My Ten Mommy Mintues

Life in the NICU

2012-01-06T19:37:00.000-05:00

After Carrick's sudden birth, I never really was given a chance to let my brain catch up to what had happened. I was thrown headlong into mommy mode. Not only was I in mommy mode, I was in "I have a preemie in the hospital" mode. This was a totally different way of being mommy than most women get to experience. In some ways it was a blessing, and in other ways it really stretched my boundaries. A blessing? How could that be? Well, for a short answer, someone else changed all his diapers for the first month. That was probably the only blessing, aside from the fact that I never got "really big, uncomfortably waddling pregnant." Hey, when your child is two months early, you can either look at the silver linings, or get bogged down by how horrible it must feel to be separated from your child.

So, in the first week that I was a "NICU Mom" as one of the nurses put it, my in-laws decided to drive out and help us in the first week of our son's life. They stayed with us in the family house across from the hospital (in the same room). It was nice to have someone to to laundry, cook food and run errands for us so that we could focus on being parents in the stressful circumstance that we found ourselves in. On the other hand, it was quite difficult to pump my breasts in the shared room. My father-in-law would see me pulling out the electric pump that the hospital had given me and he'd leave the room without asking. It was especially wierd at night when I'd have to get up in the wee hours to pump because I'd be leaking all over the bed if I didn't. I would sit there in the chair, with the horns on, and do my thing, hoping that nobody woke up.

I was exceedingly grateful for them being there for another very big reason. While they were visiting, they attended the United Methodist church and told the congregation why they were there as visitors. At the end of the service, a retired couple came up to speak to them. They shared that the man was a (nearly) retired pediatrician and they lived just down the street from the hospital. They too had had a premature child and knew what it was like for the parents. They offered up their spare bedroom to me for after the in-laws would leave. They didn't want me to be alone at the family house. Corey would have to go back to work and live in Sedona during the week. And since it was winter, commuting up the switchbacks after work each night would be near suicide. My in-laws took me to their house and intoduced us the day before they were scheduled to leave. I really liked the couple and felt comfortable staying with them. We moved my stuff over there before they left the next day.

So I spent the next month living in a bedroom by myself. My son at the hospital, and my husband down in Sedona. We only got to see eachother on the weekends, which put an incredible strain on our relationship. We managed to get through it, but we really had to keep in touch, both in person and on the phone. Corey would come up late on Saturdays after getting off at Elote, and stop by the NICU to hold Carrick and get some one-on-one time with him before coming to the house.

Meanwhile, I was learning how to breastfeed a preemie. There was a whole technique to it. I was really suprised to learn that the motion I saw him making with his mouth the day before the in-laws left was the rooting reflex. It's what babies do when they are looking for mommy to feed them. The nurses were also suprised because infants that young don't usually show signs of rooting until much later. After all, he should still be in utero, not on the outside nursing. I had a really good lactation consultant and a very patient nurse work with me to start the breastfeeding process after only a week after Carrick's birth. Because he was so tiny, he couldn't just start nursing. I had to pump my breasts first, so that he would not choke. He didn't have the swallowing reflex down yet, so if milk did come out, it would choke him. So we would do a dry nurse. Pumping first, then feeding him pumped milk with the syringe (throught the NG tube) while he "nursed". That way, he would get the idea that when he does the sucking motion, food goes into his tummy. After about a week of doing this, we started to see if he could get the suck/swallow/breathing thing down. He was such a pro at nursing. He did have problems with getting the nipple all the way into his mouth, so we had to use a nipple shield. It extends the length of the nipple to go back far enough into the infant's mouth for better latch during nursing.

It took a lot of patience. I remember thinking "All I want to do is lay down in a bed with Carrick and snuggle." I was so tired of feeding him in a chair. I wanted to be at home, in my own bed, watching and adoring my little angel. I was so over hearing the "bling-bling, bling-bling, bling-bling" of the monitors of all the babies around me. I was done with being under dim flourecent lights. I wanted to see my baby in the sunlight. I had no idea what color his hair really was, or his eyes. Everything looked unnatural in the semi-lit NICU. I was so over leaving my baby to go to the house to take naps. I had to remember to take care of myself too, like eating and sleeping. I didn't want to be one of those 'martyr moms' who holds up and spends every second in the NICU. I knew I would go insane if I didn't remember to care for myself. I would take an hour or so and even go shopping sometimes, just to gather my thoughts and not get overwhelmed.

Corey and I were also taught about kangaroo care as a NICU parents. The nurses told us that skin-to-skin contact with our premature son would help him in ways that just hoding with blankets could not. If he was to be held against my chest, he could not only share my warmth, but hear my hearbeat more clearly, smell me, and biochemically bond to me. This is something that ALL babies benefit from, so make sure to spend some time with them when they only have on a diaper. It is especially important for preemies to experience this. Because they are so young and vulnerable. Having a parent hold them in such an intimate way communicates to them that they are safe and allows them to be in a more relaxed state.

The second week in the NICU gave us a big suprise in addition to starting nursing. He was moved to an open bed! No longer was he in the isolet. It showed that he was moving along and improving each day. Only infants that meet certain requirements are moved into open beds. By doing so, they are more exposed to what's in the air, noise distractions, etc. However, this also showed that he was able to handle more as he was progressing in his development. No complications, no health issues. Thank goodness!

The third week in the NICU was Valentine's Day and my 27th birthday. Since V-day was on a Saturday, I decided to go down to Sedona and sit at the bar and watch Corey bartend, so at least I could see him on the special day. I spent the night down there with him, and we both drove back the next day. He took me out to a really fancy cottage-turned-resturaunt in Flagstaff called, suprise, The Cottage Place for my brithday. It was really memorable and for a few hours, I was able to forget that I had motherly duties. Carrick was in safe, capable hands at the hospital. I tried to not let myself feel guilty for giving myself a night out for Valentine's Day/Birthday. When we came back to the NICU after our fantastic dinner, there was a little heart ornament with Carrick's picture in it laying by his bed. It was our Valentine's Day gift 'from Carrick'. The ornament is still in his room to this day.

I also bought the first four books of Harry Potter at a used bookstore with birthday money. I read the entire Sorcerer's Stone book to him for the remainder of his stay in the NICU. The nurses would walk by and smile at my choice of literature. I figured I would read something that was entertaining to me, given my situation. The only thing that really mattered was that I was holding my son, and he was hearing my voice. Mommy and baby together, that's what was truly important. He needed me and I needed him. Taking it one day at a time, we managed to get through it all.

I remembered calling my would-be midwife shortly after Carrick's birth and telling her of my secret fear that I wouln't bond with my baby, given our situation. She told me that bonding is a choice. I can either choose to love my son and hold him, and be there for him, or not to. She was right. As long as I was able to take care of myself, I was able to take care of him (to the extent that being in a hopsital would allow). My sweet little baby, so tiny, yet so strong. I felt a deep, unconditional love for him that I had not known with any other human being. I was definitely a bonded mother. I just kept telling my son that I was proud of him and his progression. Together, we would get him out of there soon.

The Naming of the Child

2011-10-29T11:08:00.000-04:00

Corey and I hopped on to a baby name website and began our search for the title that would associate our son for the rest of his life. (Or at least until he got tired of it and called himself Snow or something.) I suggested that we look up the name that has the meaning of "Surprise!" or something similar. Because we did not know the sex of our son, he was a surprise. We didn't know we were pregnant, surprise! We didn't know I was in labor and...surprise!!! Everything about him was so shocking and unexpected, I wanted a name that reflected that. None existed, in any language, at least, not on this particular website of a million names from around the world.

So we moved on. We looked at different suggestions we had, Adam being one of them. One of the meanings associated with the Hebrew name Adam means, "Man, formed from the Earth." We also looked up Stephen, Phillip (a family name) and Peter. When we came to Peter, one of the meanings was, "Rock". Then next to it were other names from other languages that also meant "Rock". One of these was the Gaelic word for rock, Carrick.

"How about Carrick?" Corey asked. My husband is a little more than a quarter Irish, so it honored the family heritage as well as spoke of my son's solidness. Even though he had been born a preemie, he was quite a go-getter. He was actually crying when he came out. He kicked his umbilical line out twice, as though he didn't want it. So, something that sounded tough, solid, and here to stay was a good fit for my son. It takes a lot of effort to crack a rock, and my son wasn't giving up. He was already improving since they had received him last night. I thought Carrick might just be the name we give our son.

"I like that. Let's put that on the discussion table," I replied. I toyed with the spelling a little bit. Did I like it the way it was spelled on the website, or could I also spell it, Caerick? When I looked at it on the paper, I didn't really like it. So I went back to the original spelling.

After a few more names, we went back to Carrick. We took that name to the nurse when we visited our son together that night.

"We like the name Carrick, but we're not for sure that's what we want to name him," Corey told the nurse.
"Take your time. You're not locked into it. We'll go ahead and make up a name sign for over his isolet and you can see if you like it."

We spent a couple hours there, watching him sleep. Holding him for the 15 minutes we were allowed at that very tender, early stage in his life outside the womb. I pumped while I was there. Only made enough for him to get through the night. I would have to come back with more around 6 a.m.

So, at 6 in the morning, the next day, I took the free shuttle from the family house to the hospital. It was only across the street, but Flagstaff in late January at 6 a.m. is pretty darn cold. I took my little half-filled bottle of breast milk to the NICU. I was pondering the names we had come up with to see if we liked any of them better. As we arrived at the NICU door, a thought occurred to me. "If we name him Carrick Adam, his name would literally mean , 'Rock Man, formed from the Earth.'

As I sat in the glider, cradling my son in my arms, feeding him with a syringe, I looked at him and I remembered back to when I was pregnant. I used to take these walks that took me up a hill to the playground and school yard in our neighborhood. The vista of Sedona from there was unparalleled. You could see the craggy red rocks giving way to lush green desert shrubbery. It looked like Ireland with a southwest splash of red. Every time I took that walk as an expectant mother, I imagined a giant face of a baby shadowed against the rocks. Like the spirit of this child was created within these mystical ancient monuments. As I looked down into the sleeping face of my son, I knew that this was that child. He was my rock man. My rock child, coming out to me from the Earth. What a blessing he was, my little Carrick Adam.

My Worst Day Ever

2011-10-28T14:41:00.000-04:00

Corey and I had not been given any time during that first day after becoming parents to just sit down and take it all in. We were in a constant state of "GO GO GO GO GO!!!!" Gotta sign this paper, gotta meet with this person, gotta start pumping so he has breast milk instead of formula, gotta get food, gotta check in to the family house...one thing after another. After Corey left to go pick up our car an hour and a half away in Cottonwood, I met with the lactation consultant to get started on pumping. I was able to hold my son for his first "feeding" of breast milk. He was so small that he only took 4cc's of colostrum for that first feeding. We're talking less liquid than the size of your pinkie finger. I held the syringe in one hand and my baby in the other. The nurse had attached the syringe to his NG tube (nasal/gastral tube. It goes in through the nose and down the esophagus which drains into the stomach.) That wasn't really what I had in mind for the first time of giving breast milk to my baby. I had imagined my baby (being born full term, of course) laying across my belly after being born and nursing, looking up at mommy and snuggling in my own bed. Instead I was sitting in an uncomfortable chair (They got me a glider later), propped up from all sides with pillows. It was not quiet or peaceful because of all the beeps and blings going off every minute from the monitors all over the nursery. There was always some infant's monitor that needed attending to. The only thing that made me feel calm was the sensation of the warm, soft bundle in my arms that needed his mommy.

I had spoken to my midwife and doula earlier that day to let them know that they could come up to see me and the new baby if they wanted to. Thankfully they came just in time to take me across town so that I could get a Rogham shot. I can't remember why the hospital could not administer it. All I remember is the head nurse coming over to me after feeding my son and telling me that I absolutely had to get the shot today. He was an intimidating, tall, black man who was outraged that I had not received a Rogam shot before leaving the hospital the night before. I really wanted to lay into him and give him a piece of my mind. In all the chaos of the way my son was born, it just got overlooked. Besides, a woman has 72 hours to receive Rogam after a birth.

I am a negative blood type and my son was a positive blood type. That means that all subsequent pregnancies could be in danger. If a woman has a negative blood type and births a baby with positive blood, the woman can create antibodies that actually will destroy any more fetuses she produces. The body recognizes the fetus as something like a pathogen and will work to rid the body of it. Rogam helps to prevent this from happening. So that is why it was super important for me to get the shot.

The nurse in charge of my son's isolet had ordered me a tray from the cafeteria because I had been there all day with nothing to eat. It just wasn't on my radar. So, right as the food arrived was when I was told I had to leave urgently. I grabbed the plastic spoon and fork, the applesauce cup and the brownie off the tray and left. My midwife and doula were waiting outside in the car. I apologized for the urgency, and thanked them for giving me a ride across town. We discussed how I was feeling and how the baby was doing. They both reassured me that if I needed anything to call them. My doula made arrangements to give me a post-natal massage the following week. My midwife also made plans to come up and talk more deeply with me about what happened and, of course meet our new son.

I hopped out of the car and thanked them again for the ride before dashing into the medical clinic. They were going to close in 20 minutes, so time was of the essence.

So, there I was, leaning over an exam table with my pants dropped over on hip. Ping! In went the needle. It didn't hurt that much, the nurse was very gentle. It was mostly emotionally exhausting. It was like one more thing I HAD to do before I could sit and rest after being bombarded with new things all day long.

I had to get a taxi back to the family house. Corey had not made it back from Cottonwood yet. I had no cash on me, either. So before taking me to the house, we had to stop at an ATM. Thankfully one of my bank branches was just down the street from the clinic. I didn't want to talk to the woman driving. Some stranger, smoking a cigarette. I was glad to not have to recount the events of the past 24 hrs to her, grateful for the silence. I paid her and left the car, hungry, tired, worn out, beaten, and hormonal. Trudging back to the room, I made a pit stop in the community kitchen to make a bowl of ramen noodles. Laying down on the bed, I tried to take a nap, to allow my body to recuperate and process the enormity of what had happened. Just as I started feeling like sleep would be mine, Corey came into the room. "Come and see the new car," he said, with annoying energy. I really wanted to tell him where he could stick that car, but I held back. We needed to be a team now and unnecessary hurtful comments would not help us get through this.

I did go out to see the car, but only after expressing how thoroughly sleep-deprived I felt. There it was in the parking lot, a gray 2004 Prius. We made a little more substantial dinner and then retired to the room and crashed on the bed. Corey wasn't really able to sleep, so while I layed there, he looked up names for our preemie.

Meeting our Son

2011-10-05T17:52:00.005-04:00

I didn't shower that night. I just sat on the couch watching the Sound of Music. Corey had made a trip to Wal-Green's to get me a breast pump so I could start lactating. I didn't want to dry up because my baby wouldn't be nursing right away. He came back with a hand-held model (they didn't have an electric one in the store.) He went into the kitchen and began to boil the parts as prescribed in the instructions. As Julie Andrews was singing in her Abbey, I heard another sound coming from the kitchen. I looked behind me from the couch and saw steam rising from the boiling pot, with Corey's head in the middle of the heat. His hands were on the counter top and his head was bowed, shoulders shaking from his audible sobs. He was letting it all go. He had spent all day worrying, not having any control over anything that happened, just being an innocent bystander as his wife and baby went through a traumatic ordeal. All he could do was watch. And now, he was releasing, tears tumbling into the bubbling pot of breast pump parts. I felt for him, but there was nothing I could do. I just had to let him cry, to let it all out. No pat on the shoulder or hug would work, just silence and solitude.

The next morning, after sleep and breakfast, Corey and I headed up the canyon to Flagstaff to meet our new baby.

"What about Adam?" Corey asked in the car as we wound our way around twists and turns.

"Why Adam?" I asked, curious about his suggestion.

"Because when I was watching him get hooked up to all those tubes and IV's they told me to talk to him. So, since he didn't have a name, I just said, 'Hey, little man. You're doing great, little man.' Adam means 'man'."

"It's a thought. We'll put it on the table, how about that?" I replied. I wanted to do more research about the meaning of names before I decided on one. I wanted his name to reflect who he was, or his birth story somehow. We continued discussing names, but didn't decide on anything definite.

When we arrived in Flagstaff, we first checked into the family house across the street from the hospital. It was cheaper than any hotel, and it also provided a complimentary shuttle 24 hrs a day to and from the hospital. After that we needed to eat something. It had been a few hours since breakfast, and we knew that when we went to see our son, we didn't want to have to leave him to go get food. So we did grocery shopping for the house and ate lunch before FINALLY seeing our infant.

We made our way into the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) and found the door locked. We had to use a phone to call inside and tell them who we were so they could open up the door for us. I was glad to see that security was so tight. It wasn't like any Joe off the street could just come in and see our baby. They also made us wash our hands and use sanitizer as well as put on a face mask before going any further than the front desk. We were lead to the enclosed crib of our unnamed baby boy.

There he was, pink, tiny, and covered in wires. He had a tube going into his belly button, a wire taped to his toe, a nasal cannula for oxygen and a nasal/gastric (NG) tube running from his nose down to his tummy. On top of all that, he had goggles on to keep the ultraviolet light from his billiruben blanket from damaging his eyes.

My eyes saw him, but my brain didn't register, "this is your baby". It was just some kid. I was worried that I wouldn't be able to bond with him. The nurse was explaining what each of the wires and tubes did for our son, but I wasn't really listening. I was just trying to wrap my mind around what I was seeing.

Because he was sleeping, she didn't want to wake him up. But she did open up the "lid" to let us put our hands on him, each in turn. She said that firm, steady pressure was best for him during sleep. I let Corey be the first to touch him. Carefully, he laid both his hands on his son, practically covering up his whole body with both hands because he was so small. Then it was my turn. I touched my baby for the first time. Nothing. No maternal instinct kicking in, no magic, no flutters in my tummy, just a very detached feeling. Mostly I was taken by how tiny this little human was.

While we were "meeting" our son, the hospital had called the social worker to come meet with us. As it was the 29th and all applications for state aide had to be in by the end of the month, time was of the essence. We were called away from our son to meet with this woman in the NICU waiting room. She told us all about all the paperwork we had to fill out and gather up to apply for state aide. It's a good thing that we made the deadline. By the time our baby was released, we would have accrued over $250,000.00 in hospital bills. The helicopter ride from Cottonwood to Flagstaff alone cost $17,000.00.

After we met with the social worker, Corey had to leave me by myself in Flagstaff. The call came in that our loan was processed and we could come pick up our "new" car in Cottonwood. I'm not quite sure why it couldn't wait until the next day, but Corey decided to go back down to Cottonwood and pick up our car. That left me alone in Flagstaff with no transportation except the shuttle to the family house.

Our son did wake up before Corey left, so that meant that he got to hold him. Then it was my turn. I was told that we could only hold him a few times a day because the stress of transferring him from crib to arms was very taxing on his still developing body. As I sat in the chair, holding my son for the first time, I felt him move. And then it clicked. I knew that movement. That was the same movement I felt inside my uterus when he was in there. This was my baby, Hallelujah!

Home, and No Baby

2011-06-11T19:53:00.003-04:00

We stopped for R&R Pizza in Cottonwood before returning to Sedona for the night. The NICU in Flagstaff told us that the place we were staying closed its front office at 6pm and we were leaving town around 5:30. We'd never make it up the canyon to Flag in time. The nurse I spoke to told us also that our son had arrived safely and was fast asleep in his bed. It made me feel better that he wasn't hysterically crying because his mommy wasn't there. I felt somewhat guilty that we were not planning to go up to see him that night, but we were both exhausted, physically and mentally, and we all needed a good night's sleep. We made plans to go up to Flag first thing in the morning to check in to our family house, see our son, and make financial arrangements with the state.

I wanted R&R pizza because it is the best pizza in Cottonwood, and Corey said he would treat me to anything I wanted. I remembered being on the phone with my dad on the way there and nonchalantly telling him we were on our way to pick up our pizza. He was amused that we were getting carry-out pizza after just having a baby. His slight chuckle was perhaps the only bit of laughter I had heard that day. The entire day had been spent in a state of worry, not knowing what was going on or what to do about it. Then, once we did know, it turned into worry about whether or not we'd make it to the hospital. After that, the worry transferred itself to my son, and whether or not he would have any complications with his health due to his premature birth.

Looking back on the birth, Corey and I recounted our individual experiences on the way home. Corey had told me about his encounters with the medical team as they hooked our newborn up to the various monitors and IVs. He told me about how our son had kicked out his first umbilical IV with his foot. It was as if he didn't want it there and was telling them so. He seemed a determined little soul, not to be messed with. I told him how my mother thought we had gone in for an ultrasound to see if the baby was ok, and how she freaked out when I told her we had had our baby. I also told him how Dillon (Niccole's husband) had called to tell us he was at our house with the hoses we wanted for the water birth. I told him we had our baby and that it was a boy and how shocked he was. I shared with Corey how great I felt after having gave birth and what a treat it was to have hormones so strong that I didn't care that my baby was early, but rather satisfied knowing that he's asleep somewhere. I was just too happy that we made it to the hospital in time and I knew that if we could reach the hospital before he was born, that the medical team would know exactly what to do. I trusted them and knew they would take good care of my baby. That's what they are there for, obstetric emergencies. This was clearly an obstetric emergency.

When we arrived at our condo, three pizza slices later, I slowly walked around the downstairs. There was still a puddle of amniotic fluid in the bathroom where my water had broke. There was still a trash can with sick in it from when I went into transition (hard labor). Corey obliged by putting it outside for us to deal with later, we just didn't have it in us to clean that one up yet. I went upstairs to change into some jammies. It occurred to me that I should start pumping my breasts so that I wouldn't loose the ability to nurse since it would be tomorrow before I could do any nursing. Corey was such a sweetheart and dutifully went to Walgreens' to buy a breast pump.

I was flabbergasted at the price when he told me how much it cost. It seemed silly for a small little bicycle horn with a bottle attached to it. We put in The Sound of Music and Corey took care of boiling the parts to the hand pump in the kitchen. I remember looking in on him from the couch after the water started to bubble. I was standing there, his face in the updraft of steam from the pan, sobbing, almost wailing, uncontrollably. He had spent his entire day as an observer. He could not step in and do anything for me or for the baby. It was all up to other people, and all he could do was watch. It was my chance to watch now, and wittiness the hard exterior he had to wear all day melt into the boiling pot of water. It made me cry too, watching and listening to his sobs. It felt strange. We were at home, my belly was soft and unfilled. We were in our home, but we had no baby. It was almost as if it had never happened. I had never been pregnant, I had never given birth. I will never forget how empty and strange that felt.

The Aftermath and the Afterbirth

2011-06-09T21:40:00.003-04:00

My tiny little baby came out, two months to the day too early. He was taken away as soon as the umbilical cord was cut. Corey went with him. He needed his daddy more than I needed Corey's support. Cathy stayed with me. I was in la-la land from all the hormones. Even so, I still had my head about me enough to yell at the doctor, "Don't Pull The CORD!!!!" I shouted at him as he was attempting to help me birth the placenta.

"I'm not pulling on it, I'm guiding it."

"Don't Pull..." I warned. I remembered hearing how pulling on the umbilical cord could tear the placenta off the uterus too quickly, and leave pieces of it stuck to the uterine wall. This causes tremendous complications later on, and I was not about to have some idiot doctor ruin my uterus.

A nurse came to me and told me she was going to give me a shot of patocin to help deliver the placenta. I agreed, thinking that now that the baby is out, there's not a lot they can do to me to hurt the baby. I received a shot in my leg. I can't remember it hurting all that much. I had just passed a child, so a small little shot was laughable almost.

Shots I can handle, but IVs are another story. I have never in my life been hooked up to one and quite frankly, they scare the living shit out of me. So, when some young nurse came up to me with the fixings of an IV I lost my nerve at her. "You will not touch me with that unless it is absolutely necessary, do you understand me?"

Corey had just come back into the room for a moment, and overheard what I had said. He added to it, "We're talking lawsuits here." The poor little girl turned right around and left the room.

In the two hours waiting for my son to be ready to leave the hospital, my midwife showed up, my doula, as well as a social worker to discuss financial arrangements. She asked me if there was anything I needed and I told her all I wanted was some chocolate. She managed to procure a few Hershey's kisses for me. My midwife came in looking stunned. She and I recounted everything we had done and could not come up with a reasonable explanation as to why my son came so early or so suddenly.

At some point, the tall, slender nurse who gave me my patocin shot asked me if I could go to the restroom. She helped me off the bed and into the bathroom. She gave me a wonderful little squirt bottle to use on my tender area post birth instead of using toilet paper. The warm water was sooooo comforting. After getting back on the bed, she asked me if I wanted my placenta. I was so shocked. I was under the impression that I would have to fight to get my son's placenta to take home with us. We wanted to bury it under a tree, using an ancient Celtic tradition. I had heard that taking bio hazardous material out of a hospital is illegal, and was so happy to hear that I didn't have to make a fuss to get what I wanted.

Two and a half hours after giving birth, Corey came into the room with a cart being pushed by two paramedic-looking people. On the cart was a large plastic box. Inside the box lay my son, sleeping, quiet, peaceful. He had a tube coming out of where his belly-button would be, tubes in his nose, and IV in his foot and several other miscellaneous wires for monitors attached to him.

"We are going to fly him to the NICU in Flagstaff via helicopter. Is there anything you'd like to say to him?"

For the life of me, I can't remember my first words to my son. They were hollow, whatever they were, like, "hang in there" or "we love you", but they really had no meaning behind them. I didn't even know this person. He had been a mystery. We didn't know his sex, we didn't know his actual due date because we didn't know when we actually conceived him, he was a total stranger. Just some kid in a box. I didn't really feel anything, just a sort of numb acceptance.

I did, however remember being concerned that his ears would be affected by the loudness of the helicopter and I managed to articulate this to the medical team wheeling his cart. "Not to worry," they told me, "this is soundproof plexiglass." I felt a sigh of relief, knowing my poor little baby early, and abandoned by his mother wouldn't wake up just because he was in a loud helicopter.

The staff gave me instructions for checking in at a family house in Flagstaff for those with relatives in the hospital. I also received the number for the NICU to call and check on my son at anytime. They wheeled him away and those remaining in the room made ready to finally go home.

By that time, Cathy's husband and daughter had arrived at the hospital. Katie, my would-be doula was also still there. Corey carried my purse, Kaite followed behind me, pushed by a nurse in a wheelchair, Cathy held her daughter's hand and her husband brought up the rear of the procession bearing the tray wrapped in a plastic holding the placenta.

We left the hospital, Corey and me, in our old Buick, and finished up calling those who would like to know how it went and what happened to us and the baby.

2011-05-09T11:37:00.002-04:00

It was approaching 3 in the afternoon, and Corey would be getting ready for work soon. However, that thought didn't even enter my mind. All I kept thinking was, "I could see feeling like this if I were in labor, but the baby's not coming for another 8 weeks. What's wrong with me?" I asked Corey to draw up another bath for me. This time I wanted it in the downstairs bathtub because I was unsure of my abilities to walk up the stairs to the master bath. He drew me up a wonderfully warm and comforting bath. I got in and laid there. Ahhh, peace, at last! Well...at least for the fist few minutes. Then the wave of discomfort washed over me anew and I was feeling worse than when I got in the tub.

I started breathing very fast and crying. I was so upset. I still couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. My whole pregnancy had been rainbows and sunshine, no vomitting, hardly any constipation, no problems with my baby...Yet here I was, cowering before my body, unable to explain how I felt besides "Yucky!!!"

My breathing became more shallow and quicker. My neck was bent against the back of the tub as I tried to submerge as much of my belly in the water as possible. Corey came in and saw me hyperventilating and crammed into the tub. "Honey," he said carefully, "you need to get out. You're not getting enough oxygen. It's not good for you or the baby." Then I burst out in tears and told him what I'd been thinking. "I could see how I could feel this yucky during labor, but the baby's not due for another 8 weeks!" I cried at him uncontrollably. He helped me out of the tub and gave me a towel. He left me alone, and I sat on the toilet, waiting for something to happen.

He came back in to check on me. " How are you feeling?"

"I feel like I am back in high school and it's the first day of my moon. Every month I would feel awful, then puke, sleep and wake up like nothing had happened. I just want to puke and pass out. I want to wake up and have this all go away. That's how I feel."

He left the bathroom again. I turned around to straddle the toilet seat, resting my arms on the back of the tank and laying my head down, just like with the exercise ball. *This was one of the warning signs Sunny told the dads to look out for during labor, straddling the toilet seat. I was unconsciously trying to get comfortable and her class was far out of my mind. I just did what felt natural.* Corey came back in to check on me and saw my positioning. He began to worry.

Then, I turned back around on the toilet and wiped with some toilet paper. I looked down to see a bloody wad. I was stunned, yet in denial. Even though Maryn had mentioned blood, I didn't believe what I was seeing. All of a sudden, I grabbed the trash can and.....Out came the mac'n'cheese. "Call Maryn!" I garbled. "I just puked and that's not normal for me!" If there was one thing I knew, it was keep track of the abnormal stuff and let the midwife know ASAP. Since puking had not been a part of my pregnancy thus far, it was indeed out of the normal for me.

I could hear Corey in the living room getting on the phone with Maryn. It was only a vague noise in the background. At that point, I was completely in my body with no heed to the outside world. I went on instinct alone. I dropped down to the floor on my hands and knees (still naked from my bath, mind you) and began shaking my head back and forth as it hung down to the floor. Sobbing, and scared at what was happening, I began the chant that alerts the papa to tell the woman "yes, you can." I was crying out, "I can't do this....I can't do this....I can't do this..." in a shakey and terrified voice. Again, without any reference to Sunny's class in my conscious mind, those were the words that instinctively came out, "I can't do this." I started feeling a pressure down there. A pressure unlike anything I had ever felt before. It felt large, and heavy, and rhythmic. I felt like I was pooping, only it was coming out of the wrong hole. Corey came in with the phone up to his ear. He was stunned at what he was witnessing. Maryn heard me over the phone, chanting "I can't do this" and gave him immediate instructions. "Get her to the Cottonwood hospital NOW!"

He hung up and told me to put my pants on. "We're going to the hospital now."

"But I can't," I protested, not really realizing what was going on. I just knew I had to say no, as if that would stop everything and I'd go back to normal.

"You have to. Maryn said so," he replied. Oh! That's different. If Maryn said so, I had better do it.

"Okay," I sobbed, reluctantly. Corey told me he was going to get a robe from upstairs and I was to put on my pants. I crawled to my ugly, gray, Hanes Her Way sweat pants, which I had bought extra big for pregnancy, and tried to get to my feet. As I stood up, I felt an uncontrollable warming sensation down my legs. I looked down and saw a clear puddle of something. That was it. I had all three signs that Maryn told me to look out for; blood, a gush and rythmic cramping.

Corey returned with his bathrobe and handed it to me. I put it on and stepped outside the bathroom. I collapsed. Something had pulled me over. I looked up at the golden face of a Buddha statue Corey had bought me for Christmas. (We're not Buddhists, but we like the artwork of the statue.) I was kneeling at the coffee table at the entrance of our home. Seeing the face of the Buddha somehow made it clear what was going on. I had just had my first contraction. I stood up and waddled to the car before I had my next one.

Corey opened up the door to the back seat of our old Buick. I looked around at the state of our backseat and was surprised at how messy it was. We never sat back there. We mostly just used it as a catch-all for things we didn't want in the front seat. Old newspapers, clothes, apple cores, just a very untidy hodgepodge of junk. But there, in the middle of that junk was my golden ticket, a memory foam contour pillow from IKEA. I grabbed the pillow and out it under my belly as I climbed in. It felt sooo good under my belly. I buried my face in the garbage on the seat and decided to calm down and go with the flow. I opened my eyes to see what my face was pressed against as I crouched across the backseat, knees folded under me, belly down on the pillow. It had a half-full bottle of Mountain Ice water and an empty Pennzoil bottle for company during labor.

We were in the car and speeding off toward Cottonwood. Hopefully the baby would stay in long enough for us to get there.

And Here it comes....

2011-05-08T18:35:00.000-04:00

As I was rushed out of Sedona towards Cottonwood, my brain finally caught up with my body. "Okay, Rach, you're having the Fergasun's Reflex. The baby will stretch you out and receed." Sure enough, every two minutes or so, I would feel the baby give a wiggle, then I knew another contraction was coming. I anticipated it, and then, would feel the head of the baby rotate as it bore down, threatening to push its way out with each progressive contraction. I would let out a prolonged, "Huuuhhhhh" and get my tone as deep as possible. The deeper my voice, the more relaxed my body would be. If I started out in a higher pitched vocalization at the begining of the contraction, I would immediatly bring it down. "HUH-uhhh," like that.

Knowing what my baby and my body were doing gave me confidence. I was resolute that I would be successful in delivering this baby. I remembered my promise I had made to myself after hearing it in Sunny's class. I promised myself that when the time came, I would not push at all and that I would just let my uterus get the baby out. All I had to do was breath. The lower-pitched guttoral sounds I was making helped me keep that promise. It allowed for me to breath more evenly and keep my head about me. I felt like I had enough oxygen and that I knew what I was doing.

At the city limits of Sedona, there is a 7% downhill grade. I don't know how many of you have been in labor going 85 mph down that steep of a hill, but let me tell you, I will never forget the pull of gravity on my enormous body at that moment. The speed, the incline, the contraction...it was almost overwhelming. That just happened to be the worst part of the whole event. It was literally all downhill from there.

Corey started calling everyone we could think of after getting around the curves and down the steep part of the incline. Once we leveled out, I told him to call my doula, Katie. She didn't answer her phone. Maryn couldn't meet us at the hospital because she was in Prescott. "Cathy!!!" I shouted excitedly from the backseat. "Call Cathy!" Thankfully, he got a hold of her and she said she'd meet us at the hospital. He called in to work to tell them he wouldn't be in. Then we called out parents. I wanted them to start the prayer chain at each of their churches. He called my mom and I don't think she quite understood. He made it sound as though he wasn't sure whether or not the baby was coming. She was under the impression that we were going for an ultrasound.

We finally made it to the Cottonwood Medical Center. Corey left me in the back seat while he ran into the ER. I tried to get out after him, but the child safety lock was on and I couldn't open the door. I felt like a made tiger caught in a cage. I was pacing back and forth trying the door on the other side, then back again, unaware of what I was doing. I couldn't believe he had left me in the car.

The Actual Birth

2011-05-07T10:44:00.004-04:00

January 27th, 2009: I was in the bathtub emjoying the afternoon sunlight, when I noticed something odd. I was washing my chest and put a little bit of pressure on my breast. As I did so, and a small bit of clear, gooey liquid came out. How strange, I thought. Then I realized what it was. I actually called Corey at work to tell him, "I got milk." Lactation? At 31 1/2 weeks? I dismissed it as a part of the third trimester. I later enjoyed a spaghetti dinner which was joined by a pack of javelinas, just outside on the patio. That was the first time they visited us at our home.

On the morning of January 28th, 2009, the first thing Corey and I did was have intercourse. I was enormous at that point and it was very awkward. We ended up in a position that we rarely use, but it worked because it didn't smash my big belly. Afterwards, I felt very uncomfortable. I blamed the odd positioning. I was on the toilet afterwards and I yelled out at Corey in the bedroom, "We're not doing this again for a long time." ( I should have been more careful with my words.) He asked me why and I told him that I "felt like crap."

I returned to the bed for my daily parineum massage. This was probably my least favorite thing about preparing for birth. I didn't really want Corey down there massaging my opening, but it was for a good cause, I did not want to tear or have someone cut me for an episiotomy. I just had to be a big girl about it and relax. I felt so icky after having sex. Why? I felt as though I was going to start my moon, a strange feeling considering I was pregnant and had not had a moon since last May. I took a hot bath thinking that would relieve my tension. It did, but only temporarily.

I laid in the bathtub for a long while. Corey and I both happened to have a day off from the massage school, so we had the luxury of hanging out at home all day. Corey didn't have to go into work at Elote until 3 that afternoon, so we had plenty of time to wait for the word on our car loan.

Meanwhile, Corey pulled out a file box and turned our living room into an office. He was intently sorting papers into two very untidy piles, "keep" and "toss". I descended the stairs after my bath wearing my robe and pajama pants. I sat on the couch and moaned. "What's wrong?" Corey asked.

"Nothing. I just feel so....gross....like I am on my cycle or something. Uh! Having sex sucks!!!" He put in The Two Towers, Director's Cut, and I sat there, watching Gollum scramble around the screen. He made some mac'n'cheese after a little while, but I really didn't feel hungry. I had skipped breakfast because I felt so yucky, so a late morning snack was a little bit welcome. I only could get a few bites down. I grabbed my exercise ball and took it over to the dining room table. I sat on it and folded my arms on the table, laying my head in them. I bounced around for some time and it really helped me feel better.

I expressed my concern about getting an ultrasound to Corey after getting off the ball. He said he'd be able to come with me next week on Monday because Elote was closed that day. I sat down in the dining room with my back against the wall and was quiet. I placed my hands on my baby belly and waited. The midwife said if I can feel 10 movements in an hour, then that is considered normal. I waited....one..........two..............three movements. It took a while, perhaps ten minutes or so. Odd. Ever since that dance at massage school, the baby had not been as rambunctious as it had been in previous weeks. Usually I could count ten movements in one minute. I would feel it launch off of one side of my belly and hit on the other side. But today, and ever since the dance, the movements were more like a shifting, or a wiggling, as if it were in place, but just adjusting itself. None the less, I did count ten movements and that satisfied me. My baby was moving. It was alive and going, and that's alllll I cared about.

After feeling a sense of relief with the movement of my baby, I went upstairs to get a load of dirty laundry. I brought the hamper downstairs and bent over to grab some dirty clothes out of it. As I came up and turned to put the clothes in the washer, I felt a warm sensation in my undies. "Did I just pee myself?" I wondered? Was I that pregnant that I had lost feeling in my bladder? My bladder didn't feel full, certainly not full enough to leak. I called Maryn. I didn't care if she was still on maternity leave, I needed some reassurance.

"I'm over the hill in Prescott, otherwise I'd come over and check you out," she told me. "Did you get a gush?" she asked me.

"No. Just a small trickle. It very well could have been pee," I responded.

"Well, if you get a gush, or blood of any sort, or rythmic cramping, call me immediately. If you don't get any of those three things, you're going to be just fine. Just take it easy and try to relax and keep calm. We'll meet up next week for a prenatal anyway."

"Okay," I told Corey, "Maryn said if I get blood, or a gush of any sort or rythmic cramping we should call her. That's the official word." However, the part about keeping calm, I wasn't so sure about. I started the laundry load and returned to the couch. Then, I started panicking....

"What if the hoses don't fit on the faucets when we have the baby? The faucets are all covered with mineral buildup. I don't even know if the upstairs faucets have the screw-on attachment to fit a hose up to them. What if we need to run hoses from the kitchen up to the bathroom? Do we have long enough hoses?" I was full-on freaking out about the supplies for having a water birth at home. Why? The baby wasn't coming for another 8 weeks.

Something was definitely up.

Corey, being a supportive husband didn't even question me. He went upstairs and I heard a very loud BANG BANG BANG! He was whacking the mineral buildup off of the bathtub spout. He had also called our friend who had just had a water birth to see if we could borrow their hoses to measure the length. He said he would drop the hoses off later that day on his way to work.

Meanwhile, I was crawling around on the floor trying to feel better, but feeling worse by the minute.

My Perfect Birth

2011-05-07T10:06:00.002-04:00

As I stated in my first entry of this birth story segment, back in March, a wise lady once said, "Every birth is perfect because it brings a human life into this world."After going through two trimesters of pregnancy myself, I had my own perfect birth allll planned out (you know, because we have total control over what we really want, right?) In my last trimester, I wanted to have prenancy pictres taken as well as have a blessing way and a baby shower. I had asked our friend whom Corey told first (Cathy) if she would mind taking nude pictures of me a Corey. I wanted them black and white, not revealing anything, just celebrating my very pregnant body and our figures together. More classy than sexual. She had done nude photos in college and we were very comfortable with her as our photographer. I had also debated about whether or not to have her at the birth to photgraph it. I still wasn't sure I wanted the extra person at the birth, but I figured that in the ten weeks I had left, I could make up my mind.

I also wanted to have a Blessing Way. This is a tradition that Katie, my doula told me about. It's for women only. The pregnant woman kind of makes up her own Blessing Way, so each one is different. The basic idea is that the women get together to bless the new baby before it's born and to give the mother some token to use during labor. The jist of it is that the tokens given are used as a reminder to the mother during labor of her own feminine power, that she is in control of her birth, no matter what happens, and that her body will do what is necessary. Some women have the attendees bring a bead each. Then they sit in a circle and as a string is passed around, they each put their bead on the string, blessing the mother and child, saying words of encouragement. Then the mother wears the necklace during the birth and is reminded of all the wonderful things her girlfriends said to her and it gives her the strength to keep going. I wanted everyone to bring a plant of some sort. I wanted to give birth in the middle of the woods right in my own home. So I wanted to set the plants up and make like a birth sanctuary in my bathroom.

The third thing I wanted to have happen before giving brith was of course, to have a baby shower. As first time parents, we did not want to wait until the baby arrived to get all the necessary items.

So, I had three things I wanted to experience before becoming a mother. I also had a very clear picture of what I wanted my birth to be like. It was part of an exercise my midwife had given me as "homework" in my second trimiester. She asked me to write up a birth plan. (I also took it a step further and drew a picture of what I wanted my birth to look like.) My birth plan was to have Shell, Maryn, Katie, Corey (and possibly Cathy) at my birth. The supervising midwife, the person who worked with me during pregnancy, a doula, a photographer, and myself. I wanted to have a pool of water set up in our bathroom. I wanted the four palm trees we had as house plants to be set up in and around the bathtub (as well as all the other plants from the Blessing Way.) I wanted my midwife to be the one to do as much of the medical stuff as possible, and if necessary, Shell could step in. I wanted Katie to make sure that Corey was fed and never left my side. I also wanted her around to so intermittent massage if necessary during the "hard" labor. I had a list of things I wanted to do during the last stage of labor, take a hot shower, listen to a preapproved list of music, and sit on an exercise ball with my arms on the countertop to name a few. When it came time for the baby to be born, I wanted Maryn to assist Corey in catching the baby.

Under no circumstances did I want any kind of drugs used during labor. I did not want any foreceps used either. ( I didn't know if midwives used those horrible contraptions, but I wanted to be clear, just in case.) I also made it abundantly clear that if I had to be transferred to a hospital for any reason, I absolutely refuse to let the doctor perform a C-section. I wanted my midwife, doula, and husband to be totally informed about this descision, as it was my greatest fear still lingering around my birth.

Once the baby was born, I did not want the umbilical cord cut. I wanted it the placenta cured and placed in a bag so that we could do a lotus birth. I wanted the cord to fall off naturally when the baby was ready. I also wanted the baby to be placed on my belly, skin to skin, and start it nursing right away.

That was my perfect birth, all planned out, and ready to go. Now I just needed to wait and be pateint while the baby finished its growing for ten more weeks.

Another week went by, I was at nine weeks left and was still worrying about the safety of my baby. I had danced pretty hard at massage school one day, and the baby had been quiet ever since that. Had I overtaxed my body? Did I harm the baby somehow by doing too much too fast? I decided that another ultrasound was necessary for me to feel better for the remainder of my pregnancy. I was going to make an appointment on that Monday, after begining my 31st week of pregnancy. However, I got distracted. I took our car in for an oil change and was told that we needed something repaired on our old 1995 Buick that would be more than the car was worth. So, Corey told me to go car hunting that afternoon. The next day, I showed him the cars I had found at the various dealerships. We test drove a 2004 Prius and loved it. We signed the papers and applied for a credit union loan at 5%! We had to wait a day for them to process the paperwork because it was at the close of the day when we applied for it. That brought us to Wednesday, January 28th, 2009. Corey and I were just sitting around, waiting for the news that our loan application was accepted so that we could go pick up our new car....

Strange Things Happening...

2011-04-30T18:27:00.002-04:00

One by one, the women in the childbirth class began having their babies. The first one to give birth did so on New Year's Day 2009. When the rest of us in the class heard the story of her birth, we were shocked. She delivered her baby at home in a blow up tub of water. It was her third home birth, and I believe it was her second water birth. She and her husband planned to not cut the umbilical cord too. This is known as a Lotus Birth. In a Lotus Birth, the cord is left in tact. A special bag is made so that the placenta can be carried around with the baby until the baby gets rid of the cord on its own. The idea behind this is that the child is choosing to be a part of this world after leaving its familiar world of the womb. Lotus birth is practiced in a variety of cultures all over the world and poses no threat to the mother or child. When it's all said and done, it's better to let the umbilical cord stop pulsing completely before cutting it. This gives the child all the last bit of antibiotics, nutrients and blood it needs to stay healthy during its first few weeks. The Lotus Birth just takes that a step further and lets the umbilical cord fall off naturally. It's just like having the cord stump except there's a placenta attached to it.

Anyway, this woman did not get to do her Lotus birth as planned. Her baby needed resuscitation from the midwife and as a precaution, the midwife called 911. The baby was just fine and breathing normally on its own when the paramedics arrived. They kind of bullied the midwife and mama into letting them take the baby to the nearest hospital. And, since it was a matter of the baby breathing, they decided that the baby needed to be air-lifted to Flagstaff. Mind you, the baby was breathing perfectly when they told her this. They said, "Do you want to be responsible if anything happens to the child?" So, as a precaution, they allowed the baby to be air-lifted. So, instead of a peaceful time at home, with its umbilical cord still attached, the baby was with its mom in a helicopter for no good reason. They ended up having to pay for it too. When they took the baby to the doctor at the hospital, the doctor looked at him and said, "Why is this child here?"

This story freaked Corey out. He was beside himself with worry. "What if that happens to us?" he asked me one day. " We won't be able to afford that!" I reassured him that he would not have to pay for an air-vac because it just won't happen. That was a freak thing that happened. The chances of us having a similar situation was so slim I told him to put it out of his mind.

Meanwhile...My midwife was on maternity leave and I had to go down to Phoenix to see her supervising midwife for a month or so for my prenatal visits. I went to one the week after the exciting news of the helicopter birth. The midwife told me that my baby was in "perfect position" to be born. She hoped that the baby would stay that way until time to deliver, some two-plus months away.

Also in early January, the second of the babies from the childbirth class was born. She had been receiving pregnancy massage from Katie as well and only had 6 hours of labor. She also gave birth at home in a pool of water, only this was her very first child. She was brave and calm, working with her body. Everything went well for her until the very end. She just wanted to get the baby out so badly, that she gave a push and as her son came out, she tore. She had actually done the massage of the perineum, but only had her husband massage the area close to the anus. She ended up tearing up the front, instead of downward. She had stitches and was fine. However, after hearing that story, I was determined that Corey would so the massage right and cover all the bases, front and back, up and down. I was so scared to tear.

A few more weeks passed and I was due for another prenatal visit. I was in my third trimester and starting to get pretty big. I was also still involved at the massage school as a teacher trainer. One day in mid January, I went to the bathroom and when I came back, one of the students asked me if I'd had my baby. I laughed. "What do you mean?" I asked her.
"Oh, nothing. When you came back into the classroom, the light hit you just right so that you didn't look pregnant. I knew you did have your baby in the bathroom..." It was kinda funny and I just shrugged it off.

The very next day, I was leaving the massage school when a prospective student I was friends with came in. His wife was expecting their third child and we actually had the same due date. He asked me, "Still pregnant?" I almost choked on my water. "What? Of course I'm still pregnant. I'm not due until late March. Why do you ask?"
"Because Jessica has been put on bed rest and some medications to keep the baby in. She was starting premature labor last week. Just wondering how you were doing." Strange....wierd....okay....

The last straw happened the next day (Saturday) at work. After clocking out for the night, my boss asked to have a word with me. He said, "How's your health?"
"Fine. I feel great."
"No, goofy, I mean how are you doing with hostessing and expecting?"
"I feel awesome. No problems. I plan to work through February then take off in March before the baby is born."
"Good. Glad to hear it. If you need anything, let me know."

"How's your health? Are you still pregnant? Did you just have your baby? What is up with the universe?" I thought. "The baby hasn't been moving around as much. It still wiggles, but not like it used to, and not as frequently. Maybe I should schedule another ultrasound." I decided that the on Monday I was going to call to make another appointment to make sure the baby was okay. I didn't feel right about something and I wanted to make sure my baby was not in trouble.

Sunny

2011-04-26T19:05:00.002-04:00

If Olga Morris's Pregnancy Massage Certification class put a close to my fear of pregnancy, Sunny Lee Savage's Childbirth classes gave me the confidence to follow through. Corey and I decided to move out of our one bedroom apartment at the end of our six month lease in October of 2008. One week later, we found ourselves in our new living room with four other pregnant women and their birth partners. We hosted childbirth classes set up by Maryn and taught by her very good friend from Flagstaff, Sunny. Sunny was a mother of two daughters, her second had just been born in August of that year and accompanied her to all of the gatherings. Sunny wore her hair in dred-locks that came just to her shoulders and usually had a bandanna tied around them. She was also a raw vegan. So, her knowledge of nutrition and a natural lifestyle gave her the air of being like a Mother Earth type person.

It was through the information that I learned during our six week session with Sunny that formed the basis for my confidence when it actually came time to give birth. The following are the highlights that helped the most:

#1- Perineal massage. This might sound gross to most of you, but there is a technique of massage (don't worry, no therapist will ever do this for you, it has to be done by your birth partner) that stretches the area around the vagina. The woman lays on her back and the partner uses the index and middle fingers ( with olive oil) to massage the area. You start by massaging in tiny circles all around the opening. After the area is warmed up, use the fingers to gently press downward toward the anus. You can also gently press upwards too. Hook the fingers just inside the opening to get the best stretch. Now, if you're squeamish, don't try it. However, by doing this practice in your last trimester, you can actually avoid an episiotomy (when the doctor decides to cut your vaginal opening with scissors.) The reason that it's better not to have the doctor cut you is because they decided where and how far to cut you. If you do the stretches, you either won't tear at all, or if you do, it will be smaller and in the area of least resistance. It's better for the body to decide how much to tear than for someone else. They may cut you so that you need 5 stitches, but if you let your body do the tearing on its own, you may only need one or two.

#2- Ferguson's Reflex. This amazing feedback loop is the heart of labor. The female's body and the baby work in sync to contract the uterus, move the baby, stretch out the cervix and return to normal. There is a chemical released that begins the entire process. The uterus pushes down on the baby from the top. The baby spirals down into the cervical opening, stretching it out with its head. Then, the body decides it's stretched out enough and sends another chemical to the uterus to let up so that the baby's head can pull back out of the cervical opening. Each time this loop happens, the baby stretches out the cervical opening a little bit more, thus reducing the potential for tearing. When women are induced, sometimes the patocin acts so strongly that the labor can get rushed. By not allowing for the baby's head to stretch out the cervical opening properly, the chances for tearing are greatly increased.

#3- The Uterus can do it all by itself. Did you know that the strongest muscle in the female body (the uterus) comes fully equipped to push the baby out all on its own? If the woman just breaths with her contractions, Ms. Uterus will do the rest? Hard to believe, I know. In essence, holding your breath to push just deprives your body of oxygen. Keeping your breath in a low, guttural moan is the better than bearing down and not breathing. In fact, the lower you can drop your voice while birthing, the less tense your muscles (including your uterus) will be, thus aiding in the delivery of your baby.

#4- "I can't do it". Sunny told us that in many of the births she had witnessed, the mother would invariable say, "I can't do this". The woman would say this right before the baby would come. She told the papas in the room that those words are their cue to say, "Yes, you can, and the baby is almost here."

Among other things, these were the four most important lessons I learned from Sunny during my first foray into childbirth education. I plan to take her class again during pregnancy #2. During that time, I will give more detailed accounts of what I learn so I can better share the knowledge with you. However, coming very soon, I will be sharing the actual account of Carrick's birth and how the four key lessons mentioned in this segment came into play that day.

The Ups and Downs of Pregnancy

2011-04-08T14:04:00.004-04:00

I thoroughly enjoyed being pregnant after reality finally sunk in and I had a birth team in place. I made birth art (drawings of my perception of my body, pictures of what I wanted the birth to look like), I practiced yoga before bed each night, I took walks, ate healthy food (and kept a food journal so my midwife could look over it and give feedback). Life was amazing as I carried my mysterious child. This child was somewhat of an enigma to us because we really did not know when we actually conceived it. (It was not until the birth that I actually counted backwards to figure out the exact date.) We also were waiting until the birth to find out the sex. I wanted it to be a surprise. So, in every way, this child remained a mystery to us. Not knowing the sex of the baby was actually the hardest thing for strangers I encountered to understand. I worked as the weekend hostess at Elote during pregnancy. After I started showing, people waiting to eat would strike up a conversation with me. "So, when are you due?" they would ask. "Late March," I would reply. "Do you know what you're having?" would invariably be the next question. "Well, according to the ultrasound, we're having a human being." Yes, I really did say that. "No, I mean like are you having a boy or a girl." "Ooh! You mean what's the sex of the baby." "Yeah." "We're going to be surprised. We don't want to know the sex of the baby until it's born." Now, this was the concept that people failed to wrap their brains around. I can't begin to tell you how many people were bent on ruining the surprise. It was almost as if I had said, "we haven't found out yet, but since I'm sure you've been blessed with X-ray vision, why don't you look inside at my baby and tell me what we're having." The reason I say this is because nearly every time I told someone I wanted to be surprised, they would look at my belly and determine that, "You're having a boy." Excuse me? Did I ask for your medical input? NO! What part of SURPRISE don't you understand? It drove me nuts. That was probably my least favorite part about being pregnant. I wanted to have a shirt made that said on the front, "Yes, I'm pregnant" and on the back, "No, I don't know the sex, and no, I don't want your opinion!" These types of conversations particularly frustrated me for two reasons. The first was that I held a position at work that required me to be nice to the customers, no matter how angry they made me. The second was that every time I dreamed about my baby, it was always a girl. I knew better than those silly strangers. I was the mom. I was in touch with my baby and my body, and I'd be damned if they undermined my mother's instinct. Aside from the weekly barrage of stupid pregnancy small talk, I soaked up every moment of carrying a child. Although, I did start to worry that my baby wasn't moving around by early November. I had to constantly remind myself that Niccole was two months ahead of me in her pregnancy. Her belly bigness and baby movement were far enough ahead of me that I really couldn't compare. I would forget this sometimes and start to worry. I would think to myself, "Niccole's baby is moving, why isn't mine?" It was the week after the 2008 election that I finally made an ultrasound appointment. I had been worrying for weeks whether or not my baby was okay. I wanted to see it for myself. So Corey, Maryn and I met at the clinic in Cottonwood across the street from the hospital and I had an ultrasound performed. Once again I had in my mind all those movies and TV shows where the happy couple hold hands and cry together at the sight of their child on the monitor. First of all, I had to pee like like crazy because I needed a full bladder to have an ultrasound. The extra liquid helps the image pick up better. So, I had a full bladder and cold gooey jelly on my tummy with a wand running over my bulging belly. Nothing emotional about that. We also told the ultrasound technician that we did not want to know the sex of the baby. So she was very careful not to reveal to us the important areas. As I looked up at the screen, I saw this ethereal image. I saw the head, the almost skeletal looking cranium of my child. Then the tech panned down further and I could see most of the body (just not the boy/girl parts). I burst out laughing. It was the funniest sight I had ever seen! This kiddo was inside me doing the running man dance!! It's spine was clearly visible and extending and contracting, arching back and curving forwards. Its arms were flailing about at the same time. This was definitely my child. A born dancer. We also found out during the ultrasound that the baby was actually two weeks younger than we had originally thought. When Maryn listened in on the Doppler the first time I visited her, she gauged how many weeks along I was based on the count of the hear beat and my fundus height. (The fundus is the top of the uterus. Throughout pregnancy, it raises higher and higher on the abdomen starting below the belly button and eventually growing to just underneath the rib cage.) That was also why I wasn't feeling things as soon as I thought I should be. I was actually two weeks behind, which in pregnancy, two weeks can make all the difference in the world and gave me relief to my worry that I wasn't on track. Feeling a sense of calm that my baby was healthy and developing normally, I went through the rest of my pregnancy without worry. A week and a half after the ultrasound, I was laying on the couch watching Horton Hears a Who and I felt the little person say hi for the first time. I turned the TV off and sat there, poised and waiting, hand on belly and then, thump, I felt it again. It was definitely the kiddo moving around in there. I remember it happening right before Thanksgiving. We went to a friend's house for the holiday that year and I sat on their couch, just tickled to pieces that I could share this event with friends and family. I had felt strange things before that event, and I got excited each time, only to realize it was gas or something else moving in my intestines. I had to think anatomically about it before it made sense to me. As a woman's uterus expands during pregnancy, it pushes all the organs in the lower abdomen out of place. The intestines expand outward, the bladder is compressed, and even the liver can get cramped from the growth of the uterus. That was probably the most painful part of pregnancy for me. My liver and gall bladder were smooshed and I would get a burning sensation just under my ribs on the right side halfway through my day. In spite of the chest pain, pregnancy was a joy the first time around. I am so excited to journey back through the land of parenthood for another child.

Hail, the Almighty Uterus!

2011-04-07T15:25:00.002-04:00

Okay, so, it's a cheesy title, but it's so true! Women!!!! Hear me now!!! The organ that holds and gives life to all humans is YOURS!!! It belongs to you and ONLY you!!!! Don't let anyone tell you what to do with your uterus!!!! There, I said it. I just get the feeling sometimes that women get bullied around by TV, doctors, moms, friends, boyfriends, husbands, the news, magazines and a plethora of other agents telling them what to do with their uterus. Let me make this very plain: you have options for birth and the more you know about your uterus, and what she is capable of, the better off you are and the more empowered you are when it comes time to bring your amazing child into this world. As a pregnant woman, I received sooo many bits of advice from people. Most of them were well-intended, but not really welcome. Everyone I met wanted to tell me what to do with my uterus. "You can't have a home birth the first time around! You need a doctor!" was the most commonly heard bit of information. Another one that made me laugh was, "You're not going to use drugs!? You'll be changing your tune when you're screaming for an epidural." People that told me these things, I suspect, probably had some sort of bad experience with birth. I also suspect many of the people who offered advice still had their own lingering fears surrounding this miraculous event. Not me. I was fearless. I remained undaunted by what others had to say about my decision to birth at home. I was thoroughly convinced that the ease of pregnancy and birth was strictly about how easy I wanted it to be. For example, I threw out the notion that everyone had to get morning sickness (I didn't puke once during pregnancy until the day I delivered!) I had it in my mind that proper diet and exercise would be my safety net for birth and all I needed resided within me to bring my child safely into this world. During pregnancy I received not only unwanted bits of advice, but also, very wanted pregnancy massage. I ran into a woman who had been in the same class I had attended that so very changed my view of birth. She had studied pregnancy massage before and was a practicing massage therapist and doula. A doula is like a birth helper. She assists the midwife and supports the birth partner during the birthing process. She also has a myriad of other tasks to do like massaging the laboring woman, or making sure the birth plan is adhered to, getting food for the birth partner, things like that. Also, my friend, Katie, the doula, had studied in the jungles of Belize with the Mayans. They had taught her uterus massage over the course of several visits. At the end of our pregnancy massage class together, she had the three other students and the teacher lay down on the floor. She walked us through the steps to do self-massage on our uterus. It's basically massage of the abdomen between the belly-button and the two hip bones, but in a specified manner. We learned that in the Mayan culture, the older women do this type of massage even on little girls. If a girl takes a tumble, they lay her down and massage her uterus. Why? Because it can fall out of place! Just like any other muscle, the uterus has tendons and ligaments holding it in place. And, just like any other muscle, those connectors can get stretched or misaligned. So, uterus massage encourages the muscle to straighten up. The uterus can actually sag to the left, right, front or back. She can even get crumpled down from the top. What happens with this out-of-place positioning is that there are folds and wrinkles where the uterus is flopped. So, if a woman has her moon and her uterus isn't straight, blood can get caught in these folds. This makes for.....Cramping!!! It can also add to the discomfort during childbirth if the uterus isn't straight. I was so amazed at this bit of information. My uterus had remained this enigmatic entity until I learned her truth. And it was with that bit of truth that I forged ahead with my plans to let Ms. Uterus do her thing, unimpeded by chemicals, medicines, drugs, whatever you want to call them, during birth. I trusted her fully and wanted her to perform without any hindrance from me or anyone else. So, back to Katie. She came over several times during my pregnancy and gave me prenatal massage. She would say a blessing with some herbs before each session. At the end of each session, she would ask me to lay my hands on my belly and get in touch with my child. Then, I would ask my child, "Is it okay if Katie massages you?" Invariably, it was always a "yes", although I have encountered women who received a strong, "no" from their babies. After the go-ahead from the baby, Katie would hold her fingers on my hip bone and "measure" how many fingers she could fit between the hip bone and my uterus. Then she would gently massage the side that was too far over and eventually, the massage would get my uterus back in the straight position. She would remeasure to see that she had equal fingers on both sides before finishing. "Every woman I have massaged during pregnancy has had a swift and easy delivery,"she told me the first time she made a house call. "When the uterus is straight, she can function her best. She doesn't have to fight gravity by laying on one side or the other. Also, the organs surrounding the uterus are not smashed to one side or the other." Katie ended up actually working with my midwife and became my doula officially in October. She was also working with my midwife's supervisor (the one who was to oversee my birth). She was going to be Shell's assistant when Maryn was on maternity leave. Katie actually ended up assisting with my friend, Niccole's birth. With that, Katie found her calling, to become a midwife. She trained later that spring to become a midwife and ended up moving to Oregon to work in a group of midwives a year later. Before she left us in Sedona, however, she held a gathering of all her friends who were involved in the healing arts. She passed on to us women her knowledge and skill of uterus massage so that we could practice on each other and incorporate that skills into our individual healing practices. Hail, the Almighty Uterus, Keeper and Giver of Life!!!!

Finding a Midwife

2011-03-31T14:57:00.003-04:00

The next few days gave us ample time to share the news of a new baby with all of our friends and family. The one place we did not share it with, however was our place of work. Upon his graduation from massage school, Corey was not only able to work full time were he had been serving tables, but he was also made bartender there. Meanwhile the resturaunt need a weekend hostess, and I was the person they called for the job. A friend of ours who worked there, Niccole, was already expecting her first baby. I wanted to tell her more than anyone else, but Corey and I were not ready for our coworkers to know our joy quite yet. When we did finally share with our coworkers that we were going to be parents, Niccole was on vacation in New Hampshire. I remember telling her our news on our 4th anniversary over the phone. She was by far the most excited person I had told yet, even more than my parents. She actually screamed into the phone. Ever since she had conceived, she had been telling me I needed to be pregnant too so we could be mommies together...well.....she got her wish :) Niccole recommended her midwife to me, and since I was set on doing a home water birth, I called Shell, the only midwife in town to see if I could be a client. She told me she had recently moved to Phoenix to start a midwifery clinic and that she was not taking anymore clients in the Sedona area. Disheartened, I looked online to see if there might be any other midwives in the area I had not heard of yet. In fact, there was, in Flagstaff. I met with one of the midwives at the clinic up in Flagstaff at the beginning of August. I asked her as many questions as I could think of. One major question that had been bothering me ever since I found out I was pregnant was would my mimosa brunch incident give my child fetal alcohol poisoning? I was amazed at what the midwife had to say. She told me that once an egg is fertilized, the sperm gives the egg enough nutrients to sustain itself for 4-6 weeks. During that time, the cells multiply and divide and create a small cluster of cells. After 4-6 weeks, the cells start to attach to the uterus lining. This explains why many women have miscarriages 4-6 into pregnancy. It is simply a failure of the fertilized to attach successfully to the uterine wall. If it does successfully attach, the placenta begins to form. So, the chances of me poisoning my child by over imbibing mimosas was very slim. The egg was not connected to a part of my body yet, and therefore was not damaged. After I heard about the egg attaching, it made me wonder, "Was that the child's first decision? To agree that it wanted to in fact develop further by attaching to its mother? That moment of attachment would be the moment that parenthood actually begins, when the child first depends upon the mother." I was disappointed to find out that the midwives in Flagstaff would not make house calls for my prenatal visits. That was a really big deal to me. I would be pregnant over the winter months, and winter in Flagstaff can be brutal. I didn't want to risk being cut off from my care provider during pregnancy, so I did not call them back to be a client. Shortly after that meeting, however, Shell's midwife apprentice called me up. She told me how she felt really badly that Shell could not provided midwifery care for me. She said that she was near the end of her training to become a midwife and that she would take me on as her client. She could perform all of the prenatal visits in the comfort of my own home and Shell agreed that she would oversee the birth as a licensed midwife. Everybody won. I got the midwifery care I wanted and Shell wouldn't have to make an extra monthly trip up to Sedona for my prenatal visits. I met Maryn, my care provider on August 24, 2008, one month after our 4th anniversary. Maryn was a petite, thirty-something woman, expecting her fourth child. Corey and I met her at her home in Cornville that afternoon. Corey palyed with her two oldest children while I recounted my experience with pregnancy massage and my views of birth. After about an hour of talking, she finally brought up the subject of hearing my baby's heartbeat. I told her I had not yet listened to it. She took me into her bedroom and had me lay down on her bed with my belly exposed. Corey came in too and we closed the door. She brought out a device called a Doppler and held it up to my flat tummy. Until that moment, I hadn't really felt pregnant. I wasn't showing, I wasn't having morning sickness, I was just a little bit tired. Then, I heard over the Doppler a faint and very fast, "womp-womp-womp-womp". "That's your baby," Maryn said, smiling. I laughed. It was so unexpected. I did not know what to expect, but whatever it was made me laugh out loud. It was hilarious! The quickness of the beat was ridiculous! This child is so tiny that its blood is pumping through its body and making a heartbeat that fast??? I couldn't believe I was laughing. I had seen TV shows and movies where the parents hold hands and cry at hearing their baby for the first time. I thought that was the way it worked. I was wrong. Corey was amazed and I was laughing. It was the first time that my child had made itself known in this world. The experience of hearing my baby's heartbeat made the reality of motherhood quite plain to me. I now knew, for certain, that there was in fact a human life, thumping away inside my uterus.

Breaking the News

2011-03-29T21:20:00.008-04:00

The morning after I received the news of my imminent motherhood was also my second day of floor Shiatzu at massage school. I did not feel like telling anyone in class right away. After all, we were all going to have to trade massage at some point, so they would have to know sooner or later, but I wasn't ready to tell them yet. I felt almost sad that morning as we explored the different ways to massage a person laying on the floor. I also felt incredibly vulnerable. I had to let all of these people touch me to practice massage and I really didn't feel like being touched. I just wanted to hide in my woman cave and hibernate until the news sunk in. Class began, and Sybil, the teacher, knelt down to one side of the woman laying on her mat as a demo body. We were learning the opening moves to a shiatzu session. She sat back on her heels, legs folded underneath her and her hands palm to palm at her heart center. Then she placed her hand on the demo woman's "hara", or abdomen as we call it in the west. When Sybil placed her hand on the woman's hara, I almost lost it emotionally. I had to pretend to use the restroom so I could cry in private. Sybil's opening move struck a nerve with me. Seeing her touch the woman in the very spot where my new child was forming was more than I could handle at that moment. Even though I thought I was ready to be a mom, I was not ready to swallow the enormous ball of acceptance. I had no idea what it really meant to be a mom, to be pregnant, to carry a child. After all, I had just released a lifelong burden about pregnancy a few months before. So the relative time of feeling free compared to feeling scared was minuscule. It seemed like an abrupt turnaround time. After a few minutes of quiet sobbing, I returned to class. My classmates were all paired up and practicing the opening moves. Since there were 11 people in my class, I was odd person out. So I paired up with Sybil. I couldn't keep my "condition" from Sybil if she were to do massage on me because there are certain things that you can't do with a pregnant woman when giving massage. (They are called contraindications.) I whispered into Sybil's ear, "I just found out I am pregnant." I remember feeling stupid after I said it. I made it sound like I just went to the restroom to do the pee stick thing right then. I didn't feel like clarifying at that moment, those were the only words I could get out without opening up the tear factory again. She understood. She gave me a hug and we began practicing. I felt apprehensive about doing a shiatzu trade during our afternoon session. I didn't want just anyone in my class to touch me. Before lunch, I decided that the one person I could tell about being pregnant and let them massage me was a middle aged classmate named Laura. She and I preferred to partner up on a regular basis and we trusted each other more than our other classmates. Also, I knew she'd be excited and happy about the news because she kept asking me when Corey and I would have kids. I needed a pat on the back at that point and Laura would most certainly provide that. I asked her during our morning break if she wanted to go to lunch at Thai Palace. As I asked her, a classmate named Matt overheard us and chimed in that it sounded like a good idea. Since the people in my class went out to lunch together regularly, I didn't want to be rude, and I thought it didn't really matter if Matt knew too. He kind of had a vision of me being a mother earlier in our massage training, so I thought it would be interesting for him to find out too. I also called my sister during one of our morning breaks. Ever since we were kids, we had an agreement, we would be the first people we tell if we were ever going to have kids. So, since I was about to tell a classmate or two, I thought, I have to tell my sister... As expected, Laura was more than thrilled at the news during our lunch together. You'd think she was the grandma by the way she reacted. I actually referenced Matt's vision to bring up the subject. I asked her if she would be my partner that afternoon too. Of course, she said yes. We returned to class and partnered up after lunch and I felt so much better about being pregnant. (Ironically, Sybil had a friend come in to take pictures of the class as they practiced on each other that day. So I actually have a picture of the first massage I gave as a pregnant woman.) After class was over for the day, Corey and I talked on the way home. He told me that during his lunch he went to our friends' house and talked to them about the news. We had just been at their house the day before we found out about being parents. ( The funny thing about that is we asked our friends on the way out, "How do we get one of these?" referring to their adorably cute three-and-a-half-year-old daughter. They answered, "Pray.") Corey told me how he brought up that conversation to tell them that we were going to be parents. He shared that after talking to them, he felt a greater sense of peace about being a parent. I told him how I also felt a sense of peace after telling my sister, Sybil, Laura (and Matt). So, after the shock of a positive pee strip and the silent dinner, Corey and I just needed a good night's sleep and the encouragement of some close friends to come to a place of agreement and acceptance. We were ready to walk our new path in life, that of parenthood. We didn't know what we were in for, but we knew we could do it together and everything would be just fine.

Cellular Echoes - Journey from Womb to the World

2011-03-24T17:49:00.000-04:00

Say What?!

2011-03-24T16:58:00.004-04:00

After my emergence from pregnancy massage class I felt like a born-again virgin. I had a new relationship with my womanhood. Knowing what my body could do, what my cycle was all about, and exposure to alternative birth options in the area all contributed to this wonderful new me.

In the meantime, Corey graduated from massage school, I started massage school and we moved to the next town over, Sedona. Me starting massage school and us living in our own apartment only bolstered my new found rejuvenation. My depression was just a shadow now, and life looked sunny. In the months following pregnancy massage I decided that I wanted to not renew my birth control when it ran out. I didn't like the idea of putting synthetic hormones into my body. A funny thing happened when we moved that May, I lost my birth control. It got packed and never resurfaced, so I ended my regime of pill popping earlier than expected.

I thought back to pregnancy massage. My body would take around three months to fully get the artificial hormones out of my body and for my cycle to reset itself to its own rhythm. I also remembered what I learned about imprinting during the pregnancy massage class. My body would decided which eggs to release two months before conception. In a movie about the unborn child called, "Cellular Echoes", the narrator tells about how a woman's body reacts to what she is exposed to to determine which eggs she will release up two months before conceiving a child.

Corey and I were not exactly trying, but we were not using protection for a week after my moon was over that May. I was fully confident that I would not conceive because of my recent usage of birth control. On midsummer, 2008, without knowing it, my body decided otherwise.

Two weeks later, my parents visited from Illinois. On the day they were to arrive, I woke up not feeling great. I dismissed it as a bug because even though I felt nauseous, I didn't actually loose my breakfast. Then, Corey and I went to the grocery store. Even though I had been up for only an hour, I felt like my hands and feet were made of lead and my body was completely drained of energy. I said, "I'm sorry, babe, but I can't walk through the store. I need to sit down. I'll wait for you on the bench by the door."

After that, I didn't notice anything unusual about my body, so I didn't think anything of it.

Two days later, we were celebrating Corey's 25th birthday at the Grand Canyon. On the way home, mom, dad, Corey and I were discussing a book we had picked up during massage school. We had a copy of it in the car, and we took turns flipping through it and talking about it. As Corey was telling my parents about part of it, I was reading to myself a chapter I had yet to go through. One of the practices for this chapter was to get in touch with the Diety that you acknowledge.

The part in the back of the chapter that described this exercise went something like this, "Imagine yourself standing before the Deity that you call yours. Now, ask your Deity a question that you don't feel like you have an answer to, something personal. Now, imagine yourself as the Deity being asked the question. What is your response?"

I read the first line and asked the question in my head, "When is a good time to have a baby?" Before I could even finish the question, I knew. I had an answer. It came to me almost as an internal smile. The answer was this,"Anytime is a good time to have a baby." I knew the anwer was right on the money. Remember, I didn't know I was pregnant.

On the last day of my parents' vacation, we went to the four diamond resort on the outskirts of Sedona, secluded from the rest of the town by an alcove of red rocks. All four of us enjoyed an enormous champagne/mimosa brunch. I was fully enjoying the mimosas (again, not knowing I was pregnant) and I paid dearly for it afterwards. I spent ten minutes in the bathroom after we left just sitting there on the toilet, wishing something would happen. My body felt entirely out of whack. Something was up.

I missed my period the next week, but still didn't think anything of it. I had just terminated my birth control usage and chalked it up to my body readjusting to not having hormone regulation. On Monday, the following week, I broke down and bought a pregnancy test at Walgreens on the way home from massage school. Corey was making fried chicken tenders, and homemade mashed potatoes and gravy for dinner that night. I went to the bathroom and peed. Three minutes later, I came and stood in the doorway facing the kitchen and said, "Oh, $hit."

"What?" Corey asked. He knew I had peed on the stick, but I guess in three minutes he had forgotten.

"We're having a baby," I said, my voice laden with disappointment. My entire world changed in an instant. I was soooo not ready to give up coffee, wine, drinking in general, my freedom, my body....Even though I wasn't scared, I was not prepared for pregnancy this soon, I didn't care what my Deity said. I wanted it to be on my terms.

I guess the universe, God, and my baby had other plans for my body and my freedom.

Corey and I ate our fried chicken in near silence. We were both pondering the implications of having a baby so unexpectedly. Our trepidation would be relieved the next day, but we had to actually get through our evening and digest this news before that could happen. The one thing we did decide on, however, was to not tell anyone yet.

Walking in Darkness, Stepping into the Light

2011-03-21T12:49:00.004-04:00

I woke from the dream on Saturday night. It had been clear, vivid, poignant, and a little bit morbid. As I awoke from the dream, I felt a fog lifting, everything seemed so clear. I began to realize that my fear of pregnancy was something I had adopted from my mother, it was not my own, and so, it was not mine to carry anymore. Nor was it my burden to bear about what happened with my sister. I had nothing to do with it, and there fore, I did not need to be fearful of being pregnant. Whatever pregnancy I would have in the future, it would be my own, not my mother's. And whatever would happen would happen. As Olga told us at the very beginning of class, "Every birth is Perfect." I had finally come to a place of peace about becoming a mother.

I felt a wave of confidence as I strode into class for the last day of pregnancy massage. I shared with the women my dream and with that how free I felt after realizing that my experience with childbirth will be nothing like what my mother experienced. Every pregnancy is different and every birth is perfect. I finally was able to wrap my mind around these ideas completely.

I now had the mindset that I was ready to be a parent. I remember thinking for the first time in my adult life, "If I get pregnant, it will be okay, and I can handle it." No more fear. I remember my husband saying to me before we were engaged that the opposite of love is not in fact hate...it is fear. Where there is fear, there is no love. And if love is present, there is no room for fear. Pregnancy should be about love, not fear.

And so with that in mind, I want to speak to you very plainly about this very topic, love V.S. fear. Fear is what drives most women to make decisions about their birth that they would otherwise not do. What creates fear? Ignorance. The unknown, or not knowing is what all humans are truly afraid of. I realized that the reason I had fear associated with birth was because I was ignorant of what my body was actually capable of doing during pregnancy and birth. It was with the arrival of knowledge that my ignorance turned into knowing, that my fear turned into love. With love for whatever children I would have, I knew all would go well. Something unexpected might happen, but it would be okay, because I wouldn't be in darkness and ignorance, I would have knowledge.

I think women have more going for them than they will ever know. There's a reason Eve ate the apple first. When Adam took his bite, there was already a piece missing...Women are fully equipped to carry and deliver a child without any help from anyone else, believe it or not. (And contrary to popular belief, it doesn't have to be traumatic, dramatic, or painful.) Every woman comes fully loaded with the parts, the hormones and the ability to give birth. The question is, do you have fear or love surrounding this miraculous and ancient act? If you have not yet embarked on your path of pregnancy or if you are already on that road, I ask you to look deep within yourself and see if there is any underlying fears you might have about giving birth. Write them down. Talk to someone about them. Get them out, and slowly but surely, you will find a place of love where you can at last feel safe about being a mother.

Finding hope

2011-03-18T16:30:00.003-05:00

I was terrified to enter the classroom at the Arizona School of Integrative Studies, ASIS, on Friday, February 7, 2008. As I peered around the corner of the doorway I removed my shoes. My gaze fell upon a candle burning on a plate sitting on the floor. Encompassing the candle were a several pillows placed in a circle. The room was spacious and carpeted in a faded purple color.

"Welcome!" came the voice of a plump, sweet-faced woman sitting on one of the pillows. "Come on in, and make yourself comfortable."

I walked into the room, gathering strength from knowing that Corey entered this very classroom five days a week for massage instruction. I carried with me feelings of apprehension and fear. I doubted my skill to give massage in the weekend to come and I felt like I was in the wrong place. Add to it a lifelong fear of pregnancy and I knew I was in over my head. "I should just turn around and leave now," I thought. "There's only one other student here besides me. No one will care if I just go home. This is too much for me right now." I spite of my all-consuming fear, I walked forward, into the classroom and sat down on one of the pillows.

As the class began, the instructor rang a chime. She introduced herself as Olga Morris, a nurse-practitioner, massage therapist and massage instructor at ASIS. We went around the circle, each student introducing herself in turn. There were four of us all together, two middle-aged women and two twenty-somethings, me being one of them. Since the class was so small, I had decided to stay. After all, with women, I felt like I could be honest and maybe even a bit emotional if the occasion arose. I had a habit of being "strong" and not crying, but something in me allowed me to let my guard down in this setting. When it was my turn to introduce myself, I barely got my name out when the tears started flowing, uncontrollably. I had held onto feelings of loneliness for so long that it felt like a huge relief just to be in the same room as other women who just wanted to listen to what I had to say. Tears poured from my eyes as I told about how I came to be in the classroom with this group. I ended by saying, "and I am so glad to be here."

After that I was fine. I had let go of whatever was making me nervous about being in the class. No one cared that I wasn't a massage therapist yet. The women were very supportive and understanding about my fear of pregnancy, even though I did not elaborate as to why. It was something that I just quietly carried with me.

The evening went forward and as it did, I found myself wrapped up in a world I had never known. I had learned what a period was in 5th grade, watching a movie about it with only the girls in my class. However, I had never known the scientific miracle that the uterus really was. For example, I had no idea that the strongest muscle in my body was in fact my uterus. I did not know that in ancient times, women's periods were actually set by the moon. During the week of the full moon, when the moon shines the brightest in our sky, that's when women would menstruate. During the off weeks, when the moon was dim, they would have the rest of their cycle.

This is why some people prefer to call a women's period her "moon". ( I adopted this as my word of choice when speaking of this cleansing time in a woman's calendar after learning about it in class.) I also learned that if a woman is irregular, she can actually set her uterus's rhythm by using a similar method. By sleeping in total darkness for three weeks, then sleeping with a small night light on, she can actually set her moon back to being regular. (It may take a few cycles of this, but Olga informed us that it does work.)

I went home that night with my head swimming with information. I was dazzled at the wonder that lay right above my pubic bone, my uterus. She had been a stranger to me, almost an enemy at times. But as I learned more about her, the more respect I felt for what she was capable of doing. I also noticed my fear of being pregnant dissipating.

During the second day of class, we actually got to have hands-on massage time. Since I did not have a massage training, I mostly watched and massaged the feet. I got to practice some of the neck strokes since they are easier to learn. I felt a little bit of trepidation as I began massaging one of the pregnant women who came in to be a practice body. I felt like I would brake her if I touched her.

After the day's work, we all sat in our circle again, sharing our thoughts and feelings about what we had learned and our experiences that day. I decided to take this time to open up about my fear regarding pregnancy. I shared with the women that my mother had lost her first baby in a miscarriage. She had carried this child for 36 weeks. At her last appointment, the doctor could not locate a heart beat. They induced her the next day, and she gave birth to a baby that couldn't cry and that they didn't take home.

This story was something my mother had told me at quite a young age and I think I never really processed this dramatic news properly. Also, my mother was pregnant with me 6 months after this baby was lost. I moved in after my sister moved out, and I think that the nervousness and tension from my mom being pregnant again affected me even in utero. She told me in later years that she was very nervous with me, even as an infant. She suspected that I picked up on her tension. So that's what I grew up with.

As and adult, I still carried the pain I had sensed in my mother. I also added to it my own fears, compounding it deeper and deeper inside, hiding it where no one could find it....until I attended Pregnancy Massage Certification Class. On Saturday night, my fears were dug out of the earth and released in a profound dream I had.

Alone in the Dark

2011-03-10T13:31:00.003-05:00

After Corey and I landed in Arizona, we pitched a tent in the back yard of the massage school Corey planned on attending. We showered, naked, outside using the showers attached to the back of the school. We heard our stomachs grumble and realized we hadn't had a bite since we pulled off I 40 for some ice cream several hours before. So, we took the advice of the school founder, Joe Rongo, and headed up Mingus Mountain for a dinner in Jerome at the Haunted Hamburger. Three days in a tent later, I was packing up my very small carry-on in the back of a mini-bus to take the trip down to Phoenix. I flew home as planned and lived in Illinois, away from Corey for one month while he started his massage therapy training.

On October 2, 2007, I was driving a loaded down 1995 Buick LeSabre with my mother in the passenger seat. She and I took the same road trip to Arizona that Corey and I had traveled one month prior. I had asked her to accompany me on this venture so that I would have someone to talk to and share with the driving. I knew it would be a challenge, my mother and I have always had a butt-heads relationship, but we still loved each other enough to go on a road trip. So I took a chance.

It was outside of Oklahoma City on the second day of our trip that I shared with her my desire to start a family out in Arizona. As expected, she was not congratulatory or supportive initially. "I want to see my grand kids, Rachael!" was her reaction. To her, the idea of me wanting to start our family a thousand miles away was in some way a jab at her, personally. It wasn't about her, it was about me and my desires for what I wanted in my own family.

I had intentionally felt lead to start a family outside the peering eye of my family, including the in-laws. I wanted Corey and myself to begin our parenting with our own views, values and habits, not with people telling us what we should or shouldn't do. I knew that a physical separation was needed for me to feel secure with becoming a parent. It wasn't in any way a personal stab at my mother, or mother-in-law or anyone else. It had to do more with me feeling freer outside the confines of familial closeness.

After a few miles, my mom came around, (as usual, her first reaction is just that, a reaction, then she ponders and has a new perspective. It's her process and I understood that.) She said to me, "Well, when you do have your first child, I want to come out and help for a month or so. Do your laundry, cook for you, clean your house, that sort of thing...If that's okay with you and Corey." There it is, the moment of compassion and understanding. I agreed that I would indeed let her be my maid after having a baby, no contest there.

Our trip ended at our new residence a day and a half later. Corey and I set up shop sharing a home with a single, forty-something woman artist and her boyfriend. We lived in a separate part of the house with two rooms and a bathroom. We shared a kitchen and living space. Corey had found a job at the local bakery making bread early in the morning. He had also started his massage training and absolutely loved it. It turned out to be exactly what he had been searching for.

My mother left after a few days, taking the same bus and flight I had taken one month earlier, and Corey and I were finally left on our own in the desert. This time in my life became a beacon of light and total darkness at the same time. I found a job at Maurice's working in the store room, preparing new merchandise for the floor. It didn't provide enough hours, so I soon had to find another part-time job. I ended up working as a teacher's aid at a k-8 school in the next town over. I worked primarily with the Hispanic children who needed extra help. This job was my ray of light. I grew so close with the girls I worked with that they started coming in to see me at my cubby whenever they could. They would always ask me if I wanted to have kids, and I always told them, "yes, but not right now."

Meanwhile, Corey had found another, better paying job. Two, sometimes three days a week after he got out of massage class each day he would drive to Sedona to wait tables at a brand new Mexican Resturaunt. This was the beginning of my darkness. Corey would go to class all day, learning amazing new things about the human body, about touch, about communication, and most importantly, getting massaged everyday. Then, he would leave class and drive to Sedona where he worked until late, usually it was 10 before he came home. I spent all day away from him, and life became miserable. Had I left all of my family and friends behind in Illinois so that I could come out to Arizona and be ignored???

A sadness, almost depression sunk in. I tried to take action by getting yet another job as a waitress. I thought, "why spend all night after school waiting for Corey to get home? Why not make money in the meantime?" So I waited tables in Jerome two days a week. If I thought this would help me get more friends (because the closest thing I had to friends were the young sixth-graders I worked with), I was wrong. The women who worked at the bistro were all bitter man-hating femministas. Okay, not all of them, but most of the ones I worked with had negative relationships with men. One was getting divorced, one had given up on men, one had no desired to be with a man and one was in a perfectly good relationship with her own reflection. It did not help me feel more loving or more close to my husband, which is what I truly wanted. And I knew that a baby in our future would only complicate things more.

So, my desire for starting a family began to fade. There was so much we still needed to accomplish before making that leap. We needed to reconnect, not to mention we needed our own space, not roommates. We needed our own bed to sleep in, for heaven's sakes, not someone else's loaned bed. It was also during this dark time that our roommates started seeing a counselor for their own relationship problems. Living without Corey most days and seeing our roommates not getting along only fueled my feelings of loneliness and despair.

How would I ever recover? What would it take to get Corey to be able to spend time with me? How long should I endure this torture before speaking up? A thought occurred to me at one of my lowest points, "Why can't I go to massage school?" I shared this with Corey and the people at the massage school in late January, 2008. I wanted to know what Corey knew. I wanted to have friends and get massaged too. Why not?

And then, the light became brighter...

Corey came home from massage school one day in February with a message from Joe Rongo. "Joe told me to invite you to a pregnancy massage class this weekend," he said.

"But I'm not a massage therapist yet," I replied.

"I know, but Joe thinks you might benefit from it."

He will never fathom just how right he was.

2011-03-07T13:53:00.002-05:00

As promised, I bring you Carrick's birth story...

In 2006, my husband finished his collegiate training in the area of Philosophy with minors in Religious Studies and Spanish. He held a bachelor's degree in laying down arguments and how to organize thought. He was well equipped to become either a lawyer or a philosophy professor, which are the two areas that most philosophy graduates study after college. He took the LSATs and recieved decent enough scores to get into a few law schools with tuition paid. I on the other hand was not up for the challenge of being the wife of a law student, so his idea was shelved. He then turned to taking the Naval Officer's test. He passed with exceptional scores, but was informed in an interview that he could not join any military branch of the United States because of his psoriasis. (While psoriasis is not contagious, it does make the inflicted a possible carrier of the smallpox virus after regulatory immunizations are administered.) So that put an end to his seafaring dream. He was still caught in a whirlwind of "what to do" after graduating college.

So, he and I continued our jobs at the local fuel hauling business where we found ourselves employed at the time. After a semester's worth of searching, he found himself as a student again in the field of computer sciences. It was laughable. My husband's staggering intellect at work on computer homework. I did not really like the annoying person he became during this January to May venture either, (and he didn't feel it was for him) so he left the field after only one semester.

The important thing that did materialize from this foray into the upper levels of collegiate education was his desire to tap into the student services offered (for free) during his semester's enrollment. He participated regularly in intramural sporting events at the student recreation center and found himself a nice "shrink" to talk to about the trials of married student life. His counselor was a great guy who listened to what Corey had to say. He also shared his own journey to become a student counselor. Part of his journey included training in massage therapy. A light was lit in Corey's mind...

One year earlier, Corey had looked into the possibility of attending massage therapy school. His dreams were quickly melted as he found out that the school he had fallen in love with was six states away in Arizona. We were not financially able to drop our entire lives and move out to Arizona for a six month program. But after hearing about his counselor's life journey, he decided, "It has to be now and it has to be that school." So, the decision had been made. Corey was going to attend massage school in the fall...in Arizona.

The summer came and went. Corey spent his hours freelancing with his hands. Anyone who would hire him to mow a yard, trim a tree with a chainsaw or put up a fence in a cow pasture found that his hard work was well worth the money. I quit my job at the fuel hauling company as well and worked in a group home for the summer. August arrived and we made our plans for our transference out to the wild west. Corey and I would road trip out there before his school began. I would get to check the place out, see if I wanted to move out there too, then come back to Illinois for a month. During the month away, he would have time to start school, make sure it was for him, find a place to live and a job. After those three items were checked off his list, I would join him in Arizona.

Road trip number one was one of the most memorable times in our marriage. We cruised down Rte. 66 (I-40), fulfilling a lifelong dream of mine. We were crammed in a 1996 black Ford Ranger, two-seater, with a stick shift and no cruise control. It was doubly memorable leaving Illinois on my father's 53rd birthday, during the hottest day in August with no air conditioning in the cab. We had purchased a topper for the back of the truck from a farmer before we left. Paying the man $25, we pulled it out of his field and erected it on the back of the truck bed. Beneath the inexpensive topper lie all the contents of our home we could fit in it, including a four-piece place setting of Corey's grandmother's china that I couldn't possibly live without.

As the scenery gave way mile after mile to more grandiose and breathtaking vistas, I felt myself being enchanted by the southwest. Until, on the third day of travel, we found ourselves broken down one mile from the Arizona state line, changing a flat tire. Cars whizzed by at 80+ mph as Corey lay on the asphalt jacking up the truck. I had set up a makeshift warning of suitcases so that the oncoming traffic wouldn't pulverize my husband. I was scared to pieces.

Four very tired hours later we were dropping down into Oak Creek Canyon, the home stretch of our 1000+ mile cross-country trek. If I thought the vistas were breathtaking before, none of them could even hold a candle to what lay before us. Twelve miles of Ponderosa Pine trees covering a massive crack in the earth known as Oak Creek Canyon. The back of our truck was rattling at this point and we were caught in the drizzly beginnings of a desert rain storm. We descended into the canyon on a series of switchbacks, truck creaking ominously with every bend in the road, threatening to give way at any moment. Cars were piled up behind us, honking impatiently, as we slowly made our way down the hairpin turns at 7% grade, plunging 1000 feet in a matter of miles.

The switchbacks ended after what seemed like forever and the gently curving road of the canyon trailed us along, presenting the most stunning views I have ever beheld. As the canyon opened up, we saw for the first time the place we would eventually call home, Sedona. After we finally reached our destination of the massage school, some 20 miles southwest of Sedona, I said to Corey, "This is where I want to start our family, here, in Arizona."

And so it was to be, quicker that I had imagined. However, parenthood was not to be mine without a little bit of soul transformation. Next time: Massage school, Pregnancy massage certification, and a life-changing dream are all part and parcel of my son entering this world.

Announcing March's Focus for My Ten Mommy Minutes...A Perfect Birth

2011-03-03T16:39:00.003-05:00

"Oh, he's such a cutie pie," a stranger will say to me on any random day I go out with Carrick.

"Oh, thank you! He's a sweetheart," I'll reply with a smile.

"Is he your only one?" is usually the follow up to the opening line.

"Yes. He keeps me quite busy," I politely respond. And then, almost without fail...

"Do you plan on having another?"

*Sigh* I have always been amazed by other peoples' fascination with my family plans. I am not even kidding you when I say that this conversation has happened to me numerous times in various venues with absolute strangers, and sometimes friends or family, but with different words. Why do the strangers care about whether or not there's another baby? Will they ever see me again? Probably not. But at the same time as it annoys me, it is almost flattering in a way. It makes me feel like I am doing something right, that my child is cute and well-developed ( I won't use the word well-mannered, because I don't think it applies to a two-year-old yet) and they want to know if I am going to contribute another terrific child to the world.

Well...to all of you random strangers, as well as to all of my family and friends, I want to tell you here first...we do actually have plans to add to our family in the future...next March to be exact.

That's right, the decision has been made. My husband and I want to welcome our next child to our family in March of 2012. Why March, you may ask? Because of the time it takes to properly imprint, conceive and grow a child, it takes one year. (I'll explain about that in a future entry.) So, since we are a year out from that time, I thought it would be a great opportunity to keep you posted on not only my journey into deeper motherhood, but also to use this next year as a way to focus on the beginnings of parenting on my blog.

Parenting does not begin when your child says "no" for the first time. It doesn't begin when you change the first diaper. It doesn't even begin when the child is born. Parenting actually begins when your child chooses you as their caregiver and you become responsible for that child. Some would say that means at the moment of conception. I would say it happens a little after that, but we won't go into too much detail about that right yet.

The big idea here is that I host a parenting blog and as such I want to start at the beginning. That means I want to talk about what happens on the child's journey into the world as well as the relationship the child has with the parent(s). My hope in all of this is to give a completely honest, open, and factual record of what I will go through as a parent and as an expectant mother. Some of the topics about pregnancy/birth I plan to cover in future entries will include, but are not limited to: diet/nutrition, exercise, stress management, imprinting, choosing a care provider for prenatal check ups/delivery, anatomy and physiology of the expectant mother, fetal development, and labor/delivery to name a few.

I already have a two-year-old toddler in tow, so I will also be including my challenges and triumphs with him along my road to baby #2. So to start out, this month's focus about parenting and mother hood will be the retelling of Carrick's birth story. Some of you may have heard it already, and it may be new to others. Either way, I want to give a clear and honest picture of where I came from as a woman, and how I grew and changed after becoming a mom. What did I learn from his birth? What would I change? What would I keep the same for the next baby?

Also, before closing, I would like to explain the title of this year-long journey...A Perfect Birth. This title may cause some of you to raise your eyebrows and say, "Oh, really?" I confidently answer you back with, "Yes, and here's why..."

Before I gave birth to Carrick, my son, before he was even thought of, I attended a three-day continuing education class for certification in pregnancy massage. It included four students and a teacher. One of the most powerful statements to ever come across my ears was spoken by the wise woman instructing us for the weekend.

Dear Olga said to us, "Every birth is perfect, no matter how the child comes into the world. C-section, home birth, with or without drugs, none of that matters. Every birth is perfect simply because the birth welcomes a human child into this world. What is more precious and sacred than that? The important thing is that the child comes, the rest is immaterial. Every birth is perfect because every birth brings life."

This statement challenged everything I knew about birth. I had 20 some-odd years of debris and rubble piled on top of what I thought birth should be and with one breath, she blew it all away. In my mind, I had thought, "Only bad moms have premature babies. C-sections are evil. The only way to have a baby is without drugs..." and so on. One by one, these notions fell to the power and truth of Olga's words.

And so it is with great joy, excitement, and a little nervousness that I introduce you to my year-long journey to have my very own Perfect Birth.

Putting it all Together- Habit 7

2011-02-27T19:08:00.003-05:00

Habit # 7 is all about taking time for oneself for renewal. Through renewal, we find the strength and focus we need to practice and continually master the six habits. If we find ourselves burning the candle at both ends and not taking time out for ourselves, we can quickly run into a pattern of forgetting the practice of the seven habits. If you are too exhausted or frustrated from life, are you going to remember to choose your responses and be proactive? If you are bogged down at work are you going to be thinking win/win with a coworker? Probably not. So, what to we need to do is to "Sharpen the Saw" as Habit 7 is so aptly named.

Dr. Covey came up with four areas of self renewal. They are: Physical, Mental, Spiritual, and Emotional/Social. Physical means we attend to the physical self, the body, the hard-wiring. So, things like exercise and eating a healthy diet are ways to renew our physical self. Mental represents participating in activities that challenge the brain. Writing, reading, problem solving, and creative expression like drawing or painting are all ways we can focus on our mental renewal. Spiritual renewal deals with what you hold near and dear, your values system, your "core" as Dr. Covey calls it. Ways to give this area attention is to practice a religion, meditate, or even listen to music or sit in silence. Find something that nourishes your soul. And lastly, Social/Emotional is slightly different from the other three areas because it is something we can practice all the time without taking special time out of our day to do it. However, do actually focus on it as an area, we need to be aware of what we are doing in social situations, like practicing habits 4, 5, and 6, which deal with our interactions with others. This is what Dr. Covey recommends in his book as a way to practice Sharpening the Saw for the Social/Emotional area of renewal.

What I like about Habit 7 is that it might be a personal journey, but my family can go along for the ride. Many of the activities mentioned previously can be done solo or with an entourage. Having a family music night or dance party celebrates the spirit and thus nourishes everyone's spiritual component of the self. Or spending time at a museum, seeing new things, and learning could be a family activity that gives strength to the Mental aspect of the self. Or you can do something on your own to sharpen the saw, like going to the local Barnes & Noble or the local library. Or, attend a yoga class to sharpen the physical saw by yourself. There are endless options to sharpening the saw.

And now....For the piece de resistance....the conclusion of my encounter with Carrick's Daycare provider....

In February, Carrick's daycare was closed for the day because the pipes were frozen there. We received a call early in the morning bearing the frigid news. It just happened to be on the day I was having my wisdom teeth extracted, so I was less than enthused. I found a backup childcare provider that day, but was never told about what would happen with the day I had already paid for at daycare. His provider never brought up whether she would credit that day or give us a makeup day or what. So, when it came time to pay March tuition, she had little sticky notes with each child's name on them folded up. Inside was the dollar amount we were to pay for March. The amount on Carrick's slip of paper was not only the full amount for March, meaning there was no credit for the unexpected day closed, but she was charging me for the day she would be closed during spring break!

In my head, this didn't make sense. She was collecting money for services not rendered. If she's closed, she's not watching my child, and if she's not watching my child, I'm certainly not going to pay her.

So, all day, from the time I dropped Carrick off until I went to the daycare to pick him up, I was putting the seven habits in motion. I had to think proactively and choose how I responded to this. I had one shot. If I made an emotional plea, I may not get the desired outcome, yet if I'm too soft, I won't get what I want either. So, I thought of several opening lines throughout the day and finally came up with one. I had to begin with the end in mind. My end was: either have her watch Carrick for two makeup days or have the amount for those days taken off March tuition. I thought of several ways I could navigate myself and the conversation to that end. One thing I knew for certain, I needed to be talking to her face to face and one on one, no other parents could be in on our conversation. I had to put first things first. This was an urgent and important discussion. It needed to happen that day, I couldn't wait until later. Tuition was due, and I was fully prepared to not pay it and withdraw Carrick if I wasn't pleased with the outcome. So, the talk was a quadrant 1 activity.

As the time drew closer, I put on my positivity hat and began to think win/win. It occurred to me that her insisting on getting paid for the week that she's closed might have something to do with needing the money. I went in thinking that this might be the case and not to be surprised if she wanted the full amount. Now, for synergy. I thought to myself, "I have a better shot at getting what I want if she does the talking. I learned from my husband who is in sales, most of the time if he steps back, the customers will talk themselves into buying a piece from the gallery. So I intended to use this strategy and hopefully we would come up with something that would work for both of us.

So, when I went to pick up Carrick, I asked if Corey had signed Carrick up for another day of daycare and didn't tell me because I was being charged for five days in March. I played dumb, and let her talk. It was non-threatening and not emotional, just a way to bring up a potentially charged or awkward, but necessary discussion. She explained that the parents were paying for her vacation the week she was closed. Then I asked, "so, we're not going to get credited for the day you were closed in February when your pipes froze?" She paused for a moment, then said, "I could do a makeup day. Would you like to bring him in on Wednesday? In fact, I could give you two Wednesdays, one for the February day, and one for the Spring Break day. Would that work?" Yes, that would be smashing. So, we both won. She got the money she needed and I received a service I was paying for. A delicate situation diffused by good planning and strategic use of the effective habits.

So, now that I am finished with the seven habits, I would like to encourage all of you to read the book. Also, if there are questions about anything I have posted, please feel free to email me directly or to post a comment. I would love to hear what you thought about this segment in my blog. Did it help? Did you learn anything new? Do you view your toddler in a different light?

Next month will begin a new chapter in my life's focus with myself, my toddler and my family and I am super-excited to share this with all of you...but you'll have to wait until March for the unveiling of the new topic. Until then, Happy Parenting!

So, we have officially covered all of the 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. Being Proactive, Begin with the End in Mind, Put First Things First, Think Win/Win, Synergize, and Sharpen the Saw all work together to help you walk your walk everyday. They help you choose your thoughts and actions as opposed to being yanked around by emotions and outside factors.

More on Habit 6

2011-02-24T14:49:00.002-05:00

So, the last time we met, I was discussing Habit #6, Synergy, which is the combining of forces to come up with something better than either party could have come up with on their own. Also, the synergistic effect of cooperation that happens during the process of discussing options and coming up with solutions.

One of the big challenges that parents will face at some point, unless they live in the middle of nowhere, is having to work with other parents and people who interact with their child. This is not always easy. Raising children can have more variables than a quantum equation. There are thousands, even millions of perspectives regarding what is right/wrong, acceptable/unacceptable when dealing with children. So, when you encounter parents of different viewpoints, how do you respect your values as a parent and at the same time come to an understanding with other parents?

One of the biggest things that we can do is to simply open up communication between adults. Go to parks, playgrounds, zoos, churches, playgroups, swimming pools, anywhere you can to observe and talk to other parents. The sharing of knowledge is one of the best things we can do with and for each other. Oftentimes, seeing or hearing what one parent does might help you along your path as a parent. And while you may not necessarily do exactly what they say, you might modify it to fit your values and your child.

A friend of mine told me that she made learning letters a part of her son's bedtime routine recently. He is just over two years old and is really starting to build his vocabulary. She uses the aquadoodle that he received as a birthday present to write different letters, and sometimes even words. Now, when he and my son play together, he likes to "read" his ABC book to us. He goes through each page, telling us what each letter stands for. "D-Daddy! M-Mommy!" and so on. My son was so caught up in his friend's new ability to 'read' that he wanted to 'read' to me out of his ABC book when we spend time alone. I asked my friend about what she did with her son to make him so interested in words. I took her advice, changed it a little to fit what my son is interested in, and now, he is "reading" too.

By seeing the effect that another parent's idea had on my child, I realized that as parents, we just can't do it all by ourselves. We owe it to ourselves and our children to learn from others, to share ideas, and to work together in raising our young ones.

One more example. My son has a issue with hitting when he's tired and can't express how he feels. However, hitting is not an acceptable behavior, whether or not he's tired. He can't learn to use that as a means of expression. I have literally tried everything I can think of to try to get him not to hit. I used time-out, I used the word "gentle" with an action to go with it, I have tried sitting with him on my lap, holding his hands down and saying, "hands are not for hitting". I am ashamed to say this one, but I even spanked him once for it, when he laughed about it and continued to hit. I was literally at my wit's end. I felt like a poor mother and that my son was going to be cursed with anger issues.

Until one night....He was playing with his little friend and I was enjoying some adult conversation with my best friend as our kids played. Carrick hit his friend, and I picked him up and removed him from the situation asking him to say he was sorry. My friend said, "Hands are not for hitting," but I don't think the message was conveyed. Then a light bulb turned on. I asked my friend what it would be like if the next time Carrick hit her son if she were the one to remove him from the situation and tell him that it's not okay to hit.

I thought in my mind, "If she does it, he won't be expecting it. It would totally change his perspective if someone other than mommy administered the discipline." So I shared my thought with her and she was on board. We have yet to test this theory, because Carrick has been pretty well behaved lately. However, it will surely happen again, and when it does, we will have parental synergy in place.

As I come to the close of habit 6, I see what it means to have all of these habits in place; one feeds another, feeds another. No one habit can work just on its own. They all need to be used in concert for the effectiveness and power they hold to really kick in.

I am going to test using all six habits together at the end of my day today. There is a misunderstanding between me and Carrick's daycare provider and I need some clarity and conclusion to the situation. I want to address her and be effective, and I know of no better way to be effective than to utilize the habits I have been blogging about since December. I need to be proactive, by choosing my responses. I have to remember to begin with the end in mind. I need to put first things first and keep what is important in the spotlight. I should go in with a win/win attitude. I also will put on my listening ears and seek first to understand where she is coming from. Then I will hopefully be one half of a synergistic outcome.

In my Habit 7 entry, I will discuss the outcome of this encounter as it is the habit that ties all the others together.

Peace in Parenting,
Rachael Sheridan

Habit #6- Synergize

2011-02-14T10:08:00.002-05:00

So, what the heck is synergy anyway? I always associated that word with business conferences and team building exercises, but I never really understood, or cared, what that crazy word meant, until now. The fruits of your efforts of the first five habits results in what is called synergy. Synergy is the outcome of person A and person B working together and as a result, their efforts are better than anything they could do just by themselves. Dr. Covey uses the mathematical equation of 1+1=3 to illustrate this concept. There is a subtle difference between synergy and "compromise" that we must be clear of before we go any further. Compromise is when person A makes a concession and so does person B. Each person gives up something of what they want so that at least a part of what they want gets to happen. In Synergy, person A and B work together and find a solution that is even better than either one of them could have thought of. No one gives up anything, and everyone is satisfied with the results. That is synergy.

Now, the 65 million dollar question is "How do I synergize with a toddler?"

Believe it or not, there is in fact a way to synergize with an opinionated, tempermental, reactive toddler. In Dr. Covey's book "The Seven Habits of Highly Effective Families" he talks about another type of synergy that happens between two people when actual synergy is not possible. This is the synergistic effect that happens during the process of trying to come up with a solution. It's essentially cooperation. He says that in the attempt at cooperation, the benefits are substantial even if there is no solution that makes everyone feel like they've won.

I would like to point out just how well toddlers are suited for this second kind of synergy. Most of the time, they want what they want and they want it NOW. They don't really care what it means for you the parent to get it for them, or how impossible it might be for whatever it is to happen. They get something in their brains and it sticks. This is the key for you as the parent to exercise "cooperational synergy". Go ahead, give them what they want, but guide them to do something for you before they get what they want.

At our house, Carrick still nurses a little bit throughout the day. He is in the begining stages of weaning and he doesn't nurse for very long when he does nurse. However, he does ask for it several times a day. Almost without fail, he will ask to nurse after he's done eating meal. Mommy is still eating when he makes these requests. I have every intention of nursing him, but it will be on my time and on my terms, since it isn't his main source of nutrition, more like a connective experience with mommy. So, as he is pulling his stool up to my chair to try to climb on my lap, I tell him, "You want mommy time? You want to nurse?"
"Nurse!" he shouts back.
"Okay, if you want to nurse, go sit on the couch. Couch! Nurse! Mommy time!" Then he gets down off of his stool and sits on the couch and plays around till I'm done. Sometimes he will forget his request and he ends up playing with some toys instead. However, I didn't deny what he wanted, I simply postponed it. He heeded my words because he knew I would follow up with him in a short while. I got to finish my food without him on my lap and he felt heard and acknowledged. We worked together and found synergy, cooperation.

Another example of toddler/parent synergy is in household tasks. Most toddlers I have come across love nothing more than to help unload the dishwasher, put the laundry in the hamper, take the trash out and vaccuum. I have said this one many times before, but it merrits repeating, "Let your kids help". This is another simple way to experience cooperation with your toddler.

Next time, I want to share the synergy I have experienced while interacting with other parents. With every toddler, there comes a parent, and learning to look for ways to synergize with the parents of other toddlers, we can learn from eachother and help eachother on our parenting journey.

...then to be understood.- The Second Half of Habit 5

2011-02-09T16:20:00.002-05:00

I have noticed that Carrick is in a phase of wanting to repeat everything he hears. This past week I had my wisdom teeth extracted and I was in a great deal of pain in the days to follow. In a moment of weakness the day after the procedure, I reacted to the parakeets' incessant chirping and yelled, "Shut up, birds!" Needless to say, I was not being proactive, but I call an exemption from pain delirium. I should have chosen my words better because the next day at breakfast, the birds were peacefully chatting to one another, and Carrick looked over at the cage and said, "Shup, Bird!"

Being understood goes beyond having a toddler parrot everything you say or do. While my story is amusing, it is also very telling. Carrick understood the words, but he failed to realize the situation behind the outburst. When the birds are being loud and annoying, it's no fun for us to listen to, but when they are chirruping and making sweet sounds, there is no need to quiet them. Your toddler being able to understand you comes from meaning and context. This idea goes hand-in-hand with you repeating back t them what they say in the manner in which they say it.

Here is an illustration of what I mean. Carrick has a hard time with hitting, especially when he gets tired or overwhelmed. Before any of us knows what's going on, he's attacked his best friend, not only causing him to cry, but causing Carrick to cry as well. It is incredibly frustrating, particularly because I am best friends with Carrick's best friend's mom. So, because we all hang out together so much, there is a need for reconciliation and friendship maintenance.

So, how do I help my toddler out in this type of stressful situation? I begin by being proactive and choosing my response, not yelling. Then I put first things first and separate Carrick from the situation. Then I begin with the end in mind, knowing that I want Carrick to apologize to his friend. I think win/win and take him into another room and close the door. I hold Carrick on my lap until he calms down and then I begin to talk to him. I seek first to understand what he says about the situation. I ask him, "Carrick, can you tell mommy what happened?" Sometimes I help him work through what happened by prompting him. Occasionally he needs help telling me what happened because he doesn't always know what happened. After all, he is only two.

"Did you hit your friend?" I'll ask him. "I did it, hit," he'll say. "Did you make your friend cry?" and I make a sad face. "I did it, cry. Dee-dee cry. I hit Dee-dee," he'll respond (Dee-dee is what he calls his friend.) "Is that a nice thing to do? Do we hit our friends?" I'll wait for him to answer and sometimes I have to help him with this one. "No, we don't hit our friends. That hurts. Owie. You don't want to give your friend owie do you?" "I did it, owie," he'll say. "What can we do instead of hitting? Can we be gentle?" and I'll pet his hand in a gentle way to demonstrate. "Can we give hugs?" and I'll hug him. "Can we give high-fives?" and we high-five. "These are all things we can do instead of hitting. Hitting hurt, Owie, cry. We want to be Gentle, give hugs, and high-fives."

Then comes the big part, the apology. "So, what so we say to our friends when we hit them and we didn't mean to? Can we say 'sorry'?" Then I make a fist and rub my chest in a circle for the sign for sorry and I say 'sorry'. Then I do the sign on his chest and say sorry. "Can you do it?" I ask. Then I repeat it, my chest, his chest. Then I say, "can you say 'sorry'?" After two or three times, he'll say it with me, sometimes he'll even do the sign on my chest. Then I stand up and hold his hand, "Can we go out to say I'm sorry?" and I walk out with him to see his friend.

When we get there, I set up the situation. "Carrick has something he wants to say to you. Carrick, what would you like to say to your friend?" Then I do the sign on my chest and whisper sorry and usually, he'll do the same.

Kids need help deciphering their world and by taking time and being patient with them, they can begin to understand what's going on. If they can't understand their own thoughts and actions, how can they possibly understand what we are trying to convey? By using the appropriate tone, facial expressions, even signs and gestures, they can begin to wrap their minds around events and situations that would otherwise be too overwhelming. This is how you can be most effective with being understood by your opinionated, reactive and unpredictable toddler. Sometimes conversations like the one I just shared need to happen several times before the memory of how to deal with that situation catches on in their minds, so have patience and persistence with this endeavor.

One of the biggest challenges we face as parents is for our words and more importantly, our message to be understood by our young ones. Remember that they are young and therefore not fully developed. Listen to what they have to say and give them space for their voice to be heard as well as yours. You are actually in the beginning stages of a lifelong relationship with your child. Start it off right with allowing for you to both be heard and understood.

Habit #5- Seek First to Understand

2011-01-27T11:24:00.002-05:00

Habit 5 is perhaps one of the more difficult ones for people to wrap their minds around, right up there with being proactive. How many times have you been in a conversation and you find yourself nodding your head in agreement because you not only understand what the person is going through, but you have a similar story and can't wait for them to stop talking so that you can share what's on your mind? "Yeah, yeah, yeah," you think as they continue on, "this happened to me..." and before you know it, you lost what they were saying because you were so focused on what you wanted to say to them.

This habit is about truly listening, not just providing an ear for someone else to communicate to. When we listen, and do it genuinely, we are able to repeat back what was said to us. Now take it a step further, not only hear what was said, and be able to repeat it back, but now, repeat it back so that the true message of what was said is captured. If someone just tells you that their dog died, you wouldn't come right back at them with a "Oh, wow! That's great! Your dog DIED!!!!" in an ecstatic tone. No, you'd sound like a heartless baffoon. Instead, you'd say something like, "It sounds to me like this is a hard time for you to go through. You had that dog for fifteen years. It must be difficult loosing a friend you were so close to," in a more somber tone.

The reason that this habit makes it into the cannon of the seven habits is becuase it puts people more at ease, lowering their defenses. If someone has their hands up ready to fight, they are not going to hear what you have to say. You are more effective with your words if the person you are speaking to feels understood, because that way, they are more likely to understand you.

For those of you who have read my previous entries, does this type of talking sound familiar? Several months ago I wrote an entry about "Toddler Speak", based on the book "The Happiest Toddler on the Block." Habit #5 directly uses the concepts in the 'Happiest' book, only it doesn't just tell us to use it on toddlers....we can use it on everybody.

Everyone wants to be understood, adults, teenagers, toddlers, even infants. But for now let's focus on what it means to understand a toddler first (then we will focus on how to be understood.) As discussed in my previous entry, if we repeat back to the toddler what they are telling us, in the tone they are expressing it, they are more likely to clam down faster in an elevated situation. This holds true because they know they have not only been heard, but understood.

Since reading about this habit, I have been using it with Carrick, and not only when he is in an elevated temper to try to calm him. I have been repeating everything he says to me as much as possible. "Mama, mama, mama!!! Gogur! Gogur!!!" he'll say to me, hanging from the refridgerator door. "You want some yogurt?" I'll say, and he'll nod hid head yes. He reached out with a need/want, I acknowledged that I heard his desire, and he responded affirmatively that that was what he was wanting.

Now, what do you suppose this will do for Carrick as he grows older? Not only does this practice model for him an effective habit, but it also teaches him good communication skills (which in my opinion are sorely lacking in today's culture). Message sent, message received, response sent, response received are the four parts of a conversation. All four of these parts need to be in alignment for good and effective communication. So, repeating back what was said makes sure that the person recieveing the message got it right.

My husband uses this habit with his sales. "Let me see if I'm hearing you correctly," he'll say to a customer, "you don't want to take this home today because you need to talk to your wife about it first. Is that right?" Immediately, he puts the customer at ease and their defenses are lowered. They don't feel like they have to fight off a salesman. This leaves them open to hear what he has to say, and not shut him out because they are worried about him selling them anything.

Your homework for this week is to repeat everything back to your toddler. Be like a mirror to them. Say what you think they are trying to tell you in the manner in which they are telling to you, and see what happens. I have found that in doing this, Carrick's toddler meltdowns have been so few and far between that when they do happen, I am almost taken aback because they are so unexpected. He has the sense of being understood, and so he isn't constantly trying to get my attention to feel understood. He knows that if he needs my attention about something, it will be heard and responded to immediately. His defenses are lowered. He's not in the fight or flight mode, he's in the play and tell mommy all about it mode.

Listen to your children. They are budding and learning, and all they really want is someone to listen to what they are experiencing in their new and ever-expanding world.

Next time: You have now set the stage for you to be understood, the gem of getting your point across, and the daily challenge of any parent.

Habit #4- High Five for a Win/Win

2011-01-20T11:48:00.004-05:00

This week I had been looking for isolated incidences of "Think Win/Win" (habit 4) but felt disappointed when I couldn't come up with any. They usually happen all the time, or at least once or twice a day. However, the more I looked for them, the more elusive they seemed. What was I doing wrong? Where was I tripping up? Was Carrick just reacting to the reduction of attention after his grandparents' visit? Or was I forgetting something as a parent that encouraged his primal behavior?

A few days after my last post, I started to worry that I wouldn't have any examples to share with my readers about the win/win thinking of habit #4. How do you accomplish this with a toddler anyway?

Win/win moments and outcomes, I found out, don't just happen, I have to create them. How do I do this? By truly incorporating habits 1-3. It starts with owning my responses to Carrick's behavior, choosing my reactions rather than simply reacting, being proactive, exercising habit 1. That gives me the calmness I need to begin with the end in mind, to look all the way down the path to the desired outcome and see the steps that lead to where I am standing, the key to habit 2. Also, all along the path I must use habit 1 with each step. Finally, I need to organize myself to actually achieve my goal, what is important to my goal, where do I need to spend my time, identifying my quadrant 2 activities to support this, using the grid of habit 3. By utilizing these three practices, the win/win thinking was already a in my brain. I was focused on my goal and I arrived there. Because I arrived there, those who were involved were also a part of my triumph.

Here's the magic: When there is a triumph, a victory, a win involved, who can possibly turn down a high-five? No one that I've met yet will ignore a high-five if it's appropriate, and that includes a toddler. In fact, that's one of the earliest forms of success acknowledgement that toddlers learn, is to give a high-five.

That is where I found my examples of Think Win/Win, in the high-five moments. I would look for ways to set up those moments instead of the isolated situations of "think win/win". The high-five moments required me to plan ahead somewhat, rather than waiting for them to occur. Because of the work involved with setting up these high-five moments, I was using the first three habits. By thinking of win/win as a stand-alone concept, I was failing miserably. Habit 4 is entirely dependant upon my commitment to the first three habits.

So, here is my biggest high-five moment of the week, how I used all the habits to get there, and the incredible win/win that happened as a result:

Carrick's favorite place for an outing right now is to the local wildlife park, where we have a year pass. He loves watching the animals feed, play and talk, ( "Tiger, Raaaoorrrr!!!!") On Wednesdays, I watch Carrick's best friend for the afternoon. I pick him up from his half day of daycare and watch him until his mom gets off work.

Habit 1- I took initative this week. I just got the house clean after buying new furniture and I didn't want the kids in the house all afternoon messing it up. So I used.....

Habit 2- I began my week with the end in mind. I thought about trying an outing to the wildlife park with both the kids by myself to fill up the afternoon time. With that end in mind I worked backwards: I want them to be at the park, rested and fed by the time they do the predator feed at 3. That means I need to have the kids napping by 2. That means I need to take the long way there so they have time to fall asleep. That means I need to leave town by 1. That means I need to be ready to pick up Carrick's friend by 12:30. Which means I need to have lunch ready for Carrick and me by noon. I need to have the car packed and ready to go before that, and Carrick and I need to be ready as well. Thining about the outing at the begining of the week gave me time to organize how I would accomplish this outing and where my time needed to be spent.

Habit 3- I used the 4 quadrants of habit 3, focusing on the first two quadrants. This exercise porved useful on the day of the outing as my morining time was precious to me. I needed certain things to happen so that we could leave town right after picking up Carrick's friend.

I also chose my reaction to things using habit 1 all throughout the day. When Carrick didn't fall asleep right away, I drove around, instead of letting myself get upset. I was also not pleased when my phone rang and woke up the kids before I had planned. We were all sitting in the car, the kids asleep in their carseats, at the wildlife park, when my husband called. The kids woke up after only 20 minutes of nap time. I chose my response, acknowledging that it was me who didn't turn down the ringer on my phone, owning my situation, and I just rolled with it. They did just fine with only a cat nap.

The two two-year-olds in my care that day had so much fun at the park. They were repeating every animal name I could tell them, including hyenea. They were thrilled with watching the animals get their "num-nums" on the predator feed. They also sat down and shared a bowl of ice cream. (And the cat nap proved beneficial for an early bedtime the day before Carrick's one daycare day.)

The outing was a complete sucess, a true win/win. I kept my house clean and the kids had a fantastic time with the animals, the fresh air and eachother's company. High-fives all around.

The lesson learned: Use the first three habits to set up high-five moments and everybody wins.

Habit #4- Think Win/Win

2011-01-13T10:54:00.003-05:00

Moving on in the world of the Seven Habits of Highly Effective People and applying it to my parenting, I come to the first habit that is not totally just about me, it's about how I deal with others. This habit is known as "Think Win/Win." I love the concept behind this habit because it is so unlike how we are trained to think in the modern society in which we live. Everywhere we turn, there are examples of someone winning while someone else is loosing. So to reshape our thoughts about winning and loosing, let's talk about habit # 4 as it applies to the world of a toddler.

At the wonderful age of two, sometimes several months before, we encounter the emerging will of our young child. Some people opt to label this new developmental stage as the "terrible twos". What they are really saying is this: I want to win, and I want my child to loose. Now, no parent is ever going to admit that's what they are thinking, but essentially, that's the essence behind the battle of the wills with a toddler. The parent has one thing in mind and the child has something completely different in mind. Since the adult has the brains and the brawn to win every time, they probably don't give the considerations of the child too much thought. They may just brush their behavior off as being stubborn or a "typical two-year-old."

You may be thinking to yourself, "How can I possibly think win/win with someone who is unable to reason or make proper decisions for themselves?" Here's how: Instead of going into rounds with your child about silly things, start "choosing your battles" so to speak. By only choosing to impose your will when absolutely necessary, you're giving your child the space to exercise their will when it's not harmful to themselves or others. They need this practice if they are ever going to learn how to stand up for themselves on the playground, or tell a stranger no, or not let their values be compromised. Will is the foundation of the self. Without it, your child will either lash out later, imposing their will on others in an undesirable way. Or the total opposite may happen, they might end up letting people walk all over them their whole lives.

Here is an example of choosing the battles with my own two-year-old. This winter has been exceptionally cold in AZ. We literally began the first week of winter with sticking snowfall and single digit temperatures. In spite of this, my son insists that he needs to take his shoes and socks off and run around barefoot. (Slippers go the same way, he'll have none of them on his feet.) By the end of the night, his little toes are so cold, not frost bit, not blue, but cold. Since he would throw an absolute fit if I tried to put on even his socks, I decided to let it go. He's not really harming himself. If his toes were that cold, he'd be uncomfortable and unable to run around and play. But since he's fine with it ( and I ask him a couple times throughout the night just to check in, "Would you like me to put on your socks?") I don't push it. Why fight over something so small?

Beginning with this practice will help you ease into the thinking of win/win. You will start to discover ways that you and your toddler can win by not fighting over small things. Let you kiddo discover who they are, and allow their will to develop without squashing it. Help them make sound decisions by offering options you're okay with. (Like instead of just letting them turn on the TV, offer them two videos to choose from that you approve of.)

Do this for several days, maybe even a week. See where your creative brain leads you. Does your thinking change at all? Does your child's behavior seem to calm down when they are not constantly being told "no"?

In my next post I will talk more about Habit #4 and give more examples of how we use it in our home.

Putting the First Three Habits Together

2011-01-08T10:58:00.004-05:00

Now that we have discussed the first three habits in the series The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, we have covered the three facets that apply to the inner self. Acting in a proactive manner, beginning with the end in mind and putting first things first are all about how we program ourselves and choose our thoughts and actions. The Habits of #4-6 are more outward, dealing with how you interact with your outside world. We will talk about those in the next entry. For the time being I want to bring to light what happens once we begin putting the first three habits into action on a regular basis.

Once you are familiar with these habits and start using them in your daily life, whether it be to be a more effective parent, husband, wife, human being, whatever, you will begin to see the world through a different lens. When you change your view of the world, you experience what Dr. Covey calls a "paradigm shift". This means that you see things in a different light, things that may have been invisible to you are now quite obvious, your relationship with yourself changes and begins to move outward.

One of the paradigm shifts that I have experienced since starting this little project is my attitude towards bedtime. I have been struggling with establishing an effective bedtime routine for several months now. Carrick's erratic sleep habits get me so stressed out at the end of the day. He could lay in bed for half an hour, tossing, kicking, rolling, getting out of bed, swinging his arms, talking and otherwise staving off sleep. Add this on top of me being tired and quite "done" with being mommy from the day, and you get two very upset, unsettled-down individuals.

I have recently been made aware of my lack of effectiveness and ways that I can change this bedtime situation. Instead of feeling powerless (also from lack of help from Corey), I feel empowered. That is my paradigm shift. from feeling helpless to feeling quite capable. I have yet to actually get the results I want, and I have to remember that it's a process to implement, not a quick fix.

Now that I have the tools necessary, I can now create the habit of a bedtime routine. A habit, as defined by Dr. Covey is possessing three things, knowledge, skill and attitude. So far, with bedtime, I had the knowledge that a bedtime routine needed to be in place, but I lacked the skill (not being familiar with the three habits) and the attitude ( feeling like I couldn't do it.) With my paradigm shift I have come to a place of feeling like I posses all three necessary components to create the habit.

How do I do this now? I use my proactive habit to choose how I respond to Carrick not falling asleep. Instead of saying in an exasperated voice, "Just fall asleep already!!!" I can choose to cuddle him, rock him, leave him alone, read him a book, or a host of other, more effective responses that won't leave him upset. I could feel myself defeating my own purpose each night when it came to me getting fed up with trying to get him to sleep. I knew that creating negativity around bedtime was counter productive, but I felt like I had no other choice. With habit #1, I realize that I not only have the choice, but that there are endless possibilities of responses to choose.

Habit # 2 is where I am just beginning. I know that in 6 months, I want Carrick to have a bedtime routine in place, fall asleep by 8:30 every night ( or as frequently as possible) and have him in his own bed. That is my end. Now I need to devise a way to get there. That's where habit #3 comes into play. By making my four quadrants, I can put the components I want to see happen into the four areas of urgency/importance. For example, in the first quadrant, I would put, " Setting an alarm for 8 pm". That means that it's something I need to do right now, and it's very significant. This will be the first thing that begins the bedtime routine every night. Carrick, Corey and I all hear the alarm and know that now is the time for starting the bedtime routine. Also in this quadrant would be changing a diaper and putting on pajamas.

In Quadrant #2, I would put things like reading a book, baby massage, and a bath. These are things that are important, but if time doesn't allow for them all every night, that's okay. If one or two of these things happen each night, then it's considered a success. In quadrant # 3, in the Urgent/ unimportant quadrant, I would put things like me having time alone to read a book, make a cup of tea or having time after Carrick is asleep to sit with Corey on the couch, just the two of us. It would be urgent, because it's time-sensitive but not so important that if it doesn't happen my night isn't shaken up. And lastly, quadrant #4 would be things that should be eliminated anyway, like watching a program right before bedtime.

So, now that I am equipped with the knowledge and skills to put Carrick to bed effectively, I need to keep a positive attitude that it will happen. After doing this several times, utilizing my knowledge, skill and attitude, I will have created a habit that I am happy about.

What kinds of things do you want to establish as a habit? How can you incorporate the first three habits to help you along? What kinds of shifts or transformations have you experienced in your own life since using the first three habits?

Next time, we dive into Habit #4, Think Win/Win.

More on Habit #3, Putting First Things First

2010-12-30T10:53:00.002-05:00

So, after sitting down with my own priority square as discussed in my previous entry, I came up with some amazing discoveries. I realized, foremost, that I had already been putting my energy into quadrant #2 for a while. I looked back at my older posts and confirmed what I had discovered. Doing the things that take time to include/explain to Carrick are all a part of this quadrant. These are things that are very important for me to do as a mother, but are not ever really urgent. The things like teaching him about how to peel a carrot, or take out the compost, or what goes into the trash can, or how to say a word, or even two words together...all those tiny little lessons that he's mostly only going to learn from me all fall into the second quadrant.

I started teaching him about trash as part of my exercise for habit #2, the end being I wanted him to help throw away all the wrapping paper after Christmas. So, I took the time the week before to show him the trash can, and said, "Trash". "Tahsh," he repeated, as he dropped a wadded up wrapper into the trash can. Then I showed him that after he was done with his snack, that wrapper could go in the trash as well. So everyday, he would come up to me with his hand out, saying "tahsh, tahsh, tahsh" until I opened up the door below the sink and let him throw away whatever was in his hand. This took some time. I had to explain to him a couple times that the things he wanted to throw away were not trash, like a toy, or a piece of clothing. Just because it's on the floor, doesn't make it trash. He didn't help out on Christmas, because I actually had a bag ready for whatever was unwrapped, so there was minimal trash to be picked up, but I put the process in place....by taking the time. The time I took could have been spent vacuuming, or doing dishes, or hanging up clothes, but instead, I put myself on pause to fulfil what turned out to be an activity in quadrant #2.

Backtracking a little, I would like to share what I ended up putting in my quadrants to perhaps help those of you who are struggling with what to put where. In quadrant #1, I have these things listed: Carrick getting injured, getting food ready for Carrick/myself, changing a poopy diaper, intervening an argument with Carrick and another child when babysitting, answering the phone if Corey calls, taking Corey lunch if he needs it. These are all things that are important and are the most urgent things that might occur in my day. I put the food things in here too because, even though I can plan for meals, Carrick is a growing boy and wants food pretty frequently, so I need to be ready with something to put in his mouth at any given moment. It's urgent and important. As a stay-at-home household director, it is also my duty to support the one who supports me, my husband. So if he forgot his lunch that day, I drop what I'm doing to take him his lunch at work. He needs it and I need to get it to him.

In quadrant #2, I have many of the things that I like to do anyway. Things like updating this blog, taking time to be mommy, or wife, putting the clothes away after the laundry is done. These are things that need attending too, but could easily be written off, postponed, ignored, or "I'll get to it later/eventually". This is perhaps the pitfall of the quadrant that should be getting more of our attention than the others. Because things in this category are not urgent, they can seem not important. Make sure that you are aware of this distinction. Urgent relates to time, importance relates to significance.

In quadrant 3, I find myself sitting on the couch with Corey at the end of the night watching reruns of Futurama on Netflix "Watch Instantly". This activity is urgent because Corey is at home right now, which is time I need to make good use of. Our time together is precious, so if he feels like veging out on the couch, I want to hang out with him. However, this activity is way up there on the unimportant list. We could be making use of our time together to read to Carrick, or to go for a walk when it's nice out. But sometimes, the urge to do nothing takes over. Other things that fall into this category for me are emails. Most of them need responding in a timely manner, but they have very little significance in my day. Phne calls are something else that can go into this quadrant. If my mom calls, I sometimes don't answer because I am otherwise engaged in something and even though it's urgent, it's probably not important. She and I talk several times a week, so usually whatever it is can be communicated later or left in a voicemail.

This brings us to our last quadrant, #4, the quadrant of time-wasters. These are things that are neither urgent, nor important. This is the quadrant that if we can eliminate or greatly reduce the activities spent here, we will free up more time to spend in the more important quadrants of #1 and 2. As a result of my own quadrant session, I decided to delete my gaming account on facebook. I had already greatly reduced my time spent on these games, but I was still getting posts from friends, and notices via email. These are things that I must later click through during my day. Every click matters, and every click is a moment of my life spent. So, if I reduced my clicks, I would reduce the time spent in Q4.

So, now that I have given you a snapshot of what kinds of things I do in a day, and where they fall on the priority list, try this activity on your own. How does it relate to you as a parent? What kinds of shifts would you like to see in your time spent? What actions can you take to give yourself more time in Q2, where the time spent there will lay foundations and deepen relationships?

In the next installment, I want to pull these three habits in for a review. They are all the more personal habits of the seven. The last four are more outward, working on your interaction with others. So until then, Happy Parenting!

Habit #3- Putting First Things First

2010-12-28T09:50:00.002-05:00

We last discussed the Leadership habit of Begin With End in Mind, and now we are diving into the flip side of that, which is called, the "Management" habit, Habit #3. This Habit is entiteld, "Put First Things First". The second habit deals with guidance, and this one deals with prioritization. Some people come by this skill naturally, they can just tell what needs to be done in what order. Other people struggle with this one. Whether you're a master at knowing the order in which to do things or you find yourself plunged in over your head, let me share with you a concept presented in the book for physically and visually categorizing your activities.

In the book The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, Dr. Covey shares this little chart with his audience. The chart looks like this: on a piece of paper, draw a square, fairly large. Now draw a cross in the middle so that there are four equal sections to this square. In the upper left corner, label the quadrant "Urgent/Important", in the upper right, label it, "Not Urgent/Important", in the lower left, label it, "Urgent/Not Important", and in the lower right, label it, "Not Urgent/ Not Important".

Now, what does into each of these quadrants? The first quadrant, "Urgent/Important" would include things that are immediate and need to be handled, like an important phone call. It's right now, and it needs to be addressed. (With caller ID, we can determine which phone calls are important and not.) These are also activities that can start to make our day hectic. It takes a fair amount of descernment to weed out the things that we really think are "Urgent/Important". Allowing too much to be plunked down in this quadrant makes for that frantic state of mind that so many Americans live in nowadays. After you write down things you think are Urgent/Important, go back through it and take a closer look at the things you wrote and see if the items can't be recategorized.

In the next quadrant, we have things that make a HUGE difference in our days if given the proper attention. This is where management comes into play. Spending time in the "Not Urgent/Important" quadrant will eventually give us more time/ more peace of mind on down the road. Things like getting to know a co-worker so you can understand them better and have a more peaceful work space falls into this category. It's not something that needs to be done right away, but will happen over time. It's not something that you should neglect because this person could be in the cubicle next to yours and you interact frequently. So, it is important that your relationship grows, but it's not a pressing matter, thus, "Not Urgent". This is the quadrant that you want to be able to visit and work from as much as possible.

The next quadrant is the "Urgent/Not Important" category. This one I call the TV quadrant (assuming you don't have Tivo). Say you have a favorite TV show you like to watch. It's Urgent, becuase it's on right now, but it's Not Important becuase it's not going to make a huge difference in your day if you miss this program.

The last quadrant is the qaudrant that is full of time-wasters. I call this one the games quadrant. I don't know about you, but I spend WAY too much time on Farmville, and this is an activity that is neither Urgent nor Important. Maybe your game is solitaire on your computer, or internet poker. Whatever the activity is, it's energy spent that could be channeled into something more effective and productive. This is the quadrant that if we can eliminate the activities spent here, or at least reduce the amount of time we spend here, we will free up more time to be devoted to that magical second quadrant of "Not Urgent/Important." Take a look at what is written in this quadrant and see if there are things that you can take out all together, or at least start by reducing the amount of time spent on these activities.

Now that I have introduced you to the concepts of Habit #3, Putting First Things First, sit down with your own pen and paper and look at where you spend your time. Whether you are a working parent or a stay-at-home parent, this activity can help bring your awareness to what is actually going on in your day. You may be surprised by what you uncover.

In my next entry, I will share with you my personal experience with this activity, and how it has helped me put some order to my day as a stay-at-home mom with virtually no schedule. How do I prioritize between the demands of a toddler and keeping the house in working order? What falls into the different categories with respect to Carrick, Corey's work, and my own personal needs? All these and more questions will be answered in the next installment of "My Ten Mommy Minutes"!

More on Habit #2

2010-12-21T13:28:00.004-05:00

As I progress through the Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, I become more and more aware of the benefits that this particular experiment holds for me as a mother. Effectiveness is the key to pateince. Being able to positively effect my budding almost-two-year old will be the key to giving him a healthy foundation on which to grow. If I start him out right, then the odds for him making good choices, expressing his thoughts and feelings and learning respect and responsiblity are increased.

As I talked about in my last entry, "Begin with End in Mind" is the second habit in the book by Steven R. Covey. Here is a Holiday Season analogy for this habit: The "End" for the Christmas season (for most families) is sitting by the Christmas tree on Christmas day, sharing gifts and taking turns opening them. You want to put a gift under the tree for someone special, but how do you get there? You buy the gift first. Now comes the task of wrapping it. You wouldn't wrap the gift by just cutting up a square of wrapping paper. You first have to measure, flip and mark where the box lies on your wrapping paper so you know just how long to cut it. If you miss this important step, you end up with gaps in your wrapping and you have to start all over again. (Or cut up a piece that you can tape over the gap.) Either way, your end result might not look as good under the tree if it's poorly wrapped, right? The desired result is missed becuase the begining wasn't on the mark.

The same goes for your parenting techniques. To be truly effective, you must begin each interaction with your toddler with the end result in mind. This is a constant and ongoing process. Some ends are longer-term than others. Some are almost instantaneous.

One of the most helpful ends is something that Carrick learned at Daycare. (Think Marry Poppins singing "A Spoonful of Sugar".) I really don't like picking up toys all day long. Since Carrick's main play place is in the living room, where most of the hanging out takes place, the floor gets very cluttered very fast. My End: Have the floor tidied up at the end of the night so it's clean for the morning. How should I do this? By making it a game of course. Carrick doesn't know that it's annoying to me to just follow behind him picking up toys. So, what if I made it so he could help? I sing a little clean up song and make it a game. That's how I begin. The process takes care of itself, Carrick thinks its a fun time with mom and dad, and I get my clean living room without doing ALL the work. This is one of the shorter-term examples.

Another example (more long-term): Bedtime routine. After dinner, Corey, Carrick and I will drink a cup of tea together. It's herbal, with a little bit of chamomile in it to add to the sleepiness of the evening. That's how we begin becuase my desired end is Carrick falling asleep with as little nursing as possible. We are down to almost 5 minutes of nursing (from the original 10-15 minutes from when we started him sleeping in his own bed.) All the other steps like showering, changing diapers, putting on jammies and brushing teeth are all in there too, but the begining is the most important. It sets up the rest of the routine and encourages my outcome.

One more example (even longer-term): My desired end of weening Carrick is set for mid-2011. I am of the mind that the child will wean when he/she is ready, but there are things I can do along the way to encourage that to happen. For the most part, Carrick only wants to nurse when he's falling asleep, if he's hurt, or if he hasn't seen me for several hours (like a re-connect with mommy time.) Looking back down the path from weaning, I think to myself, " What do I need to do to not refuse him nursing, but reduce the situations where he feels like he needs nursing?" I began with taking him for car rides for his nap times. That removes one instance during his day that he feels the need to nurse. I have stopped sitting down as much when he's hurt. If I sit down, he takes that as a cue to latch on. Or I ask Corey hold him and comfort him. Either way, these are steps at the begining of the road.

Being consistant and following through with your beginings is also important with being effective to a toddler. If they know they can rely on you to set up their outcomes, they will start reflecting what you give to them. Using this reflection is only to your benefit.

One last example: Each day, I do at least one load of laundry. I used to save this activity for when Carrick was napping becuase all he wanted to do in the laundry room was play with the water heater...SUPER dangerous. I got tired of trying to keep the door shut without him crying to be in the laundry room. My desired end: do laundry without Carrick crying and while he's awake so I can do other things (like blog) during nap time. So, I began by putting clothes halfway in the dryer so that he could put them in the rest of the way. Next I put him on the dryer so he could play with the dials before I set them. After that, I showed him how to clean the lint trap. Then I let him push the start button. The last thing we do is have a big jump from the top of the dryer where he's standing into my arms. Then we leave the laundry room together. He helps out without crying. I have effectively redirected his behavior and everyone is happy. (Not to mention that the laundry routine is set in his brain, so he practically tells me what to do next. Sometimes it's all I can do to get the lint trap replaced before he pushes the start button becuase he know's that it's the next thing.)

The second habit is also called, the "Leadership" habit. Think of yourself as the leader in an all-day game of follow-the-leader. The actions, words and attitude you put out there to your toddler will be what you get back. Begin every day, every short-term and long-term task by thinking about what you want out of it then decide where to start based on what you want to have happen. I gurantee your results will be beyond what you could have imagined from yourself and from your toddler.

Habit #2-Begin with End in Mind

2010-12-16T11:19:00.002-05:00

As I move along in the 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, I come to the End...that is to say that the end being in sight and a goal to be reached is the theme of Habit #2. Begnining with the end in mind means that your desired outcome is in the forefront of your actions and words.

This one, I have found, has been one of the more naturally occuring habits for me. When I deal with Carrick, I usually think to myself, "if I want this to happen with him, what do I need to do to get there?" It's a habit of looking down the path and following it back to where you're standing.

In a typical day with Carrick, I have two or three major outcomes that I want to see happen: have a lunch ready for him (it's the one meal that my husband isn't around for, so the full responsiblilty to feed Carrick is mine), set him up for a sucessful nap time, and have as few moments of unecessary crying (from him) as possible. The third of these is an ongoing challenge, and I'll discuss it in depth in my next entry. The first outcome doesn't require too much thinking ahead aside from timing it for when Carrick usually gets hungry for lunch.

My focus for Habit #2 today will be Nap Time. This one is delicate in our house. I have to do everything just right and in a certain order, otherwise, naptime either doesn't happen, OR I end up spending a good deal of my time putting him to sleep with nursing. The end is: Carrick sleeping alone in his bed with the door ajar. The begining is: After lunch, usually around 12:30, we get ready to go to the car for our "Nap Ride". Hat, coat, water, shoes, one toy for Carrick and a notebook or reading material for me all come with us.

After a couple months of doing this, I narrowed down our nap route to just one road, Historic 89A. We head around the corner and start on the curving, winding road that leads through Oak Creek Canyon. I chose this route becuase as I hug the curves, Carrick is lulled to sleep by the back and forth motion. Next, I turn on the local NPR station and listen to classical music. I turn it down low, and after several stunningly beautiful miles, Carrick yawns and rolls his head to the side, dropping off into dreamland. The first half of my contribution to nap time is done. This is usually the time when I pull out on a trailhead and read my book, or do some writing. Serene and peaceful next to Oak Creek, he's snoring and I'm in total bliss.

After we return home, I take everything in from the car first, open up the front door and go back to the car to get Carrick. I carefully unhook the carseat buckles and pull his arms through. I lean in, and catch his head on my shoulder, and hoist him up out of the car. Giving me his full wieght, he is hunch over my shoulder and we walk into the house to his bedroom. Here is the moment of truth, will my outcome happen? Have I set it up properly? Is he asleep enough that he won't be disturbed when I place him ever so gently on the bed? 95% of the time, yes, he will let me place him on the bed and close the door gently behind me.

I thought that this routine was a little much for just getting him to sleep, but then I realized that not only is this the begining of another end, weaning, it's also a routine that he's used to. Sticking to what I know works is also a part of it. If I don't go through the routine just right, he wakes up and I have to nurse him back to sleep. I know this becuase the few times I have had other people in the car on the nap ride, he doesn't sleep. Or if we are listening to something too stimulating, he won't fall asleep. Or if we take anothe road, there is too much for him to look at. With just shady trees mile after mile, he's kind of hypnotized to sleep.

Also, since he has never slept in a crib, it's not like I can just put him in his bed and hope he falls asleep eventually, becuase he can crawl right out. I also look foward to the repose of the canyon everyday. Driving along Oak Creek is one of my favorite things to do.

Sometimes, I get to the end of the Canyon and Carrick hasn't fallen asleep yet. Before I acted proactively, this used to really eat at me. But then, I sought a solution, instead of letting the circumstances upset me. Now, I get out at one of the campsites that's closed and He and I explore together. This gives him a chance to burn off any extra lingering energy, plus it's just a fantastic time breathing in the pine scented air and splashing our hands in the small, cold trickle of Oak Creek that runs through the campground. He has no trouble falling asleep on the trip back down the canyon after this.

So, step two, for all you parents out there, look for times throughout your day when you can look ahead to what you want to have happen, and find ways to set things up so that you get the desired outcome.

More on Habit #2 next time.

Proactivity: Part 2

2010-12-14T10:43:00.003-05:00

Another aspect of acting in a proactive manner is this: Choosing your response to circumstances instead of letting circumstances control you. This is a huge step in maturity. Some people are never able to implement this idea...ever. They let what happens to them dictate how they feel and what they think. Oftentimes, they blame the outside circumstances for their behavior, "If it wasn't so cold out, I wouldn't be so cranky."

This facet of proactive behavior is especially important for parents of toddlers to remember. As your young child is forming their own ideas and opinions about the world, how they want to do things, and how they respond to situations, we the parents are taken on a roller coaster ride of emotions and behavior. Our job as parents should be to implement this proactive behavior because, after all , WE are the adults with that ability. At 18 months, two, even three years of age, our children are not capable to choose their responses. They are directly reactive to whatever happens.

By the way, being reactive is the opposite of being proactive.

Since we, the adults have more developed brains, and have chosen to walk the path of parenthood, we need to remember to set our children up for successes rather than failures, teach them to give love instead of fear, and to communicate their needs and thoughts to us. We start to set up our children for a successful toddler hood when we choose not to be sucked into their reactive state. We must detach and remain proactive and choose how we respond to them.

This is one of those things that becomes a challenge to parents during outbursts, "tantrums" as some call them, choosing to remain calm, even though the child is freaking out about something. This used to be an enormous challenge for me. I liked nothing better than to shout at Carrick when he was crying about something , like not getting the toy he wanted, or not letting him throw his food on the floor. In his reactive state, he can't really control how he acts towards my parental decisions, however, I am fully capable of controlling my resoponses to his behavior.

Now, instead of getting that instant gratification that comes with over-yelling the tantrum, I either choose to ignore it, depending on the cause of the outburst, or I choose to sit with him for a while until he calms down. Also, I don't think I need to point out how pointless it is to shout back at an upset toddler anyway. It only makes them cry harder.

I must put an asterisk here*. The asterisk is this: The stern voice has its place. There are a few times when it's necessary to use shouting or an abrupt "No!". If the child is in immediate danger, go right ahead. This usually catches them off guard for just a few moments until you can get to where they are and take them out of danger. But, do save this for only emergencies. If they are banging on the TV screen and you're too lazy to get off the couch to stop them and redirect them, that doesn't count.

Please examine how you approach your toddler's behavior over the next week. See if you find yourself getting just as upset as they do. If so, perhaps you might want to consider choosing how your respond to them. The next time they slip into one of their inconsolable moods, try picking them up, or sitting with them on your lap. It will take a while to reshape the way your respond to them if you're used to being reactive. Be patient with yourself too. Give yourself a pat on the back every time you make a decision about how to respond, rather than going with the first thing that pops into your head. You might just see a change in your child too.

Habit #1- Proactivity

2010-12-11T17:37:00.002-05:00

Doing things now instead of later, that's the mantra of being proactive. I have kind of been doing this with Carrick for the past several weeks anyway. In my previous blogs, I discussed being slow with a toddler, or giving attention whenever it's asked. These are both examples of being proactive. Stopping the problem before it starts. That's the name of the game.

Acting in a proactive manner gets things done and thus creates more time down the road. Instead of dealing with a screaming child, I am given more time becuase his needs have been met. I have to say that the biggest ingredient to being proactive with a two-year-old is (again) giving time/attention whenever it's being requested. Not only does this keep things from escalating to a tantrum level, it keeps parents and children more calm. If your child isn't freaking out at you becuase they've already said, "Dad, dad, dad, dad" (or mom) a million times, you're not going to be freaking out either. I can feel that my blood pressure, adrinaline and stress levels all are lower becuase of acting proactively with Carrick.

A simple example from our lives about being proactive: I watch my friend's kiddo once a week while she's at work. Carrick and her son are best buds (since birth). They play and get along famously, except when Carrick is tired. We used to let the kids play until Carrick would start pulling hair. (He even bit his little friend once too.) Not only would I get super angry at him for doing this, he would get upset when his friend would cry as a result of his actions. So, we would have two crying kids and two excited moms trying to calm them down and teach them a lesson about hair pulling, or sticking up for yourself, depending on who the mom was.

I noticed that Carrick only did this behavior when he was tired. When I would watch the two kids together, I needed a way to effectively deal with them so that they wouldn't escalate the situation further. I couldn't comfort them both at the same time, and I couldn't very well put Carrick to sleep while his friend was in the house. So, I started putting the boys in their car seats and taking a ride while they both cooled down a bit. Can you imagine my surprise when Carrick and his friend both fell asleep in the car?

As a result, when Carrick starts to act tired when his friend is over (and I am by myself with the kids) I put them both in their carseats straight away and drive them around. I don't wait for the action to begin, I don't wait for a tear in the eye, I just nip it in the bud. So, for a week or two, the boys have been playing so much nicer at our house becuase I don't let them get frustrated or angry with each other.

Proactivity in the works.

More on Habit #1 next time....

The Seven Habits-Parenting Challenge

2010-12-09T12:14:00.004-05:00

I don't know how many of you are familiar with the book "The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People" by Steven R. Covey, but this is what's going into my brain via the audio CD. My husband and I are both exposing ourselves to this potentially amazing way of thinking and acting. I am choosing to apply the principles learned from this book to my parenting.

I will be walking through each of the Seven Habits on my blog as I learn about them and use them when interacting with Carrick. I will report back the results, and hopefully we can all learn something from this little experiment.

The Seven habits include: 1) Be Proactive 2) Begin with End in mind 3) Put first things first 4) Think "win/win" 5) Seek first to understand, then to be understood 6) Synergize 7) Sharpen the saw.

So, with that in mind, I will be proactive and get started!

The Power of Attnention, freely given.

2010-12-02T12:16:00.003-05:00

I can't even begin to tell you how peaceful these past couple weeks have been. Since the time I wrote about being slower with Carrick, including him with what we do, I have seen amazing results. I have felt minimal stress (even with a house guest over the Thanksgiving week), Carrick has had few, if any, breakdowns, and his communication skills are growing everyday.

Part of my success with communicating with Carrick has been this: Whenever he asks for attention, I give it to him, unquestioned, and immediately (whenever possible.) I have noticed that dropping what I am doing for 1, 5, even 10 minutes, and holding him, or seeing what it is he wants to show me, etc., the return on that investment of time is immeasurable.

I hear parents griping all the time about how their kiddo wants every bit of their attention all the time, and I wonder, what kind of attention they actually give to their little one? Carrick used to do things to get my attention, like pulling hair, or screaming. Both of those behaviors have fallen by the wayside since I have been proactive with giving Carrick attention.

If you're a parent who is stay-at-home, you have a slight advantage because you have all day to spend proactive attention time with your child. For those parents who work, your situation is a little different. Letting your child tell you about their day is just as important as you and your partner discussing your days. Which leads me to my next point: verbal skills.

This method of giving Carrick attention has paved the way for his new breakthrough in verbal skills. His attention lasts longer, so he has the patience to learn new words and how to put them with other words to make two-word sentences. It's one of the developmental tasks for two-year-olds, being able to put two to three words together. Just yesterday alone, he learned 4 or 5 new two-word sentences. One of them was enunciated perfectly, "Hot Pie" he said during a pre-supper snack time.

Giving Carrick attention has worked to his benefit, mine sanity levels have increased, and our family is so much happier for it too. I'm not "giving in", I am simply "giving". Isn't that what the holiday season is all about anyway?

2010-11-24T14:55:00.002-05:00

Do you find yourself constantly being tugged at by little hands? Or perhaps you find yourself with a creature whining at you for attention while you try to do things? What about this one: whatever you are doing, your toddler wants to do with you, even if it's something dangerous like chopping vegetables for supper?

My recently tested answer for you, the stressed out parent is this: inclusion. My son is almost two, and has started to show signs of his age. That means that things have to be done in a proper order, or a meltdown occurs, or that mommy can't give her attention to anyone but him. Both of these scenarios, as well as many others pose serious time threats to parents. As long as we can realize that time is the only thing at stake, we can effectively manage our toddler's behavior as well as share awesome quality time with them.

In my last post I discussed the idea of taking things slowly. This is along that same line of thinking. If we can pull ourselves out of the grind that would have us plug away at our tasks at home, to slow down and find ways to include our toddlers, we can foster better relationships with them as well as teach them how to be a part of our day-to-day activities.

Something that is important at our house is making our own food. We don't like to buy boxes or cans of food, at least not for supper. Most nights, we make things from scratch. We also don't eat a lot of meat, so that usually means chopping several vegetables. Chopping can get time consuming. Before I had this revelation of inclusion, I would tell my son to wait five minutes, put a song on for him to dance to, and sometimes I would get downright angry at his demands for attention.

The other night, he helped himself to a stool and stood at the counter top while I cut up some onions for a soup I was making. I decided to take action before he got bored and tried to climb onto the counter top. I handed him a plastic knife and the skin of the onion. Then I showed him how to chop it up, just like how mommy was doing. He was so tickled to be a part of the soup making process! He actually "helped" me in the kitchen for over an hour. His attention rapt, he ended up next to the stove on his stool with a small skillet that he'd poured some water into from the tea kettle.

He also found some dried up macaroni on the counter top that didn't make it into the last batch of mac'n'cheese we had for lunch. He carefully added each little bit of macaroni, and stirred it with the spaghetti fork I gave him. To top it all off, I gave him a stale bottle of basil to add to it. He was ever so happy cooking with mommy.

No matter what you're doing that seems like a chore, whether it be sweeping, laundry, or dishes, find a way to let your kiddo in on what you're doing. If they grow up seeing you take pride in the household and offer to share it with them, they'll be more likely to help out and follow your example, and continue as they grow older. If you shout at them and discourage them from helping because it takes a little longer, or they don't do it quite right, they're not only going to be upset, but they probably won't want to participate with household chores if they associate it with mom and dad getting angry.

So the next time your little one wants help cook, or put laundry in the basket, help them out, and show them a safe and kiddo-easy way to do what you're doing.

Taking it Slow

2010-11-18T11:05:00.003-05:00

This week I discovered the power of slowing things down when dealing with my (almost) two- year-old. He had fallen into a pattern of having several meltdowns a day. My husband and I have made a pact with each other that we will not use the term "Terrible Twos" or "Tantrums". However, I highly suspect that his behavior is the latter as a result of the former. I felt desperate and worn out. I had zero patience left at the end of each day, and heaven forbid Corey would get off work late. Carrick is like a puppy who gets restless around the time his master is about to come home. Carrick knows, he's got a clock built into his framework somewhere...

So, at the end of each day for the past couple weeks (since Corey came home from his business trip) I have had to get creative and proactive as a parent. One of the most miraculous things that has been both interesting to Carrick and a healthy activity for me was taking an evening stroll around the neighborhood. Sounds simple, doesn't it? Well, I thought I'd state the obvious because parents don't always see the easy thing right in front of them. They get stranded in the "living in the moment" frame of mind that is so demanded upon them from their children. Yes, acting excited, getting our coats and shoes on, filling up water bottles, and the best part, asking Carrick to climb into the stroller all by himself were all a part of getting him to think about something else besides waiting for daddy to get home. Not only did the walks get us out of the house, but they gave me a chance to clear my mind and rejuvenate after a day of monitoring the safety of another human being, as well as get some mild exercise in.

Now, here comes the zinger: taking it slow. Once we actually got out on the sidewalk, I made a point to stop if Carrick caught sight of something he wanted to investigate further. I began with dogs. Frequently on our evening walks, others are out with their canine companions, enjoying the shadows and cooler temperatures. With each dog we saw, Carrick would start panting heavily and pointing with vigor. "Yes! I see the doggy, Carrick. Do you want to say hi to the doggy?" Most of the time the folks with dogs were more than happy to share their furry friends for a minute or two and let Carrick pet them from his stroller.

Then came the flowers. Carrick learned the word for flower many months ago. It was one of his first words. On our evening walks, he's closer to the ground and moving slower than in a car and has a chance to point out various flowers. I always stop and pluck one for him to hold and examine whenever he points and says, "Pwah-wah!" Yesterday, we stopped and picked all kinds of different flowers that were fuzzy. Some of them he could blow away, some were like paint brushes. But with each one, I would show him how to feel it, and what it did that was special, like float when he blows on it. Sometimes I get flowers of different colors and name the colors. Other times I pull leaves off of trees. The point is, I stop, I acknowledge what he's observing and encourage his exploration of the world. I slow down. Where else to we have to go besides home?

The biggest realization I had recently about slowing down was just a couple days ago after Corey returned home from work. It was later in the evening, and I needed to start getting ready for bed. Carrick only wanted to sit on my lap and pretend nurse. (That's what I call it when he doesn't really nurse, but uses it as a pacifier of sorts.) I was not in the mood to postpone getting ready for bed because of pretend nursing. I got frustrated and said rather quickly, "here, go see daddy," as I handed him over to Corey. He burst into tears, unable to understand that I needed to do other things and his need wasn't being met. I took him back onto my lap and took a deep breath. I hugged him and said, "It's all right, honey. Mommy just needs to get ready for bed. Mommy is going to take a shower, take her makeup off, and brush her teeth. Would it be okay if you played with daddy for a few minutes?" He shook his head "no". Then daddy said, "Carrick, can I have kisses?" and Carrick leaned over to Corey and gave him a sweet little kiss, and a hug. Then as Corey hugged him back, I left the couch and got ready for bed.

I had to slow it all down. The transition was too abrupt for the little guy. (Whenever applicable) I slow down my speech, my thoughts, my process and let him in on what's going on. This has helped me not have so many freakout times. I read in a book recently that toddlers don't have a sense of time. They don't know the difference between five minutes and one hour. Their sense of time comes from routine. So, when someone just says arbitrarily, "It's time to go bye-bye", picks them up and walks out the door, the toddler might have a meltdown. But, slowing it down, and doing things that lead up to bye-bye can help them cue in to what's actually going on.

"Hey, where are your shoes? Can you get your shoes? Now let's put on a coat because, brrr! it's cold outside. What about a hat? Do you need a hat? Okay, let's go bye-bye! Can you say bye-bye to everyone?"

"Bye-bye"

The Seven-day Single Mom Challenge

2010-11-09T14:49:00.002-05:00

Holy Cow!!! I don't know how single moms do it! Corey just came back from a week-long business trip yesterday, and I couldn't have been happier to see him. We have spent weeks apart before, like when I go to visit family and he stays in AZ to work. However, this time the difference was in the location. Carrick and I were at home, and Corey was gone. It's a whole other ball game being in the same environment we're used to and having Corey gone than being away where everything is new and him not being there.

Because we were in our own home, our routine was very similar, with one glaring exception: Corey's absence. I tried to get family or friends to come visit for the week, but it was too short of notice for anyone to make it out. So I had to get creative and think of ways to keep Carrick "distracted" for a week until Corey's return.

Corey is a very involved father with Carrick. They take baths together and splash and play, he takes him grocery shopping, and most importantly, dances with him in the evening to various youtube videos. I noticed without Corey around, Carrick's energy was going to waste. I am just not wired (literally) the way that a father is. Corey seems to melt energy off of Carrick when he's around. For me, after being with Carrick all day, my energy stores are running low and I don't have a whole lot left to give into the evening hours. My hat goes off to single moms who must be "on" all the time. Kudos to you!

On Monday, when Corey left, I took Carrick to Out of Africa, the local animal park where lions, zebras and tigers roam in huge fenced-in areas. We have a season pass, so we get to go anytime for free, so I decided to start off our week right and go out there. Carrick said "Bye-Bye, ____" (fill in the blank) for the first time that day. I said, "Say 'Bye-bye, Bear,'" and he followed by saying, "Bah-bah, Brr," and waving. I couldn't believe my ears. I wondered if it was a fluke, so I tried it again. The tiger and the lion, both received their own personal good-byes. Later that week, he said, "Bah-bah, Tee-ti," which means, "Bye-bye, Ethan," his best friend. That's when I knew that he was really putting two words together. Hooray!

Later that evening, I went to Ethan's house for Carrick to have someone to play with. When I got to his house, Carrick sat on my lap and clung to me. This was strange behavior. Usually at Ethan's I can't get him put down fast enough for him to start running around with his little pal. I sat there in the middle of the floor, hugging Carrick as Ethan came up to him, offering him toys and getting him to smile. Finally, after several minutes, Carrick helped himself off my lap and began playing. That behavior tipped me off that he knew something was up.

I was nervous about taking him home because he knows when Corey is supposed to come home, and I didn't want him sitting around the house all night asking where daddy was. After a late evening, we returned home at Carrick's bedtime. As I got him out of the car, a car drove by and he said, "Dadah!" I laughed to myself, and said, "That's not daddy. Daddy is gone for a little while, but he'll be back in a few days." One day down.

Tuesday found me watching Ethan and Carrick, like usual. So, he had a friend to play with most of the day. They both fell asleep on a ride into the canyon, so I pulled over and read a book in a shady area and took some time for myself. On Wednesday, I did a trade with a friend of mine. I took Carrick to her house for her to watch him in the morning while I got some stuff done around the house. I tried leaving while he was playing with her daughter in the backyard. I was putting on my shoes at the front door, when I heard him burst out crying. I made a choice, I went back. I didn't want Corey's absence to be too traumatic for him, so I went back and spent more time with him before leaving. My friend said he was fine for a while, then noticed I wasn't there again and began crying. So she put him and her daughter in her bike trailer for kids and took them for a spin around the neighborhood. When I returned, he was laying on the bed with her and her daughter, the little girl was asleep, and Carrick was just staring into space, lying on the bed. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. He never lies down, he's always moving. He didn't even notice that I had entered the room, but as soon as he saw me, he got pouty-face. Then the tears came.

Thank goodness I ate my lunch before picking him up. After he finally calmed down, I had to dash to Flagstaff for a car appointment that I almost forgot I had. I was waiting for a lot longer than I had planned on. They had a big open show room where the waiting area was. I spent a lot of time pushing Carrick around in one of their rolly-swivel desk chairs. He held onto the arm rests and I pushed him around, spinning the chair every so often. He loved that. I finished my time there by letting him play on their computer. I didn't log him in as a customer, so I just let him press as many buttons as he liked on the keyboard. After a while of that, he was finished, and I asked how far along they were with the car. Thankfully they were done and printing out the report as I walked up to the desk.

Thursday, hump day, the middle of when Corey was gone. Thank goodness for daycare! Thursday mornings are when Carrick gets to play with all his friends at "school". I expected him to be shy again. He surprised me by only being shy for the first five minutes or so. Then he got off my lap and ran over to one of the play tables. I put my shoes back on, and waved bye-bye. He said to me (from across the room), "Bah-bah!" and waved. It was like he was saying, "Alright, mom, see ya later!" I went to get a massage and eat at my favorite place in town. I needed both to get through the rest of my time solo.

As Carrick woke up from his nap, I was watching some new videos I had just downloaded onto the computer. He watched them with me, fascinated. One of them had Corey's voice in the background. As soon as he heard his daddy talking, he got his pouty-face again. Then the pout turned into a sob. Then the sob turned into crying. My little boy missed his daddy! It broke my heart to see him so upset. I played another video of him and Corey from when Carrick was younger. Corey's antics in the video made Carrick laugh, but he was still crying. So after watching the video twice, and watching him half laugh and half cry, I decided we needed to get out of the house, and off to the park we went.

On Friday Carrick and I took a trip over the mountain to Prescott with our friends. They needed to get their car fixed and we volunteered to accompany them to, well, add some company to the trip. Saturday Carrick and I attended a super clothing swap. I came back with a whole shopping bag full of "new" stuff for $6.00!!! We spent that evening eating supper with Ethan and his mom. We let the kids play and we moms just hung out. One day left....

Sunday found me cleaning up the house in preparation for Corey's return the next day. I started my day by taking Carrick to my favorite food spot in the canyon for breakfast. I also squeezed one more time of Carrick getting to play with Ethan in as well. They boys played at Ethan's house while I tidied up our house.

Corey came back the next day, right as Carrick would have been falling asleep for his nap. Thanks to the added adrenaline rush of his daddy coming back, he skipped his nap yesterday.

Cosleeping to a Close: Part 3

2010-11-03T12:36:00.003-05:00

The third and final installment of my co-sleeping saga has arrived.

The time came when we decided we needed some space in our queen-sized bed. Carrick had been rolling away from me in the night after nursing, so I didn't feel like I needed to be next to him to keep him safe. He was sleeping just fine on his own, no breathing issues, no nightmares, no colic, just a really great sleeper. So I decided to try something new. Our bed was fairly low to the ground, and so I blew up a queen-sized air mattress and mad a bed for Carrick right next to our bed. It was just a few inches below our bed, and only a few inches from the floor. I put my humongous U-shaped pregnancy pillow on it and put Carrick in the middle to sleep. When he stirred to nurse in the night, I would roll down to the air mattress, nurse him, go to the bathroom, and return to bed.

This also helped our love-life. We now had the entire bed to ourselves, so now it was just a matter of taking advantage of Carrick being asleep either in the morning or at night. This was probably the best time of all of us getting sleep.

We had to move after several months of using the air mattress. Our new place had a giant, high-off-the-ground king-sized bed in the master bedroom. Also, since we had just transitioned into a new place, I decided that I didn't want to leave Carrick alone in a new room by himself, but the air mattress wouldn't work anymore. The bed was really high off the ground, plus the carpet had a funny smell, so I didn't want him in the air mattress close to the floor. He slept with us again, although this time, there was plenty of room.

Eventually, Carrick started turning sideways in his sleep, and since the bed was so far of the ground, he had to sleep between us so as to not roll of the bed. When he started making us into an "H" by sleeping sideways between Corey and me, we literally felt split. There was a great difficulty with having alone time too. So, we decided that the time had come for Carrick to transition into his own room and his own bed.

This was a BIG step for me as a mother. Carrick wasn't weaned yet, so he still cried to nurse in the night. I tried not nursing him once, and he just got hysterical. I thought, "you know, it's just not worth it right now to make him get so upset." So I continued to nurse him if he wanted it in the night.

The first step to him sleeping in his own room was putting him down to nap in his bed in his room everyday. That way, when he woke up, he was in that space and used to it. Then at night, I slept with him in (what was our old queen-sized bed) in his room, for a month. I wanted him secure with that space. Then I started a new step. I would fall asleep with him and after he nursed each night, I would get up to use the bathroom, then go to our bed and snuggle with Corey. Sometimes I would fall asleep there, and sometimes Carrick would cry again before that happened. However, I have to say this: Now that Corey and I are spending time together in the bed again, we have reconnected. Even though we might only get to spend 20 minutes each night together, and Corey is asleep for that, it's made a really big difference in our home life (and love life).

I know there might be some cynical people out there thinking, "Isn't that a lot of trouble to go through just to get your child asleep? Why not just put them in a crib and let them cry?" Here's why: It's a huge deal for kids to sleep on their own, folks. It's a major developmental task, whether they are two weeks old, or two years old. They are all by themselves, alone. Think about how you might like to snuggle up with a significant other, feel them next to you. It's comforting, it's reassuring. Imagine not being able to fully function on your own in the world and not having that comfort.

I also tried to coincide his sleeping alone with the natural movement of a toddler to declare their autonomy. Children of this age are learning about how they are separate from their parents, especially from the mom, especially if they are still nursing. They are learning about where they end and their parents begin, that they are not a part of their parents, but their own human being. So, I followed Carrick's cues about independence and acted on them. He doesn't nurse as long at night when he does nurse, which means he doesn't need mommy as much at night. He's all about self-feeding, making decisions, and of course, saying "no". These are all cues that he has moved into the Autonomous stage of his development, and so, I am trying to encourage that with his sleep habits.

I still have some work to do with getting him to sleep fully by himself all night long, but I am very happy with the progress we have seen since beginning this journey of Carrick sleeping in his big-boy bed.

Cosleeping to a Close: Part 2

2010-10-23T20:52:00.002-04:00

After the childbirth class, Corey and I talked about it, and we decided that co-sleeping was the way to go. It would mean more sleep for both of us if our baby didn't have to cry as much at night to get our attention when they need something.

Then we had our baby...two months early. We came home from the hospital after his delivery, and slept in the same bed, without our baby. It was strange, no belly, no baby. In the weeks that followed I yearned for the chance to snuggle in bed with my little bambino. I was a NICU mom, which meant that I got to pump my breast milk, hold him while a machine slowly fed him breastmilk through a tube, and then put him back in his plastic crib box when I was done. There was no snuggling and nursing, falling asleep together, laying with him on my chest, embracing my motherhood.

The day finally came when we could bring home our baby and have him all to ourselves, as well as being with him at night, which we were not used to. There was an entire staff of nurses that helped to look after him 24/7. We were released and left to our own devices as parents.

I was aware when we brought Carrick home that he was used to sleeping by himself. I had bought a bassinet for him to sleep in, just in case he didn't like sleeping next to his parents. I changed out the mattress out as soon as I purchased it. Not only was it plastic smelling, but it was also barely an inch and a half deep. I know babies aren't supposed to have a lot of cushioning for fear of suffocation, but this mattress couldn't possibly provide any cushioning at all. It looked really uncomfortable. So I switched the mattress out for some dense foam I had from a package that had been delivered. It wasn't soft enough for him to smush down and suffocate, but it allowed enough cushioning that I felt he would be comfortable.

The first two nights that he was home, he slept in the bassinet. He didn't really like it, but I was afraid to co-sleep with him because he was only 5 lbs. When my midwife came to check on us the third day home, I asked her when she thought I should start co-sleeping. She said, "Right now." That night I took the pregnancy pillow (The BIG one, shaped like a U)and nestled Carrick between me and the pillow. It kept him elevated, and I could hear and feel him breathing. He relaxed, and so did I.

I won't lie and say that it was super easy at the begining, becuase it wasn't. It took Carrick a few days to totally adjust to life without monitors and beeps and tubes. The first two nights he cired a bit. I found out later that he needed a little more noise in the house, like a soft radio or something becuase that's what he was used to. After a couple nights, he settled into a pattern and after a week he was on my sleep schedule.

After the initial adjustment of getting him used to us and our house, co-sleeping proved to be very beneficial for the family. I would wake up in the middle of the night, go to the bathroom, come back and he would just be starting to squirm around and start the smallest little bits of crying. I would nurse him right away, and he would fall asleep. Then I would soon follow suit.

I am convinced that Carrick did pick up on my sleep rythm. He and I would go to bed around 9 or 9:30 and wake up around 8:30 or 9 in the morning. So, even though I would be up to nurse him, I still managed to recieve 10-11 hours of sleep each night. I was a well rested mama!

Next time I will discuss the steps we took as a family to move Carrick in the direction of his own bed.

CoSleeping to a Close: Part 1

2010-10-21T17:17:00.002-04:00

I have begun the process of ending our time as a co-sleeping family. Some parents choose to use a crib, or a co-sleeper and perhaps you might learn something new if you fall into this category. For those of you who use co-sleeping, read on to hear my story. Also, feel free to comment on your personal experiences with your child's sleep method to add to the richness of shared knowledge.

We chose to co-sleep after our childbirth educator talked to our class about it when I was expecting Carrick. I had been on the fence with the issue of "where should the baby sleep?" since I found out I was pregnant. I heard a horror story from a friend of mine in massage school right after I found out I was pregnant. She told me that she and her friend had babies around the same time. She chose to co-sleep, her friend put her baby in a "co-sleeper" (a crib-like bed that has a side that folds out so that the parent can reach over to the baby, yet keeping the baby separate and "safe".) She said that her friend's baby died of SIDS after about two months or so. She was convinced that if the baby had been up against its mother, hearing the heartbeat and feeling the mom's breath, instead of off in the distance, the baby would not have passed away.

Okay, let's get one thing straight here, people, I am not here to trash on anyone's choice of sleeping. Each has its merits, and I am sure that one isolated incident isn't the standard for all. I know several people that have used co-sleepers quite successfully. I feel that there is no way to know for sure why that baby didn't make it. Anyway, the friend of mine was quite adamant that co-sleeping was the way to go. Snuggle up with your child, nurse them in the middle of the night, and never have to leave the comfort of your own bed.

When I suggested this idea to an older mom-friend of mine, she scoffed at the idea of co-sleeping. "Don't do it," she said, "you'll never get them out of the bed. You need to establish boundaries at a young age." Something about her reasons just didn't sit well with me. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I knew that at that point I was leaning more in the direction of co-sleeping.

Then during one of my prenatal visits, part of my homework was to fill out a questionnaire about pregnancy and share it with my midwife. When I told her what my biggest fear about being a first time parent was, she laughed. My answer was, "SIDS". She was a mother of 3, soon to be 4 at the time. She had home-birthed two of her three kids, nursed all of them and co-slept with all of them (and she and her husband still found a way to conceive two more kids!) So when I heard what she had to say, not only were my friend's myths about "boundaries" shattered, my mind was put at ease because some light was shed on the SIDS fear.

My midwife told me that her theory of SIDS is about the mattresses used in cribs. Have you ever smelled a new mattress? It smells plasticky, manufactured, and unnatural. Furthermore, the children sleep with their noses in close quarters to these mattresses. She suggested getting an organically made mattress if I wanted to put my baby in a crib. Then there would not be any off-gassing of chemicals. Also, to use dye-free, scent-free, hypoallergenic laundry detergent on organic cotton sheets for the crib. It sounded like a lot of money to me, but I thanked her for her insight, and continued to wiegh the pros and cons of the various sleeping methods.

The clencher came when we had childbirth class, as stated before. The leader of our group had two daughters, one was now three or four, and learning to sleep in her own bed, and the other daughter was only 4 months old. One question asked during this particular discussion was, "What if I roll over on my child?" Her response was amazing, eye opening, in fact, " Your first and strongest instinct as a parent is to protect your child. You won't roll over onto your child. In fact, there have been video recordings of families all sleeping in one bed. It's amazing, they synchronize. They all roll over at the same time, even if there is more than one child in the bed. The hormones released cause the sleep cycles to sync up."

"What about a crib in the next room? Any thoughts on that?" asked one of the dads.

"Actually, yes. If the baby is far away from you, like in another room, they have to cry louder and longer for you to wake up and hear them. So, by the time you actually get to your child, they are super awake and super upset. It takes longer to calm them down and get them back to sleep. When my duaghter stirs at night, I am already awake, and I am nursing her before she even wakes up. So she doesn't have to cry at all, and it's faster and easier for her to get back into her sleeping zone."

So, that was it. I was sold on co-sleeping. Closer meant more sleep for me and Corey.

Next time I'll discuss the actual ins and outs of co-sleeping from my own personal experience....with a preemie no less.

Toddler Talk

2010-10-15T18:38:00.001-04:00

I am currently in the middle of a book called "The Happiest Toddler on the Block." It was written by the same pediatrician who wrote "The Happiest Baby on the Block", Dr. Harvey Karp. I did not read the Happiest Baby book, but the nurse who comes to our house each month told me about it. She used some of the tactics in the book on Carrick when he was younger.

For those of you who have not read either of these books, I can tell you from experience, during the short time I have been reading Happiest Toddler, I have seen vast improvements with my parental communication skills.

The Dr. Karp tells about his findings in toddler communication in his pediatrics practice. He hated the checkups that involved toddlers. They were loud, opinionated, bad-tempered, and usually, the visits ended in tears. He then thought about the human brain, and how it develops. If you look at the way a toddler thinks, it is very similar to a cave man....primitive, immature, and not fully developed. So, to tap into that type of thinking, Dr. Karp came up with a method of communication to be used with the distraught, upset, and otherwise tantrum-throwing toddler.

(This is a quick breakdown of the method. I recommend reading the book to get the full idea.)

Step 1: Use "Fast Food Speak". He calls it Fast Food Speak becuase it involves repeating back to your toddler what they are trying to say. For example, when you pull up to Taco Bell and order a bean burrito and cheese quesadilla, the worker on the other end will say, "So, that's one bean burrito and one cheese quesadilla. Will that be all?" They tell you what you just told them to make sure they have it right. Why shouldn't our precious little ones get nothing less than what we would expect at the drive through at the Taco Bell? By doing this, they know that thier message is being heard. How frustrating would it be to have the Taco Bell person say, "Uh, are you sure you want to order that?" They just mirror back what you've told them, plain and simple.

Step 2: Now that you've told your toddler back what they are trying to say to you, they will get the idea that you are listening to them, that their message is getting through. However, there is a trick to it, you have to also mirror the tone with which your child is communicating. If they're hurt, don't use a sing-songy "it's okay" tone. No, that won't do for your small one. Let them hear what they are expressing. "I'm Hurt!" they're trying to say. So repeat back to them in a hurt tone of voice, "You're hurt! You got an owie. Owie on your toe. Ow, ow owie!"

Step 3: Short, repetitive phrases. Remember, these are cave people brains we're dealing with. By repeating several words or short phrases, you're keeping it simple and not overloading their already upset systems.

Step 4: Be emphatic. Say it like you mean it.

Step 5: Use gestures and facial expressions. By using crude sign language or some actual sign language, if your toddler understands it, and facial expressions, you are getting through to your toddler on another level.

This method of "Toddler Talk" as I call it should only be used to diffuse an upset child. Don't say "it's okay", don't use logic, just go through the steps, and you'll be super surprised at the responses you get.

Check out www.thehappiestbaby.com for his baby info, and amazon.com for purchasing the Happiest Toddler on the Block.

Potty Training Backwards

2010-10-08T20:43:00.005-04:00

My Son has an obsession with running water. Anywhere we go that there's a fountain, he's making the sign for water and pointing at it saying, "bahbah". He can't get enough. I decided to cash in on his fascination by teaching him how to wash (and dry) his hands. Then the real epiphany came: washing hands is the last step in learning how to potty train.

He had already mastered the last step, so why not teach him the step before that? This was a no-brainer, it involved more running water and it's the thing that most toddlers like to do most: flush the toilet. This step not only proved easy to teach, but easy for him to do..even when it was not appropriate. We would call him into the bathroom after we were finished with our business, and say in an ecxited voice, "flush? flush?" Carrick would run over to the toilet and pull the handle. Then he would turn around to face the sink and put his hands in the air. Sometimes when we would inadvertantly leave the bathroom door open, he would help himself to a flush, and another and another until one of us would make our way to the bathroom. We would politely say, "Great flush!" becuase we didn't want to discourage him, even though this is not the way potty trained people flush. We wanted him to keep at it. He has, and now he's better about only flushing after we're done on the potty or.....

He has his diaper changed. We moved the diaper changing scene into the bathroom. We did this to give him the idea that this is where the action is when it comes to diaper-realated events. Not only does he not kick at me while I'm changing him, but his hands are busy playing with the things in the drawer. That also means that poops are a cleaner process becuase he's not reaching for his pee-pee as soon as the diaper is off. He stands facing the drawers and gets his diaper changed while standing.

The last step that we've mastered lately is him helping to wipe. We let him play with the toilet paper roll while we're going potty. This not only satiates his desire to unroll the toilet paper, but he'll hand it to us, and sometimes put the toilet paper on himself where we would wipe him. When we change his diaper, we let him pull the wipes out of the box and wipe himself. Usually we have to take the wipe and do most of the actual wiping, but the point is, he gets it.

The most encouraging thing about this process is that he's retained what he's learned, so far. I am optimistic about the rest of the potty training process. The next part of potty training will be for him to sit on the big potty while his diaper is off, just for a couple seconds. This will be probably inserted between the removal of the diaper and the wiping stage to keep it consistant with how big people go potty. This will hopefully give him the idea of what the potty is used for and when to use it.

We're just taking it one step at a time.....backwards.

TIme for yourself is time well-spent.

2010-10-02T21:40:00.000-04:00

Carrick is celebrating his first month in daycare. He attends a group called "Free to Be Me". The teacher there is amazing and full of energy. She has the kids to yoga, sing songs, dance around, and do artwork. She has books, puzzles, games, cars, blocks, dolls, dress up clothes, a thousand-and-one things for a child to play with during the course of one day. Her fenced-in backyard has a tire swing, a sand box, a water table, a birdseed table and a slide. She lets the children explore themselves through play and interaction with eachother. Her background in early childhood education and 30+ years of experience make me feel secure with leaving Carrick there for the half day once a week he goes there.

It was an interesting decision to put him in daycare. I am a stay-at-home mom, and Corey and I lean in the direction of "attatchment" parenting style. I still nurse Carrick (although it's not his main source of nutrition at this point, it's mostly for settling down to fall asleep.) We also still co-sleep (although that chapter will be the next developmental milestone we address). Basically I am with Carrick 90% of the time. On the weekends, I might escape to go get a few groceries, or take a bath by myself, but otherwise, it's him and me.

At the begining of September, my best friend (whose child is Carrick's best friend as well) started her kiddo in daycare becuase she changed jobs. She began working during the day, three days a week. To make the job worth the money, she was able to put her child in daycare for two days, and I watched her little boy on the third day. So, even though he and Carrick could play together for one day, that still left two days that Carrick didn't have his best friend to play with. Let me tell you, those two days a week in a row became maddening for both me and Carrick. Hanging out with our friends was our break from eachother. I needed it, Carrick needed it, and when Corey, my husband got home after work each night, he realized that HE needed it.

So, our decision to put Carrick in daycare was kind of based on the fact that my best friend put her child in daycare. But the real decision came when Corey said to me one night, "Honey, I don't care if you have a job or not, put him in daycare for the sanity of our family. You need a break from eachother. I can't listen to you gripe, everyday, about how Carrick was so wild that you couldn't get anything done."

I called the same daycare that my friend took her kiddo to the next day. Carrick and I went together for the first two days so that I could observe and he could feel secure. It also really helped that his best friend was there to play with.

Now, I am able to bring this blog to you, uninterrupted, becuase Carrick is playing with his friends at daycare at this very minute.

My point with all of this is to illlustrate the importance of using others in your parenting journey. Even with an amazingly supportive partner, sometimes a stay-at-home parent could just use a breather. ( My hat goes off to the single parents. You folks especially need to take some time for yourselves.) It's healthy to take time apart from your child, even if you do the attatchment parenting. It allows you to regroup, and allows the child to learn secure attatchment. Remember: If you're stressed out, your child will pick up on that. It just makes everyone's day a bit more difficult. So make sure to give yourself and your child some time to chill.