How Mothers Shower

I laughed so hard at this video...so true! 

What's missing is a part that describes How Mothers Shower.  Here's how that would look:

Around 11:45 am, realize husband is about to come home for lunch.  Glance in the mirror.  You look like crap.  Plop kids in front of TV to ensure relative safety while you hose down.  Lock all the doors.  Put up all the baby gates.  Order the kids not to open the door, answer the phone or touch anything.  Make them repeat it. 

Grab clothes from the dryer.  Slip on a puddle on the bathroom floor.  Turn on the water.  Shut off the water.  Go back to the kitchen and turn off the dishwasher, since you want an even water temperature during your shower.  Try again. 

Put your jammies (the flannel ones) into the separated hamper.  Sigh.  Take all the clothes out and put them back into the hamper in the right place.  Make a mental note to show the kids and the husband how neat and tidy the bathroom is when the hamper is used correctly. 

Step into the tub.  Grab the shower rod when you slip on an entire shampoo bottle's contents all over the bottom of the tub.  Rip down the shower curtain while trying to save yourself.  Tread carefully.

Grab a cloth.  Look for the soap.  Try and salvage all the little bitty pieces on the edge of the tub leftover from the kids' game of "Make Barbie Soap".  Give up.  Rub the bottom of the tub with the cloth and use the leftover shampoo instead.

Stick your head out the curtain (what's left of it).  Yell, "WHAT ARE YOU KIDS DOING?"  Don't believe the, "Nothing!!"  Yell back, "I CAN SEE YOU!!"  Smirk satisfactorily when you hear them scamper back to the couch.

Wet hair.  Grab shampoo.  Lather, rinse, don't repeat.

Open the peanut butter jar that the 4 year old just stuck through the curtain.

Look for your razor.  Find it next to a bald Barbie doll.  Skip it.  Make a mental note to put razors on the shopping list.

Yell, "WHAT ARE YOU KIDS DOING?" again, for good measure.  Step back and trip over the naked 2 year old who decided a shower sounded like fun.  Sigh.  Hose him off. 

Shut off the water. Puzzle at the silence from the other room.

Get out of the tub.  Grab the only towel and dry off the kid.  Do your best to dry yourself with the wet towel. 

Write "razors" on the steamy mirror.  Write "Tylenol" as an afterthought.  Write "liquor" as a joke.  Well, not a funny joke.

Start dressing the kid, back into his old clothes.  Shiver, since you're still wet.  Pull on your own clothes.  Realize you took 2 shirts out of the dryer, instead of 1 shirt and pants.  Make a run for the dryer, again.  On the way to the laundry room, trip over the toys, crayons and books that weren't all over the floor when the shower began.  Evidently the kids didn't stay on the couch like they were supposed to.

Pick up the baby for some much needed cuddles.  Get spit up on.  Decide paper towel will work just as well as a shower to clean up with.  Answer the door bell to let the husband in, since you forgot to unlock the doors and dismantle the baby gates. 

Decide to "go green" and save water with monthly showers (worked in the middle ages!).  It's the only way to save the earth, AND your sanity.

The "I Can't" vs "I Won't"

I thought this blog post was very interesting. I live in an area where breastfeeding rates are quite low. As a doula, many women come to me with a desire to "learn" how to breastfeed, or to "fix" whatever isn't working. It's always so hard to find the right way and the right words to help. The same applies to birthing vaginally, and especially naturally (by natural, I mean without meds).

When a woman comes to me for help, naturally, I do my best to support and give information. However, it's so incredibly tricky to say and do the right things without hurting a mom's feelings or damaging her already shaky self-confidence (remember, I work with moms who are going through a huge hormone and life change). Even trickier is when I am faced with the reality that telling my story of successful VBAC, HBAC and breastfeeding relationship - including overcoming weeks of breastfeeding pain and frustration, and months of post-partum depression - makes other women feel angry and guilty. When you go through something so difficult and come through the other side in one piece, you want to celebrate and tell people, "I did it!!" But, I guess every personal victory can be taken as a personal attack. I wish it wasn't that way, but, it is.

I digress. The blog is about the difference between women who can't and those who won't. The comments are really interesting, too, where some women who didn't breastfeed voice their opinions. What I've taken from it is the importance of supporting women from every walk - those who can, those who will, those who try, those who do their best, and those who choose not to as well.

What I'd like to know, Blog Readers, is how does a doula and fellow mother do that? If you have struggled with breastfeeding, what was most helpful to you? What was least helpful? Did you feel put down by anyone, and why? How could you have been helped better? Leave a comment!

And So This Is It...

How is it that even after 3 other pregnancies, I forgot about the third trimester? My body, my mind and my emotions are in full rebel mode. I am going through that normal pregnancy phase where I am getting ready to finally let this baby out. I am bonding with this child, spending more time sitting and "listening" to it. My body is stretching, gaining bulk, and being uncooperative with those every day movements I must do - bending, reaching, sleeping and crouching to play with the kids are becoming things of the past. I'm easily bothered, annoyed and disappointed with everything. Everyone. I have no patience, it seems. I just don't want to do anything, yet I want to do everything. I had come to a point in my life where I had made peace with myself and my life situation. Not anymore.

I feel like a lioness - on the prowl, pacing, batting at her cubs because they want to chase her tail, ready to chase down some poor little antelope and snap it's neck. Hey, you've gotta eat, right? But, maybe I'll just lie here in the sun until it passes.

And, it will. In a couple months this baby will be born. I will be at times ecstatic, at times weepy and sad, sometimes angry. Often I won't know what I am. Give me a year and I'll be myself - or a new version of myself. For now, I'll just take it one breath at a time and be thankful that waking days are only 16 hours long. I can take it for that long.

Alcohol and Breastfeeding

I found this at the Burlington Coat Factory. I admit, I laughed so hard, and then kind of went "hmmm..." and couldn't resist taking a picture.



The writing is a little hard to read, but this box contains 3 strips designed to test for alcohol in your breast milk. I think it sold for about $7.00 USD.

I can understand why some women would want to be extra cautious after a night of partying it up, but rather than rely on a test strip, a bit of common sense might do just as well.

Here's a link to some good info on breastfeeding and drinking alcohol. Basically, an occasional drink isn't a big deal. Alcohol transfers to the baby in amounts equal to what's in your bloodstream. If your alcohol level is at the legal limit of .08, then baby is basically drinking a cooler.

My biggest worry about breastfeeding and drinking alcohol is knowing what you, as a mom, can handle. Some women (and men) see nothing wrong with binge drinking, and drink for the purpose of getting a buzz. Some get a thrill from the "smashed" feeling, and drink with that goal in mind. For the love of your baby, be careful! If you have to care for an infant, you need your wits about you. Just as you wouldn't put your baby in the care of a drunk babysitter, don't be the caretaker if you are not "all there". If you come home in a questionable condition, splurge and keep the sitter overnight. Don't take chances. Although the baby might not get very much alcohol from your breastmilk, it will not be safe if your judgement is impaired, you can't walk straight (let alone carry it) or if you pass out.

Putting the Kids to Work!

I'm a stay-at-home-mom, and because I'm a SAHM I often fall into the trap of feeling sorry for myself and the mountain of housework I do everyday. The problem isn't even so much the amount I do, but that the kids go behind me and un-do all the work. After all, cleaning my house while the kids are small is like shoveling the walk before it stops snowing.

But then I realized that I was doing it wrong. I wasn't using all the natural resources I have in my home. What natural resources, you ask? My children! Children are, after all, our nation's most precious resource. So I'm learning to delegate.

For example, you don't have to be big to help around the house. My two year old is a fantastic picker-upper. Toddlers can easily handle throwing their toys into a basket, and all they need as a reward is lots of cheering and hand clapping.

They're also great at throwing things into the garbage....scraps of food, wrappers, cell phones, etc. Careful with this one!

Kids love to help in the kitchen. Depending on the age and maturity of your kids, you can show them how to peel veggies (with a peeler). If you trust your kid to be responsible, you can even show them how to use a paring knife. Obviously, some kids are ready for this and some aren't. If your 5 year old can't sit still and has a habit of waving his hands when he talks, then cutting veggies isn't the chore for him. In Maddie's case, she can handle that. Eva, not so much. Graedy, definetly NOT!!

YOU MUST TAKE THE TIME TO TEACH THE SAFETY RULES AND NOT TO WIMP OUT ABOUT ENFORCING THEM!!!! THIS IS A ZERO-TOLERANCE FOR NONSENSE CHORE!!!



If they aren't quite to the peeling and cutting chore, they will definetly enjoy stirring and cleaning up icing bowls.



Kids love this next chore. All you need is a sock and non-breakable items. Show them how to run your socked hand over tabletops, windowsills, TV screens and you'll have the dusting done in no time. You might have to do the higher furniture and photo frames but it keeps them busy and they'll gradually get taller.



I showed Maddie (almost 6) how to do laundry. She loves it! It's a multi-step chore, but fairly simple. The first step is explaining that you need to separate the clothes by colour. It helps if you have this kind of gadget:



Then, you show how to load the washer by colour, adjust the settings, pour in the soap and ta-da! Clean clothes! If you have a lot of delicates or dry-clean only clothing, then you'll need to be extra diligent.

Obviously, use your common sense. Some things kids can handle, and some things they can't.

Good kid chores = sock dusting, folding facecloths and towels, watering plants, clearing their spot at the table, feeding the cat, sweeping the deck, etc.

Bad kid chores = stocking the furnace, chopping wood, bathing the baby alone, changing the oil in the car, washing knives, etc.

Chores that need extra help and supervision (and you MUST USE YOUR JUDGEMENT DEPENDING ON THE KID) = cutting soft fruits and veggies, peeling veggies, loading dishwasher, doing dishes (glass, knives, food poisoning, etc), cooking, babysitting, etc.

Good luck and use those resources!

Being Still

It was early morning. Graedon and I were at the table and the girls were sleeping in, tired from a late night of visiting with Grammy and Grampy. It had snowed during the night, and the first rays of the sun were peeking through the curtains. Thoughts flitted through my mind, and I remembered an article (several, actually) about encouraging your child's speech and language development and raising his IQ by talking to him at all times about anything and everything. I thought about it, trying to figure out how to start a conversation about toast, blueberry jam, coffee, sunrises, my kitchen decor...but I said nothing.

Instead, I watched my son. I took in the way he used his spoon, brow furrowed in concentration as he very carefully brought his cereal to his mouth without dropping a single flake. I enjoyed the way he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. I loved his gaze out the window at the world waking up on the front lawn. I smiled at how his face brightened every time a vehicle went by on the road (especially the big trucks!). We sat in silence and enoyed each other's company.

It is important to speak to your children, but it's also important to respect their moods and encourage their individual thinking. Personally, I don't like conversation at breakfast. I like quiet. I wake up slowly. I am often mulling over my night's dreams, and the expectations I have of the day. I don't want to assume that my children want to listen to my bantering constantly. With quiet comes the opportunity to meditate - something we don't take the time to do nearly enough.

Sometimes, it's good to be still.

My Little Shadow

My Maddie is so much like me. We get comments all the time when we are out; "My does she ever look like you!" and "We can all tell who's kid she is!". I've begun to notice just how much she is like me on the inside, though.

She is so curious. She loves to learn. She loves to read and listen to stories. She has a thirst to understand and she questions everything. She wants to know about other countries, and how people live in other cultures.

We watched Out of Africa together. During the lion scenes, she exclaimed, "Mom! I want to SEE lions for real. I don't want to see it on TV, I don't want to see a movie, I want to see it in Africa! I want to go to Africa, Mom!" This isn't the first time she's asked to go to Africa. I told her to save her pennies and maybe we could go together.

When I returned from Nicaragua, she was very certain that she wanted to go there, too. She still mentions it every once in a while. She wants to be able to see the ocean, and the volcanoes. She thought that if she kept all her pennies, she'd be able to afford to go to Nicaragua when she is 8 yrs old. After I told her how much it would cost, she decided to save up for a pet rabbit instead.

Pet rabbit or Nicaragua...hmmmm...it's a tough one!

Watching her is like watching a revelation. God gave me this child because I am the best mother for her. He could have given her to any of the other millions of women out there, but he chose me. I'm thankful for that.