A Good Mother

(This is my first and possibly last post with pictures. Allie Brosh, I don't know how you do it.)

Am I a good mother?

Well...probably not.

But I'm not a bad mother.

I remember to change my son's diapers, feed him, keep him relatively clean, play with him, keep him from killing/seriously injuring himself, put him down for naps and to bed at reasonable times, and take care of him when he's sick or hurt. That's the important stuff, but it feels like the bare minimum. And that's kind of not a fair description. Those things I listed make up pretty much every minute of every day of my life for the last year. If it's not one thing, it's another. Sure, I have breaks to go on Facebook or write these blogs or occasionally clean my house or catch a nap or, you know, shower, but for the most part it's a constant job.

I've heard a lot of people talk about how stay-at-home moms are underappreciated, and I think we do a lot of it to ourselves. We view what we do every day as a bare minimum. I'm guilty of it.

I could make my own baby food! Because making your own baby food is healthier because you know what goes in it!

I would just like to note that "knowing what goes into your body" and "having healthy things go into your body" are NOT the same thing.

I could have continued to try to breastfeed for longer than one month!

He wouldn't eat. He developed bottle preference in the special care nursery. He was six weeks earlier and they often have trouble latching on properly, and with the amount of weight he needed to gain, a bottle was always more practical.

Still, I can't quite conquer the guilt over not doing it for longer.

I could lose my baby weight!

I see lots of moms who don't even look like they've had babies, and that's intimidating. I wasn't thin before, but I was a lot thinner than I am now, and I've actually gained weight since I had Calvin. I hear this is pretty common. Moms aren't able/don't have the energy to take care of themselves, because they're constantly taking care of a baby. This isn't so much a responsibility to the baby as it is to myself or my husband or the people around me, but I do feel like it's something that's expected of me that I'm not living up to.

These are not the only places where I'm insecure that I'm failing. I compare my parenting strategies to other moms. Is it bad that I comfort my child when he falls down? Is it bad that I leave my child in a diaper during the day any day I don't leave the house? Is it bad that my child has had eczema since he was three months old, and I can't isolate the cause or find anything to fix it? Is it bad that I do, occasionally, feed my child later than his schedule simply because I forget? Is it bad that he sometimes finds his way into dangerous things or hurts himself because I wasn't paying close enough attention? Is it bad that I let him cry, or worse if I pick him up every time he cries? I don't think anyone can answer those questions for me, but I also don't think anyone can convince me that everything I do is great, because I know better.

I Didn't Think That Was Dangerous

See that drawer over there? And that toy laptop? And that door? And that cabinet? And that toilet seat? All of those things can be classified as "finger traps."

I've done a good job of childproofing most of the house. There's a gate around the whole TV area, and locks on the cabinets with hazardous materials in them. Most of the doors stay closed, and the trash and recycling are both in lidded containers. There are outlet covers on every plug that isn't in use (and most of the ones that are live behind gates or under desks or out of baby reach). Notice how often I use "most"? It becomes necessary to qualify after your child shuts his finger in the one drawer he can still reach, and then just screams because he can't figure out that he's the one who did it. Or when you're trying to load or unload the dishwasher, and because you've made your life easier by removing the gate into the kitchen and locking the cabinets, your child comes crawling in, pulls up on the open dishwasher, and grabs A KNIFE. Of all the things in the dishwasher that he could have grabbed, he goes for a knife. Does this bode well for our future?

We're watching They Might Be Giants: Here Comes Science, and the song that's on right now is "Davy Crockett in Outer Space." Calvin seems to appreciate it (he actually sits still for the Elements song) but more than that, I appreciate it. These CD/DVD combos are actually his birthday present--which is why I haven't opened the ABCs and 123s yet--but it's nice to have the DVD to play at home and the CDs for the car. Combine this with the Nerdy Baby flashcards, the planets on the wall, and...oh dear God, the fact that my child just raised his hand and inadvertently did the "Live long and prosper" gesture from Star Trek...and I think we're going to end up with either a super-nerdy kid or one who rebels violently against it. There's no possibility for middle ground. I'm hoping for a two-year-old who says he wants to be a paleontologist. Especially because then I have an excuse to hit up the Museum of Natural History as often as possible.

A few weeks ago when I was home, a friend of mine took photos of Calvin that I'm considering his first birthday photos (even though there was nothing birthday related in them and he was only 11 months old). They're absolutely beautiful and the above is one of the shots. I can't wait to get the high-res images--she includes a CD with all her sessions, which alone makes it worth it. Anyone in the NC/SC area who has any need for photography services, please check out her website: Caroline Jackson Photography.

In Case the World Ends Tomorrow

Dear Calvin,

If the world ends tomorrow, you may be screwed because you're not getting baptized until next month. But know that I thought really hard about it. And if you're stuck here, I want to be too, because you really aren't very good at taking care of yourself.

On Sunday you will be ELEVEN. MONTHS. OLD. You are HUGE. You want to eat all the time. You can call me "mama" now and seem to know that's my name. You want to be able to stand up (and you do, sometimes, for a moment, before you lose your balance and do a butt drop). You are growing two more teeth and are about to lose those adorable little fangs, and that makes me so sad. I loved having a little vampire baby.

I don't actually believe that anything is going to happen tomorrow, but let's take this opportunity to talk about it. First, the gentleman who claims to know that tomorrow is Judgement Day previously predicted that it would happen in 1994. As you can probably guess, it didn't. Many other folks have predicted the Second Coming on many other dates, and it still hasn't happened. There's no reason to believe that this one is any different. And here's the lesson to be learned from this: you can't trust people who claim to speak to God. Sure, I know there's Bible stories about people who talked to God, and that's cool, but most of the time those people are, for lack of a better term, BATSHIT CRAZY. I will be sorely disappointed if you end up joining a cult, or Scientology, and really confused if you start claiming to be the Messiah. If you are the Messiah, you can stop trying to choke me with my necklaces and pulling my hair out, because that is NOT Christlike behavior.

Also, can we discuss this whole moving around thing? You crawl fast, and you pull up on everything, and that can result in some pretty scary falls. Like when you pulled the baby gate over onto your face. And when you fell off the bed at your great-grandmother's house. Okay, that one was my fault for falling asleep with you on the bed, but you flail in your sleep, I don't care what my mother says, and that is DANGEROUS.

I'm cleaning up the kitchen and hiding the recyclables so you have another area to explore. I'm also going to have to post the number for Poison Control for when we inevitably forget to lock the cabinet and find you sitting among a bunch of bottles of toxic chemical cleaners (that I love to use because there's something about that astringent smell that just screams CLEAN) and we won't know if you drank them or just chewed on the nozzles, and we'll have to call and be Those Parents, and then the baby gate will go back up and your father will trip on it again and it will just be a huge long-term disaster. But isn't making ill-advised and potentially irresponsible decisions what being a parent is all about?

Love you, baby,

Mama

Problems I Had with Toy Story 3

As an English major, I analyze things. I've seen any number of jokey infographics declaring that English teachers read way too much into things and that sometimes an author just meant that the paint on a wall was blue, whatever, get over it. That's fine, and I know I will probably read too much into things for the rest of my life, and now that I have a child I have more reason to do it with children's literature and film. So we watched Toy Story 3 a few weeks ago.

First, if you don't want to read spoilers, just stop reading here. It had been a while since I saw Toy Story 1 and 2 so I refreshed my memory on what exactly happened in them and, as a sequel and an end to a series, Toy Story 3 is totally fine. I like that they used the same voice actor for Andy in all three movies, I loved the ending, Bonnie was one of the cutest kids ever, and her toys were awesome in all kinds of ways. My problems all stemmed from the daycare element of the movie.

In case you hadn't noticed, Calvin's not in daycare. That's partly because we're lucky enough that he doesn't have to be, and partly because I'm a little panicky about the idea of leaving him with strange people in a strange place where I can't be with him. I have nothing against daycare as a concept--it's necessary and many are great, and I'll likely be utilizing one in the future. So here's the problems I had with this movie and this setting.

1. It's freaking scary. The toys sneak off to daycare, they meet the pink teddy bear who runs shit, they see the older kids playing peacefully with toys, and then they end up in the toddler room where they get absolutely demolished by these crazy two year olds. Not only that, but Lotso Huggin' Bear is pretty evil, and he never experiences the recognition that many villains do, especially in children's movies. Instead, he meets an unpleasant fate as a grill decoration on a truck. It's messed up. There is danger in the first two Toy Story movies--from the kid who wants to blow up the toys, to the collector's item who tries to take Woody from his friends--but this is a darker kind of nemesis, with conspiracy theories and outright meanness. It's more shadowy and I guess it makes sense that as the movies grow up, the dangers do too, but it even made me a little uncomfortable.

2. The idea that toys can only be played with as they're meant to be played with. This one gets tricky, so hear me out. Bonnie has a tea party with her toys and turns a dolly into a witch. She uses her imagination and plays with the toys creatively but respectfully. Cool. The two year olds in the Caterpillar room at the daycare smack the toys into railings, shove pieces up their noses, and paint using Jessie's hair. This is depicted as hurting the toys. I can remember multiple times that I played with my toys in fairly destructive ways as a child, and seeing the toys' reactions might make me think twice about it, if I had the capacity for reason, which a two year old lacks in large amounts. I also understand that many of the toys are listed as "for ages 3 and up." That's fine, but this is a recurring issue; Sid in the first movie takes his toys apart and rebuilds them into monstrosities. Instead of looking at this as a kind of cool scientific experiment, it's seen as Frankenstein-like and wrong.

3. The guilt trip. Kids, at some point you will be too old for your toys. That just happens. You don't have to hang on to them forever, and you don't have to feel bad about them going to someone who'll play with them. Andy ends up giving his whole toybox to Bonnie, which is great, but not everyone knows a Bonnie. There's nothing wrong with donating toys to daycare. Kids in daycare love those toys, however they play with them. They don't have to be kept pristine in an attic forever.

Anyway, I didn't like the movie that much, but maybe Calvin will. It's the first Pixar movie that I haven't gone head over heels for, EVER, so with a track record like that I'll keep going to see them. Plus, it was pretty, and you can't argue with that.

Not the Same

Brandon has introduced me to his coworkers, who are an awesome bunch of people. We've been hanging out with them occasionally, and as I'm starting to expand my social circle--to get to meet people and have interactions--it makes it suck a lot less up here. He also found out that the company is moving to a new location, because they don't have all the safety regulations met in their current buildings, so it gives us a reason to move out of this apartment complex when our lease is up. We were kind of looking for one anyway.

I'm looking at using my first paycheck from Sylvan to get my next tattoo--the Calvin and Hobbes one:

I don't know what it'll cost, but I'm excited and I picked an artist and this is HAPPENING. It's been two years since I got the turtle, which is small and hurt a lot. This one will be bigger (and probably hurt a lot). I like tattoos. I have the one after this picked out too, and from there...well, we'll see.

April 22, 2011

Dear Calvin,

Today you are ten months old, and I nearly forgot to do this letter. I've already written about all the things you've learned to do, like standing up and cruising, but you're so damn cute that I can't put it into words. Sometimes you just sit there and talk to yourself and then look up at me and grin with all four teeth showing, and it melts my heart because it makes me so happy.

It's getting harder to write these letters because I don't know what to say that I haven't already. This month we got to know some of Brandon's coworkers, including Chris and Kaitlin, whom you adore. I don't understand it; Chris is like a baby whisperer or something, and Kaitlin doesn't even mind it when you drool on her. We've lucked out meeting people who like babies. And I'm glad you're so good at being social, because it makes things a lot easier.

Anyway, I love you a whole lot, and I promise I'll try to think of more things to say next month.

Love, Mama

Dangerous Thinking

When it comes to politics, I find myself on the liberal side of things a lot of the time, especially regarding social issues. I voted for Obama and I don't regret that decision. I will probably vote for him again next November. I usually dislike Republican philosophies and policies, but I don't always agree with Democrats and as such am registered as unaffiliated. And I need to learn, above all else, to keep my mouth shut and not get involved. That makes me sad. Let me explain why.

I am not a person who seeks out confrontation. In fact, I avoid it at all costs. Anytime I try to get involved in political discussion--even just to offer a simple opinion--it leads to confrontation, people being angry, spouting their own opinions (reasoned or otherwise, but almost always vitriolic), and stressing me out. The problem is that I want to contribute to these discussions, I want to feel confident enough in my thoughts to engage in debate without shutting down and abandoning them. But the fervor with which people defend their opinions, with no regard for whether they're right or justified, scares me off. And so, I need to stop talking about it.

There are no right or wrong answers in politics. There is no way to say who's right or wrong except in hindsight. Even then it's murky. So I don't feel that I have the right to degrade someone else's opinion. If things turn personal or mean, I leave the conversation. It limits what I can do in a debate. So from here on out, I'm resolving to keep my thoughts to myself, not share them on facebook, not post about them on here, not discuss them in person. It's going to be hard and I'm probably going to fail, but I'm going to make a concerted effort.

If you're still reading, I commend you, and I would like to share with you the fact that Calvin is standing up against EVERYTHING: