Slouch down

Last week, my dear friend A'driane made a comment on twitter along the lines of "Should I just be leaning in to all this motherhood/artist/writer stuff?"

After pointing out that if she leaned in to everything, she'd fall down, I suggested an alternative.  My new motto:  instead of leaning in, "Slouch down so no one can see you and ask you to do anything else."

Let me back up a little.

In case you are the only person in the world who hasn't heard about it, Lean in is the title of a book, and subsequently a movement, written and orchestrated by Facebook COO Sheryl Sandberg.  Because when you're in an executive position at the largest social site in the world, it's pretty easy to turn anything you want into a movement. 

The idea behind lean in is that more women should lean in to career and leadership positions.  I actually haven't read the book, but my understanding is that "lean in" kind of has two different meanings.  First that we can change the trajectory of women in industry by making our careers and advancement a priority, by leaning INTO these things and leaning OUT OF other things (it seems that people forget that part).  But also that you can tell who is engaged at a meeting, and consequently who is going to get ahead, by looking at who is physically leaning in.

When I was a teacher, I totally didn't lean in at faculty meetings.  I sat in the back.  I tried to sneakily grade papers when no one was looking.  I slouched down.

Now, don't get me wrong.  I didn't slouch down in the classroom.  I don't think I even sat down in the classroom.  I was all up in everyone's face, all the time.

But here's the thing.  I wasn't trying to get ahead.  I wasn't going to get ahead.  In teaching, the only way to "get ahead" or "move up" is by not teaching anymore.  Which I wasn't at all interested in.

Motherhood is kind of the same.

So here's what I'm trying to get at.

I understand leaning in.  I do.  I think it's important for women to get ahead in the workforce.  I think it's great for the women who are in a position to do that, who are interested in doing it.  I am grateful for those who are doing it because I believe that they really will change the world.

But.

We won't all get ahead.  We can't all get ahead.  We don't all want to get ahead.   Some of us just want to be exactly where we are right now.

And working harder won't get us anywhere but busier. 

Many of us, I would venture *most* of us, aren't busy because we're getting ahead.  We're busy because we're reacting.  

So, when I suggest we slouch down, I'm not suggesting we not do our jobs.  What I am suggesting is that we CHOOSE our jobs.  That we do the things that we are here to do with all  our hearts, but that we stop letting other people shove their purposes in our faces. 

In your classroom, close the door and do the right thing.  In your house, close pinterest and look at your babies and yourself.  In your heart and head, shut off the noise and trust that you are already doing enough and don't need a single other thing to be a success.

Who wants to slouch down with me?

It's time for food

I was dreading solid food.  Dreading it so bad.

I had pronounced that I was going to wait a really long time.  Possibly forever.  I wasn't going to let anyone pressure me otherwise.

I had considered foregoing cereal and purees in favor of BLW.  I'd start with spaghetti.  And a fork.  Some time around 3 years of age.

I had perhaps become a little irrational.

But around 5 months?  My baby seemed hungry.  She wanted to nurse all the time, and she was waking up more at night.  She tried to steal my peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Guys?  I'm not great at signs,. but I'm pretty sure she was trying to tell me something.  So, without anyone suggesting it or  pressuring me or in any way influencing my decision, I went out and bought a box of rice cereal.

I still wasn't convinced that this was a good idea, but I figured I'd give it a try.  I gave myself escape clauses. If she didn't like it (which I was sure she wouldn't), I'd just put it away and not think about it again.

But then a funny thing happened.  She liked it.  She leaned into the food.  Tried to take the spoon from me and get it into her mouth.  Swallowed every bite.

Huh.

So, for the past month, I've been spooning cereal into my smiling baby's mouth once a day.  About a week ago, I thought to myself "Oh, maybe we should have something else."  So I made some pureed squash and pureed sweet potatoes.  Now once a day I spoon pureed vegetables into my smiling baby's mouth.

WHAT IS HAPPENING??!

At BG's mommy and me class on Tuesday, I mentioned to a few moms that we'd started solids.  They asked how it was going and I said "So well!  I'm so surprised!  She likes food!  She wants it in her mouth."

And then I realized they were all giving me the "you're special" look.  "Uh huh.  Well, how was she?" (indicating my older daughter)

"Oh.  Awful.  She used to spit it out.  Knock the spoon out of my hand.  Hit me."

"Oh.  Huh."

WHAT?? I THOUGHT THAT WAS WHAT ALL BABIES DID.

Ahem.

But anyway.  Food is going well this time.  Who knew?  I'm still not sure how much to give her or when or in what combinations.  But as long as she keeps smiling, I'm just going to keep spooning food into her mouth.

I like food too, sweet girl.  I really do.

In which I rant about rants

Lately, I've seen a lot of posts about how it's cool to hate being a mother and how negative a trend that is.  About how you're not allowed to say you love being a mom.  About how people want to stop reading so much negative talk and think parents should stop snarking and complaining so much because we're all so lucky to have our kids.

And you know what?  It really bugs me.

Maybe I'm not reading the same things as everyone else.  But I don't see a trend of complaining about kids.  I see a trend about complaining about mom bloggers complaining about kids.  I don't think it's cool to hate being a mom.  I think it's "cool" to hate on each other.

As usual.

So here's what I have to say.

I love my kids.  I'm glad I'm their mom.  I'm grateful. And sometimes it sucks.

And if you feel that way too?  I think you're doing great.

And if you don't feel that way too?  I think you're doing great.

Because, dude.

Everyone has to navigate parenting differently and everyone has to feel her own feelings.  Not has a right to.  Has to.  And people use social media for different purposes.

And you know what?  If you don't like what someone's writing, most browsers have this little x button somewhere on the top bar.  Close the window.  Unsubscribe.  Unfollow.  No one is making you stay.

And I realize now that I'm writing this, that this is a tirade about blog posts saying that I don't understand why people write tirades about other blog posts.  So I guess maybe I do understand.

So what I really want to say is this.  Tell your truth.  If your truth is that you are happy all the time, say it.  If your truth is that you aren't happy all the time but you work really hard at being positive and grateful, say it.  If your truth is that you don't like the way your life is going, or that you're struggling, or that your kids are making you crazy, say it.

And then be kind to each other.  And give each other the benefit of the doubt.  And if you really don't want to read what someone is saying, walk away and don't read it.

That's what I'm doing.

On Saving the World

I used to be political.

I had opinions, strong opinions, about Big Important Things.  Things that mattered.  Things like global warming and peak oil, No Child Left Behind, abortion, welfare, Head Start, healthcare reform.  And I wasn't afraid to tell anyone those opinions.  I did it respectfully, but I said what was on my mind.  I wrote letters to my members of congress, almost daily.  I was going to change the world.

That was when I was young and knew everything.

It definitely changed when I had kids, but it changed even before that.  Some of it changed when I started teaching kids, when I was immersed in that world every day.  When the 15 year old girl crying in my room at lunch mattered more than the discussion happening on the floor of the Supreme Court.  At least it seemed that way.

Well, it did and it didn't.

I want the world my kids grow up in to be one in which they are safe and loved, where they can breathe clean air and drink clean water, where they know and believe that people are equal because that is the way the world around them treats people.  I want my elected officials to make the right choices, and I vote for people who I believe will do that more often than they won't.  I act on my principles, and I make choices based on the kind of world I want them to live in.

But I don't want to talk about it anymore.

I do think something about the world changed.  The way we do politics is different because of social media; it's retail instead of wholesale.   In some ways it's grassroots again, and that is good.  It's admirable.

But something about me changed too.  I don't believe I know everything anymore.  And while there are some things I firmly believe to be true and right, with all my heart and soul, it's hard to think of the people who hear my words as being on the *wrong* side of those things.  Because really, I think that anyone who is in a position to really listen to what I say is probably, in some way or another, on the right side of their heart with everything that matters.

And if they aren't, it isn't my words that will make a difference.

I still want to save the world.  But as far as I'm concerned, the crying girl in my classroom DID matter more than the floor of the Supreme Court.  The baby in my arms, the friend texting me for support, the bullied mom who needs backup, those are causes I can affect.

And maybe, some day, one of my students or one of my girls or I will be standing in front of congress, as a member or as an expert, and will have something to say about one of those issues that Really Matters, and then we will speak, we will all speak.

But until then, I'm still trying to save the world.  I'm just doing it with the one gift I have that's more powerful than my words.  My love and kindness.

Because in the end, that's what I believe Really Matters most

Parent led vs. child led activities

As a stay at home parent, part of my job is to find ways to keep my kids busy for most of the day.  Philosophically, as well as practically, I think it's important for there to be a balance between "Parent led" and "Child led" activities.

Let me explain these terms.

For the toddler, parent led looks kind of like this:

"Here, then you take the red paper and you put it with the . . no, wait, see you have to . . . WHERE ARE YOU GOING WITH THOSE SCISSORS?? THIS IS NOT WHAT IT LOOKED LIKE ON PINTEREST!"

or

"Throw me the ball honey.  No, throw me the . . . where are you going?  No, don't throw the ball at your sister.  Okay, we'll play basketball.  Okay, I'll play basketball.  Would you rather go for a walk?  TELL ME WHEN YOU'RE GOING TO BEND OVER TO PICK UP A ROCK INSTEAD OF RIPPING MY ARM OFF."

Ahem.

For the infant, parent led looks kind of like this:

"Peek a boo.  Look it's a rattle!  Am I supposed to be ... singing or something?  Oh god, I have to get your sister, hold on."

Child led on the other hand looks like this:

"Mommy, I make you a pizza.  No, I want to do my puzzle.  DON'T HELP ME I WANT TO DO IT ALL BY MYSELF.    I CAN'T DO IT HELP ME!"

or

"Let's play Animal Ball!  No mommy, that's not how you play Animal Ball!"

or

"Look mommy I got ALL my books off the shelf!  And I put playdough on them!"

While for the infant it looks kind of like:

...Well, okay, it doesn't sound like much, but it looks like a lot of rolling and some grabbing.  And pulling my hair.

The reasons why it is important to balance the two are many.  Some of them have to do with child development, and making sure that kids have the opportunity to both explore and to learn things outside their comfort zone.  A lot of the reasons have to do with the fact that each type of activity makes mom crazy in a DIFFERENT way, and therefore balancing them helps you all get through the day.

What I haven't figured out yet is HOW to balance them.   If I'm doing one, I feel guilty that I'm not doing the other.  If I'm telling BG what to do, I feel bad for not letting her play.  If I am letting her do whatever she wants, I feel lazy, like I'm supposed to be doing some of the work.  I feel worried if she doesn't do enough of *something,* whether it's physical, creative, sensory, or verbal.  I feel frustrated and angry when she rejects my ideas for activities (which is pretty much every time).  I just want to get it right y'know?  Even though I don't believe there really is any such thing.

Right now, my big girl is doing a puzzle.  I don't want to do it for her.  Even though she's not doing it right.  But every once in a while she cries out for me in frustration and I hand her a piece, properly oriented and tell her to "try this one next."  Then when she puts it in the right place, I applaud.

Sometimes I wish that, when it comes to motherhood, there was someone around to hand me the pieces.  And once in a while, to applaud a little.

Transitions

My Big Girl is in the process of giving up her nap.  Or thinks she is.  Wants to be.

I'm not a fan.

I call it Quiet Time now, and give her a pile of books.  I leave her light on.  Say "see you later."  Every other or every third day, she falls asleep.  Some of the in between days she stays in there calmly for almost an hour, looking at her books and singing to herself, while I take care of her sister, clear the lunch dishes, start a load of laundry, and scarf down way too much chocolate.

Today, after about 20 minutes of her jumping on the bed, screaming, and banging on her door, I had to concede that I wasn't getting a break and go rescue her.

Today was not a good day.  I've had a lot of not good days lately.

I've never dealt well with transitions.  I don't know why these children of mine insist on changing so much and so quickly.  I don't know how people know when it's time for the next thing, or how to do it when they get there.  Should my big girl be potty training yet?  Should she be nap free? Should she go to bed earlier/later?   Should the baby move out of our room and to her crib?  Should she be on a nap schedule?  Should she be eating solid food?

How do people know these things?

I read the books in the beginning.  I googled like crazy.  I asked for advice.  And all any of that ever did was make me feel icky and incompetent and wrong.

"Trust your mama gut," everyone tells me now.  "Just go by your kids' signs."

My mama gut must be defective.  And my kids' signs are apparently written in a language other than English. Because I don't know a damn thing about how to parent them.

After the quiet time that wasn't today, BG was in a sour mood, and I was too.  I couldn't engage with her, couldn't connect.  She wanted to watch TV, but I already felt like crap from hanging around the house all morning, so I wanted to go.

"Do you want to go to the park? The library?  Play outside?"

"I don't wanna do aaaaaaanything."

"Do you want to put Baby Sister in her stroller and go for a walk?"

Her eyes lit up.  "Pick up Baby Sister.  Put me in a stroller."

I was reluctant at first, as I was pretty sure it was her that needed to be tired out and not me, but I quickly gave in because it was Something To Do.  I walked.  I walked and walked and walked, with one child strapped to myself and the other in the jogging stroller. I walked up hills and around the neighborhood, in the 89 degree heat and sun.

And when I looked down, BG was asleep.

Well.  I guess that sign was clear at least.

Discomfort

This morning, I was sitting on the floor of my living room in my yoga pants, while my baby lay on her tummy on the playmat in her romper and my big girl ran around the entire house in just her underwear.

(Underwear.  Yes.  A short lived experiment.  One that did not succeed but no I don't need any advice at this point in time thankyouverymuch.)

Everyone was healthy.  Everyone was fine.  I'm pretty sure that both my girls were even having fun.

But I?  Was bored. Bored and hyperalert and tired beyond belief, all at the same time.

Could I have folded the laundry?  Sure, probably.  Could I have read a book?  Maybe, if I didn't mind being interrupted constantly.  Could I have played peek-a-boo with the baby and answered the random questions the toddler spewed in my direction when she ran by?  Well, of course.  I did.  I did.

But really, today was not a day that felt a whole lot like winning.

But sometimes that's what it is to be a good mom.  To let your kids be kids and just to make sure that nothing bad happens.

I don't like that feeling of not doing anything.  Of not having a plan, of not being in control.  Sometimes I think there are only two reasons motherhood can be boring: either I'm not doing it right, or it's not something worth doing.

I'm wrong.

I don't like being wrong either.

Sometimes it's okay to be bored, and sometimes it's okay to do anything possible to keep yourself from being bored.  Sometimes it's important to stay in the moment and feel the discomfort and realize that feeling that discomfort doesn't mean anything is wrong or broken, just that this is the uncomfortable part.  And sometimes it's important to figure out what's making you uncomfortable and find a way to squash and prevent it.

Unfortunately, life taught me that before it taught me how to tell the difference.