Babies Don't Have It So Good

When I am in public, my 6-month-old snuggled in a wrap on my chest, I find that people are jealous. Not of me, but of Gabo. They are under the false assumption that he "has the life." Yes, at the moment he is warm and cozy snuggled up on his mother's chest. But that could all change at the drop of a hat.

Would I rather be an adult or a baby? An adult, hands down. Because when you are a baby ...

• You are sitting in, and often covered in poop, at least once a day. When your diaper doesn't hold it goes up your back. On really bad days it finds it way into your socks. No matter how quickly your parent detects the mess you have still spent a period of time sitting in your own feces.

• You deal with ongoing pain for 2 years. Teeth attempt to push through your sore gums, not all at once in a humane manner, but one at a time. Once you feel relief it starts again. Despite having frozen objects thrust into your mouth or swallowing some sticky faux grape flavored liquid, you still hurt.

• When your nose is stuffy you can't eat. Adults have the choice of keeping their mouths open. While possibly not appreciated by their dinner partners, the choice is there. You either can't eat or you dribble sticky breast milk or formula down your chin.

• You don't have fine motor skills. This is a true detriment when you have an older sibling or two, shoving toys, their bodies or any other object they can find into your face. You have no recourse but to sit there and take it, sometimes squirming and flailing your arms, but rarely to any useful end.

•  Dignity? What is that? You have no privacy. Your diaper may be changed in the back of a car, on the hood of a car or on a public lawn. Worse still, you may be changed in a public bathroom. If luck is on your side the changing table may be in a stall but how often does that happen? Usually you are being changed in the line of bathroom traffic, your parent often being in the way and attracting the attention of others. You are subjected to the "oohs and ahhs" that come from viewing a cute baby behind when you just want to be clean. 

• Despite your best effort to perfect different cries your parents rarely get it right. They overreact and their exhaustion and anxiety get in the way. You are held when you don't want to be, put down when you want to be held. You are fed when you aren't hungry and changed when your diaper isn't wet. You feel like your parents should get it which leads to more frustration and crying. Why can't they get it right?

• For your safety you are often strapped into car seats, high chairs, swings, bumbos, jumpers and vibrating seats. You just want to be let loose on the world. You want to put that stale cheerio in your mouth that you spied on the floor. You don't care that you don't have teeth. You just want to be free.

As I sit here typing and Gabo sleeps soundly on my chest I admit that there are moments when he has it good. But soon he will wake.

First Words

"I think his first word is going to be gentle."

We were in the playroom of the local library with one other mother, her toddler, and her four month old son. I agreed that "gentle" would probably be Gabo's first word, too. As we spoke, Paddy and the other toddler were "hugging" their brothers.

I want to teach Paddy that his brother is not as durable as his transformer robots or superhero figurines. At times he treats them the same. I know he doesn't want to hurt his brother. He gets excited and wants to play or cuddle. He wants to pick up his 18-pound brother by pulling him up by the head. Even his over exuberant hugs cause me to wince. One day I decided to count how many times I asked him to be gentle. By 7 a.m. the number was so high that I gave up.

I don't have a problem with teaching my toddler right from wrong. It is ok that he has to learn that babies are smaller than him and that his actions can hurt. What bothers me, though, is how our relationship has changed.

Some days I feel that all I do is tell him "no" or "be careful." I threaten to send him to his room or to take away his toys if he isn't more careful with his brother. My husband tries to reassure me. He says our relationship is more than me nagging him, but it doesn't feel that way. 

To make up for this, I overcompensate. I let him eat marshmallows for breakfast and jump off his swing set. He can tell me he is the boss and yell loudly in the house. I probably buy him too many toys and let him eat too many sweets.

I don't want the only word he hears from me to be no. 

My husband and I were once given a piece of advice about our relationship. We were told to make more deposits than withdrawals. I want to heed this advice with my son.  So, I praise him anytime I can. When I have days where I feel like I am constantly telling him no, stop, be gentle, be careful, don't pull on the baby's head, don't push his head into the floor, don't "nibble" his ear, don't roll him over, don't squeeze his neck, don't pinch his neck, don't grab his neck. don't be so rough, I need to tell him how special he is, how smart he is, how athletic he is and how handsome he is. I need to remind him that he is a wonderful big brother.

I agree with him when he says Gabo's first word will be Paddy, not gentle. And I hope he's right.

Sleeping Like a Baby- Part 2

At 9:30 pm I awoke to my husband's voice.

"Do you want to put your boob away?"

The last I had known I had been awake, lying on my side, nursing the baby. I did as he asked and promptly fell asleep.

At 11:30 pm I woke up to nurse the baby.

At 1:30 am I woke up to nurse the baby.

At 3:25 am Paddy called out. My husband went to his room and I heard Paddy tell him that he wanted to get up. He wanted to watch Netflix. They compromised. He came into bed with me. My husband retreated to the basement couch.

At 3:30 am I was lying in bed with the baby nestled on my right arm and my toddler asleep with his cheek on my head and his leg wrapped around my body, snoring in my ear.

At 4:00 am the baby started to cry and my toddler woke up. I nursed the baby and changed him and begged my toddler to go back to sleep.

At 4:10 am I had to pee. I called to my toddler from the bathroom not to squash his brother as he began "hugging" him and telling him how cute he was. I ran from the bathroom to save the baby in time to see my husband staggering up the stairs. He took Paddy to the living room.

At 4:15 am I nursed the baby again, praying he would go back to sleep.

At 4:45 am my husband walked into the bedroom to get a magazine off of his nightstand.

At 4:50 am the baby fell back asleep. Finally!

At 6:00 am my husband entered the room to get dressed and to tell me he had to leave for work.

At 6:11 am the baby woke up.

The next night we started it all again.

Survival of the Fittest

My obstetrician assured me that having big babies was not genetic. I had nothing to fear despite being 10 lbs 2 oz when I was born. When I was 41 weeks pregnant with Paddy I had my final ultrasound. I was told he probably weighed in the 7 pound range. One c-section later and I was holding my 9 lb 7.9 oz baby. I was 42 weeks pregnant. He must have grown a lot in that week!

My smallest baby boy.

I did not have as many ultrasounds with my second child. He measured big at 20 weeks and they projected that he too would be a large baby. Despite the doctor saying that I was in the normal range, I felt like I measured big as well.

 

39 weeks pregnant with Gabo.

At 39 weeks "little" Gabriel entered the world weighing in at 10 lbs 4 oz. Not genetic indeed. I can only imagine if he was born at 42 weeks. My husband would have had to rent a U-Haul to get me to the hospital.

Once Gabo started to smile and laugh, Paddy started to play with him. His idea of being gentle with the baby and mine differ slightly. He uses Gabo's bouncy seat as a launch for his superheros and I've caught him pushing the chair to the floor and letting go, giving his brother quite a ride. He "plays" with the baby on the mat and rolls him onto his chest so that he can be a train and Gabo the passenger.

Gabo riding the Paddy train.

If Gabo had been smaller at birth and had not grown into an 18-pound five-month-old he might not fair as well as a little brother. I do worry if I have a third baby how big we will both be as the new baby will have to survive two older brothers. If I had an even bigger baby it would confirm my theory. Each baby needs to be bigger because in our house it is survival of the fittest.

Raising Sons

Growing up my sister and I played with Tonka trucks and had a favorite climbing tree. After my high school graduation I started mountain biking, returning from adventures covered in dirt. None of that prepared me for raising little boys.

My sister and I also had a softer side of play. We played in our one room schoolhouse that our father built us in our backyard. We had a library in a cove under the stairs. We played quietly for hours with dolls and loved to read. My three year old son by contrast has two speeds, fast or asleep. He is loud, boisterous, sporty and assertive. His cars crash into each other and his super heroes fight. He loves to wrestle with his father and play in dirt piles in the yard.

I feel fortunate to be raising my boys with a partner who was like them as a child but also has a very calm and tender side. This, we agree on, is what we want for our children. The lingering question is how?

How do we raise boys who feel free to run, jump, play, get dirty, crash cars and wrestle while also having a tender side? We want our boys to learn to share and to be caring to those around them. We want them to know that it is OK to express their emotions, whatever that emotion may be. We want them to feel strong and self possessed while also considering the feelings of others and knowing that what they say and do effects the people around them.

 

 

 

Sometimes it feels like a tall order, especially on the long week days when I am alone with them. Every morning my toddler asks me to cuddle and tells me he loves me. He kisses his brother and asks to hold him. He apologizes when he causes hurt (to me at least) and tries to help me take care of the baby. I see glimpses of the compassionate man I hope he will become.I have to trust that in our efforts to raise these boys we are doing many things right. 

Sleeping Like a Baby?

I often wonder who coined the term "sleeping like a baby."  I wonder if said person ever had a baby or was near a baby who was sleeping.  Did this person know the reality of how babies sleep and have their phrase misconstrued?  All questions I will probably never find answers too.  I know that "sleeping like a baby" in my home means waking often, feeding, changing and consoling an infant throughout the wee hours of the morning.  So, what effect has this had on my brain?

Recently I read a PBS story about a sleep study that showed moms are "dangerously exhausted" for months after the birth of a child.  After reading that article I started reading a book on sleep. Although I may not agree with all of his views I found one chapter in Harvey Karp, M.D.'s book "The Happiest Baby Guide to Great Sleep" helpful.  He spoke about the effects of chronic sleep deprivation.  What I think of as mommy mush brain he breaks down into more scientific terms.  He talks about how our moods can be sad or angry as a result of not getting enough sleep.  He also says that we can become more uncoordinated and clumsy.  The effect I identify with most is forgetfulness and confusion.  Finally he says that long term sleep deprivation can cause us to be unhealthy, increasing our risk for weight gain and catching unwanted diseases.  Although I hope to get some rest before it gets that bad I am definitely feeling the effects of "sleeping like a baby."

In thinking about my own mommy mush brain I decided to perform my own study on a much smaller scale.  I decided to offer my toddler a snack without reading the label.  I knew how the snack looked and that he would like it because it was crunchy.  I knew he had eaten this snack before and that I have eaten it for many years.  I racked my brain for the name.  Was it popcorn balls, popcorn cakes?  Did it have anything to do with popcorn?  I pulled the package out, no it didn't look like popcorn.  But what could it be?  I finally gave in and looked at the package.  Rice cakes. Of course.  This is my brain on infant sleep.

Brothers

I didn't expect Paddy to love his brother in the beautiful way that he does.  I didn't expect Gabo to respond to his brother's voice as soon as he was born and to follow him around the room with his eyes.

For months before I gave birth I fretted.  How would Paddy survive my being away from him and how would it impact his relationship with our new family member?

Despite my concerns he survived my absence (our first night apart ever).  He had double grandma power keeping him going for 3 days and although we were both ready for me to return home he was no worse for the wear.

Initially he was a little unsure of his brother.  He demanded 100 percent of my husband's attention and made comments such as "I had you first."  I feared that he would hate his brother and remain jealous forever.  Fast forward 4 months.

The boys play together.

Paddy is so proud to be a big brother.  He takes his responsibility seriously.

One evening we went for ice cream.  I offered for him to go to the counter and pick out a flavor but he chose to stay in the car with his father and brother since he was apparently on "Gabriel watch."

One day I took a shower and asked him to watch the baby for me (my husband was in the next room checking on them regularly).  When I finished I returned to the living room to find him sitting on the couch where he had remained to watch his brother.  He had run to the kitchen for an apple but otherwise had not abandoned his post.

Paddy will often ask to hold his brother. He snuggles up with him, kisses him and tells him how cute he is.  He entertains the baby when he starts to fuss and makes up dances and songs to make him laugh.  Gabo's first wholehearted laugh was in response to his brother's antics.

Gabo lights up when his brother is in the room.  He tries to scoot off my lap and watches him wherever he goes.  I truly believe that Gabo knew Paddy's voice as well as he knew mine when he was born.  They have formed a bond that will be life lasting.

I grew up with a sister and understand the closeness that you can have with a sibling.  I never understood how amazing it can be as a parent to witness that bond or the joy that their brotherhood would bring to my life.