Suburban (in)Sanity

The evolution of sharing

"You guys figure it out" is a common phrase in my house. Two kids, an infinite number of legos, and many sharing violations each and every day. Something about being a child necessitates a me-mine-gimme-gimme-you-can't-have-it kind of mojo.

So I tell the kids to work it out. When that fails (er, often) I offer some suggestions. Taking turns, dividing piles, a reasonable substitute. Yet still tears fall, and complaints ensue. Tattles are told. It's just a Sharing Mess, and I think my kids are pretty good at this stuff!

I think, to them, Sharing is a dirty word. If offends their child sensibilities. To share is to become less a child. Or something. 

I'm constantly encouraging them to share, admonishing them for not sharing well, and punishing when they refuse to share.

But what's so fascinating is that the whole point of getting married, having children (or doing this in whatever manner you choose, recognizing that some choose or must raise children solo) is to share the work, to have someone to help you. As an adult, sharing is a REWARD. Sharing is what happens when you've done it right, when things are working well. (yes, I understand the irony of this...)

So where does this happen? And how impossible is it to teach sharing? And all the sub-rules of sharing...you know, it's not okay to share your lunch (peanut allergies) nor your homework (cheaters!) But you need to share the ball at recess, the legos at playtime, your board game with your sister. Poor kids are getting cognitive whiplash from all the rules about sharing!

Breastfeeding question: My doctor says there's no benefit to breastmilk after 1 yr but I want to continue pumping - what should I do?

It's been a busy week for breastfeeding help! This is another in an occasional series of answers to common breastfeeding questions I field in my volunteer work as a breastfeeding counselor. Standard disclaimers apply as explained in this post.

==

First, I am really surprised that your doctor thinks that breastmilk isn't adequate for your child's nutritional needs. It's quite shocking, actually! I am disappointed that your doctor is unaware of the reams of excellent research out there. The WHO (World Health Organization) breastfeeding information is top-notch and clearly discusses why breastfeeding past one year is a good idea. There is great information on La Leche League's website as well, but i wanted to point you to this resource on nursing past one year on the very well-regarded breastfeeding site, kellymom.com.Additionally, I have heard Dr. Jack Newman speak on this subject a few times. He has a great resource on his website called "What to feed the baby when mom is away at work." His primary quote that I recall from his talks is "breastmilk doesn't turn into just a "white fluid" on the 12 month 1 day mark. It still has all of those nutritional benefits we knew about before the 12 month mark."

If you were in the mood for a cheeky comeback, you could ask your doctor for the studies that show that cow's milk has superior qualities to breastmilk. After all, cow's milk is made for baby cows, a whole other species. It does have many nutritional benefits, I drink cow's milk and have no problems feeding it to my children, however, cow's milk is not tolerated by everyone. Furthermore, mother's bodies continue to adapt the kind of milk they make to the kind of child they have. The milk a mother of a one year old is dramatically different (in quantity and makeup) to the milk made by a mother of a one week old, and that is dramatically different from the milk a mother of a preemie is making. Our bodies know what they're doing, our babies teach us.

To get to the practical details of your situation, here are some thoughts from me based on my experiences working and pumping. I nursed my son until he was almost two. I worked for that whole time. At 12 months I began to taper pumping sessions, because I was finding that he could be well entertained by the babysitter with solids feeding (he had never taken a bottle very well so his milk was typically in a sippy by then.) I also was starting to get flak from co-workers "Really, you're still pumping? How old is that baby now anyway??" It was astonishing to me that the people who were supportive when my son was itty bitty suddenly got weird about it. It is endlessly frustrating that we're not farther in our acceptance of breastfeeding as the norm here in the U.S.

At any rate, in addition to tapering the pumping sessions, I was laid off when my son was 13 months old, which changed my life dramatically (I don't recommend it, it was devastating at the time, although I have to look back with a bit of 20/20 hindsight - had I not lost that job I don't think I would have been able to decide to stay home, which I did when my son was 2 and I was 30 wks pregnant with his sister!) I don't recall what happened to my pumping routine, other than things were a little up in the air during my job search. We kept the babysitter, but I think I nursed on demand during those times. When I did get a new job when he was 15 months old, I didn't pump at work, I found I didn't need to.

Rather than offering a lot of other milk during our separations, I let the sitter give him ALL of his solids for the day. That way, when I was home (and in the morning before I left for work) I just nursed whenever he wanted, and I didn't have to fuss with the bowls and spoons! :)

Truthfully, that baby has never been much of a milk drinker, having milk only occasionally even now at age 8. I let the sitter offer him cow's milk from time to time, but I didn't make it a primary source of nutrition, figuring that I was responsible for providing that. I did make his baby food, so I had good control over the kinds of food he was eating. I made a lot of a soup mixture of many mild chopped veggies (corn, peas, carrots, green beans) with a teensy pasta, vegetable broth (we have raised our children as vegetarians, but meat-eaters would want to chop up meat into very small pieces and add it here) and then I used infant barley cereal to thicken the soup into a stew that stuck well to the spoon. He loved this soup and would eat it a few times a day. Chopped tofu could be added as well. I felt better knowing that he was eating foods I had prepared even if I wasn't providing pumped milk. We also used up any frozen milk during that 12-18 month time period.

Because we had a sitter, I didn't have to negotiate these details with a daycare, but I wonder if they might be receptive to you just bringing in pre-made sippy cups? Do you have to tell them what's in the cup?

As with all feedback, please take what works for you and your family and leave the rest. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask to clarify.

Best wishes to you as you work to negotiate this next phase of motherhood. The fun never ends, I have to tell you! :) Making choices that are a little outside the norm puts us in constant...discussion...with others. But you know, it's what we do as parents. We do our best for our children, even if that is different from what others around us are doing/recommending.

Breastfeeding question: How to prepare for breastfeeding with a planned c-section?

One in an occasional series of answers to common breastfeeding questions I field in my volunteer work as a breastfeeding counselor. Standard disclaimers apply as explained in this post.

===

You should know that even with a c-section, your body still knows how to make milk for your baby. It’s the delivery of the placenta that triggers the body to begin the process of your milk “coming in” which you may have already heard about. And your body has been making colostrum for a number of weeks by now! There is some great information about what’s called Lactogenesis (there are three specific states discussed – I, II, and III on this page. It can run a little technical but it’s worth a look.) on this page about lactogenesis.

These articles also discuss early-weeks concerns such as how to position the baby at the breast, what to do if you encounter problems, etc.

Latch

Early Weeks

The biggest suggestion I can offer you is to try to get the baby to breast as soon after delivery as is feasible, even if you’re still recovering. This can simply be a skin-to-skin connection between you and baby where the baby has the opportunity to seek the breast and try to latch (it’s a very innate process, as you’ll see.) A helper/husband/support person can aid you in making sure baby is safe if your mobility is impaired.

On a more practical front – most friends (I had only vaginal births) have told me that the best bet with cesarean is to get up and moving as soon after delivery as you can, as the mobility helps get all your parts working again (which is important for your release timing) and also just helps you feel better faster. If you feel pain or have concerns about the incision site, many moms find that holding a pillow against it can help them feel better. This can help when nursing as well, placing a pillow across your incision site. (I’ve even heard of moms who do this when they need to cough or laugh in the very early days, as it helps them feel less like they’re pulling at their stitches.)

Once you’re through the surgery and you’re with your baby, nurse often. Removal of milk/colostrum from the breast is what triggers the body to make more (this is explained in more detail in the lactogenesis link above.) A c-section baby may have been exposed to more anesthesia during delivery, though this is often less the case when dealing with a planned c-section, so you may not experience this. If the baby is sleepy or seems less interested in breastfeeding, try to do as much skin to skin contact (baby in just a diaper against your chest) as possible. This is one of the ways your hormones regulate, and also other body processes like body temperature. Babies in the early days should nurse 8-12 times a day (more isn’t out of the question either.)  If your baby is sleepy, you can tickle her toes or under her chin to try to rouse her. Use the breast to tickle the baby’s cheek to get him to turn and indicate interest.

Mama conundrum for the week

Had a bunch of friends with kids over today. After everyone left I discovered a pair of socks, which had been abandoned in the sandbox but had been brought inside.

The conundrum? Do I absorb these plain white socks into my children's sock wardrobe and assume karma will kick some socks out of the drier vent at the Missing Sock Mama's house? Or do I try to figure out who the socks belong to, wash them (cause they're filthy - they were in the sandbox for crying out loud!) and keep track of them til I see her next [1]?

It's like one of those logic puzzles - it wasn't child A or B because they're who brought the socks in for me, couldn't be child C because his feet are tiny, might be child D who is known for removing socks, but so is child E who was also seen playing in the sandbox (yes, there were a lot of children over today!)Or...I know! I could blog about it, and then send a link to the blog to the friends who were over today and the Missing Sock Mama can tell ME what to do! I like that option. Hello friends!

[1] At which point I will need to have remembered to bring them, and will have failed to do so, so I will have to remember to bring them the next next time I see her. I will likely have to find three different places to store the socks in the meantime because I won't want to forget them, but then because they're just sitting there on the counter/in the back hall/on the coatrack I'll ignore them because they'll have become part of our background noise of clutter and junk

Breastfeeding question: When is a good time to start pumping?

I do breastfeeding support, and it occurred to me recently that I create a small mountain of content each year just in the email replies I write to mothers, grandmothers, friends and family. If only there were a simple way to archive such content and index it so that it's available to more than just the one mom I helped that day? Hmm...

So this is the first in an occasional series of random bits and parts of breastfeeding answers. A few standard disclaimers: these are offered for information and support purposes only. I am not a medical professional, you should contact your health care professional with any medical questions. However I and the volunteers who work in this field as I do are experienced in the things that happen in the normal course of breastfeeding. Please feel free to ask any of your common breastfeeding questions via the comments section or personal email.I will always remove any personal details from the notes I post. If by doing so, something gets lost in the translation, please let me know and I'll clarify.

------

Now, onto the regularly scheduled program: When is a good time to start pumping? (Context: Asked by a very recently-delivered second-time mom who has some slight engorgement and is not returning to work for a while.)If you don’t need to save milk for any specific upcoming separation, I’d suggest you wait for at least a month until breastfeeding is well established. Pumping early when you’re trying to get your supply in balance with your baby’s needs can be tricky, as you can pump too much and make any strong letdown or abundant supply worse.

For managing engorgement, have you heard me suggest cabbage leaves before? It’s a little crazy sounding, but there’s some evidence that a substance in green cabbage leaves has anti-inflammatory properties. Just take a leaf, crush it slightly in your hand to break the veins (the substance is in there) and stick in your bra. Yes, you’ll smell like cabbage but it’s very temporary and worth a good chuckle. Only leave the leaves in until they wilt – 30 mins or so. Bonus – when the cabbage is cold from the fridge it feels refreshing on sore breasts!

If you feel like you need to pump because baby can’t latch on, or because you’re so engorged, try pumping only for a few minutes, 2 or 3, just until the breast softens a bit. You could also hand express to achieve the same effect, collecting any milk in a glass measuring cup (seems to work well for transferring to a storage device later.) Only do this for a few days to get through engorgement, and only do it on feedings where you feel like baby can’t latch because the breast is so full/taut.

On not knowing anything about the job

Way back a hundred thousand years ago in the land that time forgot (also known as "before kids") I was pregnant and working for the very awesome Fred Brown (who I am sure doesn't read my blog but if ever he were to stop by, I want him to know he was one of the best bosses I ever had and I'm forever grateful to him for saying what he said which I will now stop parantheticalizing and just get on with...)

I was planning my maternity leave, who would be covering for me and all that. They were starting a new big project down in Dallas and for obvious reasons involving a uterus and my body, I wouldn't be going down for. I was discussing particulars with Fred and reviewing a specific date that I planned for my return (just after Thanksgiving, 2001 as I recall. Or was it just before?) He said to me, "Well, don't worry too much about the specifics. You never know how you'll feel about coming back once you have the baby."

At the time, I remember feeling rather ... annoyed by that remark. Fred was not known for being sexist (at all, he was one of the fairest and most level-headed people I had ever worked for) so I didn't chalk it up to that (sadly I had other less level-headed people I worked with in my past to give me ample opportunities of what it looked like when someone was being sexist.) But I did kind of shake my head and think to myself that Fred was an old (lol, maybe 5 yrs older than me?) fuddy duddy.

Fast forward a few days and I had a baby. And the skies opened up, and light shone down, and that baby transformed me.

And I was not just a worker anymore. A mother. I had been working in some capacity for more than 10 years by that point. I had started working as a snot-nosed 19 year old part-time college intern, and just never stopped. I was defined by my job, and I defined myself by my profession (technology consulting, in case you were curious.)

And then that day in September came and my world tilted on its axis and there I was, a mom. And there was this new tiny person, a whole life, and me and his dad as the primary people charged with keeping him alive and well. Gulp.

Ten days later, planes started crashing into buildings and the whole world tilted again. And it was like everyone was being transformed with me, from naivete to world-weary, from simple to cynical. But I had the best part of the bargain because I had that aforementioned beautiful baby, still sweet-smelling and pink in his perfectness.

And then that day in November came and I left him, buckled him up in his carseat to go with daddy to the daycare in daddy's building. And I cried, but I dried the tears and got ready and carried my bag to the train and re-became that worker. But now I wasn't just a worker but a worker AND a mother. And I felt simultaneously more than before, and torn in two, because my baby was miles away from me.

It was two long years of working, including another heart-rending scene involving a pink slip and many, many more tears (I may tell you more about that some day.) And then something different in pink - a pink line, a new life growing.

I was on the train, then, all of seven weeks pregnant, and the realization hit me like a kick in the gut. I couldn't do this, not with another baby. Fred's words came back to me with crystal clarity, and I realized what he had meant.

And so my heart, still torn in two from the previous years, started knitting itself back together as I formed plans, ran budget scenarios, and clipped coupons. I quit. We moved. We had another baby.

It's been almost seven years, and I still don't have a written job description. I am still winging it day by day. But I honestly can't imagine a different life for me. And that part is still so shocking, because even as that worker with the huge belly, I never envisioned THIS. I had a lot of personal disdain for this life of the mom--"just" the mom. Not for others who were walking this path, but a personal nose-wrinkle at the idea of *me* doing this particular job full-time. God, what an idiot I was.

Tasting Notes - 2009 Big Fire Oregon Pinot Gris by R. Stuart and Co

I opened this 2009 Big Fire Oregon Pinot Gris a few nights ago. Pinot Gris is a nice grape, I have always enjoyed Pinot Gris (I'm a big fan of finding unusual grapes or lesser known varietals and trying as many as I can get my hands on. I've been on a Pinot Gris hunt for years.)

Bought the wine at Gibby's in Geneva (same shopping trip) for under $20 but I can't recall how much under $20 it was.

I am a little disappointed in the wine, but I think the disappointment is all personal and mood-based, as I think this is a fine wine. For me, I found it a little too much. A little too deep of a flavor for what I was hoping for a light and cheery white, a little too fizzy (for a still wine) and a little too much fruit. But I believe this depth and fruit interest would make it a fun wine for casual drinkers, or perhaps the serious Chardonnay drinker who's looking for something a little different.

Notes:

Round and syrupy sensation at first. Effervescent on the tongue (I used to like this kind of effect in wines, now I'm not so sure.) Leaves a deeper raisin-y note in the mouth than most Pinot Gris (which often have some similarities to Sauvignon Blancs.) I've usually had crisper, cleaner finishes from Pinot Gris. But there's a depth to the flavor that is unusual for a white wine. Strong fruit forward - ripe pear.

Tasting Notes - 2007 Cycles Clement Pinot Noir

So way back a hundred years ago, before we had kids - you know when dinosaurs roamed the earth, we used to drink wine and keep somewhat detailed notes about them. This was 10+ years ago, and we filled up one cork notebook, and started a second. Then we became parents, and the entries trickled, then stopped. There were a few rogue entries in the 2006s, but otherwise we apparently stopped drinking wine (or caring enough to write about it) in 2002, right after our now almost-9 year old started solids.

Many things have changed in the 8 years...not the least of which is we (again) have time to enjoy wine. But hey - looky here, a blog, too. That's new. ish.

So - where better to keep my tasting notes? Except if they turn out to be more numerous than is appropriate, in which case you'll think I'm an alcoholic. Or if I slur my typing, that can happen (I've read about it happening to others, yep.) We'll just have to keep an eye on these things.

Meanwhile - tonight, I opened a 2007 Cycles Clement Pinot Noir, CA. I bought it at Gibby's Wine Den, one of those great local wine shops, in April 2010. Jan suggested it when I was there helping pick wines out for a portion of the annual benefit I help with for the kids' school. I believe it was about $16, but not positive...

Opened May 10, 2010. Aforementioned oldest child is away at camp for the first time.

Notes: Light, bright start. Almost a pear-like forward hitting note - a fruit tone on the front of the tongue. Yummy, very fruity. Some tannins, a tartness but it's softening with air. I imagine this would be a good wine if you don't drink much wine, particularly for Pinot Noir at that $20ish price point. Forward fruit, but then a currant (think deeper, richer fruit - like a jelly) like later note that finishes on the tongue. Yes, I sure sound fancy, don't I? But hey - I just write what it seems like, you get to interpret it! :)

PS Always validating to find out that I've described the wine in a very similar fashion to the wine maker! "The 2007 Cycles Clement Pinot Noir is vivacious with strong, lush tones of berries layered with supple notes of oak. Sturdy tannins lead to a silky, pleasing, fruit-burst filled finish; a signature of great California Coastal Pinot Noir."

My kids always get picked first!

Before you think this is a bragging post (which it will be, eventually, because honestly my kids are awesome and I want to document it thoroughly while they are 6 and 8 so that when they’ve snuck out and watered down the Jim Beam when they’re fifteen, I can remember the good ‘ol days.) this isn’t really a bragging post.

 

It’s not like they’re getting picked first for a kickball team (I have no idea, do kids even do that anymore?)

 

But no, my kids get picked first for the rotation. Liam is first in his gymnastics team. Not because he’s the best (er, love him and his gymnast ways, but he’s really not the best, though he does a wicked center-splits pancake thing that makes all the grown-ups gasp) but because he’s the calmest. He has this carefree air, doesn’t get too worried about his performance, not anxious (though he tells me that he does get nervous at meets), and he knows his routines. And, well, somebody’s got to go first.

 

The problem is, somebody’s mother has to have her CAMERA out and READY when somebody goes first, and sometimes that mother is a little slow on the uptake (or gabbing with the other mothers, or reading a book, or updating facebook on her phone. You’ll have to forgive her, gymnastics meets are exceptionally long affairs and they are numerous. Mommy must multitask.) 

 

I thought this was a uniquely Liam phenomenon, but it turns out Anastasia is afflicted with the same disease!

 

On Mother’s Day is the kids very first piano recital, and the piano teacher picked Anastasia to go first. I think it’s because Anastasia has been gleefully practicing her introduction with the piano teacher’s little portable microphone/amplifier at lessons the last few weeks. LOUDLY. And confidently! Because, hey, what six year old girl isn’t loud and confident with a microphone?

 

Heaven help us tomorrow at the recital, when Anastasia will open it by belting out, “My name is Anastasia, I am six years old. First I will be playing Yankee Doodle Dandy, then I will be playing Supercalifragilisticexpiolodocious.” And I better go warm up the camera batteries now. 

The Illusion of the Other Helper, or Why Sometimes It's Just Simpler If He's Out Of Town

Importantly, this isn't a rant, or even a vent. Instead, I wanted to explore this idea of the illusion of the other helper because I've noticed it causing me stress in my personal relationships sometimes (not just with my husband, I've seen it with my mom as well.)

Setting and context: 8 PM, my house, post-softball practice. We've been gone since 4 PM. In that time I have driven eleventy dozen miles, dropped a kid at a haircut appointment, dropped another at dance class, went back and picked up Haircut kid (looks cute), did a return at Major Mass Market Retailer (picked up kitty litter and Mother's Day Cards too), returned to get Dance Class Kid, collected kid, got gas, took Dance Class Kid to Softball (yes, at this point I can agree with you, it is ridiculous for the kids to have more than one activity. Dance Class will end after the recital, which isn't until mid-June, sigh.) Sat at softball practice (worked in the car), and then went home.

At 4 I had force-fed both children a Healthy Snack [TM] involving pasta products and soy products, late afternoon dinners of champions. I, however, had not eaten a thing because I'm stupid like that. 

So 8 PM we roll in, husband is not home yet (!!) (okay, a teensy rant, because somehow Dance Class Softball kid's softball practice isn't a Family Event, it's just another in a long list of things I'm responsible for. So he worked late. His workday didn't end until 7PM today. Mine still hasn't quite ended, though I'm on strike so...guess we're even.) Dog needs to go potty, having crossed her poor little legs for 4 hrs. I need to eat, but doggy potty needs supercede mommy food needs (really, is anyone surprised? Mommy food needs come somewhere below Appreciation of Fine Art in Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs....)

And the kids need to empty their lunchboxes, eat again because for crying out loud it was four hours ago when they last ate, make their lunches (hey - they're the ones who wanted an allowance!) empty the dishwasher (I'm a slave driver!) and then skedaddle upstairs for a shower before their 8:30 bedtime. Yes, a rip in the space-time continuum is needed tonight, again.

Somewhere in here after the doggy potty trip but before I'm fed, DH gets home. And somehow, the insanity of doing what needs to be done is just magnified, instead of lessened with the whole Extra Adult thing.

Why is this? An extra person should equate to more hands, you know that expression - "many hands make light work." One of my mom's gems.

But in this kind of harried before-bedtime halo zone, many hands equal double my work. What the heck?

I think it's because I assume these other hands can do the things I need help getting done (e.g., lunch-making), but the reality is these hands were busy with opening mail (somewhere below the need for self-actualization on Maslow's hierarchy) and with watching an 8 year old show off his new bike (okay, that was pretty important, granted.) And ... I don't know. Apparently there were other tasks. I did forget to feed said set of hands, though to be fair it was leftovers for me so leftover-hatin' man was left to his own devices. I think he met his need for food in there somewhere with a soydog or two.

But because there was another person, another set of hands, yet the work continued to multiply, I felt even more harried, even more crazed, than I would have if it had just been me and the kids, which with DH's nutty work schedule is the case at least 3-5 nights/month, often many more.

It's not just annoyance at my beloved, though, because upon consideration, I've realized that I get the same feeling when my mom is over "helping." This is usually because my mom's idea of helping is to empty the dishwasher, which in her world involves putting the silverware away, and then putting EVERY OTHER THING FROM THE DISHWASHER onto the counter, because she "doesn't know where it all goes and didn't want to annoy you, sweetie."

Thanks, mom. I think I'll go do your laundry for you. Except not those shorts. Nor the socks. Eek, not the undergarments! Sorry, no shirts either. Just a load of one dishtowel and a washcloth, that's it. And I'll forget to put them in the dryer, sure thing.

But even when my mom is not rearranging the contents of my junk drawer (she *really* doesn't get us visual-spatial folks who know precisely where everything IS in the junk drawer because it's all in the picture in our head. I can close my eyes even whilst on a beach in Hawaii - which I haven't been on in lo these many fourteen years since our honeymoon - and pick out the locations of dozens of objects in my junk drawer. Bits of string up here near the front, camp knife/fork/spoon set back left corner, the matches from that cool restaurant we lived near in 1997 middle back, under the weights that come with balloons - I have three in there - a yellow disc, a pink heart, and a blue star, shall I go on?) her presence doesn't always help.

I'm being unfair. Sometimes her presence helps. But it can't be during those high-drama times like the hour before bed, or the day when I need to get child A to point Z while also delivering child B to point X, passing by the vet on the way so I can deposit pet C at point Q...you get the drift. Instead, I think I have to be in the right state of mind (no, no, not inebriated, though that can take the edge off...)

And the state of mind has to be mentally relaxed, perhaps with low or no threat of deadline. Yes, I view the children's bedtime as a deadline, don't you?

So, is the solution to just down a margarita when I get home? Or to assume I'll do it all? Or find a way to chill and appreciate the Extra Hands, even when they make more work instead of light work.