This is a good reminder to cherish the kids still needing me now, even though everyday I wish I have some 'me' time. In a few years time, we will probably have a role reversal for sure. They will have their own minds and will probably have (or want) nothing to do with me, while I will desperately bug them. Haha!
Seriously it is my wish I will have a close bond with them when they are old. I will be happiest (and luckiest) when they will love me and still look for me as much as they do now.
'I Love Being Your Mom Because Even The Hardest Days Are The Best Days'
by: Jennifer White
I remember the day I gave birth to you like it was yesterday. But it wasn’t. It was two years ago.
I remember the second night with you in the hospital. Your dad had gone home to help your older sister get to sleep. He’d stayed as late as he could. My mom came in his place and slept on the hard, fake leather sofa in our room. She slept, but I didn’t. You didn’t. (You were a newborn baby after all — who would expect you to?)
I lay there on the uncomfortable bed, slightly tilted into a half-reclined, half-upright position, wondering if I’d made a mistake.
Could I handle more years of sleepless nights?
Could I handle two small children by myself when your dad went back to work?
Could I be a good enough mother?
The answer to all of these questions was “no.”
The truth was it would be hard. The reality is I called your dad at work several times a day crying. The brutal fact is I’m so flawed, as a person and as a mom.
But I didn’t make a mistake.
And now you’re 2, and I already know why they say things like, “It won’t last forever,” or “Don’t be the first to let go when your child hugs you.” I understand, too, that I’m not a good enough mother, but I’m what you’ve got.
I’m not in awe of you enough. I’m not always happy just sitting together and reading books. Sometimes I want to read on my phone instead. Sometimes I do.
But these days with tiny-you — even our hardest ones — are always my best.
Still, it hits me every night as bedtime approaches. Waves of our day’s moments when I could have been more present — when I should have reacted differently, when I needed to stop my own thoughts and be more available for yours — crash into me, and it hurts. It hurts because I’m not sorry.
I’m not sorry for sometimes wishing bedtime would come sooner. I’m not sorry for wanting desperately to just sit on the couch, alone. But what hurts is knowing each of these moments quickly add up, as I see your tiny face grow into more of a little girl and so much less of a toddler.
What hurts is witnessing how each day you need me less and less, and each day I have to let go a little bit more.
What hurts is knowing these minutes of you clinging to me and needing me for nearly everything are becoming fewer and fewer, until one day you’ll be left to choose how much of your time is spent with me.
What hurts is wondering if you’ll feel how infinitely I love you despite my marred humanness.
I remember the day I had you like it was yesterday. But it wasn’t. It was two years ago. Before I know it, it will be 20.
Before I know it, I won’t remember it as clearly.
Before I know it, I’ll be an older, wiser mother annoying new mothers with “how fast it goes.”
Before I know it, my memories of your babyhood will be what I hold closely instead of your tiny hand.
Being your mother is the hardest, best thing I’ve ever done. Being your mother is the hardest, best thing I’ll ever do.
I lay there on the uncomfortable bed, slightly tilted into a half-reclined, half-upright position, wondering if I’d made a mistake.
I didn’t. You remind me of this every day.
Every time your shining blue eyes twinkle at mine in a giggle, or your angry brow furrows in my direction, I see who I’ve made, and I know of the many, many mistakes I have and will make, their best correction will always be you.
Sunday, February 19, 2017
Monday, February 13, 2017
Routines
I am a strong advocate of routines when it comes to the kids. I always stick close to our routines. My dad told me once I sounded like a drill sergeant. Hehe! My mom in law also didn't understood at first why we had to let the kids have strict nap times. My husband also gets frustrated at times when I had to rush home, just so we could let the kids sleep on time. Other family members probably thought I was crazy. Good thing I stumbled upon these articles from Janet Lansbury and Maga Gerber, which validated how routines can help kids with their development. Phew! I was starting to doubt myself already if we were doing the right approach (but really, there isn't any right or wrong approach when it comes to parenting. Whatever suits the family.).
Now that the kids are older, we still try to follow a consistent routine as much as possible. But we also try to be more flexible with it. I'm okay with skipping naps sometimes. I'm okay with Rafa napping in the car instead or Claire having her lunch a bit later than usual. Unlike before, I try not to stress too much anymore if we don't get to follow our routine on some days. I just adjust accordingly.
'Empowering Our Babies With Rituals'
by: Janet Lansbury
Bore that I am, I do the exact same thing every morning. Up before my family, I turn on the tea kettle and walk to the street with Dulce (our Ridgeback- Pitbull-whatever rescue dog) to collect the LA Times. (Yes, I still read hard copy sometimes.) Then I make a smoothie with vitamin powder, soy milk and frozen fruit while I steep green tea. Alternate sips of hot tea and cold smoothie miraculously transform the beast. As Lumière, the candlestick in the Disney musical sang, “…I’m human again. Only human again. Poised and polished and gleaming with charm…”
I like to break out and do different things once in awhile, but one of the many things I have in common with babies (arrested development?) is my attraction to routine. My habits have shifted over the years, and some have been healthier than others, but they’ve always given me comfort. I look forward to these rituals and really like knowing I can depend on them.
Imagine what it’s like to be an infant. The world is all brand new — a fascinating, stimulating sensory delight — but the constant transitions, surprises and novelty can be intense and overwhelming. Combine that with the fact that we are growing, changing more rapidly than we ever will, so even what we know can feel different the next day. (Like the way my adolescent daughter feels when she wakes at noon and thinks the kitchen table and her mom have shrunk because she’s grown a half inch.)
We need responsive, reliable parents and caregivers to feel secure, but wouldn’t it also be nice to depend on some daily experiences? To be able to predict, for example, that after our morning meal and diaper change we’ll go to a familiar place to play. Or know that after our dinner and evening bath we will enjoy a book, close the shades, hear a lullaby we’ve begun to recognize and be gently placed in a cozy bed to sleep.
In a life full of changes we cannot control, creating routines and rituals is one of the most respectful and empowering things we can do for our babies.
Infant expert Magda Gerber emphasized the importance of establishing a daily sequence of events — not arbitrarily imposed, inflexible, or on the clock, but formed together with our babies in response to their individual needs. “In a predictable environment, and with regular, dependable schedules, they feel comfortable, cry less, and life is easier for both infant and parents. Infants who do not need to adjust to too much unnecessary stimulation will eventually regulate their sleeping and eating patterns. This regularity will, in turn, give parents some predictable time for their own needs and interests.”
It takes a little time to find a rhythm with our babies. Even in the giddy, chaotic, sleepless first days with a newborn, we can begin by getting into the habit of telling our infant what will happen next. “I’m going to carry you to the diaper table. Then we will unsnap your pajamas.” Soon our baby learns what he can expect. He feels more participatory in experiences he can predict and anticipate for himself. “After I drink milk in the morning, we usually go outside to my playpen under the tree.”
As our infants become toddlers, it’s easy to recognize that even the simplest rituals empower them. And when children know what to expect, they are inspired to immerse themselves in an experience and gain more pleasure from it. If I had any doubt about babies loving rituals, it would be shattered by the way the children in my life have always enjoyed creating them on their own.
One example of this began spontaneously. Snack time in my weekly Parent – Toddler Classes is all about ritual. Each ceremonial step is anticipated and relished by the children, and as they get older they gradually help and participate more, physically, communicatively, and then verbally. First we place the mat on the floor, or the deck outside if it’s nice weather. Then we bring out the table and stools. The children who want to participate sit, and we take turns washing hands with a wet cloth. Then each child chooses a bib. Next they get a turn to help peel the first banana, and are then are offered pieces to eat. After eating some banana we bring out the glasses (yes, glasses!) and little glass carafes from which the toddlers learn to pour water into their glasses…and boy, do they love that part.
One day, a 17 month old boy choked a little and coughed when he drank a sip of water, so I patted him gently on the back. He then coughed again, and I repeated the patting. Then a girl at the table coughed. When I responded with a pat, she grinned. Before long others tried it too, and we all laughed uproariously. Predictably, fake coughing, patting and laughing became a reliable and highly anticipated addition to our snack ritual each week.
Some believe that our babies will learn to be more adaptable if we expose them to our hectic lives. They argue that the parent’s constant presence and responsive care is the only consistency a baby needs to feel secure. The years Magda Gerber spent studying infants led her to disagree. “Being exposed to circumstances we cannot anticipate nor understand, and in which we cannot actively participate, makes us feel helpless, like riding on a perpetual merry-go-round. Anticipating a change, on the other hand, gives us a feeling of being prepared, of being in control,” she wrote in Dear Parent – Caring For Infants With Respect.
Magda believed that a secure, self-confident baby who has had the opportunity to build trust in his environment is more flexible and amenable to changes in his routine, and I’ve found this to be true with my children. They have quite different personalities, but all three are amazingly secure, self-confident, independent and much more adaptable to change than I ever was…or probably ever will be.
*Adding this article I read from Magda Gerber's website,
The easiest way to develop good habits in general is to have a predictable daily life. Young babies thrive on routine. Ideally, daily events of eating, sleeping, bathing, outdoor play, etc., happen around the same time and in the same sequence each day. As the baby is learning to anticipate the next event, many conflicts are eliminated. A mutual adaptation of the biological rhythm of your baby and your family schedule develops. It also enables you, the parent, to plan ahead for those blocks of rime when your baby is usually napping or playing peacefully.
Now that the kids are older, we still try to follow a consistent routine as much as possible. But we also try to be more flexible with it. I'm okay with skipping naps sometimes. I'm okay with Rafa napping in the car instead or Claire having her lunch a bit later than usual. Unlike before, I try not to stress too much anymore if we don't get to follow our routine on some days. I just adjust accordingly.
'Empowering Our Babies With Rituals'
by: Janet Lansbury
Bore that I am, I do the exact same thing every morning. Up before my family, I turn on the tea kettle and walk to the street with Dulce (our Ridgeback- Pitbull-whatever rescue dog) to collect the LA Times. (Yes, I still read hard copy sometimes.) Then I make a smoothie with vitamin powder, soy milk and frozen fruit while I steep green tea. Alternate sips of hot tea and cold smoothie miraculously transform the beast. As Lumière, the candlestick in the Disney musical sang, “…I’m human again. Only human again. Poised and polished and gleaming with charm…”
I like to break out and do different things once in awhile, but one of the many things I have in common with babies (arrested development?) is my attraction to routine. My habits have shifted over the years, and some have been healthier than others, but they’ve always given me comfort. I look forward to these rituals and really like knowing I can depend on them.
Imagine what it’s like to be an infant. The world is all brand new — a fascinating, stimulating sensory delight — but the constant transitions, surprises and novelty can be intense and overwhelming. Combine that with the fact that we are growing, changing more rapidly than we ever will, so even what we know can feel different the next day. (Like the way my adolescent daughter feels when she wakes at noon and thinks the kitchen table and her mom have shrunk because she’s grown a half inch.)
We need responsive, reliable parents and caregivers to feel secure, but wouldn’t it also be nice to depend on some daily experiences? To be able to predict, for example, that after our morning meal and diaper change we’ll go to a familiar place to play. Or know that after our dinner and evening bath we will enjoy a book, close the shades, hear a lullaby we’ve begun to recognize and be gently placed in a cozy bed to sleep.
In a life full of changes we cannot control, creating routines and rituals is one of the most respectful and empowering things we can do for our babies.
Infant expert Magda Gerber emphasized the importance of establishing a daily sequence of events — not arbitrarily imposed, inflexible, or on the clock, but formed together with our babies in response to their individual needs. “In a predictable environment, and with regular, dependable schedules, they feel comfortable, cry less, and life is easier for both infant and parents. Infants who do not need to adjust to too much unnecessary stimulation will eventually regulate their sleeping and eating patterns. This regularity will, in turn, give parents some predictable time for their own needs and interests.”
It takes a little time to find a rhythm with our babies. Even in the giddy, chaotic, sleepless first days with a newborn, we can begin by getting into the habit of telling our infant what will happen next. “I’m going to carry you to the diaper table. Then we will unsnap your pajamas.” Soon our baby learns what he can expect. He feels more participatory in experiences he can predict and anticipate for himself. “After I drink milk in the morning, we usually go outside to my playpen under the tree.”
As our infants become toddlers, it’s easy to recognize that even the simplest rituals empower them. And when children know what to expect, they are inspired to immerse themselves in an experience and gain more pleasure from it. If I had any doubt about babies loving rituals, it would be shattered by the way the children in my life have always enjoyed creating them on their own.
One example of this began spontaneously. Snack time in my weekly Parent – Toddler Classes is all about ritual. Each ceremonial step is anticipated and relished by the children, and as they get older they gradually help and participate more, physically, communicatively, and then verbally. First we place the mat on the floor, or the deck outside if it’s nice weather. Then we bring out the table and stools. The children who want to participate sit, and we take turns washing hands with a wet cloth. Then each child chooses a bib. Next they get a turn to help peel the first banana, and are then are offered pieces to eat. After eating some banana we bring out the glasses (yes, glasses!) and little glass carafes from which the toddlers learn to pour water into their glasses…and boy, do they love that part.
One day, a 17 month old boy choked a little and coughed when he drank a sip of water, so I patted him gently on the back. He then coughed again, and I repeated the patting. Then a girl at the table coughed. When I responded with a pat, she grinned. Before long others tried it too, and we all laughed uproariously. Predictably, fake coughing, patting and laughing became a reliable and highly anticipated addition to our snack ritual each week.
Some believe that our babies will learn to be more adaptable if we expose them to our hectic lives. They argue that the parent’s constant presence and responsive care is the only consistency a baby needs to feel secure. The years Magda Gerber spent studying infants led her to disagree. “Being exposed to circumstances we cannot anticipate nor understand, and in which we cannot actively participate, makes us feel helpless, like riding on a perpetual merry-go-round. Anticipating a change, on the other hand, gives us a feeling of being prepared, of being in control,” she wrote in Dear Parent – Caring For Infants With Respect.
Magda believed that a secure, self-confident baby who has had the opportunity to build trust in his environment is more flexible and amenable to changes in his routine, and I’ve found this to be true with my children. They have quite different personalities, but all three are amazingly secure, self-confident, independent and much more adaptable to change than I ever was…or probably ever will be.
*Adding this article I read from Magda Gerber's website,
The easiest way to develop good habits in general is to have a predictable daily life. Young babies thrive on routine. Ideally, daily events of eating, sleeping, bathing, outdoor play, etc., happen around the same time and in the same sequence each day. As the baby is learning to anticipate the next event, many conflicts are eliminated. A mutual adaptation of the biological rhythm of your baby and your family schedule develops. It also enables you, the parent, to plan ahead for those blocks of rime when your baby is usually napping or playing peacefully.
Monday, February 6, 2017
Saturday, February 4, 2017
Stop and Pause
While Rafa is only 5 years old now, I'll probably have the same feelings like the author below, when the time comes that he will not be needing me (as much) anymore. I can already see it coming, as he is slowly becoming his own independent person. While there are days that I wish he would grow up fast, this article is a good reminder that I should savor each moment (good and bad) he calls for me, no matter how kulit he is sometimes. I'm happy I still have 2 years before he officially turns into a big boy...until then, he is still (and will always be) my baby boy.
'What Lies On The Other Side of Six'
by: KLeClair
After tucking my 7-year-old boy into bed, after the noise of the day has turned into silence and my thoughts are the loudest sound in the room. After I’ve collapsed onto the couch from another dizzying day of parenting, this low and dull ache begins to form in my chest. Seizing my breath and gripping my heart until I have no choice but to focus in and acknowledge the rapid speed with which time is passing.
I instantly feel panic and my mind is scattered as I try to remember the last time I really looked at my boy, the last time I really held onto him, the last time he really needed me. He’s growing older with every blink of my eyes and becoming who he’s meant to be faster than I ever thought possible.
Gone is the baby whose survival depended on me. Gone is the little boy who constantly looked to me for guidance and approval. Arrived is this now 7-year-old boy who has unwavering confidence in his choices, thoughts disconnected from my own and a deep desire for independence. In some ways, it feels as though this metamorphosis happened overnight. But the time that’s passed tells a different story. We’ve spent the last seven years building up to this. I just didn’t know it was coming so quickly. I didn’t know by seven he’d already be racing towards what lies on the other side of my four walls.
Back in what now feels like the distant past when it was just my sweet baby and I caught in the crossfire of endless feedings, diaper changes and sleep training, time seemed to stretch out in front of us for what felt like an infinite period. In those early years of being a first-time mom life is such a blur of meeting milestones that you’re completely unaware of the significant and precious time that’s slipping right through your exhausted fingertips. You are merely surviving. Employing massive amounts of caffeine to see you through the fog. During that phase you’re physically unable to imagine how quickly you and your child will progress from each stage of life to the next as you rush along, rarely pausing to breathe in the very moment where you stand. No one tells you that one day you’ll turn to look at your baby and that baby will be gone.
The reality is, this boy, my first born, was never meant to be mine forever. Contrary to what my heart tells me each time I see him take another step towards the outside world. I want to shout out, “Hey, where are you going? You belong to me.” But he was always meant to move on and make his own mark. Just like his time in the womb couldn’t be forever, his time in my home won’t be forever. He will be here just long enough to gain his footing, mature, and then move on to his next phase.
When he turned seven, this realization kind of came out of nowhere and hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt stunned. Like the wind had been knocked out of me. Of course this was always going to happen. Seasons change, time silently ticks from one minute to the next and children inevitably grow up. I know this. It just hadn’t occurred to me until we hit seven. I guess my head was down and I wasn’t paying attention. And now, here we are.
I’ve been making a deliberate effort to stand in the moment more. Feel the weight of his growing body as he crashes into me for a hug, the sloppy kisses that he still doles out lovingly, at bedtime only, of course. The look of his face each day as it gradually morphs and shapes into that of a mature boy and less of my little boy.
I’ve tried to put the pause button on more and consciously reflect on the seven years of hugs, kisses and love that we’ve shared. And while the ache for my baby doesn’t immediately subside, it slowly turns into gratitude for the time we’ve had. I finally take that much needed breath while my slumbering child is still safely in a place where I can see him and gaze for just a moment longer before the next phase unexpectedly comes along.
'What Lies On The Other Side of Six'
by: KLeClair
After tucking my 7-year-old boy into bed, after the noise of the day has turned into silence and my thoughts are the loudest sound in the room. After I’ve collapsed onto the couch from another dizzying day of parenting, this low and dull ache begins to form in my chest. Seizing my breath and gripping my heart until I have no choice but to focus in and acknowledge the rapid speed with which time is passing.
I instantly feel panic and my mind is scattered as I try to remember the last time I really looked at my boy, the last time I really held onto him, the last time he really needed me. He’s growing older with every blink of my eyes and becoming who he’s meant to be faster than I ever thought possible.
Gone is the baby whose survival depended on me. Gone is the little boy who constantly looked to me for guidance and approval. Arrived is this now 7-year-old boy who has unwavering confidence in his choices, thoughts disconnected from my own and a deep desire for independence. In some ways, it feels as though this metamorphosis happened overnight. But the time that’s passed tells a different story. We’ve spent the last seven years building up to this. I just didn’t know it was coming so quickly. I didn’t know by seven he’d already be racing towards what lies on the other side of my four walls.
Back in what now feels like the distant past when it was just my sweet baby and I caught in the crossfire of endless feedings, diaper changes and sleep training, time seemed to stretch out in front of us for what felt like an infinite period. In those early years of being a first-time mom life is such a blur of meeting milestones that you’re completely unaware of the significant and precious time that’s slipping right through your exhausted fingertips. You are merely surviving. Employing massive amounts of caffeine to see you through the fog. During that phase you’re physically unable to imagine how quickly you and your child will progress from each stage of life to the next as you rush along, rarely pausing to breathe in the very moment where you stand. No one tells you that one day you’ll turn to look at your baby and that baby will be gone.
The reality is, this boy, my first born, was never meant to be mine forever. Contrary to what my heart tells me each time I see him take another step towards the outside world. I want to shout out, “Hey, where are you going? You belong to me.” But he was always meant to move on and make his own mark. Just like his time in the womb couldn’t be forever, his time in my home won’t be forever. He will be here just long enough to gain his footing, mature, and then move on to his next phase.
When he turned seven, this realization kind of came out of nowhere and hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt stunned. Like the wind had been knocked out of me. Of course this was always going to happen. Seasons change, time silently ticks from one minute to the next and children inevitably grow up. I know this. It just hadn’t occurred to me until we hit seven. I guess my head was down and I wasn’t paying attention. And now, here we are.
I’ve been making a deliberate effort to stand in the moment more. Feel the weight of his growing body as he crashes into me for a hug, the sloppy kisses that he still doles out lovingly, at bedtime only, of course. The look of his face each day as it gradually morphs and shapes into that of a mature boy and less of my little boy.
I’ve tried to put the pause button on more and consciously reflect on the seven years of hugs, kisses and love that we’ve shared. And while the ache for my baby doesn’t immediately subside, it slowly turns into gratitude for the time we’ve had. I finally take that much needed breath while my slumbering child is still safely in a place where I can see him and gaze for just a moment longer before the next phase unexpectedly comes along.
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