Category Archives: Motherhood

Whoosh! (That Was the Sound of Another Month Passing)

Well, I’m here at home on the sofa with a sick kid. She has a fever and congestion. “We” are watching Sesame Street and Between the Lions, after which we’ll try to figure out what else to do. She’s just sick enough to be clingy and well enough to be restless and whiny.

I’ve written very little here lately, in part because I’m rethinking what I want to share. Bean approaches her second birthday, and I’ve converted past posts that provided great detail to private status. It’s time to curtail the posts, out of respect for her privacy. I’m sure cute potty stories won’t be a hit with her when she’s a teen.

Truth be told, I find it easier and more social to spend time on Facebook. It’s more interactive; I can see what friends are up to, and we can comment to each other. I can restrict who can view updates and photos. I am also more inclined to post something when it’s a one-or-two-sentence update; posting here requires more substance, for which I don’t have much time or motivation.

Also, the kinds of topics I want to explore in my writing aren’t ones I want to share with the world. As Bean grows, a whole new set of neuroses and concerns are emerging within me, and while I want to write to explore my thinking and sort things out, I feel protective of myself (with good reason, I have discovered).

In the past two years, I’ve watched this blog go from having about 80 unique visitors a day (not huge) to about 15. I’ve lost my mojo here. And, well, I’ve got a life that I didn’t have before, lived in the here and now.

I won’t close the blog. It has some substance, and much effort was expended to create it. I’ll still post photos of the knitting and whatever occurs to me; I just don’t know what that will be!

Friday’s Fun

Bean colored, I cut, and she “helped” with the tape.

Mommy Worries

How realistic is the expectation that an almost-2 child should self-amuse often and long? I know some mothers whose children of the same age will play for 30-60 minutes by themselves. I sometimes worry that I “play too much” with Bean. I do try to take little breaks to do chores, read, or blog, but often after 10-20 minutes she runs up saying, “Mommy come, Mommy come.” And she is in a repetitive stage, so she will utter that phrase until I relent; unfortunately this teaches and reinforces the behavior, and she learns that it takes “X repetitions” to get Mommy. Usually I try to stretch her a bit if I’m busy: “I’m cooking sweetie, I’ll be with you in a few minutes.” Sometimes I set a timer and tell her when it dings I’ll come play with her. When I do play, we’ll do it about 10-20 minutes at a time. Then I try to get up and do some more stuff. But here’s the point: I’m a stay-at-home mom for a reason, and that reason is to care for Bean. Part of caring is setting up different activities and participating in some of them. One of her biggest pleasures is reading books; lately it’s all the Richard Scarry books. Sometimes I feel like “disappearing” a few of them for a few days, because I am bored witless with them and almost at the end of my patience.

Another thing that I wonder about is her tantrums. Often when she is mad about not getting her way, she cries “I need a hug!” Or when she wants to be sure to get my attention she begs for a hug and cries. Or she announces, “I’m crying,” or “I’m sad (or mad),” or “I’m so sorry, Mommy!” The questions are: should I withhold a hug until she is calm and done having the tantrum? Or should I hold her if that helps to calm her down? Should I give her a hug when she is using it as a means to get my attention and pull me away from my own task?

Well, I’ve had my ten minutes, and now I’m being tugged and whined at for another thing. For now I’ll comfort myself with this excerpt from a blog and favorite book:

Lila has been driving me to the brink lately with the Being Two: the whining, the screaming, the abandoning of the diapers in random sodden heaps around the house, the eating nothing-but-blueberries-and-mini-marsmallows, the “Meeee dooooo!” the “No Mama sing!”

But last night I read this, on page 83 of Karen Maezen Miller’s excellent book, Momma Zen:

“Yes, it’s said that “two” is terrible, but can you consider the course load for a minute? Self-feeding and table skills, language, emotional management, toilet training, and social etiquitte for starters.

And all occuring amid the frightening undertow towards separation and independence. Throw in weaning, the big bed, and assorted other traumatic transitions such as a new sibling, babysitter or preschool, whenever they enter the picture. These kids are working in a coal mine!

Consider all of this as a way to conjure up more empathy on an ordinary day.”

Ahhh. Suddenly I feel better. Thanks Karen.

This book is an old Moms Are Talking About favorite, categorized under the intriguing label Parenting/Buddhism.

If you ask me, that’s a literary subgenre that really ought to have its own bookstore. Or planet. With free green tea and massages.

This Morning’s Project

Yesterday Bean went with her father to the hardware store, and she saw paint there, and of course she came home obsessed with a desire to paint. It was too late in the day to start since we had company coming, and I promised her today we’d do it. She was thrilled this morning when she saw the setup. Here’s a little movie of her painting, and below that is a photo of the output. She said here she was painting a picture of Maria and Abby (from Sesame Street). I think she was also saying at the end of the movie, “My painting is lovely.” We painted wrapping paper.

Observations

Having a child has heightened my awareness in several ways. The predominant pleasure of this awareness is the experience of discovery. We were in her wading pool on a very hot day, and honey bees flew around us to drink some water. Rather than get nervous and try to bat them away, we watched them. I did not know that bees carry their own little straw with them! I was fascinated to see one busily using its proboscis to suck up drops of water. Have you ever really seen — really watched — a honey bee from about five inches away? They are quite intricate.

Bean’s attention is not limited to the miniscule, though. She loves planes; they are huge and loud and scary and exciting. There is a Target store close to the airport that happens to sit in the path of landing planes. We arrange ourselves in the parking lot on the sidewalk under a little tree and watch them approach, getting lower and louder, until they roar overhead. I’d never noticed before that UPS and FedEx planes are enormous. I love how big they are. I can’t explain exactly why, except that you need to see one hanging right over your head a few hundred feet up to really appreciate their size.

Another form of awareness is a heightened sense of caution. I took Bean to the beach last Thursday. She’d only gone once before when she was 13 months old; it was October, and she wasn’t really interested. So I took her to Half Moon Bay, since that was the first beach that came to mind. Well, it’s not altogether inviting. The beach is very steep, and the water becomes quickly deep, so the wave action is intense. There was a sign:

I felt the tug of dread in my gut, but we went to the waves. I dismissed the feeling, but I kept an eye out; I could see the tide was coming in. Bean was thrilled to jump in the waves (we were at the very edge just getting our toes wet), but by the time we were done her arms looked like they were sunburned from the intensity of my grip. I could only tolerate the tension for about 15 minutes. I mocked myself for being a Nervous Nellie. I thought, It’s not like the sea is personified and is going to snatch my child away. But it felt that way to me. I wanted to call my parents and ask them how they’d had the courage to let us play at all the beaches we camped at when I was a kid. I’m amazed they didn’t lose one of us! After awhile she said she was done with the waves, so we went up the berm and made sand castles, but I still felt nervous, and Bean was getting cranky. So we went to the car to change into dry clothes and have lunch, after which we fed seagulls.

It was time for her nap and she was definitely tired, but since she’d catnapped on the way to the beach I wasn’t sure if she’d sleep. I decided to drive down Highway 1 to Santa Cruz, figuring it would be pretty for me and give her two hours to nap. However, she thwarted the plan. She wouldn’t fall asleep. By the time we got to Santa Cruz she said she wanted to get out and walk, so I stopped at another beach: Natural Bridges. This one was much flatter, with calmer wave action, and was populated by dozens of people. She chased seagulls, jumped in waves (with me holding her still, but with less suction that felt as though it might knock me down), and made more sand castles. A kind lady said hello and took our picture. After about 45 minutes of this, I had to lug her up the hill to the car and drive home. She fell asleep on the way for half an hour. Not enough nap, too much stimulation — she was a cranky tired kid by bedtime. But we had fun. On the way I noted many other state beaches that were flat, so we’ll be going to those next time.

I will say this: since having a child, I’ve made a concerted effort not to indulge my imagination regarding all the horrors that could befall Bean. That way lies madness. I also believe that manufacturing things to worry about distracts us from being aware of real threats and risks, because by worrying we feel we are doing something constructive and are bound up in all those thoughts, becoming too distracted to pay attention to what is real. I’m reading Protecting the Gift by Gavin de Becker (his Gift of Fear is worthwhile too), in which he recommends honoring the intuition signals the body gives us when we sense danger. When I saw another sign at Half Moon Bay (below) after we’d gone up for lunch, I realized that my discomfort was entirely justified, and rather than discount myself, I’m going to heed it; we’ll not be going back to that beach. (I also found an article about a tragedy on June 30 eight miles north of Half Moon Bay. Eeeegad!)

There is much more to tell about Bean, but this post is long enough, and her nap will be ending soon.

Silence

I’m feeling quieter and quieter on the blog these days. It’s probably evident to anyone who regularly reads it. My hands are busy with knitting, my days are full with activity. We went to the zoo on Sunday; each time we go Bean is more entranced. My mother-in-law is visiting in early September, and my eldest sister is coming for a visit in late September. In just seven weeks Bean will turn two! The photo below was taken by a friend when we visited her last Friday. Bean reveled in the garden and sandbox.

More Knitting

I’ve been knitting and felting and knitting and… I had one small ball of yarn (71 yards) that turned out a cute little scarf for Bean, and I am working through remnants of past knitting projects making felted bowls. Bean enjoys using them to hold her play food. Here are some photos of my industriousness.

Another Treasure Found

We take walks less frequently these days, because the novelty has worn off for Bean, but today was a lovely day for a trek around the block. On the way home my eye spotted this perfect tiny bird egg lying on the ground. I gently pocketed it with a hope to get home without crushing it. Here’s a photo. I nestled it in a small clear container (formerly used for glitter) so that Bean can look at the egg without breaking it. What a find!

Delicate Beauty

Bean and I were walking the other day, and I spotted this small nest upside down on a bush. There were no eggs nearby, so I think it was abandoned and had fallen. I scooped it up, marveling at the industry evident in the construction. It’s a small nest, no larger than 3 inches in diameter, and lined with something that looks like dog fur. Since Bean wanted to mangle it, I’ve put it aside in her nature box for a future date when she’s able to be gentle with it. I found this on a highly trafficked road, and it reminds me that for all the urban development surrounding us, birds and other animals find room to live here too.

New Hat

When this was finished, I thought it surely was too big for Bean (I’d tried to make it a bit bigger than her last one so it has room for growth). Well, it does fit (i.e., it’s not too big)! And it still has a little room. I’m pleased with the outcome, and now maybe I’ll make one for myself. (It’s odd… I always seem to make winter hats in the summer.)

Do It Again, Mommy!

A child kicks its legs rhythmically through excess, not absence, of life. Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, Do it again; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough… It is possible that God says every morning, Do it again, to the sun; and every evening, Do it again, to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike: it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.

–G. K. Chesterton

I Love Her

As the family photographer, very few photos get taken of me, especially me and Bean. When my mother-in-law visited around the new year, she took a bunch of photos. (She is an avid photographer and quite good!) I asked her to send some of the images so that I could post them on Flickr, and here are two I thought I’d share with the world. They were taken in January at the SF Zoo. (You can see and purchase more of her work at her website, Kay Harper Photography. All rights on these photos are reserved.)

Budding Jazz Aficionado

I’m so happy to have my little girl healthy again. Husband took the video below this evening. He introduced her to Dave Brubeck, because she really like the jazz songs on her Music Together CDs. If the video doesn’t play, click this link to see the movie.

The Pace of Things

With the forecast today predicting that it will hit between 101 and 107 here, and given that we live in a house with no air conditioning, life will move at a snail’s pace around here today.

Bean’s fever finally broke on Friday (until then it was pretty high, around 103.4). We saw the doctor on Tuesday afternoon; he said it wasn’t hand-foot-mouth disease because he saw no cankers in her mouth or throat. It was simply a garden-variety virus that would run its course and that I should keep her hydrated and as comfortable as possible. She says still that her throat hurts and she sounds hoarse, but she’s back to eating almost regularly and playing.

That meant my birthday and the rest of the week was fairly low-key and solitary, but this is okay. I got to hold and cuddle one of my best gifts ever. I will say, though, that if I were graded as a parent based solely on Thursday, I’d probably get a C or D. It was a rough day for us both, and I handled it with less grace than I could have.

The goal today is to stay cool and well.

No Fun

Poor sweet Bean is ill. We thought it was teething at first, because she said her teeth hurt and her mouth hurt on Saturday. Yesterday I saw very faint red spots on her legs during bath, and a small little pimple-like bump in the corner of her mouth. Today she spiked a fever, doesn’t have much appetite. The advice nurse thinks it may be hand-foot-mouth disease (not to be confused with foot and mouth disease); this illness causes very painful sores in the mouth. When we put her to bed, her temperature was 101.2 after a dose of infant Motrin.

She says, “Mommy don’t put you down. Hold. Mommy make it better.” She spent much of the early evening lying on her tummy against my tummy. She asks for ice cream to eat; it’s cool for the mouth and the insides, and I don’t say no, because it’s full of calories.

The Early Bird

OMG, I haven’t got my child enrolled for preschool this fall! Nearly every other mother I know whose child is about to turn two has taken care of this. I haven’t since I thought we’d be moving and wanted to see where we’d be before I pursued this.

Oh no. My child won’t be ready for kindergarten! (Never mind the fact that I never went to preschool, and I did just fine.)

In One Day

From this (playing in her pool and having pensive moment)…

…to this (silly with stickers).

Voila!

This weekend I made a magic wand for Bean out of a wooden dowel and some pieces of wood my father gave me years ago. I painted it a light shade of purple and used a second coat of translucent silver paint to add shimmer. Then I coated the tip in silver glitter and used a glossy gel to seal it.

I thought about trying to add ribbon streamers to the tip, but I concluded that a simple design was better. The magic, of course, will be imbued by Bean herself. I hope she finds many hours of fun with it.

A Mindful Life / Kathryn Harper

express : discover : renew : create