Peeper is a bit afraid of other children on Halloween and every other day, so she wasn’t thrilled about the group photo. Thankfully, this little lobster cheered up and spent the rest of the play date happily throwing balls, nomming fruit and toppling headfirst into toy bins.
Happy Halloween, everyone!
Uncategorized
Is it Halloween yet?
Peeper is getting in the spirit of Halloween. Only a week and a half to go!
Own your c-section birth story
Now that I’ve entered the club of motherhood, I’ve noticed a lot of women feeling judged (by others and themselves) because they birthed their baby via c-section. Research also shows that dissatisfaction with your child’s birth is linked to postpartum depression, so I felt compelled to address the issue of women feeling as if they had failed by having a child surgically.
I wrote this piece for Fit Pregnancy about how to come to peace—and even embrace—your birth story. I talked with Brooke Kyle, MD, an OB who delivered all three of her kids in the OR.
“I do feel like there are a lot of pressures in my community and nationally that make people feel like their birth is less worthy if they have to choose a c-section, like they’re less of a mother and they didn’t try hard enough,” Dr. Kyle told me. “I even feel those pressures because I aim for a vaginal birth in my practice and that’s what I’m known for. The goal for my patients is to get a vaginal birth, and that was the plan for myself, too.”
Yet childbirth is unpredictable, and many of the things we script out—delivering vaginally, opting for a home birth, going med-free—change.
(A quick aside: Childbirth can be traumatic. It’s important to recognize that many women have a difficult time, and that a bouncing bairn is not the only legitimate concern. Validating mothers’ conflicted feelings around childbirth and their birth story shows them that they’re valued, too—that their worth is not limited to bringing a child into the world at any cost.)
Kyle shared with me a few tips on how she kicked the disappointment of delivering via cesarean and came to love her birth story.
Did you feel disappointed in how your child’s birth went? (No judgment here.) How did you come to terms with it?
Own your c-section birth story
Now that I’ve entered the club of motherhood, I’ve noticed a lot of women feeling judged (by others and themselves) because they birthed their baby via c-section. Research also shows that dissatisfaction with your child’s birth is linked to postpartum depression, so I felt compelled to address the issue of women feeling as if they had failed by having a child surgically.
I wrote this piece for Fit Pregnancy about how to come to peace—and even embrace—your birth story. I talked with Brooke Kyle, MD, an OB who delivered all three of her kids in the OR.
“I do feel like there are a lot of pressures in my community and nationally that make people feel like their birth is less worthy if they have to choose a c-section, like they’re less of a mother and they didn’t try hard enough,” Dr. Kyle told me. “I even feel those pressures because I aim for a vaginal birth in my practice and that’s what I’m known for. The goal for my patients is to get a vaginal birth, and that was the plan for myself, too.”
Yet childbirth is unpredictable, and many of the things we script out—delivering vaginally, opting for a home birth, going med-free—change.
(A quick aside: Childbirth can be traumatic. It’s important to recognize that many women have a difficult time, and that a bouncing bairn is not the only legitimate concern. Validating mothers’ conflicted feelings around childbirth and their birth story shows them that they’re valued, too—that their worth is not limited to bringing a child into the world at any cost.)
Kyle shared with me a few tips on how she kicked the disappointment of delivering via cesarean and came to love her birth story.
Did you feel disappointed in how your child’s birth went? (No judgment here.) How did you come to terms with it?
15 months
The world is a wacky place, and at 15 months old, Peeper is really starting to grapple with it.
First off, it’s confusing. I’m always feeding Peeper mushrooms and berries at home, but when she tries to eat them when we’re on walks outside, I freak out. What gives? And she throws dirty diapers in the pail, but I take out the toys, magazines and my hairbrush that she oh so helpfully tosses in, too. All these arbitrary rules are hard to follow.
Secondly, it’s scary. Nana got Peeper a book that makes animal noises when you open the flaps, and my bug started crying at the first electronic “moo.” She ran away—and came right back. She seemed to be torn between fear of and fascination with it. I had to cut her off when she started whimpering when we looked at animals in other books.
She’s also pretty intimidated by other kids. When we recently got together with the One Weekers—a group of baby friends born within a seven days of each other—Peeper was a bit out of sorts. The other toddlers just had to look at her sideways to set her off. She required a lot of cuddling when the other kids ran around and fought over blocks.
Yet Peeper is also overcoming her fears—at least, in one case, with the help of noise-muffling headphones. We went to a Timbers game knowing we might have to bail early, considering Peeper is terrified of loud noises. But once she got used to the cushy headphones covering her ears, she didn’t mind the soccer match. I spent most of it chasing her around the restaurant, but I counted it as a huge win.
International Babywearing Week
It’s International Babywearing Week—and coincidentally, I switched from carrying Peeper on my front to my back, too.
At 15 months, she’s not exactly newborn-weight anymore, and schlepping her around on my front was doing a serious number on my back. I’m still not super confident about getting her on my back, but I *hope* it’ll get easier with practice.
As you may be able to tell, she doesn’t like the backseat as much as riding shotgun, but she still points to things (ivy! gutters! cars!) from her place on my back.
Being able to wear Peeper has been key to my ability to care for her and Finn. Our walks rarely stick to the sidewalks, so most times a stroller is out of the question. And having to carry her in my arms—along with a leash, poop bag and umbrella—would be an exercise in insanity. I’m so grateful for my carrier (a lillebaby, which I’ve been very happy with).
Besides walks around the neighborhood, I have also worn Peeper at the store, when hiking Portland’s incredible trails and when interviewing sources for stories I write. Babywearing allows me to be flexible—and to use my hands when I need them and need to keep my little close.
How do you get your little from A to B? Any advice for me as a newbie back carrier?
4 ways to smile through your toddler’s cold
It seems as if Peeper *just* got over a cold, but here she is, snotty and congested and sneezy all over again.
Being sick is rotten, and I wish I could take away my munchkin’s discomfort. Since I can’t, though, I’m looking on the bright side. Here are my top four reasons to smile in spite of—or because of—Peeper’s cold.
1. Happy! She’s no Pharrell, but much of the time she apparently feels like a room without a roof, if you know what I mean. Sure, she gets cranky and clingy, but for the most part she’s like this, drippy nose or not:
[vimeo 107745994 w=500 h=281]
Happy! from Catherine Ryan Gregory on Vimeo.
2. Story time. Peeper always loves a good book, but when she’s sick, we spend long stretches cuddling and reading. These days her favorite books are ones that have pictures of everyday objects. I name everything for her—over and over and over and over—and her pointer finger gets a real workout.
Finn, not to be left out, joins us, too. And this week we were in luck: My aunt sent a package of books my cousins (the oldest of whom is now in college—what?!) used to read. Thanks, Aunt Anne: You’ve doomed me to page through My First Word Book a million times a day for the rest of time.
3. Laughter. When you don’t know how to blow your nose and adults are constantly swiping at the snot collecting on your face, a sense of humor definitely helps you get through the day.
We do just about everything we can to laugh, including wearing pants-hats.
4. The outdoors. Eric’s dad abides by the philosophy that few things can’t be improved by getting outside and blowing the stink off ya, and I couldn’t agree more. Fresh air and a little exercise may not typically be prescribed for a cold, but we think it’s a pretty good Rx.
When you look on the bright side of being sick, what do you see?
Tiny bubbles
Not too long ago, my family was in town visiting. We went to nearby Cook Park, where Peeper stared at someone blowing bubbles. While she and my dad watched, Peeper learned the word and repeated it the rest of the afternoon.
“Buh-buh,” she said, walking around the playground. “Buh-buh, buh-buh.”
Later that night, my dad told me that the last thing my Grandma Ryan—his mom—did before she died was sing. She was lying back in bed and before her last breath left her, she sang the old Don Ho hit “Tiny Bubbles.” She had a gorgeous songbird’s voice, though I have no memory of it.
A few weeks later, we joined my parents in Central Oregon for a few days. My dad brought an industrial-sized bottle of bubbles he’d made a special trip to the store to buy.
We stood among the ponderosa pines and watched as Peeper was mesmerized by the bubbles Grandpa Shempy blew for her. They surrounded us, Peeper rushed to touch them and they floated away on the dry air. Then Grandpa Shempy dipped the wand, took a breath and let fly another cloud of bubbles.
“More, more,” she signed whenever he paused. “Buh-buh!”
My Grandma Ryan died decades before Peeper was born, but I like to think that had they ever met, she would have crooned lullabies and classics and Christmas songs and jingles and silly made-up verses to her great-granddaughter in her lilting soprano, the memory of which still brings tears to my dad’s eyes.
Tiny bubbles
In the wine
Make me happy
Make me feel fine
Tiny bubbles
Make me warm all over
With a feeling that I’m gonna
Love you till the end of time
Toddler philosophy II
Channeling Teddy Roosevelt: “Speak softly and carry a big stick.”
You’re an animal! (and Tender Wondersuits giveaway!)
Flamingos, as it turns out, rock Peeper’s world.
We went to the Oregon Zoo recently, and I walked a different route than I typically do. The path took me down a lush section of the park I hadn’t been to since I was a kid. We finally came across some animals, but the bats were asleep and the lizard wasn’t moving, so Peeper seemed more interested in the flowers.
Then we found the flamingos.
She flipped! It’s a good thing there was a glass panel separating us from them because she tried her hardest to get into that pond and see them up close.
