Things I’m glad I’ve done
Mar 31, 2008 Adoption, Parenting
I mentioned that the conference made me glad about some parenting choices we’ve made specifically in regards to parenting an adopted child. I’m going to share them here with the caveat that I don’t think that we did it “right” and anyone who does it differently is “wrong.” I’m sharing it to say that as I travel this road, it’s nice to look back at certain choices and say, “I feel good about that.” I talk a lot about the things that I don’t feel good about (when I look critically at adoption you can assume that the place I look at first and most critically is our own adoption) so I’m going to give myself a break here and talk about the things that don’t inspire even a modicum of guilt. Some of these are also choices we made for Noah and I’m glad about that, too.
- Not changing Madison’s name. I’m glad we didn’t do it even thought it meant neither of my kids was ever going to be able to take for granted that they’re the only people in a group with that particular name. (Both of them are hanging in the top ten lists for some years now.) I’m glad that she was born Madison Michael and remains Madison Michael. (And Pennie put our last name on the birth certificate so both birth certificates read the same name.)
- Carrying her everywhere until she decided to get down and move and even after although she was heavy right from the start and sometimes it wasn’t easy. I’m glad we used various slings and our beloved ellaroo wrap to keep her close. She took most of her afternoon naps tied to me even when she was a great big heavy toddler.
- Co-sleeping. I’m a huge fan of the family bed. I kinda want to write about my own memories around my transitional object (my beloved Pooh Bear) but I feel like it’d be unhelpful. Suffice to say that I wanted Brett and myself to be the main comfort to our kids until they choose otherwise and we have been. I’m glad about that.
- Feeding her every bottle while she was cradled in arms. My mom — who bottlefed the three of us but mourned that she didn’t breastfeed — told me early on that I should never let Madison hold her own bottle and that made sense to me because I figured I’d want it to be as close to nursing as possible. I took it pretty far — like I would take her hands off the bottle and put it on my hand holding the bottle because I wanted her to have skin-to-skin contact, not skin-to-plastic contact. But at the conference one of the presenters said that lactose in milk acts on the opiate center of the brain. That kind of good-feeling? I wanted Madison to get in the arms of her parents. (There was a time when I wanted to feed every bottle — and I did feed her most of them — but I lightened up and Brett did his share of feeding, too.) But we fed her cradled in our arms, cheek against our chest so she could hear our heartbeats. We both feel pretty good about that. (She still gets the occasional bottle, especially for bedtime and that’s fine by us because Noah was still nursing once a day at this age, too. Although for him his once a day was first thing in the morning.)
Like I said, I don’t think that if we’d done things differently that it would have been wrong or that Madison wouldn’t be thriving. More than a decade into this parenting gig I’m not convinced that kids are that fragile. And I also think parenting sanity is at a premium and that when we make choices we have to do that balancing our kids’ needs and our needs and our values and expectations as a family. But these are things that I feel good about and I feel met our values and expectations and that I look back on and still feel good about. Your mileage may vary.
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Tags: adoptive-parenting, attachment parenting, bottlefeeding, co-sleeping, family bed, Madison, my mom, Noah
Wifi should be free
Mar 22, 2008 Parenting
I’m sitting here in the Chicago airport updating on MarsEdit (it’s a blog editing program) but I won’t be able to upload here because their wifi isn’t free. I’m hoping Madison sleeps on the next leg of our trip because that child chattered the whole way here and my brain hurts. She’s pretty wired. We just spent the last half hour riding the motorized walkways back and forth. It made her positively giddy. (I snapped pictures to prove it.)
Madison found the flight exciting and the woman who had the window seat was nice enough to give it up so that Maddie could plaster herself against the window. Most thrilling of all was that I let her order a sprite from the flight attendant and sipping on that kept her busy (I drank most of it because a child with that much energy doesn’t need the sugar influx). She was also impressed with the tray tables and is looking forward to having the laptop sit there so she can watch Thomas on the next part of the flight. And she liked that there are shades on the windows, which she can push up and pull down, which she did, several hundred times. Now she’s singing and she’s pretty loud. I hope people think she’s adorable instead of annoying. Truthfully it’s probably a mixture of both.
(LATER)
We’re here! It was a long, hard plane ride but we survived. Madison slept but no one else did so she’s running around the hotel room making a fuss over everything and we’re all growling at her. Poor Madison — cursed with high energy! Now Noah’s crying so I’m signing off. (sigh) Traveling is mundane hell.
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I love love love love love my kids
Mar 15, 2008 Parenting
Noah is spending the night tonight with friends because they volunteered to take our dog while we’re in Portland and they’re doing a trial run with Noah there to help out. They have four kids, a cat and gerbils but are still willing to take our enthusiastic little terrier-ish mutt, god love ‘em. They’re good people and I just hope our dog doesn’t make their lives worse (my current concern: that Peanut will eat one of the gerbils).
Noah’s blond hair is growing out to messy roots and is way too long for my liking. I want him to get it cut; he wants to keep it long. This is how the tweens are. I finally said, “Noah, I love you and I think you’re wonderfully handsome. I just happen to like short hair; that’s my preference. I can look at you and at your long hair and wish it was short but I still see the handsome boy you are however you keep your hair. And it’s your hair so you do with it you want. Just let me nag you about it now and then.” And he agreed I could nag him so I do. But I also tell him that he’s handsome as often as I say, “Maybe just a little trim?” So far this seems like a workable compromise.
We took Madison out to eat because she came home from dropping Noah off and burst into hysterical tears, missing Peanut. Brett was distraught, too. He said, “I can’t help it — is it adoption? She was so upset that we left Peanut!” (This was exacerbated by her saying, “What starts Peanut? P? I miss Pennie!!!”) I said, “Maybe it is adoption and maybe it isn’t but whatever it is she’s sad so let’s cheer her up.” She picked the restaurant, which is how we ended up at a buffet behind 37 hundred other families. She wanted (and I quote), “CHICKEN LEGS!” Fried drumsticks and lemonade — that’s all it takes. She planned to come home and write Peanut a letter about how much she misses her but then decided she was too tired and would rather go to bed.
My kids — I’m so crazy about them.
Last night we went to the homeschool fair that Noah’s sleepover host’s mom organized and hung out with our friends who are also crazy about their own kids. People may assume that every single parent is nuts about their children but truth is, not all of ‘em are so hanging out with people who think their children hung the moon is a treat (even though I know they’re wrong and actually it’s my children who hung the moon but then they think the same thing about me).
In any case, Noah and Madison are nice people to know and I feel pretty darn fortunate to get to know them so well.
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Tags: Erica, homeschool, Madison, Noah, Portland
Allow me to introduce someone
Mar 10, 2008 Friends, Homeschooling
Abby is not exactly new to blogging. She’s been hanging out on the blog black hole that is myspace (oh the horror of the flashing banners) and she’s been reading most of your blogs for a long time. (Seriously, she is hep to the adoption world like crazy.) But now she’s finally come over to the light and got herself a domain and a wordpress install, thanks to Jenna’s recent notification about the killer dollar sale that was happening at her host. And it is posts like this, my friend that makes me love her. Seriously and yet hilarious. Funny yet wise. Oh dear Abby! How fortunate we are that you left the Michigan cold to grace us with your presence here in Ohio! Our homeschooling life is better for it! (Plus your kids are kinda nice.)
Add her to your blogrolls and learn to love her as we already do!
Anyway, I’m putting this out there because, while I would not trade my life for anything, sometimes it’s hard. It’s hard. And sometimes I write about it with a derisive style and I don’t want people to get the wrong idea. I don’t tell my kids that I think they are black holes of need. That would be mean. I try to meet their needs and then I meet my needs by drinking. Just kidding! I try to meet their needs and it is impossible. Because they’re children. This impossibility and my inadequacy as a mother weigh on me and I deal with it, like I deal with most things, with sarcasm. Self-preservation can be ugly. I’m just trying to make it a little bit funny. The end.
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Tags: abby, Friends, homeschool, Homeschooling, wordpress