Mom Enough

Well I thought it was time I weigh in with an opinion here. I know you all want to hear my awesome opinion right? Right?

Unless you were living under a rock, you probably know that this was the cover of this week's time magazine.

(I must add that I do apparently live under a rock because I didn't know there was an election this week. My bad. But I know all about this boobie-gate)

It's sparked alot of controversy and here's what I have to say....

-- First off, people who think nursing BABIES in public is gross are akward are ignorant people.

-- I a personally not offended by extended breastfeeding (nursing past the age of 2). It wouldn't gross me out to see it done, but I'm sure that it would some people. People who choose EXBF (like what I did there?), probably experience some strange looks and mostly choose to do it only at home.

-- They probably do not do it with the kid standing on a chair while wearing a sexy outfit. That element of the picture kinda rubbed me the wrong way. Like they are trying to make it look sexy. Which is strange and creepy and just...not appropriate. BF-ing is and act of feeding someone. Why this kid who looks to be Tessa's age isn't drinking out of a big gulp is between the Mom and the family. Nurse, don't nurse, nurse forever, I don't care. Can't we all just get along? But let's keep it real. Nursing an older kid in sexualized fashion is wrong for everybody.

-- I nursed both kids exclusively until about 14 months and wasn't ready to wean either time. Once I weaned because of pregnancy, the other time because of a week long trip to Alaska. If those things hadn't stopped me, who knows how long I may have nursed. I loved it, they loved it. Nursing is a blessing.

-- The article is about Attachment Parenting which is super trendy right now. I guess we fall somewhat into that category since we nursed, did natural birth and are mildly crunchy. The only aspect of AP that I could never get behind was co-sleeping. I like my bed. The kids like their bed and that seems like the way it should be. So we did do sleep training...which I believe is an AP no no. We are also pretty strict discipline-wise and I'm not sure how that lines up with AP principles either.

-- The big rub here is the headline "Are You Mom Enough" and the idea that attached parenting is some feat of super-mommy strength that all women should aspire to. In my opinion, it's simply a lifestyle choice that may NOT be for everyone. Some women can't breastfeed or don't want to. Some people like me can't stand to have little people in their bed. Everyone has strengths and weaknesses and parenting is no different.

-- Everyone has choices to make in this parenting journey and I think that this cover and headline are just adding fuel to the fire of women feeling guilty and inferior. Are we Mom enough? To do what...nurse a 2nd grader while looking fabulous and sexy? I guess not.

I've thought about this and I'm hoping that the Time article was intended to be tongue in cheek....poking a little fun at the extremist and poking a little fun at the entire idea of 'mommy wars'. Because in the end if we are all making the best decisions for our kids and loving them the best we can, then we are indeed MOM ENOUGH.
 

Mother's Day 2012

We mostly celebrated Mother's Day yesterday and today we hung out and rested, which was gift of it's own.

But yesterday we had a big day. Tessa and I got dressed up. I even wore a dress. Try not to be too shocked.I like the new fad with maxi dresses that touch the ground. So much so I now have two of them.

Jeremy presented me with my present basket. What you're looking at here is a bunch of delicious Zum soaps, some Oolong tea and probiotic capsules. Who needs jewelry when you could have good colon health. Man, they've got my number.

We went out to lunch at our favorite Japanese restaurant where we pigged out on sushi. Even picky Charley stuffed his face with California rolls. I was so happy to see him eating fish...another unintentional present.

Then we went to see "Chimpanzee" at the movie theater.. It's one of the documentaries from Disney Earth. It was really good, although Charley got a little bored after a while. Not enough music and flashing lights for his taste. I noted that this was the first time all four of us have seen a movie together (except when we went with Jessie to see the Muppets at Christmas).

After the movie we killed some time at Kohls where I bought another dress, and headed over to the church where the kids do preschool. During the evening church service, they had all the preschool kids sing a Mother's Day song and recite a bible verse. Then we stayed for the service while the kids did Sunday school...or Saturday school?

The pastor had a really good message about Mothers, and the top 4 things you can do to make a lasting impact on your children. It was a little strange to be in a different church but I thought their pastor was really great. I'm awfully glad we don't go to a church that big though. Too big for my taste. They have jumbo-trons!

Tessa did a great job singing. She was so proud of herself for 'keeping her eyes on Miss Linda'...I guess they musta drilled that one. I told her the choir Jeremy and I sang in had the same rule. Look away from the director and you die. Something tells me the preschool teachers are more forgiving.

(This was just the Varsity and All Star classes which is why you don't see Charley. He is Junior Varsity this year...meaning not old enough to memorize a song.) 




See all my homemade loot? From preschool, church, and the preschool church (if that makes sense). Even some flowers from our produce deliverers.

This morning Jeremy sang at church while I worked the nursery, then we all came home and napped and played Rockband. Pretty soon we are going to have some steak for dinner and watch the movie with Dolly Parton and Queen Latifah.

I'm telling you...probiotics, sushi, preschool serenading, and Dolly Parton in the same weekend? Life couldn't be much better.

I sure do love these people.

Feathers Plucked

A friend posted this today on FB and I had just had to re-share. I really like the analogy to the mother duck giving over her fresh feathers for the nests of her little ones. It reminds me to stay motivated in what I do everyday, to keep giving and sacrificing for the sake of my nest.

And I like the quote -- "a mother can either erupt or pluck." Yes. Yes yes yes.

I'm not going to try to take credit for this post. It can be originally found here. This is just one of those times that I WISH I had written and taken photos that well, or that I was a professional blogger that got paid money for my thoughts on life. Alas, no. This is simply pasted in from it's original home. Enjoy...



Houses may be bought, built, or borrowed.

But homes can only be made.
And only with bits of ourselves.

The kids and I sit together close in a house with dishes on the counter and read about painters and artists and look at a flock of ducks, preened and nestled, a painting, oil on canvas.

The children press in close for a better look at the open book, at Alexander Koester’s “Ducks“, and I read aloud the caption under the painting.

“Mother ducks pick feathers from their chests to line their nests.”

I look around at the house. I pause.

And the children gaze thoughtfully at a clutch of plump white, blizzard of feathers fallen down.
But it’s those words that mesmerize me: “Mother ducks pick feathers from their chests, to line their nests.”

I lay my hand on the page, on a duck breast puffed, mother plunging beak in deep, and I say it out loud: “How else did you think nests were lined?”

With leftovers.

That’s what I thought.

With feathers discarded, the molted, the not-so-necessary feathers.

I thought mother ducks picked feathers up from what was laying about, scraps, lining nests with what simply could be mustered after the fact.

But no.  

No, a mother duck plucks each feather out from the heart of her bosom.
She lines the nest with bits of herself — the best of herself. 

A mother cups her brood not with leftovers — but with her own sacrifice.

The kids pull at the corner of the page, anxious to see the next painting.

Reluctantly, I turn the page. But for weeks, I’m the one turned.

For weeks, part of me lives among Koester’s ducks.

I scrub out the arches of muffin tins after breakfast on a misty morning, the clock ticking insufferably loud in my ears, time running down.

Children need books and learning, and I’m tuned for the expected chime of the doorbell, a service personnel’s scheduled visit.

And the words rise like this lava, “I don’t have time for this! No muffins tomorrow morning!”
Pluck.

It’s like I can feel it.

Like I can feel this tugging.

The service man meets me with muffin tins still in the sink. He meets happy kids. Could I meet needs with a bit more of me?

There are times, too many, when they call, “Read me a story?” “Wanna play a game with me?” “Can you come help me?”

And this mother refuses to pluck.

Something, some task, someone (me?), rates as more pressing, more important. I deem our nest acceptable just as it is. I don’t want to sacrifice more of me.

Then it comes: the pecking, the scratching, the squawking. When the feather lining of the nest wears thin, the nest chafes hard. We feel it. We hurt. Life gets hard.

Nests need feathers deep.

Someone must pluck.

When will I learn: The down we sacrifice from ourselves — this is what settles and soothes.
Scraps won’t suffice. 

Not mere snippets of time, leftover me, a trinket, a diversion, tossed.

Mother ducks don’t line nests with feathers, dirty and trampled, the molted and unnecessary. Why would I? 

 Nests need feathers fresh, warm with mother’s life.

The pain of the plucking can linger long.

The parts of oneself sacrificed, this can hurt.

But was it really sacrifice? 

 Or was my skin just too tender? It’s done, it was necessary, and it was for something better.
Some nights, when all sleep, I feel along the hidden bald patches.

Come evening,

I ask a boy to vacuum up popcorn and paper remnants and bits of the day.
Dinner needs making, laundry needs rescuing, math needs marking. My head aches. Popcorn crunches under the feet.

The boy hauls the vacuum cleaner out of the front closet. I should have noticed how his eyes had this glint. He plugs in the machine and it grumbles loud and he recalibrates that vacuum cleaner —- to fire socks.

He’s firing sock cannons across the kitchen.

His brothers dive in. Socks fly. Brothers howl and whip and it gets loud.

Caught in the cross-fire with a pot in hand – a mother can either erupt. Or Pluck.

This old mother, she tosses the pot and chases down future men, wrestles them down and pins them in tickles. It feels good, wild and alive.

We warm here in laughter.

Us close, one atop the other, nesting down into sacrifices, soft and small, a solace.

Night descends. Kids crawl into beds. I read stories, stroke hair, say prayers.

Prayers to Him who plucked hard from His own heart.

A sacrifice, staggering and true, for love of His very own. 

We learn love from His laid down.

Tired heads nestle into pillows, into these pillows of down.

We rest on all these feathers plucked…

My Cookie Project- Mini Chippers

Yesterday the kids wanted a dessert treat and had popsicles. They are a leftover treat from Tessa's birthday when I told her she could choose two special things in the grocery store. She chose Cheetos and these Airhead popsicles that are like half popsicle and half airhead taffy.

They are seriously gross. And I love popsicles. I need a 12 step program for Real Fruit brand lemon popsicles. But these that she chose are seriously gross.

And they have like 546 ingredients. They are not food.

So I thought I should make some cookies. I mean the whole point of my cookie project that I started so many moons ago was to have healthy 'real' treats available for the kids when the deserved or earned them.

So we went back to basics with some mini M&M cookies. I would say these are straight up organic aside from the M&Ms themselves. Organic M&Ms are out there but not within my grasp today.

Organic shortening makes me giggle. I mean seriously...it's Crisco right?

Tessa trying to get a handle on the hand mixer. That thing is seriously out of control. The lowest setting can send food flying onto the ceiling. But I love it. We've been through alot together.

Desperate times...we were out of baking soda so I broke open this bad boy that I keep near the bag of used cloth diapers (Charley still wears them at night). It worked. I just hope we don't die of urine fume poisoning or something.

I've got to learn to give over a little control. I first told Charley he couldn't scoop cause he'd make a mess, only to discover that he's actually really good at it. Let them try Mommy, let them try.

Okay but he was super slow at it. It added like 12 whole minutes to our baking time.

Ah that's better. Some real food.

Here's the recipe.

Tessa Serenades

Punky Power!

I scored Tessa two (cheap!) DVDs of Punky Brewster for part of her birthday party, and today she wanted to dress like her. She even had the mismatched shoes. Yes we went out on the town just like this! Excuse her pouty face. I think she had lost a bean for not feeding the dogs when she was asked to. Pouty Punky.

A pretty good knockoff?

It's so funny to think she loves a show that I loved when I was 5 years old. It's timeless! I feel the same way about the Cosby show, which we watch reruns of as well. I should think of more good old classic family shows, hmmm....

The Slackers are Still Here

I noticed that I haven't blogged much in the past two weeks. I still haven't posted Tessa's party pictures, even though I posted them on FB. I need to write about Mom and I doing wine and canvas, and getting rear ended by a hit and runner last night. I planted the garden and Jeremy took the kids on his first solo trip to the Children's Museum. All mostly undocumented.

And we still haven't done our annual tradition and taken Tessa's birthday picture out by the fence and flowers. Although, this one I can blame on Indiana's crazy weather. Those tulips and grape hyacinths that normally bloom near Tessa's birthday, bloomed 6 weeks early. Our natural backdrop has been compromised.

I'm not the only slacker. Jeremy still hasn't put together a slide show for Tessa's 5th birthday. We always do the slide shows for every birthday. Major slackage.

Why the slackage? I'm not sure, but mostly because we've been busy and tired. Remember those horrible allergies and my reoccurring back injury? Both of those kicked my butt this week, as well as some extended family matters that added an extra lump of stress and some lost sleep. Jeremy's got his mind on work and the possibility for changes in the future, and taking care of his tired wife.

So....we're here. We're doing great.  God is good. Just stay tuned faithful readers. It's all coming eventually.

From the Poop Files

There was the time that toddler Tessa ate some dog poop.

There was the time that baby Charley had a big red poop after eating beets and I thought he was hemorrhaging.

And many other undocumented poop incidents. Poop happens. Poop is life.

So, today was the day that Charley squatted like a dog and pooped on the lawn. 

I was watering my newly planted maters and came back around to the backyard to overhear Jeremy telling Charley...no you can PEE in the grass but you cannot POOP in the grass!! I spied a deposit in the grass that clearly, ahem...didn't belong to the dachshunds, and of course Charley's pants around his ankles were an obvious admission of guilt.

"But I'm a doggy!"  he said, with his little lip quivering.

Oh brother.

At least the neighbors didn't see him.

Underwear Fishing

...in the kitchen with  your sister's new Barbie fishing pole.

What's weird about that?

Family on Wheels

Tessa's birthday present from us was a new bike. Her old one had gotten too small for her and her poor knees were always whacking the handlebars. She now owns an 18 incher!

Charley got a bike for his birthday too but just recently figured out how to pedal it. He's been doing really well. He always wants a push to get started, but Mommy showing him a little 'tough love' and making him figure it out himself has paid off.

Yesterday we went round and round the cul-de-sac and he needed very little help (or maybe finally figured out he wasn't getting any).

Since they were riding so well by themselves, I got out my bike too! This old thing was dusty and flat tired in the garage for a long time, and Jeremy recently cleaned it up for me. 

Tessa desperately wants to go on a family ride but I don't think Charley is ready. We had a hard enough time getting to the stop sign and back without getting killed. Baby steps. Or pedals. Baby pedals.


Can I just say...my tooshie is sore today.

And now for some more photography by Tessa....