Ramblings: "Wait and See" Is Not an Option

Yesterday I was walking through the park with my kids, picking up colourful leaves and saying hello to passers by when one of them asked me where my accent was from. I told her it was British and her immediate reaction to that was to ask me what I thought of the elections. My response was easy: “a pile of steaming dog poop”. She looked at me and with defiance in her eyes and voice said “well I voted for Trump”. I told her to have a nice day and continued along our way, as I was not going to give her what she wanted. It just made me really, really happy that the park was full of people from all different backgrounds, because that is what the US is for me, a diverse, rich and beautiful country.

I’m devastated. I freely admit to it. I’ve watched with a close eye the unfolding of this election from the sidelines, wondering if the people would do the right thing, and elect the right person to run this country. It dawned on me months and months ago that Trump wasn’t the joke most people were saying he was, and that with every passing week he was gaining in popularity. What surprised me the most was that with every disgusting comment on Mexicans or Muslims or women or the LGBT community he STILL kept getting brownie points. It honestly appeared like it was a farce, that it was all a joke and that he was really just making sure that Clinton won the election by a landslide, but I knew it wasn’t.

Around 7pm on Tuesday evening I was bathing the kids and took a glance at the polls that had just started to come in. It was right then that I realised that he was going to win. I burst into tears in the bathroom and then immediately tried to pull myself together in front of the kids. All of that anxiety that had been building up over the past 8 months landed on my chest and felt like a ton of bricks. Once the kids were asleep I tried to relax but every 20 minutes or so I refreshed the polls and checked my friends’ Facebook statuses, knowing that the inevitable had happened. The US population had voted for Donald Trump to be their next president.

So yes, I’m devastated. My first question was how on earth could anyone in their right mind actually vote for this person?! Well, apparently lots of people. And then I started to worry about my children and my partner and my friends. Trump’s rhetoric has given a lot of people a voice, has legitimized a lot of hatred against immigrants, people of colour, women and the LGBT community. And this has already started to show in reactions all over the country where people are being attacked, called ugly names, taunted and threatened. Children are calling each other racial slurs at school, and fights are breaking out between people of all different creeds and religions.

So please, first of all, people, stop telling us that it’s time to accept it and just wait and see what he’s going to do, because it “may not be that bad”. Please stop telling us that we are just promoting the fear by sharing stories of friends and strangers who have been threatened or attacked. It’s easy to say that when you actually have nothing to fear. But some of us do. Some of us walk around the neighbourhood wondering if everybody who passes us by is a Trump supporter. Some of us walk through the supermarket wondering if that person staring at us has a problem with Mexicans. Some of us legitimately worry about sending our kids to school because they don’t know what they will hear from other kids when they are there. Trump may not have caused people to start thinking this way, but he made it OK for them to act on their thoughts.

I moved to this country because I wanted to be closer to my family. I fell in love with how diverse and beautiful this nation is, and for the most part of the past 12 years lived in the bubble that NYC is. I now live in California, and while California is pretty “safe” and progressive, I still don’t feel as safe as I would in NYC. In NYC you just “blend in”. Not so much here. I’ve written about these fears before (here and here), and now that they are becoming reality, and I need to figure out what we need to do to move forward. But I really want people to stop trying to delegitimise these fears. And if your immediate reaction is to tell people that this has always been around, or that there are just as many attacks on white people then you need to stop and listen to yourself. The first step is to admit to the issue and not to try to make it less awful than it is.

Telling me that this isn’t Trump’s fault but that the major divide in this country is the issue is incorrect. Of course this divide exists, but people like Donald Trump make it even bigger. His disgusting rhetoric and the ongoing acceptance of his words has made it OK for random humans to start going after other humans and attacking them, physically or verbally. So no, let’s NOT pretend this isn’t happening and let’s NOT turn a blind eye to what is going on. And don’t talk to me about love and happiness and peace and Namaste and acceptance BS. I’m teaching my kids about love and equality so that hopefully all of these isms can be eliminated for once and for all, but I refuse to teach them to sit back and accept what they cannot believe in. I’m sorry, I can’t find enough love in me to accept the fact that this country wants a racist, misogynistic bigot as a president. I don’t WANT to look past the fact that people can so easily dismiss all of the disgusting things he has said in the past. You can’t just pick and choose and whitewash the rest: that just makes you a hypocrite. So stop telling us to let go of our anger and our fears and our stances. It’s NOT over. It has just begun and I will NOT be keeping my mouth shut.

I can’t get over the fact that a significant percentage of the voting population either believes that Mexican immigrants are all rapists and drug dealers and that there should be a ban on Muslims entering this country or pretends that they never heard that said. Do you understand how that rhetoric is translated by your average Joe who happens to be a tad racist? That anyone who looks slightly Hispanic or who may possibly be Muslim is now an easy target. What is going to happen when Trump’s cronies start going after our wombs and our reproductive rights? When they start reversing gay rights bills that we have spent years fighting for? When instead of standing together to bridge the divide people start to retract into their communities because it’s the only place where they feel safe?

You want anti-establishment? Then start at the bottom and work your way up. You aren’t happy with how the company is run? Instead of waiting on the sidelines for the presidential elections get involved in your local communities. But don’t tell me that Donald Trump is the way forward for this country. Don’t tell me that his rhetoric wasn’t misogynistic or racist, or that the media “just showed him that way”. No. All of those quotes that you’ve seen and heard come directly from the horse’s mouth. It’s been nearly a week and he hasn’t retracted any of those comments yet. He’s retracted some of the policies he said he was going to change but none of racist crap. And I know that not all of his supporters are racist asshole white men, but to vote for someone and not acknowledge what he stands for is just plain ignorance. It is your democratic right to vote for who you want, but it is also my democratic right to not have to sit down and accept it.

Luckily I still have the right to say what I want right now, and I also have the ability to get up and leave if I don’t want to be here anymore. I have no idea how my rights will have been affected by this time next year and I’m not sure I want to stick around to find out. I fear for my partner and my kids and their rights. Maybe you think I am overreacting or a pessimist, and that’s fine, that’s your right. But no country is completely protected from dictatorship, no matter how many freedoms you have. It just takes one wrong move to knock one domino down, and who knows what the consequences will be when that happens.

(And don’t even get me started on climate change… Although working on reversing that starts at home).

So much outdated information out there...

This is my third pregnancy and my second pregnancy while still breastfeeding. I’ve been breastfeeding for nearly three years, and obviously will be going on for another few after this one is born. Basically, I know what I’m doing and I also know my limits. If I start feeling too tired, overwhelmed or uncomfortable, I will start the weaning process. If not we will just continue onwards as we have been. I don’t imagine nursing three children at once, but I also don’t imagine my first born all of a sudden deciding to wean. As I always say, we will see. I don’t really care what others think either, what works for us, works for us. What works for you, works for you. What bothers me is when people decide to tell me something that is first of all incorrect, and second of all, just silly.

Apparently it is the California process to make sure you see a counselor at least once during your prenatal journey, so I saw the one assigned to me by the clinic this morning. She was lovely, very friendly and engaging, and made me feel completely at ease. Until she asked me about my diet and hydration and I mentioned that it was hard to drink enough water when all I wanted to do was vomit it back up, and that I really forced myself to down 3 liters a day as I was still breastfeeding two kids.

She said: “you do know that after 6 months there are no more benefits in breastmilk for the child, right? It’s only for comfort after that.” I just responded that my doctor and nurse were both perfectly comfortable with me tandem nursing while pregnant, and while she did say that I should at least wean one, she backed down and said “but in the end you know best as the mother.” My eyes must have begun to flash daggers! I no longer feel like an inexperienced mother when faced with these types of situations, but I know that when I was I would feel upset and confused. So let’s get some facts straight here.

1). The American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) does not recommend the introduction of solids until 6 months, see here for more information, and advocate breastmilk and/or formula to be the main source of nutrition for the first year of life.

2). Solids are introduced little by little over the space of 6 months, so by the time the child reaches the age of 1 he or she will be enjoying 3 meals a day as well as snacks – although this is by no means always achievable. Some babies take longer than others. It is still important to remember that breastmilk and/or formula are recommended as main source of nutrition until at least one year of age (see above).The AAP do not recommend the introduction of cow’s milk until after one.

3). Breastfeeding AFTER one year of age provides a whole slew of benefits, listed in detail HERE. These benefits are in addition to any nutritional benefits come from eating solid food. The World Health Organization (WHO) recommend breastfeeding until at least two years old (and beyond).

Breastfeeding benefits do not magically disappear once a child starts his or her first spoonful of pureed avocado or smashed banana. Breastmilk DOES magically change its breakdown based on the age and needs of a child, even on a day-to-day basis. It just drives me quite insane that even in today’s world people who have a certain influence on what a pregnant woman may or may not do can spout nonsense. Whether you are planning on breastfeeding or not, it’s so important to be able to find out proper information from those who are supposed to be professionals. And professionals who talk to you about breastfeeding/formula feeding, introducing solids and weaning should always be aware of the latest recommendations. Granted, these do change quite often, but it’s really not too difficult to read the updated AAP website or medical papers once in a while. We now know that introducing solids before 6 months can cause issues down the road, and that rice cereal really isn’t the best first food. So even if our mothers or grandmothers or great-grandmothers may say that they did it their way and no one died, I still believe in science and research. (For example, I always put my babies to sleep on their backs even though my mother put us to sleep on our tummies. Research has proven that this is the safest way for babies to sleep). So yes, all I want to say is while Dr Google is not always the best place to go for questions, it is always good to do some research and ask different people about breastfeeding rather than listening to someone who has outdated and incorrect advice to give. Breastfeeding can be really difficult for some at first, and lack of support and/or correct information can lead to women giving up before they are really ready to.

(As a side note I have to say that I chose the prenatal clinic I go to because of how they promote breastfeeding and non-intervention birthing. Both my doctor and my nurse practitioner are 100% behind me and don’t have any issues with me breastfeeding while pregnant. I think this counselor just had very outdated views and I probably should have mentioned that to her while I was there. I’m just not as outspoken as I would want to be at times, which often leads to ranty blog posts!).

I love this information page on breastfeeding by UNICEF – it brings up a lot of important points and really provides a great overview. Kellymom is my go to website for any questions – although I haven’t found much about tandem nursing while pregnant, so if there is anyone out there reading this who has done it please get in touch!

Finding a little Hope amidst the Darkness

Right now it doesn’t matter who or what you believe, it doesn’t matter where you live or who you are, all that matters is that people who were just trying to live their lives as best they could, men, women and children, have been caught in a war that has decimated their homes, ruined their lives and killed their neighbours and soon them, while we have all just watched on. We can make up all the excuses we want, “not our war”, “they are all terrorists”, “why should we always have to reach out to others”, but none of those excuses erase the fact that we are just sitting here in the comfort of our homes watching the people die. We watched it happen in Srebrenica, in Rwanda, in Sudan, and in the DRC, always sending too little too late. All eyes were on Egypt and Libya in 2011, but who remembers what happened in Bahrain? Who is watching what is going on in Yemen as I type this? As fellow humans we need to stop thinking in terms of “us” and “them”, stop making excuses about why it isn’t our problem, and do what little we can to help stop unnecessary suffering that happens all over the world. And at the same time, we should also be counting our blessings, thankful that we are warm, safe and fed, because these type of things can change overnight, with the blink of an eye. I’ve been sitting on this blog post for a while now, but I need to post it, as the woman that I interviewed a few months ago continues to provide me with hope that there are more of us out there who want to make a change than we think. If you want to help, I have provided links to trustworthy charities below. If you are only interested in telling me that I am wrong, or trying to convince me that I am wasting my time, don’t waste yours. You can pick and choose what media sources you want to believe but no one is denying that people are dying. This blog post and interview are about the current crisis in Syria and how to help, but you can easily apply anything we say in it to any other cause that may apply to you.

I can’t say that this year has been any worse than other years, news-wise, but between this farce of an election over here in the US, the continuous stream of stories coming in from all over the place of people fleeing for their lives, only to end up being pawns in a political mess, stranded in camps with no place to go, and the inevitable deaths of so many animal species in our near future, I feel helpless. Where does one start? We don’t eat meat or fish anyway, but I am halving our consumption of dairy. I can’t vote in the country I reside in but I will write about immigration as it really is, not how it is portrayed by electoral candidates or right wingers who have no idea what they are talking about. We don’t have much money, but $25 here and there towards a good cause won’t stop us from eating, and can surely help someone receive medical care and food that they really need.

I still have a love/dislike relationship with social media, love because it’s the easiest way for me to keep in touch with my friends and family all over the world, and because I’ve met some wonderful, like-minded people via platforms such as Instagram. Dislike because I sometimes feel tied to it, and resentful that it’s becoming kind of a status symbol to have X amount of followers, and that some writing gigs actually demand that you have a certain online “presence” before they hire you. But that is all irrelevant really for today’s blog post. I bring up social media because it allowed me to “meet” a most wonderful lady who constantly does her best to make a change in this world (with a witty repartee that always brightens my day). This fabulous human being made it her mission this summer to collect medical supplies and donations in order to fill a container to ship to Syrian refugees. She threw it out there on Instagram and got a great response. I personally loved the idea that I knew exactly where the money I donated was going, and that it was all going towards providing a little relief to those who desperately need it. Sometimes it’s difficult to trust certain charities (Haiti post-earthquake comes to mind), because you have no idea if your money is actually helping those who need it rather than lining someone’s already velveted pockets (HERE is a great place to go to if you have doubts). Anyway! Enough rambling, because this lovely lady (who prefers to remain anonymous apart from her IG handle, @whattheschujj), answered some of my questions, and I hope that you find her as inspiring as I do.

How did the idea of getting a crate full of medical necessities come about? How were you able to actually get approvals for this to happen?

The idea came from the charity itself. Most collect clothing, dried food and medics aid as a lot of the work done at refugee camps (Turkey, Greece etc) is done voluntarily. Registered charities raise money for containers and once they are full, the aid is shipped. Syria is literally running out of everything but the demand for food and medical aid is so high, therefore the charities I work with asked to put a hold on clothing donations.

I found it amazing how you actually gathered together both the donations and the supplies and made it all work. It must have been a logistical puzzle, especially as you have a family and a job! How on earth did you do it?!

Oh my goodness I've no idea! I work part time- I scour the Internet on the best bulk buys in the evening after putting the children to bed. I prefer to do things physically if I can. When I can it is all done either on my days off (with baby number 3 in tow) or after they have gone to bed!

There are many causes that are very dear to me, some more than others. What made you decide to do all of this work towards this cause over others?

I have worked regularly supporting a charity whose aid goes to refugee camps in Turkey; refugees from all over the world live in these camps. Although it has been covered in the news, one particular news article just stopped me in my tracks; the attack on one of the only 'working'  hospitals. Once I'd done crying I decided I need to try. To try and do something and the digging around then started.

I find that I want to help in so many ways that I get pulled in too many directions and end up trying to do too much at once. It results in me often feeling at a loss on how to REALLY help. How do you get around this feeling of helplessness in order to actually accomplish something?

Charity is pivotal to my faith. I believe strongly in 'lending a hand' wherever I can. I can also feel helpless at times however I do not let it consume me because the feeling of 'must do this' is much stronger. I simply research the issue. I find out as much as I can about the 'need'. I am fortunate enough to come from a community whereby 'someone knows someone' ; a well connected one so this helps when I'm doing the digging.

Would you say that social media helped bring people together to raise funds and awareness for this cause in particular? Do you find Instagram to be a good platform to bring people's attention to specific crises in the world?

I have never used Instagram before- ever! This was the first time and I was completely overwhelmed with the response. I have used Facebook before but generally I send out messages to people who I think could help/ be interested. I feel Instagram is a beautifully wonderful supportive community and I hadn't thought about my actions as bringing attention to a specific crisis to be fair. I do think Instagram is used as a 'happy place' however, I'm not trying to infringe on anyone's happiness as such. I think it is full of likeminded folk who don't consciously avoid global issues; they sometimes just don't know where to start or what to say.

I've been talking about the war in Syria since it started and how horrific the whole situation is and I am often met with a wall of silence or the usual "oh well you know they are always killing each other over there, let's change the subject to something a little more appetizing". How would you advise others to help raise awareness in places where people don't really care, or can't be bothered to care?

I think it's difficult to tackle people who don't really care/ can't be bothered to care. I have never insisted life should stop for the ones on the 'other side' however I will say this; embrace your blessings. In my mind it is simple; we have a moral obligation to help our fellow man. As I mentioned earlier, some are a little afraid to speak out on the issue but some genuinely do not know what to say. I believe in doing. If you don't know, go find out. It is easy to be detached from the whole thing as we stare through the television screen but it affects us all. I cannot force the hand of anyone however we should all ask ourselves one question "when the present becomes our history how will it dictate our futures and what could we have done about it?"

What do refugee camps and the people of Syria really need right now? How can we continue to provide help to these people in dire need of it? How can we make sure what we send is actually going to the right people?

This can change according to where the camp is/ how well equipped camps are/ how supportive governments are. The best thing to do is to research a reputable charity who supports refugees; support can be in various capacities. Ask as many questions as you can. I always try to donate to charities with a 100 per cent donation policy as I hate charities who build an empire of fat cats!! Ask around; has anyone you know volunteered? Research blogs of people who have/ are volunteering (many specifically in Lesvos) and ask them for guidance. Many people have Facebook pages to document the donations journey and can regularly update to confirm the goods get where they at supposed to.

What are your next steps in this entire endeavour? I feel that while this part might have been accomplished there is a lot more that you want to do!

It's difficult to constantly ask people for money; this is can sometimes breed a culture of apathy and detachment so I'll try to volunteer my time locally for now. I would love to give up my life to volunteer globally on a regular basis but that's not going to happen any time soon!

We have all been watching the news this week, watching the final days of Aleppo, the terrible plight of the people still stuck in a city of ruins, expecting each hour to be their last. I made the mistake of reading several comment sections on different news sites and the ability for people to gaslight themselves is ridiculous. The amount of excuses I have been hearing on why we shouldn’t help people is crazy… Even without knowing or understanding the ins and outs of a situation we should at least put humanity at the forefront of our minds and try to help those who have no say in what is going on around them. It doesn’t matter what part of the political spectrum you place yourself on, if you are safe, warm and fed, you are 100, no a million, times better off than a person who is about to be hit by a barrel bomb or a sniper bullet (whether it comes from a government army or a rebel army).

Here are some links to different charities that you can donate to and/or volunteer with:

Syrian Crisis Charity Navigator

Other charities

You can also reach out to your local refugee center and see how and where you can help. Even a few hours a week or month getting to know a family and helping them to navigate their new home can be super helpful.

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's 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.

Immigration Stories: Female Janitors say ¡Ya Basta!

Over the past few months I have discovered that while California may be the state with the second highest deportation rate in the US (Texas is number one) , there are actually many laws that protect immigrants, documented and undocumented. While undocumented immigrants cannot benefit from state or federal welfare, they can obtain a driving license just like anyone else and it is illegal for a prospective landlord to ask your immigration status when applying for an apartment. The driving license part seems like a no-brainer to me and should be widespread across the US, I think it’s more important for everyone to follow driving rules than it is to flush undocumented immigrants out into the open. It makes me pretty happy to be living in a state that actually tries to protect us with basic human laws.

Anyway, I was at the Capitol last week and my mind was immediately drawn to a tent on the grass and people camping out peacefully beside it. There were signs all around and flyers at our disposal, all with the word “immigrant” clearly visible. Of course I couldn’t help taking a closer look to see what was going on and have to admit that I felt both horrified and so privileged. I was lucky. I came here as an immigrant into a good job, and even when I left said job and lost my visa I still worked and had no problems finding work. I got a SSN the first day I arrived in this country and still have the same one. I haven’t suffered from any more discrimination than your average white female does (meaning not much), and I have never been afraid of the law, or of reporting anything that may have happened to me.

This is not how it is for many female immigrants.

Writing this is actually making my eyes well up with tears. My first jobs as a teen were working in the janitorial industry, cleaning hotel rooms, offices and even a factory, and we were all female employees, often working alone. I never felt under threat, just usually looked down upon. If I had ever felt threatened I had immediate access to the union, the police and to a myriad of laws set up to protect the worker from harassment of any kind. I didn’t live in the US at the time, but in a country where the employee is majorly protected (France). Let’s just say that last week I learned that in the US a huge percentage of female janitorial workers still work for extremely low wages, have no ability to apply for benefits and are often confronted with sexual harassment and rape in the work place. Many janitorial workers are immigrants, and rather than lose their job or expose themselves to a system that may denounce their lack of status they suffer in silence.

While there has been a Justice 4 Janitors movement around for over quarter of a century now, women janitors, and specifically women immigrants, are not protected by any sexual harassment laws in their place of work. Can you imagine going into work every night, fear tying your stomach into knots, wondering if you will get through the night without being raped? Not being able to speak up out of fear of reprisals? When you don’t exist in a system it leaves you completely open to exploitation, whether that be working for much less than the market wage, doing the jobs no one else wants to, working without breaks or being exposed to violence, assault and rape.

On September 12th the SEIU United Service Workers West started a Survivors 5-day fast where women janitors who have suffered in silence over the years fasted in front of the Capitol, requesting Governor Jerry Brown to sign Bill AB 1978. Basically the bill, amongst other issues, pushes for the creation of a registry for janitorial contractors and super importantly, mandates training for both janitorial supervisors and employees on sexual harassment, sexual assault and human trafficking.

I briefly talked to a couple of the volunteers at the tent to find out what was going on and was horrified that first of all I was completely unaware of how entrenched and ongoing these situations are, and second of all by the fact that in this country so many women are still reduced to suffering in silence at the hands of men in their workplace. The women who were fasting last week were only a small number of survivors, the faces of many, many women who are still behind them in the shadows.

On September 15th, four days into the fast, Governor Jerry Brown signed AB1978, giving many families a sense of relief and accomplishment. While this will hopefully make life a lot better for female janitorial workers, we still must think of all of the pain, guilt and shame that so many women have had to suffer through to get here. I hope this will help all women, especially those who feel like they cannot speak up because their immigration status is not stable, to report abuse and to therefore help bring the abusers and rapists out into the open, where they will be tried and sent to jail.

For more information on the subject, including some extensive coverage of the fast last week and some bone-chilling survivor stories, please visit SEIU United Service Workers West’s Facebook page here.

There is also a harrowing PBS documentary entitled Rape on the Night Shift, that was released last year and can be viewed online right here.

I also picked up some leaflets on My Sister’s House that were available at the volunteers’ booth. My Sister’s House is a safe haven set up for women and children of Asian and Pacific Islander descent (as well as any other women and children) where they can find help against domestic abuse, sexual assault and human trafficking. These issues, and those of underserved women and children, are issues that are very important to me and I will be joining in with their sponsored run/walk on October 22nd, and if anybody would like to join me please let me know.

Ramblings: Aurora Vivienne's Twelfth Month

This month's photo album can be found HERE. 

Twelve months… One year… I think back on the last months and everything seems to be a little bit of a blur to be honest. I try to enjoy every minute as it comes, but I haven’t been sleeping very well, and that coupled with having quite a bit of work to do and running after the kids has left my brain resembling a piece of Swiss cheese! My brain keeps darting all over the place, focusing on three or four things at a time, and I need to remind myself that it’s OK to slow down sometimes. So Aurora finally turned a year old at the end of August and it was a very emotional time for me (and for Cesar too). I feel that the last year has been so full of changes and that in a sense it feels like it was both longer and shorter than just twelve months. Watching a tiny toddler grow into a bigger, talking-in-full-sentences toddler, and a tiny baby growing into a big, smiling toddler has been amazing. Having two children under two for 8 months was a challenge, and one that I would most likely repeat, even with hindsight. I do have to say that my brain just isn’t as fast as it used to be!

Aurora had her 12 month appointment earlier this week, got all of her shots and boosters, and now weighs in at nearly 25lbs (the same weight as her older sister), and is nearly 30in in length. She’s in great health and growing perfectly well, which I pretty much knew already anyway. She’s a great eater, will try and eat pretty much everything (including pickles and spicy salsa) and still nurses pretty frequently. She’s still not very good with cow’s milk, so we are avoiding that for a while (and there is no need for it anyway, especially as she is still breastfed). Can I say how wonderful it is to finally have a doctor who not only recognizes us and asks how the other kid is doing, but also approves of breastfeeding as long as you and the child want to. I actually realised that we never see the main doctor, but usually a nurse practitioner, and she is absolutely wonderful with the girls, even Luna actually lets herself be examined. So I’m really happy with our choice over here.

I know I say it very frequently, but I don’t think I have ever met a child as happy as Aurora is. She has her fussy moments and her upset moments, but most of the time she is just a happy, smiling little kid who loves to shake her head from side to side in guise of dancing, and walking around holding tightly to your hand. She did take her first unassisted steps really early at 10 months, but then kind of decided that it was faster to crawl everywhere (and she’s FAST). Then just recently she realised that it was also fun to walk by herself again, much to Luna’s delight (and sometimes anger as Aurora can’t yet run with her!). We bought her two pairs of adorable little shoes and after a little adjustment period of a day she seems to walk around in them just fine. A pair of moccasins and a pair of little white boots, both absolutely adorable!

Both kids are napping while I write this, for the first time in what feels like forever! Their napping schedules have been completely off recently and it’s been causing some issues sleeping at night too (nothing different for Luna, but very much off for Aurora). I think we have some more teeth coming in soon too, all the better to chew more food with, and in addition to all of these physical things some language updates too! Aurora can now say “mama”, “dada”, “cat” and “George” (Peppa Pig’s brother I am assuming), although often everyone gets called “mama” as I think it means “pick me up” rather than “mummy” (it’s OK, Luna didn’t actually start really calling me Mama until she turned two and now she says it a million times a day, although Dada was mastered pretty early on). She also tries to repeat everything you say which is really adorable! She has mastered getting up and down steps, as well as climbing up onto things and riding around on Luna’s scooter. Oh and climbing out of the crib she never sleeps in.

Last month came with a visit from my little brother where he finally met Aurora in real life (as opposed to via FaceTime, videos and photos), and four days just weren’t enough! Both girls took to him immediately and demanded to be held and played with quite consistently. I can’t wait for Thanksgiving and Christmas for Dylan and his wonderful wife Lacy to come back and see the girls (and babysit haha!). Karli, my little sister, has also been spending quality time with the girls as she will be flying off to England and France for three months next week (incredibly it will be her first time back home in 16 years). This also means that we will be taking care of the lovely Bria dog during that time. There is a lot of mutual adoration between the girls and Bria already, and I think we will be finding our family bed even more crowded in the very near future! I’m so glad that modern technology will allow my family to keep up to date on how the kids are doing and for the girls to be able to see everyone consistently even if they are far away.

I know a lot of people think it’s important to live close to family when you have kids, but I honestly don’t feel like we suffered anything growing up far away from grandparents, aunts and uncles! It’s true that most of my cousins are much younger than me (so much for some that I feel more like an aunt than a cousin), and I’m not as close to them as I may have been if we lived nearer, but I know that it was always a treat to visit my parents’ families and that we are all as close as we would have been if we had lived on the same street. At the same time, I love watching the bonds develop between the girls and their Nana, aunties and uncle. And it’s nice for me to sometimes be able to ask if one of them can babysit so I can have a shower by myself or run a quick errand!

This time last year I was getting used to having two little children, tandem nursing and working out how to get everyone to bed at a decent time without meltdowns, while working on a huge writing project. A lot of that hasn’t changed, just that now the little girls are quite a bit bigger and we live in California. This is the first weekend in a while that I don’t have any assignments to deliver, so I am going to make the most of it by catching up on writing blog posts, guest blog posts and editing photos, as well as some of my favourite TV shows and much needed sleep! I also need to sort through clothes and donate as much as I can because we are running out of room again. I think while we have kind of decided that we will most likely have another next year or so, I don’t want to keep hanging on to clothes just in case. Our thrift stores here are wonderful and really cheap.

Aurora’s birthday was really sweet, she really loves her new tricycle and I’m looking forward to the days when both girls will be racing each other around on them. She seemed a little overwhelmed by all of the attention (Luna was slightly overwhelmed by the fact that not all attention was on her at times), but it was a lovely day and balloons and cake was enjoyed by all. We are not ones for big parties just yet, I think we will save those for a few years time when they will remember them. In any case, I will remember this one my whole life!

So, anyway, one year old already! This marks the end of my monthly summaries for Aurora, moving into one every three months from here on out, and I feel a little bittersweet about it. I remember writing her first one and wondering how I was ever going to find the time to make sure that I did it every month in the same way I had for Luna. I suppose we always find the time for the things that matter. You probably realize that the sorting of the photos happens over the space of a few days and I can only thank my need for organization that it doesn’t take longer. I rarely write a summary in one sitting, and sometimes I wonder how much I have left out. But in the end that doesn’t really matter, because all of the little gestures and smiles and bites and food all over the wall moments have been captured and stored in my mind forever.

My little Aurora, so affectionate and sweet, so daring and mischievous, always looking for something to try, throw or climb on, and making sure that I always have those eyes in the back of my head open and aware. She’s taught me that it’s OK to scream when you feel like it, happy or angry it doesn’t matter, and that big brown innocent eyes usually mean trouble. <3