Hashtag second child problems

Don’t we always here that?? The poor second child gets the short end of the stick. Not as many pictures taken. Even less printed and framed. Mostly hand me downs. Less attention. A more lenient and less stressed out mother.

 

We tend to kind of feel sorry for the second kid. But, I feel bad for the first kid.

My poor Edmund. My smart, sweet, handsome, outgoing all-boy boy! He is wild and hilarious and his energy is never ending! This kid could put the energizer bunny out of a job. He loves Daniel Tiger and doing flips at gymnastics. He wants to read and bake cakes. He identifies letters and colors and loves counting and singing. He is quick to smile and giggle.

This first child of mine, the one who made me a mother and has taught me so much…he is the one I find myself worried about.

I spend my days wrangling him around and trying to teach him lovingly to be kind and gentle. My mom says “That poor boy is going to think his name is no!” My mom and my mother in law are always encouraging me to be patient and gentle with Edmund.

As the first child he is held to an impossible standard. One imposed on him by my own pride and insecurities.  I worry constantly about what people will think if he, heaven forbid, throws a fit! Or hits another kid, or snatches a toy! Will they think he is rude if he refuses to look up from his cake to say thank you? Will they think I am a bad mom if he wants to dance and run and shout at the worst times?! Will they not invite us back to their home if he digs in their cupboards or pushes their kid?

When he was a baby I was obsessed with developmental milestones. I was obessed with comparison.

Owen, the second child, is going to have a totally different experience because I am a totally different person. I am a better mom. I know that comparison kills joy. I know that getting dirty is ok. I know that what others think shouldn’t dictate how I parent.

I think that usually we pity the second child because they don’t get the attention that the first child had…but I think that is a good thing!

I have put a lot of pressure on Edmund to be “perfect”. I work every day to become a better mom to Edmund, not a crazy first time mom trying to mold her child into something she imagined her child would be.

So, my prayer lately has been that God will give me patience to let Edmund be Edmund. Patience to let him be a little boy. Patience to know when to be easy on him and when to reign him in.

A good friend and I were talking about our boys one day. His oldest is much like Edmund, smart, strong willed, funny and handsome. He told me “I can discipline my child into submission, but that will crush his spirit.” I don’t want to crush this wonderful boy’s spirit! I want to teach him to use his gifts to glorify God and help others. I want to help him learn and explore.

I love my little Owen. And I am so glad that I opened my heart and humbled myself and that I can be a better mom to him. I love my “big brother” Edmund. I am so glad for the gift of his life and I strive every day to give him more “yes”!  I pray that God continues to pour grace into me so that I can be the mom each of my boys needs me to be.

 

 

 

Out and About

Today Edmund and I went to Story Time at the Euless Library! We try to make it every week. I really enjoy going to the library and chatting with all of the “regulars”. Today was Maggie’s last day. Her grandma usually brings her, but her family is moving to Grand Prairie so now she will go to that library. I felt sad when Maggie and her Grandma left. It is funny how you become so attached to people, even when you only see them for 45 minutes once a week. I will miss them.

A little boy named Paris (please, don’t get me started. I am trying not to be judgey) who lives in Euless has traveled the world with his parents collecting rare bugs. They are all on display at the library! If you live in the area you should definitely go check it out! Edmund really enjoyed it!

Looking at all of the butterflies.

Nope, you can’t eat that buddy.

I didn’t let Edmund near this one…yuck.

This past weekend was so beautiful here in North Texas. We decided to take a drive out to White Rock Lake. It is about 30 minutes away, but worth it!  I have always been very unimpressed with the Texas landscape, Travis says it is because I haven’t been to see the good parts of Texas…But, White Rock Lake is so nice!  We brought our lunch and sat on a big hill that overlooks the water. It would have been more relaxing if we didn’t have to keep stopping Edmund from trying to eat all the grass and leaves.  When do babies stop doing that? I don’t want him to be the weird kid that eats glue…

White Rock Lake

Catching Edmund before he grabs another handful of grass.

He is mad at me for not letting him crawl off the blanket.

Travis and Edmund

People Watching.

Edmund and Mommy

Squirmy baby.

The other day I was on the phone with my mom and I told her that I needed to run to the store to grab some milk. A few minutes later she asked what I was doing. I told her I was in the car driving to get milk. She was shocked and impressed. Shocked because only a few months ago I was terrified of leaving the house with Edmund, even if someone was there to help me. Going to church was the most I could manage.  I would  wake up at 6 a.m. and barely be ready to leave at 11 a.m. for 11:30 mass.  

Remembering those days makes me laugh now. But, at the time, it was a very emotional ordeal to go anywhere.  My diaper bag weighed more than Edmund and was packed with a million useless things.  Travis insisted on packing at least 20 diapers. I had pacifiers that he never sucked on, toys he had no interest in, nipple cream, wipes, diaper rash cream, gas drops, nursing pads, a nursing cover, extra clothes, 5 burp clothes, granola bars, peanut butter crackers, a water bottle, etc…Just packing that thing took forever!

I would feed Edmund, lay him down, shower super fast, feed Edmund, lay him down, fix my hair, cry because I had nothing to wear and only maternity clothes fit, feed Edmund to make sure he would last the car ride to wherever we were going, cry, change my outfit, check the diaper bag. Always some variation of that routine. There were always tears, always multiple feedings, tons of anxiety, and I was exhausted before we even left the house. It literally took me 2 hours to prepare to go anywhere. My first trip to Mom’s Group was when Edmund was just over a month old. I spent the whole morning getting ready and left an hour early so I could go to grocery store and buy a snack to bring. I was a sweaty mess by the time I got there. I sat thinking to myself: was it this difficult for all the other moms?

I needed  new contacts pretty soon after Edmund was born. I made an appointment, went through my routine, made myself super anxious, and arrived just in time for my appointment. I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I thought maybe this one time Edmund would sit nicely in his car seat. I prayed he would. He started to fuss as soon as we got there and the eye doctor was clearly uncomfortable. The receptionist came in and asked if she could hold Edmund for me. I felt embarrassed. I must have looked like such an idiot. What a n00b. She took him and he literally cried the entire time…and by cried I mean he screamed like he was dying a slow, painful death. It was awful. I am surprised I can even see out of the contacts I was prescribed. I was barely paying attention to the doctor as I listened to my baby scream in the other room. I heard people come in and ask if everything was OK. I just wanted to run out of there.

As soon as I was done and I took Edmund back he curled up in my arms and fell asleep. I am not kidding you when I say it was literally within seconds of being given back to me he was out. I did that laugh/cry thing where you smile while tears fall down your face. I had gone to the optometrist in Super Target so while Edmund slept I brought his car seat back to the car and then walked around Target. I needed hot dog buns. I also treated myself to a package of Chips Ahoy cookies, which I later consumed by myself.

These days going out is nothing. I run here and there with Edmund, only working around his naps.  We go to Story Time, the park, the zoo, the grocery store, the post office. We pick up the boys after school every day.  Over time leaving the house with Edmund has become easier. We still have the occasional rough outing, and I am sure those will continue as he continues to become more mobile.

Being a new mom comes with many challenges…learning to leave the house with a baby was a big one for me. Every time I see a girl with a brand new baby in a store alone I want to give her a hug. I want to tell her that it gets easier.  I want to help her do her shopping, be the extra pair of hands she needs. But, sometimes I see girls in the store with tiny babies fast asleep in their car seats. And I think, what the buns did I do wrong? Maybe she is just having a lucky moment where the stars have aligned and her kid is sleeping for once?

My diaper bag currently contains 3 diapers, wipes (sometimes…sometimes I forget to refill the box), a nursing cover I never use, a hand full of toys, a book light that Edmund likes to chew on, tissues, crumbs, receipts, my wallet, lip gloss, a Mothers Prayer Book, some election flyers, my chapel veil, and a granola bar. I pack much lighter these days. I am even thinking of transitioning back to a purse! I enjoy getting out of the house to see friends or run errands. I love our weekly trips to Story Time and Mom’s group. I am savoring these moments because I am sure that once we have more kids I will have to readjust, I just hope there are less tears!

Edmund is ready to go!

Chi-Chi Time

DISCLAIMER: This post is not a breast vs. bottle debate. Also, this post may contain TMI..you have been warned.

My mother breastfed all five of us. My whole life I have been surrounded by breastfeeding mothers. Maybe that is why I never gave it a thought. I went into breastfeeding assuming it would just happen…I mean, it is natural right? It is the way mothers have been feeding their babies since…well…forever. Gisele does it. Beyonce does it. Pope Francis encourages it. All those crunchy moms rant and rave about it. So it must be so easy…I mean…how hard can it be? If Pink can do it, so can I!

Well… listen. It’s not always so easy. Let me share:

The first time I nursed Edmund it was awkward and uncomfortable. I barely knew how to hold him, let alone feed him. The lactation consultant (LC) told me about the Football Hold. So I cradled my tiny baby in one arm and brought his tiny little mouth over to suckle. And it was perfect and magical and everyone should do it…right? So wrong. So, so wrong. Edmund latched-success! It was a little painful, but the LC told me that was normal. I tried to describe his suck to her, he was using his gums to pull the nipple and she said “oh that’s fine.” Little did I know, that was not fine. Not fine at all.

Later that day, after two feedings, I was in pain. My nipples had both developed lines of blisters from the sucking. But I was told it happened a lot and it would be just fine.

We left the hospital on a Thursday. Friday morning was a complete nightmare. I was exhausted. Edmund hadn’t eaten in 6 hours because I had a major meltdown Thursday night and my MIL took him to let me rest…but the story of my Post Partum Depression is one for another time.

Basically for the next 4 days I cried…constantly. Every time it was time to nurse Edmund I cried. I couldn’t sleep because I was constantly anticipating the pain of the next feeding. Travis and I read every line of the baby books, watched a million Youtube videos, called our mothers, e-mailed breastfeeding friends, rubbed on nipple butter, expressed milk to let it dry on the nipples. We practiced the latch…made sure his lips were flared just right, that he had enough areola in his mouth. Examined the shape of my nipples when he was done…were they round or flat? Shaped like a tube of lipstick or a perfect circle? All the while the skin over the blisters was peeling. I was bleeding, and crying, and Edmund was crying and poor Travis was so helpless.

Tuesday was the day the hospital had a Breastfeeding support group/class. I just had to make it to Tuesday. I went in and told the LC, the same one I had seen when Edmund was born, that his latch was bad. So I pulled down my shirt and showed her. “His latch is textbook! That was perfect!” she told me! Apparently it hurt so bad because of the blisters and tissue damage. Duh. Of course that was why. She told me, imagine if you have a cut on your arm and every couple of hours you poured water on it and rubbed it. Would it heal quickly? No.

So basically their advice was come back next week for more support and fight through the pain.

Thanks.

But I fought through.

I fought through because I was terrified of formula. I was terrified of failing as a mother. I was terrified my breastfeeding friends would find out and judge me…

FAST FORWARD: Edmund is almost 7 months old and we have overcome all of the obstacles. I nurse anytime, anywhere. I nurse in church, in restaurants, on an airplane, in museums, at the park, on the couch, while I go pee, in the bed, standing in the kitchen, in the Walmart dressing rooms, in the car, hunched over the car seat; in Food Avenue at Target. I nurse in front of family and friends and strangers. If my kid is hungry I am going to feed him…period.

I went to a wedding in late August when Edmund was about 6 weeks old. At the rehearsal dinner I sat in the handicap stall with my mom breastfeeding Edmund. So many women noticed what I was doing and were so kind and encouraging. “Oh, I remember those days!” “It is so great that you nurse him!” “I am very proud of you for breastfeeding your baby!” “Why are you in that stall? There is a nice couch just outside the door! Go sit and be comfy!” Hearing all of that made me proud that I had stuck it out and continued to nurse Edmund.

My little brother was not so enthusiastic. In the hotel room with my family I wasn’t nervous or self-conscious at all. I didn’t want to miss out on any of my time with them, so I just nursed right out in the open. Zach was always yelling: “Can you at least warn me before you just whip it out?!” haha

In October I went to Virginia with Edmund to spend a few weeks with my parents. My whole family works at Target…it is our thing. And by work there I mean practically live there. I was in Target with my mom and sister and I sat in Food Avenue and nursed Edmund without a cover. I did the Pull-Up-Pull-Down method, which is my personal favorite! You couldn’t see anything. The next day Jenny came home and told me the following: A guy (boy? young man? man?) that she works with came up to her and said that he had seen a woman breastfeeding in Food Avenue the day before and he almost told her to go do it in the dressing room. He didn’t even know we she is my sister…idiot.

Oh, oh my goodness…I cannot even wait for the day someone tells me to take my breastfeeding somewhere else. I really cannot even wait.

Recently Edmund has taken to pinching the skin on my breast while he nurses. Hello?! This is not a juice box! He will nurse in any position. He will laugh while nursing and pull my hair and look around and cross his legs and try to take my boob with him while he tries to crawl away. Silly baby.

From what I can gather, most breastfeeding moms nurse their babies as modestly as they can manage. Maybe not with a nursing cover…because most babies hate them. I get a false sense of security while using a cover and when Edmund whips it off I am left scrambling to cover myself with something!

Breastfeeding is natural, and beautiful, and beneficial to a child’s health. But it is also an intimate act between a mother and her child. As a Catholic woman I was taught at a young age the importance of modesty. I don’t think everything I learned should be thrown out just because I am breastfeeding. Our bodies are sacred, and we should be respectful and modest while we nurse in public.

I love breastfeeding. I love looking at Edmund while he nurses. I love holding him close and snuggling with him. I love when he curls his legs up and gets as close as possible. I love when his hand tickles my side and his other hand rubs my face. I love having this special bond with him that no one else will ever have. But I am hear to tell you that just because it is beautiful and natural does not mean it is always easy and painless. You are not a failure. You are not a bad mom. If you want to breastfeed your baby–in public or in private–you have to be strong and confident in yourself. You have to work through the pain…and I am pretty sure if you hang in there, you will both learn, and you will love it too!

I would love to hear some of your hilarious breastfeeding stories!

PS: Someone didn’t get the memo that a SNOW DAY is for napping and quiet snuggling…