What's the matter with Violet?

Yesterday one of my friends posted a poem and I immediatly had a new favorite poet.  And I had to email it to the husband.  This is how the conversation went:

ME: Apparently Violet and Mary Jane have the same problem....though this offers no solutions, unfortunately.

What is the matter with Mary Jane?
She's crying with all her might and main,
And she won't eat her dinner--rice pudding again,

What is the matter with Mary Jane?

What is the matter with Mary Jane?
I've promised her dolls and a daisy-chain,
And a book about animals--all in vain--
What is the matter with Mary Jane?

What is the matter with Mary Jane?
She's perfectly well, and hasn't a pain;
But, look at her, now she's beginning again!--
What is the matter with Mary Jane?

What is the matter with Mary Jane?
I've promised her sweets and a ride in the train,
And I've begged her to stop for a bit and explain--
What is the matter with Mary Jane?

What is the matter with Mary Jane?
She's perfectly well and she hasn't a pain,
And it's lovely rice pudding for dinner again!--
What is the matter with Mary Jane?

 

 

BRENT: Yeah, those symptoms really do seem to correlate to Violet’s condition, although at times Violet’s seems a bit more severe. Perhaps that author has written a subsequent description offering Mary Jane’s solution. We should check into that.

 

ME:  Correlate? Subsequent? Are those work words? You are smart at work, mister. Not that you aren't smart here. You know.....

 

BRENT:

 

Good Morning Heidi-

I really appreciate your sending the below narrative and thoughts as we consider Violet’s condition and explore ways assistance may be provided. In accordance with our parenting responsibilities vested as of the date of Violet’s birth (July 14, 2008), I concur addressing this issue (“crying with all her might and main”) is a high priority.

Your insight in connecting Violet’s condition with Mary Jane’s is great work and your observation on work words and status is, well, right on. Let’s ponder the Violet/Mary Jane scenario that a bit more… Perhaps exploring whether or not Mary Jane successfully resolved her issues will provide some meaningful insight as we move forward. I propose we add this to our agenda for discussion when we meet later today.

I understand Violet’s current condition is challenging at times, however, your work in this area is not unnoticed. You are (and have been) a great partner with this program as evidenced by successes gained with all the children, smiling faces and full utilization of the programs limited available resources. I look forward to opportunities whereas we can continue to partner together.

Thanks Heidi; have a great afternoon.

-Brent.

 

 

I love this husband of mine. 

 

Oh, and the poem is by A.A Milne and it's called Rice Pudding. 

Sneaky Sheep and a funny boy

Carsten is two.  And I find him hilarious.  He speaks in complete sentences, says the darndest things and does the darndest things.  He rules his world.

For example, complete sentences.  Last week we were dropping Violet, whom he calls by her French name of Why-Le, off at preschool when he spotted his dad walking down the hall.  My thought would that he just says, "DADDY!"  But no, he gets a goofy grin on his face and says, "Hey!  What are YOU doing here??" 

And yesterday he was sitting at the table and fell out of the chair, catching himself just in time but not in enough time that he could actually right himself by himself.  He needed help.  But instead of crying or saying, "Help!" he yells, "Hey!  I need you to come help me!"  And not just once, but several times while hanging off the table wedged between two chairs.

Today he did the same thing.  I said, "Carsten!" in an attempt to get his attention.  And instead of saying, "What?" he says, "What do you want, mom?."

He's a goofy kid.

He's a goofy kid who loves hats.  In fact, he owns five hats.  A bear hat from Glacier Park, a dinosaur hat I got for him in Washington DC this summer, a John Deere hat, a baseball hat he got for Easter, and a cowboy hat his great grandma gave him for his birthday. 

And he wears them all.  In fact, he picks which one he will wear depending on he outfit he is wearing--an outfit that HE picked out.  He also knows that he can't wear them at the table or to church.  It's funny. 

My personal favorite is the cowboy hat because he looks so cute when he wears it and he won't wear it without his cowboy boots, also a gift for his birthday. and his cowboy boots make him strut and apparently make him put his hands in his pockets.  Plus, I like to call him "cowboy" and he reminds me of my great grandpa. 

To illustrate my point:

 

 

But I also will admit that he isn't ALL perfect.  He's kind of a pill in church and I would love it if he would let us put him in the nursery.  But he won't have any of that, so one of us usually ends up out with him while he talks too loud and makes all kinds of odd observations. 

 

It would be so much more convenient if he would just go in the nursery.  Especially on Fridays.  I take the kids to a homeschool co-op every Friday and while I only signed up to teach two classes, I ended up with three.  Now, I love this whole teaching gig.  I really, really love it.  And I was thinking, and I have since realized that I was quite mistaken, that I might actually get to do it as a teacher and not as *mom*.  But Carsten would have none of that.

 

The first week I went to the nursery they provide, which is quite convenient because you know all of us crazy homeschool moms who drag all our kids with us everywhere we go.  But Carsten would have NOTHING to do with it.  In fact, I still heard him screaming when I exited the building after I went down TWO hallways and around three corners, up some stairs and out the door. 

 

He was absolutely hysterical.  But I didn't feel like I had a choice.  I didn't know who I felt more sorry for: him or the nursery workers or the other kids in the nursery.

 

You think I'm exaggerating.  But I'm not.  The next week was even worse.  He cried hysterically until I finally called Brent and told him to come get him.  By the time Brent got there Carsten had cried himself to sleep.

 

The third week I pretty much decided that I did in fact have all the tools necessary to not feel like I had to leave him in the nursery.  And I felt like I was emotionally damaging him if I forced him to go in there any more.  He told me all week that he didn't want to go in the nursery.  All week long.  "I don't want to go in the nursery."  And his little lip would stick out and he would look like he was going to cry just thinking about it.

 

So the next week instead of sticking him in the nursery, I got him out of the car and threw him on my back in a carrier.  He told me he didn't want to go in the nursery a half dozen more times before we even got into the building.  I told him he was going to stay with me.  And he did.  And he didn't scream like I was handing him to ax murderers.  That was nice.

 

He did pretty well in class.  Not too distracting and all the girls totally think he's the cutest thing ever.  Which of course he is.  And by second hour his was back in the carrier and headed for a nap.  He slept for an hour and a half. 

 

We have since repeated this several times.  Brent also has every other Friday off, so he takes Carsten when he can.  That works out nice, too. 

 

The kid also likes to read.  Sometimes I will realize that I haven't heard from him in a while and when I find him he is sitting with a pile of books just looking at the pictures intently.  And it is obvious that he has been doing it for some time.  He is quite mesmerized by them, actually.

 

One of his favorite books recently is a book we got from the library called Sneaky Sheep.  It's about these two sheep that are constantly trying to sneak away from the flock to go up to the high meadow because they are convinced it is lovely.  But the sheepdog always finds them. 

 

One day they manage to make it pretty far and they run into a wolf.

 

Now back to Carsten.  This evening he was sitting on the floor mesmerized by the book and then he got up and brought it over to us.  It was on this page where Rocky and Blossom find themselves face to face with the wolf. 

 



Carsten pointed to the wolf and told us it was the wolf.  I asked him, "What does the wolf want to do?" 

"He is hiding."

"Yes he's hiding.  What does he want to do with the sheep?"

"Put them in the nursery."


Yes.  Apparently he would rather get eaten by a wolf before he will ever step foot in a nursery again. 

I was laughing so hard I actually was rolling on the floor with tears in my eyes. 

Stupid fundraisers

Today Violet came home with a note about Box Tops for Education in her folder.  Yes, she is in preschool.  She LOVES it.  I adore her teacher.  It's wonderful all around with the tiny exception of the social nightmare that is other preschool parents.  Apparently there is some unwritten rule that you are not to make eye contact, and if you do, you are glared at.  Whatever.

Back to my tirade. I hate fundraisers.  I always have.  Particularly fundraisers where I have to save labels from horrible soup, tops of boxes from horrible food, buy coupons or coupon books I won't use, or purchase over-priced cluttery things that I don't want.   I distinctly remember Grace, my ever on top of things kid, coming home and explaining to me in detail that we needed to save these things and why.  Even at the store I cringed when she got excited about them and felt we HAD to buy that box.  Eeek!  All this simply out of guilt or some other sort of motivation.

I told Violet's sweet teacher as much today.  I told her that the whole premise was ridiculous and I intended to just write the school a check for $10 rather than seek out horrible food to feed my family and a chance to give the school mere pennies.  I may have shocked her some, but she was very gracious.  Did I mention I love her?

Now since then I have made a vow.  I have vowed that if ever I am blessed with the opportunity to organize a fundraiser for some sort of youth program, I will buck tradition (surprised?) and probably shock a few people in the process.  Hopefully I will start some sort of a trend.

My idea is that I will make up a pledge sheet to give each child.  It will say something like:

Because I realize that nearly every fundraiser I have participated in has been some marketing scheme by a rather large company selling me a product disguised as food with a promise to give mere pennies to my school, and because I really have no need for trinkets or coupons or any other form of clutter, I pledge ($5  $10  $15  $20) to the above program with the understanding that I get nothing in return other than the comfort that 100% of my donation will be used for the purpose stated above and I am free of clutter and guilt. 

And then there are a bunch of lines for names and amount donated.  (Yes, that is one huge sentence.  But it's effective, don't you think?)

If someone came to my door with something like that, I'd sign up in a heartbeat.  So refreshing.  And honest, dammit.

Kayaks!

My parents and two brothers (with their families) came over this weekend.  And since we haven't been enjoying summer like we normally like to (trips, moving, etc. take a lot of energy! And I'm embarrassed that I haven't blogged more than once a month for the last four months!), we thought we'd go enjoy the lake.

Mom and dad have a new kayak.  And a great friend of ours loaned us three of theirs.  Since mom and dad hadn't used theirs yet, they actually debated breaking a bottle of beer across the bow to christen it.  But they decided not to waste the beer and saved it for after we got home.

Brent and I went on a date.

Actually, it was something like 30 minutes paddling around the lake. 

But hey, that's about as close to a date as we've had since all the kids were in Sunday School or sitting with grandma at church for 15 minutes two years ago or something.

We take up a lot of shore line.  So nice to go enjoy the sun!

Daddy took Calla out in the kayak.  She was pretty scared at first, but decided it was fun. 

At least until daddy lost his hat and tried to reach it and almost tipped over.

Grace took every chance she could to get in and on the water.  She was all over it and had a great time.

Speaking of kayaks.  How about a YAK? 

What?

Doesn't everyone bring their YAK to the lake with them? 

No? 

Oh, well this guy must think pretty highly of his yak.

It's name is McCloud.  And it apparently likes to get in the house too.  I only know that because I asked, sarcastically of course, if it slept in his bed. 

Oh, and he has something like four dozen yaks.

And if you google "yak" you get a lot of "kayak." 

I'm thinking that kaYAKing is a once in a lifetime experience.

And a date with your husband after four kids is a once in a blue moon or so experience.

 I love this guy.  He even let me go shopping with my mom and sister-in-law while he stayed home with everyone else and started dinner.  I found a great sweater and a new purse to replace my awesome red one that Carsten broke the zipper on. 

KaYAKing.  HA!  I'm going to laugh about this for a LONG time. 

She's the most beautiful 9-year-old I know

As of today, my first born is NINE!  And she is super excited about it. 

 

 

Of course, she's graceful about it. We had a little impomtu birthday party for her with two presents. One from Calla and one from us.

 

Calla gave her the cutest present.  She glued a plastic heart back onto a crown that was part of a Halloween costume a couple years ago and gave it to her all fixed.  She gave her a card that she wrote "I love you 100" in.  She's been saying things like, "I like it 100 percent!" lately and the card was so cute.  And she drew a little picture of Grace on the horse, folded it up, folded it into another piece of paper and stuck it to a giant bow.  And then she smiled and beamed the whole time Grace went through the package. 

 

We gave her what she wanted.  She's been asking for a stereo since her last one broke.  She also asked for a couple CDs.  "The relaxing ones like we have in the car." 

 

At this moment my beautiful nine-year-old is sitting in the livingroom reading while listening to a CD of classical piano music.  She mused, "They must have four hands to play like that, mom." 

 

"It's just a lot of practice, I said. "And speaking of, you need to do that today."

 

But she's just sitting there reading still.  And I'm going to leave her there so I can see her sitting there while I make her birthday dinner--spagetti. 

 

Happy Birthday, Grace.  You get more beautiful by the day!

 

Birthday number TWO for the baby boy!

My baby boy is two. 

Here he is with his face over the candles blowing them out.  He was so excited! Actually, this was the third time he blew them out.  The first two times were premature.

Handsome little boy!

Instead of cake, we made peach ice cream in my blender.  Frozen peaches, some cream, a little maple syrup, and a little vanilla.  Blend until smooth.  Put in little bowls and add two candles.  Everyone is happy and I didn't have to make a cake.  Or more accurately, I didn't have to clean up the cake mess!

And for his birthday he got a COWBOY HAT from his great grandma.  (Yes, he has ice cream on his face . . . )

An appaloosa horse from his sisters.  (He will tell you it's an appaloosa.  Smart boy.)

And (not pink) cowboy boots from his mom and dad. 

He's all set.  Except here he's telling us, "I need belt!"  But he pronounces it "b-ewt."

The kid knows what is going on.  And he's not afraid to tell you. We all giggled for a while over that one. And he was so mad at me because I took his hat before he ruined it so we could get him a bigger size tomorrow.  The kid has a big head.

Maybe that happens when you are the only boy.

And the youngest. 

And this darn cute.

Happy Birthday baby boy!

International Babywearing Conference, 2012--Awesome

This post originally published on the Babywearing International Blog.  And since I was the one who wrote it, I thought I'd put it here, too.  Hoping to get my other fun stuff up here soon, too!



Sometimes in life there are moments that should simply not be missed. Things that can never be repeated. I have several of those experience in my life, including when my babies were fresh, still wet, snuggled in on my heart cavity. It's those feelings you need to soak in and burn into your emotional memory so you can call them up later and revel in it all over again.

The Capitol! I was lucky enough to get one of the *special* tours thanks to a friend who has a connection through a Senator.

This last week at the International Babywearing Conference was one of those weeks. For two years, since I had helped plan the previous babywearing conference in Rigby, Idaho only to pretty much miss the entire thing, I have told my husband on a regular basis that I wanted to go to Washington D.C. to the next conference.

My husband loves me and he spearheaded the effort to make it happen. We got my tickets and he took a week off work to take care of the kids while I flew across the country to soak in the babywearing wisdom and the sights of our Capitol.

It was a week of wondering how it could possibly get any more amazing only to turn around and find that it just did. Much of what I learned and soaked in merely reinforced from a different angle what I have come to know and believe in regards to babywearing. But I also found some new, fresh and exciting perspectives that got me excited all over again.

First, babywearing is essential to new mothers who are learning to be mothers. With babywearing, new mothers are able to exercise (walk), take care of their new baby, take care of themselves, and take care of those around them. Exercise has been proven over and over again to be as effective at fighting depression as medication. Being successful at this new role while at the same time being able to take care of what they were taking care of before the baby was born makes the new mom feel like she can handle this new role. These feelings of success build a strong foundation that can keep her from slipping into a postpartum depression that she can't dig herself out of.

I learned that not only does the baby need the mother's body (as its natural environment), but the mother's body needs the baby just as much. If the baby is not with the mother, the mother's body actually believes the baby is dead and reacts accordingly. This disrupts the intended sequence of events and can cause issues with bonding and nursing and lead to a whole host of problems.

To go with that, I learned that there are three kinds of mammals. There are 'nest dwelling' mammals, like cats, that give birth to babies that have their eyes closed and can't move around much. Kittens are also quiet when left alone and are not feeding.

The second type is 'parent followers' like horses. These babies are fully developed, walk shortly after birth and if they are separated, both the baby and the mother seek to be reunited.

Humans were originally plunked into the nesting category. But then a third category was added: Carried young. In this category babies cannot follow the parents, their eyes are open and they are able to cling. Other members of this category are primates and marsupials. The mother and baby are made in a way that facilitates carrying.

The importance of touch and movement to these carried young was reinforced by the 1970s era documentary Rock-a-Bye Baby by Time Life films. Basically, removing even one of these elements made monkeys separated from their mothers at birth fearful, anxious and even aggressive. But even monkeys without mothers that were given the options of touch AND movement were much more normally developed than those that were not. Removing both elements resulted in monkeys that displayed symptoms of severe neglect, including rocking incessantly and aggression towards themselves.

In one class, it was stressed that it is not the carrier that makes the difference. It's the carrying. In-arms carrying will have the same results as the fanciest carrier (used correctly) will have.

One point that the film made was that we do not know how important a single element is until it is removed. This was an interesting angle on another thought I had--what we will NOT regret. By this I mean that I will NOT regret NOT giving into pressure to wean before I think it's time. I will regret giving up because I can't get that back. I will NOT regret investing in 1-2 comfortable, quality carriers and learning to use them to keep my babies close. I will regret letting that feeling that maybe I'll look weird govern my choice to ignore my curiosity.

Then I met Masayo Sonoda from Japan. She is in Japan trying to change the parenting culture. After the devastating tsunami she realized that in the next four years Japan will be experiencing MANY earthquakes. It is her goal to bring babywearing back to the mainstream so that WHEN (not if) those earthquakes strike, people have the skills to, without thinking, tie their children on themselves with whatever is handy and escape quickly and safely. If these parents are not proficient in using carriers in their daily lives, they will not be able to do that. Her goal is to make it happen.

This is me with Masayo Sonoda. Somehow her use of the fabric square is much neater than my effort to contain my Amauti. It was my second exposure to Furoshiki, a Japanese method of tying, at the conference. I *may* have suggested it as a class for the next conference.

Traditionally, the Japanese culture used gorgeous carriers to carry their babies. But as the country modernized, this skill was lost. The Japanese story is one that is common all over the world. But what we have learned is that even though the culture changes, the needs of babies do not change. Babies still need to be carried.

To advocate the practice of babywearing, we are changing the culture. Even if we are changing culture one family and one baby at a time, we are still changing culture. I met one mom a the conference who told me her heart wrenching story of how she sunk into and made it out of postpartum depression that was so severe she was hospitalized four times in a psychiatric unit. She was a brand new mom in a new community and had no real connections and her family was 1500 miles away. We will never know what could have prevented her experience, but it simply reinforces my goal to create a warm, welcoming, helpful environment at my monthly meetings. Expecting and new parents are there looking for tools to make their journey what they want it to be. It's my job to help them. It goes back to what we will NOT regret. We will NEVER regret helping a new parent discover the joy of carrying their baby. We will NEVER regret giving a new parent the tools they need to be functional again. We will NEVER regret seeing that look a new parent gets when it all clicks and their world opens back up to them again. We will NEVER regret giving them "permission" to go with their instincts. Even if it doesn't seem to help at the time, it is our job to share with them what we have worked so hard to learn for ourselves even if it doesn't seem to help during that moment.

This story ends well. We sat in a restaurant in Washington D.C. and listened to her story while she sat eating ice cream with a sleeping baby on her back. She also stressed that she was there, having taken the Metro several stops from where she parked her car, without a diaper bag! And she was okay with that! She was showing the world who was boss once again. Needless to say, I bought her that bowl of ice cream. It was the least I could do.

As I flew out of Washington D.C., I was thinking that really this trip could not have gone any better. It was phenomenally full of incredible people and incredible experiences I will never forget. I am on fire again. And honestly, I feel that by going and having the grand experience I did, I was able to honor all the people who went out of their way to make it happen for me. This includes my husband and his family, my children, my amazing friends and family both at the conference and at home, and in Oregon and Washington. It includes all the people involved in planning the conference and their support systems, the instructors and the people who showed up to share the journey. I am utterly overwhelmed by my experience and will do my best to pass the gift of babywearing someone gave me nearly nine years ago onto others. This I will NEVER regret.

Me and one of my sweet babywearing friends I got to hug a bunch at the conference. My life has been enriched on so many different levels thanks to babywearing!

--Heidi Donnelly
BWI Board of Directors