An Interview

My cousin recently interviewed me for a project she is participating in for her Sociology class, a project focusing on the ever changing definition of "mother" and how society has impacted that role. I thought that I would share my answers here:

1. What are the challenges that you have had to personally face as a caregiver?
My greatest challenge as a caregiver is having faith and confidence in my ability to provide and nurture my loved ones.  I often struggle with feelings of inadequacy and guilt: two emotions that I think most mothers experience at one time or another. As a working mother, I often find myself struggling to balance family life with my career.  As much as I love my job and value my ability to support my family financially, I leave my house with a heavy heart every morning as I kiss my little ones goodbye. Do they know how much I love them?  Am I doing everything I can to prepare them for their futures? Am I taking full advantage of the time I DO have with them? Learning to just breathe, have faith in God's plan for our family, and enjoy the moment for what it is: I work on those concepts daily.

2. When do you think is a good time for someone to have a baby?
For Shawn and I, we just knew.  We were 24 years old and had been married for four years.  We had traveled the world, spent countless hours getting to know each other and strengthening our bond, explored who we were and what we wanted out of life.  One night, in a tiny bar in downtown New Orleans, we looked at each other and said, "It's time".  We were ready to be more, to share our love with someone else, to give of ourselves and put something out into the world that was bigger than our own selfish wants and needs.  To me, that's the best time to have a baby: the time in your life when you are evolved enough to say, "There's so much more to life than just ME".

3. What kind of parent are you?  Laid back? Paranoid?
I fall somewhere in the middle with my parenting style.  I worry but not too much, I relax but I also like structure and routine.  I don't believe in hovering over my children and curating their every move. I also don't just sit back and let them have free reign.  Much of my parenting style follows the attachment parenting school of thought: extended breast feeding, baby wearing, cosleeping.  But I also don't believe in letting kids take complete control: there has to be consistency and routine in our house. Rules and discipline are necessary.  We try to keep things simple and emphasize the importance of respect, love, and consideration for others in all things.

4.  What is something that your child does to make you angry?
Deliberately breaking the rules, lying, cheating, and/or being disrespectful to others are all behaviors that are not tolerated in our home.  These behaviors upset me and my children know that.  There are clear lines drawn in our family regarding these behaviors and our children know that these things will lead to consequences.

5. How has having a child affected your life?
Becoming a mother has made me a better person in every way.  I have grown so much since I had Isabelle 9 years ago: I am stronger, more determined, and more patient. I am more forgiving of myself and others.  I am more fearless and willing to try new things.  I now live with the outlook that everything I do affects another person.  My children are looking to me as an example of what a woman should be, they are shaping their own ideals, morals, and values around the things that I teach them. This concept carries a very heavy sense of personal responsibility and I don't take it lightly.

6. Do you every miss the way life used to be before kids? How so?
There are two things I miss about life before kids: being able to sit and enjoy an entire meal with both hands while it's still hot and being able to talk to my husband without getting interrupted.  The only time those luxuries happen anymore are on the rare occasion we have a date night.

7. How do you desire your kids to think of you?
I pray that my kids think of me as a loving, compassionate, kind hearted person who gave of myself to others more than I thought of myself.  I pray that they see God's love in me.  I pray that I inspire them to believe, love, and respect themselves, to have confidence and self respect.  To be the kind of people that other people can depend on.

8. Did you think everything through before you had a child (financially, physically, etc.)?
Honestly, no.  I have so many friends who waited until they finished college, bought their first homes, paid off their student loans, etc. before having children.  We didn't do that, we just went for it.  Of course, our timing made things more difficult for us at times as we often had to worry about money, bills, etc. But our love for each other and for our family has always been so much stronger than our bank account.  We made things work, even when the numbers were stacked against us. And I think that made us who were are today.

9. Do you think that having children strengthens or weakens a marriage?
I think it depends on the marriage.  When we had our first child, we were still quite young and immature.  We had a lot to learn about the true sacrifices that are required of a successful marriage. We fought about silly and insignificant things: who changed the most diapers, who got more sleep. My husband sometimes felt alone and abandoned since I was now sharing my attention with the baby.  It was a big adjustment. As the years have gone by, however, things have gotten better.  We've learned to enjoy the role as Mom and Dad as much as we enjoy Husband and Wife.  We've learned to treasure those moments with a bed full of kids rather than lament the way things used to be.  We've become each other's greatest cheerleaders, supporting each other in any way that we can so as to make the other person's day a little bit easier.  After 13 years of marriage and 3 kids, I can honestly say that our marriage is stronger than ever.

10. What is an activity that you have had to give up since becoming a parent?
After the birth of my second child, I stopped going to dance class.  I have been a dancer since I was three years old and going to class each week and performing on the big stage has always been one of my greatest joys.  I took a step back after Brees was born, however, because I felt like I needed to focus that extra time at home.  I hope to get back to the ballet barre eventually, when my little ones are older and not in such great need of my undivided attention.

11. What pressures do you think society places on parents?
I feel like today's mothers are expected to do it all: work away from home, earn a decent living, and then come home and be Martha Stewart.  Not only do I have to work a full day earning a paycheck, I then have to come home and cook a nutritious, organic meal, carpool to piano lessons and ballet class, help with homework, keep a clean and organized home, bake and craft and love my family to pieces.  It can be exhausting: trying to do it all.

12. How much alone time do you have in one day?
Honestly, not much.  My kids follow me everywhere: they talk to me when I'm in the shower, using the restroom, trying to talk on the phone, etc. There's always at least one kid in our bed, one in my lap, one needing my attention. The only alone time I have is in my car on my way to work.

13. What is the funniest thing that has happened so far?

Oh, there are so many funny moments!  Shawn and I often laugh at the overall chaos that is sometimes our life: the girls sneaking out of their beds and into each other's rooms at night, the baby smiling and cooing at us, wide awake at 3 am, all 3 of them crying and throwing temper tantrums at the same time, finding evidence of their mischief all over the house.  We often find ourselves shaking our heads and laughing at the craziness, thinking, "Is this our life?!!!".  Yes, yes it is.  And boy are we lucky!! 

 

We're All Crazy

Why are my kids perfectly quiet and satisfied and entertained until the moment I pick up the
phone to have a quick conversation?  Why does the sound of my voice on the telephone suddenly
 send them into a tailspin of screaming and crying?  What is it about mommy on the phone
that causes them to suddenly lose their marbles and demand 100% of my attention?

Why can't kids vomit in a contained space?  Why must they projectile vomit and cover every
square inch of the room they are in?  Why must their vomit cover every piece of fabric
and/or upholstery in a 10 foot radius?  Even when you were a prepared mommy and had a
bucket right in front of them?

Why do kids wait until you're a mile from home to finally fall asleep?  And then refuse to go back
to sleep after you carry them into the house despite the fact that they are exhausted?  Why do
kids fight sleep at all?

What's the deal with food not being allowed to touch other food on a plate?  Why do they love
certain foods one week and then despise them the next?  Why do they refuse to eat but then climb
up into your lap and eat the food off your plate?

Why do kids only poop their pants and mess up their clothes on the one day a year you forget to
pack an extra outfit?  And you're out of napkins?  And there's no clean gas station for miles?

Are kids born with an internal radar that gives them the ability to detect the exact moment
that Mommy and Daddy are trying to get it on?  How do they always seem to know when we
are about to love up on each other?  And then just about break the door down trying to infiltrate
the crime scene AKA our own personal bedroom that they also think is their own?

Why do kids wait until 9:00 pm to inform you that they need $50 cash and 14 different papers
signed for school the very next day?  Oh, and a fresh baked pie, too?  And a hand made craft and
4 hours of volunteer time?

The answer: because parenting these little darlins' is the biggest adventure of all.  Because it's full
of twists and turns and surprises and all you're left to do at the end of the day is to laugh at the
pure ridiculousness of it all.  These kids are absolutely nuts and we are even more nuts while trying
to show them the way.  Most days, Shawn and I look at each other and ask, "Is this for real?".  Yes,
yes it is.  It's for real and it's hilarious and I wouldn't change it for the world.  I love you, crazy girls.
I love you so much.

 

They Are Loved

Raising children can be a difficult and tiring process.  These precious little beings
require constant time, attention, and energy, something I give them willingly and with
great joy.  But there are days when I feel like I'm not doing enough, like I've missed
something in all the hustle and bustle we call life.  I go to bed at night and wonder: Did I
hug them enough? Did I make them feel special?  Do they know how much I love them?

Especially during times such as these, times when our family is struggling with health
issues and stress and worry.  I am not able to give my girls 100% of my energy right
now because their Daddy needs a little extra attention.  The scales are a bit tipped off
balance and it's not in their favor.  And I struggle with that.  I wanted to give them the
perfect summer, I wanted to spend long afternoons doing whatever we felt like doing with
no deadlines or agendas.  I wanted to give them my all before the baby got here.  But then
real life had to get in the way and ruin my picture perfect mommy ideas.

I had these thoughts going through my head yesterday afternoon after I dropped Shawn off
at physical therapy and headed home to spend an hour with the girls in the back yard.  I
drank a cup of tea and watched them run and dance, riding their bikes and playing in their
little garden.  Isabelle and I talked and laughed while Brees entertained us with
her adventurous antics.  And I saw them for who they truly are: selfless, loving,
beautiful daughters who are happy and well adjusted.  They aren't missing anything
because they have two parents who adore them to the best of their ability.  The happiness
that shines from their hearts is palpable at times, instantly cheering me up from my
looming funk.  When things get tough and a family member is down, they have learned the
fine art of stepping up to the plate and being there.  They have learned through the example
we have set.  They aren't crying over what they don't have, they instead rejoice over
the moment in which they are living.

Sometimes, if you can slow your mind down just a little bit and take in the simplicity of
your children, you can learn invaluable life lessons from their innocence.  Sometimes, you
can learn to love and accept yourself simply because THEY accept YOU. 

 

To Us All

To my girls, Mother's Day is a special day to let Mama sleep in a whole extra 10 minutes.  
It's all about making cards from construction paper and pipe cleaners, covering the 
kitchen table in glitter and glue.  It's helping Daddy with breakfast and bringing Mama a cup 
of her favorite tea: vanilla chai.  It's helping with the dishes and giving as many hugs and 
kisses as possible.  It's a hydrangea plant for the backyard and ice cream before bed.  To 
my girls, Mother's Day is for making Mama feel special in simple but meaningful ways, 
just how she likes it.

To my mother, Mother's Day is a difficult reminder that her mother is no longer with us.  
Since my grandmother passed away four years ago, my mother has struggled on Mother's 
Day, feeling the sadness and grief of losing her mother all over again.  She is thankful for 
her own children and grandchildren and enjoys the many ways in which we love her yet 
she still can't shake the emptiness she feels since losing her mama.  And so we all gather 
around her and give her as much energy and love that we can, knowing that, someday, it 
will get easier for her.  

To Shawn's mom, Mother's Day is a phone call from her one and only child.  It is a card in 

the mail, flowers on her doorstep, well wishes from several states away.  This year, though, 

it will be an extra special time as Shawn arrives in Arizona just one day after Mother's Day.  

He will spend a whole week with his mama and their extended family, catching up 

and reconnecting after a long year away.  This year, she will get to hug her son and soak in 

his love.

To me, Mother's Day is a reminder of how precious the role of "mother" truly is.  It is a 
special blessing and a pink carnation during Sunday Mass.  It is a big breakfast and 
my brother's BBQ.  Mother's Day is a day off from doing dishes, sunbathing in the 
backyard with a good book while the girls take their naps.  It is a time for my husband to 
thank me for blessing him with our children, a time for my parents to tell me how proud 
they are of me.  It is a chance to stand back and take it all in and to reflect on how, through 
all of the exhausting and emotional hard work that is the journey of motherhood, I am so 
truly blessed to be called "Mama" by these two, soon to be three, babies.

Setting The Example

There are days when I feel like nothing I am doing is enough: I can never fulfill my
own impossible expectations for myself.  Am I spending enough time with my girls,
stimulating them, inspiring them, showing them enough love?  As the days stretch ahead
of us, the week seems like one long balancing act.  Am I caring for my husband with
patience and love, lifting his spirits and reassuring him that the load he can no longer
carry is safe and sound on my shoulders?  Some days, I feel like all we do is talk about
bills and chores and logistics.  Am I taking care of my home and maintaining the scared
space that nurtures all of our souls, serving as the foundation for which we all feel
grounded?  Lately, when I look around, all I see are little corners begging for my attention
to clean and organize.  And so it goes: my own personal internal battle waging on with
fierce intensity, shaking me to my core as I wonder whether or not I can give enough love
and attention to those who so surely deserve it.

Let's face it: as women, we very rarely hear the words, "thank you".  We are not
often recognized for the efforts we so willingly put forth, the daily workings of our world
lost in the precious harmony of family life.  But, just as I think that no one is watching,
that I am not enough, that I am always slipping behind in my multiple roles, someone
surprises me.

On Saturday, stuck indoors during a thunderstorm, our family gathered in the kitchen for
a pizza dinner.  As I zipped around the kitchen, filling drinks, grabbing napkins,
and replenishing plates, Shawn called us all together to say grace.  We bowed our heads
and listened as Daddy led us all in prayer as he does before every meal.  My attention
shifted as I heard him laugh and I looked up just in time to see Brees saying her very
own prayer: hands clasped together, head bowed, and a smile beaming across her face
as big and bright as the sun.  As Shawn said his final words, laughter still on his lips, Brees
let out a loud "Thank you!!!" and finished up our prayer.  

Our little baby girl, so innocent and full of love and light, had learned something
new, something we never intentionally taught her.  She learned simply by watching us in
our day to day lives, she learned by observing the example we have set for her.  For all
the times I feel like I have failed, moments such as these remind me that we just might be
doing something right after all.  There will always be instances of failure, places in our
lives where we will be lacking, but those are just speed bumps along the way.  The real
moments to hold onto are the moments when my family inadvertently tells me thank you,
when they show me through their own actions that all of my hard work is
actually accomplishing something.  Those moments keep me going, pull me from my
slump, and make me sing Amen.  Those moments remind me that working hard and
putting good energy out into the universe does not go unnoticed.   

While we try to teach our children all about life,

Our children teach us what life is all about.

~Angela Schwindt

On Being Enough

After the shock, awe, and outrage expressed last week over Time magazine's most 

recent cover, a photo of a mother breastfeeding her three year old son, I've found 

myself pondering the media's ability to sensationalize even the most basic of situations.  

In theory, the cover sounds perfectly innocent to me: a mother nursing her son, 

proudly nurturing him in the way she best sees fit.  But then I saw the photo, read the 

title of the article, "Are You Mom Enough?", and quickly became disappointed in the 

nature in which the message behind this article was presented.

The article, "Are You Mom Enough", is actually about Dr. Sears and the ins and outs 

of Attachment Parenting, a philosophy my husband and I hold very near and dear to 

our hearts.  Except most people wouldn't know that because they are too busy 

being shocked by the photo on the cover of the magazine and outraged over the arrogance

 in the title.  Let me start by saying that photographs of women breastfeeding their 

children do NOT offend me, I have many photos of myself nursing my own children 

and treasure them, considering them to be the most beautiful moments captured on 

film.  This particular photo, in my personal opinion, was staged to create a massive

 reaction.  This photo does not truly depict breastfeeding: it depicts a magazine 

attempting to sell a record number of copies.  Do I believe that this mother stands with

 her hands on her hips, staring defiantly at those around her, while her son stands on 

a kitchen chair to nurse on a daily basis?  No, I do not.  I believe that this woman and her

 son share a very loving and nurturing relationship, enjoying the amazing bond that 

exists with breastfeeding.  I believe that this mother considers herself truly blessed to 

be able to nurse her son for as long as she has, choosing the path of attachment 

parenting because she believes it is the best way to raise him.  But, because of the nature 

of this photo, the general population will most likely miss out on that.

Breastfeeding is intimate, beautiful, and empowering.  It has been, for me, one of the 

most amazing experiences of my motherhood journey.  But for as right and well as it 

has been for my journey, it doesn't make me any more "enough" than the next mother.  

The title of this article, "Are You Mom Enough?", did nothing for women across 

America except reignite the already played out "Mommy Wars".  It played into 

insecurities, brought up perceived failures, and pitted women against each other.  Am I 

the one who feels completely exhausted by this ever present dialogue whereby

 our parenting decisions are dissected and analyzed?

When you place a provocative photo on the cover of your magazine and use a title 

that makes people feel defensive, the true meaning behind the story is lost.  Yes, it got 

us talking, the news has spread like wildfire, but has it all been for the right reasons?  Did 

the words of Dr. Sears get across to mainstream America?  Did anyone really get to

 know the incredible woman depicted in the photo?  Judging from the responses posted 

on various blogs, forums, and Facebook pages: No.  And there lies the problem with

 the media machine in our country: personal stories and valuable information getting lost

 in the desire to push stories further in order to make more money.

My bottom line: how you raise your children is your own personal business.  If you put 

your children first, give them all of the love they need to thrive, and take care of them in

 the best way you see fit: you are most certainly "mom enough".  Attachment parenting is 

an amazing philosophy that has brought peace and love to the lives of everyone in our 

little family.  I breastfeed, our children sleep with us, and I wear my baby every chance 

I get.  I truly believe that because of all this closeness, because I am able to know, listen 

to, and follow my daughters' cues, they are happy and healthy children.  However, I 

also know that these methods are not for everyone.  Because I spend 6-7 hours a day 

away from my children because I work outside the home, being close to them is important

 to me.  I miss them and they miss me and being close and connected when we are all 

home together is vital to all of us.  You see, we all have different circumstances and 

these circumstances lead  us to the decisions we eventually make.  

One of my favorite quotes:

“You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the 

only way, it does not exist.” Friedrich Nietzsche

I've heard and read some pretty strong reactions to the Time magazine cover, some calling

 it "gross", "obscene", and "disgusting".  My opinion: it was a good concept gone wrong.  

Had they photographed this woman breastfeeding her son in a more natural state, most 

of those words would probably have never been used.  Had they used a different title, 

there probably wouldn't be a whole new slew of debates online about breast vs. 

formula, working moms vs. SAHM, cloth vs. disposable.  Then again, maybe there would 

be.  Because this seems to be a neverending story, a perfect example of how women 

never feel good enough, how the guilt that is the most basic ingredient of motherhood is 

ever present.  I suppose we will always find the need to defend ourselves and our 

choices, proving to others and ourselves that we are in fact doing our best.  

As well we should.

Happy Mother's Day

I've always wanted to be a mama, ever since I was a little girl.  I have dreamed of a family 
to call my own, little hands to hold and little feet to walk alongside.  On this day, this 
special day that comes to us once a year, I have been singing and rejoicing in the reality 
that my dreams have come true.  I am a blessed woman because Isabelle Grace and 
Brees Elizabeth call me "mama".  God chose me to lead them and guide them and love 
them, all the days of our lives.  And from the moment they were placed in my arms, I 
was forever changed.  Thank you, my two little girls, for making my life so rich and full
 in love.  Thank you for teaching me how to see the beauty in everyday moments, thank
 you for showing me how to slow down and relax, thank you for helping me to love 
myself simply because you love me.  And to my own special mama, thank you for being 
the best mother I could have ever asked for.  You inspire me daily to be the woman I 
was always meant to be because you love them, unconditionally.  
Thank you.

 

  

Mama Says

On Sunday afternoons, with my husband in a football induced haze and the girls tucked
away for their afternoon naps, my mama and I meet up for a quick chat and cup of tea for
me, coffee for her.  We catch up on all the most recent family news, make plans for
upcoming events, and talk about matters most close to our hearts.  We often talk
about motherhood, a role we now share, a bond that has brought us even closer together.
She tells me stories of her experiences as a mother, the joys she felt and the
hardships learned.  And I listen intently, for there is so much to be learned from this
woman.  I am able to reflect on my own journey by better understanding the path
my mother chose.

My mother gave birth to her two children with no pain medication involved.  She used
cloth diapers and held us at every waking minute.  When I ask her about her
parenting "philosophy", she smiles and tells me "common sense".  She never read any
books, didn't attend classes or seminars.  My mother didn't worry about whether or not
she was "engaging" her children enough, she didn't obsess over organic onesies,
vaccination schedules, or having the most aerodynamic stroller.  She just loved
us, unconditionally, and always put our needs above her own.  She didn't fill our schedules
up with mommy and me classes, we had our own mommy and me time in the living
room every night after supper.  There was no internet to fill her head with doom and
gloom every time someone found a new food that could cause us harm or a new trend
she should be following.  She simply followed the advice of her own mother, her sisters,
her friends.  They supported one another and mothered together.

When I tell my mama about the "mommy wars" that take place all over the internet,
the constant I'm right and you're wrong: cloth vs. disposable, formula vs. breast, epidural
vs. natural, SAHM vs. working, attachment vs. independent, to vaccinate or not, she 
doesn't really get it.  "Why would a bunch of women who don't even know each other
or understand each other's circumstances try to judge one another about their
parenting decisions?".  I have been wondering about that quite a bit myself.

 Because, truthfully, we're all trying to achieve the same goal: to raise healthy,
happy children.  We all go about things differently, we all have our own personal reasons
for why we choose to do things a certain way, but there is no right or wrong.  As mothers,
we should believe in ourselves and our methods for raising up our babies, we should strive
to be everything we have in mind for what's right.  But, in today's society, is it possible
that we have become overachievers?  Are we setting the bar at an impossibly high
standard, making it so that no matter what decision a woman makes, there's always
another mother waiting to leave her a negative comment about how wrong she is?

The best advice my mama ever gave me was to enjoy my kids, have fun with them and
see the beauty in the simple, everyday moments.  They will only be little for such a
short amount of time, don't waste those precious moments trying to achieve some
impossible sort of perfect.  And she's right, all my girls want is ME.  They don't care
about whether or not their toys are made from hand crafted sustainable wood, they have
no idea whether or not the wall hangings in their rooms are vintage or what the thread
count is for their crib bedding.  What they do know is that their mama tries really, really
hard to love them, give them positive support and encouragement, and show them the
simple joys in life.  Their mama strives to surround herself with women who offer
their support and encouragement,  no matter the differences in their parenting styles.
And one day, hopefully, they will do the same thing with their babies.

So, here's to all the mamas out there, no matter what you believe or practice.  Today I say
to you: Job well done!  God gave you your babies, YOU specifically, because He knew that
you were the best person for the job.  That is the most amazing and comforting
thought I could ever imagine.

Generations

Brees has been sick for a week, enduring her first ear infection and round of antibiotics.
She sniffled and sneezed and slept for hours and hours, her little body working hard to
fight off the bacteria.  Just as she was starting to feel better and I thought we were in
the clear, she came down with a stomach flu and vomited for 6 straight hours.  We
spent Friday night in the pediatric emergency room, replenishing her electrolytes and
waiting out the viral storm.  This sweet, calm little baby barely cried.  She rested her
warm head on my chest, her big eyes looking around at the unfamiliar faces, the bright
lights of the hospital room.  My heart ached for her.

As we drove home at 5 in the morning, I called my boss to let her know that I would not
be able to be on call Saturday as scheduled, my baby girl was sick.  I would not be able to
see patients that day, I could not fulfill my obligation to work because I needed to be
home serving as a nurse to my daughter.  My boss breathed in a heavy sigh, knowing
the difficulty she would have finding someone to take my place on a Saturday.  We
both wished each other luck.

As I hung up the phone, my heart felt heavy.  I knew that my boss was upset, I knew
that patients would have to wait, I knew that some of my coworkers would be resentful
that they would now be expected to pick up the slack.  But as I glanced at the backseat
and saw Brees sleeping, her body weak and tired, I felt angry with myself for even
caring about what any of those people thought.  My family is my priority, they are the
reason I wake up every morning, the inspiration that lights up my soul.  What does a
career even mean if I have to leave my daughter when she is ill?

I have often feel this tug of war between my career and my role as wife and mother.  I
don't want to have to choose between either, I want them to coexist perfectly, to be in
a constant state of balance.  But that is rarely the case, as I am often reminded by nights
such as these.  This is the reality of women today: we want to have it all, but we are
expected to BE all in exchange.  I couldn't help but think of my grandmother and how
much things have changed since she was raising children, my mother and all that
she experienced, so difficult yet quite different from my reality.

My grandparents were married for over 50 years, birthed 6 children, had over
60 grandchildren.  My grandmother never worked outside the home, but she did wake up
at 4 am every day to feed the chickens, milk the cows, and churn fresh butter.  She made
it back to the house in time to cook 3 full meals a day, care for her multitude of children,
iron, sew, and wash countless loads of laundry.  Her own mother lived with her as well,
my sweet little "meme", chiming in with her words of wisdom though she barely spoke
a word of English.  My grandmother referred to domestic duties as "women's work"
and I doubt my grandfather even knew what a broom was.  I wander if she ever
felt unappreciated, isolated, overwhelmed?  I wander if she ever dreamed of something
else, a dream to call her own?  I envy her knowledge of living off the land, her ability to
take care of everyone around her without ever losing her patience.  Women in her day
may not have had the opportunities we do now, but she could make a meal out
of 3 ingredients, she could grow a garden and birth a calf, she could command a
roomful of children with one stern look.
Her journey was one of perseverance, discipline, and hard work.

My mother was a part of a revolutionary generation: she burned her bra and waved
her finger at the idea of being less than a man.  Even while raising two children and
working full-time, she put herself through night school to make a better life for herself
and her family.  She sacrificed every ounce of her free time to work and earn her own
way, struggling to put food on the table but too prideful to ever ask for help.  This meant
that my brother and I were often on our own, fending for ourselves until she made it
home from work, her eyes dark and her shoulders tired.  She did everything she could to
be there for us, showing up right at half time to watch me perform my high kicks, always
in her uniform for every school event and parent teacher conference.  I wander if she ever
felt exhausted, lonely, inadequate?  I wander if she ever wished for an easier way, a
world where women didn't have to work so hard just to prove themselves?  I envy
her strength, her unbreakable spirit.  Women in her day were expected to work for a
living but were not quite respected as equals.  But she never let on that she was
struggling, never complained or worried.  She taught me about work ethic and self-love.
She taught me to be self-reliant not only in my domestic abilities, but in my financial
means as well.
Her journey was one of independence, inner strength, and faith.

I think of these two women, the generations before me and what they have taught me.

My definition of a woman, the person I strive to be, is a combination of my mother and

my grandmother.  I value the domestic goddess that my grandmother was: I long to be

there for my children and spend as much time at home caring for them as I possibly can.

I want to take pride in my role at home, to provide a loving and warm environment in

which my family can flourish.  But I also value the independence and work ethic my

mother taught me: I am passionate about my career and thankful I had the opportunity

to obtain a prestigious degree.  I want to work hard at something I love and

contribute positively to society.  Can I be both of these women, can I fulfill both of

these roles?  Sometimes, like this past weekend, the answer is no.  Sometimes I have to

make phone calls and let employers down, sometimes I have to say no to an

opportunity because it will let my family down.  I can not be all things to all people, I can

only work hard to be the best at what means the most to me.

My journey is one of balance, self-exploration, and opportunity.

I know who I am and I am fearless when it comes to going after what I want.  But I

am learning, day by day, that sometimes what you want is right in front of you.

Sometimes, I have to remind myself that, instead of always striving to have it all, I need

to appreciate all that I have already.

Discipline

Of all the every day struggles we face in parenthood, discipline remains the most
daunting to me.  It is a necessary evil, a part of the mama and daddy package right
along with snuggling and enjoying precious milestones.  Children are born with a
natural instinct to test their boundaries, explore their options, and get into trouble as
a result.  And, even though it is our responsibility to show them the way and teach them
right from wrong, it doesn't make it any easier when they pout their lips and cry.

Because our girls are 6 years apart, they are at very different places discipline wise.
Isabelle is a typical 7 year old: she has just discovered the power of eye rolling, feels the
need to negotiate every request we make of her, and frequently gets in trouble at school
for talking to her friends during class.  In many ways, disciplining Isabelle is much easier
than correcting Brees because she can understand exactly what you are saying,
contemplate your message, and then put it into action.  This is also what makes parenting
her harder: she sometimes blatantly disobeys, knowing exactly what she is supposed to
do but then going her own way regardless.  She is very strong willed and
determined: wonderful character traits when used productively but not in the case
of disobeying your parents and family rules.

Brees, at 10 months, is quite the busy bee.  She is discovering the world and learning
new things each and every day, typically in the form of destroying every room of our
house.  She is an explorer, digging in every nook and cranny she is able to occupy.  She is,
in most every way, a very easy baby: rarely cries and has an overall sweet and
pleasant demeanor.  But, in the last month, she has begun protesting when we take
things away from her, sometimes to the point of screaming and throwing herself to
the ground.  She is learning the fine art of temper tantrums and the impending stage
of toddlerhood is right around the corner, bringing with it many tear filled episodes.  This
is a crucial age for her: the time to teach her that temper tantrums lead to negative
attention rather than getting you what you want (a lesson some adults never learn).

So what to do?  How do you control the chaos?  How do you teach your children to
behave themselves and be respectful yet still foster their vivacious spirits and embrace
their energy?  We struggle daily with the answers to these questions, trying to form
a strategy that works best for our family and gives our girls the skills they will need to
be happy, disciplined, well rounded adults.  Patience, consistency, and being on the same
page with your spouse is key.  Be slow to anger and discipline out of love.  My mother
once gave me the best advice: "Discipline is a form of love as important as showing
affection and paying compliments.  You discipline your children BECAUSE you love
them, because you care enough about them to want the best for them.  Guilt should not
be a part of the equation, you are simply preparing them for life and showing them that
limits are a part of reality".
What a smart lady, my mama.

For now, our discipline routine for Isabelle revolves around positive reinforcements and
time outs.  We follow Super Nanny's routine for time out and, as cheesy as those types
of television shows can be, it really works.  Jo Frost says to get down to your child's
height level and speak to them rather than hovering over them and be intimidating.
She instructs parents to be firm yet full of love, to be consistent and give positive praise
and encouragement.  We use reward charts with Isabelle and she is able to win prizes
each week for good behavior.  With Brees, we simply redirect her to another activity
when she starts crying in protest.  If we take something away that she is not supposed
to have and she begins throwing a tantrum, we move her to another area, give her
something that she IS allowed to have, sing her a song and try to take her mind off of
the heightened situation.  None of this is easy by any means, especially when we've
just arrived home from a full day's work and all we want to do is enjoy our children and
spend time with them.  It's so much easier to just give in and not go through all the motions
of setting things straight, but that's not fair to our kids.
Nor to our sanity.

This is part of parenthood, no matter how difficult and taxing it can be.  Shawn and
I constantly remind each other that by disciplining our kids now, we are preparing them
to be loving, responsible adults later.  It makes me cry sometimes when I have to put
Isabelle in the corner or cut out an activity that she really enjoys, but I have to
remember that I'm doing these things because I love her, I love Brees, and no one ever
said that this whole mama thing was all pink ponies and cotton candy.  It's hard work,
no matter how you look at it.
But I wouldn't trade it for the world. 

Date Day

This weekend, Shawn and I enjoyed some one on one time with our girls.  It's something
we don't do enough: taking the time to focus all of our attention on one child.  This is part
of a list of things Shawn and I want to change: developing a better balance between
being together as a tribe and also enjoying quality time as individuals.  And so we are
starting now, shooting for once a month one on one dates with our girls.  

For our first date day, Shawn and Isabelle made plans to spend the day at the location of
her choice.  Her dream date with her Daddy: Chuck E. Cheese!!!!  And my sweet,
patient husband happily obliged, walking hand in hand with his little girl into the most
over stimulating environment around.  Belle requested that Brees and I stay for pizza and
a few rides before we left for our own date.  She held her baby sister and they both
giggled wildly, bumping along on the Clifford car, Brees looking around at the millions of
lights and sounds around every corner.  

After winning a few prizes and enjoying a kid friendly lunch, it was time to leave Shawn
and Belle and let them get to the real fun: arcade games, Foosball, and gigantic dancing
mice.  She was in heaven!  

Brees and I headed out for our special date: a shopping trip to purchase her very first pair
of shoes!  We had quite a time trying to find a pair that were appropriate for early
walkers but also came in her size: her feet are so teeny tiny and at nine months old, she
is only a size 1!  But after trying on several dozen pairs, we finally found the perfect
shoes.  Pink, of course.  Brees had more fun trying to eat the shoes on display and
knocking over boxes than shopping, as expected.  It was a special trip, though, and
reminded me of the day I took Isabelle to buy her first pair of shoes.  Another
special memory to add to our family's record book...

We met up at the end of the day, two very sleepy little girls and smiles all around.  We
got home just in time for the LSU game and spent the rest of the evening in our pajamas
with big bowls of popcorn.  It was a very successful date day and we all agreed that this
is a new tradition that definitely deserves a once a month spot on our family calendar!

Guilt

Something really terrible and scary happened a few nights ago...

I went to bed at 10pm and, as usual, Brees smelled me coming.  As soon as I entered
the room and climbed into our bed, her little eyes popped open and she peeked at me
through her crib, reaching for her Mama.  I pulled her into the bed with us and we lay side
by side, Brees quietly nursing herself to sleep, my own dreams swirling around my head
as I drifted off and rest took over.
Our nightly routine.

And then I heard a YELP, like the sound a puppy makes when you step on their tail,
a THUMP and a YELP and I jumped out of bed and screamed at the top of my lungs
as I realized that my baby HAD FALLEN OFF THE BED AND ONTO THE FLOOR!!!!!!!!

It all happened so fast, I was pulled out of my sleep in a panic, my heart pounding inside
my head, complete disbelief at the sound I heard her make: a YELP.  And she was on the
floor beside our bed and I scooped her up and held her so tight and she was breathing and
I was breathing and we were both breathing a little too fast: FEAR.  Shawn had to work
the night shift that night, because everything always has to happen when my husband is
at work.  But Isabelle was in the bed with me and she lifted her heavy eyelids to see what
all the commotion was, gazed at me holding Brees close in the dimly lit room, swaying
back and forth, humming softly in her ear, willing both of us to calm our beating hearts.
She gazed at us and said, "Awww, look at y'all!  You are such a good Mama, so sweet."
And then she drifted back to sleep.

I am not a good mother!!  My baby just fell on the floor!  How did this happen?  I took her
into the bathroom and looked her over, examining every inch of her body with my trained
nurse eyes, searching for any sign of trauma, any possibility of an injury.  She just smiled
at me, stroked my cheek, giggled as I turned her over and over.  She was fine, not a
scratch on her.  She was fine.

She rested her head on my shoulder, closed her eyes, trying to go back to sleep.  But I
was scared and worried that she might have a concussion.  I called Shawn at work and
told him what had happened, warned him that his baby girl might not be home when he
got off work because Child Protective Services was probably on their way to confiscate
her right now.  How did this happen?  We've been co-sleeping for months, I'm always
so careful, she's just a little baby, I'm a nurse, I should know better, how could I not have
kept her safe?

He calmed me as only Shawn can, reassuring me that these things happen, it was an
accident, babies are resilient, just think of all the times she falls throughout the day trying
to walk and crawl and climb, she's tough, just watch her close, you know what to do, you
are a nurse, trust in yourself.
I love you.

So back to bed we went, Brees already fast asleep.  I created a fortress in the bed
with pillows, protection on both sides, and held her close to me.  I didn't sleep for the rest
of the night: I timed her respirations, counted her heart rate, monitoring her for any signs
of distress.  I'm a nurse, but she's my baby.  All ability to keep calm in the face of crisis
goes out the window when it's your own child.

Dawn arrived before I knew it and Brees was fine.  We woke up the next morning and
started our day like every other, but I was shaken to my core.  I replayed the night's
events in my head a million times, the sound of her YELP screaming through my ears,
making my heart ache.  The guilt, the what ifs, the worst scenarios possible haunting
me.  Yes, it was an accident, but I am her mother and I should have
protected her better.
The guilt.

Motherhood is ridden with guilt, isn't it?  These things happen and people try to comfort
us but there is no comfort to be had when the guilt overwhelms you.  I told Shawn,
"If something would have happened, something terrible, I don't think I..."

He stopped me, put his hand over my heart, and we prayed.  We gave thanks,
acknowledged our blessings, because NOTHING bad happened, we were protected that
night, an angel put her hand down and caught our sweet baby girl, resting her gently on
the floor, keeping her from harm.  And all the worry and guilt in the world is just keeping
me from counting my blessings, preventing me from thanking God for saving us from
a terrible situation.

And so we are okay, another story to add to Brees's baby book, a night I am sure will be
the butt of many jokes as she gets older: the night she fell out of bed.  She will tease me
about it when she grows up, laugh about how this night is the source of all her problems.
The guilt will subside and I will eventually be able to laugh at myself and we will move on.

I keep thinking about Isabelle, her words that night, "You are such a good Mama."  

God speaking to me through my little girl, reassuring me.  This is not the first accident, 

nor will it be the last.  This is part of raising children.  I need to recognize that and be 

grateful.  This time, we were blessed.  

Guilt has no room here.