What am I into?

Since I am clearly neglecting my blog these days due to a severe lack of creativity, I'll happily jump on the bandwagon with this fun survey brought to my attention by my dear, Sorta Crunchy friend, Megan.

The Book I am Really Into (or one I want to get into): I've been reading more magazines than books these days, as they require less commitment. But here are three books I've read/been reading lately...on three very different subjects!

Baking: From My Home to Yours - by Dorie Greenspan - Baking is a beloved hobby of mine, and this is one fantastic cookbook! I've had it checked out from the library for several weeks now (keep renewing) and have tried a few recipes, including that cake on the cover...um, yeah...really good!

Once Upon a Town: The Miracle of the North Platte Canteen - by Bob Greene - After watching the amazing WWII documentary, The War, on PBS last month, I've been fascinated by that time period in American history. I'm also a fan of Bob Greene's writing, so this has been a great, heartwarming read.

What Your Doctor May Not Tell You About Children's Vaccinations - by Stephanie Cave and Deborah Mitchell - The lovely, aforementioned Megan recommended this book to me, and I'm so grateful! This book is full of great, straightforward, non-alarmist information about common children's vaccines and the diseases they are meant to prevent.


TV Show Worth Watching: That's gotta be The Office. We love it. So smart, so hysterical, and oh-so-quotable. When Michael called Phyllis a "less-urban Aunt Jemima" in last week's episode...Oh. My. Gosh. I'm still giggling about it! I was totally spoiled by the hour-long episodes they started the season with, though. The half-hour ones just fly by!


Movie I've Seen (In or Out of a Theater): We don't really do the theater anymore. It's just not all that enjoyable. The only time it's really worth the expense, the lines, the crowds, the not-so-comfortable seats, etc. is when there's some great action movie where the special effects warrant the big-screen experience. Otherwise, give me my living room, my couch, and my pause button any day! As for the question...well we've been more into watching episodes of TV sitcoms on DVD these days. But I did check out The Truman Show from the library the other day for old times sake. We've seen it a bunch of times, but I really love it.


The Candle I'm Loving: I don't burn candles all that frequently, but I do love fall-scented candles. I have a cinnamon spice one in my kitchen at the moment, and it makes me feel all cozy inside.


Blog I am Always Visiting: Anyone on my blogroll! Or at least those who update their blogs, unlike my slacker self.


What I'm Most Looking Forward to Next Month: Hmm...well I'll give you a hint. It has something to do with a tiny person giving me my uterus back and joining us in the world outside the womb. A world where pummeling my internal organs with tiny fists is a little more difficult. Can you tell it's been a rough weekend? Anyway, I'm really hoping this event takes place next month.

I say strange things now

Motherhood = odd phrases coming out of my mouth. A couple of today's examples...

"No honey, I can't take my face off. It stays on my head."

"Let's not mix crackers and water together to make paste..."

"We don't ice skate on books."

"Why is the sour cream in the living room?"


Yep, those are some sentences I never thought I'd say!

Innocence

There must be a time in each of our lives when we lose it. That sweet innocence that causes us to see the world through a beautiful, unmarred lens. When is it? Maybe it's different for each one of us. Maybe it's not one specific point in particular, but a gradual erosion of this perceived utopia. Perhaps each of life's disappointments, each scrape of the knee or unfulfilled wish knocks us down a notch towards the reality that life isn't perfect, people aren't perfect.

I've been very aware lately that my daughter is still very much living in a state of innocence. Sure, she knows her share of disappointments throughout each day. Only one cookie; no more Sesame Street for today; it's too wet outside to play in the yard. Those lessons are good for her, and we try to be deliberate about not indulging her every whim. But in many ways, she's still living in an unblemished world. In her eyes, I can make everything feel better. Her Daddy can fix anything that's broken. Owies always heal. There are always snacks in the cupboard. Every child she meets is a friend.

A few weeks ago at the park, the strap on one of her pink rubber sandals broke and made it impossible for her to walk around. We were near the end of our visit anyway, so Daddy just carried her to the car (and fixed her sandal with some super glue when we got home...because he can fix anything). Then earlier this week we passed an elderly woman maneuvering down the sidewalk in a motorized wheelchair. Maya asked me, "What's that lady doing, Mama?" I explained that the chair helped her to get around, because she had trouble walking. Maya's response? "She has a broken shoe." Again at the store yesterday we saw a man in a wheelchair. She asked about him and I explained once again that some people have trouble walking and they have special chairs to help them go where they need to go. I told her that sometimes people's legs get sick and can't walk very well. She took in this information, and then confidently told me again, "He probably has a broken shoe."

Her responses in these situations really struck me. In Maya's mind, with her strong, healthy little body more than able to carry her easily throughout each day, there is no other explanation for being unable to walk than her one experience of the kind...when a broken shoe was the culprit. She doesn't know a reality where legs don't walk, where ears don't hear or eyes don't see. Life's hurdles can be overcome with a scoop into Daddy's arms and a few dots of super glue.

It's not that I really want her to remain blissfully unaware of hardship. I mean, sure, there are some bits of innocence that I'd love for her to hang onto. As a mother, my impulse is to shield her from things that could cause her pain. I don't want her to experience rejection from others. I'm not looking forward to the inevitable stage where she realizes that Daddy & Mommy aren't perfect. And some elements of her inexperience are just plain convenient! The ice cream truck is just a truck that plays music, for instance. And she still thinks that you need a key in order to access the goodies inside gumball machines. Long live that innocence! But I do want her to gain, in time, a healthy perspective on life's roadblocks. I want her to understand that there are those who are less fortunate than we are and feel compassion for those who those who live with difficulties, physical or otherwise. I want her to be generous and to be thankful for the blessings of health, family, friends, and resources.

I know that with time, she will understand. It's a bittersweet thought for me. Part of me wants her to only know a life where the biggest hurdle is a broken shoe. But I know that, as with many things in this journey we call motherhood, I will have to let go of that wish over time. Life is sure to bring it's share of struggles and tears. And many of those experiences will be valuable lessons that will serve to shape her. But you can bet that Daddy and I will always be there with hugs, prayers, words, and yes...super glue, whenever she needs them.

Have you thanked a cow today?

Driving in the car this morning...

Maya: Look Mama! Cows!
Me: Yeah, I see them!
Maya: Cows drink milk.
Me: Well, cows give milk.
Maya: No, cows drink milk.
Me: Well, baby cows drink milk from their mamas, but big cows give us milk to drink.
*pause*
Maya: That's very nice of cows!
Me: Ah...yes, it is!
Maya: Thank you, cows!

I should wear a blinking sign...

It's happened more than once in the last couple of days. Maya has hurried towards me, looking to throw herself onto my legs either in protest of an un-granted request or to laughingly escape a Daddy tickle attack...and her little head just completely bounces off of my protruding belly. It stuns her for a moment, but she quickly recovers and adjusts her embrace a bit to the side.

So, the phrase "be careful of Mommy's tummy", once reserved for cautioning my child to please not whack me with toys or limbs in that general vicinity, is now also applicable to her approaching me quickly. *sigh*

Three months to go. I'm not going to get any smaller. Yowza! Perhaps I should invest in a toddler-sized helmet?

Rebel Mama

I'm a rebel. Well, sometimes I think I am. There are certain circles in which I feel totally integrated, very encouraged by the like-mindedness and support as to the parenting style we've chosen. And in others...well, I just feel...different. Somewhat painfully so. So I'm choosing to label those times my "rebel mom" times, because it gives me a bit more confidence than using a term like, say, "freako mom".

Here are some reasons why I am a rebel:

- We do not use physical punishments with our children. We most definitely believe in discipline, but choose to use other methods to guide our children's behavior.

- I do not believe in sleep-training infants.

- I don't believe that responding to a baby's cries will cause them to become needy, manipulative, or over-dependant.

- I do not believe that infants can be spoiled by nursing them on demand, whether for hunger or comfort.

- I practice extended breastfeeding/child-led weaning.

- I do not believe that babies/children must be kept out of the "marriage bed".

- I deeply believe that my Christian faith supports each and every one of these conclusions, and that there is no Biblical basis I have found which contradicts them.

There are many people in my life who would disagree with some, or even all, of these things. I respect that, and I would never for a second allege, or even imply, that any of my mama friends are doing the "wrong" thing because they choose to parent differently. Everyone needs to choose the parenting style and techniques that work best for them.

But why did I have to end up in the road-less-traveled group? Here's the thing about rebel-dom...it can be a lonely place. And it's particularly frustrating to find that I most often feel alone in Christian circles. It shouldn't be surprising, since the prominent Christian parenting literature, resources, and gurus out there right now mostly seem to line up on the side of a different approach. And again, it's not that I think those things, in and of themselves, are "wrong"...but the ideas and methods suggested often just don't make sense to my heart personally.

Before I had Maya, I pored over parenting books, so desparately wanting to do the "right" thing. But when she was born and I was actually in the thick of parenthood, my heart led me in other directions. This, understandably, caused me some massive feelings of guilt in the begining, as I worried that I was failing as a mother, particularly as a Christian mother. And yet, somehow, I felt that it was God himself who was leading my heart. It wasn't until I found myself in an online community with a group of women from different backgrounds, areas of the country, and experiences, that I learned there was actually a method to my madness. Not only were there other people out there who were parenting the way we were, but there were resources, books, doctors, etc. that whole-heartedly endorsed and supported this approach, and from a Christian perspective! What a blessing! What confirmation!

Two-and-a-half years later, I am so certain that the decisions we've made have been the right ones for us, in spite of the many mistakes we've no doubt made so far. Our daughter is bright, well-adjusted, empathetic, cooperative, loving, and independant, even though I nursed her for two years, fed her on demand, never let her cry herself to sleep, and have never used physical correction. Our marriage is stronger, in every sense, than ever before, even though Maya spent many a night for quite some time sharing our bed. And I'm approaching our second round of the newborn stage with a confidence I didn't have the first time, knowing that the choices we will make are ones that feel right to us and line up with the example that we believe God sets for us as our Heavenly Father.

And yet, why do I sometimes still struggle with feeling like a rebel? Why does it only take one pointed comment or a discussion in which I feel like an outsider to suddenly make me feel so...lonely?

I'm a rebel. With a cause. And it's one I'm intensely passionate about. But sometimes, I have to admit, it sucks.

Smart Alec

Last night, as Mark and I enjoyed big bowls of freshly cut seedless watermelon, I looked over to see him meticulously picking the tiny white seeds out of the melon pieces with the tongs of his fork.

"It's ok, honey," I teased. "If you eat the seeds, it won't make a watermelon grow in your tummy."

Without missing a beat, he very seriously replied, "I don't know...", with a pointed look at my pregnant belly, which is admittedly looking more melon-like every day.

Very funny, dear. Although I gotta say, that's not at all how I remember it happening...




Edited to add: Is it an indication of just how obsessively I've been poring over baby name books these days that I looked back at the title of this post and went, "Hmmm...'Alec'..." ?

Nah, the Baldwin association isn't great for me these days with that one.