Picture Perfect

I realize that most parents think their newborn bundle of joy is one of the most beautiful babies they have ever seen, but my daughter really was above average on the beauty scale. She was born with this thick dark head of hair and her eyes were framed by long, lush eyelashes. People couldn’t look at her without oohing and aahing and more than once it was suggested that we should enter her face into the coveted Parenting Magazine’s yearly photography contest. Of course I would never market my child like that, but I had to agree that she would probably win.

Among the accolades, there was only one dissenting voice. My father has always clearly made his opinion known; “All babies are ugly.” I took his comments with a grain of salt. True, I had seen some ugly babies – be honest, who hasn’t – but my daughter was definitely not part of that group.

Fast forward 3 ½ years. I am expecting my second child. Memories of my daughter’s beginning months flood my mind and I decide to take a good old walk down memory lane. I open a random photo album. Wait a minute! This is not my daughter! Someone has switched out her pictures and replaced them with a kind of ugly baby. This child has chipmunk cheeks that look full of nuts, hair that can only be described as mohawkish, and her eyes are looking suspiciously cross-eyed. I try to comprehend exactly what I am seeing. Wow, I have been duped by friends, family, and what must be motherly hormones. My dad was right all along: Babies are ugly.

When my second child decided to make his presence known, I feel like I was able to successfully take off my rose colored glasses. I took the oohs and aahs with a grain of salt, and basically listened to my dad, “Yep, he looks like all other babies…kind of ugly…but he’ll turn out okay in a few months.” I was able to admit that, yes, his cheeks did remind me of Alfred Hitchcock.

Of course, now he’s 3 months old and is surely above average in the handsome baby scale. That ugly baby syndrome is a thing of the past. And my daughter is absolutely gorgeous. And, no, I won’t be looking at baby picture albums a few years down the road to prove it. I will instead remember the way my children made me melt when they said things like “you’re a great mommy” or “I love you” or when they smiled and laughed with me or when they asked me for “some loving.” There is nothing more beautiful than that.

3 Tips One Never Admits to Learning from Experience

Throughout history, knowledge has been gained from a variety of sources. Books, and now the internet, offer information on whatever topic you can come up with. Scientists often employ the method of observation to discover great truths. Go to any school and you are likely to find teachers passing off knowledge left and right. On the job training allows one to learn from experience while being guided by a trained professional. And then there is what I would call the “living life” method – maybe one of the best ways to learn. The following is a list of informative tidbits. You will never hear admittance that these were learned from the “living life” method, so don’t even try get it.

1. Eggs explode – That’s right ladies and gents. If you have the hankering for some hard boiled eggs, go ahead and begin the preparation. Pot? Check. Eggs? Check. Water? Check. Boil for 5-10 minutes? Simple in theory, but it might be suggested that a timer would be useful. If you don’t use a timer, you might just forget about the eggs. You’ll likely head off to make the beds, straighten the living room, and take a bath while the offspring are sleeping. Wow, you got a lot done! Now you can sit down and read some with your child. “Honey, did you here that pop?” you question as you take a break from the fifth book of the morning and go investigating. That is when the distinct smell of cooked eggs will hit you. It won’t be overwhelming, just enough to remind you “Oh no, the eggs!”  There is no need to rush. The eggs have already exploded. Simply turn off the stovetop, move the pot off the burner, say a prayer of thanksgiving that the house didn’t burn down and start the cleanup process. Check the walls, floors and ceiling for bits of eggs.
2. Hold on to the stroller’s safety strap. Because you are such a great mother, you realize the importance of getting your child out into the fresh air. Normally you wear your little one, but you have decided to start the exercise regimen that’s sure to get you into the best shape of your life. Thus the need for the stroller you pull out of the shed that is specially built for the active parent. There are a number of features to help ensure the safety of your child during your jaunt into nature: 3 big wheels, an easy to use brake, and an elaborate safety belt are things you are familiar with. Do not dismiss the safety strap that belongs firmly attached to your arm. Even if you think you have things under control, you don’t. You might just hear someone calling your name from behind. As you stop, you note that the incline you are on is very minimal and so you ignore the brake and the safety strap, let go of the stroller, and turn around. The look of horror on the caller’s face will alert you that something is awry. Your head whips around and that same look of horror transfers to your face as you see your child picking up speed on that insignificant incline, stroller tipping back and forth and then –as if in slow motion-you see the stroller gently lay itself down in the ditch on the side of the road. Be very glad that the safety harness is so elaborate.
3. Do not take your smart phone into the bath. Your husband has warned you any number of times that things like smart phones can’t get wet. Yes, you are his wife, not his child. Yes, you are an adult. Yes, it is your right to make your own decisions. Yes, you are very careful. Despite these very true statements, there are times when you can listen to the advice of your husband without taking offense. This is one of those times. You are basically playing with fire…I mean water.. Even if you somehow make it through 50 baths without damaging the phone, one small misstep can ruin your perfect record. For example, you might always put the toilet seat down before the bath so that you can place the smart phone there when it’s time to get out. However, while in your bath, your cute little 4-year-old girl might come into the room needing to go pee-pee. After she leaves, you finish the chapter of the e-book you were reading, and place the smart phone on the toilet seat…SPLASH!!!...that is no longer down because your cute 4-year-old daughter lifted it up to go to the bathroom. By a miracle, your phone may survive, but why take the chance?

There you have it: 3 tips for those who would rather not learn from experience

Shades of Breastfeeding

500 feet away and one glimpse at mommy, known to a newborn only as “milk bottle,” sends baby into the dance of the mouth; the tilting towards one side, with a half lift of the corresponding side of the lip. If there isn’t an immediate redirection by mommy towards the child, the grunting begins. From there, things just escalate and if you don’t want your pride and joy screaming like the entire world has deserted them, the only solution is to pull out that “nursey” and shove it into his gyrating mouth. Oh the joys of breastfeeding! Let’s explore the many nuances of babies enjoying their meal.

If your “nurseys” and baby have been communicating beforehand, you can eliminate that desperate sucking while your milk lets down and give instant gratification nursing. Eyes closed, gulp, moan, gulp, moan… Everyone is happy. The baby is in his own little version of heaven, and you’re feeling pretty proud of your ability to satisfy your offspring so completely.

Then you have your bored nursing. There’s nothing for the baby on N.P.R, no one is using high-pitched babble to entertain. The kid thinks “I might as well nurse, there’s nothing else to do.” Eyes are roaming. Suck, release, suck, release, taste with the tongue for a couple of licks, and repeat. There is a war going on inside of you. Yes, it’s pretty darn cute, but can he stop already? You might even try to disengage at this point, but more often then not, unsatisfied grunting will ensue.

Thus far, breastfeeding seems pleasant. However, the slight stomach discomfort feeding has not yet been introduced. This can last for hours – more often than not, sleeping hours - and is not for the weak in heart. Go ahead and try rocking the baby to sleep. Readjust the cherub into different positions. Walk up and down the halls when you would rather be laying down dreaming of mommy time. On the pain scale, breastfeeding wins out, even if it seems miserable at the time. Your baby’s eyebrows are furrowed into a frown. Hands and arms flail about, accompanied by deep, guttural grunts. More latching on and releasing, but this time, the tongue is pushing the “nursey” away and the mouth is yanking it back. Keep fingernails cut short or you will likely find reminders of this particular feeding on yourself or your baby.

The colicky nursing is just miserable for everyone. This is where the love/hate relationship comes in. “Give me the milk – I love the milk;” “yuck, is that milk? I hate the milk.” Please see previous paragraph for alternative suggestions to feeding.

Finally there’s the half-asleep nursing. It’s the middle of the night and the baby’s diaper needs changing – again. The little one is out of it at this point – eyes are squinting and he’s wondering why the lights are so bright. Of course, as soon as he casts his sights on you, he instantly demands another round of mommy milk. As soon as the mouth attaches to the “nursey,” the eyes close and almost instantly he is pitched back into the depths of a dreamless sleep. He will remain there for some time unless you happen to detach yourself from his lips. It might work, or grunting may ensue.

Real milk: More complex than you’d think. Maybe not always as pleasant as you had hoped, but maybe there are times when it’s even more enjoyable than you had imagined it would be.

A Gardener's Woes

Wow. 

That’s really all you can say to utter chaos, which is what a lot of vegetable gardens look like at the end of the season. Let’s face it; many of them look like it near the beginning of the season as well. On the edges of the garden you find beautifully manicured lawns. Meanwhile, the fencing and anti-deer pie pans that surround the garden plot are doing an excellent job of protecting, thistles, dandelions, plantain, and about 30 additional very prolific and deep rooted weeds. Could there really have been tomato, cucumber, and pepper plants in that mess? Wait! That might be an okra plant! Yep, with extremely tough and old produce attached to it. Maybe the seeds can be used for next year?

By July, you tend to forget the excitement that accompanied spring; the plans that were drawn and executed; the neat little rows of veggies that sprouted to life; the first gathering of radishes. Yes, the deer that ate off the tops of the peas dampened the spirit for a short time, but the distinct smell of the tomato leaf quickly enlivened it once again. By July, however, pickings are becoming more bothersome. You have already weeded the garden three times and mulching with leaves was not as successful as you had originally hoped. Squash bugs have eradicated the hundreds of blooming fruit that had excited you weeks earlier. Blossom end rot is showing up on tomatoes again and you are out of Epsom salt. The ground is hard and dry and the heat is burning the pepper plants. The heat and gnats are also keeping you inside.

It gets so that you can hardly bring yourself to walk out to the garden. Every time you glimpse its deterioration, you berate yourself with thoughts of what could have been. Neglect is the cause of much guilt. By September you wonder if you will even have a garden next year. Just in case, you better pull up and burn the tomato plants, compost the other plants, and plow all those weeds under. You think about enriching the soil with leaves and horse manure, but never get around to it before the ground freezes. The winter cover crop, a great idea, is never executed.

For those who were diligent the entire growing season, know that you are envied. Know that there are many out there who want to be like you. Know that your gardens are seen by those who then go home and weep over the state of theirs. But take heart, discouraged gardener, winter is coming, with its cold, dreary, short days. And during those long nights sitting by the fire, the itch to grow something will get stronger and stronger. It might start with the first seed catalog that comes in the mail. Or maybe it was using up the last of the canned green beans that did it. Whatever triggered the thoughts, new plans begin to form. Grow boxes would look great outside the back window and would make watering a whole lot easier. The existing garden should be expanded so that there’s room for a couple rows of corn. Maybe straw would work better than leaves when thinking about mulch…