Being Sara

I stumbled across an interesting blog post a few days ago, and it’s been on my mind ever since. So, first, please check out the post here, and then you’ll be able to follow along with my thoughts (don’t worry - it’ll open in a new window).

So, to sum up what Jesse was saying, essentially, we are being too soft on our kids, and teaching them to blame others for their problems. Some of the points that Jesse makes are good ones. I always felt that the movement to use purple pens for correction instead of red was insane. I don’t think it helps kids to make them feel less stressed about red pen markings. Same goes for everyone getting a trophy in little league, or no one having to sit down during a spelling bee.

However, I think that it’s easy to go too far with this as well. I think there must be a happy medium. Jesse talks about raising their 4 month old daughter. He makes reference to her almost being able to roll over, and someday trying to walk. These are things that I can easily relate to. I thought back to our experiences with Xander rolling over. It took him a long time to get this figured out. We could have left him screaming on his stomach for longer I’m sure. On the other hand, when he was flipping out, he wasn’t being productive. It wasn’t like he was trying to move himself, he was just crying, red-faced and miserable, so we didn’t leave him like that for lengthy periods of time. The same when Xander learned to walk. We held his hand when he asked, and let him attempt on his own when he didn’t.

Now, Xander is very clear with us when he wants to do things on his own. Two examples that come to mind immediately are the stairs, and food. Xander rarely wants help going up or down the stairs these days. We still play spotter when he’s walking down, but we let him go on his own for the most part. Xander also will refuse to eat if he can’t hold his own utensil. He doesn’t want to be spoon fed, and he doesn’t want help getting his food from the plate to his mouth. Regardless of how much he spills, he wants to do it on his own, and we let him as much as possible.

According to Jesse’s theory, Zach and I are raising a member of the “Y-Me?” generation. We help him when he asks for it, and sometimes when he doesn’t. On the other hand, we have an extremely self confident child. He adapts easily to change, isn’t afraid to try things on his own, and is confident that if he goes running around on the playground, Mom or Dad will be around somewhere to catch him if he slips.

We haven’t reached an age where we can start teaching things like fiscal responsibility, or familial responsibility in terms of chores, etc. Before I was a parent, I probably would have had some strong opinions about what we would and wouldn’t do in terms of these decisions. Now, I’m taking a “wait and see” attitude. I can’t tell you that we will definitely require Xander to do chores around the house or that we’ll give him an allowance or not. I just don’t know right now. I do know that when we need to make the decisions, we’ll make them based on what is best for Xander - what will help him to learn and develop in a manner that we are comfortable with.

I don’t think that anyone wants a child to grow up blaming the rest of the world for his or her difficulties, but I also don’t think that raising a 2 year old to understand that life is hard and you’re just going to have to get used to it is the only way to get there. I read through some of the comments on Jesse’s site, and everyone seemed to think that his ideas were right on the money, and this was definitely the way to go. It makes me wonder how many of those commenters actually have kids… Anyway, it was an interesting article and definitely thought provoking.

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Xander has discovered the joys of getting out of the house and doing things. Now in the morning when we get up, he goes immediately for his boots (for some reason he equates boots with going outside). Once he’s convinced you to put his boots on, he goes for his coat. He can sometimes get that most of the way on by himself, though he can’t zip it. Then he finds either my shoes or Zach’s shoes and brings those to the appropriate person. Finally, once he has convinced you to put shoes on, he takes your finger and leads you to the door, stopping of course to tug on your coat to remind you to put it on as well. Then he’s jiggling the door handle and waiting for you to open the door. On the mornings that we’re getting ready for day care and work, this is great - it keeps him busy and moving forward in the mornings (though it’s tough for Zach to put his shoes on when he’s still in a towel…)

On the weekends, it’s less fun. Zach and I have developed a pretty good routine - one of us sleeps in while the other one gets up with Xander, then we switch the next morning. Some weekends it isn’t entirely perfect - particularly on the weekends that we have to go somewhere earlier in the morning. Anyway, it’s a system that is working well for us so far. Usually when Zach gets up with Xander, after he’s given Xander breakfast, changed his diaper, and played for a bit, they go out and get coffee for Zach. Yes, we have a coffee maker at home, but Zach refuses to use it… a little strange, but whatever. It works out well because when they’re out of the house, I sleep more soundly, and often Xander will nap in the car while they are driving around. They usually get back about the time that I wake up.

Lately though, Xander wants to leave as soon as he gets up. So instead of leaving the house at 8:30 or 9:00, they’re leaving at 6:30. Then when I get up, Xander wants me to leave too - he’s getting me shoes and a coat before I’ve managed to take a shower or get dressed. I’m not sure what is prompting this desire to get out of the house all the time. It’s kind of funny, but Xander gets so frustrated if we don’t actually leave, and he doesn’t really understand the concept of soon, or in 10 minutes, etc.

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Xander is growing at a rate that he seems to be entirely comfortable with. I however, am often struck at how quickly he is growing. It feels like just yesterday we were laughing at his “Wallace hands”, or trying to convince him that rice cereal really does taste good. These days I have become a master of redirection. Let’s not play with the cat’s tail. Here, take this wooden spoon instead. Let’s not climb onto the end table. Let’s play with your Tonka trucks instead. And of course, the no’s. “Xander no” has become a regular part of our vocabulary. Xander, no - don’t hit the speaker. Xander, no - don’t pull the cat’s tail. Xander, no - don’t shake the plant, and on and on it goes.

It’s not all bad though. Xander has some very endearing traits as well. He gives excellent hugs, winding his little arms around our necks. When he’s sleeping he loves to borough into my neck. He likes to laugh, and will sometimes laugh just to make us laugh, which often works, and then all three of us end up giggling uncontrollably. Xander has discovered how to tickle bellies (though it’s often more of a pinch). If we are laying on the floor, he will immediately come over, try to lift your shirt, and “tickle” your belly. The attempt itself is so humorous that I laugh, even if it doesn’t really tickle. Xander loves books. If we sit cross-legged on the floor, he will frequently collect a book or two, back up into our laps, and hold out a book to be read. Xander also can be very particular about where things go. He may not always return them to their correct spot, but if he knows where it’s supposed to go, he often does. On his high chair tray, everything has a place. When he takes a sip of milk or juice, the cup needs to go back in the same location it was removed from. If I move the cup, he stops eating to put it back where it “belongs”. When he is done using his spoon, it has a spot (often at the top of his tray, just barely within his reach). It’s pretty interesting to see where he decides to place things, and try to figure out his thought process. Though I’ve been blowing raspberries on his stomach for over a year now, Xander finally finds this funny. I rarely fail to elicit a laugh (and often a tug on my hair) when I blow a raspberry on his bare belly.

Xander loves shoes - his shoes, my shoes, Zach’s shoes. Anything he can put on his feet. His very favorite is my blue slippers. Xander will take these off my feet so he can put them on and shuffle around the room - which he does quite frequently. He’s become pretty good at walking in them, or shuffling rather and we really need to try to get some video of this because it’s so funny to watch.

Then of course are the sounds and words Xander uses. We love the “ahhh” sound he makes after taking a drink of something or the “ohhhh” sound he makes if something falls or he drops something. He’s got a few words down - shoe (of course), cat, dog, mom, dad, more and occasionally Nan (for Nana). Every once in a while I feel the need to document all of these quirks about our son that makes him the engaging and lovable child that he is. We are so lucky!

toddler, parent, parents, parenting, mother, mothers, motherhood, child, children, documenting children, remembering childhood, growing up

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I’m pregnant. I can’t recall how many times I’ve said that in the past several weeks - to myself, to my husband, family, coworkers, friends, and pretty much anyone who will listen. I’m 12 weeks along, so I’ve already missed out on blogging some milesones. Thus far: I found out I was pregnant on January 24th. By that time, I was about 6 weeks pregnant. Zach and I had been trying for a while, and I was so excited that I couldn’t wait to tell him in some sort of creative way. They say that your first pee in the morning has the highest concentration of the HGB hormone, so when I got up for work, I pulled out the test, took it, and my hands shook when the little digital read-out said pregnant. For the previous seven months whenever I was late for a period I would take the test and then be crushed when it came out negative.

So, unable to contain my excitement, I told Zach as soon as I got out of the shower. Since I had been discussing my conception woes with several women at work, I was also eager to tell them, and of course it didn’t feel right not to tell my family immediately too - I mean, if co-workers know, then family should too! So, I called my sister at home. Her reaction was great. She must have said ‘oh my God!’ 50 times. She asked me a bunch of questions, and told me I had to call Mom at work, which I did. My mother I think was a bit in shock when I told her. She said congratulations and not much else. I think she was also worried about how hurt we would be if things did not go well, but at that point, I was thrilled to know that I was actually able to conceive! I also called Mandy (my sister-in-law), who also had an excellent reaction and was almost reduced to tears on the phone, which of course also almost reduced me to tears. She asked me a few questions, and then let me go so that she could call P.J., Zach’s brother at work and tell him the good news.

After getting the word out, I began to panic that maybe I had spilled the beans too early. I mean, my family has a history of miscarriages, and this is our first attempt, and I was only six weeks along. I began dreading that I might have to go back to everyone I told and tell them that I had miscarried, and then face down pity looks for weeks to follow. So, I tried to think positively. I started taking pre-natal vitamins (apparently they don’t write prescriptions for these anymore, but simply tell you to buy some over-the-counter, which I did). I ate as much fruit as I could tolerate, and made sure that there were vegetables at every meal.

Ginger ale and ginger snaps became my morning routine for many weeks. I discovered that I couldn’t eat first thing in the morning, or I would be face down in the toilet before I walked out the door for work. Now that I am headed out of the first trimester, my morning sickness is slowing down - it is much more sporadic, though some smells (such as pizza) can still set it off. In the first few weeks I craved Big Macs, though I only indulged once or twice. Recently, I can’t get enough strawberries. When I discovered this at the grocery store one day, I couldn’t even wait to get home to eat them - I rinsed them in the restroom sink, and then ate half the pint during the 8 minute drive to my house. I have also threatened friends and family with bodily harm if they get between me and my strawberries - something I didn’t think food would ever influence me to do!

At nine weeks Zach and I went to our first doctor appointment together (I had gone the previous week to meet with the nurse, give a social history and 6 vials of blood for testing). We got to hear the heartbeat which was the most thrilling sound I have heard up to this point. It registered at 174 beats per minute. We went back this month (12 weeks) and got to hear the heartbeat again, slowing down to 166 beats per minute, which is apparently good and normal.

Now that I am at 12 weeks, and out of the biggest danger zone, I feel safe enough to blog about my experiences with the rest of the world. Two weeks ago I had to purchase bigger pants, and I’ve been buying up bigger bras for several weeks now. My breasts are starting to feel more normal, not as tender, though I’m starting to develop a complex about how big they are getting (I’m much more comfortable with smaller breasts). I’m thinking that having a round belly will be somewhat acceptable - I mean at least pregnant women have a good excuse for their larger size. However, I don’t really look pregnant yet, just a little fatter, and that is depressing at the moment.

I return to the doctor next month at 16 weeks for more testing (and more blood taken from me). As I do not have much medical history on my mother’s side, I am eager for any testing they are willing to do. So far, I’ve learned that I do not have any sexually transmitted diseases (no big surprise), and that I’m not a carrier for cystic fibrosis (phew!). Next month they will test for spina bifida and downs syndrome, and hopefully start talking about a sonogram! And yes, Zach and I do want to know the sex of the baby - Zach explains it best: people who don’t want to find out the sex generally say they want the surprise, and in Zach’s mind, what’s the difference between a surprise at 18 weeks and one at 36 weeks? Plus, if you find out early, then you get a surprise at 18 weeks (the gender) and then again at 36 weeks when you find out what the baby looks like. As I am a Type A personality, and need to have everything planned far in advance, I don’t think I could handle waiting until the end (unless the kid doesn’t cooperate and I dont’ have a choice)

So, you can expect about 24 more blog posts on this pregnancy topic - I’ll do my best to blog at least once a week and give everyone an update as to what is going on medically, what Zach and I are talking about, how things are going with nursery planning, and anything else I can think of. If you have any questions, please feel free to comment - I’m happy to answer pretty much anything to do with my pregnancy experience.

baby, pregnacy, conception, pregnant, babies, expecting, birth, child, children, morning sickness

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