Day 112: Isn't it Ironic

I'm not being authentic enough.

I've recently gotten a few very kind and much appreciated comments about my superior mothering skills (from someone other than my own mother believe it or not) so it must be time to air out some dirty laundry! I want to make sure I'm finding a balance between processing my parenting philosophy and my parenting reality - two very different things some days.

In a sadly comical turn of events, mere hours after I received one of these compliments I found myself yelling about potato soup train tracks and a spoon locomotive mess on the counter, complete with banging finger and disapproving eyebrows. Fortunately Jackson met my anger with quiet compassion: "Mommy, you should throw a ball instead of banging on the counter. Or you could hit something soft to get your angry feelings out. Those are things you could do because it's not okay to bang on hard things when you're angry."

Teaching him to advocate for himself, manage his own feelings, and even help me manage mine is my proudest accomplishment as his mother thus far. Not only for what it gives him, but for what it gives me. Along with a greater understanding of the grace that covers my shortcomings, this has released me from the anxiety I had been carrying.

My greatest parenting fear has always been the potential damage my mismanaged anger could cause. And when God found it fit to give me an intensely sensitive little boy, I practically started questioning His existence. Why would an all-knowing, loving God subject such a sweet soul to me?! Didn't He know I wasn't equipped for this?

Turns out He did know. He knew that the only thing that would draw me toward the kind of radical change I needed was the love I have for my precious son. He knew that the only thing that would get me to take an honest look at myself was seeing my reflection - sometimes in imitation, sometimes in effect - in the child I cherish.

Some days I still feel ill equipped, like I just don't and maybe never will have what it takes to be the kind of mother I want to be for Jackson and Max. Although fortunately not all catastrophic, the failures come daily.

But on the days I feel capable, when we all get to experience the intersection of philosophy and reality, I see the beauty of God's messy plan for our family.

He didn't give Jackson to me because I was the perfect mom, but so that He could perfect me through him. Every day I'm being refined by the love I have for Jackson and the God who blessed me with him, by the joy that comes with our peaceful and harmonious interactions, and by the grace that covers the chaotic discord that finds its way in more often than I'd like to admit.

So when you see me in a moment of loving patience or read about me celebrating a good day, know that those came out of the growing pains we've experienced along our way. And when you inevitably see or read the opposite, trust that grace, forgiveness and growth are not far behind.

Then extend the same kindness to your own parenting journey that you apply to mine, because you deserve it as much as I or anyone else.

Day 88: Positive and Productive Protests

I never wanted to change the world until I had kids. I don't know exactly what it is about becoming a parent that stirs up these desires, but it seems to be pretty common. Maybe it's that having a child is the only thing that can truly pull a person outside of themselves and their own interests so completely. Whatever the case, I suddenly cared deeply about things like nutrition, birth, breastfeeding, circumcision, feminism, human rights, medical ethics, freedom of choice, and all manners of equality. Things that weren't even a blip on the radar now consume my life.

If I could clone myself, I'd be at every capitol march and every public hearing, I'd be writing articles, letters, and emails and making phone calls daily. But of course I'm only one person, so I settle for doing all the things I can with the time and resources I have. And while posting a profile picture and passing on articles in support of World Breastfeeding Week or Genital Integrity Awareness Week is a small part of that, there's something else I see as much more valuable, much more productive: Community.

A few days ago, I happened to drive by our local Planned Parenthood to see a (very) small group of individuals pacing with "Respect Life" signs. I got unexpectedly angry. And if I hadn't had to get home, it would've been enough to motivate me to pull over and strike up a conversation.

How they think that providing a negative presence and directing that energy at people who are already in a negative place is supposed to produce a positive result is beyond me.

If they want to end abortion they should start by getting involved in the community instead of wasting their time circling on the sidewalk. If they truly cared about babies, they'd be actively supporting those babies' mothers, not silently carrying cardboard messages of disapproval. If they want to protect life, they should be actively loving women in our community so perfectly that those women embrace their innate value and strength to the point of feeling capable of motherhood.

I care about babies and life, I'd love to see the end of abortion, but self-righteous picketing and targeting legal rights don't make my list of ways to bring that to fruition. And that goes for all the other causes I'm passionate about. If we want to change the world, we have to start by promoting a positive change, not attacking what we see as negative.

So here are my positive and productive protests, and I hope you'll take a minute to think about yours (and share them!):

I protest the cultural and industry breastfeeding sabotage by offering support to every single mother who comes across my path and, through friends of friends, many I'll never meet, by actively participating in my local breastfeeding community and encouraging other women to do so, and by openly and confidently breastfeeding my children where ever I am, in whatever I'm wearing, no matter who's present, and no matter what age my child is.

I protest the unethical withholding of circumcision information by the medical community by being open about our choice to keep our sons intact and honest about its damaging and right-revoking nature when I'm met with an open and wondering ear, and by supporting mothers whose strength wavers in the face of cultural or family expectations.

I protest the dismal quality of our food system by making good nutritional choices for my family and not compromising that based on cultural expectations, by helping other mothers find their way to the best nutrition for their families, by supporting local food sources, and by spreading awareness about infringements upon our rights within the system.

I protest the stripping of a woman's birthing power by the routine labor and delivery system by openly sharing my birth experiences, by supporting every pregnant woman I have the privilege of meeting, and by cheering every woman on to empowerment, to seeing herself and her body as perfectly-designed, capable, and strong.

I protest the stripping of personal freedoms by standing up for the rights of those I don't agree with. By championing all causes that promote personal choice, regardless of how I feel about those choices.

I protest the mistreatment of children by supporting and validating mothers, by offering information to those who feel their options are limited, who want to find a peaceful way to coexist with their children but don't know how, by treating my own children with the respect and dignity they deserve, by offering a new way of looking at children and the parent-child relationship, and by encouraging mothers to follow their instincts.

I'm proud to say that my children will grow up in a community and witness my passionate involvement in that community; and they will be better for it. Caring for others will be second nature to them, and seeing through the issues to the people will come naturally. A genuine desire to promote positive change in their world will just be a part of who they are, and championing a cause will be so much more meaningful to them than waving a sign. Now if we could just get the rest of the world on board!

Day 87: Young at Heart

I had the privilege of joining a few fellow La Leche Leaguers for a breastfeeding talk at a local high school today. The class was quieter than others have been in the past, but all in all it was a great experience for us and hopefully for them. And today, like always, I was struck by just how far behind me my own high school days are now.

I tend not to feel too much different than my high school self, which is really strange since the two of us wouldn't recognize each other in a room. I guess I was waiting for some defining moment or experience to make me feel like an adult; but college degrees, a husband, and two children haven't yet, so I've been forced to let that theory die. In reality, it was such a gradual change that I never noticed how far I was from where I had been, and even now looking back it's so murky that it's hard to say when the old me was replaced by version 2.0 and subsequent updates.

But when a high school girl's most pressing question about my home birth is how we "made his belly button" from the umbilical cord, I'm whisked out of my delusions and the stark contrast between teen me and adult me is obvious.

I didn't think the same way or about the same things, nearly all my values and beliefs are different, my set of "life tools" has thankfully expanded (although I'm still working on stocking the shop shelves), and I'd like to think that sound judgment has decided to make much more frequent appearances since then.

And what does all of that have to do with parenting? Well, other than the fact that mothering has spurred the greatest changes in my life since then, it's a reminder that my children see the world much differently than I do, and will for a very long time.

I don't want to lose touch with what it's like to be eight, twelve, or sixteen. I remember what it felt like to not be (or feel anyway) understood, and I'm hoping not to repeat that cycle that seems to be almost inevitable between parents and children. What I cling to is the vivid memory of the time I felt validated in a major way over a major issue, and how I want my kids to feel that way all the time.

I'm not sure how to put this into practice, especially at their young ages, but I know that it's something I want to stay present with now and as they grow. They are not adults. They don't think like adults, feel like adults, or experience the world in any way like adults. I would do well to remember this every time our thoughts, feelings, and experiences don't coincide. And if I do, I'm confident that it will lead to a more mutually open and respectful loving relationship with both of them.

Day 86: Was that It?

It's been about a week since the last pacifier bit the dust, and all the mayhem I predicted has yet to hit. A couple days with no nap, a few with significantly (and cheerfully) delayed naps, and not a single hiccup at bedtime. That was it.

What an amazing validation of the choice we made to let him outgrow his need rather than forcing him to separate from something we chose to give him for comfort in the first place.

It's almost surreal to think back to the tearful phone call I made to my mom when Jackson was just two weeks old. I was devastated because I had to give him the dreaded pacifier. I was supposed to be his comfort, not some cold piece of silicone. But with my outrageous oversupply problem giving him a painfully gassy tummy, I had no choice but to offer him comfort somewhere else - in my arms, but not at my breast. It was heartbreaking.

Six months later I had gotten over the feeling of failure that came every time I popped the paci in his mouth and my milk supply had finally evened out. But by that time he was so used to it - and so was I - that taking it away didn't seem right. I knew he was attached enough that it would be a struggle, and one not worth fighting (although talk to me again in 10 years when I'm paying his orthodontist). So we ended up letting him lead the way.

If I'm honest, I'm just glad it didn't take another two years! For a while I thought maybe he'd be taking it to college with him. But I'm so glad we respected his need while it lasted and have been able to give him what little support he needed through the incredibly smooth transition that came when he outgrew it.

And despite what I'm sure my family must think, weaning from the breast will happen before college too. Seeing how easily and painlessly we were able to walk through it with the pacifier only makes me more confident that child-led weaning is the right choice.

He will outgrow the need to nurse someday, and when he does I'll be sad and proud all at the same time. Sad that such a special part of our relationship will have come to an end, but proud that I respected and met his needs so completely for so long and proud that he will have grown confident enough in our relationship and himself to venture out into the world without needing the security of nursing. But hopefully we won't cross that bridge for quite a while.

Day 49: Better Late than Never

I will choose to find a positive perspective under even the most negative circumstances.
I will choose acceptance over resistance.
I will choose to focus on the things I value about my children, not the things that drive me nuts.
I will choose to extend the same grace, love and forgiveness to myself that I try to lavish on my husband and children each day.

I'm going to take another day to soak in some thoughts on trust and control, and in the meantime share a recent revelation and subsequent observation relating to the television.


I've been struggling to find a comfortable relationship with DVDs. I was paying far too much attention to external influences - research, opinions, what other moms are doing - instead of tapping into my intuition. Ironically, it was an external resource that brought me back to my intuition to make peace with the issue once and for all.

Putting on a DVD for Jackson never felt right. There were always feelings of guilt and inadequacy when I hit play - every time. I chalked those up to "shoulds" based on research, wanting to be the fictional 'perfect mom,' or having a black and white view of the issue that should be more gray. I didn't honor the fact that those emotions were coming from within me. In other words, I blew myself off.

I was never happy with how Jackson behaved during and after a DVD, but I blamed it on my absence instead of the DVDs presence (Of course! Don't we moms blame ourselves for everything?). In other words, I used guilt in a negative way by placing blame instead of using it as a positive guidepost for future decisions.

I listened to other moms I respect talk about their kids' favorite shows or movies and saw the TV on in other moms' homes and told myself, "See, they do it. It's not so bad." In other words, I looked at what someone else had decided was right for their family and tried to apply it to mine instead of looking at what I felt was right for my family.

Instead of honoring my intuition, I tried to smother it in reason: I do what we have to do to survive. We're not capable of being a no-TV house anymore. It's not ideal, but it's not that bad. I just need to relax about it and stop being so all or nothing.

Then by chance (or divine intervention) I came home from ECFE a couple weeks ago with a handout on temperament. I'm pretty tuned in to the kids' temperaments and had already done lots of reading on it, so I set the packet on the table and didn't give it another thought until a few days ago when I decided to read through the suggestions for the different traits before I filed it away.

I skipped to the section on sensitivity, knowing that Jackson is off the charts in this trait. There was the expected list: teach your child to recognize when he's becoming overstimulated, be sensitive to how much stimulation your child is receiving from noise, smells, etc., help your child avoid situations that are overwhelming, and so on. But then there was this simple suggestion: Limit the amount of television your child watches.

Somehow seeing it under the category of sensitivity and overstimulation finally helped me make the connection. I was uncomfortable with it because I knew deep down that it had a negative emotional and physical impact on Jackson. Not because of the research on brain development, not because of the arbitrary number of hours "they" call acceptable or unacceptable, not even because of a change in his behavior. Those feelings were there because I know him in an inexplicable way that can only be felt.

The fact that I couldn't put my finger on why I didn't like it or what felt wrong about it shouldn't have stopped me from acting on the feeling. When it comes to mothering, the feeling is enough.

Five days without the TV have validated my instincts. He's not needing more attention without the distraction of a movie, he's actually needing less. Instead of asking for a DVD (since they've all been removed from our living space and relegated to the depths of our place-here-if-you-never-want-it-to-be-found-again mess of a storage room), he happily plops down with a lump of homemade playdough and entertains himself creatively for an hour.

He's happier and more at peace without the bombardment of screen full of action overstimulating him (even if the action was just Cinderella going to a ball!). And the fact that he readily accepted the change, even seemed to welcome it, also validates that he also knew it wasn't a healthy activity for him.

I'm disappointed that it took me so long to acknowledge and honor my intuition, that I allowed other things to guide my choice. But I'm thankful for the experience because it reinforces what I'm always preaching to myself and other moms: Trust your instincts above all else. We are each experts on our own children and no one else knows what's right for us and our families like we do.

Day 38: Intuition

I will choose to find a positive perspective under even the most negative circumstances.
I will choose acceptance over resistance.
I will choose to focus on the things I value about my children, not the things that drive me nuts.
I will choose to extend the same grace, love and forgiveness to myself that I try to lavish on my husband and children each day.

Our Holistic Moms Network meeting last night was on "food as medicine." Having done loads of nutritional research, especially in the past few weeks, I didn't expect anything to rock my world, but I ended up walking away with something really significant. She talked about bioindividuality - the concept that no one diet works for every human body - and touched on allowing the body to guide you to what it needs. She went on to explain how that intuition isn't accessible when we're in a toxic state from eating processed foods, pesticides, hormones, and everything else that comes along with the Western Diet. I can identify with this so powerfully right now as the detox diet is slowly changing my dietary intuition.

I'm a person to which moderation does not come naturally or easily - in anything. When I'm in, I'm all in. This intensity brings so many positive things to my life. Most relevant to this project, it allows me to love my children so fiercely that I'm willing to fight through the ways that same intensity can damage them. Most relevant to the topic of nutrition, it means that food has been a battleground my whole life.

I believe so completely in the healing power of real food, and most days that knowledge is what guides my food choices. But when I fall prey to the enticing false promise of satisfaction from harmful food-like products, I go overboard. Way overboard. The only time I've felt my body's intuition guiding me toward healthful choices was during my pregnancy with Max, which also, not coincidentally, was a time I felt more energetic, healthy, and peaceful than ever before. 

Looking back, I now know that this is because this longstanding candida overgrowth coupled with the toxicity that results from overindulgence in moments of weakness has smothered that intuition for over a decade. As I detox, I feel it returning. Instead of feeling satisfied by "fake" foods, I feel physically sick when I make a poor choice. Instead of shoveling too much in with no signal to stop or repercussion when I don't, I feel full and even ill when I surpass full. It's only a matter of time before that intuition is fully restored to the point that non-foods are no longer appealing. What a welcome change that will be!

All of this got me thinking about emotional toxicity and mothering intuition. I think the parallel is strong. Emotional toxicity can come from unhealthy relationships, damage from early life experiences, insufficient coping skills, overbearing advice from family and friends, and any number of other sources. We all carry some toxicity, but when we become overloaded, it clouds out our intuition. The feelings - in both body and mind - that are intended to guide us through life and relationships are replaced with externally prescribed shoulds, and can'ts or simply confusion.

The danger is that shoulds and can'ts, like food-like products, can look appealing even though they're damaging. And the more we internalize them, the more they crowd out intuition. As we detox by refusing to engage in toxic relationships or listen to toxic advice, by finding ways to heal ourselves, our mothering intuition returns. Eventually the wrong choices will simply feel wrong, maybe even make us feel sick, and clarity will replace confusion.

So I've decided to engage in a full body and mind detox. As I get more in touch with my body's intuition, I'll work on connecting more fully with my mothering intuition. Together these things will bring me closer to the kind of energy, health and peace I want to experience and be for myself and my family.

Day 18: A Little Validation Goes a Long Way

I will choose to find a positive perspective under even the most negative circumstances.
I will choose acceptance over resistance.
I will choose to focus on the things I value about my children, not the things that drive me nuts.
I will choose to extend the same grace, love and forgiveness to myself that I try to lavish on my husband and children each day.

If you know me, you know I'm very confident in the choices I make for my family. And if you've met me, you've probably witnessed or heard something "crazy" because nearly all of the choices we make are well outside of mainstream. What you might not know, is that even I appreciate a little validation now and then. 

Don't get me wrong, my kids validate me every day. Every time Max nuzzles in closer to me at night or gives me a milky grin, I'm validated. And when I see Jackson communicating and relating to us and his peers (better than some adults I know!), I'm validated. But no matter how firm you are in your beliefs, your parenting philosophy, or your sense of self-worth, at some point a little external validation feels good. If for no other reason, then because it's a break from standing strong against all the criticism - spoken and unspoken. 

Outside of the political realm, there is no job that draws as much scrutiny as mothering. Everyone has an opinion about how your child should act and what you should do to make it that way. And if at any given moment you don't live up to those standards (God forbid someone's tired, hungry or having a bad day), your job performance in its entirety is called into question. 

You'd think it would go the other way - that when the behavior meets and exceeds standards, we would get accolades - but that's rarely the case. I can't count the number of times I've been told how "lucky" I am to have a healthy kid (yah, no thanks to his natural birth, two and a half years of breastfeeding and counting, or perfect nutrition) or a sweet kid (you're right, I taught him absolutely nothing about kindness, gentle communication, or empathy, nor did I give him emotional stability) or a bright kid (nope, must not have had anything to do with the 3 million books I read him, the constant narration and communication through our day or the time I spent playing with him).

The beautiful thing that has come to my life out of all this negativity is a community. There has never been a time in my life when I've been surrounded by so much loving support, probably because I've never needed it so much as I do now. No one can stand alone, not even me. And I have so many wonderful women (and children!) in my life now because all that scrutiny led me to seek out like-minded moms at La Leche League and Holistic Moms Network. When the weight of criticism, external expectations or just being a mom gets to be too much to carry on one set of shoulders, we all share the load.

With these women I feel understood and validated - something I don't get anywhere else. We don't all do things the same way, we don't even necessarily share the same philosophy, but we do share values. We value our children above all else (even outside approval) and we value our critical role in their lives. 

In a society that says mothering has no value because it's not a "job," we remind each other that what we're doing has infinitely more worth than anything else we could choose to do with our time and energy. That the lack of recognition has nothing to do with whether or not the job is important. And that someday we'll see the fruits of our labor, even if no one else acknowledges that they were a product of our efforts.

So I'll take the sideways glances and disapproving eyebrows, because I know without doubt that I'm doing is right for my kids. But more importantly, because without them I wouldn't have these meaningful relationships. It's truly a privilege to be part of such a supportive community.

Day 4: Really Seeing, Really Hearing

I will choose to find a positive perspective under even the most negative circumstances.
Jackson has struggled with eczema since the first months of his life. We resisted the urge to treat the symptom, and instead took him to a homeopath to address the underlying issue. Doing this is an exercise in patience and faith because there's rarely immediate relief, and sometimes even a worsening before improvement. But in the big picture, we do see significant healing, inside and out.

Researching is like a drug for me (I like to have all the answers, you know!), so like I always do before any decisions are made in our home, I dove into homeopathy head first. I emerged with a greater understanding of mind/body connectedness and just how incredibly important it is to health and happiness. It was one more step out of the tiny little box I grew up in, one more stretch of my world view to include the vast and meaningful branch of life that can be labeled "unseen."

Although unseen is somewhat of a misnomer, because the evidence will smack you right in the face if you're willing to see it. I've watched as three tiny little white pellets containing nothing but the energetic form of a substance have not only slowly healed his skin, but erased a fear of water overnight, brought a surge of creativity and artistic capabilities overnight, prompted a rush of correctly used pronouns and perfectly composed sentences overnight. His healing continues as I continue to open my eyes further to the amazing unseen world that God created and so many of us are missing out on.

This journey has also allowed me to understand Jackson on a deeper level than I otherwise could have. As I see the world differently, I'm able see him differently. I can see through the behavior of the moment to who he really is and how he's experiencing his world. Because of that I can know that what looks as straightforward as an episode of hyperactivity is actually deep seated unrest that he's experiencing in both his body and mind. I can see that he's as disturbed by it as I am, and that deep down he's longing for peace in that moment as much as I am. What a gift that has been for our relationship.

So thank you, eczema, for all the growth you've stimulated in us. I think your work here is done now. But then again, the farther down we get on Eczema Avenue, the more we keep learning, so I suppose I can be patient a bit longer.

I will choose acceptance over resistance.
We saw a phenomenal woman who does electrodermal screening. She validated everything we're doing for Jackson's eczema (fish oil, vitamin D, probiotics, digestive enzymes) and confirmed my suspicions of a casein sensitivity and mild candida growth. She also validated my understanding of, relationship with, and choices for Jackson, but we'll save that for another day.

So now I have the cold hard facts and I really do have to rid myself of all dairy for at least four weeks. I have been fervently resisting this for four months. I "thought" dairy was contributing to Jackson's eczema and Max's reflux and gas, but in reality I knew. I was giving in to doubt because I didn't want to make the change that I know is best for all of us. But it's haaaaaarrrrrd. *sniff* Okay, whining over and time to accept. I can do this. I will do this. And when I do, we will all reap the benefits, so why resist! I shall think of it as trading cheese for more sleep and a more peaceful house.

I will choose to focus on the things I value about my children, not the things that drive 
me nuts.
Max was given a gloworm for Christmas, which Jackson quickly claimed as his Baby Jesus. He loves to have Baby Jesus light up and sing to him as he "wraps him in cloth and lies him in the manger." The manger has been any number of places: the couch, a large stuffed animal, the rhinoceros ottoman, his bed.

Silly me, I didn't check the bed for Baby Jesus before putting Jackson down for his nap, and thus was treated to an hour long narrative of the adventures of Baby Jesus over the monitor. As I practiced acceptance instead of annoyance (yeah, me!) it finally became clear that he was not going to fall asleep until Baby Jesus ventured elsewhere. I walked in to find the pillow removed form its pillowcase, propped up on the railing and draped with his blanket to make "Rosie's wheelbarrow for Baby Jesus."

Default is to be irritated that he wasn't sleeping at nap time, but the better me says: I love that he can play so creatively and for so long with nothing but a gloworm. I love that he remembers and acts out things we read about. I love that he was content to let Baby Jesus sleep in the rocking chair while he took his nap with no negotiation or complaining. And I love that I got to listen to the sweet sound of his voice while I worked.

I will choose to extend the same grace, love and forgiveness to myself that I try to lavish on my husband and children each day. 
Jackson reads books in the car, and often rather than reading the story as is, he'll create his own scenarios to go with the pictures. He didn't want to leave the house this morning, but we had a schedule and I couldn't give him a choice. I didn't know it was a big deal until he found himself on a page with a Mommy Bunny and a Little Bunny, and this followed: "What's wrong Little Bunny? You're feeling sad? If you're feeling sad you can always come to Mommy Bunny. Mommy Bunny will always listen. What can we do about your sad feelings Little Bunny? Mommy Bunny will help you."

This opened up an opportunity to talk about the fact that he was sad because he wanted to stay home and pretend to cook in his kitchen, something I hadn't bothered to explore in the hurry to get out of the house. We also found out that being able to bring along one of his cooking tools would have helped him feel better about leaving. I didn't tune in and do what he needed me to do before we left. But I did take the open door he gave me to make it better for next time.