Being a mom without being a mom

I've blogged before, a few years ago, about my perspective of motherhood through being an aunt.  I feel like I have a unique situation that is often undervalued or under-minded by people who might not fully understand.  I'm not just an aunt.  I have dealt with the good and the bad.  I've spent sleepless nights with a sick child and I've spent days on the couch just trying to make it to bedtime.  I have more experience with children than a lot of people I know who actually have children.  But I'm not a mother. 

This brings me to my nephew, JD.  

Seriously though. He is the cutest.

I can't even begin to explain this kid to you.  He's funny and smart and so cute. He talks ALL THE TIME and he says the strangest, funniest things.  

Last weekend, my mom and dad went to my sister's house to stay with her boys while my sister and her husband attended a conference.  My sister had the boys paint wooden spoons as a Mother's Day gift for my mom.  JD got the spoons and gave them to my mom and, unprompted, said, "These are for Mother's Day. There are two for you and two for Zizi!"  I'm Zizi.  My mom came home and told me this and I just about lost it.  I had to text my sister immediately and thank her for sharing him with me.

Mother's Day isn't my favorite.  It reminds me of my Grandmother who passed away.  It reminds me that there are things in this life that I have always wanted that I don't yet have and that I have very little (if any) control over whether I will ever get those things.  

But then JD comes along.  He always thinks of me.  Not because someone else has prompted him, but because he loves me and because, through some stroke of luck, he and I just get each other.  This all sounds so sappy, but it's important.  It's important and meaningful for me to see that I have actually impacted his life, and the lives of my other nephews and niece, the way he has impacted mine.  It's important to feel this connection, which is so close to feeling like a mother without actually being a mother, and helps me feel like I am doing something good in my life.  It validates the time and energy I devote to helping raise my sister's kids.  It makes me feel so good.

JD is proof that you can be a mom without being a mom.  There are people out there, not just children, who need the kind of love and support only a mother can provide, even if it's just for a short while.  Unconditional love, a shoulder to cry on, a place to turn during good times and bad times.  That's what a mom is there for and that is something everyone is capable of providing.

First Pregnancy vs. Second Pregnancy

Guess what guys? I'm pregnant!

I feel like I'm a little late to the party, since I'm the fourth in line to deliver of the currently pregnant Lovely authors. (Amanda is seriously about to deliver any day!)

Pregnancy is weird, but it's a totally different weirdness the second time around, and some of the weirdness is just due to the fact that you've done it all before, and it's just not that weird any more. Here are some examples of the way my first pregnancy and my second are differing so far.

• First: Rushed out to buy a pregnancy test the SECOND I thought it was possible I was "late."
  Second: After a few false alarms due to postpartum breastfeeding confusion, I waited for over a week after I was pretty sure to go and buy the test. I was still really excited, but those things are like $7 apiece and I didn't want to waste any more money on them until I was pretty sure it was for real!
• First: Immediately pulled up that scene from I Love Lucy where Ricky sings "We're Having a Baby, My Baby and Me" and then finds out he's the one whose wife is trying to tell him she's pregnant and I BAWLED.
  Second: Did a little jumping up and down, but was in the middle of dealing with giving my daughter antibiotics for a staph infection and getting ready to move in two days, so there just wasn't a lot of time to sit around and bask in the glow of pregnancy. 
• First: So. Much. Vomit. For like 19 weeks. (Okay, this probably isn't everyone's experience. Sorry.)
  Second: Less vomit. Lots of general yuckiness. Later onset of symptoms. Lots of predictions that I'm having a boy this time since my symptoms are different. (Also, stomach flu, which made up for the less vomit over the course of a couple of days. Ugh.) 
• First: Took my prenatal vitamins for MONTHS before and religiously every day during my pregnancy. Checked all of the lists of things to avoid and was terrified of hot tubs, cold cuts, tuna, and about 25 other things that were on various lists.
  Second: Tried really hard to remember to take my vitamins. Remembered most days. Wondered what on earth I was so freaked out about last time. Why was I even looking at those lists? But did make sure that if I ate sushi, it was cooked. 
• First: Immediately started researching cribs, mattresses, strollers, car seats, nursery ideas, quilt patterns, and childrearing methods. Read ALL THE BOOKS and the blogs and the pregnancy calendars and so on and so forth.
  Second: Well, I've already got the crib and the carseat . . . I suppose if it had been a boy he'd need some clothes, but since we just found out it's another girl, she can wear hand me downs for awhile . . . and as for the nursery, I'm mostly concerned about how we'll fit two beds in the kids' room of our two bedroom apartment. I can worry about decorations a little later on, like when she is ready to move in with big sister a few months after she is born. (Probably before that when nesting goes into full swing - but I'm not obsessively pinning things this time.) 
• First: Really, really want that nicely defined baby bump to show up quickly so people wouldn't just think I was getting chubby.
  Second: Remembering how miserable carrying that baby bump was toward the end, I am in no hurry for it to pop out. There was no greater relief than being able to bend over to pick something up without wanting to die, once baby number one was born. (Also, has anyone else noticed that something about having kids makes you less concerned about your own appearance? I mean, I care, but I have gone out with spit up on my shoulder because I was too busy checking the diaper bag to check the mirror more times than I can say . . .) 
• First: Really concerned about getting stretch marks. Listened very careful to all tips about how to avoid them. Thought I had avoided them only to have them pop out in the home stretch.
  Second: Hahahahahahahaha. (Seriously though. Stretch marks are not that big of a deal. Especially if you, like me, have no desire to wear a bikini, but also just generally. Meh. They look scary when they pop put, but mine faded quite a lot and they just don't bother me.
• First: Broke out the maternity clothes WAY too early. 
Second: Holding off on the maternity clothes as long as humanly possible, because I remember how freaking tired of them I was by the time I delivered that baby. 

What do you think? Any of this sounding familiar to any of you? Any tips for the second baby coming up? 

How I Learned to Make Dolls (Plus an Unsolicited Plug for Wee Wonderfuls)

For my daughter's first Christmas, I really wanted to make her a doll. I'm not sure why this desire was so strong (although it was probably partly because we were kind of poor and partly because my friend Becky had just posted some doll hair tutorials and some really beautiful dolls that she'd made, and I wanted to be as cool as she is).

The problem was I couldn't really sew. All the tutorials you can find require some kind of knowledge of special stitches and junk like that, and I just couldn't quite figure out what they were talking about. I finally settled on a tutorial for a Black Apple doll for that first attempt. She was cute, but if you looked closely, she was barely holding together. The seams were shabby, the limbs were sewn on badly, I didn't know how to do a ladder stitch so I couldn't make the stitches invisible, etc. I made her a scarf to cover up the mistakes I made sewing her head on. Luckily, CB was only 5 months old and not very discerning.

Despite my only sort of successful attempt, I really enjoyed the process of turning unloved fabric scraps into something cute and lovable. I really wanted to learn to do it well, and I wanted to learn in time for the day when my daughter would have opinions about how they should look. A few months later, after reading lots of reviews and doing lots of searching around for something that I thought would be easy enough for my skill level without being boring,  I ordered Wee Wonderfuls: 24 Dolls to Sew and Love because it had some tutorials on how to do the actual stitches and had lots of different patterns so I could learn some different skills and hopefully start customizing a little someday.

Over the next few months I pulled out scraps here and there and put together a few toys that CB really loves.

 I had to make this bear by hand because I was afraid of trying to sew this fuzzy stuff in my sewing machine. He was made from the leftovers from the less-successful crib covers that I made for my daughter's crib so she wouldn't chew on it. (She still does, but she likes this bear, and the covers make it less evident that the crib looks like a beaver got to it.) He was much cuter when he was new than he is now. She chewed off his nose as well.

Kitty's face took a couple of attempts and her tiny dress was a struggle, but she is well-loved now, despite her terrible seams. I have re-attached her head and legs once, and the head is starting to look a bit loose again. 

These sleepover pals have crazy wide-set eyes, but they get hauled all over the place. CB gives them to her bigger dolls so they can have babies. 

So after I'd made a few of these projects, I really wanted something I could customize a bit more. I downloaded another pattern (again from Wee Wonderfuls because I'd had good luck with her patterns in the book and had been drooling over her amazing doll hair for more than a year) and made a doll to match CB's Easter dress using the scraps. 

A side note: sewing round things (like heads) is hard. Now that I've done three of these dolls it's a little less intimidating, but good heavens it was scary the first time. 

The tricky part about making a doll for a toddler is that they know before you even make it into an actual doll what the parts are going to be, and then they steal the doll before you are finished. I've given up on hiding this baby until Easter. 

Doing the doll hair is fast becoming my favorite part of this process. It's lots of painstaking pinning and stitching (which took some time to figure out, especially the first time around - eventually I kind of sewed out from the center like spokes of a wheel to do the back of the head) but I love the results and the process of making it come together.

I used this brief tutorial and many others I'd been reading on this website and others to get this hair style.  I was going for this look. 

Faces are still a work in progress for me. I didn't like how the ones on the pattern were turning out for me, so I did my own. I want to play with the look a little more, but my limited embroidery skills make trying out anything fancy on a finished doll when a mistake could ruin the whole thing pretty terrifying. 

After finishing CB's doll, I made these big sister/little sister dolls for a friend who has a 5 year old and is expecting another little girl. Keeping them away from CB was extra tricky. 

Little sister's hair came from this tutorial, big sister's from this picture, because by then I had kind of figured out how to make it work. My doll's hair turned out totally different because the yarn was a different texture, but I think I ultimately decided I like it. 

I never could decide whether or not these ladies needed noses, so in the end I left them off. 

CB is now in the throes of major stuffed animal love, and she ADORES these babies and animals, especially the latest one. She makes them dance and hauls them all over the house, and I love the feeling of knowing I made her something that she enjoys - especially because I made pretty much all of them out of leftover scraps from various projects my mom and I have worked on over the years. I like using little bits of old projects to make something new. 

Mostly though, I love that I can still learn new things. Three plus years out of college, sometimes it feels like I am stagnating, even though I know I'm learning a lot about taking care of children, and I still read and learn things every day. It's nice to feel like I can pick up a new skill just because I decide to do it, and I can create something that makes me and at least one tiny person happy, and I can make actual, visible progress at something. 

What new things are you learning to do? (And if you decide to learn to make dolls and want to talk about it, shoot me a comment or an email!) 

Guest Post: Kristi's Five Fantastical Lessons on Life

Today's guest post is by Kristi, Meg's totally awesome sister-in-law. She lives in Texas and is a computer programmer, but she's also an awesome chef, a sci-fi fan, and a mom to a very cute toddler. She and Megan sometimes post recipes on Sisters-in-Long, although not lately (probably Megan's fault for being lazy about taking food pictures). Enjoy! 

I had this fantastic opportunity to stay home with my baby for the first few months of her life, and I loved absolutely every minute. I’ve worked consistently since I was fourteen, so a chance to set my own schedule, have all the laundry clean at the same time, and to take a nap every day was sort of like a home-run for me. Then, suddenly and without warning (pause for dramatic effect), two horrible things happened! I had to return to work AND my child stopped sleeping for 20 hours a day.

As you may imagine, the inevitable happened – gone was the closet of clean laundry, gone were the carefully sculpted meals with coordinating desserts, gone were the (it must be said) naps. Let’s all take a moment of silence for the downfall of my beloved naps. …. Very quickly, I had to learn to adapt to my increased time constraints in order to avoid drowning in my husband’s dirty socks. I’m actually kidding about the dirty socks -he rarely wears socks. The following are five lessons I learned the hard way that are applicable to all of us, regardless of where we are in our lives:

1. Plan to Fail
I know people generally plan in order to succeed, but one day, you’re going to be [sick|cold|tired|busy|bored|angry|sad|hungry|purple|allergic to everything|late|the other kind of late|generally unwilling to keep calm and carry on]. It is going to happen. In these moments of weakness, we tend to blow budgets on conveniences, fall behind on housework, and generally don’t function as we might otherwise. The key is to prepare for these times of need. Do the laundry before you need it. Keep a stack of paper plates and silverware in case of “If I have to do dishes, I will have to start kicking people” moments. Hide chocolate in places no one else in the family will look (like the bottom of a box of feminine products). When you cook, try to think of ways to use leftovers to reduce your kitchen time – our chicken fajita leftovers go into a jar of curry for Indian food the next night. Leftover roasted chicken becomes chicken salad. This tip leads directly into the next:

2. The Freezer is your Best Friend
I know you thought it was that friend you’ve been through hail and high water with, but you are completely wrong. Can your friend have dinner on your table in about fifteen minutes? Probably not. Your freezer, however, is there for you in your time of greatest need. Keep at least two freezer meals on hand, and it will actually be faster than making a run to the nearest fast food place. For my family, it’s frozen turkey meatballs for spaghetti and delicious breakfast sausage for ‘breakfast for dinner’. I don’t plan to make either of these meals, but I know that any given day is going to turn into a nightmare, so it’s good to know that the freezer has my back. Also, ice cream.

3. Nobody cares if your House is Dirty 
And if they do care, you shouldn’t care about them. I’m serious. Take them off the Christmas card list, defriend them on Facebook, and otherwise pretend they don’t exist. Very rarely are all of the rooms in my house clean simultaneously. They get cleaned, yes, but on a rotating schedule. For some people, this is a sign of failure, a sign that the world is ending. To those people, I have this to say: stop. Just stop. Take a deep, relaxing breath, and let go of your 1950’s photo-opportunity home. If it is making you ill to get it, if your children are being ignored in pursuit of magazine cleanliness – let it go. Housework is important, but let’s all be a little more Zen about it. If you are able to successfully juggle all of your commitments AND keep a spotless home, well, shut up – no one likes you anyway and we all talk about you behind your back.

4. Be Honest with Yourself 
I have an ‘Almost No Crafts’ policy. People are sometimes taken aback by this. I’ll go to a church or social function with crafts, and I will often refuse to participate and opt to sit around and chat and do nothing. The reason is simple – if it isn’t a craft I can finish in a short time span, I KNOW I will never finish it. Ever. It will sit in a closet and fill me with guilt and anger and hatred, and I will rue the sight of pom poms and pipe cleaners and reclaimed toilet paper rolls. I derive no joy from the craft itself and frustration from incomplete ones – so I rarely, rarely craft. In so doing, I have freed myself from a needless time suck and sore spot in my life – Pinterest be darned.

We all have things like this in our life. Maybe it’s starting a reorganization project you know you won’t finish, or redoing a bathroom. Perhaps it’s an exercise class you rarely attend, vegetables you buy because they are healthy but you hate, or sending Christmas cards to the people you stopped caring about in Item 3. Be honest – if something isn’t adding value to your life, and more especially if it’s costing money, time, or happy thoughts, let it go. 

5. Opportunity Cost is Still Cost
We all need peace. People who don’t find peace generally end up on the evening news, and not in positive stories. In an accounting class, we learned about opportunity cost – the value/cost you miss out on by doing something else. If you have chocolate cake instead of ice cream, that delicious bowl of frozen goodness was your opportunity cost. If you decide to take a nap instead of going out with your friends, the fun bonding time with your girlfriends was the opportunity cost. Get it?

 If you start looking at your life in terms of opportunity cost, you can become better equipped to make decisions. Yes – that home-cooked kale vegan something or other meal would be healthier for your family than meatballs and spaghetti, but if you’ve had a horrible day or are generally tired, think about the opportunity cost. Kale (which I love btw) or extra time to read stories with your toddler? Maybe the toddler time will add more value to your life. Kale (I really do love it, I’m not lying) or non-relaxing time watching crap on television? Maybe the kale (still loving it) is a better use of your time.

 I can’t tell you what’s more important for yourself, but if you take a minute to think about the opportunity cost of your daily activities, you’ll do a better job of getting some of that much-needed peace and making sure your life is filled with value-added activities.

So, there you have it. Five lessons I learned quickly when life sort of threw me in the blender. When all else fails, just emulate the British and Keep Calm and Carry On. Also, ice cream.

Board Book Favorites

I've been reading a lot of board books with my daughter. She loves to look at the pictures and the books are more destruction proof with the thick cardboard pages. Plus they are generally smaller and easier for her to hold because she loves to look through them on her own also. Here are some of our favorites.

This Little Piggy and Other Favorite Action Rhymes by Hannah Wood. We like having all the favorite nursery rhymes and songs plus some new ones. Wood has several books and they are all fun.

 

ZooBorns! Zoo Babies from Around the World by Andrew Bleiman and Chris Eastland. There are lots of unusual animals in here for kids to learn about and anything that is a baby is just cute.

Ten Little Fingers and Ten Little Toes by Mem Fox and Helen Oxenbury. I thought this book was cute, but my daughter absolutely loved it! I think we read it three times in a row without her moving once. She likes pictures of other little toddlers and this has lots of different toddlers from around the world.

The Splendid Spotted Snake by Betty Ann Schwartz. This book is fun because the snake grows and grows with each page turn. It's fun to watch and my daughter liked to feel the ribbon snake.

When the World was Waiting for You by Gillian Shields and Anna Currey. This is a cute book about getting ready for a baby to come, then enjoying the baby with family. It ends with the world waiting for the baby to grow up and be and do something special.

Let's Go to the Farm by Fisher Price. There are lots of flaps to lift in this book that teaches animal names and sounds, and also shapes and colors and farm things.
 

The Belly Button Book by Sandra Boynton. Anything by Sandra Boynton is "serious silliness" (from the back of one of her books. This one is fitting for my daughter who loves her "bee bo" a lot.
 

My First Library by Baby Einstein. This is a great set to have because it teaches shapes, nature, colors, letters, music, and animals with real photos mixed with drawings, and also most have one word per page. They are also the perfect size for little hands to hold and come in a handy carrying case.

10 Books My 1-Year-Old Loves

Perhaps we aren't quite ready for Harry Potter yet, sweetie.

Disclosure: I'm experimenting with the Amazon Affiliate program on this post, which basically means if you click any of these links and buy these books, the blog gets a small percentage. I tell you this not to urge you to buy any of these items, but to tell you that if for some reason you decide to buy any of them, you may as well support the blog at the same time, eh? This did not influence my choice of books and the opinions are entirely my own. And CB's.

I don't know what it is about this age, but suddenly my baby, who at first just kind of tolerated me reading to her or flipped through the pages of one or two books and then headed off, has decided she LOVES books. She goes over to her book shelf, grabs a book, thrusts it toward me (there is really no other word for the way she gives them to me) and then crawls into my lap when I pat it and sits there for half an hour reading book after book. I love that this is part of her developing curiosity, and I hope for many years of reading together.

However, some books are understandably bigger hits than others with the 13-month-old attention span. Here are a few of our favorites right now (most of which have been favorites for at least a month or more).

The Spooky Old Tree by Stan and Jan Berenstain
This book was universally loved by my brothers and me when I was little, and my little one loves it just as much. She especially loves when we get to the little bears with shivers and I make her shiver, and when we do a big chomp as they go up the spooky old stair over the alligator. The text is short enough that she sits through it really well again and again.

I Ain't Gonna Paint No More! by Karen Beaumont
The illustrations in this book are so delightful that it would be hard not to love it just for the joyous color and crazy-looking kid, but the text is so fun and musical, and as the child paints each body part it gets funnier. It's a pure delight, and even my small child loves looking at the colorful pictures and having me tap each part of her as the child gets more covered in paint. "Like an Easter egg, gonna paint my LEG! Now I ain't gonna paint no more!"

The Adventures of Bert by Allan Ahlberg and Raymond Briggs
This bizarre little British book has been a favorite with all of my nieces and nephews, and now CB loves it too. I think the love stems from the first couple of pages where you are introduced to Bert and his wife (Mrs. Bert) and told to say hello to them, but NOT to Baby Bert, who is sleeping. Then you turn the page and wake the baby up, and he cries very loudly. CB loves waving to the Berts and waiting for the cry. Bert has other adventures, like getting stuck in his shirt and being chased by a sausage, but waking up the baby by turning the page has always been the biggest hit.

Mr. Brown Can Moo! Can You?  by Dr. Seuss
Not all Dr. Seuss books are favorites yet, but this one is beloved. She loves the sounds, and when we get to the sound of the hand on a door, she knocks on her head as soon as she sees the picture (because that's what I always do on that page). It is beyond adorable. There's a nice shorter board book version, but she'll usually sit through the whole thing now if I make the sounds exciting enough.

Pride & Prejudice: A BabyLit Counting Primer  by Jennifer Adams
We have about five of these so far, and she loves them all. I think her favorites are a tossup between P&P and Jane Eyre, probably because she quite likes counting books right now, and having me count the things out for her. I have a feeling she'll like Moby Dick more in the future, because it's her daddy's favorite.

Where Is Baby's Belly Button? by Karen Katz
This has actually been one of her favorite books for a long time, and it is now so well-loved that the flaps all have reinforcing tape on them because she's ripped a couple of them and the rest are totally dog-eared. She loves the babies, she loves lifting the flaps, and now she's starting to point to her belly button.

Hand, Hand, Fingers, Thumb by Al Perkins
This book is so fun and rhythmic. I highly recommend using your baby's belly as a drum as you read it. By the time CB was 10 months old, she'd started beating her tummy drum as soon as she saw the cover of this one. I might have it memorized. Maybe. My favorite part is where there are some monkeys saying hello to each other (Hello Jack! Hello Jake!) and when CB started waving, she would wave to the monkeys when they said hello. (Basically, we love a book that invites waving.)

Are You a Cow? by Sandra Boynton
Sandra Boynton is just the best, and I love all of her books (and her CDs!) but we are particularly taken with this one right now because of the big animal faces, the very short text, and the duck. My favorite line is "You are not a hippo. You are small. They are big." It cracks me up for some reason. Maybe you have to be there.

Fuzzy Yellow Ducklings by Matthew Van Fleet
This was a gift from my mom, and it is delightful, but not to be perused by a solo baby, as it is a little fragile. However, she is in love with the fun illustrations, the folding pages, and the delightful textures. The sticky frog tongues and the sandpapery sharks are my favorite, but CB loves the wooly lamb.

Hug by Jez Alborough
We picked this book up on a whim from a zoo gift shop because the little monkey's name is Bobo, which is what we called our baby until we picked her real name. (I think this came about because my husband suggested "Jimbo" as a possible baby name, and I told him that was a monkey name. He said, "No, no, you're thinking of Bobo." Thankfully, we had a girl and put off that discussion a little longer.) The illustrations in this book are so adorable, and the only words in the book are "Hug," and the monkeys' names, but the story of a little monkey looking for his mommy is still kind of touching and sweet. I'm excited to read it as CB gets older and can try to figure out what's going on in the story for herself.

10 months old, reading with Daddy 

What are your favorite books for little ones? 

The Silent Thief: Motherhood, Depression, and Finding Myself

Today's blogger prefers to remain anonymous. 

When I had my son, 3 years ago, he was sick and early and had to stay at the hospital for a while. It was HORRIBLE, but as soon as he was home we easily got into a groove and life was perfect.

While I was pregnant with my daughter, I was really sick and uncomfortable.  So when she was born I hoped and prayed that things would get back to normal.  Happy, crazy, busy, fun, and normal.  But it didn't.  I figured it was just the stress of two kids, or that I was tired, or my husband was gone too much, or whatever.  After months and months, it didn't get better.  I just kind of adjusted. I figured motherhood with two children was just that hard.  I thought, "There is no way I could EVER have more. This is too much!"  I never had energy to do anything, I couldn't handle going anywhere without my husband, and we never left our apartment.

Finally, just before my daughters first birthday, I recognized that I was not okay, that something had to be fixed. I talked to my wonderful husband, we called the employee support line, and they referred me to a therapist.  It took me a few weeks to call her and then I almost chickened out of the appointment.  When I finally went, she was late.  I got in the car and almost drove away,  but I somehow got the courage to go back in.

And it was great.  She let me talk, I cried, she understood, and she told me I was depressed. I thought "No, I am not depressed, have you seen my kids? And have you met my husband? I have NOTHING to be depressed about!" So we discussed what depression really is, and I learned that you can have a perfectly happy life, and still be depressed. Chemical imbalances in your brain cause you to not be you, to be angry and sad and stressed all the time.  I learned that depression is a real medical condition and it was very humbling for me.  I was of the "you can handle it, just work through it, depression isn't that bad, or really real" school of thought. I was so wrong.

At first she thought it was my thyroid, which had been diagnosed as being under-productive a few years earlier.  I went to an endocrinologist and he told me my thyroid was fine.  I had been misdiagnosed.  I had been taking meds for years for something that wasn't wrong.  I stopped taking them, and felt a little better.  But it still wasn't right. The endocrinologist referred me to a psychiatrist, and I called after a few weeks.  They were so busy they couldn't see me for 3 months. I told them not to worry about it.  I then waited another week, and looked up a different one.  I called pretty quickly, and they said they could see me the next week.

I was very nervous to say the least.  I had been finding ways to put off dealing with it every way I could. I felt so weak, and like I was at fault. I worried that my husband would think he didn't make me happy. I worried that I must be the worst mother ever because I didn't find enough joy in my children.  I worried that I would go and they would say to me "It's all in your head, grow up,  you're fine you big whiner."  I went and he was the nicest guy.  He knew how I felt before I could even explain it.

Apparently, I had a classic text book version of depression.  There are 3 kinds of depression. Mine was chemical rather than situational.  I agreed to try taking medication and went home. I took it for 4 days and I noticed a HUGE difference. For the first time in a year I felt like a real person again. It was bright outside again, I wanted to play with my children.  You know the movie Tangled?  She sings  "And at last I see the light, and it's like a fog has lifted." (You just sang that, didn't you?)  As cheesy and rehearsed as that sounds, it was exactly how I felt.  I couldn't believe it.  It wasn't a magic cure-all and I have still had to deal with my emotions, but it was great.

My doctor told me I had undiagnosed Postpartum depression that had just gotten worse and worse. He said that PPD is often referred to as the "silent thief of motherhood joy" (or any joy, really)  and that so many women suffer from it, but never know or seek help. So many women are missing out on the wonderful happiness that you can feel when your body is working the way it was intended to work.  It's really scary for me to share this story, because it's SO very easy to think, "I am so weak, I should be better/stronger/bigger than this."  I am working through that, and I do believe there is a medical cause for it, but it's so easy to slip into that.

To the thoughts of insecurity and not being good enough. It's the easiest thing to listen to someone who doesn't think depression is real, and to feel like less than a whole person for being so weak. I have learned that depression is a real condition, and it can be helped, just like any other illness. It is very real.  It is not just in your head. You are not alone if you are depressed, it is something so many people struggle with. Don't suffer alone.  It's not your fault.  It can be better.

It is scary and hard to admit a weakness.  Everyone feels that. No one likes to admit that they are weak at something, that they are less than they want to be in some way.  But you need to know that any problem or illness you have can be dealt with. For me it was depression and I had to find my path to treatment and ultimately working through it and being happy again.  No matter what it is you are going through, you are never alone.  Sometimes the hardest thing to do is ask for help.  But it makes all
the difference. If you have no strength left, find enough to ask someone else for help. Let them help you, let them give you some strength, you can do it. You can be happy again. I am.

Being Good Enough

A couple of months ago, I was having one of those nights that I'm pretty sure most new mothers have at least once every couple of weeks. (Actually, I'm not sure how long this period lasts, but I'm pretty sure right now I can still lump it officially in with normal baby blues.) I was sobbing to my husband about how I was failing at everything and not doing enough, and I hated that I could never get everything done, and who knows when the last time I managed to vacuum was, and now that the baby is crawling she'll probably find something I didn't vacuum up off the floor and choke on it, but she's just so clingy right now and she hates the noise of the vacuum, and so on and so forth.

And after I'd collected myself a little, my kind husband said, "Meg. Think about what you did today. You got up and nursed the baby. You ate breakfast. We played with the baby. You worked on your lesson for church tomorrow. You nursed the baby again. You took half an hour off to read a book while the baby napped. We went to babysit your brother's kids. You came back, put the baby to bed, finished working on your lesson, and cleaned up the kitchen. Just when were you going to do something else?"

He then went on to tell me that if I was feeling overwhelmed and he wasn't, clearly we needed to reexamine our division of labor. (For the record, my husband is a rock star. He cooks dinner at least as often as I do, is great about taking care of the baby, changes his share of diapers when he isn't at work, and is really good about picking up after himself and doing the dishes without me nagging him about it. I wasn't feeling overwhelmed because he is a bum - just because we're still figuring our lives out.) We talked about adjustments we could make to help me feel more in control of my life, but also talked about how ultimately, I might also need to adjust my expectations about what success entails at this point in my life.

Because honestly, I'm still pretty new at this whole, "My life revolves around a tiny person now" thing. I don't know why I assumed that less than a year in I should have the whole thing figured out. When my daughter is learning something new, I never get frustrated at her because she doesn't do it perfectly at first. I clapped for her the first time she rolled over, even though it took another two months before she could do it on purpose every time. I watched with delight as she tried to sit up and would fold in half and tip over while she tried to grab her feet. I relished her ridiculously ungraceful army crawl with her legs flying in the air for no apparent reason. And then one day, she suddenly had all of these skills mastered.

Except it wasn't sudden, because it took weeks of less-successful practice before she figured out that skill. And now she'll move on to learning to walk and talk and pee in a toilet and a myriad of other skills that she will take some time to master, and I will celebrate her progress along the way - not just when she's totally grown up and has her act together.

So why don't I celebrate my own growth the same way? I may not get the vacuuming done very regularly right now, but I am very good at making my baby laugh. I've figured out how to make baby food; nursing is something that has become completely second nature; I read my baby's cues and know when she is tired, hungry, overstimulated, or just lonesome for Mommy. I've gotten very good at a lot of things that I didn't have a single clue about twelve months ago. And right now, that's more than good enough.

Wishes

To my baby girl on her first birthday:

A year ago, you were placed in my arms all tiny and wrinkly and screaming, and I was shaking so hard that I had to give you back to your dad after a minute because 1) I had just given birth like two seconds before, 2) apparently epidurals give you the residual shakes, especially when you push the button for the first time right after the baby is born because 3) you need some stitches and the epidural wasn't that strong so you can feel said stitches, causing you to squeeze your tiny baby a little harder than your new mother self feels is safe.

Anyway.

Once the shakiness and stitching were over, I got to hold you again. You hadn't had a bath yet, so your hair was still a little sticky and your eyes had that goop on them. You had the tiniest little lips and the tiniest little nose and the tiniest little fingers, and after months of crazy pregnancy dreams about  you coming out as a toddler with a mouth full of teeth or being born on the floor accidentally, somehow this was more surreal than any of that. You were the little person I'd been wondering about while you elbowed me in the ribs, bounced when I listened to music, kicked when your dad put his hand on my tummy. It was nothing like I imagined it would be and everything I didn't know I wanted it to be, even with the stickiness and goopiness and shakiness. You were so beautiful and amazing, and I didn't know even a tiny fraction of how beautiful and amazing you were actually going to be. I'm sure I still don't.

Alert from the beginning. The smiles came a few weeks later.

The weird thing about waiting for a baby to be born, for me, was that I imagined what you would be like as a newborn, and I imagined what you would be like as an older kid, but I had no idea that what happens during the rest of a baby's first year is the most amazing thing, except possibly what happens to a mother during her first year.

Since you aren't old enough to make wishes for yourself, I thought I'd like to make a few for you. You don't need that much right now, so these are wishes you can save for later.

• I hope that someday you decide to be a mother, and that you get to experience the sheer wonder that comes from looking at a tiny person and seeing elements of yourself and your spouse in her, but also seeing a personality that you know is entirely her own. You can't imagine how incredible it is to realize just how individual a baby is, even at a ridiculously young age. I'm reminded of your individuality whenever we play with other babies or I talk to other mothers and I find myself thinking things like, "Oh, that baby hasn't made up her own dance moves yet, but does give her mom kisses. Fascinating." 
• I hope that you have a husband who is as supportive as your dad is, who may not totally understand how you can feel so much joy and so much frustration with your life at the same time, but who knows that sometimes you need him to tell you to go read a book while he takes the baby and does the dishes, and who supports whatever you decide you need to do to feel like a happy and productive adult, and who trusts your judgment as a mother. I can't imagine what this year would have been like without him. 
• I hope that someday you will understand why I have pictures of your baby self in the snow and the grass and on the merry-go-round and at the beach, even though you will have no memory of any of these things, because you will also feel the need to show your baby all of the wonderful things in the world and experience them through her eyes. 
• I hope that someday your baby will be crying  until the moment that you pick her up, and you'll realize that you are more important to her than you ever realized you could be to anyone. And you'll realize this is right, because she is more important to you than you ever realized was possible too. 
• I hope someday you'll be rocking your baby and suddenly she'll put her head on your shoulder and fall asleep, because your arms are her favorite place to be. 
• I hope that becoming a mother will help you realize just how little it matters whether you have snot all over your favorite shirt, as long as you are there to snuggle your sick child. 
• I hope that having your own child will someday help you realize just how much your own mother loves you. 
• I hope that in spite of all of the wishes I will surely have for you throughout your life, you will always know that I believe in your potential to be anything you want to be. I hope you know that I am here to pick you up when you fall and cheer for you when you succeed.  

Happy birthday, little one. I can't wait to see more of who you're going to become, and what your own wishes will be as you grow up.  

Love,

Mama

I love that you put this on your own head. 

Family Planning: What Would Sweden Do?

Today's guest poster prefers to remain anonymous so that she can share her secret family-planning anxiety without actually having to share it with people who will bug her about it. But we promise, she is awesome. Enjoy!

I have two pretty cool kids. Crazy, fun, usually covered in food and sporting great bed-head throughout most of the day.

A boy. A girl. They each have their own bedroom, a spot around our 4-person dinner table, and a roomy seat in our small car.

So, with everything going so well with two, why not complicate things with maybe one more?
 
I swore upside down and sideways that I would never have another baby. I proclaimed it defiantly to those who thought I was ‘too young’ to make such a final decision! I scheduled a vasectomy for my husband!

(Seriously. He didn’t show up because apparently that’s the kind of appointment he wanted to make for himself. Go figure.)

Let me tell you, contemplating a third child brings up some pretty strange questions. With two kids behind me, I’ve googled everything there is about babies and all that crazy business. Google knows my ovulation cycle.

It knows everything.

So what is there left to contemplate when deciding if tres is your magic number?

Well, everything. Here are the things I’ve typed into that magical search engine just TODAY:

-What is the average number of children per household in Sweden? (I’m really into all things Scandinavian, so I wanted to see how I’d fit in…it’s weird. I know. But at least now it’s all on the table, right?)
-Will my child be crazy if he/she has to share a room? (Apparently many children share rooms and grow up to be mentally stable. A revelation, I tell you!)
-Fitting 3 humongous car seats in the back of a Ford Escape (I did an Image search for this one…it is not possible to safely fit 3 humongous car seats in the back of a Ford Escape.)
-Cool Minivans (Google: Did you mean Un-cool Minivans? Because apparently cool ones don’t exist).

Ok. For that last one, I jest…I’m totally pro-van.

What I’m getting at is, I thought that I’d been through the ringer with two little ones and knew everything there was about anything…but there is always so much more to learn. Even if it isn’t all that useful in helping you make life-changing decisions.

Like the average number of children per family in Sweden is 1.94.

(And that I feel sorry for those .94 children. Round up your statistics! For the sake of the children!)

So maybe I should tell you that really . . . truly . . . I don’t feel like our family is complete just quite yet. Maybe my feelings will change. Maybe we won’t be able to have another baby for some reason.

But for now, I’m trusting my gut and going for #3.

Some Mother's Day Loveliness

A couple of things for your Mother's Day Weekend:

Paige suggested posting this nice Mother's Day video. It's quite warm and fuzzy, and you should share it with your mother and give her a big hug. Mothers do so much for us, and I know that I still go to mine for just about everything.




I also wanted to share this article I re-read this week, called A Mother's Bill of Rights, or Mommy is a Person. I feel like Mother's Day is a rough time for mothers in the thick of it, because there is a lot of putting mothers on a pedestal, and a lot of stories about angelic mothers, and a lot of pictures of mothers who clearly got to spend more than five minutes on their hair today. And hey, I'm not saying they don't deserve to be on a pedestal, but when you feel like you are personally failing because your baby won't nap and won't hold still for diaper changes and there is poop smeared everywhere and you just want to curl up in a ball and cry for a minute, it's nice to remember that besides being a Mother, every mother is a person, and a person is allowed to have bad days, allowed to feel frustrated, allowed to just really want to take a shower, and allowed to buy a Little Caesar's pizza for dinner sometimes.

Happy Mother's Day. :)

A Gaggle of Links

Happy Friday! Thanks for making our first week back so wonderful. We love what's happening here on the blog, and we've got more great posts ready to go up in the coming weeks that we can barely wait to share with you.

In the spirit of love and sharing and community, we want to finish up the week by sharing some links that we've loved on other sites around the internet lately. Enjoy!

This beautiful post from alphamom about being the helpers (based on the Mr. Rogers quote that's been going around all week) was just so perfect in the aftermath of Boston this week. I hope I raise a kid who is one of the helpers, and I hope she sees me as one.

If you haven't read the Drops of Awesome post at Daring Young Mom, you should. It will change the way you feel about yourself and think about your day.

This is a really interesting post about the Dove Real Beauty video we posted earlier this week. It makes some good points. Yes, we do undervalue ourselves, and yes, we don't see our true beauty. But this is a good reminder that our physical beauty is not the most important thing about us.

Watch this video called How to be 2. It is adorable and will make you happy.

I love this list of 6 Tips for Raising Strong Daughters. It's not earth-shattering, but it's full of good reminders.

I can't decide if this is slightly creepy or just wonderful, but I love these pictures of old people wearing vegetation.

This is a lovely post from bodyheart.com about learning to be proud of our bodies by changing our conversations about them. Below is the picture that led me there, with a lovely quote by Kate Winslet.

And finally, doesn't this pistachio-encrusted salmon look divine? (In the spirit of full disclosure, my sister-in-law made up this recipe - but it made me immediately go and buy salmon, which is in my freezer dying to be turned into this deliciousness.) I vote that everyone who likes fish make it for Sunday dinner. Yum.

A New Perspective on Motherhood

I've been terrible about contributing to our tribute to women this month, and I will tell you why: I've been mothering a sick hedgehog.

A few weeks ago, my husband and I brought this little darlin'  home.  She was very sweet and quite tame (not too prickly) and we were just in love.


Then, one night our little gal sneezed all night long. Her breathing sounded wet and snuffly, and everything I saw in the literature about hedgehog care (I know, right?) said that it was probably an upper respiratory infection from the pine bedding the pet shop sold us (and swore was all right for her)  - an infection that could quickly turn to pneumonia and be fatal for our hedgehog. And the worst of it was that we just didn't know what to do for her because she was so new to us. Who knows what a hedgehog's eating and breathing and playing should look like?

I spent the next few days constantly checking to make sure she was breathing, tensing up whenever she started to sneeze, counting her kibble to see if she was eating (she wasn't) and worrying, worrying, worrying. After a few days, I couldn't stand it anymore and took her to the vet, where they gave her some medicine and told me I was on the right track and she would be fine, that it hadn't gone to her lungs and antibiotics would clear up the rest. After thinking she might die because she was so lethargic and sniffly, it was a huge relief. It was an even bigger relief when, after a couple of days of working a medicine dropper into her mouth (while she threw her head back and forth and clenched her teeth like a little kid), she finally started to eat regularly, drink normally, and (I'm sorry) poop non-green poop.

I've always had a great respect for mothers - for the work they do to keep their babies happy and healthy as often as possible, for the worrying they go through when their babies are sick or sad or in trouble. However, I'd never understood things like the relief that comes when a baby starts eating right, the concern over weird-looking stuff in the diaper, the need to just watch the baby breathe. It may sound silly, but my concern for a spiny little rodent gave me a glimpse into the lives of new mothers - women who want so badly for their child to be healthy and normal and okay. I finally understood why someone would obsess over the color or frequency of baby poop - because any sign of normalcy is a huge comfort, another sigh of relief, another night when you don't lie awake listening for any sound that might be a bad sign.



To the mothers out there: I'm certainly not saying I understand everything you've gone through now that I've mothered a hedgehog. Cute as she is, the fear that little Stickybun wouldn't recover has nothing on the feelings a mother has for her child's wellbeing. But I do understand a little better the feelings of investment that come with trying to keep something tiny and helpless alive. I both dread and look forward to the day when I will be crazy with worry for my own child.


Until then, if you want to tell me about the color of your baby's poop, I will listen.

Guest Post: Nicole, Growing a Mother

Bringing twins into the world after already having two young children changed my life. Not in the way that you're probably thinking--not in a sentimental way, but in a fundamental way. Life = work, work = time, and time was incredibly precious and always slipping away.



All I wanted was more and more time, time to read to my older children who needed me, time to zone out, time to bake, time to stop time from moving forward. But life wouldn't slow down. Children wouldn't slow down. And so I had to choose: would I continue to fight or would I grow with life?



Each day I still choose. Growing with whatever is placed in front of me means I can lead a more peaceful, content life. It means I can live minute by minute and follow my heart to know what is most important each day. It means my children are understood more and penciled in less.



Accepting my lack of control over many things in life empowered me as a mother because I could focus on what I could control. Time became a blessing, a treasure to be used with thanksgiving with more awareness of the present.

The Sleepy Time Gal

Motherhood Links

I don't know if you've noticed, but I love links almost as much as I love lists. There is just a lot of awesome stuff out there that needs to be shared!

Keeping in line with this week's theme, here are some motherhood related links:

First things first, if you aren't already reading Everyday I Write the Book, you need to fix that. Kacy blogs about whatever pops into her head, like advice on how to sleep on your face or helpful tips for not so good homemakers.

I recently became a fan of The Mom blog, blame it on CJane. Ruth blogs about her days with her children, but mostly about her daughter Davy who just had major surgery to repair a major cleft. It's sweet and real and touching and Davy has the most beautiful eyes on the planet.

Speaking of CJane, she just happened to write a guest post on Goodnight Moon about motherhood and Mormonism. She touches on some of our Mormon habits (Family Home Evening, Mutual, General Conference) and how those things work with being a mother. It's your normal, straightforward and funny CJane post. Enjoy!

Megan and her mom....and some really, really big trees.

Spotlight: The Sleepy Time Gal

When I was in college and just starting out as an Art History major, I made a new friend, Nicole. We had several classes together even though she was further along than I was and I'm certain I wouldn't have passed some of those classes without her help.

When I met her, Nicole was dating Bobby. They were both funny and creative and fun to be around. They got married and I drove to their wedding in Pennsylvania. I visited them occasionally when we all lived in Utah and I'm trying to get a visit in to them now that we live close together again. Last time I saw Nicole, she had one gorgeous baby daughter. Now she has four daughters (including twins!) and she blogs about her awesome adventures with them.


I admire how her creativity has grown to accommodate her daughters and how she nurtures their individual creativity. It's even more amazing that she turns around and takes the time to blog about their activities when she could be catching up on sleep (which I'm sure must be a priority with four young children). Needless to say, I've always been a fan of Nicole and now I want to share the love.

Check her out on The Life and Times of The Sleepy Time Gal. She shares photos of her children and their activities, including the decision to start homeschooling. There are tutorials, tips, recipes and links to explore, all put together in a neat little package of a blog. You can tell she is having fun with her daughters every day - even on the hard days (because there are always hard days when you are raising children).

And stay tuned later this week for a guest post from The Sleepy Time Gal, Nicole.

Motherhood from my Perspective

I shared this link back in September when I wrote a guest post for my friend's blog, All the Sanity in Me. I'm recycling this post because it's relevant and, in all honesty, it took me forever to write it and I think it's worth two posts.

The reason it took so long, and I mention this in the post, is that I have a really hard time talking about my relationships with my nephews and niece and not getting sappy or long-winded or emotional. I'm fully aware that my situation as an aunt is not normal, but I wouldn't change it for anything on this earth. I've sacrificed a lot of time for them, but it was (and is) time well spent.

I think the point I was trying to make is that anyone can be a mother to anybody...it doesn't matter if you birthed them, what matters is the time and the dedication. What matters is the example you set, the lessons you teach and the unconditional love you give.


The Wisdom of Aunt Zizi

I have rewritten this post five times. Sixth is the charm, right? Mostly, it's just difficult to explain my situation without being long-winded, boring or sentimental. Heidi said, "Be funny, Lindsey!" I'm finding it hard to be funny on cue. I'm no dancing monkey, Heidi! Still, I'm going to try this one more time.

I'm Lindsey. There are oh so many things that define who I am, but one of my favorite things is that I am an aunt. Aunt Lindsey or Zizi, depending on which children are doing the name calling. I have always loved kids and all I've ever wanted out of life is to be a mother. I don't have my own babies yet, but I spoil the heck out of my sister and brother's kids. There are six all together, five boys and one girl, ranging in ages from 13 to 2 1/2. My level of involvement in each of their lives has varied over the years. I went from being the doting, teenage aunt to one opinionated toddler to the college attending, long-distance aunt who spoiled her three favorite boys despite money and distance to the live-in/caretaker aunt who gets to see her two youngest nephews grow up day by day. That's a pretty big spectrum, but I've loved every incarnation of aunthood that I've achieved.

When I moved home after college, my sister, brother-in-law and their oldest son (who was one at the time) were also living with my parents. I shared my room with the one year old, now that was an adventure. Needless to say, neither of us slept very well. A few years later (and the addition of another baby), I moved into a new house with my sister and her family. I was back home, without a job, nannying for my sister and whoever else wanted to pay me. Watching my nephews was one of the hardest and greatest things I've done in my life. Same goes for the decision to move in with them. It's so hard to balance being an aunt and helping raise these boys. I want to be the fun aunt 100% of the time, but life won't allow that. I'm also not their mother, so there are times when I can be the fun aunt and not feel guilty. I also get to make my sister change the dirty diapers, but that's mostly because I potty-trained her oldest son and I think she'll owe me forever for that one.

Now that you are all up to speed, here's the good stuff. A list (I'm a fan of lists) of six things I've learned about parenting from being a super aunt:

1. Chill out. Monkey see, monkey do. If you are stressed and high strung, your kids are going to pick up on that and your day is going to go down hill faster than a Jamaican bobsledding team. Put yourself in time out or learn some breathing exercises or distract yourself and the kids with something more fun and productive.

2. Baby wipes are amazing. I've used baby wipes once to clean crayon off of cream colored upholstery. I also use the same thing to clean my nephew's face and bottom. That seems off, right? But baby wipes keep my clothes and car free from sticky residue and stains so YAY WIPES!

3. TV is not the devil. Sometimes when you've been in a house all day with three screaming children under the age of 3, two of whom insist on being carried ALL THE TIME, the TV will become your best friend. If Yo Gabba Gabba provides me with 30 minutes of scream-free peace, then yes, TV is an angel sent from heaven.

4. Get the king size bed. It only takes one night of "sleeping" in a twin size bottom bunk with a wriggling 3-year-old to learn this very important lesson - and countless other nights in similar situations to burn this lesson into your brain for time and all eternity.

5. Build up a tolerance for waste. Children are adorable. They say the darndest things! They also pee, poop, cry, and throw up all over the place. It happens. And sometimes several of those things happen all at once. It's like a horror movie, only there's no crew man waiting off stage to come clean up the mess.

6. Enjoy the little moments. Sometimes days are bad. Sometimes, by the time you are sitting down to dinner, it's all you can do to keep from crying. That's when it's time to pay more attention to the little moments and try to focus on those. Things like how cute it is when your 2 year old starts dancing at the dinner table and eating his sandwich like a kitty cat or when your 4 year old actually sits down and eats every single thing on his plate without complaint AND asks for seconds. The more of those you find, the more your bad day will seem less bad.