Astoriamom

"You can cut my toe nails, but you can never cut...my hair!"

Last November, our family went through a harrowing experience. Nate got his hair cut. As Nate proudly told people afterwards, he had a complete meltdown. Screaming, crying, wiggling.The kind Russian barber patiently said that he didn't mind. He kept asking Nate if it hurt, but Nate inexplicably said, "Yes, it really hurts!" To top it off, he then peed all over himself. I have no idea why he behaved this way. He had been quietly nervous for past haircuts, but always sat wide-eyed and still throughout the process. Needless to say, we were not overly anxious for a repeat performance.

So Nate's hair has been steadily growing since. Around Easter and then again before his preschool step-up ceremony, I broached the subject of a possible haircut. Not a happy topic. Nate generally screams when I try to cut his toe nails (which is why they resemble vampire fingernails half the time), so I knew the extent of his hair cut opposition when he yelled with passion, "You can cut my toe nails, but you can never cut...my hair!"

I am not particularly concerned if his hair is a bit shaggy or if he just prefers a surfer style. But I knew that it was fear not fashion which lay behind this hair cut boycott. And tangled knots in his hair had started to form unattractive dreadlocks which he refused to let me comb out. So the mane had to go. And I knew of only one way to accomplish this task without trauma for all parties involved: a bribe.

I basically just asked Nate, what can I give you to get you to have a hair cut? His answer surprised me somewhat: a chocolate cream egg. It seemed relatively simple. No expensive electronics (not that I would have succumbed to that) or taboo toys (he knows that I am opposed to anything gun-shaped), just a sweet treat. But it turned out not to be so simple. Not many (or any) places carry chocolate eggs at non-Easter times. Thankfully, you can find almost anything on Amazon. 

So yesterday, armed with my Cadbury egg from Amazon, I told Nate he would be getting his hair cut. More screaming. He is off chocolate eggs, he said. "When I am four, you can cut my hair," he reasoned. Of course, he turns four next week...Finally we agreed on a triple bribe - he could use the iPad while getting his hair cut, have the chocolate egg after, and then his dad and I would take him to a playground of his choosing. It worked. With quiet nervousness, Nate played Angry Birds while a patient hairdresser trimmed off his tangled locks. I don't think he played his best game and he refused the hair buzzer, but that was fine with us. He enjoyed his cream egg and even more enjoyed his time at the castle playground near my parents' house with his dad.

This experience has confirmed two of my beliefs. 1. Bribery is a completely acceptable and useful form of parenting. 2. There is absolutely no need for more than one haircut a year. The one hair cut a year plan for Nate will save money, tears, and give him a chance to rock that surfer style.

 

Newborn vs. Toddler

 

Some people are baby people. They love babies - the way they smell, the way they look, the way they depend on you for their every need...I am not one of those people. While I think newborn babies are kind of cute, I also find them vaguely inhuman. They can't talk, they can barely interact, they can't even eat food. In recent discussions with mom friends, I learned that some of them truly miss the newborn stage. For me, that stage proved the most difficult part of motherhood so far. I think it just keeps getting better. Give me a toddler tantrum over a colicky baby any day! 

Now I know all newborns and toddlers differ. But here's why I prefer mothering a toddler:

1. They can tell you what's wrong. I find few things more frustrating than a having a baby cry for no apparent reason. This occurrence was rare with Nate, but with Willa it happened, well, all day long. I would change her diaper, nurse her, swaddle her, rock her, and she would still cry. Perhaps she just needed the exercise. Now if she cries, I can ask her what's wrong and generally she will tell me, fairly eloquently. Often the answer has something to do with Nate, a toy she wants, or the desire for candy, so I can't always solve the problem. But at least I know.

2. They can walk. Some moms find it harder when children become more mobile. Not me. From the time Willa was crawling, she climbed up furniture. But since she couldn't support herself, she was far more likely to injure herself. Now with sturdy legs that can run, climb ladders, and go up stairs, her balance has improved and she is less likely to fall. Plus, this means I don't have to constantly carry her.

3. They can play with each other. Yes, Nate and Willa fight a fair amount. But they can also do something else now that Willa is bigger. They can play. Some of my favorite motherhood moments so far have been watching them together, sharing legos, Nate teaching Willa about colors or telling her that she made a beautiful building. Yes, this play often degrades into a battle for toys or tower destruction. But I love watching their interaction and I think it will only become more enriching as they get older.

4. They can eat regular food. I was lucky to have no nursing issues, so I nursed each kid exclusively for 6 months. I weaned Nate at 18 months and am still nursing Willa at nap and bedtime. I enjoy nursing. But as newborns, these kids were insatiable. Nate literally nursed every hour. And by that I mean, I could start nursing him at 12, be done at 12:20 and then at 1, he'd want to nurse again. And that was 24 hours a day. My only memory of those early days of motherhood is complete exhaustion. Willa spaced out her feedings maybe an hour longer, but still at least every two hours, 24 hours a day. Not only does this mean a mom of a newborn gets no sleep, but her calories (if nursing) are constantly depleted by this tiny creature. Newborns literally suck the energy out of you. My toddler, in contrast, sits with us at our three meals and eats what we eat (more or less). She can even feed herself. Our mealtimes may be messy and chaotic, but at least we can have them together.

5. They can tell you what they want to eat. I love that I can ask Willa what she wants for breakfast and she'll answer. Generally, waffles, pancakes, or Cheerios. She does often change her mind, but at least we have a starting point.

6. They have less dirty diapers. True, breast milk poop smells a lot better than toddler poop. But I am over changing 10 dirty diapers a day. I'll take a few stinky toddler loads over that frequency anytime.

7. They understand directions. They may not follow them, but they do understand. I can tell Willa to pick out a story or get her blankie or pick out her brother's clothes (a task that has become a morning ritual which she very much enjoys) and she understands. And frequently she does actually do it!

8. They sing. This one is super sweet. We have several baby books with songs "Hush, little baby" and "Star Light" that Willa has started singing. I first heard her singing the songs as she looked at the books on her own. She has a ways to go in terms of melody, but I love the sound of her singing.

9. They hug. Newborns can't hug. The most they can do is squeeze your figure, which is very endearing. But now Willa can give a big, bear hug that just fills me with joy.

10. They say, "I love you, Mommy". I never get tired of hearing this phrase. Willa just started saying it this month, usually accompanied by a hug and a kiss. What a sweet girl she is!

I do think that Willa was a particularly difficult baby and is a particularly wonderful toddler, but I am so proud of how much she has grown. I am not in any rush for my children to grow up completely. I will indeed miss this stage and I know a time will come when parenthood gets more complicated - the adolescent years always pose a challenge. But for me the bond between me and my children has strengthened as they have grown and I find the rewards of motherhood that much sweeter. 

 

 

Strangers with Candy

We had a lovely morning at the park today, but as we were preparing to leave something disturbing happened. I was gathering up our chalk with Willa when I looked up and saw Nate sucking on a lollipop with a big smile on his face.

I had not brought any lollipops to the park, nor were we there with any friends who might have supplied him with a lollipop. I asked him where he got it and he pointed to a woman I had never seen before sitting on a park bench. 

I was furious. Apparently, this unknown woman, who was there with a little girl I recognized, had just offered him the lollipop without even bothering to ask me or tell him to ask me. Who does that? Not only did she not know us, but it was also noon, so she might have guessed it was close to lunchtime even if it was at all acceptable to offer candy to a child without checking with his mother, which of course it is not. 

I was left with the enjoyable task of prying the lollipop away from Nate (it went in the garbage) and managing to collect our things to leave the park. I stopped by the woman on our way out and asked her if she had given my son a lollipop. She shrugged, not even bothering to answer me. I told her that she shouldn't have done that without checking with me, but had no time for more words because Nate began having a full-out meltdown.

He cried over the lollipop the entire walk home. I explained that he should never accept candy or food from anyone without checking with me first (unless it was someone he knew). I tried to tell him without scaring him that there were people who were not nice and might give him candy that could make him sick. He insisted that the woman had been very nice. And I just said maybe she was, but he should never take food from someone without asking me first. 

Stranger danger is a tough topic to talk about with kids so young. How to explain to a 3-year-old to be wary of people he doesn't know without overstimulating the fears of his already over-active imagination may be a difficult task. And I know that car accidents pose a much greater risk than any sort of abduction or other foul play (rates of which in the city have been steadily dropping for over a decade), so I am far more nervous about him getting into a car than being snatched from under my nose at the park. But of course it is still important to teach your children to be wary of people they don't know, particularly strangers with candy. 

Motherly Guilt

At a recent Mom's night out, we discussed our respective work/ childcare situations. A mixed group, one mom serves as the primary earner (her husband works part-time from home and does most of the childcare), another mom works full-time as does her husband (their child is in daycare) and then me (a stay-at-home mom). Our situations and specific problems vary greatly. But we share one common issue: guilt.

Even before the birth of her child, a mother might start experiencing motherly guilt. For pregnant women, what to eat/ not eat, to exercise/ not exercise, her weight gain or lack thereof can all contribute to feelings of guilt. But motherly guilt increases exponentially after the baby's birth. Loaded issues such as breastfeeding, sleep, the baby's weight gain can all increase the guilt new mothers feel. But possibly the biggest contributor to motherly guilt for the new mom? The decision of whether or not to return to work.

With no minimum maternity leave with full pay in this country, many mothers need to return to work as soon as possible. The meager 3 months of unpaid maternal (or paternal, though very few fathers take it) leave required through FMLA barely allows for physical recovery from birth (especially given the high number of C-sections in this country), let alone bonding with your child. Almost every other developed country gives mothers more maternity leave with full pay and more support than here.  

In our discussion at that late night out, the two working mothers felt very guilty about their time away from their children. One talked about adding up the hours she spent away and how it was painful to sacrifice any waking hours that she could spend with her child to something else.

Spending nearly every minute with my two kids, I love the rare chance for a break or some alone time. A shower seems like a trip to the spa, going to the bathroom on my own is a treat, and going to the grocery market without the kids is a day out. When I'm sleep-deprived and low on patience, I sometimes wonder if a nanny or a daycare might do a better job with the kids. At least, the workers there might have had full-night's sleep! And all this makes me feel - well, guilty.

I understand how fortunate we are that I can stay home. Few families have the luxury of one parent devoted to childcare full-time and I know to many people it seems ideal. But I find it the hardest job I have ever had. The benefits may be great, but the work is pretty exhausting and you don't really get any time off. I initially decided to stay home for both emotional and practical reasons. After Sylvie's loss, I wanted to focus on my family. And my meandering career path (or lack thereof) meant that my meager income would barely cover the cost of childcare. 

Raised in a double-income household with fairly evenly split parental and financial responsibilities, I find myself feeling very guilty about the fact that I currently do not earn an income. I review past decisions I made, from my college major (Anthropology) to specific jobs I took/ did not take. Interested in so many different things (primatology, acting, psychology, writing, teaching), I lacked a specific career goal that might have led to a lucrative profession. The fact that I have experience in several different fields has made me a well-rounded person and perhaps helps me as a mother. But it makes for a lousy resume. 

My guilt stems not only from the practical fact that I do not add to the household income, but also from my concern of how my role will shape the future goals of my children. Am I reinforcing traditional gender roles which might influence their career choices later on? I want Willa to feel free to pursue an engaging career and not assume that childcare or cooking are a woman's responsibility. And I certainly don't want Nate to grow up thinking that mothers should be responsible for all domestic duties and that he can't choose to be a stay-at-home dad. My mother's career definitely influenced my own thoughts on equality and I want to pass on the same progressive ideas to my children. I do plan to return to work, hopefully in a similar role to my last job in college administration, when Willa begins preschool. But so many years out of the work force will most likely shape both my future employment and the ideas my children develop.

As our children grow, new causes for motherly guilt will arise. Whether it's what kindergarten they attend, what activities they enjoy, how well they do in school, or what college they get into, any number of issues can contribute to motherly guilt. Mothers need to accept that neither they nor their children are perfect and we will all make mistakes. But we can try to move past these mistakes and feelings of motherly guilt with something even stronger: motherly love.