Mommies have feelings too

As a child I marched along my merry way, not really thinking about adults and their feelings.  I was more interested in riding my bike, roller skating (which I just did again on Sunday and oh my, forgot how much FUN it is to skate!), and swimming.  I didn’t think about all the things my parents had to do, much less their feelings.

My children are no different.  About a week ago they, along with another friend, were goofing off in the living room, making light conversation about me.  Simple words, not intended to harm.  Words that were just words to them. I laughed it off with them, hurried them to the car and off to school we all went.

But as the day went on I kept thinking about the little things they said and it stung a little.  They didn’t mean to hurt me, in fact, they didn’t even realize I was bothered.

I finally said something. I told Matt first, just because I needed to get it off my chest.  He challenged our kids to think about what they had said and then to write a list of things they liked about me.  (Can I just say how awesome it is to have such a defender for a husband?!)

That night Caroline came to me with a list.  And I have it posted on my bulletin board to remind myself of why I do what I do.

And my kids, well, I think that for one brief moment, they realized that this mommy has feelings that can get hurt too!

Just keep running

runningI didn’t realize how much I missed running until the past few days when I’ve been able to get out and just run.  I feel so tired and weary but after a good hour run, life is all new. 

Running is when I have time to think, listen to the outside sounds of life.  When I run, I’m reminded of who I am and how I can be better at that.  It’s easy to get lost in the routine of life.  And boy do we have a need for routine around here.  Little Miss has decided that nap time is no longer needed.  Yep, no sleep during the day and still up a lot at night. 

But put her in the jogger and she falls asleep immediately, for as long as I run.  Talk about motivation to keep running. 

So I will keep running.  And keep remembering the amazing blessings I have in my life, including one little girl I get to push around on some pretty amazing trails.

The Gift of Time

giftI love gifts. I love to give gifts and I love to get gifts.  The first year of our marriage I would give Matt gifts all the time. While he liked them okay, he’s a words of appreciation kind of guy.  Thank goodness for Gary Smalley and his book, “The Five Languages of Love.”  Once we knew how we best give and receive love, we didn’t feel so frustrated.

Well, I’m gave birth to a gift giver.  Our Caroline loves gifts, giving and getting.  As the days have turned into weeks and almost now two months, I see the newness of a baby waning and an intense need for validation.  (I think this would be true if I’d given birth as well, though, in that sense the kids see the baby coming. When we adopted, it was something “Mommy and Daddy” always talked about  but wasn’t reality until we got on the plane and brought Desta home. The reality of a baby hit rather hard!)

One night Caroline and I were talking. It had been a hard day (as the days have been…lack of sleep turns anyone into a crazy monster).  I was once again apologizing for not being patient, and acknowledging my lack of understanding with her that day.  I then told her about our similar need; that we both needed gifts to feel loved.  I asked her what gifts she wanted.  THEN, I told her what gifts look like to me now.

Gifts for me now include time alone, 20 minutes of quiet, respite.  I shared with the best gift I’ve gotten in the past few weeks.  At least once a week, Matt lets me plug-in my ear plugs and I head into never land while he gets up with Little Miss throughout the night.  I wake up refreshed and ready to head out.  I told Caroline that many times gifts don’t need to be money, but rather things that we do for others.

I want our kids to see, not only hear, how we need to be loved and love others.  As I reflected on this conversation, I realized that yes, I got a gift but so did she.  Caroline was able to see a Daddy and a husband who gives sacrificially over and over again because he loves us.  And Desta, well, she has benefited too.  She’s gotten used to a Daddy at night who feeds her, changes those stinky diapers and loves her.  It’s a win/win for all!

What does me look like now?

We are approaching the two month mark of having Desta home.  In some ways the time has flown by (it tends to do that when you live in 4 hour feeding increments!).  In other ways, it has slowed to a crawl.

I am adjusting to life at home.  I used to enjoy tremendous amounts of freedom for me. I’d spent a few hours every morning at the gym. When I wanted to meet a friend for a mountain run, I’d just go.  Matt and I would go out each week, taking hours to hang out. I slept through the night, every night.  And I felt involved, connected and me.

These many weeks have been a challenge for me.  I am overjoyed to have this little bundle with us but I’m wrestling with those feelings that my life is not my own right now.  And I know that  so quickly Desta will be sleeping through the night.  We’ll be able to leave her with a  babysitter, that life will become easier.

Until then though, it’s hard for me.  I feel isolated at times. My running has gone to the toilet (though I’m thrilled to be able start running with Pam on Saturday mornings again…yay!)  I chose this. I love it most times.  I feel a need to connect to something.  But struggling to figure out what that something is. 

So I keep pressing on, trying to be the best mommy I can be, working to figure out how to include time for ME and what does that time look like.

Crying in Amharic

My mom mentioned this NPR snippet to me today. 

Research is now saying that the distinctive sounds of a newborn’s first cries may be influenced by the mother tongue of its parents.  For the entire article, go here, it’s pretty interesting research.   Now I can see why Desta’s cry doesn’t sound like any of my other children’s cries.  She is “talking” Amharic!  smile

Okay, so the link doesn’t seem to be working.  I’ve posted the article below.

The distinctive sounds of a newborn’s first cries may be influenced by the mother tongue of its parents.

A new study of over a thousand recorded cries from 30 French newborns and 30 German newborns found differences in the cries’ melody patterns. French cries tended to have a rising melody, while the German cries tended to have a falling melody.

The finding suggests that newborns just a few days old may already be trying to imitate the prevailing intonation patterns of the language they heard while still in the womb.

“I think French and German are quite different with respect to their intonation patterns,” says Kathleen Wermke of the Center for Prespeech Development and Developmental Disorders at the University of Wurzburg in Germany. She says that in French, intonation is characterized by a pitch rise at the end of words or phrases, while the German language has a falling pattern.

Those differences are mirrored in the differences seen in newborns’ cries, according to a report in the journal Current Biology.

Imitation May Enhance Bonding

Of course, both groups of infants were capable of producing different types of cries, says Wermke.

But in general, she says, “the dramatic finding was that the French prefer to produce those having their pitch maximum at the end, while the Germans did not.”

Newborns are likely highly motivated to imitate their mothers in order to enhance bonding, she and her colleagues argue.

“If we would have compared German and English newborns, we probably would have found not such a strong difference,” says Wermke, because their intonation patterns are more similar to each other.

A Surprising Amount Of Vocal Control

Previous studies have already shown that newborns appear to show a preference for melodies that they heard prenatally. And Toben Mintz, associate professor of psychology and linguistics at the University of Southern California in Los Angeles, says scientists already knew that newborns can distinguish different languages, probably based on rhythmic patterns.

“But what is really novel about this study is showing that they can actually produce these patterns in their cries,” Mintz says. “Crying is not linguistic, yet they seem to be echoing the acoustic patterns that they’ve heard either in utero or every early on, very early exposure, right after birth.”

He says it’s surprising that such young infants have this degree of vocal control. “That is quite astonishing that they can do this so early on, and it suggests some sort of innate mechanisms that form this link,” he says.

Even though most new parents concentrate on trying to stop a baby’s crying, Wermke says, the take-home message for her is that people should also listen more carefully and truly appreciate the complexity of a baby’s first sounds.

“I think we should be more aware that crying is a language itself,” she says, “and the baby is really trying to communicate with us by its first sounds already.”

Sitting up…another milestone

Yep, she has finally figured out how to sit up…albiet for 20 seconds but still, sitting up!

007

I should know better

In my haste to get Desta to move from the really expensive formula to the wonderful Parent’s Choice brand from Walmart (a savings of over $40/week!) I made a mistake.

All milk based formula + 2 jars baby food a day + rice cereal in 2 bottles a day = 1 very constipated baby

Thankfully the problem is now resolved and I will forever be scarred when it comes to diaper changing. 

Lesson learned!

Dear Middle-aged Woman in the Silver Highlander

A red light means stop.  Look both ways and then make a right time AFTER you yield to any pedestrians, especially ones with a jogger stroller.

PS  Had my heart not been pumping so fast with adrenaline after being just missed by 6 inches from YOUR CAR, I would have copied down your license plate and HUNTED YOU DOWN!

My new Christmas tactic

We employ the cash envelope method around here.

This Christmas season I’m starting early.

Every week I’m buying one or two gifts and putting them away. 

I hope to not see such a bite in my gift envelope come the third week of December. 

I hope!

latteAnd because today was so nice, I choose to use some of my birthday money to invest in a favorite drink.  Yes, the eggnog latte is back and tastes even better than ever!

Realizing who I really am

I’ve been really tired lately.  This is a busy time of life and it all caught up to me.  Desta is sleeping better, at times, but she requires so much during the day.  I pour myself into her, my other two children and Matt and by 8 pm, I am exhausted.

And the real me comes out.  That ugly side of me that I really hate and would love to permanently squish down and never see.  But despite my most valiant efforts, it rears its ugly head.

Take last night for instance. I have told our oldest two, many times, that the quieter it is when I put Desta to bed (ie feed bottle), the more time I have for them to read, etc.  Many times they’ve been told.  Yet, once again, one little person had to speak to me right when I almost had the baby asleep.  Yep, you guessed it.  Wide awake baby, tears and drama and I snapped at this poor little person.  “Get out.”  That’s what I said.  And it sounded terrible and I felt so incredibly guilty.

After I finally got the baby to sleep, I went to this little person’s room and apologized.  It doesn’t change what I said or the impact of what I said.  That’s what’s hard for me.  See, I know I turn into ugly mom many times (especially lately it seems).  And yes, I do apologize but it doesn’t change what happened.  I wish I could just go back and say, “Hey, come on in, whisper in my ear what you want and then we’ll discuss it when I’m done here.”  How hard is that?  Not very.

So I went to bed last night reminded once again of who I am.  And so very grateful and thankful that I know a God who loves me and forgives me and graciously allows me to start over again.  And this morning, I have asked for that new start.  From God, from me and from this little person.

Wish I could have gotten it a while ago.  Guess it’s true that the older you get, the more you see yourself for who you really are.

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About Me

I was born in Jos, Nigeria many years ago. I spent the next nineteen years living in Liberia, Kenya (I have some good boarding school stories for you!) and Ethiopia. This blog began as a way to chronicle the journey to getting our third daughter through adoption. I have found that since I began writing, this blog has become a place for community, support and a safe place to share about my LIFE as a whole. So here are my words on running, gluten-free cooking, mothering, crafting (ha!) and adoption; the good, the bad and the ugly.
Header photo courtesy of Justin Libby and Mathieu Baissac

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