End of the Year Musings

Has anyone been following the story that’s all over the news lately about Caylee Anthony, the toddler that was supposedly murdered by her mother? It’s such a sad story, and one that’s really gripped me in recent days. Obviously, as the mom of two boys, I find myself sickened at even the possibility that a mom could harm her child. And all information does seem to point to the mom as the culprit. But I find it so interesting that the media has been throwing around one fact in particular, that supposedly adds to her culpability – the fact that they’ve got a recording of a phone conversation in which she mentions “the little snot-nose,” referring to her daughter.

Now I don’t know about you, but I’m certainly guilty of having said things about my kids in weaker moments – in my if-you-don’t-stop-that-right-now-I-am-going-to-lose-it moments. Just the other day, after Sam had me awake from midnight to 4 am, I called a girlfriend and said to her, “I’ve got an adorable but incredibly difficult 6-month old I want to sell – you interested?”  Now obviously I was joking. But if I were ever on trial for something, would statements like that come back to haunt me?  I mean, listen – if the mom is found guilty of what they say she did, then obviously I’m the first one to want to see her punished. But really, who among us parents hasn’t had their moments when they are just totally pushed to the limits of patience and understanding by an inconsolable infant or a tantruming toddler, and therefore said things we later regret?

I’ll give you another example. I spent weeks thinking about and picking out the perfect Hanukkah gifts for Noah. Earlier this week, when he opened a gift, he looked at it and then looked up at me and said, “What else is there?” Ugh! (But lest you think Noah is a total spoiled brat, let me assure you that my friend told me that her son did the exact same thing this week. And funny enough, both of them responded that way to the gift “Lite Brite” – that pegboard/light-up toy that I used to play with when I was little. Guess this generation isn’t so impressed by Lite Brite!) Anyway, I was so hurt and annoyed by his total lack of gratitude, after everything I’d done to plan and make Hanukkah special for him. And believe me, if someone heard me venting in private to my husband, something similar to the “little snot-nose” comment might have been overheard!

Now of course, I’m not trying to justify anything about this woman’s behavior. She’s been unforthcoming, has lied, has been deliberately deceitful in her dealings with police, and has seemed totally unconcerned with the whereabouts of that adorable little girl. But I just found it ironic that the media is throwing around the “little snot-nose” comment as proof of what a Bad Mother she must be.  I love my sons more than anything and could never, ever do them any harm. But do they drive me absolutely insane sometimes, and do I ever say things that I later might regret? For sure.  To pretend otherwise would be just plain dishonest.

So, on the eve of the new year, I resolve to reach further and further within to develop more and more patience with my boys (and also, eat better and get to the gym at least a few times a week. I’m thinking the first resolution will last a lot longer than the latter two!) I’m so lucky to have those boys, and I love them so much it makes my heart hurt sometimes. And the smiles and the hugs and the “Mommy, I love you”s make it all worth it, a million times over. I hope you’ll all find as much love and luck in the new year as I have. Happy and healthy new year to everyone – see you in 2009!

The Woes of a Nursing Mom

I need to vent a little about nursing. I know it’s my decision to do it, and no one is telling me that I have to, so I feel a little guilty even complaining. But the fact is, I am doing it, and I know it’s a good thing to do for the baby, so it annoys me a little that the world in general makes it so difficult.

I had to take a business trip to New York for just one night. So of course that means schlepping this big heavy pump, along with all the bells and whistles that go along with it – bottles, tubes, storage bags, ice pack, cooler, and so on. I left the house around 6 am after having fed Sam, and by the time I got to New York, it was noon, and I was in agony. Because of course there’s nowhere in the airport that I could have pumped, nor could I have done it in the plane. And when I got to my office, my only option was to secure a vacant conference room and spend half an hour taping pieces of paper all over all the windows.  After all my meetings were over, I needed to pump again, and the conference room that I had used the first time had been locked. So I walked all around the floor testing doors, and finally found an A-V storage closet that was about 3 feet by 3 feet, but had an outlet that I could plug into. So I sat on the floor, squeezed into this space among televisions, media carts, and easels, with my back against the door and praying that no one would try to walk in, and pumped. All I could think of was, there has got to be a better way.

Would it be so hard for every ladies restroom to have a small space that had privacy, a chair, and an electrical outlet? Even if I wanted to lock myself in a bathroom stall and sit on the toilet to pump (EW), there’s no place to plug in, so I couldn’t have anyway. Couldn’t every airport have a space where lactating moms could go to do the needful? Couldn’t malls, or fitting rooms, or coffee shops have just a very small room where moms could go for some privacy?

I know that not everyone nurses and I respect the choices that every mother makes. I just wish there was a little more public sympathy for those of us who’ve made the decision to do it. I’ve worked at many companies over the years, most of which were incredibly family-friendly and supportive of women, but only one of them had a space devoted to the needs of nursing moms. How easy would it be for every company to just take about 10 square feet of space and put a lockable door, a single chair, and an electrical outlet? To me, it doesn’t seem like it would take all that much to do. And think about how big airports are – would it be so hard to have a tiny space in each terminal where a mom could go to either nurse, if she’s with her child, or pump, if she’s not? Most of us don’t eat our lunches in the bathroom, but somehow if an infant is required to, people think that’s normal. Better that then nursing in public and risking the judgment and even wrath of fellow travelers or passengers.

Maybe by the time my own children are grown, things will be different. I’d love to be able to make my daughters-in-law laugh by telling them, “When I was your age, I had to sit on the floor of an electrical closet at work to pump.” Maybe by then such a notion will seem totally antiquated. I certainly hope so.

That's For Girls!

We got a toy catalog in the mail today, called “Back to Basics.” I happen to love this catalog, because it contains all the toys that I remember from my own childhood. Things like the “Sit n’ Spin” and “Lite Brite.” Remember those? Ah, the good old days.

So Noah saw the catalog and wanted to look through it and pick out all the things he wants to get for Hanukkah. (Note to self: we really need to start working on teaching him the real meaning of the holiday, and shift his focus off of the eight days of presents!) So he and I sat on the floor together, looking at all the pictures, while he oooohed and aaaaahed over pretty much every toy. We got to a spread that had two pages of kitchen sets, doll houses, even a mini washer and dryer toy. On every other page, he’d picked out at least 5 things he wanted, but when he saw this page, he said, “That’s for girls!” and turned the page.

I was more than a little surprised to hear him say this. He’s only three, and while I remember from graduate school that preschool children are often pretty absolute in their conceptions of gender while they are trying to figure things out, it still took me by surprise. I don’t think that my husband or I fill his head with limitations on what’s for girls and what’s for boys, and there’s not much about the way we live our lives that he would see traditional divisions of labor in our home.

But then I was thinking back on some of the things that have surprised me about having sons. When Noah was about one, he turned everything he touched, from the remote control to his little stuffed monkey to the phone, into a car – pushing it back and forth and going, “zoom, zoom.” This was before he could even talk. For his second birthday I bought him a doll (in a determined effort not to limit him to “traditional” boy’s toys!) and rather than cuddle or nurture her, as I'd seen my friends daughters do, he immediately grabbed his toy screwdriver, flipped her over, and started trying to unscrew the panel on her back that had her batteries! So I know that boys and girls can often have differences in their play, and differences in their learning styles, and all of that. It just makes me a little nervous that this young, he’s already aligning himself with outmoded stereotypes about girls and boys. What’s a mom to do?

Until next time,
Tia