Twitterpated

Uli:   Mama, do you love me?

Me:   I do, Sweetheart. I love you with all my heart!

Uli:    {nods & shrugs}  I love bananas.

March is over. It came in growling, its slumpy dark clouds and rain smashing my spring is near mood back down to less than joyful. Then the record-breaking eighty degree warmth roasted us all out of our sweaters and had us burrowing under our beds to rediscover our winter-banished shorts and tanks. At the same time it dashed the maple syrup industry's opportunities and squeezed the apple trees' blossoms out from the trees tips many weeks too soon, setting the farmers all aflutter (and creating some not insignificant a-fears). Even as the crocuses bloomed and we swatted the year's first mosquitoes, the threat of a last horrifying frost lingered in the back of everyone's minds. (And continues to linger.)

The last few days of March looped back to seasonally-appropirate gloom and damp, but left us with the hunger for summer. Forget spring, summer will be here before you know it! Summer, my true love. Or, if you're not me, then perhaps March shocked you by presenting summer far too soon and you're now thankful for the retreat back into regular spring. April's clouds, rain, mud:  they make you happy because they don't require sitting in front of a fan sipping iced tea though what's wrong with that I just don't know.

Uli embraces this novel non-snow-covered world with her whole soul, gathering and arranging the pinecones (illicitly gathered from the neighbor's yard, though I dare say Nancy wouldn't mind) and snapping flowers off by the head to present to Mama (sweet, though what do you do with ten stemless blooms a day?). I watch her attempt to scramble up trees after the squirrels, scoop garden rocks out of the beds to create towers on the steps, and shiver with the excitement of holding a slug and I remind myself that though it means muddy shoes and sweaty hair that she is very anti-washing I'm witnessing a child falling in love (again) with the outdoors.

It makes me smile. It makes me fall in love with my daughter that much more.

~TPropson

The Mind Locust (i.e. TV) and What I'm Doing About It

On the one hand, she became a slave to television;  on the other hand, she expressed her contempt for nearly everything she saw...

~from A Prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving



I watch too much television. I wish I could claim my boobtube time is all spent viewing various PBS shows, but that would be a lie. I watch The Secret Circle, for goodness' sake (though, in my defense, I was thinking about deleting it from my TiVo list. It's getting too scary...).

I've felt an ever-growing personal challenge to pursue the life I want by being more of the person I want to be {just that... }. I don't want to be a mom that watches television, I want to be a mom that reads. I want to model a healthy lifestyle for my girls. The requirement being, of course, that I be a consistent and positive model.

So, where to start? With reading, of course. Not just reading in front of the girls, but reading about reading. I've recently re-read and found pages of inspiration in

Montessori from the Start: The Child at Home, from Birth to Age Three
by Paula Polk Lillard & Lynn Lillard Jessen.

If I'm going to focus on the written word (and, of course, for children my girls' ages, illustrations) and turn my back on television, I need to ensure we offer good quality literature in our household. I've recently finished reviewing my own bookcases and have also been weeding our stash of children's books (which is a grand one) and pitching (or at least packing away) the books that I find lacking in literary or developmental value.

Montessori from the Start suggests those caring for children:

Have books for the child under six years old that are based on reality, rather than fantasy. The young child needs to explore the real world before he can appreciate a fantasy world created by adults...

When the entire world is out there to be discovered (polar bears. thunderstorms. DNA. Greek food. knitting. rhyme schemes. lava. gravity. the Netherlands. meters. embryonic development.) why add talking purple mice in Candyland into the mix? Focusing on our actual world is the starting-point. Once that's established, then add-in the imaginary lands and beings and have at it.

(Disclosure:  I admit, as a fan of imaginative storytelling, I've struggled with this concept, but I have decided it does make good sense. It's only by comparing/contrasting my favorite fantasy or science fiction with other "straight" genres that I can fully relish the subjects and structure of each. Basic [reality] first, and after that---no limits! Also, my entertainment requirements as an adult--familiar with the world in general--are different than those of a child. Even should be different, perhaps?)

So, as I said, I've been going over our bookshelves at home, reviewing each board and picture book individually under the new reality and quality guidelines. I've made some exceptions to the pool of books my girls will be handling (for instance, I adore adore ADORE reading aloud the poetic word-music in Bear Snores On and am keeping it out even though it doesn't fit a strict "based on reality" requirement). But most of the books out now meet the young child guidelines I was looking for.

Some additional ideas from Lillard & Jessen:

...[T]he number of books available should be limited: four is the maximum for a child under two years old. The child's favorite book of the moment can remain out, but rotate other books from a supply in a closet.

This one is next on my list. Uli is three, so she should be able to handle more books and playthings out and about without being overwhelmed. However, Ilse is not yet one. So... what to do, what to do? And as far as rotation goes, would we rotate books daily? Weekly? And who (Mom or Dad) would be in charge of the rotation?

In addition to the books freely accessible to your child, keep a supply of books of good literature and beautiful illustrations in a closed cupboard or closet shelf. These are books for you to read out loud to your child each evening before bed or at a special time during the day... What is important at this stage is the child's absorption of good language and expressive thought.

Done!

Choose books you find interesting. Your child is not likely to grow up loving reading if he associates it with parental boredom or an obligatory parental duty.

This was part of my weeding project. Done. Boring-to-Mama books are packed away! Those left are books I truly enjoy reading with the girls.

Just as essential as reading to your child, he must see you reading for your own pleasure...it is a good idea to set aside a designated time for your own daytime reading.

I do read daily in front of them now, though, not at the same time each day. I'll work on that (I'm thinking mornings before work or just before we get them ready for bed).

I'm also focusing on reading only "real" books infront of the girls, versus reading my Kindle. I love the Kindle and bring it to work and keep it on the nightstand, but if what I'm going for is to model reading/enjoying literature it's important to me that my girls know that when I'm reading I'm actually reading a book and not surfing the web or checking Facebook. So book books it is. For now, anyway.

And we'll see how it goes. Cutting down my screen time. Modeling reading. Reading aloud from quality books. Continuing to include stories as part of bedtime preparation. I have high hopes.

on the move

"M" is for March Movement!

Earlier this month Ilse started to crawl forward. She's still honing this particular skill, but she now reliably moves toward her toys/sister/cats/[and delectible treats called magazines] more often than backward and away from them.

She just gained the ability to push herself from prone into a seated position. Mostly. She still struggles with this occasionally, flailing backward and screaming about the indignity of babyhood and the groveling it requires.

She has also this March started to insist on pulling herself up to a standing position. The couch. The coffee table. The bookshelves. She hoists herself up on them, joyfully looks around  (King of the World!) and then falls. On her face. And that makes her mad. But not mad enough to quit, oh no.

Yesterday, March 14th, 2012, Ilse stood up on her own. Not pulling herself up using the couch. Middle of the floor. She was sitting, then leaned forward, got her little tootsies planted, and pushed off from the ground. One had stayed on her pop-up toy. Legs extended. She wasn't fully upright, but she was standing. Not sitting. Not kneeling. Not rolling. Not laying. Standing.

And then falling. Plop. Right onto her diaper. We made eye contact.  Me:  I can't believe you just did that!  Her: Did you see me? I'm awesome!

She kind of repeated it once, with this downward dog pose, but that's as near as I got to catching it on camera.

She's only seven months old, but she's not gonna let a little something like age (or lack thereof) stop her. Baby is on the move!

Ilse is 7 Months Old

Seven months ago, my dear one, we saw your sweet face for the first time. You were lovely and had the squished newborn head and you nursed and nursed and we held you and cuddled you and were so happy to welcome you into our family.

Today we celebrated the past seven months and look forward to the seventy years more at least we have you (and I like to think you'll have us).

We love all of you: your rosy pinky peachy skin,  your shrill screams as you demand the remote,  the little dreads you twist into your blonde hair when you sleep.

We celebrate seven months of successful nursing. Seven months of diapers (I swear! I love cloth!). Seven months of health. Seven months of smiles.

And just this past month, as you roll and roll and crawl backward and try repeatedly to pull yourself up to the coffee table only to invariably fall and smash your poor noggin, we've begun to celebrate your independence.

How happy it is to snuggle with you. Sing to you. Laugh with you.

Toothless smiles. Need I say more?

Today we celebrate you, my sweet baby girl. All seven months of you. Such love.

Whatcha Readin' on World Read Aloud Day?

Today we celebrate World Read Aloud Day: a day I didn't even know existed until yesterday, but one with which I feel a true connection.

Until I left home for college I had stories read aloud to me daily, and I suppose I credit my parents' dedication to reading aloud to us children for my continuing love affair with literature. Of course I can't remember each and every book ever read to me, but brainstorming for this post I came up with the following dear memories:

Being scared to death of (but also thrilled by) the snap flap sound effect from a story my mother would read aloud at bedtime (pretty sure it was it the sail of a boat in a storm). While I can't exactly remember the story itself, I do remember being read to, and the thrill of those sounds. 

My father reading aloud from the allegorical Tales of the Kingdom during at least one year's Hanukkah celebration. 

Daily lunchtime readings, during which our mother read aloud to us books by Madeline L'Engle, Laura Ingalls Wilder, C.S. Lewis, Roald Dahl, E. B. White, Astrid Lindgren, and so many more. Nourishing the mind and body! 

Today I'm happy to be carrying-on the read aloud tradition with my girls. We're not yet up to chapter books, but my husband and I spend time each day reading aloud a variety of board and picture books. And one of my favorite times of day (should tantrums be avoided. And, in fact, as a way to avoid tantrums) is our nighttime routine.  Mama reads a story aloud (Uli listens, Ilse chews on a board book) and then Daddy reads a poem. It's one of the sweetest times of day, and a routine I hope we continue for years to come.

So, this is my family's World Read Aloud Day. Will you be reading anything aloud today? 
 

one of these is not like the others

Since Uli was tiny, she's had a hair-twirling, finger-sucking soother. 

We tried to talk to her about it. Encouraged her to stop. Pointed-out the marks her finger-sucking left on her skin. 

To no avail.

So we let it go. We didn't threaten her with future braces, nor did we attempt to shame her for being babyish. Just... let it go. Trusted her. And she carried on.

Until one day. Quite recently...

We realized everything had changed. We couldn't even remember when it had happened. 

But never fear. 

The tradition lives on.

Last Week in Review

My three-year-old was ill off-and-on all through the midnight hours one night. Came into my room and crawled into bed with me the next morning, as usual. Responded to my question, "Does your stomach still hurt?" by vomiting directly onto my sheets and pillow.

The baby carefully held my current riveting read and then not-so-carefully freed the book from its cover.

I found several more grey hairs.

Three-year-old cuddled with me all day when I was sick. Told me she loves me. Got ready for bed each evening without any tantrums.

Baby added arching from palms to toe-tips to her repertoire (is already very handy at army-crawling backward). Smiled and smiled. Did not get sick.

And now it's Monday. Of a new week. Let us all have a good one!

Two Weeks of Pumping:: A Photo-log

I pump breastmilk while at work, usually twice a workday (occasionally just once, at mid-day, if meetings are back-to-back), and I kept a photolog of the past two weeks' worth of pumping. Just because. Why not. And here are the pics!

From what I've read, I'm pumping more than many woman may expect to pump. From Kellymom:

What is normal when it comes to pumping output and changes in pumping output?

...Many moms think that they should be able to pump 4-8 ounces per pumping session, but even 4 ounces is an unusually large pumping output.

It is quite normal to need to pump 2-3 times to get enough milk for one feeding for baby (remember that the pump cannot get as much milk as a baby who nurses effectively)...

As you can see from the photos, I am easily expressing more than 4 oz each pumping session, though that's most because of my right breast; my left provides much less, especially on the second/afternoon pumping.

What's with the way more (crazy lots more) milk on the right side? I have no idea. 

I try and put Ilse to nurse on the left side often. And I pump on that side as often (if not even a little bit more, for a few extra minutes) than the right. But, for whatever reason, most of the milk pumped comes from my right breast. If I weren't pumping I wouldn't even know. I don't look/feel uneven, and overall there's plenty of milk for the baby, so I'm not complaining.  It's just... a little strange, maybe? I don't know if it's really that I make less milk on that side or whether the let-down on that side just refuses to relax for the pump (but might be just fine for my baby while nursing?).

Milk-powered!

Whichever side she's getting her milk from, it's workin' for her. And me. I'm so so glad we haven't had any nursing troubles like I had with Uli. Such a relief. There might be something to giving things a second chance.