby X is in full-on-toddler-nightmare mode.  I knew it was coming, but I was not prepared.  I don’t know who Love and Logic works for, but right now, it’s not working at all in our house.  When we sing the “uh-oh” song and put him in his room, he comes screaming out.  More than once I’ve wanted to lock his door (haven’t, but damn it’s tempting),  and he can climb a baby gate in 2 seconds flat.  More than once I’ve lost my shit while trying to get him dressed in the morning.  He doesn’t want to wear the pants I choose, and he won’t choose pants, which results in a battle of wills.  I get kicked a lot trying to dress him.  Lately, he’s been having a sleep regression due to his blossoming imagination (scared of the dark, and there are 2 monsters residing in our house).  He’s all cuddles and cuteness at bedtime, brushing his teeth, picking out his pjs, reading books, until we try to leave the room.  An hour of screaming, taking turns putting him back in his room, rocking him, trying to calm him down, putting him back in his room, and he’s finally exhausted enough that he passes out.  Meanwhile, it’s after 8pm, my night has been ruined and I’m cranky.

As I write this I’m realizing that it may be Baby X’s developmental leaps that are the biggest contributor to the stress.  S and I are probably reaching a limit in dealing with these latest behaviors.  There’s nothing like feeling like the worst parent in the world because you can’t get your kid dressed in the morning without yelling at him (after several rounds of “choices”).  Not to mention wondering what the hell happened to the cute little boy who snuggled down for two books then calmly let you tuck him in for the night. 

Right now, the thought of adding another baby is terrifying.

MERRY CHRISTMAS (kid-centric)

Merry Christmas to the blogosphere!  I hope that this year brought you good news.  If it didn't, I hope that you were able to persevere through the crappy times and find nuggets of goodness here and there.  It hasn't been an easy year for us and we are already toasting to letting this year go.  I will be toasting to the ending of 2013 for another week and have resolved to let myself have fun and do what feels good to get through the holidays.

Meanwhile, here's a nugget of goodness for me.

We continued our tradition of fondue on Christmas Eve, and Baby X enjoyed a pb&j rather than cheese fondue, beef tenderloin and shrimp cooked in broth fondue.  Hey, more for me, right?

After we put him to bed, it was time for Santa to get busy setting up his new train table!  Santa did a bang up job getting the tracks laid out with bridges and loops while S and I lounged around sipping wine.

The morning brought excitement as Baby X discovered his new train set, ate some gingerbread pancakes and took a short walk to the park, then it was off to grandparent Christmas #1 for the afternoon where he was spoiled, as expected.  He isn't entirely sure about presents beyond ripping the paper off, but he knows what to do with clothing.  (Toss at Mom and look for another present to rip and tear)  Bribery is in full swing in our world "If you try on the jacket Grandma bought for you, you can have dessert".  Normally, I look for a way to make him think trying on said jacket is his idea, but after a half-hour battle over getting dressed to go to Grandma's house in the first place, I was a bit worn down.  Damn if he didn't slip that jacket on lickety-split.

We took a short tour to look at impressively lit-up homes, one of which set the light show to music.  And, as we attempt to put Baby X to bed because he's exhausted but doesn't seem to know it, I'm happy that Santa chose the most awesome gift, that we were all together today enjoying good weather, good food and good company.

Website-Taxes-Stuff

Our website is up even though it's not quite finished yet.  Today I spent a fair amount of time cutting our video in half and feel so cool that I did it all by myself.  I've had limited contact with our friend who put it all together, so I just randomly decided to see if he had anything up yet.  It was weird to type in the url and see it come up with our larger than life faces!

Advice for anyone looking to set up a website - if you don't use one of those services (that charges way too much) I suggest looking for a template to buy.  Our guy suggested we buy a template by pr.o pho.to partially because it was used on a website that we really liked and because it's easy to edit.  It wasn't particularly cheap, but it looks awesome, and we'll be able make changes to it ourselves once he gets the initial set-up done.

We are re-submitting the amendment to our 2010 taxes for the credit, along with a letter that may or may not be read before being tossed into the circular file.  After re-reading the rules, there's no doubt in our minds that we qualify and we did right the first time.

The joys of parenting hit hard this week.  S and I had planned to go skiing on Friday until Baby X hardly ate all day Thursday, was lethargic, and developed a fever Thursday night.  Fan-tas-tic.  S stayed home with him on Friday and took him to the pediatrician.  Double ear-infection.  I knew it!  He didn't have super obvious symptoms other than being congested with a cough and runny nose for more than 2 weeks.  He also started waking up in the middle of the night which is unusual for him.  Anyway, some antibiotics and he's much better.  Next time I'll follow my instincts.  I almost took him in on Thursday but thought I was being paranoid (we didn't know about him acting funny at day care until S picked him up as he didn't develop a fever when he was there).  That little stumble cost me a ski day!

Murphy's Law also hit in a big way.  Since Friday was kaput, we decided to go for Sunday.  Thing is, I had to be back in town by 3:30pm and Sundays can be dicey on the drive home.  But, we figured we'd get up there early, leave really early and have plenty of time.  Got my parents lined up to watch Baby X and we were all set.  Until we woke up this morning to a huge snowstorm.  So, after some hemming and hawing I decided not to go because I didn't want to risk getting stuck up there.  Wouldn't ya' know, my afternoon activity got cancelled because of the snow.  Eh, at least there were tasks around the house to get done.  Turns out Baby X likes to sweep...yeeeaaahh.

Snow! (baby-centric)

Well, a brief respite from the annoying warm and dry Fall we've been having.  Naturally, this weekend the temps will dip into the 20's (F) when S is hanging lights.   I guess this storm isn't supposed to be long or even snow that much, but at least it's something.   Hopefully we get enough to play in the snow with Baby X a little bit.  Although, it's going to be so cold I'll probably bundle him up like Ralp.hie's brother.

Have I ever mentioned how tall Baby X is?  At his 15 month appointment he jumped from the 75th percentile to the 92nd percentile, and at his 18 month appointment he jumped to the 94th percentile.  I think it's safe to say that he will be more than 6-feet tall at this point.  S and I are 5'7" and 5'3" respectively.  haha on us.  We knew he was going to be tall, but one of the things we didn't really think of until it started happening was how hard that was going to be on us right now.  He's so tall that he reaches a good foot or so onto the dining room table when he stands on his tippy toes.  He can reach all the buttons and knobs on our little cheapo stereo (so fun when he turns the volume up to 20).  He can reach the tops of the kitchen counters and all the knobs on the stove.  Something we didn't think about when remodeling our kitchen was the implication of buying a range with knobs on the front.  Sure, it looks sleek and sexy but when you have to take the knobs off so your kid doesn't burn down the house, it loses a bit of luster. 

I think we've successfully weaned from the pacifier (it's only been a week).  Once he started looking for it every single day and even protested when I took it away during play time, we figured he was getting too attached and needed to nip it in the bud.  It helps that he doesn't get one at day care, so it was already being reinforced that he can fall asleep without it.  A few weeks after the transition to the bed from the crib, we started putting him to bed without it.  It was pretty easy and he doesn't seem to have missed it much, although he now goes to bed with 2 small security blankets, a dog and occasionally a teddy bear from C.  Watching him walk around with all the stuff in his arms is hysterical.  Inevitably something falls to the ground and he has to figure out how pick it up without dropping the other three things.

The weird thing about the pacifier weaning is that this is probably the most emotional transition I've had.  It was the last vestiges of "baby" that we had.  He doesn't even look like a baby anymore, because he's so tall and lean.  I was really bummed to have to break that habit, even though I don't want the orthodontia bills! Well, really, this has been several weeks of transition from the crib to the bed to getting rid of the pacifier.  Lots going on I guess.  It's hard to remember that at this time last year he was crawling and pulling himself up.  Now he's running and talking a mile a minute.

We are considering foster-adopt, but I don't know if I want to miss all the small baby events.  If we go down that path, we will be pretty strict about what we are comfortable taking on, and will likely be considering a toddler rather than older child.  All the issues that arise from being in a situation that prompts foster care aside, I feel like I might miss the newborn/baby phase.  Something to consider I guess.