Family Playlist

This past Sunday as I drove to church I listened to an interesting segment on the Weekend Morning Edition  about how to pick the right songs for a wedding. This was probably the most frivolous segment of the show, and it impacted me the most. I am going to own the fact that finding the formula for the best wedding music is more intriguing to me than some of the world news right now. That's just where I'm at.

NPR's Stephen Thompson argued the need for quality wedding music. Amen. We have all been to weddings that could have been taken to the next level, could have lasted a little longer, could have had more impact on us if only the music flowed better. I am all for being taken on a musical journey during a wedding. I tend to enter wedding sites with the expectation of being swept away emotionally - the music has a huge part to play in that. I want things to start off slow and sentimental, work into some poignant reflection, and then lead me onto a vibrant dance floor that makes me mad at the newlyweds when they decide to close down the party by leaving. This seems like a simple wish for weddings. No pressure, my single friends.

Stephen's anatomy of what makes great wedding music was not the most intriguing part of his argument, though, albeit completely validating and interesting that NPR would like to explore such a thing. What has been playing through my head the past few days was Stephen's passion to have a family song. It was not even enough for him to have a family song, he wanted a specific song that his children would be so attached to that they would insist on having it in their weddings. He was adamant about passing down music, and embedding certain songs into his children's' lives.

Over the years John and I have fallen into some songs that are "our" songs and our family songs. A few songs from The Head and The Heart have become ingrained in our family, mainly because Grayson insists on listening to them on repeat. The repetition is worth it to hear Grayson belt out the lyrics as Lu tries to get a few words out.

I don't what to put pressure on my children to attach so much to certain songs that they will love them as much as I do. I believe that some family songs will take shape organically, but I think we may also start to be a little deliberate about incorporating repetition to songs that would be good candidates for family songs.

Here is the number one song for Stephen and his family. It's kind of a mantra.

Do you have any family songs? What would be on your family playlist?

Learning in Process

Some days John and I have to verbally remind each other that our life will not always be as it is now. We will not always be held captive by early bedtimes, diaper changes, feedings, play dates, and toddler mood swings. It seems like at least a few times a week I hear from parents of school-aged children, "I don't envy you right now." John was told recently that we are living out the hardest years of our life right now. We were promised that we will never again be as tired and weary as we are during these early years with the kids. John and I have decided that we will hold the person who made this promise accountable.

Don't get me wrong, we love our children, and we love all the endearing moments, but we are also running tired. For a while I felt guilty that I was trying to find a light at the end of the tunnel. I felt guilty that I was not content in the moment, and I worried that I would miss the great, little moments with my kids as infants and toddlers. I had to give up reading blogs or looking at the Facebook because it can seem like every other mom but me absolutely thrives on the physical grind of child-rearing.

Last week I heard the voice of reason. A woman assured me that I was okay for not feeling energized and enthralled with my daily activities right now. I was encouraged to be told that as the dust settles and the children grown, each stage gets more enjoyable. I don't need to focus so much on making this survival time out to be the greatest years of my life. I have not talked to any honest parents who just rave about how great the early parenting years were for them. Most seem to shake their head and thank God they are not still living those years. Slowly I am taking the pressure off to be Super Mom, and I am not beating myself up when I think about some things I could or would be doing if I was not in the parenting cave. I'm learning that it is possible to love your children deeply, yet still need other things going on in life. It's okay that these may not be my glory days.

Falling in Love

The past couple of weeks with the kids have been especially enjoyable. Grayson will be 2-years-old next week, which means everyday he is a wild card of emotion, and Lucy is a three month old girl who insists that the world take notice of her. If I focused only on the complex times with the kids I would always be wondering why John and I ever even entertained the idea of being parents. Thankfully, though, the rich times outshine the developmental chaos that kids endure.  Despite his fragile emotional state, Grayson has started to really shine. Despite her celebrity attitude, Lu has started to show some her of ever-endearing personality. For a while I thought that the days with the kids felt easier and more enjoyable because Grayson and Lu started interacting with each other more - they have a game of mimicking each other's sounds that ends in both of them laughing. Their interaction has provided some entertainment, but that was not what changed things. Yesterday I realized what it was: I'm in love.

I did not fall in love with Grayson immediately. I so often hear pregnant women say that they are in love with their unborn child. I read status updates to the gist (actually to the verbatim) of, "So-and-so was born today! I am so in love with him!" I don't doubt that these women are in love, but that was definitely not my experience. I loved being pregnant, and I enjoyed the special relationship I had with Grayson when I was pregnant, but if I really thought about it, I did not think about how in love I was with Grayson, I thought about what an alien-like experience it was to be pregnant. Think about it: a human grows inside another human. So weird.

When Grayson was born my first thoughts were not of head-over-heals love. I'm not even sure if love was in my realm of emotions after Grayson was born. I distinctly remember feeling the weight of responsibility like I had never felt before when I delivered Grayson and the midwife placed him on my chest. That feeling of responsibility lingered. I kept thinking, "This is it. I will forever be a parent. There is no taking this back." The first few months after Grayson was born I could not honestly post a status about being in love, if I had wanted to. Most of my emotions we directed at trying to accommodate the transition in our family from being just me and John, and the major life change of becoming a mother.

It's not that I did not love Grayson when he was first born. I definitely loved him and I cared for him relentlessly, but I was not in love. For the first couple of months of his life Grayson was mainly the responsibility that I was given. Part of my responsibility as a mother was to love Grayson. It was not until the transition period gave way, and Grayson secured his role in our new family, that I fell in love. When Grayson was around 12 weeks old I realized that I was in love. I went back to work when Grayson was around 10 weeks old. Initially going back to work was tough, but it was not as tough as I thought it would be. I realized I had fallen in love with Grayson when going to work became harder, when I missed him more, when my heart longed to see him every moment. I vividly remember telling John when I fell in love with Grayson. I had been waiting to fall in love with Grayson, and when it happened it was so great.

When it came time for me to have Lucy I did not know what to expect. I did not put any expectations on myself to be in love immediately, but I thought that I may fall in love with Lu easier because I was already a mother and my heart knew what to expect. When the midwife put Lu on my chest I did not feel the deadweight of responsibility, but I did not feel overwhelming feelings of love either. I remember feeling very matter-of-fact, like, "Okay, our second child... check!" It was strange. The night after Lu was born was extremely rough for me. Her birth caused me to mourn the little three-person family we had. Before Lu was born, John, Grayson, and I had a good rhythm. Lu's arrival threw off that rhythm. I knew that we would eventually find a new rhythm, but I also knew that life would never be the same as it had been with just Grayson. My feelings of what I was losing were hurtles to me falling in love with Lu.

As when I had Grayson, even though I was not in love with Lu I still gave her love. I knew that at some point I would be in love. I originally thought I would fall in love with Lu easier and quicker than I did with Grayson, but I think it took a little longer because I was divided in my attention. When Lu was born Grayson was just beginning to break out of baby shell, and I wanted to spend all the time possible with Grayson so I could get to know him as a  toddler. Also, comparatively, babies are nowhere near as entertaining as toddlers, so I was not as intrigued with Lu's ability to open her eyes or breathe, as I was with Grayson's comedic timing and growing social skills.

Over the days, as Lu started to wake up from her newborn fog I caught myself falling for her. She requires a lot of attention. She has a sense of humor. She is sassy. She is super smiley. She can be feisty. And I am completely in love with it all. We have a new family rhythm and I would not change it for anything right now.

Did you fall in love immediately? Share your story!

Moments I would not have, if not for Lu:

Maternal Judgement

Sometimes parenting makes me feel like I am 14 years old again. I can feel like I am under the microscope. Like I am being critiqued. Like I have to measure up to some parenting standard. Like there is some cool crowd style I am supposed to conform to. If I think too much about parenting I go batty. So many opinions. So many folks who are certain they have the right techniques for raising my children. There are times when I really connect with the motherhood community and I think to myself, "Gee, we are all just trying to make it through this stage together." Then there are the other times. There are the times when I have conversations with mothers who know everything and appear to have it all figured out. Those are the times I catch myself starting to fume and get into fighting position. In those moments I no longer care about the motherhood community. I take on the Hunger Games  mentality and think, "May the odds be in your favor." In those moments I am ready to battle the opinionated mother (or maybe non-mother... it's very possible). I have debated blogging about some of my encounters. I don't want to alienate folks, but the stories are rich. Sometimes I even agree with the practices of these super confident women who send me into a rage. Sometimes I actually practice the same parenting style as them. So it is not actually their opinions or style that wrecks me, it is the judgement that I can so easily feel. I love this piece in the Huffington Post about maternal judgement.

I definitely connected with the Huffington Post piece. When I was pregnant with Grayson we had grand plans of how we would parent. I saw so many blogs and Facebook posts of women who clearly have 40 hours a day to do crafts with their children, have a completely organic life, keep a perfectly decorated home, cook elaborate meals, throw creative parties, go on amazing vacations, have perfectly witty and enthusiastic family outings,  and still have time to talk about it all. The bar is set pretty high for what it looks like to be a parent. At the end of the day, none of that matters though. What matters is that I raise my children in the way that is best for them and what works best for our family. Now I don't care so much about living out a certain parent persona, but rather just doing what needs to get done for my family. I think that is the responsibility of every mother. Do what you need to do and brush off the rest. This morning I had to fish out a letter "M" alphabet graham (euphemism for cookie) from Lucy's mouth. Grayson is our little Socialist and likes to give everything to his sister. The incident highlighted two things: 1) I was preoccupied for longer than one second, so Grayson had time to get a cookie in Lu's mouth, and 2) We officially give Grayson cookies in the morning. I am sure the pre-parent Shannen would have something to say about this, but all the parent Shannen can say is, "It's just where I'm at right now."

Weekend Recap: Laughter

I don't know when Grayson first laughed. Somehow I missed his initial laugh. Or maybe I didn't miss it, but I don't recall it. This evening John and I were chatting while Grayson was taking a bath. I was holding Lucy and she started making a noise. After Lucy made her noise a couple of times we realized she was LAUGHING! Her belly laugh was so endearing. The best part of the entire moment was that Lu was laughing at Grayson. Once Grayson realized he was making Lu laugh he hammed it up even more. It was one of those moments. 

Thought-Provoking Thursday: Life Without Children

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During the past couple of weeks Lucy realized she is alive. The endearing "fourth trimester" most babies experience after birth has come to an end and Lu is beginning to take on her personality. It has been fun to see glimpses of what Lu's future personality may be like. Most signs are pointing to the fact that she will be feisty, but we will see who she actually becomes. I don't want to typecast her too early.

Grayson's recent developmental growth spurt and Lu's decision to tell us how she feels, has left very busy on the parenting front. Throw into the mix my return to work and our upcoming move, and there is a recipe for exhaustion. I keep reminding myself that in a few months this wild time will be just a memory and it will not seem as tough, even though every parent I talk to affirms that these months are a total bear - which tells me that they remember how tough things can be. I stare at mothers with older children and I tell myself that there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

I would be lying if I said my heart was boiling over with maternal joy every moment of the past three months. There have been many times when I have thought, "How did I get here?" The combination of tiredness and lack of personal time has led John and I to jokingly say to one another, "Our life!", when things are particularly tiring. Frankly, every morning this week I have started off by saying to myself and aloud, "My life..." The more tired we get the more John and I tend to reminisce about life before kids. Yesterday when I was in Atlanta I drove past so many places that John and I frequented before kids. We can never go back in time. Even when we go on dates or have a weekend away we are still parents. We still have little human beings depending on us. We still have the logistics to figure out just so we can get time for just the two of us. Pretending that we do not have children for a night or weekend will never be the same as when we did not have children.

Not every moment is this stuck-in-a-dark-damp-tunnel kind of moment, though.  That's kind of the paradox of having children. We have so many rich moments with the kids. I love watching Grayson and Lu interact. I thoroughly enjoy days like yesterday, where we just get in the car and go on an adventure, even if that adventure is simply going to IKEA. Whenever John and I are away from the kids and free from their immediate needs, we find ourselves talking about them, quoting Grayson, or looking forward to getting back to see them. When we went to Asheville for a weekend away from the kids we spent a  good portion of our time looking for fun gifts to bring back for Grayson and Lu. We missed the kids. A lot.

I am learning that raising children will be one of the hardest - if not the hardest - things I ever do. When I think back to my life before kids I briefly wonder why we gave up so much freedom to raise children. As quickly as that thought comes to my mind it is pushed out by the fact that for every minute that tough or tiring, there are so many greater riches to outweigh those hard moments. The kids bring riches that we could never experience without them. KJ Dell'Antonia's rebuttal on Motherlode to this New York Times article came at the heals of our weekend away from the kids. I like her take on things.

What do you think?

We Got Away

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A couple of weekends ago John and I dropped the kids off at the grandparents' house and headed to Asheville. We had been looking forward to our getaway for weeks. We spent only about 35 hours in Asheville, but it was 35 hours of the highest quality. What made our time so nice was the ability to saunter around town, do whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted. 

Our children - like most children - have a time limit. Whenever we go places with our children we know that we have a limited amount of time to enjoy ourselves. If I take the kids shopping with me I have to strategically plan my shopping so as to get in and out of the store as quickly as possible. I make a mental map of the any shopping experience, for efficiency. There is no time for browsing, resting, or people-watching with children in tow. On our getaway I so much enjoyed the relaxation of sitting in restaurants with John, enjoying the sights around us. When the kids are with me I tend to have tunnel vision and I neglect all the interesting goings-on around me. I loved the opportunity to wander around with John and gaze at all the crazy things people do. 

Here are some highlights. . . 

Frivolous Friday

This week has seemed abnormally difficult. Our getaway last weekend was fantastic, but reentry was very hard. The kids were out of sync, we were out of sync; our family unit felt like it was running in irritating circles. During the middle of the week John and I exchanged texts, trying to figure out why this week seemed harder than usual. It felt like someone turned up the treadmill without our permission.

This week my goal was to focus on the positive moments and to find some frivolous things to laugh at.

Here are some of the positives.

Here are some of my frivolous finds.

Tents that are designed to look like more than just tents. 

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Yarn bombing. What do these folks do that allows them so much spare time?

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Seriously?

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Grandma went crazy. 

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Thought-Provoking Thursday: It's Okay to be an American Mom

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Parenting is a great mystery to me. It can be an overwhelming mystery. I think all the information women are bombarded with while they are pregnant is just the introduction into the sensory overload that comes as a parent. I find myself purposefully avoiding parenting conversations. I overhear women discussing parenting and I cringe. Just the thought of chatting it up about parenting practices wears me out enough to lock myself in the nearest bathroom stall. Don't even get me started on the blog posts about parenting... ironic, I know, being that this is one of those posts.

It's not the actual act of parenting that gets me so overwhelmed and wound up, but it's the chaos of opinions that tends to surround it. Grayson will be two years old next month. I have spent the past two years trying to get a sense of my son. What works for him, what does not. What is a standard developmental phase and attitude, and what is actually his personality. What are his strengths, what are his weaknesses. Getting to know a little human being, one who is completely raw and void of social masking, is a major task. For every observation we have made about Grayson,  John and I have given thought to our parenting style.

I wish parenting was simply figuring out your child and doing what is best for him or her. It's not that simple though. All the various thoughts and opinions on parenting make the job even tougher. Not only do you have to figure out your child, but you also have to sift through all the advice that circles around. One of the noises about parenting I have had to block out is the notion that American moms are lesser than other moms. There has been a surge in the media lately about the virtues of Asian and French mothers. At the risk of sounding like an obtuse American, I am perfectly pleased with being an American parent. I don't want to be a Tiger Mom and I don't need to be a French woman to raise my children well. Yes, our culture has some flat sides, and some of our children are not always up to par in certain situations, and there are absurd American parents out there, but I very much like being an American parent and I don't want to fix my parenting style to one that does not fit my children or our culture.

I was more than pleased, and I was extremely validated, when I read this article in the New York Times (and further discussed on Motherlode). Can you believe that the New York Times printed that it's okay to be an American mother? This is remarkable! Granted, it was an opinion column, but I'll take it. Not only did this article validate my ability to raise descent human beings, but it highlighted just how American I am. I am very American. I have known this about myself for a long time, but it is interesting to see that my nationality bleeds into my parenting as well. I have repeatedly joked that what I care about most for Grayson is that he exhibits social awareness. John and I turned down the opportunity for Lucy to go to a new state-of-the-art daycare facility because we felt like it focused too much on academia and not as much on independence and  socialization. It's not that I don't care about academia - our children are being raised by parents with a laundry list of degrees - but as a parent I feel like the academics will come in its own time. In effort to quickly excuse myself from conversations about education philosophies, I have made the statement that what I value most for my children is that enjoy what they are doing and have good social skills. In the past this statement has quickly ended the education conversation because it appears to be a completely different topic, but now I have come to find out it is just a method of American parenting.

Yes, our country has its faults and we are continually facing the facts of how we do not measure us to different parts of the world anymore, but at the end of the day I am very happy to be an American parent. My children may not be ever be world-ranked in anything, but hopefully they will be productive members of society and enjoy whatever it is that they do. If this is a weak form of parenting, oh well.

Thought-Provoking Thursday - A Stick in the Arm

When my employment dropped from full-time to part-time I lost my health insurance. Losing my insurance was not a huge deal; it just meant that I and the kids would be covered under John's insurance. The monthly rate of John's insurance was lower and the coverage seemed comparable, so we felt like we were getting a deal. Unfortunately, the hope of getting a deal on insurance quickly faded. Even though our monthly rate is lower, the co-pays are through the roof. I know this whining may seem insensitive, given that there are more folks than I know who are completely uninsured, but it's tough to have high co-pays with little children who need medicine and are at the doctor every month. The real kicker for me was the cost of birth control. I thought Obamacare ensured that women would receive free birth control? The co-pay I paid the other day was definitely not free.

I chose to use the pill as my form of birth control after Lucy was born because I am not a huge fan of having objects sitting inside of me, releasing hormones through my body. The monthly co-pay for the pill has me rethinking my opinions and considering implant options though. I was talking to one of my friends the other day and somehow birth control came up. She excitedly showed me her Implanon rod in her arm. I felt like I was witnessing some form of science fiction tracking device. It actually made me a little squeamish. As weird as it would be to have a plastic rod in my arm, it would save us hundreds of dollars. This dilemma of whether or not to take the plunge into birth control implants has been blocking my thoughts all week. It's been blocking my thoughts so much that it has made me forget to take the pill each day. Oy.

Have you used Implanon? What are you thoughts? Experiences?

Rule of Three

This morning I had my six-week postnatal check-up with the midwife. During my later prenatal appointments I was repeatedly asked how many children John and I plan on having. It seemed crazy to think about having a third child when I was just trying to prepare for the second child, but since we are fans of having our children close in age, it takes some early thinking and planning. The day I delivered Lucy the midwife again asked how many more children we plan to have. When I told her that we may stop at two she said, "Your body is a remarkable vehicle for birthing babies. You should have at least three kids!" What a good mantra - my body is a remarkable vehicle for birthing babies - but I have to wonder if the fact that I birth babies easily is good enough reason to parent another child?

The question of whether or not we will try to have more children has been rattling around in my head since Lucy was born. I have always imagined having a family with three children. I really like the dynamics of three children (family band!), but as reality of life has set in, the argument for only two children has seemed a little more valid. Some days I have been excited about the prospect of having another child. Other days I am ready to close up shop completely. Lately, though, I have consistently leaned towards wanting three children. Lucy feels like a middle child to me and our family feels full, but not complete. Now it's just a matter of John getting on board.

Do you have any arguments for or against having only two children? Having three children?

I've decided that if we have three children I would like to recreate these photos.

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Look at these hairdos! I would have to get professional help for this, especially since our children are bound to have fine hair. 

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Grayson kills a rabbit, to his sisters' complete dismay. 

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Very excited trio. Would they each be happier if they had only one sibling?

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Historical and cultural awareness.

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Now this is just plain fun. Can you believe these are carrots they are eating?

Morning Tradition

 We have an unspoken weekend tradition in our house. John is so gracious to get up with Grayson each morning, even when Grayson wakes up at an absurd time like 5:15 am. I am lucky enough each morning to stay in bed with Lucy while John keeps Grayson entertained. I usually feed Lucy while I listen to Grayson pitter patter - actually, gallop -  around the house. I try to stay as quiet as possible with Lucy. Each morning, as soon as Lucy or I begin to stir I hear "Baby!", followed by fast footsteps, and a moment later Grayson bursts through the bedroom door. On the weekends there is no morning rush, so Grayson climbs into bed next to his sister. The tradition has become that Grayson hands me my phone and asks that I take pictures of him and Lucy. This tradition leaves me with dozens of very similar-looking photos on my phone, but every photo is priceless to me. I don't know how long this tradition will last. I am certain I will miss it.