Attachment Parenting Really Does Work

Even when you don't necessarily want it....

My sister and mother invited Jessica to go up camping with them this week. We've been camping forever at this one campground in Maine, it's right on the ocean, and most of my family goes up there. I'm not a camper, and neither is my cousin Becky, so for the past couple of years, we've been going up for half a week, and staying at my sister Aimee's house, which is about twenty minutes away.

Jessie left last Saturday, and I got up there on Wednesday afternoon. I've NEVER not had Jessie with me for more than one night. She's done the occasional sleepover, but only for one night, not ever for FOUR whole nights. And she was perfectly fine without me. She's LOVING it up there, I swear to God, she's taller. She's super confident, totally independent, and perfectly content up there. She didn't want to come back to sleep at my sister's house with me on Wednesday night, and didn't even consider coming home with me last night. We were joking that she may well just try to find another family when my sister comes home, so that she can just stay the whole summer up at Hermit Island ;-).

My kids are clingy. All three of them. They've all been renowned throughout the family as being especially attached to me, moreso than the average kid. And I indulge it, I rarely leave them, especially if they don't want me to go. I hold them all the time, nurse on demand, co-sleep, wear the baby. There have been times when even I think I'm crazy and too indulgent with the attachment, too quick to bring them along with me, and not force them to go off without me. But I can't stand to leave them crying, and have always felt like if they wanted to be with me that much, if possible, I let them.

And the results are... a beautiful, confident, independent seven year old, who's self reliant, perfectly behaved and so amazingly independent that Iwas totally taken aback. I expected her to cry and whine and fall apart once she saw me, to graft herself onto my leg and not ever want to leave. And it just didn't happen. She did sit on my lap, and she definitely missed me, but she didn't need me up there, and was more than happy to wave goodbye when I left and go back to enjoying her time at the beach. Everyone up there kept reassuring me that Jessica was the best behaved child up there, never whined, never fussed, was independent and happy and just an angel girl. She played well with everyone, could entertain herself just as easily alone.

I am so incredibly proud of her. So in awe of the girl that she's becoming - and just a tiny bit wistful... where did my baby go?

Moments I don't want to forget

Earlier tonight, Sam and I were watching a little television. I was reading and nursing Julie and Sam was stretched out on the floor in front of me. I asked him what he wanted to watch, and listed a couple of choices for him to pick from. He told me he wanted to think for a bit so I went back to my book. After a few minutes, I looked down to find him gazing contemplatively at me, so I asked if he had decided yet. And he said, in the sweetest little boy voice possible, "No, Mama, I just like looking at you."

I may just be the luckiest mommy in the world, to have been blessed with a Sammy boy like him.

Hermit Island girl

My oldest daughter is very feminine. Very traditionally feminine in a lot of ways. She's got a thing for babies, likes reading and coloring and dressing up and having her hair done in pretty styles. She's a girl who likes her creature comforts, she likes a soft clean bed, clean clothes, heat, etc. Which is why I'm fascinated to hear that she's LOVING life up in Maine this week. My family has been camping forever, and for the past twenty two years, we've been trekking three hours up to the Maine coast to camp for a week at a campground called Hermit Island. It's not precisely an island, more a peninsula, but it's got lots of beaches, lots of dirt, lots of bugs, and lots of deer. My parents have graduated to a camper (that's a real rite of passage in my family - getting a pop up camper) but my sister is still using a tent.

I don't like camping. I love, love, love the ocean, but also love being able to take a hot, clean shower at the end of the day. I like a good campfire, but prefer to sleep in a soft clean bed and go to the bathroom barefoot. Which is why I'm profoundly grateful that my sister Aimee bought a house about twenty minutes away from the campground and graciously lets me (and my pregnant cousin) stay there each year.

Jessica, for the first time ever, went up early. My mother and my sister went up yesterday and Jessie has been camping her little heart out. According to my mother, she's blissfully happy, thrilled to death, in the ocean all the time, bouncing around the island with a permagrin on her face. Fascinating. I would not have predicted this. In fact, the child I would have thought would love camping would be Sam, and he absolutely hates it. It's my Jessie Bug who's a camping girl, she's the one who lives all year for this one fabled week up at the ocean.

This is just part of what I like about parenting - you're constantly surprised at who your kids become :-)

Happy Birthday to my Samilicious

I'm actually late in posting this - his birthday was last Tuesday. We had his first slumber party last night and he was blissfully happy the entire time. We invited his bestest friend Brian (he's seven and Sam worships him) and Harrison, got them water guns, pizza and a star wars movie and it was heaven for him.

At four years old, I can see the kind of man Sam will grow up to be, and he's going to be nothing short of amazing. He's so smart and funny and sweet, and utterly, completely a little boy. He's all guns and superheros - any sort of man in a helpful role sort of guy. So he loves policemen and firemen and army guys and superheros. He's embraced the "little brother" role and spends his time bugging his older sister. He's even started repeating everything she says - like he got a handbook somewhere on how to be the most irritating little brother ever and is just flipping thru the pages, trying out one tactic after another. But when they aren't fighting, he loves his big sister Jessie and is never happier than when she's loving him back. He's also all about being a "big brother," dropping down to get in Julie's face and coo "Hello baby girl" at her, frequently scaring the hell out her, because he'll be running around and see her and then bam, be in her face loving her. He gives me what we call "Sammy snuggles" every morning, crawling into my lap and snuggling right up against me. He still is very much a Daddy's boy, when Marc is here, he's the sun that my little boy orbits around. Sam's all high energy and he runs like a mad man, until he's tired, at which point, he lays down and sleeps. In so many ways, he's my easiest child. He rarely has temper tantrums, his emotions are easy to understand, he doesn't hold a grudge and he's sunshiney happy a lot. When he does get mad, he gets REALLY mad, and it can take a while for him to calm down. Time outs with Sam are not easy, he'll scream like a lunatic the whole time and then need a little settle down time afterward. He's stubborn and strong willed and very definite about what he wants and what he doesn't.

He's my love bug, my angel boy. He's my Samilicious - and I can't imagine what I'd do without him.

selfish, selfish, selfish

I wish I was a better person sometimes. Well, all the time, I wish I was a better person, but sometimes it really strikes me that my life would be easier if I was less selfish, more giving. More able to put aside my own needs and focus entirely on everyone else's.

I'm a stay at home mom with three young children. I have a very busy husband with diabetes, and when he isn't working, he's working out. I spend what seems like all of my time either chained to a chair in the living room nursing Julianna or scurrying around like the wind, trying desperately to clean up the house. And sometimes, like last night, for example (and most of today, if I'm being honest), it just overwhelms me and I can't help feeling tired, touched out, worn out. Desperate for a quiet shower without anyone screaming for me. Dreaming of a full night's sleep and waking up when I've slept enough. Wishing for more help, more support, more ... of a lot of things. If I had more disposable income, I could hire a maid. If I had more time, I could get the house clean.

There are things about my life that are unchangable. I can't change the fact that Marc works fifty hours a week. I can't change the fact that he goes to the gym every other night. I can't change the fact that the kids make an ungodly mess pretty much all the time. And I'm not blind to the fact that I sound like an ungrateful brat, because my husband is working so hard to make a nice life for our family, and keep himself healthy for us. And I know full well the heartbreak of infertility, and how many women would kill to have my problems.

All that being said... I'm a little unhappy at the moment. Since this isn't my desired way of being, and it's up to me to change it, what can I do to make it better? The sleep and the shower - well, I'm probably not going to get those anytime soon. I want to be there for Julianna, I have no desire to sleep train her, and so that's a managable problem. And I'll get a shower, she might scream bloody murder while I'm in there, but I can deal with that.

Maybe I just need to get more organized. More structured. Set up some household chores, reasonable bedtimes, and clear expectations about the weekends. This is all managable. I just have to put systems in place to handle it. I'm going to ponder this for a while... Jessica is on her way up to Maine for the week, and I'll be following behind her on Wednesday with my cousin and the other two kids. While I'm up there, I'll figure out some new rules, new routines. I think if I get things a little more organized, a little more structured, maybe it'll be easier.

I'm also going to remind myself of what I'm constantly repeating to my little Jessie Bug Noodle. Happiness is a choice, and I have blessings beyond anything I ever dreamed of. A husband who cherishes me, three healthy children that I'm lucky enough to stay home and raise. I'm going to stop complaining and start being grateful for what I have :-)

Free Range Kids

http://freerangekids.wordpress.com/

This is my goal. I read a lot, and since becoming a parent, I read a lot of parenting books. There have been several that have really impacted me, but one that had a huge effect on the way I want to parent is Free Range Kids by Lenore Skenazy. It's about not overprotecting your children, not hovering over every little decision, allowing them to play outside unsupervised. It's about raising your kids to not just believe that they are capable, but to actually be capable. Giving them freedom. In essence, that's what it's about. Giving your kids the chance to become self reliant.

She's got all kinds of statistics to back her up, hard evidence that the world today is as safe, if not safer, than it was when I was kid. Kids are almost never kidnapped by strangers, and teaching them to be afraid is the wrong lesson. People are basically good, I believe that, and after reading her book, I realized that I wanted my kids to believe that the world is a good place, and that strangers aren't dangerous and scary. I want them to feel confident and secure, and if I constantly hover over them, never letting them go out of my sight, they'll learn only that their safety is entirely dependent upon my presence.

So that's my goal - to let my kids experience a childhood filled with all those things that we think of when we remember the best of our own childhoods. Backyard campouts, playing outside for hours, ranging all over the neighborhood, walking home from school and to and from the library. Bike riding everywhere, just because we wanted to go. It's letting Jessie and Sam play outside without me there. It's letting Jessie walk to the store without me, trusting that she's smart and careful. I'm not good at letting go. I want to be, so I keep trying. Because I want them to be strong and capable and independent. I want them to feel safe and secure by themselves, not just when I'm with them. I want them to feel like they can do anything - and to know that they can. They won't know that unless I let them try. Unless I let them play outside by themselves, unless I let them out of my sight and let them run. Let them do the laundry, microwave their own food, go to the park without me (although I'm not brave enough for that one yet).

I struggle with it, right now, they're outside playing and I feel guilty that I'm not outside watching to make sure that nobody steals them. Jessie wants to walk down the street to the Honey Farms by herself and I'm almost ready to let her. She's walked ahead of me, by a lot, and done fine. Looked both ways, twice, on every cross road and was so pleased with herself as a result. I let Jessie hold Julianna - because I know that she's careful and I know that her sister is safe in her arms. As a result, Jessie is supremely confident around babies. Because I trusted her, taught her how to do it, and let her. That's the key. I let her. Which is good for Jessie and Julianna.

So I'm a free range parent. Mostly. Because it does sort of go against my natural instincts - which are to keep them safe, within my line of vision at all times. I love my kids and the thought of them being hurt or even worse, kidnapped, is so horrible to me. But I have to keep telling myself that the chance of that happening is so small, and that the price to be paid by never letting them learn how to be without me is really high. In order to let them grow up, I have to let them learn how to be without me. In the same way that I taught them to eat solids, and to walk, and how to write and read. I have to teach them how to be responsible and smart and then let them do that. Because if I never let them experience life without me, they'll grow up completely protected and coddled and be incapable of living their own lives. And I want these kids to have the amazing lives they deserve.

Vaccines

Of course, with a title like that, you might expect a more controversial post, but not so much. Simply that Julianna got her two month shots today, and has been asleep for the past two hours. Marc took her for the appt, because I've got extra kids here I was watching, plus he took the morning off to do it. I pumped breastmilk, and wanted him to get some quality time in with her. But still missed her like my arm had been severed when he drove away with my baby. He was gone for about an hour and she's been dozing in her car seat on the dining room table for the past two hours. I don't think I've gone this long without holding her. Ever. I keep telling myself to let her sleep, her body obviously needs it, but I'm missing having my baby girl in my arms, and will probably wake her very soon.

In other news... we're suffering thru a killer heat wave, and it's too hot to be outside. Sticky and gross out there, so I've got (let me count) six kids in my tiny apartment at the moment, not counting Julie. Three boys and three girls. But they're cool and playing well, and my living room is a disaster pretty much non stop anyway, so I shouldn't quibble with a little mess, right?

Off to the beach tomorrow, I think we're heading to NH. Julie's first glimpse of the ocean. The older two will have a wonderful time, but Julie and I will be hanging under the umbrella hoping for a breeze all day.