Robin | Farewell Stranger

Say What You Need to Say

April 14, 2013 by Farewell Stranger ·

I’ve been thinking a lot about resentment lately. I suppose that’s normal when your entry into motherhood is a crying-filled, sleepless smackdown and you subsequently have a second baby who offers you the sort of experience you expected to have when you became a mom. At least it’s normal for me.

“This isn’t the experience with motherhood I wanted you to have,” I remember my mom saying to me one day while I cried on the phone to her when Connor was a baby.

It wasn’t the experience I wanted to have either. It’s not that I thought having a baby should be lullaby perfect, but I didn’t want it to be filled with quite so much despair.

The moment my mom said that to me is a milestone in my motherhood journey. From where I stand now I see that moment like a marker stabbed into the sand on my path, noting what came before and what would follow after. This is how the beginning will always be for you, says the sign next to it. You can’t relive those earlier months and your motherhood picture will always be shaped by this experience. You don’t get to do it again and have it be easier, more fulfilling, more fun.

No, I don’t.

But do I resent Connor?

No, I don’t.

***

I danced with Ethan this morning.

He was full of smiles when I went to get him out of bed to start the day. I fed him and then he played happily in his high chair while I had breakfast. He splashed in the bath, experimenting with what happens when he kicks his feet.

We’ve been working on sleep lately and this morning, not for the first time, he had a nice, long nap. He woke up, pink-cheeked and laughing. I fed him and then thought he might like some play time on the floor, but he didn’t. So we danced.

“Say what you need to say,” sang John Mayer, as I held Ethan around the waist and placed my hand in his small chubby one. He put his nose in the crook of my neck and leaned his cheek against mine. He let me sing and he stuck to me as I swayed, breathing him in.

***

If Ethan had been my first baby, I wouldn’t have spent so much time bouncing a screaming baby. I wouldn’t have logged hours in his room trying to get him to sleep and wondering at what point my sanity would actually break. I wouldn’t have been anxious about doing errands or shopping for groceries in case he had a colossal meltdown in public.

I would have been able to go to play dates without dreading having to go home and deal with him by myself. I would have had more hot meals. I would have had more meals, period. I would have cherished the time and his laugh and those slobbery, open-mouthed kisses without wondering why the lovely baby stuff had to be overshadowed by so very much hard stuff.

That sign in the sand is right. I don’t get a motherhood do-over, though my experience with Ethan has given me a glimpse of what might have been.

With a different baby, my early days of motherhood might have been more peaceful. They might have been more fun. They might even have been diaper-commercial sweet. With a second, very different baby, I can see it now.

***

Do I resent Connor?

No, I don’t.

I don’t resent him, neither the baby he was nor the boy he is now. But do I resent my introduction to motherhood and wish it had been different?

Sometimes. A little bit. I do.

Say what you need to say.

Filed Under: Hard things, Motherhood · Tagged With: admissions, expectations, perspective, telling the truth

Kiwi Crate: Crafts for the Uncrafty

April 10, 2013 by Farewell Stranger ·

Let’s just be honest: I suck at entertaining a four-year-old. I think I’ve reached my limit for LEGO and my attention span for playing cars is about 4 seconds. I’m really trying, but this is one part of motherhood I find totally hard.

In theory, I think crafts are great. Connor actually likes them and I don’t mind pretending I have some crafty talent. The problem is that I don’t really have the craft gene and, while Connor likes doing crafts, he’s often entertained only slightly longer than I am playing dinosaurs so it’s a little disheartening to find craft ideas and gather all the stuff and not have it take more than six minutes.

But hark! I hear the gentle call of a crafty fairy godmother.

The lovely folks at Kiwi Crate got in touch to see if I’d like to try one of their kits. Um, yes please! If someone wants to send me a box of stuff that will help me play with my kid I will not say no.

I’m going to tell you about our experience, because I really like what they offer, but first here’s what Kiwi Crate is in their own words:

Kiwi Crate is a monthly subscription service, targeted at kids ages 3-7. We deliver a box to your child each month that’s designed around a certain theme (think dinosaurs, garden, superheroes, space.) In each box are 2-3 carefully designed and kid-tested projects, which cover a range of developmental areas and subjects, including art, science, and imaginative play. All the materials and inspiration to encourage creativity and curiosity are included – you just supply the kid!

Now, a box of craft supplies is fab enough. But one that is fun, artsy and with a science or learning element? That totally scores me points in my Am I a Good Mom spreadsheet. And these kits are done really well.

We got a box that had two crafts – a wind sock and two wind cars. See?

The box has EVERYTHING you need. Even bits of tape where tape is called for. And I love that they include scissors because, while we happen to have our kid scissors accessible, they could very easily be buried in our craft box in the basement.

Connor chose to do the wind sock first, so we checked out all the supplies and pulled out the pieces we needed for that one.

Next up: decorating the sock with the full set of oil pastels provided (which gave me a serious case of nostalgia). Connor loved this part and used ALL the colours.

Then there were some steps that I didn’t get pictures of because there’s only so much multitasking an uncrafty mama can do. We glued the ribbons on (using glue dots – easy peasy) and got the wind sock all put together. I helped a little bit but the little dude could really do this whole thing almost entirely on his own.

Cool, right? And what I loved about this one is that we also got a (kid-friendly) Beaufort scale and an observation card to see how strong the wind is. (0 = Calm, no wind. Your wind sock is completely still. 1 = Light, barely a wind. The ribbons on your wind sock move a little. 2 = Light breeze. Leaves are moving and rustling lightly. You can feel the wind on your skin. And so on.)

We hung the wind sock on a tree on our deck and watched the wind blow the ribbons. It’s still there, actually. A nice little burst of colour outside the window.

The next day we donned our Superman jammies and made wind cars. This craft was great because there were supplies for two (so you can race them), which meant I got to make one of my very own and the four-year-old didn’t get any input into the design. Ahem.

We got to decorate both the base and the sail, and putting the cars together was a cinch – wheels, straws, tape, and some dough. (Can you tell which one is mine?)

The idea is to make them go using your breath.

Seriously, these kits are fantastic. We had enough supplies plus some extras just in case. There are cards inside with ideas for parents to talk about the concepts (e.g. What else can make your car go? (A fan?) If you put something on your wind car, is it easier or harder to blow the car?) and the Kiwi Crate website has even more resources.

Kiwi Crate was recently featured on Good Morning America, the Today Show, In Style, Parents Magazine, and they have a partnership with Pottery Barn Kids. They were also just recently named one of Dr. Toy’s 10 best creative products of 2012, and I can totally understand why they’re getting all this attention. It takes a lot to make me rave about something, but I’m raving about this.

You can get a monthly subscription or an annual one, and they offer sibling add-ons (the “no fight” crate – brilliant!) as well as options for giving this as a gift. I think this would make a really good gift. *bats eyelashes* (And Canadians, you can get these too. Kiwi Crate is a U.S.-based company but they’ve just started shipping to Canada.)

And—last thing!—Kiwi Crate has a big giveaway going on Facebook right now where you can enter to win everything in Kiwi Crate’s DIY Materials craft shop and a brand new craft table from Pottery Barn. (Worth $750 and is open to US and Canada.)

And that’s my rave review. Gold star. Two thumbs up. Recommended wholeheartedly by this mom.

Disclosure: I was provided one Kiwi Crate box to try and tell you about, but the side effects of inspiration and sanity saved are all my own.

Filed Under: Happy things, Stuff I like · Tagged With: favourite activities

Deep Breaths and Thank Yous

April 8, 2013 by Farewell Stranger ·

I do have a tendency to barf things out there, don’t I? Sometimes it just helps to put it out there instead of pretending things are okay and silently screaming.

So, thank you. Thank you for listening and commenting and sending me messages to let me know you’re out there. It helps. It really does.

One of the worst things about this is feeling alone. And none of us is, which is the lovely thing about writing here. I get reassured that some of you have been here and know what this feels like, and some of you reading this realize it’s not just you either.

We’re not alone.

The good news is that today was better. We’ve adopted a new strategy for dealing with nights because, while I don’t feel like I know what I’m doing with this whole getting-babies-to-sleep thing, I do know one thing: My very chunky baby does not need to be fed two or three times a night. So I’m currently living in that weird place where the air is mostly filled with hope but the scent of desperation still lingers, and I’m afraid that if I breathe too deeply I’ll inhale the fear lurking outside. It’s the fear that this won’t work, because if this doesn’t work I have no earthly idea what to do next. But for now fear shall not rule; I’m going to keep taking deep breaths.

Okay.

Let’s talk about something else for a minute. Speaking of thank yous, I so appreciate your support for the stuff I’m writing elsewhere. I’m in full swing with my new Yummy Mummy Club blog, starting with a post about second chances and a bit of a thank-goodness-it’s-not-me post about babysitting my brother’s twins. I’ve got another one coming up this week where I’m looking for advice on helping a four-year-old make friends and I’d love it if you’d look out for that one too.

And, since it’s one of the most common search terms that leads people here, I’ve shared a version of my postpartum rage story on Huffington Post. I just think we need to talk about that more.

Filed Under: Postpartum depression · Tagged With: community, gratitude, hope, we're not alone

Grey Skies and Runaway Trains

April 7, 2013 by Farewell Stranger ·

It rained yesterday.

We don’t get a lot of rain here. We get snow, which is mostly accompanied by brilliant sunshine, but grey skies are rare. It’s one of the reasons I love living here.

Last week spring made a valiant effort to overtake winter. The sun shone, the temperature rose, and the mounds of snow by the sides of the roads melted. I was living in the sunshine and loving it. But over the last few days the skies have turned grey.

Click for image source

Life is not always sunny, of course. But for me it has been sunny more often than not, and I’ve been able to pause in those catch-your-breath moments and really soak it in. But my ability to see the sun can disappear as quickly as the sun itself.

I don’t function when I don’t get enough sleep, and I’m not getting enough sleep. And I’m losing hope that I will suddenly, miraculously start getting enough. After a long week followed by a couple of rough nights, the rain entered my life yesterday – both literally and metaphorically.

I’ve been here before and I know exactly where this sleep deprivation road leads. And I have no desire to take that path again. I don’t want to feel that way and I don’t want to have to say, Actually, it happened again the second time too.

I want, with every fibre of my being, to be able to push the emergency button and make this runaway train stop. But I’m feeling the desperation an engineer must feel when he knows the train is going to hit something in the tracks. It’s there, it’s in front of me, and the momentum feels like too much right now. It’s bigger than me and I’m not in control of the outcome.

I was hoping today would be better, but instead I woke up to snow. It’s time to hit the brakes.

Wish me luck.

Filed Under: Postpartum depression · Tagged With: admissions, call for back-up, meltdown, sleep

Good Times

April 4, 2013 by Farewell Stranger ·

If you turn left off our street and then drive just around a short bend, you’ll be driving straight towards a wall of mountains whose view fills the entire horizon. On a clear day every peak and every sheer face of ice and snow is visible. On a sunny day, the light actually reflects off of them.

To get to my parents’ house—20 minutes from here in the adjacent town—I turn right at the end of that road and then take a left. The road leads up and I drive, picking up speed to reach the faster limit as the road turns into highway. My adrenaline and excitement pick up speed as well, and I smile when this sunny song comes on the radio.

A very good friend of mine
Told me something the other day
I’d like to pass it on to you,
‘Cause I believe what he said to be true

We’re here for a good time
Not a long time (not a long time)
So have a good time
The sun can’t shine every day

There’s something about this road. To the south is a valley where the land dips out of sight, making it feel as though this highway is at the top of the world.

I love this drive.

It never fails to leave me paused in time, especially on a sunny day (which, around here, come often). Tucked behind trees I see houses and imagine living in them in this beautiful location just beyond the city. Here and there are abandoned barns and the occasional piece of rusting farm equipment. It’s a landscape that speaks to me despite having grown up in a city known more for flowers and ocean than wide open spaces and bales of hay.

Where do you live? Do you notice what’s around you or does the scenery fade into the background of your days? Does anything ever catch your eye?

It’s easy to be overwhelmed by all the stuff we have to do. The first part of my day today was a rush of tidying and cleaning after Connor had a massive nosebleed in the middle of the night. We had blood on clothes, beds, carpets. I was desperate to get the laundry’s critical path right before leaving for a walk with a friend in the afternoon lest we end the day with no sheets and a pile of sopping wet bedding. I managed to get all the beds stripped and one load of laundry started and then another load started and the first load finished before I had to leave the house.

I walked with my friend in the crisp spring air and after our walk I hit the highway.

…Every year has its share of tears,
Every now and then it’s gotta rain

Things aren’t perfect. There’s always laundry and the dishwasher seems to require emptying every time I turn around. Rich has been sick and Connor has been sick and I’m tired. But life can’t be perfect all the time.

We’ve had our share of rain. I certainly did in my last postpartum phase. That wasn’t just rain – it was a massive, ongoing deluge.

But right now life is good.

The sun can’t shine every day, but the rain brings perspective.

I believe that to be true, so while my sun is out I’m going to bask in the good times.