Taylor is 23 months and 3 weeks old.
Holy Smokes
Artichokes
(However, not uttered in the same sentence.
Now that would have been funny.)
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When Taylor utters new and amusing words I’ll post ‘em here.
I should have started this category long ago.
Oh well, better late than never, right?
“How many times do our children seem to be caught up in spells of their own, captivated by energies that carry them away, turned suddenly into demons, witches, trolls, ogres and imps?…Can we make room in ourselves to love them as they are without having them have to change to please us? And how many times do we as parents get caught up in spells of our own, show our children our “giant” side, the ogre within, or the witch? How much do we secretly yearn to be seen and accepted as we are by others, and to find our own way in our lives?”
“…the “good” baby who stops crying after ten minutes and goes to sleep may be a baby who has learned to give up. But is giving up what we really want to teach our children? Is adapting to not getting their needs met the way we want our children to develop “independence”? Is shutting down emotionally and losing some of their aliveness and openness what we want for our children? Or do we want to teach them that their feelings count, that we will respond to them, that there are people who they can trust and rely on to be sensitive to them, and that it is safe to be open, expressive, to ask for what they need, to be independent?”
“Acceptance is an inner orientation which acknowledges that things are as they are, whether they are the way we want them to be or not, no matter how terrible they may seem to be at certain times.”
– From Everyday Blessings:The Inner Work of Mindful Parenting by Myla Kabat-Zinn and Jon Kabat Zinn
Taylor has been waking at 4:30 a.m. lately. (UGH!) So Jim and I came up with a plan last night and crossed our fingers that it might work.
When Taylor woke up this morning, Jim went to her right away with her potty in hand (as he or I would normally do). Instead of turning on the ceiling light in Taylor’s room, Jim clicked on a flashlight and went about the morning potty routine. Instead of inviting Taylor to our bed to nurse, Jim put her back in the crib and left her room. She wasn’t crazy about the idea and tried to lure Dad back in with,”Daddy, Daddy. I love you. I love you.”
Within a minute or two, she fell silent and went back to sleep for an additional 45 minutes. It was progress, so I can’t complain too much.
In a dream state…
I was walking down a street in the City and noticed British fighter planes flying low in the sky. I figured it wasn’t a good sign that an ally country was sending over its planes to assist in defending us. Whatever evil plot was unfolding must warrant this level of coordination.
I started running and, soon after, spotted several low-flying missiles jetting through the sky. They resembled the missiles filled with nerve gas in the movie, The Rock. People ran for cover, and I joined fellow strangers in someone’s basement. As if that would help us, right?
We crouched to the ground, buried our heads in our arms, and hoped for the best. The first wave of toxic gas was almost odorless and did not seem to do much harm. The second wave had a much stronger aroma and sent me into an altered state. I was losing consciousness.
Before this dream could come to its natural end, Taylor woke up and let us know that she needed us. She woke me out of a dead sleep, saving me from an unpleasant demise. While the events may not have been realistic, the fear was very real. The only other dream I’ve had like this was on an anniversary of 9-11, where I dreamed that terrorists were attacking my office building as I attempted to reach loved ones.
A sign of the times, isn’t it?
Taylor is 23 months and 3 weeks old.
Golden Gate Park
Prosciutto
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When Taylor utters new and amusing words I’ll post ‘em here.
I should have started this category long ago.
Oh well, better late than never, right?
On a whim, I popped the movie of Taylor’s birth day into the DVD player this morning. I’ve watched it a few times in the past two years, but I have never felt sadness, as I did this morning.
While I did not shed tears, the heaviness in my chest and the tension in my face were difficult to ignore. The footage itself is actually quite mundane — Taylor getting weighed, getting her vitals checked, latching on for the first time.
The birth itself does not unfold on camera because we didn’t have time to unload the car when we arrived at the hospital. The camera did not capture the staff’s panic to get Taylor out, or the supposed “Ina May Gakin” episiotomy (whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean) that was performed on me shortly before Taylor emerged completely.
The camera missed all that drama. What permeated the room (and me this morning) was the cold, clinical energy in that hospital room two years ago. Loved ones gathered and well-intended nurses went about their tasks, but it still seemed so wrong.
I am grateful that Taylor was a healthy newborn, but there were still so many machines and cords and procedures, you’d think something was wrong with her. This is the manner in which new, healthy life is received in our culture. (sigh)
Bending my strict, no-TV rule this morning, Taylor watched the DVD with me. Perhaps that wasn’t such a good idea.
At one point, the screen showed Taylor on a warming bed as a latex-gloved nurse put a stethoscope to Taylor’s chest. Witnessing this scene, Taylor immediately started to panic and yelled, “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!”
Watching this footage brings forward more emotions than I can even begin to find words for. What I know with complete certainty is that I will not give birth in a hospital again.
People’s letters and phone calls have made a difference. Californians will continue to have the freedom to legally buy raw milk. I’m one happy mama.
For more detailed information on what has happened and what needs to happen going forward, visit Organic Pastures online.
Since the time change almost two months ago, Taylor just hasn’t slept the same. In anticipation of “falling back” we slowly shifted Taylor’s daily rituals later and later in the days leading up to the shift, but this preparation hasn’t proven to be entirely effective.
For awhile, she kept waking up around 4:30/5:00 in the morning. That was rough! Then she eventually shifted to a wake-up time closer to 6:00 a.m., which was so much more bearable.
Now we’re in a phase I can’t quite put my finger on. Taylor becomes frustrated and upset more easily. The smallest things can set her off. When she does express intense emotions, she wails in a way I have never heard (from her) before. When we put her down for naps in the past, she would roll over and get down to the business of sleeping. Lately, she’s been fighting naps with everything she’s got and only sleeping 20 minutes a day. Some nights she wakes several times, and some of those times she needs consoling. Some mornings she wakes ridiculously early, and Jim and I take turns covering the early shift so the other person can sleep.
We haven’t changed any of her daily rituals, so that can’t be “it”. The outwardly aspects of our day seem to be in order, but what about the inwardly? Is there something different within me?
I can tell you with certainty that I have become frustrated with Taylor’s “new phase”. But what came first, the chicken or the egg? Maybe I need to shift and tidy up what’s inside. For instance, it wouldn’t hurt for me to start working out regularly and blow off some this steam.
Just as I’m having these revelations, my mother-in-law gave a book called Everyday Blessings, The Inner Work of Mindful Parenting to me for Christmas. She knows that I’m a big fan of Mothering Magazine, so she referenced their list of suggested reading.
I started reading last night and immediately realized that this is exactly what I need right now. I’ll be posting quotes from the book, as a way of processing what I’ve read and to share some of its wisdom.
“Parenting is one of the most challenging, demanding, and stressful jobs on the planet. It is also one of the most important, for how it is done influences in great measure the heart and soul consciousness of the next generation, their experience of meaning and connection, their repertoire of life skills, and their deepest feelings about themselves and their possible place in a rapidly changing world.”
“The very fact that we are a parents is continually asking us to find and express what is most nourishing, most loving, most wise and caring in ourselves, to be, as much as we can, our best selves.”
“And our children, from infancy to adulthood and beyond, can be seen as perpetually challenging live-in teachers, who provide us with ceaseless opportunities to do in the inner work of understanding who we are and who they are, so that we can stay in touch with what is truly important and give them what they most need in order to grow and flourish.”
Some time mid-morning, Taylor came to me; pointed to her nose, and said,”Booger. Booger suck.” I picked her up and looked into her nostrils and didn’t see anything. She was insistent, “Booger suck. Booger suck,” so I used our hospital-grade syringe in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort she was feeling.
After some effort, I saw a small, red mass in her left nostril that looked like a blot clot, but it also seemed too brightly colored for it to be blood. Many, many attempts later, Taylor was upset that I was invading her nose with this instrument and that I wasn’t helping matters.
I called Dad in for reinforcements, and unfortunately, that didn’t work either. We gave Taylor a chance to re-group, and she asked us to help her again. Dad had the magic touch. Out came the red mass – a shard of red crayon.
What is it with kids sticking things in their nose?
For weeks now I’ve made pizza for dinner on Friday nights. As I’ve written before, Taylor knows the drill well.
On Thursday afternoons, Taylor and I mix and knead spelt flour, salt and kefir together. I then place the dough in a bowl, and as I cover the bowl Taylor reminds me that the dough needs to sleep. “Goodnight, dough.”
On Friday afternoons, we roll the dough out to the size of our pizza peel and top it with tomato sauce, cheese and whatever else we’re in the mood for. Taylor’s favorite part about making pizza is eating the shredded cheese while the pizzas are baking.
In addition to three cheese pizzas tonight, we also made gingerbread cookies. Up until last week, I never gave gingerbread much thought because I didn’t care for the ones I’ve tried. That all changed when I visited a prospective nursery school for Taylor. The kids made delicious gingerbread (without refined sugar!).
With the taste memory of pillowy and delicious gingerbread on my palate I scoured the Internet for a recipe, and it just didn’t compare. The cookies were pillowy but not delicious. Last night, I attended a potty training class (taught by the nursery school director) and asked for her rendition.
As Taylor and I combined the dry ingredients tonight, we discovered that we were about one cup short of white flour. Doh! So I added one cup of spelt flour to replace it. Tonight’s cookies are just the opposite of last week’s, tasty buy not pillowy. (sigh)
I’ll have to try again (after we eat this batch of little people), making sure I have enough white flour in advance and perhaps baking them for less time.
Here’s the Weston Price-friendly recipe for sour leavened pizza dough. Sour leavening flour breaks down phytates (which rob the body of nutrients and make it difficult for the body to digest).
- 2 cups flour (I use spelt flour.)
- 1 cup kefir
- 1 teaspoon unrefined, sea salt
- olive oil (for brushing on crust)
Yields about 3 medium-sized pizzas.
Mix ingredients together in a bowl, adding more flour if the dough is too sticky. Turn out onto work surface and knead into dome-shaped ball. Place dough back in the bowl and cover with a towel or plastic wrap for about 24 hours.
Preheat oven (and pizza stone within oven) to 425 degrees Fahrenheit. Cover pizza peel with a thin layer of corn meal. Roll out pizza dough to the size of the peel and place onto peel. Brush the outer edges of the crust with olive oil. Add toppings.
Slide onto pizza stone and bake for approximately 15 minutes. Bon Apetito!