The Struggling Gentle Parent

I’ve lost count of how many mom groups I’m in on facebook. Local mom groups, a bedrest group from when I was on bedrest while I was pregnant, several cloth diaper groups (I started and quit cloth diapering all within several months), single mom groups, and anything related to being a mom group. Being a mom can often feel lonely and isolating, so being able to connect with thousands of moms and get advice within a matters of minutes can be quite comforting and actually really cool. From time to time a mom will post about a specific behavior question, and most responses will be along the lines of taking privileges away or some type of punishment. The thing is I don’t agree with any of that, and along my parenting journey have discovered that I connect most with gentle parenting. From my own description a gentle parent believes in respecting children like you would any human. Crazy thought, right? They shouldn’t be yelled at, hit (“spanked”), or shamed. A lot of gentle parents also do not believe in punishments and rewards, because (another crazy thought) we want them to WANT to do the right thing, and not do it because they know they will get something or have something taken away.

Just today I was thinking about all the times I was nice to my mom so she wouldn’t punish me or take something I wanted away from me. I was often afraid of her. She didn’t abuse me, but like a lot of parents she yelled, and threatened. These are things I don’t want my daughter to be around, yet I find myself yelling at my mom all the time. Lately MY MOM has been the one telling me that I shouldn’t yell in front of ellie. I am thankful that she reminds me, but why am I getting so off track? I know that I will never be perfect, but sometimes I question if I can even call myself a gentle parent. Sometimes I think I am too permissive and let my 2 year old “get away” with too much, while other times I’ll look back on the day and wish I had been more patient. I’m usually an all or nothing type of person. When I became a vegetarian at the age of 9 I didn’t eat meat again until I was 19, and when I ate it then I felt so bad about it that I felt I better give up being a vegetarian all together. When I started drinking in college I felt so bad about it I just drank more. I wish I could always remember that it’s okay to mess up, but that I should use it as a reminder to pick up and keeping going and remember why you believe what you believe in the first place. A big part of being a parent is modeling how you want your kids to behave. I want my daughter to see that I mess up, but then I learn from it and do better next time. Parenting is tough, but we’re always learning.

Parents: Are We Really Doing Our Best?

I think as parents we may throw out “but I’m doing my best” as a way to justify whatever thing we’re doing that we feel conflicted about. As I think about myself as a parent, I know there are things I can and should improve on, so am I really doing my best? 

Today I observed a kindergarten class as apart of one of my college education classes. My mom dropped me off while ellie was still asleep in the car. Right as we arrived and I got out, ellie woke up and was upset to see me leave. I reassured her that I would be back, and that I loved her. 

Ellie and I haven’t spent much time apart. I hadn’t read any parenting books or researched much of anything before she was born, so I really did what came naturally to me. We bed share, breastfeed, baby/toddler wear. I always respond to her needs, never let her cry it out, never hit or yell or talk down to her. Of course I say “never” with the assumption that you know I am not always perfect, but in a general sense, that is how I have parented her over the past 2.5 years. I’ve naturally become some kind of attachment parent. Attachment parenting focuses on a close relationship with the child, so that in the long run they are more independent, but today I questioned it. 

When my mom picked me up 3 hours later, ellie wouldn’t even look at me. It didn’t take more than a few minutes for her to be talking and back to herself, but ignoring the parent is a sign of an insecure attachment. It’s hard not to question everything I’ve done. Why is my daughter showing a sign of an insecurity? 

There is no way that every rule of attachment applies to every child, but I can’t help but think there is something to her reaction to my return. I start thinking about what could cause it, and what I could do better. For one, I could put my phone down more. I am with her so much that it can be easy for me to forget to take the one on one time with her that she needs. Also, our home life isn’t ideal. I love my mom, but living in a trailer and moving around a lot isn’t ideal. 

It’s easy for me to realize that there are things I need to work on. Am I really doing my best? What are some things you know you need to work on as a parent? 

I Will Always Protect You

Tonight I was reminded of the first letter I wrote to my daughter when she was just a tiny seed in my belly. I had so much confusing and emotional pain going on at the time. Nothing was clear, but the one thing I knew is that I had to protect my baby, so I wrote her a letter.  

In the beginning of my pregnancy I was told a lot of hurtful things and since than I have been extra sensitive to any conflicts I have with people. Tonight a facebook friend posted about how he thought parents who used “leashes” shouldn’t be parents at all. I commented that he clearly wasn’t a parent and something about not using one myself, but understanding why some parents do. There were several other people who chimmed in. The conversation was going fine really, and I was trying to be careful about not coming off rude or judgmental. My main point wasn’t really even about the leash, but that our perspectives change as we become parents and we shouldn’t judge those that feel they need to use one. My last comment I felt was particularly fair, but then the original posters wife commented. Her comment addressed her husband, but was clearly a slice at me. She emphasized they they did everything right and that no one would tell them how to raise their (imaginary/future) kids. Despite it coming from left field, it cut deep with me. She had been someone who I honestly thought was better than that. I cried, and I hated that someone so insignificant in my life could have such an effect on me. 

It’s kind of ironic though. I use to be like this girl. I didn’t drink, didn’t have sex, and was basically “perfect” like her, but my heart was so judgmental. Everything was so black and white to me and I had all the answers. Now I’ll be the first to admit that I have made some big mistakes, and still mess up all the time. I really try (and of course fail) to put myself in other peoples shoes. Everyone of us walks such a unique path. We can find people we have things in common with, but even those people are unique to us. This world needs more compassion. More “how can I help you” rather than “what were you thinking” or “you don’t matter.” 

In the end I know that the hurtful things people might say about me or anyone, says more about them than it does about me. In saying this I remind myself that this applies to me too. What causes me to say such hurtful things about others? 

It’s always tough when someone attacks who you are and what you’ve gone through. My mom reminded me that this girl has no idea what I’ve been through, and never will. No idea. I am left reminded of things I told my growing baby almost exactly three years ago. 

“Right now you are very  

 small, and I have to do everything I can to be there for you.” 

 

Catching Up in Oregon and Other Mommy Thoughts

It has been too long since I last blogged and I hope to not say that again. In almost every journal I have ever began, there are at least several pages of “it has been too long.” Too many times have I picked up the Bible and thought, “it has been too long.” I’m not good with routines. I’ve always admired people who could get up every day and do the same thing and stick to it. I’ve also felt a little bad that I haven’t been able to implement a routine with my own daughter. I always hear people say that kids like routines, and it just reminds me that we’ve never really had one.

When I last wrote in August and even just two weeks ago I was back home in Southern California living with my mom and brother. Now we are in Oregon with my sister and her boyfriend looking at different farms to live on for the winter, or at least until the end of February. I was really nervous about coming here. I knew it would be uncomfortable at times, but I also know that we often need to get a little uncomfortable in order to grow.

As much as I don’t like routines, I also know that we can get comfortable even if we know it isn’t really the best for us. This may sound odd, but when I was listening the newly popular podcast Serial, I was thinking about the people who have been in prison for many years. I wondered if part of them didn’t really want to leave, even if they could. Sure, in prison you don’t have any freedom, but in a sense you have people taking care of you. You have a place to sleep, food to eat and even opportunities to continue your education and pick up other hobbies. No, I wasn’t in prison but I have been comfortable at home and I knew something needed to happen. My sister came up with the idea that Eloise and I work on a farm with her so that we could get away for a while. My mom is still drinking so that was a big part of the reason I wanted to get away. Mostly though, I’ve begun to realize that I need to get out of the helpless mindset that I’ve been in for so many years. This feeling that I have no control over my own life. While I know I still need to be realistic, I also know that I can do anything. My life is in my control. Here I am, in the middle-of-nowhere Oregon. I’m still not exactly sure why I’m here, but I feel right about making this move. I don’t know what the future holds, but I’m excited to find out.

A Single Mothers Fathers Day

As a young woman we often hear older relatives, complete strangers and our society in general tell us that one day the perfect man will come along for us. Now being a young single mom, I don’t think there is a day that goes by that someone doesn’t say it or suggest it. I don’t know how many times I can be reminded that I’m still young and I still have time. I’m so sick of hearing it and I want it to stop.

On Facebook I usually just post happy things or share articles I find interesting. I share lots of photos of my daughter and funny things that happen as a mom. I save all the serious stuff for this blog. I guess I don’t want any of my “friends” to think I’m any less then perfectly happy, but sometimes like I did on Fathers Day I share something more personal. Today started harder then I thought it would. Literally 95% of the posts on Facebook were about Father’s Day. Understandably so, but hard for some of us none the less. I shared that the hardest part of being a single mom was that I didn’t give my daughter a father and that no matter what I do I can never be a father for her. I had only positive comments. Thankfully anyone that has any negative comments kept it to themselves. I appreciate the support, but the remarks that always get to me are the ones that speak of this future man that will love me and my daughter and take all my pain away. Now, it’s not that I don’t believe that I could be married one day and that my daughter could have a terrific step dad. It could, but right now that’s not my reality. It’s no where near a reality, and whatever hope the future may hold does not take away the heartache of right now.

Hope is a good thing, and it’s one of the things that keeps us going every day, but I’d like to think I could be happy without a man to come along and bring me happiness. I think for me to allow God to bring that man everyone speaks of, I need to be completely satisfied in the love that God has for me and my sweet girl. For my Lord and Savior is the greatest husband and father we’ll ever have.

Giving Our Worries to God and Other Single Mom Challenges

I was at the park with my daughter today when I had another one of those “freeze moments” I talked about before. A moment that seems to freeze and give you the time to realize how significant it is. Ellie was so happy at the park with me. My attention makes her happy, being with me makes her happy, and I realized one day, that won’t be the case. I started to think of all things she wasn’t aware of. How we don’t have very much money, and I don’t have a college degree. How she’ll never know her father. My fears came over me. My greatest fear – that ellie will hate me for what I did. Hate me for not giving her a father. For not being married and providing a man she deserves, to love her and tell her how beautiful she is. For not providing a better and bigger home and not having a good job.

I’m sure I’ve said this before, but these things make me feel as though I am some how cheating on her. That my love and relationship to her is a lie because she is unaware of all these things. That as soon as she becomes aware of everything I am, she will no longer love me.

Then I started to think about what I wanted for her in life, even if one day she chooses not to have me in hers. I want her to be happy. I want her to love The Lord and know how truly beautiful and precious she is – no matter who her parents are. Happiness may not mean getting married for her, or even having a fabulous carrier. It may just be a simple life doing something she loves. And I realized, in these moments all those things don’t matter to her. She doesn’t know other people have big houses or more money. She doesn’t know it’s my former colleges graduation today or that I don’t have a degree. She knows me, and for her at least right now – I’m enough.

I’m not sure what it will be that makes her happy, but I do know if I can’t model what I want for her, she may never know to go after it. Now I love my mom. I love her more then words can express, but I don’t feel like I get the drive and motivation to follow my dreams from her like I want to give Ellie. I don’t even know exactly what my dreams are yet, but I’m ready to find out. I’m ready to show her that I’ve made a lot of mistakes in the past, but God is merciful and my mistakes don’t define my future – our future.

I know that my fears about my daughter hating me for my past will still creep in here and there, but at the end of the day I have to love her as much as my heart can love and give all my fears over to The Lord. I would have never imagined my life just a few years ago, but now that it’s here I couldn’t imagine life any differently. She may never truly hate me, but she is certain to question why things are they way they are. We all do that at some point. She’ll question why she doesn’t have a father, and she won’t have anyone to blame but me. I hope to gain the wisdom from God to have the right words for her and be what she needs during those times, but no matter what she thinks of me I know she means the world to me and nothing will change my love for her.

The Struggles of Living with Your Parent as a Parent

Living with one or both of your parents as an adult is tough, but in my experience it is even more tough as a parent yourself. All things considered, I’d say my mom and I get along pretty well but we are very very different. How I want to raise my daughter is drastically different then how my mom raised me in a lot of ways. The biggest way came to light today.

I’ve been going to Disneyland with my mom since I was 2 years old. Our current annual passes are about to expire next week so we’ve been (or at least I have) been hoping to go one last time until who knows when. Because of the gas money and my mom getting prepared for a trip she’s taking next week, we (or she) decided we wouldn’t go. I accepted this and started making plans to go with a friend next week. Then today she brought up the idea of going tomorrow. I didn’t pressure her either way but hoped she would decide to go. She has a car, I don’t, so it’s not like I make any of the decisions here. She left to run an errand and said she would have made a decision either way when she got back. Not long after she left she sent me a text with a list of things she wanted me to do in order for her to decide to go. One of the things being to remember to put sunscreen on my daughter. Now I didn’t have a problem doing any of the things she mentioned, but the way she said it and the way she did it is what bothered me. She knows I hate it when she tries to blackmail me.

I didn’t respond to her text but worked for two hours on the things she wanted me to do. Including finding the sunscreen. When she got home I didn’t say anything to her and when she approached me I said I didn’t want to go to disneyland. She didn’t give me a chance to explain before she said ‘good, I won’t have to worry about you tomorrow.’

I felt so betrayed. First she tried to blackmail me to do something together that I always treasure – go to disneyland one last time. Then she put me off like I was nothing to her. I know me intentionally made it so I wouldn’t want to go. It started bringing back a familiar feeling. A feeling of helplessness, anger and betrayal. I didn’t really care that much about going to Disneyland, but more about my mom – the one who I’m suppose to trust more then anyone (besides God) was making me feel.

I decided to go to the park with my daughter. We played in the sand, I pushed her in the swing and it truly made me feel better. It made me think though, how I would never want my daughter to feel the way I do now. That I don’t care about her, that she’s helpless or unworthy. The feelings that came to me reminded me why I once rebelled. I had felt so trapped and helpless and when I was set free (to college) I exploded. This doesn’t excuse my behavior or make it okay, but it reminded me why I did it. It reminded me why I don’t want to yell at Ellie, or make her feel like she’s not worthy of all the things God has in store for her. She is worthy and I’d like to think I am too.

I know my mom doesn’t know – doesn’t truly know how terrible she’s made me feel. I know that if I brought it up she would brush me off. Like what I have to say doesn’t matter. As much as I want her to know how hurt I am, I don’t want to feel any worse then I already do.

May this be a reminder to be gentle with my daughter, to make her grow up knowing how valued and important she is. Her feelings and opinions matter. We all matter.

Apart Too Long

I was asked to co-coach a girls volleyball team several weeks ago. I was actually happy that I was asked. I almost did it last year but they ended up not really needing me so I willingly backed out. I would think about it every once in a while and regret not making myself do it. So when I was asked again I knew I needed to force myself to do it – it would be good for me I thought. Doing new things isn’t easy, and I especially get nervous about leadership rolls. I go back and forth about whether this truly is good for me, but at the end of the day any new experience is building my life experience which equals knowledge and hopefully, eventually wisdom.

Tonight was only my third or fourth time going to practice. My daughter has been watched by my mom each time and tonight would be no different. She usually does pretty good. Today though she had only gotten a quick 20 minute nap in and we both knew it wasn’t going to be an easy night. She was very tired and I nurse her to sleep every night so going to sleep once I left would be difficult. It was time for me to leave and she was already beginning to cry. Not just a little whiney cry, but the mom I need you cry. It was painfully hard to leave. As I was walking my eyes started to water thinking of leaving my baby behind to do something for me. I thought of all the people who say its “good for her”. I thought of my future and how I would ever be able to get a “real” job and leave her every day. I don’t know how moms do it. I do not judge moms who work but I certainly don’t understand it.

When practice was finally over I immediately left and walked my normal fast pase home. Just as I was walking up, my mom was waiting outside with my baby girl. She smiled as she saw me and we were reunited once again. I took her inside and nursed her as we do every night. I could tell she wasn’t falling asleep, but was still quietly nursing and gripping onto me. Almost as if to be sure I wasn’t going anywhere else. I suppose she was a little wound up from the nights events, so she stayed up a whole longer and played, giggled and smiled until she was finally ready for sleep. I watch her now as she softly dreams and think of the too soon future when she won’t mind so much when I leave. She won’t always say ‘yes’ when I ask if she wants to nuggle and she certainly won’t be nursing any longer. My heart aches thinking of those times ahead when everything will be different, but appreciative that now she does want to be near me, she always says yes when I ask to nuggle and she is still nursing strong.

The choices and obstacles I face as a single mom will be hard, but I know each moment is important to treasure. I dred making a decision to be away from my baby, but I trust that the good Lord has a plan for us. One that we any haven’t of thought quite yet.

On another note, happy St. Patricks day!

The Reality of Being a Single Mom

Single motherhood is the feeling of your arms getting tired from carrying your child and not having anyone else to take a turn. It’s the loneliness at the end of the day when there is no one to talk to about the frustrations and joys of parenting. It’s the sinking feeling when you have to write “None applicable” under Father on every form. It’s the realization that the only other person who should love your children as much as you do, simply doesn’t. It’s assembling the crib and stroller and installing the carseat alone. It’s making important decisions without the input of anyone else. It’s the tears that swell up when the pain of being alone on this journey hits you, again.

Becoming a mother is one of those things you can’t understand until you go through it yourself. I hate to be that mom but it’s true. Equally, single motherhood cannot be understood without walking in the shoes of a single mother. At times, it is painfully lonely and isolating, but there isn’t a single mom out there who would say it wasn’t worth it. It is worth it. Every lonely moment and milestone is worth it. Parenting simply wasn’t meant to be done alone, after all they say it takes a village to raise a child, but for many of us a village isn’t what we have. We have ourselves and maybe a few people that truly care, but that cannot replace the other missing parent. Single motherhood is hard, but it’s also a lot of fun too. At least I don’t have to complain about my husband who doesn’t help out, I just do it myself.

I heart Babywearing

When I first found out I was pregnant there was very little if anything I knew about babies or what they needed. I remember my mom pestering me about how much use I would get out of a baby carrier. That thing you use to strap your baby to you. It sounded reasonable to me, but I really had no idea how much use I would get out of it. I remember seeing a mom using a carrier in Macy’s and my mom, as enthusiastic and outgoing as she is, decided to ask her what kind of carrier it was. She said it was an ergo, and she loved it. We noticed she couldn’t carry her baby facing out, which my mom had done with me and my siblings. With a little research I discovered facing out isn’t the safest for babies. A few months later I was on bedrest in the hospital for a shortened cervix. My mom came to visit me every day and on this particular day she came baring gifts. One of which was the galaxy grey ergo baby carrier. My life was forever changed.

As a young new young mom, I really had no idea what I was doing (still don’t really) but somehow, someway those mommy instincts really do kick in. My instinct was to have my baby close. To comfort her when she cried, kiss her cheeks a million times a day and sleep next to her. In the first couple months I wasn’t comfortable enough to breastfeed in public, so I pumped bottles instead. Then one day, my supply dramatically decreased so I frantically asked my mommy friends what I should do. It turned out I needed to actually breast feed to get my supply back up. Often times the pump cannot get as much as your baby can, or so I learned. The day I decided I had to breastfeed in public we were going to Disneyland. I was nervous to say the least. What would people think? Would they stare? It came time to feed her and she was in my ergo. I decided to try to feed her while I wore her, and once again, my life was forever changed. Holding, feeding, walking with my hands free? A mom couldn’t ask for anything more.

You might hear a lot of moms in the babywearing community refer to their stroller as the “rolling storage”, and that’s exactly what it is. Sure, we still use the stroller from time to time, but mostly it’s used for storing all our extra stuff.

Babywearing is one of the most convienent and helpful thing you can do as a mom, but as a single mom I feel it has been even more then that. I don’t have a husband or man that will carry my daughter when my arms get tired, or entertain while I’m trying to get things done. I might even argue that my ergo is better then a husband. It holds my daughter and comforts her for hours without ever complaining. It doesn’t get much better then that. Without the ergo things like doing the laundry would be close to impossible – especially with an active toddler. One of my favorite things about the ergo is that my daughter can take a nap anywhere, without having to stop or leave her in the carseat which an infant just recently died from. Yikes.

Now I know babywearing doesn’t work for everyone. I’ve had friends say their baby just didn’t like being in a carrier. To a mom of a daughter that loves to be carried, I sometimes find it hard to believe but I know every baby is different. Knowing my luck my next child will be one of the kids that hates it. I guess we’ll have to see. In any case, I feel I was blessed to be able to wear my daughter to make my life just that much easier. I think God knew I needed it. 14 months later we’re still babywearing, breastfeeding and co sleeping strong. I love how my relationship with my daughter has developed and blossomed and I contribute so much of that to keeping her close, right where she belongs. Recently, whenever she is upset I ask her if she wants to nuggle (nurse and snuggle) and she always stops, nods her head and says ‘yeah’. I’ll miss these moments.