The Begining Part Two: What a Night!!

New mom frustration # 34: Forgetting what side is next for a feeding.

I am sitting on my bed in my room, staring at the most beautiful flowers..a gift from my fabulous co workers. I feel very blessed and lucky. I am anxious to take a shower and freshen up. This is the part of child birth I was most looking forward to. Having a couple of days to bond with my baby, nap when I want to, enjoy some alone time before we get home to the chaos. Also really looking forward to showing off my baby to my friends and coworkers who will surely come and visit--after all I have now texted everyone within a 30 mile radius to come see the baby. I even bought new nursing pj's and new nursing clothes so I would feel sexy during my stay (Hey no one needs to feel sexy like a new mom). One of my favorite parts about the hospital stay last time was lying in bed cuddling with my baby and watching TV.  No question, this was going to be great.

At least that was the plan.

First off, baby's blood sugar was low. The nurses kept telling me the baby was "jittery." I have no idea what a "jittery" baby looks like, but in keeping true to my vow of not driving myself crazy I decide to assume the baby is fine, until they tell me otherwise. They tell me her sugar is on the low, side, so I need to nurse her every two hours. and they will keep checking her sugar every three hours. If it stays low they will give her some formula--something no breastfeeding mother wants to hear. Now alarm bells are ringing in my head. I am scared that the formula will make her not want to breastfeed, that her latch won't be good and we won't be able to breastfeed. I am calculating the cost of formula. I ask if its really necessary. They tell me if I refuse the formula, they will have to start an IV. Of course no mom would choose an IV over an ounce of formula, so I reluctantly give my consent.

The nurse asks if she can take the baby to what used to be the nursery so they can complete the assessments and give her a bath. The nurse asks me if I want to come and do it myself.  For a moment I feel like I am on jeopardy, answering a really hard question. If I say no, will the nurse think I am a bad parent? I am supposed to not want to be separated from my baby, right? I am the mom, I should do all of these things, after all I am going to have to do it when I get home. But I really don't want to. I want the nurse to take her for a half hour or so and have my shower. Is it selfish to want to make myself look pretty after birth? Anyone coming to visit doesn't care what I look like, they just want to see the baby. I tell the nurse I will just stay in my room--I am still attached to the IV anyway.

Now the clock is ticking. I ask my nurse when she can take out the IV. She tells me I need to go to the bathroom first, and I can't go alone. She tells me to ring my call bell when I need to go and she will take me, then take out the IV. I try to tell her that I want to try now, but she seems pretty busy, so I decide to wait. After about 10 min, I decide I really want to shower.

Now I have a dilemma. Do I ring for the nurse to help me to the washroom? Or should I get up and go myself? As I nurse myself, I find it hard to ring the call bell for anything except a true emergency. Besides I know how to get to the bathroom with the IV. Plus I know how busy she probably is doing her med round and checking patients. I hate to be interrupted when I am doing my med round. Also if I ring and it takes a while for her to respond, then I am wasting time I could be showering.

On the other hand, I did have a significant bleed during delivery, and although I feel fine, if I get up and faint then I would be taking up a lot more of the nurse's time then if she just helped me. Plus if she helps me to the bathroom then she can be my witness that I actually went to the bathroom. If I go myself and tell her about it then she might decide to leave the IV in until she witnesses me going to the bathroom. I finally decide that if I were the nurse taking care of me then I would want me to ring for the nurse. I ring the bell.

I am in the bathroom, wondering how much time I have left before my family arrives, when I hear their excited voices, plus the voices of some very dear friends.  Damn. I am happy they are here, but I really wanted to shower before they came. I come out of the bathroom where my nurse is waiting to take out my IV and do a post partum check up. My crew has to wait in the hallway while the nurse does my check. My friend cleverly keeps my kids occupied by counting the baby's fingers and toes. Finally everyone comes in.

As you can imagine, the hospital room is now a zoo. My older two kids are excitedly checking out the closet, my toddler is trying to make a break for the door. My friends are taking turns holding the baby. I am trying to eat pizza (a tradition we started when our first child was born) and share the pizza with my friend who graciously picked up our kids from daycare and looked after them while we were at the hospital. We are truly lucky to have such an amazing friend with three kids of her own willing to look after our three. I can only imagine the chaos at her house with six kids running around.

I am trying to enjoy the company and enjoy introducing my kids to their new sibling, but truthfully, I just feel annoyed. My kids are running around, two them have removed their socks and shoes, my toddler is laying on the dirty hospital floor. My toddler is whining because she is tired after her first day of daycare. I tell my husband its time to get the kids home. Its way past their bedtime and I am sure they won't go to bed without a fight. Finally everyone leaves and I am once again alone, looking forward to a quiet night.

The baby had other plans.

After everyone left, it was time to check baby's blood sugar. My plan is to feed her, check her sugar and hopefully catch a couple of hours of sleep before she wakes again. She fed well, and her sugar was ok--no formula needed (they did giver an ounce in the nursery after birth however). I wrap her up and place her back in her bassinet. Now for some much needed sleep....

I got about 30 minutes.

I wake up to a screaming baby. I don't know what to do...This isn't supposed to happen, she is supposed to sleep until the next feeding. This has never happened to me before. She is only 6 hours old what could possibly wrong? Okay, I tell myself, perhaps she is still hungry. Let's start there. I pick her up and try to nurse her. I am stiff and sore from the birth and have a hard time getting comfortable to nurse. She seems like she wants to nurse but won't latch or will only latch for a few seconds. I can't seem to get my position right. I feel the tension creep into my neck. I tell myself that its fine, she will eventually settle. I will just keep trying to nurse her. The struggle continues for about 30 min (only about 10 of which did she actually feed). I finally get her somewhat settled and lay her back down---just in time for the nurse to come in and check her blood sugar. The whole process begins again.

We struggled on like that for pretty much the entire night, with baby sleeping for about 30min at a time and screaming for the rest of the time. Around 4 am, panic and frustration starts to settle in. Doesn't the baby know this is supposed to be my quiet time? We are supposed to be bonding, but she is making it very difficult with all this screaming. I wonder about the other moms on the floor and if my baby is keeping them up. I wonder why my nurse is not coming to see if anything is wrong. Should I call my nurse? Did I miss something? Did I somehow break my baby? Why is the baby torturing me? Is she hungry? Then the more darker thoughts come: Will I bond with this baby? What if she is always like this? How am I going to cope? Maybe I can't do this. Now what do I do? Will I go through post partum depression again because I feel so negative towards the baby right now? I am so frustrated and angry.

Finally my nurse comes to see whats wrong. The baby has been screaming for about two hours. I suggest that perhaps the baby is hungry, and my milk has not come in. I am hoping that the nurse will offer to take the baby for a couple of hours and give her a bottle so I can at least get some sleep.  The nurse gets my hint and tells me that since the nursery is closed. All babies unless they are sick have to stay in the room with mom. No exceptions. However, she will bring a bottle and I can feed the baby myself. I decide not to do this. I don't want to admit that I don't know how to give a bottle. (I have never given any of my children a bottle because I don't want to be associated with bottles, I always had someone else give my babies bottles). I politely refuse and the nurse looks at me like I have grown another head. My nurse tells me how important it is that I get my sleep (she tells me this at 5am) If formula will settle the baby then I should do that. She doesn't offer to re-swaddle the baby,  or bring a warm blanket. She does however bring me a soother, but it doesn't help much.

Desperate for some rest, I take the baby to bed with me and try to get comfortable. My head is telling me not to do this, that if I bring my baby to bed now I will be setting her and me up for struggles when she has to sleep in her bassinet. I briefly wonder if I sleep with her now, how long I will have to sleep with her. I decide that it is worth the risk. We somewhat settle to bed.  We manage a good four hour sleep.  We wake up just in time for the day shift to start....



How was your first night with your baby? Did you stay in the hospital or go home hours after birth? Did you find the hospital stay restful?

My kingdom for some sleep!!

Like all parents, my husband and I just do the best we can, and hold our breath, and hope we've set aside enough money to pay for our kids' therapy.                 ------Michelle Pfeiffer

I have been a mom of four for just over two months now, and I must say its a hell of a ride. On one hand I can't believe its been two months already and on the other hand I can't believe its only been two months. We have been through a lot over the last two months.  The good news is that we are all healthy and happy--although happy is a relative term--more accurately I would describe us as stressed, but surviving. Thanks to all of our amazing friends and family for your support. We love you.

I have been reflecting a lot this week on my experience as a mother. I have been looking back to when I first became a mom in 2006. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I would one day have four children. I never dreamed I would be so blessed. I am one lucky momma and I am grateful every day for my family.

Looking back, I am reminded of how far I have come and all the things I have learned along the way. I am reminded of the good advice I heard, the bad advice I heard, the advice that was great but not practical. I would like to share my own advice, and give you my opinion on the most popular advice you are bound to either read or hear if you are a new mom or about to become one.

Lets start with one of the most popular baby topics: Sleep--yours and your baby's. You are bound to read in virtually every baby book and advice blog you can get your hands to "Sleep when your baby sleeps".

This is good advice. Really, really good advice.

 Problem is, its not really practical. If this is your first baby, then you may actually heed this advice for the first couple of weeks--assuming you have one of those amazing babies who actually sleeps.  After the first couple of weeks, you will probably use your baby's nap time to get stuff done around the house, like dishes or dinner (more on that in future blog posts).  Or you will use the time to feed yourself.  I firmly believe that anyone who says "sleep when the baby sleeps" has not been around a baby in a very long time. They don't realize that new moms are almost always choosing between food and sleep--both desperately needed and in short supply.  So please, if you know a new mom and you are going to visit or to help, bring her a snack and a meal to feed the family for supper. That way you can hopefully hold the baby while she naps.  And new moms, don't be to proud to turn down food. Accept any and all offers. You will sleep better if you are not hungry even if you don't get to sleep for very long. Sometimes its about quality, not quantity.

If you have other children, then sleeping when your baby sleeps is next to impossible, unless your kids are young enough and you can get them to nap at the same time. If this is you then you should be writing this blog because you are a super star. For the rest of us, if we are lucky enough to get the baby to sleep, then we are too busy taking care of our older children to sleep ourselves.

So what is an exhausted parent to do? Take heart dear friends, there is hope.

It is possible to get some sleep with older ones running around. You have to first change your expectations. You probably won't get a long uninterrupted nap, and you have still have some awareness of whats going on around you. But remember, its about quality, not quantity. A restful cat nap can be just the pick me up you need. Start with making the environment safer for sleeping. Its always a good idea to make sure your door is locked and your child cannot open it. Also make sure the phone is out of your child's reach or  you may find yourself fielding a call to China. Baby gates are also great.  Once you have made the environment relatively safe you are ready for that much deserved cat nap.  Here are my favorite ways to cat nap with your older ones:

The easiest thing to do is put on a movie for your older one and nap during the movie.  Have a little one that won't sit still or bugs you every few minutes?  Try snuggling with your child. Sit in a big comfy chair with your child in front of you and your arms around them. Since you both face the TV hopefully your child won't notice you have dozed off. Or throw a pillow/blanket/mat on the floor and use blankets to make a fort over it. You and your child pretend that you are camping and outside your tent are wild animals so you need to stay in the tent (watch the movie from the opening of the tent). Or use the couch as a boat and pretend the floor is a shark infested ocean (hence you two have to stay on the couch and watch the movie).

Another one of my favorite games to play with my children when I am too tired to get up is gas station/grocery store. This game works well outside too. You sit in a comfy chair (or recline in a lawn chair) and pretend to be the gas station attendant. Your child either runs around (driving a pretend car) or if you have a ride on toy in the house then so much the better. When you are outside, your child can use his or her bike or any ride on toy, or drive the pretend car. Your child comes to you to fill whatever vehicle you are using with gas. Have them pay you for the gas. You can use monopoly money to teach them about counting and making change etc. If you don't have monopoly money then just pretend. Have fun making up the price of gas (See if your child can count out twenty thousand dollars..If you live where I live then you know that price for gas is not far off...)  Then they drive away and come back for another fill up and so on. You get rest while your child does laps around you.

Grocery store is very similar. Take any pretend groceries you have and put them somewhere away from you. Give your child a grocery list and ask them to get items for you. If you are really creative, you can have your child make the list by drawing or writing items to get at the "grocery store". Note that you are not the grocery store. You want your child to go to the store by themselves and pick up the items and bring them back to you like a delivery person. . Keep your child going for the groceries as often as possible. If you are using a ride on toy, have the child load and unload the groceries. Or give them a shopping bag or a shopping cart to push.You don't even have to have plastic groceries to do this, you can just use your imagination and pretend--Say to your child " Please bring me some milk, eggs and butter." See if your child can go to the pretend store come back and remember the items you asked for. Then pay your child and ask for three more items.  You have just engaged your child's memory and taught them about money and counting.  Who knew you were working so hard? Plus you can rest your eyes while your child goes to the pretend store ( The further the store is away from you, the better).  You should at least be able to get in a cup of tea or coffee during this game. This also works to occupy your older one while you are trying to feed the baby.

Finally, one of my favorite games. This one is fairly new, we just came up with it during my pregnancy when I really could not get off the couch.  We call this game "Hospital".  It is very simple. You are the patient, you child is the nurse or doctor. At my house my children usually pretend they are a nurse, because " The doctor doesn't do anything" (Ahh they make their nurse mommy so proud.) First, make a bed for the patient. You can use  the couch, your bed or any comfortable surface. Once the bed is made, the patient lies down. If you have a toy doctors kit your child can use it to examine you. If you don't have one, no worries, you can use a spoon as a light to check eyes, old head phones as a stethoscope, and a pencil for a syringe and needle. After your child has given you an exam, its time for the patient to rest. Your child can cover you with the blanket and make sure you have peace and quiet. If you are really good at this game, you can get your child to rub your feet or back and you can get a ten minute cat nap.

So there you have it, the "Lazy parent's guide to playing with children" I hope you found it helpful. Admittedly these games loose their appeal if you do them to often, but they can be a real life saver for those days when you can barely keep your eyes open. With a little luck your children will have so much fun doing these games that they won't even notice you are way to tired for the park or anything else that can't be done while sitting in the chair. Now if only dinner would make itself....




What games do you play with your children? How do you cope on those days when just getting dressed takes too much energy?  Any tips/ideas to share?

The Begining Part One: Today is the day

New mom frustration # 9: Picking the wrong day to switch from super absorbent pads to ultra light ones.

 It is a sunny Tuesday morning. I am nervously sitting in the OB's waiting room.  I feel bad, because the OB had told me that if the ultrasound he ordered the previous week showed the baby was head down then I no longer needed him and I should cancel my Tuesday appointment. The baby was indeed head down, and therefore the OB and  a C-section no longer needed.  My intuition told me to keep the appointment.

Getting to the appointment was a stressful ordeal in of itself.  We all overslept. Our older children were wild and trying to get them dressed, fed and ready for daycare was like herding wet cats. Finally, we all piled in our van and we were off. We decided I would be the first drop off since by that time I was already ten min late for my appointment. Naturally, almost every street between my house and the OB was closed--we had to make about three detours to get there. I hopped out of the van with a mumbled "goodbye" to the kids.

I don't wait very long for my appointment. I don't even have time to give a urine sample. Now I am in the exam room, talking with the medical student. I plead my case to her. I tell her about my previous labors, why I think I am in labor now. I know we can't plan our births for convienence I do have three kids who are currently in daycare until 5-6pm (hence today would be a great day for a baby). She agrees to examine me and finds not much progress.  Sighing, I resign myself to waiting at least a few more days for baby.

But wait.....

She says she will have the OB examine me too, and maybe he can "get something going".  Now I am lying on the exam table, naked from the waist down, wondering how it is that I could have thought that I was much further a long then I actually am. I am hopeful, but also feel a little like I am wasting his time. Lo and behold, the OB finds that my water is very close to breaking and I am well into the second phase of labor.

For those who don't know much about labor, or those who forgot what labor is, here is a quick run down. All you really need to know are two numbers, the effacement -- a percentage and  dilation --a number out of 10. When a women is 100 percent effaced and 10cm dilated its baby time.  The OB finds my dilation at 5 and my effacement at 70%.  He gives me a couple of options:

Option one is go home and wait it out.  It won't be very much longer (like maybe 24 hours max). He says he can't believe my water has not broken and I am not in the hospital.  He also says that once the water breaks, the rest will go pretty quickly. I am not overly thrilled with option one, especially since my family doctor (who would deliver the baby if no c-section was needed) is out of town, but expected back today. The OB then gives me option number two.

I could go to the maternity deparment today and when he has a moment he will come up and break my water. If my doctor makes it back in time for the delievery, then fine and if not, the OB will come back and deliver the baby.  It was an offer I could not refuse. The OB tells me to go after lunch and he will see me there. I excitedly tell my husband today is the day.

We are super excited when we get home. So excited in fact, we can't figure out what to do with ourselves. We have about an hour or so before we have to go to the hospital. Perfect time to finish packing the hospital bag, take out the dog, eat and pack food for the delivery room and call our folks to let them know.  Oh and while we are at it, make arrangements for our three children to be picked up and looked after when the daycare closes at 5:30. We manage to accomplish some of things, like making the phone calls and arranging for the child care. We set off to the hospital finalizing names on the way.

We get to the hospital and I feel like royalty as I am shown into the delivery room.  The room appears to have been freshly painted since the last time I was there. There is a nice colorful quilt on the wall, and not much else.  There is no TV, no radio, not even a tub in the room. Not the nicest looking of rooms to have a baby, but truthfully by this time I don't care--I just want my baby.  Besides, I brought my own radio.

I am settled into bed and my water is broken.  Next comes the IV and some medication to strengthen my contractions. Then comes the epidural and the radio. I am excited and relaxed at the same time.  My body not knowing how to handle the adrenaline surge begins to shake.  Tension creeps into my neck and settles there. I shift positions and take some Tylenol. Slowly I am able to calm down--at least temporarily.

My husband returns from eating and we settle in to wait for our baby.  There are many ways to spend this time.  Some baby books recommend bringing cards or board games or a DVD player to pass the time.  Personally  I don't know how people can focus on any of that.  My husband and I could barely hold a conversation, and mostly sat in comfortable quietness.  I of course was too wired to sleep, so we just try to enjoy what will probably our last moments of quiet before the chaos truly begins.

As I am lying in the bed, I think about my older kids faces when they hear about their new sibling.  I think about how fast this all seems to be happening. I am trying to savor every moment, yet I want time to speed up because I want to hold my baby.  I wonder if its a boy or a girl, and try to prepare myself for hearing the magical words "Its a.....".  I am looking forward to staying in the hospital and relaxing with my newborn in my room.  I can't wait and yet I am somewhat saddened by the fact that I will not be here in this position again.

Instead of taking the time to truly reflect on this, I decide that it is absolutely necessary to text everyone I have ever met and tell them I am in the delivery room.  I check facebook, I message my friends, I text my mom.  I am sure I looked rather silly to the delivery room nurse--here I am about to have a baby and all I care about is where my phone is and what my friends are doing. Finally its time to put the phone away and have a baby.

After one last call to my family doctor (who is an hour and half away still but is rushing to the hospital) The OB returns for the big moment.  It only took a few minutes and hurt a lot--even with the epidural. My husband wanted to be the one tell me the sex of our baby, so we told everyone in the room to let my husband tell me.  The conversation went something like this:

Husband: "Oh my gosh!!  Are you ready? Its a girl!!!!"
Me: "What?! a Girl?! you are kidding me.  Are you serious?"
Husband "I am pretty sure that all of us standing around your bed are in agreement that this a girl"
Me: "As if its a girl holy crap!!"

Then they placed my precious princess in my arms and I was in love. Although I was secretly hoping for a boy, I am struck by how right it feels to have another daughter.  I cannot imagine another son, but a daughter feels like the most natural thing in the world.

As I hold my newborn daughter,  I hear the OB quietly issue orders to the delivery nurse. He starts pressing on my stomach again.  Uh oh.

I know what this means. I have been through this once before.  I ask my nurse if I am hemorrhaging. Her response is calm: "Well, you are bleeding more than we would like, but we are giving you medication to help stop it"  I hear the OB order the medication--which happens to be the same medication featured in a documentary that I watched the night before--a medication linked to uterine rupture and maternal death when used to induce labor. 

Now I am truly terrified, although the logical nurse side of me is telling me everything is fine and I need to trust the people taking care of me. That nurse side of me is fighting for control. I wish I had listened to her. The adrenaline surge and my heightened state of arousal (think fight or flight times 10) wins out and I express my concerns about the drug they have just ordered (and already given me).  The staff in the room are extremely kind.  I can almost hear the eye rolling (heck, I would do it myself if a patient said they "saw something on TV...) The OB explains  that the medication is very effective in stopping a hemorrhage. The nurse reminds me that my labor is over, therefore they are not using the medication to induce my labor.  She once again calmly but firmly reassures me.  I tell my hyper anxious self that everything will be fine.  The tension starts to creep into my neck. It feels like someone is grabbing me by the scruff of my neck and squeezing.  I tell my shaking body to stop it. It doesn't listen.

While this is going on, I am still holding my princess. My husband is so excited he is hopping from one foot to another, telling me how he knew it was girl, how happy he is to have another daughter. He tells me how gorgeous she is and what a massive head she has.  This last part is not news to me as it feels like someone has lit a fire in my lower half. I think about how surreal this whole scene is.  Here I am snuggling and basking in the glow of my newborn daughter and yet I could potentially bleed to death right here in this room.  I wonder my bleed is so routine that the staff are not phased or if they are hiding their distress for my benefit.  I wonder how many times they see a post partum hemorrhage.

I banish the thought almost as soon as it enters my mind. I know from past experience how devastating unwanted and disturbing thoughts can be.  My logical nurse side again rears her head and tells me to stop it, calm down.  This time she wins, and I return to snuggling my baby.  To distract myself, I think about getting the news to my mom, who must be wondering what is going on, since I last texted a couple of hours ago saying it wouldn't be long.  I wonder if she is worried. I need to tell her everything is fine, no need to worry.

My baby is back under the Panda warmer--I think that is what it is called and my husband is snapping pictures.  My bleeding has apparently stopped and I can see the OB stitching me up.  I am tempted to ask how bad it is, how many stitches I need....so many questions.  I decide not to ask because I will just worry about the answers anyway.

Time to take the baby to the nursery for her weight and other assessments. My husband goes with her.  My stitches completed , the OB congratulates me and leaves the room.  My nurse helps me clean up and helps me get into a sitting position.  Its like nothing ever happened. 20 minutes ago I was bleeding uncontrollably and now I am sitting in pretty much the same position I was sitting in when I got here this afternoon. I am feeling a mix of emotions. I am relieved that its over and everything is fine, but I am sad that I no longer have this part to look forward to.  Its a bit like how I used to feel (and often still do) in January.  The magic is over, Christmas is over, nothing but the long winter ahead.  That is how I feel now, the magic is over. Now my life is going to get crazy.

I worry now that this is the start of post partum depression.  After the birth of my third child, I did not have any negative feelings.  I could not wait to get her home and start my life with her.  I just knew life with her would be wonderful.  This time around all I feel is worry that we will not be able to handle the added stress. I worry about never sleeping again, I worry about my older children and their reactions to their new baby sister.  Most of all, I worry about heading down the road of post partum depression.  I went through hell with my second child and I never want to go back there again.  I fear that I have taken my first step towards negative feelings, explosive temper tantrums, rage, and disturbing thoughts.  I tell myself all the unhelpful things others told me the last time I went through this, things like Don't think about it, Be positive, Everything will be okay.

To distract myself from this line of thinking, I ask the nurse to hand me my phone and I call and text everyone in my contact list to announce my joyous news.  My husband returns and soon it is time to go to my room and wait for my baby to be brought to me.


What was your birth story like? Do you remember it as traumatic or triumphant. Did your experience differ from the first time to subsequent times?  Did you have an overwhelming urge to tell everyone every detail of it?, If so, feel free to share your story here.

Welcome!!

New mom frustration #3: Realizing too late that your adorable baby has slept for the last five hours--and you have not.

A big welcome to any new readers and a hardy welcome back to people who have read this blog before. We have had some big excitement here. One week ago, we welcomed our fourth child (another daughter).  I must say--unbiased as I am--she is beautiful. For those of you scoring at home this makes one boy (my oldest, will be 7 soon) and three girls (second oldest is 4 and former youngest 22 months).  Its all teddy bears and tea parties from here on out.

Having four children is like bringing home a new puppy times 1000.  There is excitement, a lot of pee and poop, some crying, temper tantrums, and fighting over who gets to  hold the new arrival. Plus tons of warnings and shouts of  "Be gentle!!" --and the kids are excited too.

I started this blog with the birth of my third child to help ward off post partum depression. As anyone who knows me knows that it is a subject close to my heart. I had very few post partum symptoms last time, and I was hoping for the same experience this time.

So far, its not quite working out the way I thought it would.  I am on an emotional roller coaster. I have energy bursts, crying jags, extreme annoyance--all of which are normal in the first week post partum.  However, because I did not have  this last time, I am annoyed that I feel it this time.  I have been trying to figure out why I feel so tense this time and last time I felt so relaxed.

Of course there are obvious reasons why this time is more tense than last time. I have a toddler and new born now. I am much more tired. My older children have decided that now would be a good time to test the rules and see how crazy they can make mommy and daddy. Plus all three older children are in daycare/daycamp all day, five days a week so when they get home they are wild, running in different directions and generally not listening.  I love that I have 8 hours a day to just focus on me and the baby, but I  pay a price when they get home.  The three to four hours from the time they get home to bed time are brutal--see my facebook status update if you have any doubt.

I feel like everything is moving in fast forward. Its like I have been on speed since the birth. Not sure what to do with myself. I am often to wired to sleep, but can't focus my energy enough to accomplish something simple like unloading the dishwasher.

We have decided this is the last baby.  So I feel like I should savor every moment, because it is the last time I will experience it. I must admit that I am already sad that I won't get to feel the thrill of delivery again. Don't get me wrong,  I won't miss labor or pregnancy, but I sure do love the moment when they put the baby on my chest. I would be lying if I said I did not enjoy the attention that a new baby and a big family brings.

Other than trying to rival that show "19 Kids and Counting" I am trying to find a way to process my feelings. I have decided to document  my post partum journey.  My plan is to post every Tuesday about my experience, from the moment of birth and as the journey progresses.  I will still post about the joys/frustrations of parenting and life with four kids on other days of the week (So if you are not all that interested in babies/newborn/post partum, you may want to avoid Tuesdays).  I would like to do a series so that I can look back and remember the magic and joy that is having a new born.

I invite you to join me Tuesdays as I move through this post partum period. For my friends with older kids, maybe it will help you relive the magic, and for my friends who are still in the baby stage or about to go through it, I hope it will help you realize you are not alone. Be warned though, it won't always be pretty, sometimes will be gross and graphic. If you are squeamish, you may not want to read. For the not so squeamish, I will see you next Tuesday as the series begins.

PS: I welcome comments and feedback. I think I have the settings straight now so that you can comment here, or you can comment on the link as I post it. I look forward to having some interesting discussions.

P.PS: As a preview to the series, this is who I am writing about:

See you next week!

Hooray for spring!!..

The informality of family life is a blessed condition that allows us all to become our best while looking our worst.       ------    Marge Kennedy

Hooray!! Spring has finally sprung.  Not here where I live,  but I understand somewhere in the world it is spring and I am happy for everyone who is breaking out the bikes and the barbeques. Happy belated Easter to everyone as well.  Easter has sparked some interesting discussion in our household.  Let me explain:

The Thursday before Easter weekend,  my son asked why people are sad on God Friday and happy on Easter Sunday.  It seems my son has been talking to the neighbour child and has learned a thing or two about Easter.  I should point out that although I grew up going to Catholic school, my children have never been to church.  We have had discussions about God and Heaven (thanks to the neighbour child we also know all about death). However, we have never discussed Jesus or the concept of religion in general.  I am inadvertently raising little atheists.

 How to explain Easter to someone with no frame of reference?  Keep in mind that my son has at this point been talking to his friends and the neighbour child.  It doesn't help that we live in a predominantly Catholic neighbourhood. Plus I made a vow to always answer my children's questions honestly and to the best of my ability.

So I begin what I think is an age appropriate and brilliant explanation. I  explain that earth was once a very bad place to live, people were mean to each other and there was lots of fighting and war.  So God sent his son Jesus to earth to help the people.  I explained that we celebrate his arrival on Christmas and on Easter Jesus died (the neighbor child told him Jesus was killed) on Good Friday. On Sunday people were happy because Jesus went to heaven. That is why we are sad on Good Friday and happy on Sunday.

I know, right? I am a genius. Short and sweet.  No complicated discussions.  This parenting thing is no problem.

My son ponders this explanation, then come the questions:

 "But how did Jesus die?  If Jesus was helping the people why did they kill him?"

Me: "Uh well....Some people did not want help, and some people did not like Jesus.  No I don't know why they didn't like him, they just didn't. So they killed him."

"So he came back to life on Sunday? Did he walk around?"

Me (with laughter from my husband): "Umm no. No one saw Jesus after that, he just went back to heaven to be with God. The people were happy for him cause he got to go to Heaven, but they were sad because he wouldn't be on earth anymore."

"Maybe he was happy because he could play hockey. Dad, do they play hockey in Heaven?"

Hubby (barley looking up from blackberry): "I don't know. Probably"

My son: "What is the hockey team in Heaven called?"

Hubby:  "This is so going on facebook.  Now son let's go play hockey downstairs"



Yeah, Yeah I know. Less time in the rink and more time in Church.

What interesting discussion have you had with little ones?  Leave a comment and tell me about it!

I have a theory....

Before I got married I had six theories about raising children; now I have six children and no theories.           --------John Wilmot

Okay, so I don't have six children--yet  (just kidding, mom, calm down, breathe). I am about to have four children and I am all out of theories.

Not that I didn't have them, I did.  Lots of them.

I have been thinking lately about how different I am now that I have children.  More specifically I have been thinking about all of the things I always said I would never do...and how I do almost everything I said I wouldn't

Here are some examples:

What I said:  "When I have kids, I am going to get down to their level, look them in the eye, and treat them like the little humans they are."  What I actually do:  Barely look up from what I am doing to grunt a response. I love my kids, but they are always talking, asking questions or whining. No human could possibly be expected to listen attentively to that much volume of information.  Besides, I need to get stuff done or else we don't eat, we don't have clean clothes...

What I said: "When I have kids, I will never yell at them. I will calmly explain what they are doing wrong.  I will then come up with a natural consequence for their actions."  What I actually do:  Yell at them to "Quit doing that!!" then threaten to take away their blankie or beloved pink bear. The truth is, natural consequences are hard.  I don't want to spend my life enforcing consequences I can't possibly police.  Besides as soon as I leave Daddy in charge, natural consequences  (and discipline in general) go right out the window.

What I said: "When I have kids, I will never, ever use the phrase 'Because I said So.'  My kids deserve respect and an explanation."  What I actually do:  You can probably guess by now.  You experienced moms are probably laughing right now--yeah, yeah, I know. It was a good theory.

What I said "When I have kids, They will not disturb others in restaurants.  We will be a nice, normal family when in public."  What I actually do:  I admit it.  Sometimes I am that parent that lets my kids run wild because I don't have the energy to stop them. I throw myself on the mercy of the other patrons and hope they understand that sometimes mommy needs a meal that I didn't make and I don't have to clean up after. So we eat, leave a big mess and a giant tip.  Sorry to all the servers out there.

What I said:  "When I have kids, I will spend time with them, doing crafts, going to the park, we will not be a TV family.  What I actually do:  Well, I live in a climate where it was minus 43 for most of January and February.  Currently there is still six feet of snow outside.  I am also pregnant for the fourth time.  I don't think I need to tell you what I actually do, I will only say that cuddle time in front of the TV counts as spending time with kids.  Also, if you time it right you can buy yourself a good 30 min of free time with the right program. 

So there you have it.  All of the wonderful theories I had that were great theories--until I actually had kids.  Now I have kids and no clue what I am doing.  On the bright side, my kids haven't noticed.
 Shhhh...don't tell them...

Spend time in prison? No thanks, I have children.

Everyone should have kids. They are the greatest joy in the world. But they are also terrorists. You'll realize this as soon as they are born and they start using sleep deprivation to break you.           -------Ray Romano

We are three days into March break and I am not sure I will survive. We are stuck in the house. There is literally ten feet of snow outside and we can't go anywhere because we can't find the car.  I can't send my monkeys outside because I loose them in the snow.

Spending all day with my kids (and a rerun of Criminal Minds I watched today) has got me thinking,  Who needs homeland security?  Let my crack team of little angels interrogate suspected terrorists.  The terrorists would not last a day around my bunch. 

Here (in no particular order) is why my little monsters would be better than the most seasoned CIA or CSIS agents:

1.   Non stop questions. After a day of fielding such questions as "Is bugs bunny mean or  nice in this cartoon?", "How come Fred Flinstone's car does not have an engine but he is not pushing it with his feet?" "Why is Shaggy scared all the time?"  "Is Foghorn Leghorn going to get in trouble in this episode or is the dog going to get into trouble?" "When its a commercial in a cartoon do they slow down the camera?"      Even the most diabolical terrorist will be begging to talk about secret evil plots.

2. Sleep deprivation. Let the terrorist share a room with my youngest monster.  After a night dealing with her four am wake up--scream--eventually calm down--play and be happy until its back to bed time then scream again--eventually fall asleep only to wake up 2 hours later routine, A life in prison will seem like a holiday (At least he could sleep at night).

3. No rest for the wicked. Have the terrorist spend the day with my three year old.  As soon as his feet hit the floor in the morning, my little one will ask for a drink of milk.  Once he gets that and returns to his seat, my little one will want toast.  The day will unfold with him having to get up a million times, for a variety of reasons. These include turning on the bathroom light, retrieving pink bear from some location little arms can't reach, getting the crayons from the high shelf, retrieving a lost ball, marble or necklace. 
Just when it seems the raging sea of demands has slowed to a wave, the terrorist will hear "I m hungry." 
When the blessed relief of bedtime finally rolls around he will have the pleasure of convincing my monkey to go to bed then convince her to sleep (I hope he has better luck than I do; She has been in bed for over an hour and is still kicking the wall).  This combined with the aforementioned sleep deprivation, will drive the most seasoned terrorist insane.

4. Constant noise.  I heard that soldiers sometimes play loud annoying music to flush out terrorists.  
Please. That's child's play. 
If you want to crack a terrorist, let him watch my six year old's hockey game.  Not a real hockey game, a pretend game played in my rec room.  The periods last about 2 min (at which time the buzzer sounds, a sound made by my child but it is just as loud as at the arena) There is a goal about every 10 seconds (Which gives rise to shouts of  Yay!! yahoo!! at the top of his lungs-- just like at the arena). After the goal comes the face off, which requires a whistle and a puck drop.  On top of all of that, there is the sound of the puck hitting the floor, the wall, and the laundry baskets set up as nets.
Then the game starts again, requiring the singing of "O Canada". This happens all day everyday, until I flip my lid and threaten to throw out all of the hockey sticks, pucks and nets in our house.  Let's see if the terrorist can handle that.

5. Water torture.  Let Mr. terrorist give my kids a bath. First, wrestling them into the tub is usually just that--a wrestling match fraught with tears, punching, kicking, and the kids haven't even made it into the water.  Once they are in the water, convincing my six year old to wash his hair takes upwards of 30 min, usually resulting in me giving up and just dumping the water over his head, resulting in a blood curdling scream. The other two, hearing the scream decide they should be screaming too. 
Now there are three wet and screaming children in an enclosed space---Not good. 
Once everyone is calm, my older two decide its time to swim.  Now they are sliding in the tub splashing water everywhere, including all over the floor the towels, everything. Hopefully he manages to get the baby out in the nick of time. There would be Mr. terrorist, wet and frustrated.
When the bath comes to a merciful end, and he reaches to help my three year old out of the tub, "Splash!!" steps right into a puddle.  Nothing is more maddening than wet feet!

I could go on, but I think I have proved my point.  Should the government wish to reach me I would be more than happy to loan out my little operatives.  CSIS could save a fortune.

 Come to think of it, as I look out my window at the ten feet of snow and I contemplate another day with my munchkins, I am thinking that a stint in Guantanamo Bay doesn't sound so bad.  At least there is no snow there, right?