Becoming a good mom, one hour at a time
New mothers find plenty of things to dislike about their bodies after delivery: lopsided boobs, stretch marks, a perma-pooch. Tabloids in the check out aisle highlight celebrities who managed to LOSE THE BABY WEIGHT IN 5 WEEKS! (and shame the women who take longer—not that it’s anyone’s business). Despite these changes, I managed to love my postpartum body and find a positive body image—by appreciating my linea nigra. Read more
It has been 6,240 hours since I became a mother. I’m more than 60 percent of my way to becoming an expert.
I’m only half-serious, of course.
Some experts say that it takes 10,000 hours of dedicated practice to reach the top tier in what you’re pursuing—soccer, piano, basket weaving, whatever—research that underlies part of Malcolm Gladwell’s book Outliers (hence the name of my blog). I’m doing my best to become a good mom. I figure that all these hours of breastfeeding, changing diapers, peek-a-boo, bath time and front carrier walks add up and are teaching me not only about my daughter but about what it takes to be a loving, kind, patient, dedicated mother.
A new book by Daniel Goleman, Focus: The Hidden Driver of Excellence, asserts that logging a lot of hours doesn’t cut it, though. This article over at Brainpickings summarizes some of Goleman’s points.
He maintains that your attention when you’re practicing is a necessary component to reaching your full potential: You can’t just phone it in if you want to be great.
Soon after I gave birth to Peeper last year, my grandma told me a story.
She had just had my mom and uncle, a set of big twins who went to 40 weeks. (My mom weighed about as much as Peeper did—and she was only half the load!) My grandma was doing her best to take care of them and an older daughter essentially by herself—my grandpa was of the generation that thought that he would work during the day at the bank and she would take care of family and home.
My grandma struggled but told me she was overjoyed at having twins, which had always been a dream of hers.
One night, they got a sitter to watch the children at home, which was a rarity. They went to a party. My grandma took their coats to the host’s bedroom. And then—then she lay down and fell asleep.
They hadn’t been at the party five minutes before my weary grandmother was collapsed on a pile of strangers’ coats.
I know that kind of exhaustion too well. Chances are that you do, too. Maybe you zonked out in an inappropriate place. (I fell asleep on the exam table while waiting for the midwife at my six-week postpartum appointment, for example. Awkward!) Maybe you canceled plans because you were too sleep-deprived to drive safely. Maybe you’ve feared dropping your baby while trying to get her to sleep because you could pass out at any moment.
I’m so thankful that Peeper and I have moved past that point, at least for the time being. I was reminded of the bleary reality of many other parents, though, when I read this article about a woman who happened across another mother who had fallen asleep at an indoor play gym.
“I won’t leave ’til you wake up… hopefully rested and ready to face the weekend with the warrior-energy us mamas need to parent with a smile on our faces,” she posted later on Facebook. She had kept an eye on the sleeping mother’s kids while the tired mama caught some apparently much-needed winks.
To the woman who slept slumped against the windy slide, and to any of you who have never felt more like a zombie, I get it. I feel you. I’ve been there, too.
It’s miserable to feel like a shell of yourself. It’s embarrassing to nod off in public. You might even feel a little shame that you can’t “keep it together” enough to parent your baby and manage to sleep—I know I did.
I’ll say it gets better, though you might not want to hear it.
But I’ll also say that you have my full empathy and compassion until it does.
As new parents, and especially as new mothers, we have to stick together. I’ve got your back, tired one. If I can do anything to help, give a shout. If not, I’ll continue to look out for you and hope your baby finally goes to sleep!
Peeper has been sleeping poorly lately—thank you, tooth #4 that is so close to popping through—so when she started to cry the other night 45 minutes after I put her to bed, I figured her gums were just making her fussy.
She cried for a bit, was quiet, and then started crying again. I continued reading my book but brought the monitor closer.
Then I heard the sound.
I rushed into the nursery and sure enough, there was my beautiful daughter, covered in vomit. The poor dear was crying the way she does when we turn on the vacuum cleaner or blender—she was terrified.
I was scared, too.
I spend a lot probably too much time on my computer every day. The downside: tight shoulders and a sore back. The upside: stumbling across gems throughout the Internet. Here are a few favorites for your clicking pleasure.
WATCH
Lupita Nyongo’s speech on beauty I’m often reminded that it’ll be a formidable challenge to raise a child, but especially a daughter, who loves herself in spite of the messages she’s not beautiful, thin or fashionable enough. Role models like Lupita Nyongo will make that project just a tiny bit easier.
READ
Reaching My Autistic Son through Disney I’ve been passing this link to whomever lets me. If you click through on one thing today, let it be this. It’s a story about how one family used their son’s fixation on Disney to peel away the layers of autism and come to know him. My husband works with children with autism, so the article struck even closer to home. I can’t even imagine the struggle of raising a child on the far end of the autism spectrum, but this article shows the triumphs and love of that relationship, too.
Top 100 Children’s Books We love book time in this house, but I could “read” Peeper’s favorites with my eyes closed: I have her go-to board books memorized. I loved this list, then, because it gave me some ideas for new titles to check out.
(Does anyone know of a good app to recommend kids’ books? I am usually at a loss at the library and end up getting board books with baby faces in them.)
EAT
Banana Oatmeal Muffins The fact that this recipe calls for about a quarter of the refined sugar as similar ones made me feel better as I ate one the other day at 5am. Hey, I was hungry after nursing, changing, then changing Peeper again. (Ugh, I hate middle of the night poos.)
Red Lentil, Tomato and Kale Soup This soup is insanely easy and equally delicious. It makes enough that you can freeze some to reheat later. I topped it with a dollop of yogurt one day and a squeeze of lemon another day. I also added whatever veggies I had in the house—I love that about lentil soup: It’s so versatile!
What is your favorite link this week?
When Peeper was just born, her awareness was mostly limited to the eight inches in front of her face. Then her eyesight improved, and she just drank in whatever she could see, from cars driving by to the wind-whipped trees overhead. She demanded to be carried facing out so she didn’t miss a thing. Then she learned to roll and suddenly she was more in control of her own body.
Now that Peeper is mobile, her world has expanded even further.
A handful of women stepped into an ankle-deep pond. They bent at the waist to dip metal tubs into the water. They made shallow passes with the containers, trying to avoid the worst of the sediment.
They were collecting water to drink, cook and bathe with from the only free source within walking distance. The pond, though, was close to drying up during the lull before the rainy season, and sometimes the women got sick from drinking the untreated water.
I walked back to their camp with these women in Ghana as they balanced the metal containers—heavy enough that I’d have trouble lifting them, let alone setting them on my head. They didn’t complain; they at least had something to drink.
A pump with much cleaner water was several hundred yards away, but a man stood guard to collect money from anyone who used it. These women had no money, so they made do with the silty pond.
Many of us in the Global North take water for granted. We don’t think of our good fortune when we take a sip, wash the dishes or flush the toilet. Yet 768 million people worldwide don’t have access to safe and clean water, according to UNICEF.
UNICEF is now running a program to help bring clean water to more people in need through its Tap Project. And we can help—by giving up something that is a luxury, we can provide a life-giving necessity.