Validation

As mothers, we’re constantly being told to trust our instincts, and that we know best, so why do we find ourselves questioning our choices as often as we do, and more to the point, seeking validation for the choices we have either already made, or really want to make?

There was an article recently in the British Medical Journal titled “Six months of exclusive breastfeeding: how good is the evidence?” It was an opinion piece where 3 of the 4 authors are, or have recently been employed or received funding from baby food and formula companies. The media in the UK grabbed hold of this article and in true media style, went rampant with the sensationalist headlines and anti-breastfeeding rhetoric. The same day, Unicef & the WHO, amongst many other organizations and respected authorities worldwide had refuted the claims and recommendations.

The thing is, there are a lot of women who aren’t going to see what Unicef or the WHO, or any other entities had to say on the matter, whether it’s because they just don’t know that anything was said to the contrary because it’s not on the front page of their daily paper or the nightly news on tv, or because they don’t want to know.

Instead, I’m seeing women who were intent on waiting to wean their babies suddenly deciding that because of this opinion piece that the media took as gospel, and despite all of the leading health authorities stating that their recommendations haven’t and aren’t changing, that they’re going to wean their babies early. I’m seeing women who weaned their babies at 8 weeks use this article to justify the decision they made, and to reinforce their justification that they did what they did when they did because the ‘authorities’ can never make up their mind and are always changing it. I’m seeing women smugly proclaim that “human milk isn’t best for human babies,” and even going so far as to say that formula is better because it does have what’s needed.

I feel like in one foul swoop, we’ve been set back 50 years. I feel like the cockiness of the human race has reached all new heights. Mankind has convinced women that Mother Nature has gotten it wrong. For millions of years, nature got it wrong, but now we know better, right?

I guess that in the end, the ultimate validation for me is knowing that in the event of the Zombie Apocalypse, I can continue to nurture and nourish my baby boy while on the run and kicking zombie ass, as nature intended.

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A boy & his dog

Unconditional love.

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Just Like Your Mother

I was walking around the house last night after putting the monkey to bed, closing blinds and checking that windows and doors were closed and locked and I had one of those ‘just like mum’ moments.

Too many women dread hearing those words, getting upset or offended by the comparison but I think I could be nothing but proud if someone were to tell me I was just like my mum.

She had no methods to her parenting, she didn’t read how to books, have the internet or attend classes and support groups on how to raise her four children. If we woke in the night crying or upset, she was there to comfort and cuddle us back to sleep, or to take us back to bed with her and dad. She nursed us all as babies, and cooked and prepared fresh, homecooked meals every day, providing us with healthy breakfasts, lunches and snacks. We got more than plenty of fresh air, sunshine and activity. We were socialized and never lacked for peers and playmates. She always read to us, and would sit listening to us read to her. She helped us with homework, read our assignments and the stories we wrote, praised us for every picture and painting we drew, even if it left more paint off the paper than on it.

If it takes being like my mother to raise my son as well, then let it be.

I Don’t Care

What have we come to when we’re told we shouldn’t care, or we find ourselves saying we don’t care about anyone else’s baby or how they’re raised? Why shouldn’t I care? Why exactly shouldn’t we care?

Yes, it’s not my baby, but someone else’s baby is going to grow up to be my child’s schoolmate, or best friend, boyfriend or girlfriend, the mother (or father) of his children. Someone else’s baby is going to grow up to be the policemen,  firefighter, doctor, nurse or teacher of the future. Someone else’s baby may grow up to be the man or woman who sits, faced with the decision on whether or not to wage war on another nation. My son may be that man one day. Why shouldn’t you care that how I raise him now will impact the decision he makes later? When are we allowed to start caring about someone else’s baby? Why aren’t we allowed to care now?

Society has become increasingly more selfish and insular. I, Me and Mine matters more than We, Us & Ours. We have become so quick to take offense. We raise walls preemptively in defense, and to what end? What has become of our sense of community, of our care for others, including your child as much as mine?

When you tell me that you don’t care how I raise my baby, you’re telling me that you don’t care about my son and his well being. When you tell me that I shouldn’t care about anyone else’s baby or how they’re raised, you’re telling me to be more selfish and more self-centered than I want to be.

I want my son to grow up to be the man who doesn’t hesitate to stop and help you when you collapse on the sidewalk, rather than following the crowd and stepping over you. I want him to know that I’m not the only one that cares that he grows up to be that man, and I don’t want him to be the only one in a crowd who stops to help.

Next time you’re being shouted down and told you shouldn’t care, and the next time you find yourself saying aloud that you don’t care, stop and listen to that tiny little voice deep down inside telling you that not only should you care, but that you actually do care.

First Holiday

We had our first vacation since well before Ronan was born this week past. We packed everyone (including Bailey) and everything (except the kitchen sink) up and headed to North Conway in NH where we’d rented a house by the lake.

It was a week of firsts for the monkey. He had his first vacation, first time sleeping away from home, first time on a train (the whistle was a bit loud for him, but he otherwise enjoyed himself), first time eating out at a restaurant, first time eating Indian food, first swim in a river…all in all it was a good week and it was nice to get away and to spend some time together as a family.

Sacrifice

My dad was a smoker before my older sister was born. Shortly afterward, he came home one day and said that he was quitting, and went cold turkey right there and then.

He could have made it easier on himself, cutting back, or only smoking outside and away from my sister, and then me and my brother and my little sister over the years, but he chose to stop altogether.

I’m not sure why, and I have never really asked him, but I like to think it was because we meant more to him, and so that he could be there whenever he wanted to be there, or whenever we wanted him to be there without us having to wait until he was finished with ‘just this one smoke,’ and so that he wouldn’t miss the important things, whether great or small, because he had gone outside for a smoke.

Of course, he couldn’t always there because he also made the sacrifice of working long, hard hours for his family, but he was there when it mattered, and the sacrifices he made mattered.

There’s always an easy way to go about things, but then they aren’t sacrifices, are they?

Happy Father’s Day Dad, and thank you for every sacrifice, great and small that you’ve ever made for your family.

Our Deepest Fear

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

~ Marianne Williamson

Pinchy Pinch

My Nursing NecklaceThe downside to baby practicing his fine motor skills is that it makes me a prime target for practicing on, hence my lovely nursing necklace from Mommy Necklaces. It has the Ronan seal of approval, and I am getting pinched a lot less. Win, win!

I liked it so much that I snagged a few more during a recent sale. Now I just have to justify a matching wardrobe.

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Party On

My little monkey went to his first birthday party today for his cousin Katelyn who is exactly 6 months older than he is (doesn’t that spell future trouble? ;) ). He got right into the spirit of things, joining in on conversations and flirting with all the ladies! He’s such a little social butterfly and didn’t even get cranky when we were late getting home for his nap.

He didn’t eat cake, but he did enjoy a little bit of bow tie pasta salad and then drooled into mummy’s water bottle. Yum!

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Don’t Eat the Red Berries

Once upon a time, long ago when men were hunters and women were gatherers, there was a woman who went out into the woods to gather berries. She came upon a deer eating some red berries, and when the deer had had its fill, she ate a few berries herself and then picked what remained to take back to her mate.

That night, they shared the berries and come morning, her mate went back out to hunt and she went back out to gather. In the woods, she came upon the deer again, who this time sniffed at some red berries and then walked away from them. The woman who had harvested behind the deer yesterday, ate a few more berries and then plucked what remained to take back to her mate.

Before she got there, she found herself feeling ill and abandoned all of the berries before making it back to wait for her mate to return. “If you go into the woods, don’t eat the red berries,” she told her mate that night, “Or they will make you sick.”

Her mate nodded, remembering the red berries they’d eaten the night before, and the next day he set out to hunt in the woods. Hungry, he came across some red berries and said to himself, “I ate the red berries before and they didn’t make me sick, so I can eat these red berries too.” He plucked as many berries as he could eat, got sick and died.

The woman then found a new mate who heeded her advice not to eat the red berries if he goes into the woods. Together, they had children who learned not to eat the red berries when they went into the woods.

In time, their children’s children’s children learned which red berries were good to eat, and which weren’t, and then they also learned exactly what was in some red berries that made them good, and what was in some red berries that made them bad. Still, they told their children, ‘If you go into the woods, don’t eat the red berries.’

Moral of the Story: Even if you grew up eating raspberries, strawberries and cranberries, if you find yourself out in the woods armed with nothing but a cell phone with no reception, don’t eat the red berries.

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