One and Two

My sweet, sweet girl-

We are on the very edge of change. As we teeter on this cusp of one and two I can't help but wonder how it will all pan out. You innocently call for "Dabent, out!", freely offering kisses and belly rubs like they're heading out of style. But you don't know; you can't possibly understand. I, myself, can hardly comprehend it. And while we fully intended on filling our house with children, on making sure you had siblings, I would be lying if I didn't admit that a part of me is mourning the loss we'll be experiencing with our huge gain.

You aren't going to be my one and only anymore.

There are times when the whole idea of it kills me. When the guilt hits my stomach hard and all I can do is pray you'll forgive me. That you'll realize the gain will be ten fold. That we have intentionally brought this next child into the world, not just for him or for us, but for you. So you can know the amazing love of a sibling; the stability, the rivalry, the built-in best friend. So whatever happens to your dad and I, you'll never be alone. There will always be someone who knows the same love, who has the same experiences, who no matter how nuts you drive each other will always be connected. A bond that can't be broken; something that anger, hurt or difference cannot sever. So you can learn love and sharing and family like nothing else can teach you.

I have zero doubt in my mind that you will love your brother. We are giving him an amazing gift in you alone. You are perhaps the sweetest spirit ever to grace this Earth and you love wholeheartedly, without abandon. I can't picture a kinder soul and it blows my mind to know you're still months away from age two. Strangers who meet you for mere seconds comment on your kindness, on your gentleness, your good nature. And while I cannot guarantee Bennett from a few battle wounds along the way, I know he is already blessed beyond measure at simply being born your brother. I am excited beyond words to see you fill your role to him as big sister.

What I fear, more than perhaps anything else right now, is how you'll react to me. How you'll handle me changing from yours and yours alone to one you have to share. I can't stand the thought of being away from you during labor, only to have you come back to me to find me with another child. I fear you'll think I have replaced you. That I am choosing someone else over you. And while I find myself telling you a million times a day, I hope to God it sinks in. Nothing will ever take you from me. You will always be my girl. I could have a million more children and not one of them- nothing, ever, could possibly make me love you less. And while our one on one time may become fewer and further between, and while you may have to share my lap every now and then, I can only imagine expanding our family will make me love you even more. That watching you unfold as the oldest child, as a sister, can do nothing but accentuate my adoration of you.

I am not naive enough to believe I will have to split my love. I don't know how it will work, and truly believe it is nothing short of a miracle, but I know without a doubt that somehow, without loving you any less, I will love Bennett just the same. It boggles my mind to think I could love another like I love you, but I know I will. These next few weeks may be tough. You may feel a bit lost in the shuffle or angry with the lack of old. It will most definitely be full of change as we attempt to find our new normal, but you will not be left behind. You will never be left behind. You will still remain at the forefront of our every thought, our every decision. Your dad and I will still love you like nothing else, and even then some. To the moon and back 'thiiiiiis' much.

And while I know you're young and wont even remember life as an only child, I pray you forgive us for our shortcomings as we adjust. That if you feel hurt or wronged or left out that you'll know it is a fluke. That we simply don't have it in us to purposefully put you second, ever. Now or then. Past, present, or future. That you and Bennett with forever, both, somehow always be our number ones.

I love you, Reagan Lee. And I cannot wait to make you a sister.

Love,
Your Mama

If We Don't Teach Her, She Won't Learn

Is abuse and neglect the only form of bad parenting? Is everyone really just doing the best they can?

I'm going to go easy on you and hand out the answers; no and no.

Can I preface this post with something? I believe I am a good parent. I know enough to know I'm doing some things right. I am absolutely consumed with love for her. I play with her, I talk to her, and I don't cover up her faults. I tell her she's beautiful but not nearly as often as I tell her she's smart. I feed her well balanced meals nearly all of the time, but I do not keep her from the occasional fun snack. I care about who she is going to be enough to discipline her now, while still making sure I talk kindly to her, more often than sternly. Even though it can be difficult, we take her out and about; we do not stay housebound. We do so because we know our struggles now will help her shape up into a well experienced, socialized person. And dealing with one year old tantrums is much easier than 5 or 6 year old tantrums. We know if we don't teach her, she won't learn. We know her entire life, her tiny section of the world, is so shaped and influenced by us it is almost scary. We fully understand what an honor and a blessing it is to have been given this child and we try our absolute hardest to not take it for granted.

All of that is not to say I am the perfect parent. Or even close to it. It's not to say I don't get frustrated, that I never give in and let her eat graham crackers for breakfast, that I don't ever get lazy or have never hid the book I am sick of reading over and over. Because I do. I have and I am and I'm sure I will again.

It is, however, to say I give it an earnest shot. Every day. I consciously think about how what I'm doing- or not doing- affects her. Is it for her or is it for me? I don't just think about the mess, I think about if the mess is worth it. It almost always is. I don't just think about how hot it'll be sitting outside, I think about the joy she experiences chasing the dogs, throwing rocks in the garden and splashing in her pool. I don't simply consider how much work it is to wake up early, shower, dress, feed and car seat her, I consider how important it is to us that she grows up going to church. I may get frustrated about it, but I don't let the fact that I know she probably won't eat it deter me from taking the time to make her a healthy meal. I don't eat things in front of her that I don't want her eating, and I try not to stay up too late, knowing morning always comes at the same time and I won't be nearly the parent I could be if I'm not well rested.

No one ever said it was easy. But someone (lots of people, actually) did once say that things worth doing are rarely easy.

Parenting is so much more than the required feeding, bathing, nail-clipping, sheet washing, car seat safety-knowing of many parenting books. And I will say it now and say it again, but abuse and neglect are not the only form of poor parenting. In fact, I'd wager to say it is much more difficult to be in the 'good' parent category than the 'poor.' We are not all doing the best we can. If you are letting your kid live in front of the TV, not getting down on the floor to play with and read to them, spending more time doing things for yourself, and disregarding behavioral and safety standards, you are a bad parent in my book. Yeah, you may not be starving or hitting your kid, but they, too, will suffer from your (lack of) parenting.

Having a bad or lazy day doesn't make you a bad parent. Nor does taking time for yourself. That is not the point I am aiming to make. What makes you a bad parent is consistently not doing what is best for your child. Being as every kid is different, what your child needs may vary slightly from what other children need, but overall, kids need much of the same. Time, attention, love and you. So often those things are even more important than the basic physical needs.

It really irks me when people say we're all just doing the best we can. Not only is that a horrible excuse, it makes people who probably know they aren't being a great parent believe that they're doing enough. We are shaping lives. We are taking blank slates and turning them into chalkboards full of answers, and to do any less would not only be doing a disservice to the individual, but our world as a whole.

(I apologize if this comes off as negative; it was written out of frustration. I am so sick of watching parents who don't stop their pre-parent lifestyle or who are far too selfish continue to treat their kids as if they're no more than caged pets that just need food and clean bedding every now and then. If you know me, you know I am oh so very against big government, but I sure wish you had to get a permit to get the privilege of parenting.)

Attached Parenting/ Exterior Gestation

Clearly, at this point and for the next six-ish months I am 100% attached to this baby, and this baby to me. I rely on him/her to make me feel nauseous, to crave something that just makes me puke, to bring me really weird dreams (like the CPS lady showing up asking me where my baby is and upon telling her baby is still growing inside me, I get 'taken in' for losing my baby...) and to make me constantly touch my lower belly, dreaming of our future, of our family, of the amazing love I already feel and how it is growing exponentially daily. Baby, on the other hand clearly relies on me for safety, nourishment, temperature regulation, and plenty of other life-giving stuff. It is obvious that both of us are significantly impacting each others lives. We rely on each other. We are basically one.

Unfortunately for many, many babies, this whole attachment parenting ends when it is no longer obvious that mom and baby are attached, namely, when baby is born. Nursing babies tend to stay more closely attached, strictly due to the round the clock body sucking they need. Our baby, however, will maintain attached to me. Yes I am planning on breast feeding, and no I am not planning on keeping this little sea monkey in me longer than the 9 months. But I have been doing research (really, Kristin researching? Thats odd. Not.) that shows the immense benefits of attached parenting and something that was entirely new to me called Exterior Gestation, or exterogestation. (Apparently this is new to blogspot, too, as it is telling me its spelled wrong...)

The whole idea that the closeness ends after birth is something us crazy westerners and Anglo-speaking people came up with. Around the world babies are constantly attached to their parents until they are completely mobile. We're talking baby wearing here, folks. Around here, though, we have all these nifty products that are made with the express purpose of ease, and keeping baby occupied and out of the way so mommy and daddy can get stuff done sans baby. But the research that has been done on babies that are constantly in physical contact with their parents is pretty amazing.

Here is the deal. Human infants are born more immature, mentally and physically, than any other mammal. Most mammals are already mobile (we're talking walking or crawling) within a few hours after birth. Not so much with the human infant. Something interesting, though? The average number of days a baby is born from the day of conception is 266 1/2. The average number of days it takes for a baby to crawl (like really, actually crawl) from birth? 266 1/2. Therefore, if a human were the typical mammal, our gestation period would actually be about 18 months. This also falls in line with the fact that most mammals are born with 50% of their adult brain, whereas humans are born with 25%. And how long do you think it takes for humans to be at 50% of their adult brain? Thats right. 9 months after birth.

But because we are superior (I'm not being all GO HUMAN! here, just stating the facts) than these other mammals, it has proven to be extremely beneficial to be born so immature. "The infant is not a passive creature who is shaped by his environment, but is constantly exploring, trying to learn, and bring the environment under his control." (Karen, Ph.D, R.) Long story short, humans shape their environment, more so than the environment shapes them. The critical first nine months after birth, when the baby is still extremely immature and developmentally incomplete, are vital to the baby's development. Think how much more the baby learns while his brain is growing faster than it ever will again, being outside of the womb with all of the sights and sounds and smells and tastes of the world around him.

We are one of the few societies that isn't constantly attached to our babies. We are breast feeding less and less, working more and more, and plenty of us consider picking up a crying baby spoiling it. (Post on this for another day. I'm sure your retinas are already bleeding.) The fact of the matter is, throughout most of history, if we took care of babies as we do today, bottle feeding, leaving them for work, sleeping in different rooms, etc, we would not have survived as a species.

"Nature intended for babies to be with their mothers, especially at a time when their brains will grow more than any other time in their lives. Babies could not have been born developmentally incomplete and left alone most of the day or separated from their mothers if we were to survive as a species. No matter however numerous its advantages, however, retardation of growth rates and birth at an earlier state of gestation could never have occurred had there not been compensating care taking behavior on the part of the mother."

So what does this mean for us as a family? It means we'll be sleeping together for awhile. It means I'll be staying home as a mommy. It means I will do everything in my power to breastfeed, and will go into thinking and KNOWING I can do it. It means this little love duck (love duck? Really, where do I come up with these names?) of ours will be attached to me. A lot. Thanks to this:

Enter: The Sleepy Wrap. Weird name, but from all of my research, this is one of the best wraps out there, and wraps are one of the best carriers out there. Once the little tyke gets to be about a year, we'll switch to a Mei Tai of the BabyHawk Brand.

So there you have it. Part of our plan to be the best parents we can be. Part of the whole 'best parents we can be' thing, though, is knowing that every child is different. That plans can change, that life can throw curve balls and that things may not end up exactly like we'd like them to. But this is what we feel will best suit our family and our baby and so this is what we're aiming for. And we'll try are darnedest to make it work.