Is 5 the Final Number then?!

I have to laugh at it all sometimes when I think about it. In early 2013 I had decided that having children was not on the cards anymore, and here I am in late 2016, with two beautiful toddlers and another little one on the way. If you had given me a view into the future back then when I was standing behind the bar indulging in a shot or 10 of Powers and chatting with my regulars I would have probably laughed in your face before pouring you a Guinness.

While I may not have a huge extended family, I come from two lines of families where the women tend to have many children. And I think I say that I don’t have a huge extended family just because we are so dispersed, having lived in different countries for many years – in reality there are quite a few of us around. I remember many a Christmas as a child in England, and then in The Netherlands and France, where we would fly home to be with our extended family. But once you become an adult you tend to start revisiting those childhood traditions in your own home, nostalgic for the past, hopeful for the future. I’ve spent a lot of Christmases alone in NYC, celebrating with close friends, missing my family. And then Christmases with my own growing family, teaching my partner and kids about my childhood traditions. I’ve written about these times on several occasions, here and here, so I won’t rehash them today, but I suppose the main theme of Christmas will always remain family for me. My mother had three kids, and all of us will be together this Christmas for the first time in years. My mother’s mother had five children, all girls, and her mother had 10 (!) children. My father’s mother also had five children, two boys and three girls, and her mother had 4 kids (all girls too!). And if you go through my family tree, (that my mother has been painstakingly researching for the past few years - more on that in the very near future), you will find that it was very common to see a multitude of sisters and brothers in each family. So I suppose I really had to do my part to continue on this family tradition!

It’s funny how things change very rapidly. After a bit of a long pregnancy with Aurora but the exact birth I was hoping for, which helped ease away some of what Luna’s more painful birth and recovery had left, I said that I was done. And then slowly but surely, once the weight started to come off and when raising two children didn’t seem as difficult as I had expected it to be, we started slowly talking about another one. Not so close as the first two, because two under two with a very high needs child is no walk in the park, and not until one had weaned. Let’s not even try until 2017 we said. As with anything in my life real planning always seems to take a backburner because events just seem to happen naturally, as if I’m not allowed to feel too comfortable for too long. I’m still nursing both toddlers very frequently and have no willpower to wean anyone, and, well, it’s still 2016… But a few days before the presidential election I realised that this carsickness feeling that had started a few days before seemed a little too familiar, especially seeing as I actually hadn’t been in a car… That week was a little bittersweet, because we were meant to be bathing in happiness, but at the same time the elections brought on a wave of disbelief, despair and sadness that I have had a hard time brushing away. It took me a while to feel “normal” again, and to be honest I don’t feel “normal” (have I ever?!), but I do feel very happy, and am completely and madly in love with this little munchkin that is growing in my tummy, just like I was with the other two.

This little one is due on July 3rd, so when he or she comes Luna will be three years and a few months old and Aurora will be just under two. Luna is already excited about “the tiny baby in mummy’s tummy”, although how much of that she actually really understands is yet to be known. It will be fun to see her actually be able to express her thoughts about my growing belly this time around, as she was so young when I was pregnant with Aurora. It will be fun to see how Aurora reacts too… Once I get past this insane 24/7 nausea that has been plaguing me since I was 5 weeks pregnant, and will hopefully start easing up now, I will be able to focus more on the future. In the meantime it’s basically been on a day to day basis, make sure the kids eat, get fresh air and are somewhat entertained, get through my work before bedtime, so that I can collapse in bed with the kids and hope that sleep will bring some relief. I definitely had all day nausea with Luna, and had it a lot worse with Aurora, but this has been even worse still. Not that it has stopped me from eating. Just from eating most things apart from bread, Brie, lettuce and pasta. Everything also tastes super salty, which has never happened to me before and has basically put me off most food. Except Brie. Nothing will ever put me off Brie.

And so there we are, 6 more months, give or take a few weeks, and we will have another one in our midst. Girl or boy, it doesn’t really matter (of course a boy would be great, just to mix things up a little, but we do have an absolutely beautiful girl’s name lined up too, and it would be such a pity not to use it…). The adventure continues and I couldn’t be happier to be honest. One day at a time, hoping that the weeks don’t fly by too fast and that we will have another happy, healthy baby.

High Needs Child Series: Trust Your Instincts, Trust Your Child

This week's beautiful words come from a good friend of mine, Ryvenna. Ryvenna was due a few months before me with her daughter in 2014, and through-out our pregnancies and way into motherhood her texts and messages would help me feel a little less alone during sleepless nights and endless days. She is one of the most patient, generous and authentic people that I know and it really makes me happy to publish her story. 

When I wake up in the morning, it’s often because my nipples are aching. With my two and a half year old still nursing and often switching from side to side every few minutes in the hour before she wakes, I rarely wake because I’ve slept enough. Eventually, her eyes will open but she’ll keep nursing as I pet her fair hair, curls slightly damp from a sweaty night’s sleep. My bladder will finally announce that it’s time to get up, and I tell her I need to use the bathroom, waiting for the first words she tells me most mornings, a predictable, “Up, up!” Resisting is futile, because frankly, I can’t be bothered to deal with a meltdown ten minutes after I’ve opened my eyes, and before I’m really fully awake myself. So my 99th percentile toddler gets scooped up in my arms, and we head off to the bathroom together. I pee holding her, and most mornings she grudgingly, laughingly accepts that I will not let her nurse while I pee. 

On the weekends, my husband will manage to occasionally bribe her with some fruit snacks and a cartoon to let me sleep for an additional half an hour. I know that half an hour later, I’ll wake to her frustrated cries as he tries to convince her to let me keep sleeping, so I rarely manage to get back to bed. I’ve been tired since I was in my second trimester. At coming up on three years old, my daughter has never “slept through the night”. She’s usually asleep by nine pm, and will wake between midnight at two to nurse, again sometime before she’s in the “waking” phase, and then will drift between breasts for her last hour, usually waking fully before seven. 

I don’t love the term “high needs”. I think of myself as a gentle parent who adapts to my daughter’s needs. A sensitive mama. But when I see mothers who are able to carry quiet infants around in a carseat, letting them calmly look around while they enjoy a long lunch in a restaurant, I don’t identify with their experience. My daughter nursed around the clock, needed to be worn in a Moby wrap, and would not sleep on her own. I remember obsessively reading “Back to Sleep” literature about babies needing to sleep on their own, solid surfaces on their backs. My daughter slept on my chest or my husband’s for the first four months. I remember about two hours in three chunk where I managed to get her resting in the Arm’s Reach cosleeper I’d purchased for her while I was pregnant. I texted my sister, I danced in my living room, and then realized that it wasn’t going to work. I could get two hours of sleep with her on top of me, or half an hour (after two solid hours of failed attempts) with her in the cosleeper. So we moved our mattress to the floor with our side up against the wall, removed my pillows and sheet and blanket, and I made do with socks and sweatpants in bed for the first year. After that, I reintroduced a blanket around my waist and a light pillow. When she turned two I let a fluffier pillow back into my life, and let myself wrap a blanket around her waist as well. She sleeps most of the night with her head on my arm, and I leave the room, I still keep the baby monitor on because I know she’ll wake shortly without me there.

My daughter is distracted by my grandmother, my sister, or my husband from time to time, but her unwavering focus directs like a laser beam onto me for the vast majority of the time. When she senses that I’m trying to let Dada run the show for a minute, she immediately rejects him, pushing him off the couch and telling him that he can’t play with us. You can practically hear the sound of my husband’s heart breaking every time. He took lower-paying jobs for the first two years of her life so that he could work from home to be near her. His lunch breaks were spent on snuggling her down for naps as she kicked and screamed, fighting sleep. If I’m not around, they’re the best of friends.
In the last month, I’ve been able to plop her in front of the TV in the morning for long enough to take a shower. Not long enough to also throw some makeup on my face, but it’s enough for now. Two months ago, each shower was a tear-filled event with her begging me to pick her up, to nurse her, to watch a show with her, to play with her, to do anything other than leave her side for the fifteen minutes it takes to lather my hair and shave my legs in steamy water. I resorted more than once to reapplying deodorant, running dry shampoo through my hair, and spraying on a layer of body oil so that I could dry shave. I could probably count on one hand the number of times I’ve been able to poop in privacy in her lifetime. 

I’ve gotten a lot of judgement over this. If you don’t set boundaries now, she’ll walk all over you for the rest of your life. You’re spoiling her by indulging her like this. She has to know who’s in charge. But I know my daughter. I know that pushing her toward something when she’s not ready doesn’t work. She has an innate sense of what she needs, and she knows how to ask for it. And I know how to give it to her 95 times out of a 100. I do try to explain is that adapting to a high-needs child is not the same as giving in to every demand. It’s about knowing when to pick your battles. Her emotional needs are very real, and they are not wants. They are needs. She is still nursed, we cosleep, I carry her often. Because without these physical connections, her emotional needs are not being met. 

Her emotional landscape paints her perspective of the world. Many of her conversations revolve around the way she feels, and they are often the first things she wants to discuss in a recollection of her day. “I cried this morning because I was sad when you wanted me to put my shoes on the other feet” is not an unusual thing to hear from her. Neither is “I think about you all day when you’re gone, Mama”. She is able to understand emotional nuance that I find startling in a two year old. She offers to care for those around her when they say they’re sick or in pain. She initiates telling people that she loves them and enjoys their company.
Indulging a need for physical connection does not lead to a spoiled child. At two and a half, my daughter is articulate and polite, caring, and concerned. That said, she’s still a toddler. Occasionally, I’ll still get her coming up to me, grabbing at my shirt, and an obnoxious, “Nurse!” Most of the time, pointing out that isn’t the most polite way to ask will elicit another, nicer ask. When it doesn’t, I ask her where her beautiful manners went, and we explore the inside of her mouth, giggling, until I miraculously discover them, reposition them so that she can once again access them, and she happily uses the manners we both know she possesses. She helps set the table, has running jokes with the adults around her, tells me she loves “family dinner”, and feeds the cats.

What I will tell you, if you’re reading this while holding your high-needs baby, is good luck. Not sarcastically, but lovingly. Good luck, because I needed it. High needs babies do not suddenly become easygoing toddlers. I have shown up to events two hours late, and bailed at the last minute, and avoided making plans entirely with parents who have a different parenting experience than I do. Those folks who can just throw their kid in the car and show up to pretty much anything on time? We don’t have a ton in common. That said, on nights when I need to stay late at work for a Board meeting, she goes down okay with my husband. We’re finally starting to get in date nights, since we recently moved closer to my sister who is the Toddler Whisperer and can also get her down. When we need her to adapt, she often surprises us with how easily she can do so. 
I doubted myself a lot. It’s hard to ignore people telling you to let them cry it out, make them walk, force them to potty-train, or wean them before either one of you is ready. But I learned quickly that I could trust my child. She’s not making it up when she says she needs me, and she wasn’t “manipulating” me when she couldn’t sleep without being held as an infant. When I tried something that didn’t work for her, I learned that adapting to something that did (with a good amount of trial and error) was always the best solution. I didn’t have a lot of friends to reach out to commiserate with on tough days when I was trying to enforce a useless sleep schedule and it (literally) took me three hours to get my then one year old to sleep at night. But we got there. It got easier in stages as she became more verbal. It got easier once we realized that giving her space to deal with her emotions while remaining calm helped. We work, together, on taking deep breaths when she’s  upset, and on asking her if she wants to talk, or needs a hug. 

I don’t think I need to tell you that I love my daughter. That she’s the center of my universe. That she and I are pals in a way that I didn’t realize you could be with a toddler. But just in case you needed to know, I wouldn’t change a thing about her. There will come a time when I will not nurse her to sleep, when she will not want me to carry her, when I don’t wake up with the scent of her warm, toddler body filling my nose. And if she always wants to cuddle up to read a book or watch a movie together? I’m down with that. 

And kiddo, if someday you read this on whatever version of the Internet exists when you’re old enough to care about parenting advice… I love you “to the moon and to the back”. You weren’t an easy little one to parent, but you were totally awesome.

High Needs Child Series: A Heart Warrior Mum's Account

This week's post was written by Vicki Moore (aka NICU Mum), and is so beautiful and heartfelt. Elijah's start in life was far from easy and I can't even begin to imagine how difficult it must have been for them all. 

I have never really thought of Elijah being a high needs child, however that is exactly what he is. I spent many a month denying this fact and willing that it wasn’t true. But it was, Elijah was different. No matter how normal our day to day lives may appear to the outside world there are times we have to face up to it Elijah is different. He was born with a Congenital Heart Defect called Tetralogy of Fallots, he also suffered a Neo Natal stroke. Elijah had a full repair operation via open heart surgery at 6 months old. When we were discharged from NICU after 9 long days this is where our journey began as being the parents of a high needs child.

We were visited every few days by the NICU outreach team, I never had to even go to the health visitor to weigh Elijah this was all done for me. We were told to try and live as normal lives as we can. Easy to say when your child doesn’t have a looming life threatening operation. I tried to get involved with the regular new born activities, baby classes, mummy groups but if I am honest I couldn’t face them. I couldn’t face the pity, the questions so I avoided them. When Elijah started displaying symptoms for colic, reflux etc. all of the usual suspects I couldn’t just go get something from the shop I had to go see the doctor. No health visitor wanted to touch us with a barge poll. When Elijah had his jabs I had to get the go ahead to even give him Calpol! When Elijah got his first colds, we ended up in hospital, twice.

I couldn’t risk just leaving him with anyone so I didn’t really go out for the first few weeks. There was a risk Elijah could have an episode and he would need to be hospitalised. It wasn’t fair to put that risk or pressure on someone. As Elijah spent the majority of time with me, before his op he did develop quite bad separation anxiety and wouldn’t like to be held or looked after by anyone. We also didn’t dare move him into his own room, so he co slept with us until he was a year old. Just in case he had an episode or something happened to him whilst he was in recovery. As a result, it was a lot harder to move him to his own room, and he still wakes in the night and occasionally comes in our bed now.

I then had to begin to advise family and friends to stay away if they had colds, or had been ill. I couldn’t risk the effect it would have on Elijah’s heart. We knew he had to be the healthiest he could be for his operation. Overall he ate well, but from day one I had to note down each feed, the amount and I remember the panic when Elijah wouldn’t eat. If he didn’t eat, he wouldn’t gain weight, he wouldn’t be strong for his operation. When Elijah developed silent reflux I had a full blown anxiety attack. We spent hours up the hospital multiple blood tests, heart scans, development checks you name it. I think we could probably tell you the whole hospital menu if you asked. I think this is where I began to develop a slight fierceness, I pushed for what I thought was best for Elijah and wouldn’t let anything prevent this from happening. I researched everything I could so I could go into appointments with the correct questions and would understand their answers. They tended to respect this and were always honest with me.

From the threat of germs and documenting everything Elijah had every even drunk or eaten we eventually managed to drag ourselves through to the operation. This in turn led to a whole new load of things we had to be weary of, not being able to hold Elijah under the arms for about 2 months. Giving him his pain relief every few hours for about a month afterwards and making sure he was eating and gaining weight. Again this led us to spending more time in hospital with check-up appointments and scans. Physically, Elijah was doing great, mentally he developed night terrors after the operation. This had really left its mark on us, and I began to struggle. I couldn’t get over what we had been through and developed PTSD.

Something began to happen, we spent less and less time at the hospital. Our appointments became less and less frequent, but it didn’t change the fact we had a high needs child. When it was finally time for me to go back to work it was time to find a nursery. We were so lucky, when I enrolled Elijah they knew he was going to be a high needs child. They assigned us an amazing senior key worker who took her time to understand his condition, and what to look for. We had a care plan and went into details. She knew I worried and kept me updated during the day as well. Like any child starting nursery they would pick up some germs they haven’t been exposed to before, with Elijah we needed to be especially careful. Still in recovery, they let us know if something was making the rounds and we would choose to send him or keep him at home. They also had to still be super careful with him as we couldn’t hold him under the arms. They were amazing, but all of this prep work was just to send him to nursery something which for most people us a seemingly easy and normal thing to do.

It could be days, weeks or maybe even a month where it seems we are living a normal life and raising a normal little two-year-old. Then something with come, like smack to the gut to remind you that actually no, you have a high needs child. For me at the moment this is flu season. As everyone is getting excited for Autumn, Halloween and Christmas (Me included!) I am also thinking of the dangers of cold and flu season to Elijah. He is now old enough to have a flu jab, me Greg and immediate family are all getting one too. The flu for any child is dangerous, for Elijah it could be fatal. He could have a heart attack. Even though the weather has only dipped slightly, the heating is on and Elijah has his coat and hat on. Yes, this may all seem a bit much but in my eyes I have to do everything I can to protect Elijah from getting ill this winter. He does have his fair share of colds which don’t seem to affect him, any worse than another child his age. It has been a very long time since we have had to be admitted but that threat is always there.

I think when you have a high needs child, no matter what form that may take you can never forget it, no matter how ‘normal’, things seem. I know that we do not have it as bad as it could truly be, and for that I am grateful. There is also a lot of anxiety and loss of control associated with being a mother of a high needs child. You just cannot predict what will happen even if on paper you are doing everything right. If you do everything you can to try and prevent something there will also be a curveball. Sometimes it can be hard trying to get across your worries of being a high needs parent, they look at Elijah and see a healthy little boy they do not know why I am fussing so much. There is a very fine line between letting Elijah go off and explore and be a ‘normal’ little boy and trying to keep him safe, as there are dangers that will not be a danger to other children.

The future scares me, this is where I believe Elijah may resent his condition. He cannot get a piercing or tattoo and won’t be able to drink or smoke. While the other teens of his age group are doing this, Elijah will likely need a further surgery. So far, nothing exerts him too much, he keeps up with everyone else but when he gets to high school this may be different. He may tire easily, he may not be able to take part in as much sport as his class mates and we have to watch if he cannot maintain his weight gain. Although this is 10+ years away it is in the back of my mind.

It took a lot of work on myself but I wouldn’t change being the mother of a high needs child, I wouldn’t change Elijah. This is the family we were supposed to be, and he has made me a better person, a better mother because of it. When others ask about Elijah’s condition, and the op I don’t want their pity, I want them to ask questions. I want them to go and tell others, as this is raising awareness for CHD. One in 100 babies are born with CHD and many will become heart warriors (someone who has had open heart surgery) just like Elijah. Things didn’t go to plan, I didn’t get my envisaged start to motherhood that I wanted, but I have a funny, kind and gentle little boy and for that I am proud to be a heart warrior mum, and the mum to a high needs child.

For more of Vicki's wonderful writing and work helping other mothers', please check out the links below:

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Blog - Confessions of a NICU Mum

High Needs Child Series: Sleep is a Luxury

Over the next few weeks I shall be publishing stories about coping with a high needs child from different mothers' perspectives... Sleepless nights, constant crying, colic, nursing around the clock and dealing with life threatening illnesses and conditions. I shall start the series off this week with my story, one of little sleep, a lot of self-questioning and mountains of patience that I didn't think I ever had. I didn't even know what a high needs child was until Luna was around 18 months old, and then everything kind of made sense to me... We just ended up figuring things out together along the way. I hope that these stories will help other mothers with high needs children feel less alone.

I skimmed through Dr Sears’ The Baby Book right before I gave birth, looking for last minute tips on how to establish breastfeeding and how to get through labour without needing meds. I loved his writing style and how he promoted all types of attachment parenting logic, and the book actually made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Then it was put back into my bookcase to be forgotten about and never really revisited, not until months and months later when I was frantically searching “18 month sleep regressions” on Google that I came across a Dr Sears article on high needs children. For the first time in 18 months I actually felt like I hadn’t done anything wrong with Luna, or failed her in some way. She ticked every single box on his list. “High needs child” was finally something that I could use to explain everything without searching through my sleep-deprived brain for an answer to why my child never slept, never wanted to be apart from me and had meltdowns over just about anything.

No one ever expects to have a high needs child (unless you already have one and just assume it’s the norm). There are no warning bells that go off during your pregnancy, or right after delivery. I remember getting a cab home from the hospital in Brooklyn to Queens, and getting stuck in horrendous traffic on the BQE, and a 2 day old Luna screaming and screaming. That basically became our norm for many months.

I had bought an adorable little bassinet for her months beforehand, and her little 18 inch body looked so tiny in it. Swaddled or unswaddled she refused to sleep in it, falling asleep contentedly in my arms and screaming as soon as I put her down. Those first nights I wondered if it was me, was I not nursing her properly? Was she hungry like the nurse had said in the hospital? Was I an absolute failure at breastfeeding and actually starving my child? Dr Google told me to count her diapers and she was peeing and pooping more than enough, so that wasn’t the issue. Cesar went back to his 80 hour a week job and needed all the sleep he could get so I just moved to the couch where I could nurse the baby for hours and hours and watch entire seasons of shows with zombie eyes, hoping to be able to place her on her lounger for a few minutes in order to close my eyes for a while.

I followed the advice of creating a routine and sticking to it and it didn’t make one ounce of difference. She would never nap according to a schedule unless I popped her in the sling and went out for a walk, not too far mind you because if she woke up suddenly I was in for it. She had her bath at the same time every night, and loved it, followed by baby massage and a story and then I would nurse her to sleep, but about two weeks in she would start crying hysterically at that point, body completely rigid, and nothing would soothe her. I would text Cesar hysterical texts myself, not that he could do anything either seeing as he was at work… Eventually I figured out that maybe she was overtired or gassy or both and moving everything a half an hour earlier and adding a few drops of gripe water and some leg bicycling to the mix seemed to fix the regular 7:30pm on the dot hour of screaming.

It didn’t fix the actual sleeping issue. Everyone tells you to sleep when you can, sleep when the baby sleeps. You know that you aren’t going to get a full 8 hours of sleep anymore, but what happens when you actually have a baby that never sleeps? How do you actually get by on 20 to 30 minutes of sleep a night (literally) because your child will only sleep in your arms (and yes we tried everything, she even rejected the stroller). I know people probably thought I was exaggerating or doing something wrong, so I just stopped talking about it except to those I knew really understood. I dreamed of just two hours of uninterrupted sleep. There were days when I thought I would actually sell my soul willingly for just an hour of sleep.

We adapted. A friend of mine bought us a baby swing around the two month mark and Luna ended up sleeping in it for two to even three hours at a time at the beginning of the night and it saved my sanity. She even slept in it at night (not proud of that but it was the only place she would actually sleep for more than 20 minutes apart from my arms), but in the end I was so tired and after three months just couldn’t face any more sleepless nights, and gave in and took her in the bed with us. I suppose if I had done that from day one I would have saved myself and Luna a lot of tears, but I was just following what everyone said to do. Of course now I know that safe bedsharing is absolutely fine and am not worried about it, but I felt so guilty at the time! That said, at 2.5 years old Luna still sleeps with us and still nurses around the clock so they don’t just “grow out of it” like that.

I would see people mention “sleep regressions”… We never had any of that because she never slept anyway. Teething? It was apparent when she became more fussy than usual, but as fussiness was our norm anyway it was never actually too bad (and all of the molars came through without me even really noticing too much of a difference in mood). Going out? Cesar and I went out once together when she was about 6 months old and she cried for a lot of the time that we were out (three hours tops). We didn’t revisit that until her sister’s birth nearly a year later. Going out altogether? It was a struggle, but I’m one of those people who won’t give into my fears easily, so I used to push through them and learnt how to breastfeed just about anywhere in public (without a cover because if I ever tried to cover her, her banshee screams could be heard for miles). I learnt that it was OK to cancel on something if I didn’t feel like we could make it through without a meltdown (and we cancelled a lot of things the first year). I can’t praise Ergo enough for creating a comfortable contraption that not only helped us navigate trips into the city and grocery shopping, but also through simple activities like walking to the park, making dinner and vacuuming. There is no way I would have got anything done without our precious baby carriers. I used to take her into the city by myself, go visit friends, walk around with her strapped to me, always with a little bubble of fear that her mood would suddenly change and we would be stuck on the subway with nowhere to go to. She always refused to have a pacifier, which I’m happy about now, but I was always jealous of those babies who would suck contentedly on their paci in their strollers.

Luna is two and a half years old now, and still very much a high needs child. She’s extremely smart; fiercely independent in some ways and still very clingy in others. She nurses as often as her little sister and still wakes up several times during the night and fights naps during the day. She has very nervous tendencies, biting her nails when she feels uncomfortable or crowded, and has to have everything her way or she has a meltdown. She loves to walk everywhere, but if she gets tired wants to be carried instead of sitting in the stroller, and although I hate to admit it, I use a lot of bribing tactics to just get us to places. A lot of my days are spent trying to avoid a meltdown of some sorts, figuring out in my head how long we can do something, or the best time to do something… Sometimes I am surprised at how flexible she has become over time, and then other times I realize that everything can change in a second. She is an absolute delight, the sweetest little thing, and she will be a strong and determined young woman one day, conquering everything that life throws in front of her. She also tests my own abilities and patience every single day, and although at the end of the day I sometimes want to just curl up, spent, I also know that she chose us as her parents because she knew that we would all be able to figure it out together. And that’s what we do, one step at a time. There is no rush for her to be potty trained, to sleep in her own bed or to wean, she will be ready for all of these things when she’s ready, and that is fine by me.

I do understand that people don’t understand. It’s fine, I’m not asking them to. I do however ask that people respect the decisions that we make as parents, because for the most part I know exactly how Luna is going to react in any given situation and also that while she may seem fine at the time, we often all suffer from it for days afterwards. One missed nap can mean two days of tantrums and meltdowns. I have had to ask her pediatrician and cardiologist to make a note on her file that she finds visits very stressful and to be as gentle as possible so that we can work on making her realize that doctors and nurses are there to help and not hurt her. Getting frustrated with her usually just escalates any situation, and that is something that I also need to work on myself every day. It’s hard. Luna can detect my moods and emotions easily and I have to constantly check myself to see that she doesn’t notice my own anxiety or sadness.

I think that having a second child really helped me work through a lot of the feelings of parental failure I felt through the first year of Luna’s life. As babies, Aurora and Luna were like night and day, even though we proceeded in the same fashion with both of them… It just showed me that no child is the same, and that having one high needs child doesn’t mean that you will have another. And that some children actually like to sleep. All kids like to have the odd tantrum though… No one gets out of those!

I bet people wonder why we decided to have another child amidst all of this sleep deprivation… I guess I thought it would pass by the time she could speak?! We were actually more than prepared for years and years of never sleeping again, so you probably can imagine my surprise when Aurora started sleeping through the night two weeks after being born. But don’t worry, she doesn’t do that anymore, she loves to wake up at least three times, and still sleeps in bed with us too. Teething has been a real long, drawn-out pain for this poor little one and her new trick is to try to nurse for hours during the night. So don’t worry, these dark circles won’t be leaving my eyes very soon!

I wouldn’t have had it any other way to be honest. I’ve learnt a lot about myself over the past three years, my own strengths and weaknesses, and that in the end we adapt to our environments and to our young. They are only little once, and in my opinion this is the time to help them feel both safe and independent at the same time, even if they don’t make it easier for us. I’m glad that I had my high needs child first. Because after those first few months I was ready for anything, and still am. Long-term sleep deprivation and a full day of work at home while making sure the kids aren’t killing each other? I got it! (As Luna would say). I still feel like I have failed both kids sometimes, but I also know that that is not correct, and have to cut myself some slack sometimes. No one is perfect, and no one will ever be perfect. All we can thrive to be is the best that we can most of the time. 

The Dr Sears article that I came across can be found here. The checklist describes Luna to a tee.

Ramblings: Twenty Years a Vegetarian

As a kid I was one of those people who always ate what I liked the least first, and saved the best until last. I still try to do anything that way even today, although procrastination does tend to get in the way sometimes. In any case, I still remember quite clearly chopping up meat or fish into small pieces and shoveling it down my throat as fast as possible so as not to have to taste it or even chew it. It didn’t matter if it were steak, burger, salmon or squid; it was rare that I would actually enjoy anything that had to do with meat or fish. The only things I can actually remember being OK with were mincemeat (ground beef), canned tuna and chicken breast (as long as there were no “black bits” in it). In our house growing up you finished your meal whether you liked it or not (pretty common procedure back then), so I just sucked it up. The idea of eating ribs still conjures up nightmares and the texture of those little octopi in my mouth will never be forgotten. Oh, and we lived above a butcher’s shop for a while. I still remember the smells.

I suppose it came as no surprise when I suddenly decided to become a vegetarian at the age of 17. My sister used to laugh at me and talk about “delicious bloody steaks” in a loud voice around me (she was a really annoying 15 at the time so that was to be expected), but my mother seemed to release a huge sigh of relief and most of my friends didn’t find it to be very weird. To be honest, I think I just said it out loud one day and decided to stick with it to save face. And I say that not because I didn’t want to be a vegetarian, but that becoming a vegetarian at 17 in France in the 1990’s wasn’t an easy feat. It meant that I actually had to start thinking about what I ate a little more, and making sure that whatever I ate didn’t contain any meat or meat by-products in it.

My mother had been vegetarian for a few years in her youth and gave me some recipes to try. She even started to make things separately for me on Sundays when we had a roast dinner or other family meal. Sundays were the only days that we actually made time to eat together as a family at that point, as work, school and friends seemed to get in the way during the rest of the week. It’s only now when I make different meals for everyone that I really realize how much of an effort she made to make sure that I always felt included during those meals, especially during special occasions like Christmas and Easter. At restaurants my go-to meals would be “a salad without the bacon, ham or tuna please”, or ravioles (still one of my favourite dishes), or an “omelette au fromage”, or just a simple baguette with Brie. There were many times when I had to send something back because it still had meat in it, or I had to pick around something because I was too embarrassed to say anything. I went to visit a friend in Blois for a week and we ate lunch at the same restaurant every day… On the final day, after ordering the same salad minus any meat the chef came out and asked me if I was vegetarian and reprimanded me in the nicest way possible for not saying anything. He had so many meal ideas that he would have loved to make me! From that moment onwards I decided to be more confident and while I still had the odd “oh my gosh I thought I was clear about being a vegetarian” moment, I ended up eating some amazing meals. Just because a country appears to have a very meat-heavy menu, it doesn’t mean that a vegetarian cannot eat well and healthily. You just have to think outside of the box a little and not be afraid to speak up.

I never actually missed meat. Around the age of 19 I suffered from a bout of severe anemia, most likely due to growing pains, too much running around working and playing and a bad diet of pains au chocolat and ramen noodles. People advised me to go back to eating some steak, but I couldn’t stomach it. The anemia disappeared once I settled down into a healthier routine for myself, and never came back. My iron levels have been stable since then, even through two pregnancies and tandem nursing children. For me that is proof enough that we don’t NEED to eat meat, our bodies absorb nutrients from a varied diet, and I am pretty sure that it is healthier for us to not have to digest meat or meat products…

It’s been over 20 years now and since I became vegetarian I have tasted meat exactly twice. I was drunk both times and thought it would be funny. Once I took a bite of bacon. It was disgusting. Another time, I tried a cecina (salted beef) taco. It was gross. Nothing has changed for me: I still can’t stand the taste or texture of any kind of meat, fish or seafood. I’m a real texture AND taste eater, so if anything resembles or tastes like meat or fish I can’t eat it. You know how smoked cheese can smell like bacon? It tastes like bacon to me and I can’t eat it. Or if a meat replacement product has exactly the same texture as meat I have to push it aside. I like the idea of these products as it’s a great way for those who actually like meat to cut down on their meat consumption, but they aren’t necessary for me. It’s easy enough to replace meat in dishes like chili or shepherd’s pie with beans and chunky tomatoes. I’ve been using a little bit more of these products recently in dishes, just so that my other half doesn’t feel like he is missing out, but during most of my vegetarian years I have done without.

I will not handle or touch meat or fish. It honestly makes me want to vomit, the idea of eating it, the texture, the smell, so I refuse to have anything to do with it. This therefore means that as I cook most meals for the girls they also have a vegetarian diet for the most part. I say for the most part as I am a little hesitant on the subject. They have both eaten meat before, from their father’s plate, but it’s been a rare occurrence, and Luna isn’t a fan (but she isn’t a fan of much anyway). Aurora seemed to enjoy it, but she enjoys most things, so that wasn’t much of a surprise. They do eat the same diet as me, which is a bit of everything outside of meat, fish and seafood, and it’s important for me that anyone ask me before giving the kids anything to eat (I had to grit my teeth when a shopkeeper gave an 8 month old Aurora a lollipop once; and realised too late after the fact that my sister had fed Aurora meat without checking with me first, and I ended up not saying anything because it was hours later – please people always ask parents if you can feed their kids something before you do, you never know what kind of allergies or intolerances they may have. I don’t blame my sister because she was just having fun feeding things that Aurora obviously wanted to try but I obviously still need to learn to be a better advocate for my beliefs). Long story short, the girls will choose what they want to do when they are old enough to make the choice, but in the meantime we will offer them a variety of what we eat at home, which will rarely include any meat unless Cesar is cooking it for himself.

I’ve toyed on and off with the idea of becoming vegan. I like the idea of never eating anything “animal” again, but at the same time I love cheese, and appreciate other dairy products and eggs. Then again, eggs have to be fully cooked all the way through, especially the white part, and I can’t eat certain types of yogurt due to their texture. But I also can’t find anything that actually replaces the amazingness of cheese, and to be honest I don’t really want to either. So I have been thinking about reducing my dairy consumption, maybe halving it, and would love to start buying milk and eggs directly from local farms, or even own our own chickens at least. Even the dairy products labeled “organic” and the eggs labeled “free range” aren’t as cruelty-free as we imagine them to be. It’s hard to navigate through all of the products available, the prices ranging from dirt cheap to outrageously expensive, with labels full of words that make them seem fresh and organic, but don’t actually state “how” organic or fresh they are.

Aurora has not yet really been introduced to cow’s milk yet, because whenever she has a couple of sips it goes straight through her within minutes. She sometimes has yogurt, and often has cheese because she loves it (and she is my daughter), but I feel like she has an intolerance, and probably has tummy ache at times that I have possibly interpreted as teething pains (although there are a lot of them too). So I have decided to remove all dairy from her diet for a couple of weeks and then doing the Milk Ladder which is one of my allergy mum friends is using (you can check out Ally’s awesome blog for allergy-mum related articles and recipes). If things aren’t any better by her 15 month appointment in November we will see what the doctor says. I suppose this is as good a time as any to cut down on my own dairy consumption then. I shall not be changing anything in Luna’s diet as she only ever eats when and what she feels like anyway (and that’s a whole other blog post).

I do want to add that a vegetarian diet isn’t immediately healthier than a meat-eaters diet. Being a vegetarian doesn’t just mean removing meat and fish from your diet and continuing along your way. It’s important to know what you are putting inside your body and aiming for as varied a diet as possible. In my opinion this isn’t just because of nutritional needs, but also because it’s easy to get bored when you have no variety. I love an array of colours and always try to create colourful dishes. Green, red and orange always add wonderful pops of colour to anything, and as I don’t like dark leafy greens (no kale here thank you very much), there are always peas and carrots, red peppers and mixed greens in the fridge. I love lentils, beans, chickpeas, tofu, root vegetables, pasta, fruit, most vegetables, all kinds of food deemed “healthy”, and they are naturally a large part of my diet. But I also love chips and fries and candy and if I didn’t have to worry about making sure I remain somewhat healthy I could also live off of that for the rest of my life… It takes work to eat any kind of a healthy diet, and vitamin deficiencies can appear with any diet if it is not varied. 

Several completely unrelated items spurred the writing of this article. One being several people raising their eyebrows when I state that I would like my kids to be vegetarian (no, I don’t think I am depriving them of anything). Another item is the mere idea of killing off huge amounts of beautiful wild horses to create space to build places to kill huge amounts of cattle makes me feel physically ill. And last of all just because I look back at those days in my youth where I wanted to vomit and cry, but forced the food down without showing any of my repulsion, and remind myself to take the time to listen to my kids when they say that they don’t like something. It’s enough proof to me that we all have different tastes even before we can talk.

Photography: Park Mornings

The mockingbird sits up on his perch every morning, right there on the electricity wires, picking up a new tune every few days, partially resigned to the routine of the days, partially trying something a little more daring. I love hearing his voice as I push the kids towards the park, a sense of common ground, a need to blend in and stand out, and a sense of recognition that routine is what keeps us all going right now. The days are either hot or even hotter, the sky is consistently blue, apart from the grey wisps of smoke that congregate on the horizon when a forest or brush fire starts closer to the city. Every morning we go to the park on the corner, walk around and around a few times to in guise of exercise and then find our special tree to sit under and enjoy the fresh morning breeze. It gets hotter as the day wanes here, so mornings are the nicest times, the time when you get everything done that you need to. The grass is usually damp from the very early morning sprinklers and the dragonflies and butterflies congregate in the air and the squirrels play in the trees, giggling at each other.

The park is part me-time, part breathing time, part place where the girls can roam semi-freely, as long as they stay where I can see them. Luna hands me flowers as Aurora takes her tentative steps in the grass; all of us roaming around barefoot, toes in the dirt and feet in the wet grass. Sometimes my mother comes along, other times my sister, sometimes Cesar when he isn’t at work, but usually it is just me and the kids and often a camera, catching little moments that always feel so important to me and to the girls. We pick up sticks and count leaves, talk about colours and sing songs. We meet the same people every day and smile and say hello, and that always makes me feel somewhat grounded. It’s such a beautiful, peaceful place where we make up stories and dream of flying with the butterflies and talking to the squirrels.

It is now mid-Autumn but summer will still be here for a while, months maybe, and we will continue to enjoy the cool breeze under the trees and the sound of nature in our ears, and I will take many, many more pictures to document all of those simple, but special moments. 

There is a full album of photos up on Flickr right here. All photographs taken using full manual mode on a Canon Rebel and a FujiFilm XE-1 with little or no editing. 

Ramblings: Middle of the Night Thoughts

It just suddenly hit me, a punch to the stomach, so hard I had to catch my breath. They will never be little again. Not little, little, tiny baby little. Tears well up in my eyes when I think of those sleepless nights holding my little Luna, her brow constantly creased into a frown. I wish I hadn't shouted at her today. She's so fragile but so strong and likes to push every boundary as far as she can. I want to not snap but sometimes it's impossible. She will never be that teeny tiny screaming infant again, the one who only wanted her mother, unless it was 4am and then daddy would do. These days it's all "mama mama mama", a scream, an angered yell and then "mama hold me" or "hug?".

I don't spend enough time staring into Aurora's eyes and telling her I love her. Or maybe I do, but that happens in the middle of the night when we are the only ones awake. Her eyes teach me that patience really is a virtue, because she has so much of it, enough to give away and still be fine. I whisper in her ear how much I love her, kiss her soft little cheek and hope that she doesn't remember all of the times that her sister pushed her over. Or hit her on the head with a toy. There is something remarkable about being the second child... Putting up with all of that and still smiling. Maybe she is just remarkable. She is to me anyway. They both are. My little sunshines and moonlights and my reason for wanting a better life in a better place. My motivation to make sure we pursue our dreams.

I don't want to forget any of these moments. I embrace them, I snap pictures of them, I put them into words, store them away in my mind, in clouds, on paper. I embrace it all, the darker parts, the struggles, the dawns and the rainbows, even the passage of time. But I still shed a tear for those moments that I will never get back again, when everything is new and overwhelming and difficult, but beautiful and hopeful.

Ramblings: Luna Marlena's Two Year Summary

The latest photo album is up on Flickr HERE.

It’s hard to start from where I left off three months ago as these past few months feel like a mini lifetime really! Three months ago we were prepping for our move across the country and I could tell that Luna was really feeling all of the changes. She has always been very sensitive to change, whether it is physical, mental or emotional so there was no way that she was going to go through a cross-country move without issue. Thinking about it now the poor kid had a couple of life-changing events happen within 6 or so months of each other, first the arrival of a little sister, then a move. Neither of the events being traumatizing of course, just a bit of an upheaval in the world that must have seemed a lot simpler before!

Ah, two years old… A milestone for Luna and for us too! No longer a baby, but a child, growing so fast and changing on a daily basis. I remember writing about some of the everyday difficulties of raising a high needs baby and toddler back in January, and also mentioning how communication is the key to helping a toddler avoid a tantrum. And it’s very true – I have found that once Luna actually started speaking real words we actually noticed a significant decline in her tantrums and outbursts. Not that they have stopped happening, but there are so many more times when I can actually talk her out of a pending eardrum-shattering scream. It all kind of clicked a month or so ago and now words are pouring out, things that I don’t even remember teaching her but that she picked up somewhere along the way. It’s a whole new world for us all and so much fun! Like when she opened a box of toys and exclaimed “oh my god!” in my voice, or when I ask her what she wants to wear and she responds “pink!”. She can now tell us that she wants her auntie to come back and that she wants to watch Peppa Pig, or that she wants to go to the park, or drink water, or eat a cookie. We have a long road ahead of us of course, but I’m so happy that we are seeing some progress!

We had Luna’s two year well child check-up this week and for the first time in, well, ever, she let the doctor examine her without screaming. We have obviously changed doctors and Luna’s new doctor listened to my concerns about her not handling doctor’s appointments very well and was so gentle and attentive that she actually stayed calm. She wasn’t so calm for the weighing and measuring portion of the check up, and the assistant wasn’t very helpful, so we ended up getting a measurement that was way too high (35.5 inches long!), but her weight was about right (I weigh her with me at home). In any case she now weighs a little less than 25 lbs and measures just over 33 inches. She’s not a tiny toddler anymore! But she is definitely still very much underweight and we have to go in for some routine and not so routine blood work just to rule out any thyroid or blood sugar issues. But, as the doctor said, it is most likely just the way she is and we aren’t worrying about it. She’s shot up over the past few months and although she’s so picky about her food, she still nurses around the clock, so I know she’s getting the nourishment she needs. She definitely has more than enough energy anyway!

As you can probably see from the photos Luna has beautiful curls, and I have had a hard time working out what to do to keep them from becoming a tangled mess. Combing them out has always been a nightmare, and even when I tie her hair back it is still all knotty when she wakes up in the morning! After one particularly horrid combing out process where I had to actually leave globs of hair conditioner in it for an hour and then comb it out amidst bribes of going to the park with cookies if she let me finish, I realised that I needed to brush it without fail every day, even if she screamed… But now it is long enough to be braided and it has changed our lives. One or two braids before bed and no more knots! And it looks so cute too, my little Pippi Longstocking! It’s amazing how fast baby hair grows too - it will be all the way down her back by her next birthday. I had long, long hair for most of my youth, and even though it annoyed me in my later teens, I definitely don’t regret it now. Of course we are going to have to cut her hair at some point, and if she wants short hair then she will have short hair, but I am totally going to have fun with it before that happens!

Talking about birthdays… I am really happy with how this one went! I made a pink cake with white frosting and drew a big goth Peppa Pig on it in black and pink icing. I used to love baking cakes for birthdays and realised how much fun it was again. There I was, all alone in the kitchen giggling to myself at 11pm while everyone was sleeping, drawing this ginormous Peppa Pig on a cake. And it actually turned out OK as she recognized Peppa! For once I didn’t feel like I had failed on the whole Pinterest worthy mummy thing (ah who am I kidding, I couldn’t care less about all that!). Cesar and I put her little red tricycle together and added an old-fashioned horn to it (regrettable addition if you value your ears). I snuck out in the morning with my mother and got some balloons and treats and we had a little birthday party for Luna when Cesar came home from work, including of mini burritos made of her favourite foods: cheetos, guacamole and black beans. She also had a surprise visit from all of her new friends who sang Happy Birthday to her. She took everything surprisingly well, no tears and a lot of laughter, even though she was a little overwhelmed at times! My mother always used to make sure we had lovely birthdays so I hope I can pass that along to my little ones. Especially my cake decorating skills! (Kidding).

I’m very proud of how Luna has worked her way through all of the changes over the past few months. Yes, children are adaptable beings, but that doesn’t mean that it’s always easy! Going from being with her mummy 24/7 to having to share that time with a little baby, and then having more people around her hasn’t been a picnic in the park for her. But she seems to be navigating through it all quite well. Yes, she still has some pretty epic tantrums, and yes she does get upset and even aggressive if Aurora dares to touch her toys, but those moments are also peppered with happy, sweet and adorable times of play and hugs and conversations. She is now learning how to deal with the fact that Aurora can move around all by herself (and very fast too), so the concept of sharing is becoming more of a reality. “NOOOOOOO BEEBEE” has become a constant phrase in this family, either followed by her patting Aurora on the head affectionately or kicking her in the chest. I’m sure they will learn to play together one day. It won’t be much longer before Aurora is the same size as Luna anyway, and with the way she is intent on standing up and walking, they will be running around together before long!

It’s been wonderful to see her get to know her Grandma and Auntie on a day to day basis (and this goes for everyone really). I didn’t realize how much we were all missing having family close by until we moved. I think Luna will always take a little time to get used to “new” people, and it takes a while for her to be completely comfortable, but once she is she doesn’t forget! I was also able to leave her with our friend Tiffany for a few hours while I went to the dentist, and she only cried a little when I left. And while we did have very supportive friends back in NYC, it really does make life a little easier having family close here. And of course it’s so heartwarming to know that my kids will grow up having their grandma, aunties and uncle close by.

And now for the next steps on the journey, actively moving towards full potty training (she’s in pull-ups and knows what a potty is so I just now have to encourage the use of it), learning the alphabet and building up Luna’s vocabulary. Possibly even getting her nursing sessions down to a couple a day for my own sanity. We are currently reading The BFG together and it reminds me of how obsessed my little brother was with it when he was young. It’s like revisiting an old, old friend. Reading all of my old favourite children books, Dahl and Blyton amongst others has been inspiring me to take those ideas I had when Luna was born and really do something about it!

So… I’ve been writing these posts for two years now, and I have found that what I have created is better than any baby book, and will therefore be making a book for each child out of each post, including the photos. But this also means that, apart from yearly posts, from now on I will not be posting on a regular monthly or every three month basis for Luna anymore, but more on a random basis, after a big milestone or change, or just because I feel like it. It feels so bittersweet, looking back on the past two years, remembering the blur of those first few months, never sleeping, ever, watching her grow and change and become this little being who is so unique and special. This won’t ever stop of course, but sometimes I would love to stop time for just a little bit and hold these moments for a little bit longer.

Ramblings: No more two under two!

A few days ago Luna turned 2 years old and that was also the last time I could say that we had two children under two. I use the word "whirlwind" a lot and I can say that the past three years have been a bit of one, but paradoxically they have also been a time of intense calm for me. Peace even (within, because that word has sadly nothing in common with the world that we live in today).

I used to rush through the days, packing in as much as possible, looking to always experience and learn and taste and feel. There was no time to spend doing "nothing", days spent in bed or on the couch watching TV resulted in a feeling of guilt. Guilt that I was missing out, guilt that being too hungover to move was a terrible way to spend one's short life. There was always something to do, somewhere to go, someone to see. I would rack up the hours at work on purpose, just to make myself feel useful. I would even thrive on the feeling of being overwhelmed. There was something satisfying with getting through an endless list of tasks that needed to be done simultaneously. Every so often I would stop and think about slowing down, but a day or two later I was back at it; "down time" was spent running from bar to bar, or running around trying to accomplish something or other, often left open ended when I lost interest.

These days I sometimes regret that I didn't pursue my writing and photography more during all those nights and days I spent either working or stressing about work or in a bar, or even just watching crap on TV, or even all those moments when I was reading 2 or 3 books at a time. Nowadays I cherish those moments when I have the time, like this, to write a few words down, the beginning of an article, an open ended letter, a stream of consciousness type rambling of words. But while I sometimes wish that I did have a little more time, it's all so worth it. Having kids or being a parent may not be for everyone, but it has been wonderful for me. More than that, it has been extraordinary and life-changing. The moment Luna was placed in my arms I knew that I had to live up to the person she needed me to be. And I've probably already failed a million times, but I will continue to strive to be better and better. Motherhood came completely naturally, so much that I couldn't wait to add another little being to our clan. Aurora just slid naturally into our arms and our lives, taking over our hearts just as much as her sister did. Going from one to two was actually slightly easier than going from none to one. Although each baby is completely different there are less of those new mama fears and worries when it comes to the second. I also had a much easier recovery from Aurora’s birth, so that also has a lot to do with it.

That said, it has in no shape or form been easy. I still think that we were slightly (completely) insane to even consider having children so close together. Luna was only 8 months old when I found out I was pregnant with Aurora, and they are only 16 and a half months apart. This basically means that for 7 months we had two children under two. Luna has never slept through the night and still wakes up multiple times. Aurora slept for 6 hours in a row from about two weeks onwards but around 3.5 months decided that just wasn’t fun and now also wakes up multiple times during the night. Neither have ever slept in the lovely crib that is at the end of the bed, well not really anyway, and I spend a lot of the night turning between the two of them to nurse them back to sleep. But you know what? It’s OK. I’ve found that unless people know my kids they tend to think that I am exaggerating so I don’t bother to say much anymore. We’ve had an extremely tough time with Luna, but at the same time I know that she feels secure and loved. All of the sleepless nights and battles and tantrums are worth it. I mean, how long is it really going to last anyway? How many sleepless nights did I have of my own accord, either by drinking them away in a bar or by stressing out about things that were never really that important in the long run anyway? THIS is important. Our children are important. And maybe I am just a big softie but that’s OK, because now isn’t the time for real tough love.

I’ve read enough articles and internet comments to know that everyone has their own stance on parenting, whether they are based on their own upbringing or their own experience, and most people feel very strongly about their own opinions. I learnt a long time ago to not listen to any of that. As a mother (or father) only you really know the best way to raise your child, what works for all of you and no one should be able to tell you any different. With motherhood comes a lot of insecurities and some people seem to thrive on making new mothers feel like they are doing the wrong thing. That’s why it is so important to find that support group, whether it be your partner, extended family or friends, people who listen, help and only offer advice when asked. I can’t even tell you the amount of times I heard “just leave her to cry for a bit” or “wean her now otherwise she will still be nursing whenever she needs some comfort”. Those phrases tend to make even the strongest of people wonder if they have made a mistake and are raising their children to become “entitled brats”. I don’t know how loving a baby computes into raising an entitled brat, but there is a huge difference in picking a small infant up when they cry and doing an 8 year old’s homework for him or her. Ah I could rant about this forever! All that to say less judgment and more compassion would probably help a lot of new parents feel more confident about their decisions!

Ah, those first weeks were full of changes and restlessness. Luna had a hard time accepting her sibling, which for a 17 month old is pretty normal. If you combine separation anxiety and the inability to communicate your wants and needs effectively the result is often multiple and pretty epic tantrums. I felt a lot of guilt during those weeks, guilt that I was somehow ruining one child’s early years by forcing another child onto her. Even today, nearly 8 months later, there are moments when I feel that I don’t spend enough one on one time with Luna anymore, or quite the opposite, that Aurora is getting the short end of the stick because Luna is just so demanding. And then for 5 perfect minutes in a day they will both “play” together around a pile of Lego, before Luna decides that Aurora cannot touch her toys or Aurora knocks down a tower that Luna has painstakingly built. But during those 5 minutes I know that it is all worth it.

I found it hard to juggle a needy toddler, a newborn and my freelance writing career. I couldn’t concentrate on anything for more than 5 minutes, even during the evening or night hours when the children were finally sleeping. It’s still hard, and most articles that I write have taken one, two or even five days to write and post. Anyone who says that by working at home they are able to be 100% there all the time for their kids is lying. When I am writing, I am concentrating about 50% on my writing and 50% on what my girls are doing. And usually have to drop the former for the latter, because that’s just the way things are for now. It’s hard to find time to actually talk to your partner about anything, and communication is absolute key in a relationship. Sometimes I look at the clock and am so excited about Cesar coming home from work so I can actually spend 5 minutes by myself in the loo, but then I remember that he has been out at work all day, dealing with a busy, often crazy, job and also needs a time out. There isn’t always a balance and some days I feel like I am hanging from a thread… But then there will always be a miraculous moment of joy that brings everything back together again. A kiss, a new word, a milestone, dinner made for me or even just 30 minutes to get my thoughts down on paper. A beautiful flower in the breeze, a quiet walk in the park, an hour to listen to an album on my headphones, one or both of the girls sleeping longer than 2 hours in a row. A shower by myself! Most days I have both in the bathroom with me while I try to look decent – but I am proud of the fact that I have never gone a day without showering (the bathroom is set up with kid seats and toys for this purpose). So I suppose I can complain about not sleeping but never about not being able to shower!

All in all the tough moments are always outweighed by the wonderful ones. Seeing my children interact with each other, all of the moments of affection, the “I love you”s, the times when both children are sleeping peacefully together and Cesar and I can talk and laugh about how beautiful they are and how much we love them, running around the park, seeing them interact with their grandmother and aunties and old friends and new friends… If you asked me if I would do it over again if I had the choice I wouldn’t even hesitate a second to say yes. If you asked me if I would do it again with another child I would probably say no, not so close together. Two this close is doable, three would be tough on us all. There needs to be at least a year or two between Aurora and another one. Tandem nursing is tough enough (mainly because Luna nurses as much as, or even more than Aurora), there is no way on earth that I want to be nursing three children of different ages in the near or far future!

I don’t regret how I lived my life before having kids, but I sure as hell don’t regret living my life as I do now. I’m so in love with my life, and with my little family, and feel like I can finally imagine a future that makes complete sense to me, and to my family. And I hope that one day when the girls are fighting about a pair of jeans or a CD (haha) that they don’t hate us too much for having them so closely together!

Ramblings: Sometimes I need...

Sometimes I just need silence. There are moments when I wish I could close my ears as easily as I close my eyes, shut out the world for a few tiny minutes, bask in the glory of no noise. Or just place my headphones over my ears, turn the volume up, close my eyes and wait for my heart to soar. Just a few minutes, a few minutes to recreate the balance that has become top-heavy. Readjust the scales, put the thousands of noises and smells and visions and feelings that fly into me, clashing together en route, into their proper little boxes in my brain. Those boxes that are covered in colours that blend together to create a wonderfully multicolored life that sometimes, just sometimes, needs a little calm. A waxing and waning hurricane that requires a little rest by the ocean before tearing onwards and upwards towards its next destination.

Little voices need my ears and my arms, day and night; words ping onto my phone screen looking for answers or help or just to make me laugh; music comes from one side of the room and smashes into the sound of the cartoon that is playing on the other side. Peppa Pig and Nick Cave melt together, becoming one in my mind, and while the image itself is quite entertaining, the reality is a little jarring. Twinkle twinkle little star in my red, right hand. Can someone please ask Robert Smith to record a few lullabies?

Remember when as a child you would look towards adulthood and imagine that all of a sudden everything would change, you would suddenly become more responsible, know the answers to questions, even invincible? Then slowly but surely, as the years pass you realize that you are still the same child inside, your shell is a little weathered and your features more defined, but there was no adult awakening. Instead you continue to walk along your path wondering what being an adult actually means. I feel like such a fraud at times, playing at this game of "being an adult", accepting, embracing the role of parent but still protecting that shy, scared but strong willed soul inside of me. She fights back sometimes, urging me to just jump in the deep end with abandon while I weigh the pros and cons, balancing freedom and responsibilities on both palms of my hands. Adult is just a word for being over 21, nothing more than a word. I think we are all still searching for those elusive answers, some of us trembling inside, but determined not to show it. While the fears of earlier years have subsided somewhat others have taken their place, as simple joys have taken the place of the constant search for something more, something better. Nowadays it’s all about the opening of a rose, the scent of freshly laundered clothes in the wind, a long walk down a country lane. Dreams are less of foreign travels and new discoveries and more of good health and happy children, but nonetheless still entwined. Priorities move around the board, hopping over each other to find a more advantageous spot in the game, and some wishes are stranded for a while until their turn comes round again. My main concern nowadays is to slow everything down, embrace all of the moments and let go of those that won’t be coming round anymore. Some things are just better left to others, or, at least, better left in the past. Nostalgia will cover those memories in a soft, pink cloud, and will allow me to write about them later in a different light.

Ah, in the end silence isn’t always necessary. A few moments to myself to pull these words out of my mind and onto paper also help balance those scales again. A little time with The Cure, singing at the top of my voice twirling a baby around the room works too. A long walk around, imagining life in all of the pretty houses surrounding us; hearing my eldest say a new word out of the blue; baking something delicious that makes others happy; and a long, hot shower with the birds chirping in the background through the open window. I don’t need much, but sometimes I have to remember when I do need something to make it known. Silence can be as expansive as it can be harmful.