I want my Mommy (Part I)

babysguidetorulingtheworld:

I love The Mommy. There’s no doubt about that. I know she loves me too, because even I know you gotta love someone A LOT to use those wet tissues to wipe the poopies off my butt.

So like always I’ve been trying to find a way to spend more time with The Mommy. Most days she leaves me with Miss J and all those other babies. She comes back after who knows how long (just because I can say clock doesn’t mean I know how to read one, people), and her and The Daddy give me lots of attention when we get home (over compensating much?) but why have attention for only a couple hours a night? I deserve – no it’s our god given RIGHT as babies – to have attention 24/7!

So here’s what I’ve been experimenting with – at drop-off at daycare make sure you cry. LOTS. None of that weak-sauce crying you do when dad does the drop-off. While The Mommy and The Daddy collude together, I know that a chain is only as strong as the weakest link, and The Mommy is always the weakest link when it comes to us. So when she hands you over to Miss J, start with a bang not a whimper! Do the pain cry – you know, like that time you hit your head on the coffee table. Make sure you squirm in Miss J’s arms. A few kicks here and there might be okay (sorry Miss J – all for the greater good). It’s hard, but hero points if you manage to throw up a bit of breakfast on Miss J. Oh, but here’s the important part – The Mommy’s gotta be watching all of it. As soon as she’s rounded the corner and out of sight, you can stop crying - don’t waste your energy. Rather, conserve it, because while you can’t see The Mommy, rest assured that she’s only walked down the hall or is just waiting behind the corner. At this stage be VERY alert – she’s about to make an appearance and it’s probably gonna be a really quick one. As soon as you see her, start up again. If you’re on the floor, run to her. If Miss J’s still got you, do the squirm and kick. If you’re holding something do a signature coup de grace move - drop whatever you’ve got in your hands and reach for her (akin to Dave Chappelle’s Rick James impression).

I’ve managed to round up a few cohorts, Clora and Liam, to try this experiment on their mommies. Managed to get them in during free-play near the Playskool kitchen. I made sure to dump a few fake peppers on Liam’s head while giving them the low-down, so as not to tip-off Miss J. I’ll keep you all posted on how the experiment’s going.

Saying Thank You

I thanked my labor and delivery nurse, Pearl at Overlake Hospital in Bellevue WA, last Monday - 18 months after my daughter was born.

Clearly it was a long over-due thanks. But it was better late than never! My super nurse friend (check out her blog!) urged me to do it. I always wanted to, but felt the length of time passed would sour the appreciation. But my friend made me realize that it could never be so; that being remembered even years afterwards still says volumes. 

When I saw Pearl, I burst into tears. Lots of hugs and thanks and, guess what? It meant so much to her as well. Pearl was there when I needed her, when my husband and I were uncertain, scared, needed information; when I needed reassurance. We will never forget her. My friend has related to me that that it’s the nurses who are the best at their job that get the “shaft” so to speak; they get the hardest and longest shifts because, well, they’re the best. So hurrah today for all the great nurses out there!

I didn’t intend on crying that day. But a lot more than just “thanks” I think came flooding back when I stepped out of the elevator onto that floor. The surreal feeling of having my 1.5 year old sitting in the waiting room of the place where I clutched her father’s hand, where I toiled, where I endured, where she made her grand entrance into the world; this was the place where our family became complete. And I will never forget that, either.

Fathering

“Fathering is not something perfect men do, but something that perfects the man. The end product of child raising is not the child but the parent.”

— Frank Pittman

As I watch him grow from my husband to the father of our child, my husband is testament to perfecting that which is already perfect…

Foundations

Most view a parent as the sculpter and the child as the clay to be molded. We take action to teach them how to eat by guiding the spoon to their mouths, how to draw by helping them hold that crayon, how to clean up by directing them with their toys to the toy bin.

But I think parents underestimate the power of pure and simple modeling. Parenting by example - that needs no action. It’s based on a simple principle: who we are today will shape who our children will become. In the same way my one year old daughter has started mimicing what I say and do, she will start, to some degree, mimicing how I dress, I think, and what I believe in.

We lack emphasis on what our silent example as a person has on a child. Think that eliminating your use of the F-bomb, the “holy $hits” is enough to create a “good” child? That’s the tip of the iceberg. What lies beneath the water - the unadulterated you - is what really matters. Do you have humanity? Do you know humility? Do you have integrity? Adults have a hard time seeing through someone else’s murky waters to that which lies beneath. Why? because they’ve built and amassed the same facade of murky adulthood waters. But children, with their innocence and blessed ignorance, they see right through it all to the core.

In this highly competitive world of parents paying an arm and a leg for their children to attend pre-preschool (yes, preschool for preschool!), art, music, french immersion and math classes - all in the hopes that our little one will be that prodigous preschooler who can read, spell and count before two years old -  we forget that their foundation as a person is most key. And that foundation costs nothing and requires no action to build - it’s you, the parent, leading by example, leading by doing, leading by just being there.

That’s why ever since my daughter was born, I’ve been forced to constantly evaluate, take stock, look deep, make changes - am I a good enough person? Is my foundation strong enough to pass onto my daughter?

Is yours?

The Big Debate

I once watched an Oprah episode years ago called “My Baby or My Job” where they brought on a working mom and a career mom (a stay-at-home mom, a.k.a the SAHM). And not just any ol’ moms - these were moms who were avidly opinionated about their chosen life styles with regards to motherhood.

Back then, long before I was even a mother, I remember agreeing mostly with the working mom’s comments. She just seemed so much more wordly and so much less lazy (gasp! I said it!) than the SAHM. Little did I know that it was my own personal bias, my judgements, already showing through long before I was even a mom. I bet you anything if I were to watch the episode again today - especially as a mother myself who was a full-time working mom and is now a SAHM by choice - the SAHM would seem more reasonable and certainly less lazy. If I were to watch it again today, I would be as confused as I’ve been before about which lifestyle is the right one with respect to our children. But luckily, I now know today that it doesn’t matter who’s right.

One thing I know for sure is that to get on the path of great parenting it’s this: don’t judge other parents. We are all individuals with subtle nuances that make us who we are. Our opinions, reactions, likes/dislikes and, most importantly, our VALUES are different. And all those things drive how we raise our children, and therefore, how we choose to live our lives. There is no camp you have to choose, no side that must be taken - we are all mothers/fathers, we are all in this together. Trust me, even though I haven’t been in this “mother” game for too long, I know that the kids will be alright so long as they are shown quality love and attention - whether the quantity of that love be as frequent as 24/7 or after a hard day’s work at the office.

So move along, people. There ain’t no debate to be had here!

Momma

My daughter wakes up in the morning, rubs her eyes, sits up, and calls for her Momma. She started doing this last month.

Now most people probably think that’s nothing. All children call for their Momma, right? But oh, it’s a big deal to me - and I bet other Mommas understand too!

Sure, people will teasingly call you Momma when you were pregnant, at the pediatrician’s office, maybe that’s just another new name your husband calls you. But when your child looks you straight in the face and calls you Momma, and truly recognizes you as more than just that lady who happens to feed, change her diaper and put her to bed - you know you own that name. And that feeling is just glorious.

Ringing in the new, while reflecting on the old…

“Objects in mirror are closer than they appear.”

That’s the writing on my side-view mirror, which coincidentally is what reflecting on the past year feels like - driving irrevocably forward while still remembering those things behind me that happened in a year that ended just a mere day ago. Here’s what I see magnified in my side-view mirror: 

• I fell sick a million times (daughter was in daycare)
• I celebrated my first mother’s day - where I was the mom being celebrated!
• I had a go at being a full-time working mom…
• …and then finally got the balls to try out the stay-at-home mom gig (goin’ on five months now!)
• I traveled to Hong Kong and Japan - and learned that travelling without your family is like traveling without your heart
• Celebrated my third year of marriage to the best husband in the world
• We had our first no-travel Christmas - my own little family has officially forked from our hometown families! Bittersweet, but now we can celebrate old traditions and make new ones.
• I watched my daughter grow from an infant into a toddler - THE BEST PART OF THE YEAR.

So cheers as I drive toward the new year! 2011 was great, but it’s time to put the pedal to the metal on 2012. Happy new year, it’s gonna be a good year :)

All tucked in

Here’s two facts about my daughter - she has a hard time going or staying asleep and she loves stuffed animals.

Now these seem like typical behaviors of any child, but a month ago I devised a new scheme to use those two facts to make my life better!

Our night-time ritual now includes the “tucking in” of the whole gang. The gang being Bear-Bear, Bun-Bun, Lambie, Monkey, Monkey 2, Dog-Dog and Sheep. On top of that we’ve taught her sign language, so everybody in the gang gets the sign for “tired”, a kiss, and a spot in the crib - until last but not least, it’s my daughter’s turn who gets tucked right into the middle of “the gang”. She’s at that age (15 months old) where she truly understands and can participate in that process. She finally goes willingly into the night. Works for naps too. I don’t know how long this little trick will work, but it’s working now. Hallelujah!

End of the Tunnel

I take my one year old daughter to the play area at our local mall almost every week. Her favorite play structure there is the big ferry, as she can run through the length of the ferry through a little tunnel (the car deck). She’ll run to the entrance of the car deck, and I’ll run to its exit. She’ll see me there on the other side, give me a big smile, maybe start yelling something akin to an Indian chief’s war cry, and hop on the ferry and run through the car deck right into my arms.

She always looks for me at the other end before she runs through. One time I didn’t get to the other side quick enough, and she stood there confused and perplexed. Until I popped into view of course - then I got to see that big grin and those little wobbly legs running towards me.

I love that she looks for me, no, needs me, there at the end of the tunnel. But I do know that one day, she won’t look for me on the other end, or even expect me to be there. Instead she’ll just run right through that tunnel - unafraid, confident, and perhaps recklessly - and continue running onto the next thing. And maybe sometimes she might trip and fall, or run into brutes along the way, or get lost in that tunnel - I worry about that. But I hope she knows that I’m always at the other end, even if she can’t see me waiting there. Because while my hand may only hold her little one for a short while, it’s forever that it will be there to catch her.