Beginnings of change

I have been doing a lot of reading lately. That's not a surprise, seeing as how I work in a library, but I've been reading a lot of a very specific type of book: parenting. Is that a surprise? Probably not. But part of the reason I've been reading so many parenting books is because I've decided to start my own private practice. I'm going to work with mothers, on enjoying being moms again.

There's a lot of blogs, websites, and books out there that poke fun at us. As we poke fun at ourselves. There's even more blogs, books and websites devoted to telling us what we're doing wrong, what we should be doing with our kids, how we should be raising them. But what every single book/website/well meaning stranger often fails to take into account is where WE are in OUR lives, what works for our children, what works for US does not necessarily work for everyone else.  And that's what I want to help moms with. I want to help sort out all the things that are getting bunched up, tied up in knots inside them. I want to help moms understand their own triggers, their own pasts, how they were raised, and how that all is affecting them now. I want to help moms enjoy being moms, enjoy their kids, enjoy this amazing journey that is motherhood.

I remember reading a quote somewhere that said something about how a mother is this new person who only arrives after her child is born. We have no idea how we're going to be as mothers until we are thrust into this role. I had a very different idea of mothering when I first learned I was pregnant with the owlet. I like to think I've come back to a lot of how I wanted to be, now that I've done some soul searching, read some books that I feel like actually spoke to me, stopped listening to stupid advice that didn't feel right.

Anyway. What was I talking about? I don't remember. (mom brain doesn't go away, does it?)

In the coming months you might find more posts about things I'm reading, about things I'm discovering in my own life that works really well with the Owlet. I hope it will inspire you to take a second look at what you're doing with your own families, to see what works and what doesn't.

For now I'm going to leave you with this little thought-provoker. In 5, 10 or 15 years, what do you envision for your child? What kind of life do you want them to have? What kinds of attributes do you want your teenager to possess? And are you working towards those now?

Accident Proof

Choking Hazards. Keeping shoes on outside. Making sure the metal slides (do they even make metal slides anymore?) aren't too hot. Don't let kids do X, don't let them do Y.

I saw this picture on pinterest today, and someone commented that whatever came out of it would be put in a child's mouth regardless of whether it was a toy or candy. Yeah, it probably would be, because that's part of how kids learn about their world. Could it be a choking hazard? Probably. So is it meant for a 6 month old to play with? No. Should it be used with adult supervision? Yes.

What happened to us? What happened to letting kids be kids? To trusting our intuition about what our kids can do/ can't do/ handle/can't handle?

(and who the heck am I, Mrs. Mama Owl, always the fearful, to be writing something like this?)

I have come to the realization that we are living in a culture of fear. We are so afraid of letting kids be kids, that we are holding them back. We are not letting them experience things because we are afraid of what might happen.

I am afraid too. I don't want the owlet to hurt. Ever. But he is going to hurt. He is going to trip, and he's going to fall. He's going to try to climb too high on a tree and he's going to get scrapes and cuts and bruises. And I know this. And I hope that he is going to be ok.

I am trying to love him deeply, to allow him to enjoy every single moment. While still keeping him safe. I'm standing back a little farther on the playground now. Letting him run a little freer. While still making sure he stays safe, of course. We still tell him, "that doesn't go in our mouths," but we don't yell and scream if a little bit of dirt, or a stick, or a crayon goes in his mouth.

I'm slowly learning to trust my intuition. To give the Owlet a little more space, to grow into the amazing boy I know he's going to be. To watch him make good choices, to learn what the rules are, to do things by himself.

And he's really such an amazing little guy, just as I knew in my heart he would be.

A conversation with a Toddler

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Me: Do you want snack?

Owlet: Nyo.

Me: Do you want to play?

Owlet: Nyo

Me: Do you want mommy help?

Owlet: Nyo

Me: Are you ready for a nap ?

Owlet: Nyo.

Me: Can you bring me the ball?

Owlet: Nyo.

*opening a container*

Owlet: Nyo.

*talking to himself*

Owlet: Nah. No. Nyo. Nyo nyo nyo.

The next several months are going to be sooo fun!

Mulling it over

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Ahhh mulling. If only those things we mulled in our minds came out tasting like cider. Or mulled wine.

I have been rolling quite the boulder around in my head for the past several days. Weeks? An extended amount of time, at least. I can't even roll it quickly, let it toss around up there, because it is just so big. So monumental. So....potentially, life changing.

Well, that's a little dramatic, isn't it?

You might have noticed that my posts recently have been a little bit...depressing. Because, well, I have been a little bit upset.

For some reason it has become harder and harder to leave the owlet everyday. And not just the days that I leave him with someone other than the hubs. Its hard on those days too. Maybe its because he's so fun right now. Maybe its because I don't like giving up control to other people. Maybe its that I see all these mommies at the library with their playgroups and their music classes and story times and I just feel jealous. Whatever it is, it's been eating away at me.

I finally sat down and talked with the hubs the other day as we took a nice long walk around the lake with the owlet, toddling along ahead of us, picking up every single stick he saw.

We talked about the possibility of me being a SAHM. How it would be hard at first, financially, but how we could make it work. (It's not like I'm really bringing in all that much right now, but is it enough that we can't get by without it?) We talked about what it would be like for me, home alone with the owlet, all day, everyday. But we also talked about how it wouldn't be forever. How this would give me the opportunity to do the groups for new mommies to process their birth stories. How this might even give the hubs time to work on what he wants to do with comics.

So many possibilities, with so many questions. So many unknowns. So much...scariness.

And so, the boulder still rolls about up there, in the old noggin. Giving me quite the headache, and not giving me any answers.

Raw edges

I've been feeling very raw lately.

Not rough around the edges, but raw. As if my nerves are exposed.

Simple little things make me well up and almost cry. Like a little boy who couldn't find his Gramma at the library the other day.

Or the sound of a baby crying.

Mostly, though, it's been my little owlet. All of his discoveries. The looks on his oh-so expressive face. The way he has suddenly begun patting us on the back when he hugs us with the sweetest little tap-tap-tap.

What IS this? Sleep deprivation? Worry over my ailing Grandfather? Sadness mixed with joy at my little guy who is growing up right in front of my eyes?

I honestly don't know. I've always been a bit of a weepy-Nelly, but this just seems over the top.

Hurting

I have a heavy heart tonight. I've had a heavy heart a lot of nights, but I'm usually able to shrug it off after a little while. Put sad thoughts out of my mind. But tonight, they're rolling around quite a lot.

A fellow September mommy had a very sad, scary thing happen to her son the other day, when he had an accident and now has burns covering 30% of his body. This little guy is the owlet's age. I can't get this image out of my head. I'm not going to go into details about what happened, because I just can't.

Just like I can't get the image out of my mind of a little 15 month old who had drowned in his bathtub.

It's just not fair. My heart hurts for these wonderful little beings who have terrible things happen to them.

My heart hurts for the kid who was told by his dad at the library that he is "such a mess, and makes a mess wherever he goes." Kids remember this stuff. It becomes who they are, even if just for a little while.

I got out of doing therapy because I couldn't hear terrible stories from kids anymore. And instead I hear terrible stories ABOUT kids. I had to leave a facebook group because I couldn't handle any more sad stories about kids. It breaks my heart.

I was telling the hubs tonight that I wish I could walk around like most of the people on the earth do, only caring about myself. But I can't.

I wish I could take in all these little lovelies who have had bad things happen to them, and make them better, but I can't do that either.

The most I can do is love on my little owlet with every fiber of my being. Provide him with the knowledge that he is safe and oh so loved.

And cry for the little ones who are hurting, who have been hurt, or who no longer have to hurt anymore.

Letter to the Owlet

My Dearest little Owlet,

It is hard to believe that you are almost 18 months. You have grown up so fast! Sometimes, I look at you and wonder, "who is this amazing, adventurous little boy?" You are so fun right now. You're studying everything, and so curious. You take your time when you're in a new situation, books call this "slow to warm" but when you've warmed up, look out!

You know so much right now, even if you don't say much. Your favorite word right now is "No" and you say it to anything and everything, even if you actually want to do it. You're very silly. You also love to say "go" and you say it with the sweetest little Canadian accent. I have no idea where you got that from!

Right now you're fascinated with shapes, and you love your shape sorter. It used to make you really frustrated, but you're becoming quite the pro at it. I love that you keep trying, even when you do get mad, although sometimes you do get too frustrated to keep going, and that's ok. You'll get it soon enough, I know. You've also discovered toilet paper rolls, and an empty egg carton can be the coolest toys ever. You love taking lids off of things, and putting them back on. You are discovering your world right now, and I love watching you discover it.

I hope in the coming months and years that I can help you discover so much more. The smell of pine trees in the sun. The way mud feels between your toes. The feel of the breeze near the ocean on your face.

I love you, my sweet, amazing little boy. Thanks for helping me to see the wonder in the everyday.

Love,

Mom