I love weddings. They put me right back to that day more than 7 years ago when I married my best friend. Weddings are a great reminder of our commitment to each other...they are also usually a pretty good time!
This weekend my sister in law got married. It was a lovely day and a lovely, God-honoring ceremony. I was happy to be a part of the wedding. I was a bridesmaid and Helen was the flower girl. She was adorable. She wouldn't walk down the aisle by herself so Chris had to go with her. All I thought about while watching them walk together was that it will all go by in a flash and before I know it he'll be walking her down another aisle...at her own wedding.
During the reception a bunch of toasts were made. One of the groomsmen (he was one of the groom's brothers) made a bunch of nice comments and then said that Jason (the groom) has always been great but that when he started dating Jen (the bride) he became Super Jason. What a lovely statement! He is better with her than without. It made me wonder: is Chris SUPER Chris because of me? Or do I drag him down. A thought to ponder...and another great thing about this weekend's wedding.
Patrick is teething. He may not actually get a tooth for months still but he is definitely working on it. So, he's irritable lately. That's not a lot of fun, especially because he is at his most irritable right around the time that Chris gets home from work. What a thing to come home to...a frazzled wife trying to cook dinner, a bored toddler tired of her brother's crying and a screaming baby. I try to remember that Chris has been working all day...even though I'm also ready for a break!
Patrick is a breastfed baby. I nursed Helen for 16 months and will probably do something similar with Patrick. Helen essentially weaned herself and I think I'll let Patrick lead the way when it is time. For some reason he's been rejecting my right side lately. If I try to feed him on the right he gets stiff as a bored and pulls away. He'll cry and cry and then as soon as I switch to the left side he calms right down and starts eating. I'm not sure why he is doing this...maybe it is related to teething. Perhaps something about the way he lays on the right bothers him? Hmm...I don't know. Thankfully, he'll usually eat on the right a few times a day so I'm not too engorged (or lop-sided!).
We are also semi-co-sleeping with Patrick, much like we did with Helen. I never thought I'd be the type to co-sleep. Before I had kids I really just couldn't understand why people did that. Now I get it. Really , a big part of me just believes that babies aren't meant to be away from their mothers for the first year or so. I just think they need that extra comfort and attention.
Patrick naps in his crib and he usually starts the night out in the crib. But at 1 or 2 he wakes for his middle of the night feeding and I bring him to our bed then. Partly this is because I am really not good at the lost sleep part of parenting an infant. Partly this is because Patrick really only likes to sleep on his stomach and that makes Chris nervous. He'd rather have the baby in bed with us than keep him on his stomach all night. Partly this is because Patrick sleeps so well when he is beside me.
I remember when Helen was a baby. I fought the co-sleeping thing. I spent night after sleepless night trying to get her to sleep in her crib. She just did not like the crib. So, it was either sleep in the recliner with her in my arms or put her beside me in bed. We finally gave up on the crib when she was one. We got a toddler bed and she actually slept pretty well in that...but she still ended up in our bed sometime in the middle of the night. This went on until she was around 2 or so. Now she's nearly 3 and she happily sleeps the night away in her own bed.
In the grand scheme of things, sharing a bed with a baby for 2 years isn't that big of a deal. And it is something I kind of enjoy. I love the weight of a baby by my side. I love how he bangs my side with his head when he's rooting around in the middle of the night. I love that I feel so much more rested in the morning when I haven't had to get up multiple times for a baby.
This is what works for us. Obviously, it wouldn't work for everyone. That's my parenting philosophy in a nutshell: find what works for you and do it. Who cares what anyone else says?
This is a post I've been thinking about a lot but I've been hesitant to write it. Really it is just me thinking out loud (in writing, I guess). I'm trying to make sure I don't give a wrong impression about who I am and how I discipline.
Before we had kids I didn't think I wanted to spank my kids. I don't like the idea of corporal punishment and I don't like being the administrator of that kind of punishment. Hitting doesn't solve anything and I don't want to teach my kids to hit. So, I didn't think I would spank my kids.
Then I had kids. Helen is a lovely, intelligent child who loves to push her boundaries. Sometimes no amount of saying no will stop her from doing what she shouldn't be doing. Sometimes the only way to get her attention is to spank her. She's not yet three. Taking away privileges doesn't really work, it isn't immediate enough and, plus, there aren't a lot of things I could take away from her that wouldn't also be punishing myself in some way. I like taking her to the park, for example, so taking that away from her, which would be a punishment, would also be taking away from my quality time with her and a nice time away from the house. That's not really what I'm trying to accomplish with discipline.
Back to spanking. Sometimes when she is being her almost-3-year-old temper-tantrum-throwing self I find myself getting angry or frustrated. But I don't want to spank her because I am angry or frustrated. My purpose in spanking is to correct bad behavior. But how do I get that message across and not the don't make mommy mad or she'll spank you message?
This is one difficult thing about being the parent who is with the children most. I end up doing the vast majority of the disciplining because I am the person here when behavior issues crop up. My husband works a lot. When he comes home Helen is thrilled to have her daddy home and acts like sunshine and flowers. Sometimes she does not have her best behavior on for me. I don't want to be the mean parent. I want to be the fun parent! I also refuse to wait until daddy comes home to deal with discipline issues. Doing that doesn't address the issue when it needs to be addressed and it also turns daddy's homecoming into something to be afraid of. I don't want that.
Patrick Roscoe Williams March 26, 2009 8lbs 13 oz 21.5 inches
Helen spent the last month of my pregnancy pulling my shirt up and screaming at my belly button, “come out baby brother.”We installed the baby’s car seat and Helen would sit back there and cry “I want the baby there.”Oh, I wanted him there too.I was just waiting for him to make his entrance.
I had been induced with my daughter and was determined to try and wait for nature to take its course this time around.At 37 weeks when my doctor checked my cervix I was already dilated to 2 centimeters.Alright, I thought, this one’s coming soon.38 weeks came and went with no baby.39 weeks, no baby.At my 40 week appointment my blood pressure suddenly spiked.My doctor thought my baby was getting pretty big.He asked me to think about induction.I was ready so I agreed and we scheduled an induction for a week later.I thought I wouldn’t really need that appointment…surely I’d go in to labor on my own.
Well, that week went by and it was one of the longest weeks of my life.Every night I sat in my recliner timing contractions that never got serious.Every night I thought it would be my daughter’s last day as an only child.Every night I was disappointed.
Chris woke me up at 5 am on March 26, 2009, the day of my appointment.We were supposed to check in at the hospital by 6 and had to get a move on.I showered and got things ready.Then I cried.I changed my mind.I didn’t want a second child.I was going to miss my Helen.Clearly the hormones were running that morning!We said goodbye to my mother in law and told her to tell Helen that we love her and that we’d come home with her brother soon!
When we got to the hospital we went through all the check in stuff.I got an IV put in and changed in to that fashionable gown they give you.My doctor came in at around 7 and broke my water.We hoped that rupturing the membranes would get my labor going and I wouldn’t have to have pitocin or other labor-enhancing drugs.Chris and I started walking the halls of the hospital.We walked for a couple of hours but I wasn’t really having any contractions…at least none to speak of.At 10 my doctor came back around and suggested starting a small dose of pit.I agreed…I just wanted to get this baby here.
I really wanted to soldier through without an epidural this time.I had an epidural with Helen and I hated it.I don’t like the way they make me feel, I don’t like being numb, I just don’t like it.When my doctor came back at around 1 pm, though, I was still only dilated to 3 cm and thought it was likely to be a long time before my baby made his entrance.The contractions were super strong and I caved in and asked for the epidural.
The anesthesiologist took a while to get there so I didn’t actually get the epi until 2:30 or so.I felt a little better after it was in but was also disappointed that I’d given in.Still, the relief gave me some rest, which was nice.After about an hour I felt a lot of pressure and started getting an incredible urge to push.My nurse didn’t really believe me (I’d been 4 cm when the epi was administered) but I convinced her to check me anyway.She checked and, just as I’d thought, I was 10 cm and the baby was practically crowning!Good thing we checked just then because my doctor was about to go into surgery and wouldn’t have made it if it had been any later!
I pushed for maybe 10 minutes and at 3:57 the most beautiful blonde boy made his way into the world.My hubby and I looked at each other and just knew that the name we’d picked wasn’t going to work out.This was no John, this precious one was Patrick Roscoe. He is named Patrick after my grandma, Patricia, and Roscoe after my grandpa, John Roscoe. We were so thrilled to meet him and think he is a perfect addition to our family!Helen loves him too.
I am so blessed to be married to a wonderful man. He is a way better husband than I deserve. This weekend, though, I am focusing on what an awesome father he is. I cannot imagine anyone better to raise children with. He comes home every evening after a long day working looking for Helen. The second he walks in the door he greets me and then scoops Helen up and takes her outside or upstairs or where-ever. This gives them a little bit of special daddy/daughter time and also helps get her out of my hair while I'm preparing dinner. She really looks forward to it. I know he will someday include Patrick in this special time as well.
Helen gets to ride the four wheeler with her daddy. She helps him paint and spackle and dry-wall when he's working on projects around the house. They do all the gardening and yard work together. Helen experiences a lot of things with Daddy that she would never get to experience with me...they just aren't things I do and they play together in ways I don't play.
Except during harvest or spring work season when he has to work late, daddy puts Helen to bed. They have a special time talking as she's going to sleep and he always prays with her. I hope that the secure relationship Helen has with her daddy will help her develop a deeper relationship with her heavenly father.
Chris is also fantastic with Patrick. When he was first born, Chris would get up with Patrick in the middle of the night...just bringing him to me for feedings. This helped me recover but was also a special time of bonding for father and son. Now Patrick only gets up once or twice and I take care of him but if he has an especially rough night, Chris is happy to take his turn walking the floors with him. Chris loves our babies, even when it seems like all they want is mommy (as is often the case with infants).
Happy father's day to the father of my children. I am so grateful for you!
I've been thinking a lot about healthcare reform lately. Not because I've been paying much attention to the news. Honestly, I haven't. I have two kids, a husband, books to read, etc. I don't have time to pay a lot of attention to political wrangling. And I don't really care that much anyway.
Still, I think something needs to be done about our healthcare system. The past few months I've seen bill after bill after bill for expenses related to having a baby. My husband's employer is a relatively small family farm. We are extremely lucky to have health insurance but it's not the best insurance in the world and we have to shoulder a fairly significant burden when it comes to medical expenses. I am grateful for the coverage we have, please don't read this as complaining. Still, we've so far spent more than $3000 for a complication-free, natural, vaginal delivery plus prenatal care. And the bills are still rolling in.
This seems too much to me. I'm happy to pay my doctor. He was fabulous, very caring and wonderful. His bill actually doesn't bother me...he earned every penny. The bill that bothers me is the hospital bill. Really, it cost that much for me to spend one night in the hospital? Seems like a lot.
Now, I know there are other options. We could have had a home birth. But my doctor (who, again, is wonderful and I trust) wouldn't have done it. And my husband wouldn't have been comfortable with that. But we did everything right. I'm healthy. I've had two fairly easy pregnancies and normal deliveries and healthy babies. What would we do if something (God forbid) had gone wrong? How would we afford our portion of a catastrophe? And we have a decent income and okay savings stashed away. What do people without those things do?
One thing I think would help is if people knew in advance what things would cost. There is no price list available so it's hard to save for known medical expenses. Plus, if there were price lists then I could shop around...there are three hospitals close to us, maybe one of the other ones would have cost less. Since I know they are all fine hospitals then having that kind of cost information available could be very helpful. I'll stop rambling because I don't know how to solve this problem. Something needs to happen. I just don't know what.
For some reason, I find summer the most difficult season in terms of cooking food my husband enjoys. Part of the problem is that we have a real difference of opinion about what is good to eat during the summer. I am happy with vegetables and fruits and rarely actually cooking anything. My husband, on the other hand, rarely feels satisfied if a meal doesn't include some kind of meat (and preferably potato).
Obviously, I grill a lot during the summer because I really hate turning the oven on. Still, you can only have steak, hamburgers, grilled chicken, etc so many times. I need more salad ideas...things that would satisfy both of us. I also really wish he would start liking shrimp because I love shrimp on the grill. Yum.
Good things about summer food: veggies fresh from the garden, canning extra produce for winter consumption, the weekly farmer's market, buckets of fresh peas Chris brings home from work, watermelon, lemonade, homemade ice cream. Summer is pretty yummy.
I've noticed lately that my feelings about my body seem to change depending on what I choose to wear that morning. I'm saying this out loud right now to remind myself that choosing that particular pair of jeans will not make for a good day. Choosing that other pair of jeans will make for a great day. It's strange, I know, especially since the jeans are the exact same size. They have just enough of a difference, though, to make a significant difference in my mood.
So, I'm 11 weeks post-partum. I'm actually below my pre-pregnancy weight right now and I'm pretty sure I'm still losing weight. This is a good thing. I was overweight before and I'd definitely like to weigh less. But, even though I've lost weight compared to pre-pregnancy, my body is different. It won't ever be the same. I carried a second child for 9 months. I birthed an 8 lb 13 oz bundle of joy. I'm changed and it is good. But, boy, I wish my butt was smaller ;).
I tend to have unrealistic expectations. I expect to lose weight while eating lots of ice cream. I want to have the body I had when I was 19 but the life I have now. These things do not go together. My body is fantastic. My husband loves it, love handles and all. It is powerful enough to give birth. It is soft enough to comfort a crying infant. It is miraculous enough to breastfeed a baby while holding a toddler and reading a story. It does good work and I love it...even if it doesn't look like one of the girls on the cover of a magazine.
