Five days of having a retainer. It’s already been lost.
It is hard to stay calm.
That’s ADHD
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Category Archives: parenting
Milestone tracking: food
Her Sweetness has tasted a few vegetables and tiny licks of meat juice but we haven’t been seriously feeding her.
Today that sorta changed! She had some banana. She kept grabbing our hands to demand more. It was charming and wonderful. Yay babies! I feel like today she really ate for the first time because she wanted multiple noms.
I like this part.
a weekend update
I am so grateful my husband is happy to take the baby for almost the whole day minus feeding time. I am so grateful that my third kid will tolerate being handed off like this. My older kids would have screamed the roof off.
I made my kids spend the whole weekend sorting their stuff. A box for Washington DC (daycare, dear child) (our first hop) and a box for Scotland (second hop) and long term storage and donations. I’m glad we’ve spent the last three months purging because this was still super hard and they didn’t finish.
I understand why my mom spent so much time screaming and hitting me when it came time to pack. This is frustrating as fuck. But I have time so I didn’t scream and I never hit my kids. I feel more compassion for her. She usually had to pack a whole house and move in a weekend or less. I’m spending 5 months on this process. I am creating the space for me to be calm while I do it.
I think most parents are assholes (when they are assholes) because they are overwhelmed and don’t really have enough cope/resources for what they are trying to do.
I spent a bunch of time looking into a POD type storage unit or a local in house place. Given that we have to come back and forth to this area for medical stuff, an in house place will be cheapest and most accessible. I’m pretty happy that we are going to be able to visit the library and check books in and out. I don’t have to ask friends for very much help. This is ideal. I was anxious about asking other people to do work for me. That’s a good way to sour a relationship.
We are selling our fabulous art house to friends who will properly appreciate it. I’m pretty sure everything will be fine. Until that’s signed and delivered I can’t stop thinking about it. There’s some details about the situation I won’t post publicly. But I have a lot of hope.
It turns out we have too many books about religion to do all of the reading in a twelve month period. It’ll take closer to two years. We went through and put post its on the books today and my daughter laid out how she wants to tackle the subject. I’m proud of just how capable of forethought she is. She’s only ten. She decided that she wants to understand people better and she thinks she won’t be able to wrap her head around people until she gets their religions.
I look up to my daughter. She’s an upstanding little person. I learn so much about how to be kind and giving and loving from her.
My son reminds me every single day that my words have power. My body has power. I can intimidate people or I can help them feel safe. I can be nasty and effective or I can be kind and useful. I don’t have to be terrible to get shit done. He teaches me this deep in my belly. We remind each other to watch our tone because we both uhhhh kind of think hostility is the most comfortable approach. But it isn’t. We have to work on this. We try so hard together and we laugh at our mistakes. I’m so glad I get to learn with this wonderful person.
And our baby is the happiest baby I’ve ever been able to be near. I don’t know what the fuck happened. My older kids were not this happy. I think it’s because she loves her little pod of people. Last night at dinner for the first time I put the baby on a chair in between the big kids for dinner and gave her some toys. She was ecstatic to be with the big kids. She kept leaning towards them in this tender way and laughing.
I feel so very lucky that I get to be here. I am allowed to be part of this family. No one is going to make me leave.
It is very hard to believe this is my life.
I made a bunch of progress on packing the garage. Easter stuff is gone. That feels massive after all the Easter parties. I haven’t been ready to sort Christmas yet. We aren’t going to keep that big of a percentage of the stuff. Definitely the tree ornaments. How much more though?
What is important?
Hold on to that feeling
I was quite schmoopy at bedtime. I have such big feelings about the people under this roof. None of us are perfect and that’s ok. We all screw up. We all do things wrong.
We all want to forgive and move on.
Where are the lines? What are the things that should not be forgiven? I know some bright red lines that if they are crossed I need to set the relationship on fire… but I don’t know if there are other lines I should care about.
I tell my children that if they refuse to learn how to treat people with love and respect they can expect to grow up and be alone and friendless because neither other people nor me will put up with being treated like crap. It’s different to make mistakes when you are a kid and you are learning. If you keep this shit up into adulthood… you won’t like the consequences. Life is hard. Consequences hurt.
I’ve been reading the books Positive Parenting and the authors keep stressing, “What is the goal of this discipline?” It’s a great question. Is your point to punish someone for daring to be an asshole? Is your point to help your kid understand that this behavior will not serve their interests?
This is Don’t Shoot the Dog stuff. What is the goal of your interaction?
It’s also important to keep in mind that many very effective extinguishment tools traumatize the shit out of little kids. Could we extinguish a behavior? YES! Will there be horrible long-term consequences? Absolutely.
I was so much bigger of a problem. I have a hard time seeing my kids as being “stuck” in their current behaviors.
I didn’t get over some of their bad habits until I was in my 20’s. I’m not ready to declare that they can’t grow up.
Are my kids perfect? hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaa
Phew, let me wipe up the tears from that laughter.
Uhhhhh no. My kids aren’t perfect. My kids are challenging and difficult and quirky and snotty and rude. And absolutely perfect for me in every way. I love them. I adore them. I want them. Even when they suck. It doesn’t slow down my adulation for them to suck. I’m very open minded about people.
Spending time together is the best. These people make me want to keep trying. No matter how much life hurts. I get to see these beautiful shining faces.
I can put up with discomfort for that.
I’m proud of us
We had a conversation at breakfast about the ice cream. I was clear that I don’t know what to do. I asked kids what they think. Noah had thoughts.
It was nice to talk through things like, “I could over react and say that we can’t buy ice cream anymore or we can only buy vanilla but I feel like neither would solve this problem.”
Eventually we came up with the idea that since we usually buy multiple containers at once we just aren’t allowed to have more than one kind that I won’t eat at a time. Since the kids will freely admit that they eat ice cream that they don’t like very much before the stuff they bought for themselves that I won’t eat at all.
I like a few kinds. Vanilla, cherry vanilla, butter brickle, chocolate chip, cookies and cream, butter pecan…
I just don’t like everything. And it’s annoying that we will go for a month or two with many kinds of ice cream in the freezer I won’t eat. So Noah buys me a container and it’s gone a week later because the kids gorged on the one for me and then go back to slowly picking at their containers.
I don’t know how to have this boundary in a loving way. I’m not even sure I know what it means.
I don’t feel even remotely ok with needing to have all my stuff be separate and labeled with my name. That just feels awful.
I know this is petty as fuck. It’s about the ice cream but it’s not about the ice cream. It’s about consideration and sharing and perceiving other people as worthy of notice.
Processing speed
Sunday was rough for me. Something came up that requires me to set boundaries in ways that make me feel wildly uncomfortable. It maxed out my bandwidth for all boundaries and the day turned into a sobfest as I tried to borrow future spoons to cope.
I’m having this weird feeling of pride because I’m connecting the links in the chain rather quickly for me. There was a thing that genuinely deserves upset and a boundary response like dropping the portcullis. A thing big enough that I’m arranging for adult supervision of the boundary discussion. I need help.
Ok I had to walk around weeping for a day before I could cope with it… but that’s not a long time for me. I’m happy with myself.
On a completely different lighter more hilarious topic. I had a conversation with the kids yesterday about masturbation.
It started out with the word mastication, which I love. I explained how much I love using the word masticate when I talk to teenagers because it is close to the word masturbation and they always twitch in funny ways. My kids laughed as if they got why it was funny… then said “Uhhh what is masturbation?”
I’VE TOLD YOU BEFORE.
I said, “It’s sex with yourself. It’s when you touch your private parts in a private setting.”
“Ohhhhhhhh, that. Oh of course I do that.”
Then my children proceeded to tell me about when they (separately) take the opportunity to go in a room with a locked door for a while. I tried so hard not to blush or look awkward or bug out my eyes. I said, “It sounds like you have figured out how you want to handle this.” The kids nodded and smiled peacefully.
We did not get into any other specifics. I’m good with knowing that you know how to arrange privacy and you know to wash your hands afterwards.
My work here is done. For now.
The meeeeeeeeanest mom evar
I really like the spelling of evar. It gives the word ever the proper whiny intonation.
My kids have been asked to clean up their toys in the back yard a lot over the past few months. If they pick up the toys then our lovely gardener can mow the grass. If there are little land mines every few feet… he can’t.
Guess what the kids didn’t do? That’s right! They didn’t pick up their toys. Now the grass is somewhere around my thigh in height. And there are little toys that could break or break the lawn mower everywhere. Which means the grass can’t be mowed. It has to be pulled by hand.
When my children have done this in the past (refused to clean) I got stuck doing all the pulling. This year… I don’t forking think so. Y’all are big enough.
So they are pulling weeds for five minutes then playing for an hour then pulling weeds for five minutes. They may be out there all weekend. I required clothing that covers all skin and sun block so they don’t burn to a crisp. And right now it is raining a little. They are most put out.
But that grass won’t pick itself. And y’all put us in this situation where a human hand must be involved in every single patch of grass. That makes it your responsibility and not mine. Have fun!
I do bring snacks out to them periodically. I’m not an unfeeling monster.
A discourse on nagging
I asked my family today if they mind my nagging because I feel quite bad about it. My feelings of “badness” stem almost entirely from my belief that society in general dislikes nagging, especially from women. A nagging woman is a scold. Historically speaking being a scold is very bad indeed.
My family generally indicated that they don’t love it but they get why I do it and they accept it as part of life. Noah specifically detailed how he never ever labels my behavior nagging on purpose because he knows I am ashamed of it and if he comments on in it in any neutral fashion I will attempt to suppress the behavior. Which will lead to me not communicating where and what my needs and desires are and at some point things will get so off course I will explode and be a right bitch. He’d much rather I nag him. (He can express all of this without ever calling me a bitch; that’s 100% me.)
He likes being married to me and he plays me like a video game.
We all agree that to some degree our nagging is positive/important because we are all very invested in supporting one another living to a ripe old age and that’s why we pester about eating well and exercising. We all really want the others to continue and that means we are twerps about “Hey you aren’t doing this thing you should do.” Everyone in this house has at some time or another said, “You really sound like you haven’t taken your medication today.” Do I love hearing it? I do not. So mostly I take my fucking medication so they won’t fucking ask me.
We are a house full of people with atypical brains. All of us struggle with regulation and routine. Some of are us are diagnosed as autistic and/or as having ADHD but I have my suspicions about people who haven’t been diagnosed yet. We certainly all manifest struggles in similar areas.
Medication was not offered to me as an option when I was young. I had to learn how to cope with my brain. I learned how to make a schedule that will get all the things done. But we have to help each other stay on the schedule.
That’s a lot of where nagging comes in. How do we help each other stay on task? It’s hard. It takes a lot of willpower. It was tactfully suggested to me that I try letting the kids be the train conductors sometimes. Now that I have set the children up with ridiculously scheduled days from now until the end of the next school year (online calendars are so much faster than writing all that shit by hand) we will see about handing around conducting responsibility. Stage managing. Project managing.
It’s all the same shit. How do you have a list of requirements and make sure they are all met? Figure it the fuck out. You try. You fail. You try something else. You fail again. You try something else. It kind of works but not very well. You try combining the last thing with part of thing one and hey that’s a little better.
And the thing is, with the home schooling thing… we have to create all of the structure for ourselves. None of it comes externally imposed.
We are not taught history or science or maths or physical education or religion or home economics or drawing or financial responsibility or… anything by an outside source unless we go ask pretty please, like with tae kwon do or gymnastics or swimming or chess. And we haven’t outsourced a lot. We tried for a writing class. The teacher quit in the middle of the term because students weren’t cooperating how she wanted. Well awesome. That means that *I* have to schedule a lot of time where I sit around and teach my children absolutely everything I think they need to know as adults.
I am not raising children. I am raising future adults. What will they be like? I don’t know for sure. But those little turkeys will be able to make and follow a schedule even though it is not natural for any of us.
Children need structure. Well, some people believe this. My children are more polite and easier to live with when my expectations are clearly communicated and I do so best through structure.
Thus I nag like a motherfucker. I’m so god damn annoying. But you know what? The more I nag the less I scream.
Noah’s not wrong. He has lived with me for a minute or two.
But Sarah isn’t wrong when she points out that once I get the schedule set… there’s no reason I need to squat over it like a poisonous toad ensuring I am the taskmaster. Sharing is caring.
When we go on the road my body load is going to explode. I worry about teaching the kids to take turns micro managing each other. That shit is complicated. I need to not parentify the children.
Where is the happy medium.
Let’s fuck this up six ways from Sunday and see what we learn.
Well that sucks.
My back hurts so badly I feel on the verge of vomiting. Fuck. I can’t keep sleeping on my side. Fuck side nursing.
I love my baby. I will meet her needs. Holy toast this phase of needing me at night is hard.
Edited to add: I did puke. About an hour after writing this. That was festive.
HUUUUUUUGE outing.
Today my not quite 8 week old baby will be on public transit going to San Francisco for the first time. This is… kinda early for this much people exposure but I feel like I’m about to yank all my hair because I’m too pent up. I need out of my god damn house.
We are going to see Sarah. Because she wants to see us and coming down to us all the time is a pain. Sharing the load is fair.
I joined a “stop yelling at your kids” support thread on the parenting forum. I’m taking too much cranky out on my big kids and it needs to stop.
My moods are bouncing like whoa. I’m really happy and I’m really irritable and snappish. I’m afraid I am too much for everyone and that means I deserve nothing.
Come on brain, pick a god damn track already.
Grumpy face
For records: sugar and screen time stuff is rough. Kids aren’t keeping agreements and they are driving me batshit.
I am not giving them Easter candy in their baskets it is so bad. I need a line in the sand. This is it.
I am tired of being asked for sugar after *literally* every bite of vegetables. I’m done.
And EC figured out how to sit on their browser history page deleting stuff she isn’t supposed to look at.
Screen time is limited to academics indefinitely because I need to research key logging software. Cause I always wanted to monitor people like this.
Parenting sucks. But I need to pull the boundaries in hard and fast because I’m about to explode and beat someone. (Not really. But screaming mean words isn’t ok either and I’m running low on self control. I need to act like my limits are real.) If they are acting like velociraptors testing the fence to see where the real boundaries are, time to turn the electricity up so they back off.
I need to enforce boundaries and limits when I am 100% in control of myself. I can’t lose my shit and freak out. That’s wrong. I can instead say, “Sugar and screen time are privileges not birthrights. You have lost both.” Cause holy shit that’s true. I asked them this morning if they think they have been keeping agreements. They acknowledge that they haven’t even a little. At least we agree about how things have been going. Sigh.
This would all be easier if I got more god damn sleep.
I’m debating putting the candy in the freezer but I am more likely to make little baskets and send the kids to deliver the baskets to neighbors tomorrow while I hide the eggs for the hunt.
I’m not taking Easter away and they will still get baskets with treats. But no sugar. We need a break.
April will be as close to sugar free as I can manage. Except fruit. That’s not a problem. It’s like me taking a month off of pot to reset my tolerance levels. My kids need the same thing. Noah does caffeine fasts periodically. So we are doing something with our kids that we do as adults to manage our drug usage. (Caffeine, pot and sugar are all drugs we are addicted to. Let’s be real here.)
We aren’t doing this just to make them feel bad. We need a break so we can try again. Attempting to lower usage levels a little has failed. Tolerance breaks are useful.
{milestone} Laughter
Because I have to ask Sarah or Noah things about my older children, let me write down that the day before she turned five weeks old YC started laughing in her sleep. She isn’t social smiling or laughing yet, it’s still a reflex. But it’s really sweet.
In other news… I think we are in a growth spurt. She’s nursing constantly but pulling off my nipple to yell at me that she wants to nurse. No she doesn’t have a soiled diaper. No she doesn’t need to burp. No she doesn’t seem to want anything else but boy howdy is she so darned mad that I am not giving her boobie. When she has my nipple in her mouth.
I quit.
No I don’t. I have years of this shit ahead of me again. But I am slightly frustrated. Given how frothy green her poop is… I suspect she’s being lazy about hind milk and not wanting to draw hard to get it. She wants to switch back and forth to whichever boob is flowing more easily and that’s not good for her. I need to get tough and force her to fully drain a boob before moving on. Do you know how hard it is to try and enforce boundaries with a god damn newborn?! They cry and my resolve melts like butter on a hot griddle. Ok! Whatever you want! Yes dear! I live to serve!
I don’t feel so bad about telling a six or seven month old they need to fully drain a side before moving on. It’s just easier to be stern with a child who can hold their own head up. Being strict with someone who can’t even see you when you sit 3′ away…
That shit takes a lot more resolve than I have. Oh god. I’ll do anything. Just don’t die you tiny fragile thing, There is no such thing as spoiling you. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll pay as much attention to you as you want.
Just tell me, love.
She is nursing as I type. It’s late for us. She’s been having a hard time with lying down in bed for the past couple of nights. She’ll go to sleep in the carrier while we walk. She’ll sleep on the Boppy while I sit in the living room. But the bed just pisses her off. I’m not sure why.
It’s not even because she wants to be on me because for half the night or more in bed she sleeps slung across my chest because nothing else is acceptable.
I had a moment earlier today where I had a chance to crush MC’s spirit or not. I managed to not do so. *pat self on back* MC kinda… lost their grip on YC today. The baby slid off of MC’s legs while they were on the couch. The baby didn’t actually land on the floor because between MC having lightning fast reflexes where they lifted their legs to cushion the fall and me lurching forward to catch the baby… she didn’t even hit her head on the floor. But there was a good second or two where I felt complete panic.
My instant response was to scream that they don’t need to hold the baby again any time soon. As I watched tears well up in their eyes I realized I did that wrong. I fairly immediately tried to take it back. “No. That was the wrong thing for me to say. I’m so sorry. That’s not the right response for you or for her. I was scared and I over reacted. Ok. How about if you sit on the floor to hold her. She is getting very squirmy and that’s scary and dangerous. Both your dad and I have dropped babies. I don’t need to act like you did a worse thing. I’m sorry I screamed. That was wrong of me. Let me help you hold her safely.”
I have absolutely no desire to convince them that a mistake means you are out of chances. That is the wrong way to handle it.
I’m screaming more than I have in years. It’s reflexive. It’s a combination of my nerves feeling like they are being run over a cheese grater (baby screaming is so hard) and sleep deprivation. The last three or four nights have been every two hour wake ups and I’m weary. These reasons are not an excuse and they do not justify me losing control of my volume. I’m trying and failing to keep my shit together.
It’s not even that I’m saying that much mean shit. It’s that I’m saying things like “I can’t hear you” at ridiculous volumes. I’m really struggling with the screaming. And feeling touched out.
I went and got ear plugs for tonight’s fussy period. My head hurts so much. I wouldn’t trade this for the world… it’s hard but worth it. Getting through this together helps build our bond. Yes I will stay with you through the hard parts.
I’m alternating between feeling like I’m doing a good job because I’m asking Noah and the big kids to help me with stuff and I feel like I’m a horrible person because I’m so lazy and demanding, I just can’t win.
H’okay. That’s a very poopy diaper I need to change. Whoo.
Don’t argue, just do what you do.
Today we have our one month pediatrician visit. My baby will be probably have some vaccine shots. Why? Because I believe in science? No. Because there is a preponderance of evidence that this will keep my kid alive and I went through a fuck ton of effort to make her so she’d better fucking stay alive.
I’m just saying.
My kid horrified me the other day. We were discussing how we really don’t want the baby to die so we should take some steps. (It didn’t start out as a weird seeming conversation…) Then my kid said, “Yeah we really don’t want to go through nine months of pregnancy again so this kid had better live.”
My eyes were as wide as dinner plates. Whoa. Ok then.
They aren’t wrong. But that’s not really all I mean. I’m already invested in this girl. I like her. It’s not just the investment cost…
Parenting is weird.
You need to get over it, for the sake of your children… now.
I had my first session with my shrink in a while yesterday. We focused on what stuff I need to work on to be a better support to my kids. It all came down to one thing though.
I do not perceive myself as a good person who makes mistakes. I perceive myself as a monster who sometimes does the right thing.
In my shrink’s opinion as long as this is true I will not be able to help my child deal with their overwhelming shame.
They said, “You are a good person who makes mistakes. Until you believe that about yourself you can’t teach it to your child. So you have to learn how to believe it, now.”
Sure. I’ll just do that.
Know your place
For nine more weeks my primary job is nursing and snuggling. For ten more weeks my secondary job is homeschooling the children and following the charter school guidelines.
I can get through most anything for a set period of time.
We are going to have a month of summer vacation then get started on a year round cycle for next academic year. We agreed that we want to try three months on, one month off for next year because three months of summer vacation is too much.
But first to get through the fourth trimester without exploding from boredom.
Naw, no shame
I’m going to write this up. Because it seems important.
CPS came to our house yesterday. They were checking up on that incident I’m being cagey about from last summer. First: the fact that it took them 8+ months to follow up is a sign that the system does not have time for low hanging fruit.
The caseworker was a really nice dude. He had a soft spoken voice; he was incredibly non threatening and warm. He is clearly someone who works for CPS because he wants to be able to help kids who are in trouble.
He asked us a lot of questions and he liked our answers. He closed the case and agreed with the person I spoke to on the phone way back when I self reported this incident to CPS last summer: “Sometimes kids do things we wish they wouldn’t and then we have to educate them as to why they can’t ever do that again.”
My kids were scared to talk to him then confused and relaxed after they did because “I don’t understand why he cares if I like X grade…”
The questions weren’t scary or intense but the questions for us as adults were thorough. I feel he asked questions that should be asked for the protection of children and I don’t feel upset at all for being monitored in this way. I’m glad there are folks to check up on kids how he did.
It was kind of funny how he relaxed a little after we explained about our non-binary kid.
I want to relate more details about the questioning because I feel like it was well done, but that would be skirting the privacy of my kids and that’s the barrier I’m trying to stick to.
But I’ll say that as a parent, CPS was absolutely lovely. They were checking up on the safety of my kids and they were not threatening in any way. I do actually feel glad that there are people in this world who will just show up to make sure my kids are ok. Given my background that seems so wonderful.
It’s not a bad thing to be monitored. I’m not ashamed of how I’m handling issues. I feel very proud that when I’m asked about discipline I can talk with great detail about how I handle issues and I feel confident that I’m doing the best that is available to me. We talk. We do time ins more than time outs. Outside voices go outside.
It’s not that we never fuck up. It’s that when we do… we do intensive education about why it needs to change next time.
This is the best we can do. And it’s not terrible in the scheme of things. The fact that I self reported the issue and put both of my kids in therapy (we actually had the appointments scheduled before the incident! It wasn’t a reactionary choice! It was proactive but it happened at exactly the time when we needed it to) and family therapy and worked more on education stuff…
What the hell else can you do?
smks: hug edition
I haven’t used Shit My Kids Say in a while.
Yesterday my big girl asked me what I want for Mother’s Day. We are planners in this house. I told her that what I wanted was to be a mother. She squinched up her face at me. She asked me what I want to get. I said hugs and kisses.
She sighed and said, “We give you hugs and kisses every day. They aren’t special.”
This is one of those moments where my heart isn’t sure how to respond. Wow. I can’t imagine having that kind of hubris about physical affection. It is just so expected and standard that it isn’t special? I’m still grateful for every single day of morning snuggles. I don’t take it for granted. Some day my kids won’t be little and they won’t want to start every single day with touching me. I need to appreciate the fuck out of this while I have it.
And my daughter… she just can’t perceive a future where things might change or be different. Being loved is just… life for her.
On one hand I feel like I have done something wrong by not teaching her to value this more. On the other hand… I taught her that love is so plentiful and common and constant that you should expect it every single day.
I did that. Noah certainly helped and I don’t denigrate that. But…. I did that. Noah would have skipped days. Noah wasn’t with us on the road trip. Noah has absolutely filled in the gaps when I wasn’t available (like my Alaska trip) but he wasn’t the one who created the absolute assumption that the kids would be loved on daily. Partially because back when he worked out of the house things were just more catch as catch can. I think he could provide it now.
My kids can’t imagine a world where they feel anything for me other than complete adoration.
I did that. Even on days when I was pissed at them. Even on days when they were grounded or they received some punishment that infuriated them. They know with all of their heart that they can’t be so bad that I will stop loving them and hugging them.
I did that.
This ache I feel inside about how I will never be good enough to deserve being loved? It is a foreign language to them. They can’t imagine having this feeling.
I did that.
I’m so excited about this third journey through motherhood. What will it be like to parent a baby and a toddler when I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I can dig deep and find the patience to do this right. The first two times I was so riddled with self-doubt. I was always afraid that I was going to absolutely fail them and be their monster instead of their mother. Instead my kids have no desire to be away from me and they think that spending their days with me is the absolute best way they can spend their time.
I don’t know for sure that my third kid will end up liking me as much. But I no longer fear that I will completely fail them. Maybe we will end up having non-compatible personalities. I feel pretty ok about our ability to figure that out.
We have already figured out a lot of things together and I don’t see that trend slowing down.
We finally negotiated food stuff yesterday. The kids were… surprisingly plucky about it. They were almost delighted to decide some of their own restrictions. Like, we are cutting back on how often we have dessert and sweet breakfast because the kids can admit that we have assigned “sweets” 6 days a week and we get random treats and… that’s too much. That means sugar is not a sometimes food it is… the food we eat and that’s bad for us. And when they get to listing off the fruits and vegetables they like to eat… it doesn’t sound so bad. They have plenty of stuff they like to eat.
We agreed to a pattern of eating and they said they will try to manage it for themselves without parents having to police it. Breakfast and dessert we should each try to have a piece of fruit so we feel like we are getting the sweet burst we like to have. For lunch kids are going to try to have two vegetable servings and for dinner we will try for one vegetable serving. I know that isn’t a lot in the scheme of things. But the kids trying to be responsible for eating their vegetables without reminding is kind of new for us.
I’m really tired of asking them every day what they have eaten and if they have gotten enough food groups. I just… I need a break. So we agreed to a pattern of eating that won’t require as much thought on anyone’s part or as much negotiation on my part. They said this is how they want to manage their dietary needs. Other snacks should lean heavily towards protein. We have a great many options in our house.
We’ll see how long this negotiation lasts. *sigh*
If I got a month of not having to nag I’d be happy.
Support is amazing.
There’s a thing going on with my child that I haven’t written much about because it isn’t my story to tell and I’m worried about their boundaries. But I want to express gratitude for part of it in my records so that in the future when I feel like stuff is hopeless I will have to acknowledge that hope does exist.
That thing that happened last summer. Between my big kids. The thing that wasn’t cool and one kid ended up feeling upset but not permanently wounded and another kid ended up feeling like they are a monster in training.
My child isn’t a monster. But a serious mistake was made and learning from it and growing past it are part of life’s difficult process.
We’ve been struggling a lot with the growing past it part. Kiddo is still feeling like they are bad and there is no redemption for them. Dude. There’s so little in this life that cannot be redeemed. Especially something you do as an under ten year old child. That’s just… life… Just about all of us fuck up. How do you internalize that and integrate it and become a better person?
That’s what life is? I think?
But the support I am giving my kid is insufficient. I reached out. I emailed my shrink, the kid shrink, our family shrink and I said, “I don’t know how to help my kid through this. I am failing them and that means we need to find new tools because it is not ok to fail them on this topic.”
I feel so grateful that we have these folks in our life. Hey L, you recommended a great shrink for me! And they have been able to recommend a whole string of useful people! This has been the best therapy rec of my life! Gosh I owe you for this.
So the three therapists talked to one another. They came up with a couple of layers of strategies and they emailed back. They are going to help us as a family create a ritual to release the shame. We are so woo and this absolutely right up our alley.
I feel overwhelmed with gratitude that I found support folks to help my family learn how to grow together towards health and love without shame.
We are so fucking lucky.
Beeee yourself
Eldest Child wanted to sleep with my nipple in her mouth at all times. Middle Child wanted to nurse enough to not be starving and then get that dang boob out of their face. Youngest Child wants to nurse probably slightly past satiation so that she has a good vomit towards the end but then she wants to sleep with the nipple against her lips in case she wants it later. If the nipple moves away she is terribly upset.
EC could not be put down. MC liked being left alone to look around a room a little. YC mostly wants to be held but if you put her down for a few minutes she’s ok with it and she doesn’t start indicating that she’s lonely until I’ve been gone 5-10 minutes.
EC and MC both screamed in the car as if we were lying them on a bed of nails. YC… is mostly chill unless she got into the car hungry.
EC was the most violently anti-diaper changes; she screamed hysterically through every diaper change for months. MC didn’t like them but didn’t cry 100% of the time. YC sometimes gets annoyed with being cold and complains about that but mostly she’s thrilled to get poop taken off her and she is quiet and cooperative.
Noah points out that this baby is the least… fussed post birth and she’s the only birth where I didn’t feel traumatized.
It is wonderful to me that I can’t see my family or Noah’s family in YC’s face the way I can in EC or MC. She is so completely and totally her own person. YC has a few facial expressions in common with EC (oh they have a mighty pirate YARRRRRRR face) and her face shape is suggestive of EC’s face… but very different. My Youngest Child looks like herself and that’s it.
This child seems so relaxed and mellow. She seems happy and like she’s getting exactly what she needs. I don’t feel as anxious and on the verge of ruining her life/killing her as I did with the older kids. She feels so fragile, but she also seems happy and sturdy. I think she feels fragile because I have acclimated to big kids and the difference is striking.
My milk is fully in. I’m at my pre-pregnancy weight (I’M EATING EVERYTHING THAT ISN’T NAILED DOWN). My house is shockingly tidy. My kids have not fallen behind on school work. I’m doing 1-3ish hours of chores a day and mostly resting.
I’m doing “the right things”. I’m a little bored because sitting this still is not my favorite. I think that today I will be up for trying another walk. I tried making breakfast on day three and squatting to get stuff out of the bottom of the fridge fucking hurt so bad I wanted to scream so I didn’t try a walk yesterday or day three. I’m on day five now.
It’s amazing that she’s only been here five days. I like her so much.
I think YC will be fully out of newborn size by the time she is ten days old. I can barely sorta get it on her now.
I am back to the point where I’m looking at all of my clothes and thinking, “How much boob access does this have?” I have multiple years in front of me where all of my clothes need to be picked based on access to my nipples. This is kind of hilarious to me. Given our plans in this time period I’m a little confused as to how much of this I should box up for “some day” and how much I should just pass along.
I already took all of my maternity stuff out and put it in bags to donate. I could barely wear it pregnant because I never got that big and I’m already shrunk down to about the middle of my size range. I’m mushy and I have extra skin, but my girth is not anywhere near as big as I am sometimes without being pregnant so my clothes are fitting fairly normally already.
My boobs are ridiculous. Rock hard and almost the size of EC’s skull. Which is disturbing because she’s almost 10 and has an adult sized head. YC’s skull looks tiny and insignificant next to my mighty tits. This makes me giggle so much. Bodies are weird. I miss tandem nursing right now. Having a big kid to relieve all the pain of engorgement was a gift.
Yesterday I hit the wall of “Oh my god every single piece of me is in pain. Ow Ow Fucking Ow.”
Blacksheep followed up on me asking her how she psyches herself up to be bad ass. She said that part of it is she never says to herself that she can’t do something.
I really do aspire to be as bad ass as this woman someday.
But the thing is… I have limits. I have physical, emotional, and mental limits. There are things I can’t do.
That’s hard. I think that my limits are often pretty extreme… there are many ways in which my limits greatly exceed “average” so folks are confused by the vehemence of my expression of limits. Mostly… I am not what people think of when they think “disabled” which is completely legit.
My limits move around based on a lot of factors. When I did the elimination diet from hell my body was so sick. I could not do a fraction of what I normally can. It was rough. I go through periods where I have no energy or ability to think and I essentially shut down. I plan around these things and try to avoid hitting the wall so that I fail people.
I think that I am so certain and defensive of my limits because I’m well aware of how often I could fail people if I were more casual about how I observe my boundaries. If I didn’t watch my limits like a hawk I would let people down and I really don’t want to. I have so much to give and then I’m done and I don’t want someone standing around needing me to continue or they will fail too. That’s not fair.
So I am adamant and fierce about my boundaries because if I don’t then I will hurt people. I know where I will fail and I identify that point and I do my best to avoid it. I know how to work me until I am absolutely spent… but I got through the necessary bits.
So when it comes to talking myself into doing something hard… I have to look at the whole picture before I decide if I can or can’t do something. There are millions of things I could do if I was supported properly and they were all I was doing. Can I do those things within the structure and framework of my life given my other obligations? That’s a harder question. The calculus is intense.
So as much as I admire and look up to the idea of seeing yourself as just so fucking competent it isn’t in question… I’m pretty sure that will always be aspirational for me. There are too many ways I fail for me to have such hubris. (I’m not saying it is hubris for someone else… I’m talking about my failings here.)
I am really enjoying how much mothering feels like something I can do even though it is hard and draining and demanding. Mothering really kind of sucks as a job. It’s painful and often not that rewarding moment by moment.
But I get to look at my glorious children and know that I did that. I made them from scratch and then I fed their bodies and nurtured their minds and their spirits. I don’t think that mothering is the best task for everyone. I don’t think it should be a mandatory part of anyone’s life. But I want it to be part of my life and I want to be good at it.
And I am.
Normal
On one hand, I worry about how much sleep I’m getting. On the other hand… I’m actually getting a fairly normal amount of sleep for me when I am unmedicated at night. This is what my body… does.
There is this belief that you must get a “reasonable” amount of sleep or you can’t be healthy. I believe it is true… to a point. Do you know how grateful I have been to have doctors start telling me that my sleep stuff is probably related to a combination of ADHD (I burn more energy with less need for rest than average) and PTSD hypervigilance. I probably don’t NEED as much sleep as other people. Seven hours is pretty average for me with heavy sleep meds.
So getting 3-5 hours is low but… not scary low for me?
One of my favorite parts of giving birth is my horrifying anxiety just… lifts. I have a little anxiety about my babies but not a lot. Mostly I feel competent in a way I rarely feel in life. I can’t sit around like a queen giving orders when I’m pregnant but I don’t hesitate postpartum. Bring me that. Fetch the other thing. Go do this chore. No problem!
I will sit here and hold my baby and somehow manage to still be wildly productive because my mind feels so thrilled to be doing what it is doing.
I love my baby. She is perfect. If she weren’t canonically perfect she would be perfect to me. I’m not scared of my children having problems. I have problems. We cope.
Like, we get to take her to Stanford for an ultrasound for her kidney because stuff wasn’t perfect at birth. I don’t care. Whatever I have to do for her will get done. She is my baby.
If I have to blow things up to take care of her I will. If I have to mow someone down because they are blocking something I need for her… I won’t flinch.
My children motivate me in a way nothing else on this earth ever has or ever will. I will find a way to change for my children. I will become whatever they need from me. It doesn’t matter if it is hard or if it hurts. I brought you into this world. I owe you. I owe you everything.
I don’t mean “everything” like every class or toy or treat you want. Boundaries make healthy people. But I owe you my life. I owe you my sanity. I owe you my need to get up in the morning and try again.
Apparently in our house we now have a Sissy and a Sibby. (Sister/Sibling) This is… making me cry in a nice way. My big kids are so happy about the baby they are about to burst.
After the next diaper change I’m starting a load of diaper laundry. This makes me weirdly very happy. Let the next cycle begin. I am so ready. I am ready to take care of you and do what you need. You are worth all the work I could possibly put into you and more. I will give you what I have. It will fall short of your needs because life is like that. Luckily you have a daddy who loves you to distraction. And you have a Sissy and a Sibby who want to take care of you when I can’t do everything.
You, my lovely daughter, are going to be ok. We will make sure of it.
My milk hasn’t fully come in yet, but my boobs are sweeeeeelling. It’s hilarious and painful because my boobs are already getting to that point where my nipples are hard for a newborn to manage. Overwhelmed by boob is a hilarious facial expression. By later today my boobs will dwarf her head. Ha.
Last night I swaddled the baby super well and gave her to Noah. I went to bed a few minutes before 8. I got up for the day at 2:30 for the second feeding (the first feeding was around 11, I think?). Amusingly… that’s barely short of sleep for me. I hope Noah will sleep in. If I get up and get breakfast for the kids, this may be a fairly good pattern for a couple of weeks. I get a solid chunk of sleep for the first shift then Noah gets to sleep.
We’ll see what normal we find.