Thoughts on Crying Babies

Although I have learned much from Attachment Parenting methodologies and other Gentle Parenting and Non-Violent Communications techniques, I have to admit that I have met very few people who utilize some of the helpful information without becoming dogmatic. In that way, they are no better than those who who follow any other philosophy 100%. I'm talking about Ezzo Acolytes, Staunch Ferberizers, and apologists for any other parenting paradigm.

Urban Princess linked to Mothering Magazine's article: Crying for Comfort: Distressed Babies Need to Be Held
By Aletha Solter. Incidentally, I remember reading this missive in its original print issue. Much useful information can be found therein. However, blanket statements like: "Another advantage of this approach is that toddlers who have cried enough as infants (while being held), and who continue to be supported emotionally as they grow older, are calm and gentle. They do not hit or bite other children. Toddlers who do not have opportunities to cry freely can become aggressive, hyperactive, obnoxious, or easily frustrated. These disagreeable behaviors are often caused by an accumulation of pent-up stress, or the impact of early trauma that has had no healthy outlet." are BS! And, like it or not, I think Mothering Magazine consistently undermines the value of the scientifically sound information they provide by publishing hyperbolic interpretations and pseudo-scientific hogwash as if it were based in the same empirical methods as the research (usually medical) it often intends to debunk. That said, I still love Mothering Magazine. Every once in a while, I'd just like to ask Peggy O'Mara if she's trying to marginalize the value of the information presented in her fine periodical by permitting such frustrating errors. *sigh* But, back to the quote, yeah, BS. All it takes is one meeting with your average granola-crunching, bunny-hugging AP or NVC group and I'll wager my favorite back issues of Mothering that many of the kids you see will cry and scream and tantrum and occassionally even hit other kids with toys or bite a beloved playmate or otherwise display some sign of not being the dulcet, complacent darlings that allegiance to these gentle practices apparently guarantees.

In fact, it pains me to admit that - at this point in my parenting experience - the most messed-up, freaked-out kids I've met were all spawned by ardent followers of the AP/NVC ideas. So there.

I suspect that each Church of Parenting provides doctrine that speaks to particular parents on the point of a specific issue... Most probably have some helpful tidbit at some point. So it is then up to the parent to decide whether they've added a helpful tool to the toolbox or whether to define themselves as ___________ (pick any method with a support group or some other form of congregation) and begin the tumble into fundamentalism.

Harsh? Maybe. I'm not feeling particularly charitable today.

But on this I think I'm right: as soon as a person accepts the comfort of a label, accepting the notion that I am this, they begin to shut off many complementary and competing notions of who they are and what they can or can't do.

I do it all the time, unfortunately. I'm getting better about recognizing that (I hope) and subjecting my assumptions of self to the light of skepticism.

My point is that sometimes that blotch on the wall is just mildew, not the Virgin. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. And sometimes a Mom just needs to put a crying baby down, still crying, so that Mom won't lose her mind.

And on a slightly less curmudgeonly note: I think many AP/NVC rules work best (or, in some cases work only) for families with one child (or two children, tops!) who have the luxury of a parent at home full-time.

(OOooh, I can just hear Urban Princess's knuckles cracking as she prepares to blast me with links and tear me apart for all my errors of logic and rhetoric - that's why I love you, sista!)

Nevertheless, I agree that kindness and sympathy and understanding are the optimal characteristics to convey in our relationships with our fellow creatures (except for wasps... they all need to be squished!), especially our children.

Here's a thought, though - in all our kindness and sympathy and understanding, how often do we (do I) actually teach them that a parent (most often a woman) is a martyred doormat who must always defer her needs to the needs of someone else? This isn't about comforting a crying newborn -- but at what point - and how - do we begin to teach our little ones about self-nourishment, self-control and self-value? This is not a rhetorical question. I really struggle with how to grow and develop the parent-child relationship so that my daughters will grow up to pursue their own goals and not lose themselves if they choose to have children of their own. Obviously, I must model what I want them to do and be. They will naturally assume my limits as their birthright if I don't break out of old habits and gender role traps.

Currently that means that, a few times a week, they have to attend childcare at the Y while I take a yoga class (even though they cry and don't want to do it). And occassionally it means that I put a crying baby in her crib or a tantruming pre-schooler in time out so I can assert some personal limits. In the case of the crying baby, I'm not trying to teach her to respect my limits or anything. I'm just trying to find a limit for myself so that I don't totally lose my own hope and vibrance. Yes, it is that big a deal.

Best of all, maybe I can lose that sense of guilt (with it's companion alter-ego of superiority) that dogma always fosters. I'm not a good AP parent. I'm certainly not a good authoritarian. Maybe I can be a good me and just be a good enough parent.

My So-Called Life

Swiped from The Urban Princess' blog:



Sure I have many real things to blog about, but little time and no energy, so this is my re-entry to the blogging pool. Enjoy.

Mighty Fine Day

The rain is still coming down and roads are beginning to flood in my little corner of the world, so I thought I'd take a few minutes and post a big public Thank You to all the people who made this weekend so wonderful for me.

The Bday Bash thrown by The Urban Princess (she's the one with the magenta hair) was SO much fun! The cake was awesome (chocolate cake with cream cheese frosting)... I'm still fantasizing about it. The company was fascinating - and you simply can't beat a party where everybody can relax and be appreciated for who they are (kids and adults alike).

And Princess's mom (The Urban Queen?) treated us all to fabulous pizza when the party ran on later than planned. YUM!

I arrived home from the party to find a birthday card from my mom waiting for me in the mail. She sent me birthday money. Birthday money is pretty cool when you're a kid... but who would have thought it would mean so much more when you become an old mommy-type? Being an adult with all the fun of budgeting, I generally feel very uncomfortable about spending money on myself. It always seems like there are more important places for money to go than whatever luxury I might be dreaming about. But Birthday money? All options are open and there's no guilt about selfishness. Nice.

Yesterday my superhusband was at his superhusband best. He started off the day making a yummy breakfast (eggs, toast and bacon) before loading us all in the car for a morning of shopping (woo hoo! happy birthday to me! especially when I have birthday money burning a hole in my pocket). First stop was Barnes & Noble, where I bought 2 Foodie magazines and Fit Pregnancy (another magazine... hey - gotta have balance!). That's some decadent shopping!

Afterwards we hopped across the river to Ikea. It was so much fun to be shopping for ME! I bought a wrought iron wall mirror for my dining room (something I've been wanting ever since we moved into this house), two floor lamps, and a few kitchen utensils. And even had a few dollars left over!

We were all exhaused by the time we got out of Ikea so we came home and Superhusband made a wonderful dinner for me, after which we put the kids to bed and watched the third DVD of Season 1 of The Sopranos.

Yup. I think the past two days have pretty much proven themselves to comprise the best birthday ever.

Thanks everyone!

Old

This afternoon I'm going to The Urban Princess' house to eat cake in honor of my birthday. Woo Hoo! I'm so excited to be celebrating my birthday with my family and close friends.

I know at some point I'm supposed to reach the age where I lie about my age and claim to dread my birthdays. Apparently I haven't grown up sufficiently to be embarrassed by my age, yet. And birthdays are still nearly as fun as they were when I was a kid. Maybe not so much in my 20's when every day was spent in the shadow of a death wish... but once I hit 30... well, life just keeps getting better, so I can't imagine even feigning ennui or shame and slathering myself in wrinkle cream instead of celebrating the passage. No thanks. I prefer the cake.

Party on!

Getting Smarter

Today I made the necessary hotel reservations for our holiday vacation to the homeland. Those of you who followed my bloggy adventures on myspace may recall the last time I made such arrangements for a family trip. Quick summary for those who may not remember: I made reservations through Priceline, paid for a three star hotel and ended up in an Extended Stay America. As it turned out, the ESA wasn't quite as bad as I'd feared, but also was not the experience I was hoping for, either.

When The Urban Princess and I did our road trip to Wyoming, last Summer, again I did the hotel bargain hunting (although Hotwire got my business, rather than Priceline). Some of the rooms were good. Some were not. But every step of the way I noticed that the "savings" came at a price... like two adults and four children being stuck in a tiny smoking room with one double bed and not getting any of the perks and freebies (like kids-stay-and-eat-free type goodies that I had assumed just came with the hotel chain experience). Apparently accepting an internet discount rate voids all usual expectations. So using such "deals" didn't end up saving me as much as I thought it would.

(This specific example was a Holiday Inn... The desk clerk begrudgingly moved us into a two-bed room but warned me against booking with the online discount sites again.)

So I'm done with that. I made all reservation directly with my favorite mid-range hotel chain. I've always had great experience with them. Even one particular stay when I was pretty much the worst customer EVER (G had acquired food poisoning at a family function (LONG story... still makes me angry) and projectile vomited all over every surface of this otherwise lovely hotel room - with pretty much the comfiest beds ever... I had to call the front desk for clean towels and bedding and I couldn't apologize enough... I found the maid before we left in the morning to warn her and apologize profusely and she was outrageously kind and generous).

So we'll be paying about $30 more for hotels, this trip, than we would have if I'd done my super-frugal thing. But the increased likelihood of a good family vacation is worth every penny. (In case any of you are wondering, my favorite mid-range chain is The Red Lion. I've always had good rooms and VERY good service with them.)

Overpopulation

A conversation I had, yesterday, with The Urban Princess, really got under my skin. In the process of solving all the world's problems (theoretically, anyway), we briefly touched on family planning and the politics of family size.

As you all probably know, I'm pregnant with my third child.

Many of my demographic of breeders (environmentalist, quasi-liberal, feminist, politically-active types) found themselves entering their child-bearing years with a quandary: Knowing what we do of the burden a booming human population is weighing on the planet, is there any justification for bringing more people into the world?

When I was younger, I assumed I would not have children. Then I grew up and had to admit that I really wanted a child. When it became clear that getting pregnant might not be as simple as boy-meets-girl, I looked into adopting from third world countries and from foster care environments, domestically. Those seem to be acceptable bleeding-heart sources of baby fixes for my ilk. One uncomfortable truth I had to face, when considering such things, was that no agency would even consider me in a fostering position - let alone adoption. According to the standards of the world, a child would be better off starving in the streets, aborted, or spending their lives in a series of temporary homes than being entrusted to someone like me: a less-than-wealthy white woman with a history of emotional instability. Looking at it that way, I had to wonder if they were right. Do I have any business raising a child?

Fortunately, for that particular argument, I've come to realize that my years of therapy and intentional efforts at building my personal stability have probably left me more capable of controlling myself and my emotions (and often the finances/debt reflect exactly those issues) than 75% of the American population. Yes, I'm a little arrogant about that.

A few things have shaped my current views on the overpopulation issue. The first was probably the event of my older sister having her first child. As I saw her change from a self-absorbed teenager to a selfless mother and watched her son grow into a brilliant (if small, at the time) person, it was clear to me that caring and careful parenting could offer a gift to the world that no other work could. Before this, I had lofty hopes of offering a great intellectual magnum opus to the world. I would write the Great American Novel. Or I would solve some great medical conundrum. Having kids was something any peasant could do. My sister opened my eyes and I realized that, when my life ended, no worldly accomplishment would gratify me like knowing I'd created a strong and loving family.

As years have past and I've refined my political views and ideals, I've had to see a lot of realities I hadn't noticed in my youth. One of which is that people who believe very differently than I do, and would mold the world to fit their moral standards (though often they do that molding without conscious will), are having children. All over the world people are having children - hence the booming population - but huge percentages of these up-and-coming generations have no access to education. Religious fundamentalists (not just Christians) and warring tribal factions who place very different value on human life are outbreeding people like me. A great many of the people I like, admire, agree with, etc. are opting to go childless. A few more have one child. The wild-and-crazy ones might have two, expressing the justification that they are only replacing themselves, not being so indulgent as to actually add to the population.

So when I look at what I can do to save the world ('cause that's what bunny huggers like me are always trying to do, after all), the most obvious answer is to raise the next generation of problem solvers. In order to teach them my values, I still have to do my personal best to demonstrate how I want them to live - things like reduced consumerism, increased recycling, gardening, organics, supporting renewable resource development, placing high value on education and creative thinking, personal responsibility, healthy physical habits, critical thinking, kindness, compassion... All that I do reflects my values and teaches my children while (hopefully) improving my little corner of the world for those who are here...

But what my children learn and create will go on beyond anything else I might envision. My current little corner of the world is only mine for a short time. As my children grow, so does the pocket of the world I vicariously shape. For all I know it will be my kids (or theirs after them) who develop new technologies for feeding the world with less burden to the environment. It might be my kids who cure AIDS. Or discover the gene therapy that eliminates bipolar disorder. Or develop a new technology that permanently frees people from their dependence on fossil fuels. Pretty lofty thinking, I admit - but is stuff like that more likely to come from my kids or from the child soldiers in Africa? Or from the meth-crippled masses here at home? Or from the jihadists? Or trust fund babies with their tiny accessory dogs and senses of entitlement?

So I believe that as long as I am capable of caring for the children I bring into this world and raising them to be the kind of people I think this world needs, I am doing my greatest work. Sure, I'm still a little nervous that there are some people who are looking down their noses at me, or judging me ignorant for adding to the population. But I can't live my life worrying about everyone else's approval. Ultimately, I just have to decide what is right.

And then do it.

The Perfect Mundane Day

I'm hoping today will be a good day. I chucked the idea of a Costco run, today. J invited a group of coworkers over for dinner on Friday night, so I'm going to wait until tomorrow or Friday to go buy supplies. Today I will reserve for doing things I like to do.

The nurse at the midwifery practice called, last night, to discuss the results of the ultrasound. She thinks that the radiology/imagery people ought to redo the test at no charge because they didn't get the medical measurements they were supposed to. In a few minutes I'll be calling her to see what she found out about that. I'd love to actually know if we're having a boy or a girl, but I won't shell out another $200 for it.

After that, I'm going to toss A in the car and go to the mall. I usually avoid that place like the plague, but the mall has an Old Navy - which has cheap maternity clothes. And my size 10 maternity jeans are falling off... so I guess I need to go try on sixes and eights. If I wasn't pg, I'd be thrilled by this. I haven't been in single digit sizes since junior high. However, since I am pg, the weight loss issue is problematic. Regardless - I need at least one pair of pants that will cover all the necessary parts. And I intend to splurge on two long sleeved T-shirts too. For a non-fashionista like me, two t-shirts and a pair of pants should be enough to see me through about four days out of the week... and I'll still have my big jeans and the hand-me-downs from my fabulous little sister for when other attire is in order.

Assuming I'm not too traumatized from the mall, it will be followed up by a trip to Trader Joe's. For those unfortunate enough not to live near a TJ's, let me just tell you - it's one of my favorite places to shop. They have great artisan breads, cheeses, wines, etc. And carry a lot of organics (especially for such a small place). It's very laid back and one of the few places I can shop without having to retire the rest of the day.

All of this precedes the arrival of my great friend, The Urban Princess. She'll be over in the afternoon, with her son (The Wild Man) and daughter (Punky Monkey). The Wild Man is one of G's oldest and most beloved friends, and Punky Monkey and A enjoy hours of reciprocal toddler antagonism. The Urban Princess and I can chill out and hash out solutions to all the world's problems while the kids entertain each other. A bonus is that Princess is a total food snob and it's really fun to cook for her.

For dinner, tonight, I'm doing chili w/ salad and fresh corn bread. It's a cold, rainy day. Should be perfect.