On Feeling Invalidated

I've been noticing in the last couple of weeks that there seems to be a culture of "you have no idea what you're doing until you're in it" among parents. No one's said anything directly to me to cause me to think this, so I may be reading into things, but if you look around in the media, books, and sometimes what people say, it's there. It bothers me.

It makes me feel like my opinions about my child and how I want to raise him don't matter until I've already done it. Like having a game plan is a bad thing.

I became a mom when I had Penny. She may have only been with us for a few days, and she may have spent most of her life in the care of nurses, but she made me a mom. This boy growing in my belly is my second child. I may not have any children at home, but I've been a mom since November of 2012.

I see lots of complaints about how people without kids have no idea how much their life will change when they become parents. Their lives are not their own, their time is not their own, and so on. I know this. I've been a full-time nanny since August of 2012. I'm quite familiar with the struggle of keeping a house clean, of having fair and effective discipline, of transitions, of safety, of spending all day on what THEY want and THEY need, of not being able to hardly use the bathroom without interruption, of feeding the gospel into them on a daily basis, and so on. In those situations, I feel like I've had enough experience to merit an opinion on those things.

I know I don't know everything. I don't pretend I do. I'm a nanny 9-5 on weekdays, so I don't know what it's like to have a bedtime routine. I don't know what it's like when your child wakes up sick in the middle of the night. I don't know how it changes and challenges a marriage. I don't know what the sleeplessness of midnight feedings is like. I don't know the financial burdens. I don't know what it's like to coordinate holidays between in-laws. There are so many things I don't know that I can't count them, or anticipate them all. I know that. So I don't comment on them, except to repeat what experienced mothers have told me. I do listen where wisdom is to be gained.

Having a plan isn't a bad thing. Having experience isn't a bad thing. When you start a new job, it's expected that you'll have experience as well as learn on the job. It feels like parenting is one of the few areas where previous experience can be totally negated. "Oh, but it won't be the same when it's your own kids. Just you wait." Maybe. I do expect it will be emotionally very different when I'm taking care of my own children. But that doesn't mean that I won't be drawing from my past experience of taking care of this other family of boys I love.

Maybe I am being naive. Maybe everything I know about taking care of children is wrong. Maybe my entire outlook on child-rearing and family life will change the moment that I change my baby's first diaper. But I doubt it. Yes, things will be different, and yes, I expect things to evolve as we go along. But that doesn't mean my opinions and experience now don't count.

***

Sorry for the rant. On the upside, I have my next ultrasound this Wednesday. Here are some stats:
He is now seventeen weeks along.
He is approximately the size of a turnip (about 5 inches long, crown to rump).
Mommy has been starting to go to the gym again. We want to gain healthy pounds!
Mommy and Daddy haven't decided on a name yet.
About twenty-three weeks to go, about 120 days down.

The Difference Between Boys and Girls

I was thinking back to my time working in the day care, and I remembered an incident that made me both reflect and laugh out loud all at once.

I with two other adults was supervising about fifty elementary age kids on the day care playground one day. Suddenly, three girls came running up to me, all upset. After about five or ten minutes, I was able to sort out that someone was hit by someone else's shoe. One girl was angry because she thought a friend threw a shoe at her. Another girl was hurt because she said she didn't throw it, it fell off when she was on the swings. Other girls gathered around and took sides. A few girls chimed in who didn't even see the incident. They "cliqued up" as naturally as breathing. It literally became sister against sister, friend against friend.

After about fifteen minutes or so of trying to sort this out, two boys ran by and this conversation took place:

Boy 1: "He hit me!"

Me: "Say you're sorry!"

Boy 2: "Sorry!"

That was it. They didn't even slow down from running.

After that, I probably spent another five minutes or so working with the girls before they were satisfied.

So what does this mean about the difference between boys and girls? I'm not sure. Maybe boys of that age let things roll off their back. Maybe they put having fun and friendship before their feelings. Maybe girls care so much about friendship that they will defend each other over the simplest offense. Maybe girls thrive on drama and boys don't. Maybe it's an isolated incident and doesn't mean anything about little boys and girls.

I just hope one day I'm blessed enough to raise both.

Slow Down and Enjoy the Ride

About a month ago I read this article written by a mom who one day had her eyes opened to the damage she was doing to her precious "stop-and-smell-the-roses type of child" with two small words: hurry up.

Wow. This beautifully written, love-inspired article made me realize how often I used the same words with one of the boys I nanny.

I love that all the boys I take care of are so different. The eldest loves structure, learning, leading, and reading. The youngest is a great communicator, even at five months old. The middle brother is silly, tends to float slowly from activity to activity, and often exists in his own little dress-up world.

The problem occurs when I'm watching the clock because in the next five minutes we need to finish eating lunch, use the bathroom, get on our shoes, get buckled into the car, and go so that we can meet his mom for the baby's lunch and then immediately go pick up big brother from school; but the middle child is lazily munching his carrots, making them talk and dance, and telling jokes at the pace of half a bite per minute.

This is where my sin comes into the foreground. I am a person who thrives in routine, and being on time is my platform for that. Being a nanny, though, isn't about me. It is so beautiful that this family can have such different personalities. It's great that this boy can be so stress-free and enjoy his time as a child. Who am I to put my need to be punctual before his need to be himself?

Now that the eldest is in school most mornings, I have been able to rearrange our daily schedule to accommodate his individual pace. We forgo the morning snack and instead eat lunch earlier. Instead of structured activities in the morning, he can free play at his own pace or create a craft from his own imagination. Instead of planning little lessons, I take his teachable moments as they come. We save the structured learning and activities for when all three boys are home together. He still gets the same amount of attention, learning, and variety of activities, but he also doesn't have to hear me nag at him to be faster.

I'm not perfect at it, and sometimes I do still need to tell him to hurry and put on his shoes. I've realized that it shouldn't be my my sinfulness admonishing him, though. Sometimes God puts certain children in our lives so that they can teach us.

Things Kids Say

I nanny three great boys. I love being able to say that I love my job! And the two oldest are so funny! (I'm sure the baby has a great sense of humor, too, he just can't talk yet. The best he gets is comedic timing of laughter and toots.) The three-year-old loves making people laugh and is a natural class clown. The four-year-old is more serious, so I find he is his funniest when he doesn't try. Both will say outlandish things sometimes that make me laugh out loud.

Here are some of my favorites from the oldest:

Me: "What's your favorite Chinese food?"
Him: "Peanut butter and jelly"

"Do you know what makes you stand up? Dirt."

"This is a fweezer, and this is a fridgerfridger."

"This water is too soggy."

Listing family pets:
Me: "Moxie the cat, the fish, the hamster..."
Him: "Don't forget baby Jonah!"
Me: "Your brother is not a pet!"

"Before Captain Hook got his hook, his name was Pirate Hook."

"We don't want to fall and break our noggiums!"

Me: "That's our president now. His name is Barak Obama."

Him: "That's a funny name, it doesn't even make SENSE!"

We've been listening to a children's version of the Wizard of Oz, and he pointed something out to me:

"How is Dorothy going to get her house back?"

I didn't know either! 

And the best quotes from the youngest:

Me: "Do you need a tissue?"

Him: SNIFFFF "No, I suckin' it."

Him: "I'm a hungry tiger!"

Me: "What do you want to eat?" 

Him: "Meat."

Me: "What kind if meat?"

Him: "Chocolate meat!"

Him: "What color should I use?"
Me: "How about purple?"
Him: "...how about you decide black?"

"When you go through the window (of a car) that's doin' it 'Nascar Style'!"

Him: "We've had special training so we can go in space!"
Me: "What kind of training?"
Him: "Hmm... Potty training!"

I just heard him sing the alphabet "...Eucharist, T U V..."

What is growing up to a two year old?
"I'm going to get the BIGGEST pants, and wear them, and they'll STAY!"

Me: "What's your phone number?"
Him: "Number 6."

Teething Pains

Teething must be the worst natural pain that a person can go through, after labor.

The baby I nanny for has been growing his little chompers, and from the way he howls, I know it must hurt. He's not an overly fussy baby, but when he hurts man he can scream. Broke my heart that there wasn't much I could do besides rub his gums and try to help him sleep.

Seriously, imagine you're going along just fine, learning how to eat, sleep, and poop. You've just figured out how to get mom and dad to do what you want and things are going great. Then all of a sudden BAM your gums ache like nobody's business. You don't have any framework for this. I mean, what if it lasts forever? You don't know. You're not even four months old yet!!

At least he's cute like the Gerber baby.