Equilibrium

For expecting and postpartum mothers in the Chicago area...

I'm pleased to announce that I'll be leading a "Becoming Mothers" group starting in September at Bloom Yoga Studio in Chicago's Lincoln Square neighborhood. Here's a snippet from the full description of the group:

Pregnancy and early motherhood is full of excitement…and a ton of questions. Wouldn’t it be great to discuss everything from nausea and stretch marks to concerns about breastfeeding and birth with other moms who are experiencing the same things? Our free Becoming Mothers group is meant to be a safe, nurturing environment for expectant and very new moms to discuss the joys and challenges of pregnancy and postpartum. Babies are welcome to attend. For pregnant moms and new moms with babies up to about three months old.

The group will be held on the fourth Tuesday of each month from 1-2:30 PM. I will also be adding an evening and/or weekend group, but need to work around the studio's scheduling first--if you're interested in that group drop me a line and I'll keep you updated.

Bloom Yoga Studio is located at 4663 N. Rockwell, Chicago, IL 60625. In addition to yoga classes, Bloom offers a variety of classes and workshops for parents and babies. Check out their offerings!

Meme...

I got tagged by the very smart and fun MarketingMommy (who also happens to have an adorable baby).

So here it is:

First, the Rules:

1) Post these rules before you give your facts

2) List 8 random facts about yourself

3) At the end of your post, choose (tag) people and list their names, linking to them

4) Leave a comment on their blog, letting them know they’ve been tagged

And now… my facts:

1) I grew up in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. But I no longer say "eh".

2) I am 30 and have moved a total of 21 times in my life (including across-town moves). After this last time, I'd prefer to never move again, but we'll probably have to at least once more. Next time I'm hiring professionals.

3) I am careful about keeping my bathrooms clean but will completely forget to sweep the kitchen floor until things stick to my feet as I walk through. 

4) Three of my four babies were born underwater.

5) Growing up, I wanted to be a teacher, actress, singer, Solid Gold dancer and/or writer.

6) I wrote an entire song, in crayon, when I was five, then choreographed a video in my living room. I can still remember the chorus. It wasn't half bad for a five-year-old.

7) I was a cheerleader in high school. I sucked, and I didn't even try particularly hard. I also hated wearing the skirt because my parents wouldn't let me go tanning and I was extremely pale. I still wonder why I bothered. (it wasn't because cheerleaders were cool--at our school, they were not).

8) I have been writing a parenting column for over three years. That means I've written about 175 of them. I had no idea I had that much to say!

And I tag you:

Esme

and

Annie

This cracked me up...

As a mom of "only" four whose last trip to the store with all of them nearly brought me to tears, I can certainly relate to this hilarious E-bay post...

And here's the writer's blog.

New Column: Disastrous Discipline Techniques

Having been a parent for almost 10 years, I've made a lot of mistakes in the discipline department. Of course, we learn how to be good parents through trial and error, but there are some errors I wouldn't want anybody to have to repeat. So, to help new parents everywhere, I've offered my critique of the top two discipline strategies I do not recommend:

1. The Ominous Count

Sure, it'll work the first time you do it; that desperate moment when, faced with no other reasonable options and a defiant child, you turn into some kind of deranged Muppet from "Sesame Street" and begin forcefully counting out loud. Perhaps you have an end game in mind. Perhaps not. Either way, counting slowly and declaratively is exhilarating, an exercise in parental authority. "One...TWO....three..."

And the first time, that's usually as far as you'll have to get. The unexpectedness of it, your tone, that half-crazed gleam in your eye, all those will signal your child to stop whatever it is he's doing and cooperate, because whatever lies on the other side of five must be REALLY bad.

But don't think you'll be so lucky forever. Before too long, your counting routine will have lost its original zeal. Your child will decide it's worth the risk to stay around and see what you'll do when you get to five. And if you're like me, you have no idea. Out loud, you continue to count, while in your head, you desperately try to figure out what to do next:

"Five ... six ... seven ... eight ...nine ..." uh-oh, what am I going to do when I get to 10?

"Ten ... 11... 12 ... 13 ...." Shoot! I can't let myself get to 20. I have to come up with a plan pronto! But what? Think!

"Fourteen ... 15 ...." Finally, you realize this is going nowhere, and lamely try to get some resolution to the counting. "OK, you made me get to 15. Do you know what that means? No cookie after lunch!"

If your child is like mine, he gives up the cookie without flinching. Dissolving the power of the count? Priceless.

2. The Endless Bargain

Sometimes, giving choices can be an effective strategy. When dealing with my 3-year-old, for example, I might say "Do you want to get in your car seat by yourself or do you want me to put you in it?" Or I might say "Would you like to eat your carrots on your rice or next to your rice?" When he feels some amount of control over his destiny, he's a lot more agreeable.

I'm talking about a different kind of bargaining. The kind where, instead of two choices, the eager-to-be-accommodating parent offers a whole menu:

"Do you want to get in your car seat by yourself? No? OK, shall I put you in? No? OK, how about if I move your car seat to the other side of the car?" (Much sweating and grunting over car seat un-installation and re-installation ensues.)

At this point, the child starts to get the picture: if he can just keep his mom jumping through hoops, he might never actually have to get in the car seat. "NO! I wanted it over THERE!" he cries. At this point, many moms will realize they've been had, physically install their ungrateful kid into the seat, and take off to go shopping. But a handful will try harder to please. "Do you want to sit in the back row? Do you want to stay home and have juice instead?" And just like that, shopping is off the agenda.

Once in a while, it's nice to allow your kids to be the "boss," giving them the power to make a decision instead of always being told what to do. But the problem with the endless bargain is that the more options you give kids, the less likely that they'll be satisfied with any of them. My advice? Stick with giving two choices, and make sure both are acceptable to you. Otherwise, you just end up punishing yourself.

As for counting? I swore I'd given it up, but the other day Owen kept climbing up on the counter. I wanted my little daredevil to get down, so I held my arms out. He refused to budge. I found myself counting. "One ... two ..."

"THWEE-GO!" he yelled, leaping off the counter into my arms. For Owen, a new, exciting game was born. As for myself? I cursed the day I'd ever learned to count.

(as always, you can read past editions of my columns at the Lansing NOISE website)

Dental Q&A

I've got a feature in this month's Parenting magazine about caring for your child's teeth.

Which reminds me that it's really time for me to make everybody an appointment for a cleaning and checkup. Just one of those things that can be daunting with four kids (especially when they all get teeth at like 2.5 months and have full sets of chompers by a year--wtf is up with that!) Do you bite the bullet and make the appointments all together so that you spend one hellacious day at the dentist's office with a toddler who, after twenty minutes or so, will spend the rest of the time climbing, jumping, shrieking, and trying to break things, and then write one--gulp--big, painful check? Or do you spread it out? Considering that you're technically supposed to bring your kids back in for a checkup every six months or so--and, of course, more frequently if they have to have work done--that means a dentist visit roughly every month (if you include myself and my husband, which I really ought to), and writing out those big painful checks in 1/6 chunks at a time.

I dunno, seems like six of one, half-dozen of the other to me. Like ripping off a band-aid versus pulling it off slowly. I know, the general consensus seems to be that it's better to rip it off and have it done with, but I'm still not entirely convinced.

Newest column: Big families trendy?

I know I've posted about this here already, but if you're interested in the big family stuff, you may want to read my latest column. It's a somewhat more polished version of my original post on the "competitive birthing" story. Here's a few snippets:

Pardon me, I think I just saw a woman walk by with five children. Now I must hurry to go through morning sickness, swollen feet, varicose veins in varied locales, hot flashes, itching, hours of labor, birth, sleep deprivation, diapers and hours of walking the floor with a screaming infant ... just to be sure I'm not left behind.

Does it sound as ridiculous to you as it does to me?

I have easy pregnancies and births, love my kids, and still have plenty of time left for having more if I wanted - and I have a competitive streak, to boot. Still, I can only scoff at the idea of going through it all again just to have the biggest brood on the block. Making and raising kids is hard work, even if you have help. To do it over and over again would, for most sane women, require a much bigger payoff (like, say, loving your kids) than just being the coolest mom on the block.

If you'd like to read the rest, click through here; then come back and tell me what you think!

The autumn approacheth...

Over at largerfamilies.com, I asked the question: what does the approaching fall mean for you?

We all know what it means for kids. If they go to school, pencils and books and a desk. If you homeschool, it may still mean pencils and books and a desk, or perhaps those awesome hands-on, child-led projects I always consider with a sign of envy. If you have a baby or toddler, perhaps it just means crunchy leaves to play in and a new hat. But what does it mean for you, the grown-up in the house?

I know it's a bit early to be thinking about fall, considering that it's 88 degrees out. But folks, August is nearly half over, and for us, school starts in eleven days. It's not fall yet, but I'm sure thinking about it.

As for me:

• Fall always makes me want to jump into some big project. Right now I'm re-designing largerfamilies.com on another platform (Thanks for the Drupal advice, Dawn!)  I've also got an idea percolating in my head that's too big to even wrap my still-sweaty brain around at the moment. That one will have to wait until the temperature drops by about 15 degrees and the leaves start turning.
• Fall makes me want to buy school supplies. Lots of them, but particularly folders, lined paper, number two pencils and really good gel-ink pens.
• Fall makes me want to cook things with apples and cinnamon in them. Not necessarily even to eat. I just want to smell it bubbling away in the oven.
• Fall makes me want to buy heavy, orange sweaters. Even on the coldest days I rarely wear heavy sweaters; yet in the fall I will convince myself that I need them. Badly. "What about if I go to a football game in November?" I'll argue with myself, not letting myself consider that I haven't been to any outdoor football game since I was actually in college, and even then, I left as soon as my fingers got cold.

What about you?

Latest column: Breaking breastfeeding taboos

(As an aside? I hate the hyphenated version "breast-feeding". There's something about it that just doesn't seem like a real word. But it's the style in many newspapers, so I must comply when I write my column. )

(another aside: as always you can read past installments of my weekly column, Mama-Rama, at the Lansing NOISE website).

Now, on with the breast-feeding. Or, breastfeeding...

When I was pregnant with my second child, a friend and I got to talking about breast-feeding. It hadn't gone too smashingly with my first; and though I could easily picture myself nursing my new baby when he was born, when I thought about how long it might last, the image got a bit hazier.

"Maybe six or seven months, definitely no longer than eight or nine," I told my friend, adding smugly: "The way I see it, when they're big enough to stand up and ask for it, they're too old."

We both laughed. Boy, was I clever.

Of course, I had no way of knowing how soon I'd eat my words. I didn't realize that breast-feeding goes far beyond infant nutrition, providing comfort and closeness for big babies and toddlers. And I had no idea how normal it would become to continue to nurse my child as he grew well out of "baby" into "toddler."

Because of the difficulty I had nursing my oldest, I was so determined to get a better beginning the second time around that I refused to use any bottles when he was a tiny baby. Before I knew it, I had a 6-month-old nursing enthusiast who would not switch to bottles. Then, he was a 12-month-old who regularly walked up and asked for it - something I would have once been horrified by - and I found it didn't bother me a bit. Sure, he was a big, boisterous toddler, but my baby was still my baby. And somehow it no longer seemed weird ... so we just kept going.

But it seemed plenty strange to other people, who gave me quizzical or downright disgusted looks when my son tried to oh-so-charmingly cop a feel in public. Sometimes people I barely knew demanded to know if I was "still doing that," and if so, WHY.

A staunch defender of a woman's right to breast-feed whenever and wherever her baby needed her to, I suddenly found myself hiding away when it came time to "do that." It was clear that, in the eyes of many, our nursing relationship crossed some kind of boundary. It made people uncomfortable, and I reacted by keeping it more to ourselves.

I wonder if I'd still feel the need to hide away if people knew the facts? The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends nursing until at least 12 months of age for all babies, and as long after as mother and baby desire. Nursing past infancy is good for moms and babies, providing excellent nutrition, comfort and disease-fighting, immune boosters (for baby) and suppresses ovulation in moms which can mean longer spacing between babies and also reduces the risk of certain cancers. Experts estimate that worldwide, the average weaning age is between 4 and 5 years old. You might say, then, that at 20 months, Owen is a mere babe when it comes to the boob.

Like nursing in public, discomfort seems mostly due to the popular idea that breasts are sexual objects. I think the reason I was once uneasy with the idea of an older child breast-feeding is that it seemed like a toddler would remember later, and somehow that memory would traumatize him for life. But I don't remember much from the age of 2 or even 3 or 4; and even if I did, would the memory of breast-feeding really land me in therapy? Breasts are functional, with a long history throughout time of nourishing and comforting children long past infancy. It's only creepy to some because they've decided it is.

People sometimes ask how long we'll keep going, and honestly, I'm not sure. I'm pretty ready to throw in the towel; not because Owen is "too old," but because with four young kids, I've just been breast-feeding for a long, long time. If it weren't for that, who's to say? He's certainly in no hurry to give it up, which seems pretty understandable to me: it's been a source of comfort since seconds after he was born.

I hope that as breast-feeding becomes less taboo, so will nursing toddlers - and fewer under-informed people like my former self will think it's strange. Until then, when Owen starts tugging at my shirt and then we disappear for a while, you can be reasonably sure that yes, we're off somewhere, "doing that."

Anti-obesity baby formula?

An excerpt from this article in the NY Times reads: "Michael Cawthorne, director of metabolic research at the Clore Laboratory at Britain’s University of Buckingham, argues that if we act early enough, we may be able to program babies’ metabolisms to provide permanent resistance to excess pounds. He and his colleagues are trying to develop a baby formula with an astonishing property: to turn newborns into those enviable people who can eat what they want without getting fat."

There is something really disturbing about this to me, but I can't quite put my finger on it. Well, besides the fact that I breastfeed my kids and so wouldn't be tempted to use this formula anyway, maybe it's this: is it really wise to make ANYBODY the sort of person who can "eat what they want without getting fat?" Isn't there perhaps a reason to abstain from Whoppers and doughnuts and Cokes all day that goes beyond the number on the scale...and shouldn't we, as parents, be teaching it to our kids?

Also, if you read the article you'll see that there are worries that the physiological changes caused by the formula could be harmful in the long run. According to the article, Susan Roberts, chief of the Energy Metabolism Laboratory at Tufts University, says this: “It just makes my breath short to think of what such an intervention might do.”

What do you think? Assume that you could not breastfeed for some reason or another. Would you give your child this kind of formula? Why or why not?

Big families as status symbols, take eighty-seven

Another story about competitive mothering, only now, with a twist! This NPR story indicates that four is, in fact, the new two, in large part because women are becoming "competitive birthers", gestating and delivering as many children as they can in order to keep up with the Joneses!

Granted, I don't live in the same communities or run in the same circles as the women featured in this article, but I can't help but wonder if this particular trend is based on fact or somebody's notion of why people are having big families. There's a big difference, to my mind, between bigger families becoming more common, or even acceptable, in certain circles, and the idea that people are actually having children as "status symbols", or "the newest fashion accessory". I guess I just give most people more credit than that. Even if they are influenced by peer pressure, this Pollyanna doesn't believe that most mothers are so shallow as to go through the exhausting process of pregnancy, birth, nursing, and raising more kids than she truly wants, just to "keep up". Could it be instead that there's a real biological urge to have kids, and that once you're in a community where having more kids is accepted, women are more likely to give in to that desire?

For myself, the answer doesn't really matter. The world of million-dollar homes, full-time nannies or even $15,000/year spent on lessons and sports is so foreign to me--and most mothers I know--that it's barely even worth contemplating. (For a hilarious reality check, read this blogger's take on the NPR article.) And personally, I care a whole lot less about the "why" people are having more kids. The numbers are as personal and as unique as the reason ANYONE has kids, of any number. I'm much more interested in the "Okay, now I've got 'em--how do I feed, clothe, shelther, teach, love, discipline, and clean up after them?" part. Which is what my book is all about. 

Hopefully, parents with big families will find it helpful, whether they got that way through hard work trying to birth as many kids as their next-door neighbor, had a few "surprises", had lots of kids for religious reasons, or simply didn't feel their family was complete until they'd added the fourth...or fifth...or beyond.

P.S...for a look at how real, non-wealthy moms of more live, check out www.largerfamilies.com