My final Ten Thoughts Tuesday post is addressing respect.
1. Respect is something that come to the forefront of my mind since having children.
2. Regular readers will know that the lack of respect my mother-in-law shows me as a mother (and Multidaddy as a father) is one of the reasons our relationship is somewhat strained.
3. And whether it’s having children, or just getting older, I now also demand respect from people I associate with.
A long time ago (it seems) I was suffering from post-natal depression and overwhelmed by becoming a mum of twins.
And the most terrifying thing to me was the endlessness and relentlessness of parenting – that unlike a job, course, friendship….this wasn’t something that I could just quit.
This blog challenge enters it’s eighth week! Another Tuesday and another Ten Thoughts Tuesday post.
Here are this week’s musings:
1. This is going to be a random post as it’s almost midnight!
2. Parenting has changed my conversation.
3. Instead of discussing Italy’s political stalemate, this evening I found myself having an in-depth discussion on society’s messages to our children.
My mother-in-law came to visit the other day. Regular readers will know that she can’t help but interfere. Probably with the best of intentions, but still.
In this instance what attracted her criticism was the BabyBoy and BabyGirl did not seem to like the quiche I’d made for their lunch. I wasn’t concerned – they were eating other things – and we have been doing baby-led weaning so I’m keen to let them choose foods.
Nothing would do but for mother-in-law to make another dish for BabyBoy and BabyGirl. It most certainly was not necessary and I didn’t want her to but I decided to be polite and let her get on with it. Whatever.
Now my mother-in-law cannot speak much English. I also know that her views on child-rearing are different from ours. So I asked Multidaddy to remind her not to put salt in the food. Continue reading
To have a giggle:
In the great green-certified room
There was a smartphone
And a silver spoon
And a picture of—
A high-contrast, brain-stimulating black-and-white moon
And there was a musical concert by Baby Mozart
And high window guards
And French flash cards
And a fireplace safety gate
And toys without phthalate
And a sterilizer and bottle brush and bowl full of organic mush
And a bilingual nanny who was whispering “hush”
Love this. I’ve only recently really been understanding how much I get out of motherhood, rather than bemoaning what I have to put in.
My schedule meant leaving my wife and son, for half the week. I spent a lot of time in preparation, thinking about the soccer practices which I would miss. I thought about the parent days at school from which I would be AWOL. I thought about my manful (there is no better adjective) attempts at affecting some sort of equitable split in the chores. And I thought about the emotional absence. In other words, before I left for the semester I spent a great deal of time considering what my absence would mean to my family. But I spent almost no time considering what the absence of my family would mean to me.The error of my ways became apparent roughly a day after I left. It was really a kind of unexpected awful. I have long thought of fatherhood and partnership in terms of duties, in terms of what…
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I came across this article – have a read, it’ll make you feel better.
I’ve gotten a lot of emails from women saying they feel overwhelmed by motherhood. Not in a dangerous way, just in a “I totally suck and I don’t know how I’m supposed to manage all this” kind of way.
To this I say, you’re not supposed to.
If you think about it, if you had a baby thousands, if not hundreds of years ago, you would have had your mother, all your sisters (all of whom were probably lactating), and your nieces all taking care of your baby. They would help with food preparation, show you how to manage, and make sure your baby wasn’t eaten by a bear. Your kid’s feet probably wouldn’t have touched the ground until they themselves would be able to carry around an infant.
Back then the point of a child was to have free labour in the fields and someone to take care of your old ass down the road, and not much more.
As for the past generations that like to tell you that they raised six kids on their own and did it without a washing machine? Well, sort of. Keep in mind child rearing was viewed pretty differently not that long ago and you could stick a toddler on the front lawn with just the dog watching and nobody would bat an eye at it – I used to walk to the store in my bare feet to buy my father’s cigarettes when I was a kid. As a mother, you cooked, you cleaned, but nobody expected you to do anything much more than keep your kids fed and tidy.
My grandmother used to tell the story about how she forgot my mother at the grocery store in the early 40s. She walked up to the store with my mother sleeping in her carriage, parked it outside with all the other sleeping babies (I’ll let that sink in), went inside to do her shopping, then walked home forgetting that she’d taken the baby with her. She quickly realized her mistake and walked back and retrieved my mother who was still sleeping outside the store.
Routines are great and, with twins, I would say essential.
My life revolves around BabyBoy and BabyGirl’s routine – when they need to eat and sleep and play. Now they are a bit more flexible as they’re almost a year, but particularly in months 3 – 9 things were tightly organized and I was always always trying to be ready for the next thing.
When I took the babies ‘home’ to visit my parents and sisters overseas for several weeks at 6 months, I was in hyper-organized mode. There was a system, and it just could not break down (partly a symptom of my PND, but mostly because I knew the chaos that would result if things like feeds were not ready on time). I planned and planned and planned. Everything was bought in advance. Areas of the house were rearranged to accommodate cots, changing tables, playmats, highchairs. I sent copies of the daily routine out via email before we arrived. I arranged for a nanny to come for a few hours every morning to help so that I could get some sleep, and a cleaner to come in twice a week so that my mum could spend more time with the babies instead of housework. The only downtime I had was an hour after the babies went to bed and I had finished preparing for the next day.
And I have just learned that I was classified as a mean b***h by two of my sisters. Apparently I was not considerate when asking them to help (particularly at dinner and bathtime, different tasks were carried out by different people) and barked orders.
When you’re faced with a squalling newborn and you have no idea why the poor thing is crying, you would be forgiven for thinking that ‘maternal instinct’ is another myth that your real life has just exploded.
But although it took me a few months I am now convinced that mother (or whoever the primary caregiver is) really does know best.
This knowledge is not, however, instinct. Maternal instinct might make you love and protect baby, but it doesn’t decode your baby’s cries or teach you how to soothe. That, I have found, comes with simply spending time with baby and learning what each of the cries mean. It’s not a physical or hormonal thing, it’s a mental, learned process. So when you give birth you don’t suddenly have all this knowledge to hand, and you shouldn’t feel inadequate if you don’t ‘just know’ what to do.
I recently started writing about grandparents and new parents. However, as my mother-in-law has come to visit yet again, and our relationship continues to evolve, I’m now starting ‘The Grandparent Files’ – a collection of thoughts, ideas and (hopefully few) rants on dealing with the grandparents – that build on those lessons I’ve already posted about. Continue reading
afterninemonths 