Parenting

My first introduction to Maddie.

When I was pregnant with Maddie, my first, I followed everything to the letter. By the end of the pregnancy I'd read nearly every baby book out there. I tend to get obsessive with studying and researching things, and pregnancy was my pet project for 9 months. By the time I went into labor, I was a near-expert on everything from the physiology of my pregnant body to how to handle the actual labor and birth. I thought I knew and was prepared for everything. I had a birth plan. I didn't plan on taking any drugs -- natural birth for me (my mom laughed out loud when I told her, btw.) I had even worked with my husband on the Bradley method, wherein he would guide me through meditation to get through the rough spots. Bags were packed weeks in advance. The nursery was done well before my 5th month.

I didn't plan for all of my preparations to go out the window. I was in labor for 32 hours with Maddie, resulting in an emergency c-section. Afterwards, I was so knocked out on drugs that I just remember grunting and smiling when they first showed her to me. In post-op, when I got to hold her for the first time, I was just a ball of mushiness. The pictures are actually pretty funny. There I am, holding Maddie to my chest. I'm looking up at the camera with a silly grin and nearly crossed eyes. Ugggggggggggh. Not the picture of maternal beauty I'd anticipated.

Once we got back to the room and the drugs had worn off a little, I was able to actually look at her and study her little face. So sweet. So beautiful. I was in awe.

I was also drenched in sweat. Apparently, I had gotten an infection during the c-section and my body was working hard on getting rid of it. I poured sweat, literally, for about 3 days. Friends and family came to the hospital to visit and I just sat there, dripping in sweat. Again, not the maternal beauty I'd pictured.

And there was one other thing I hadn't anticipated. During my 9 months of intense study, I hadn't covered this area at all: What to do with the baby after she was born. I knew all about what sounds she could hear in the womb, about how I was supposed to sleep at night, what to anticipate with each month of pregnancy, the signs of labor, etc. But I hadn't read a single thing about what to do with an actual baby once it was born.

Bill stayed with me at the hospital the first night and we realized we both had no idea what we were doing. But we got through the night and Maddie slept in the little bassinet next to my bed. The second night, realizing he hadn't really slept in days, I sent him home for a good meal and a night in our own bed. That night was the first night I panicked. I had no idea what I was doing. I tried to comfort her when she cried. Nothing seemed to work. She'd sleep for a while on my chest, but then wake up screaming. What made it even more stressful was that she was doing this all night long. I was so worried I was waking up all the other new moms, whose babies were apparently sleeping silently next to them, that I stressed myself out to the point of tears.

Once we got Maddie home, the chaos continued. I was breastfeeding and she was hungry ALL THE TIME. I couldn't feed her enough. She'd cry and I'd yank out a boob. It seemed like I was doing that every 45 minutes. I was exhausted after the 2nd day. My sister-in-law, who was staying with us for a few days, suggested putting Maddie on a feeding schedule. What? Huh? You can do that? Awesome! She still cried between feedings but I started to have some structure to my day.

Actually, Maddie cried for about 3 more months, nonstop. She had colic and nothing we tried could get her to stop crying. Eventually, I found the book "Happiest Baby on the Block" on Amazon.com and ran out to the bookstore to buy it. I finished the book that night in about 2 hours. To this day Bill and I still call this book our lifesaver. The "5 S's" were a Godsend. We finally got Maddie to stop crying and sleep longer stretches of time. I still recommend the book and usually give it as presents at baby showers, along with a swaddling blanket.

Since then, I've tried to catch up on my knowledge of what to actually do with the baby once she's born. Things were going okay. The baby and toddler years were fine. But now that Maddie's a preschooler, the rules have changed. I now have a little girl who talks back to me. She has just enough knowledge and skill to argue with me.
I have no idea how to handle this. I thought I wouldn't have to be dealing with this, to this extent, until she was a teenager. So now I'm in panic mode and trying to "study" how to get out of this situation alive. The problem is that I'm really past the point of studying these things. I know I've got to rely on my instinct from here on out, but that scares me to death. Because I don't trust my own instincts. I wish I could. The part of me that wants to reach out and hug her and reassure her when she's acting out is clouded by the little voice (okay, my mom's voice) in the back of my head telling me that I better get this under control now or she'll be a horrible person when she gets older. Spare the rod and spoil the child. Or rather, spare the discipline and get a brat.

My mom was pretty strict with us and to this day swears that we were good kids because of this. We didn't get away with anything (okay, my baby sister did, but that was after my brother and I had worn my parents down to the point of surrender). Though I know it's realistically not true, she claims we never acted up in public because we knew better. What does "know better" mean? I'm trying to figure that one out so I can use it with the girls.

I have my mom's voice in the back of my head ALL THE TIME. Every time Maddie acts up, even a little, I hear my mom talking about how people just don't handle their kids these days. In my head, I see that little look she gives, where she raises her eyebrows a little and give me this little grimace. And those things make me want to do whatever I can to make sure Maddie acts nicely. Even to the point that I no longer see her as my little girl, but my project. These things in my head are making me feel more like a disciplinarian than a mother. Lately, I've lost all the joy of spending time with the girls because I'm so busy making sure that they pick up their toys, or ask to be excused from the table, or don't interrupt, or...

Bill comes home and immediately the girls run to him and the three of them giggle and cuddle on the couch and play and I feel so completely left out. I'm resentful of the fact that I'm not the one doing that. I could be, sure. But then I wouldn't be fulfilling my role of being the one who keeps things in order, things in check.

Once upon a time, I was the one who played on the floor with my nieces and nephews. I was the one who made them giggle.

So, with my research skills still intact, I set out on studying how to parent a preschooler. Friends had sworn by BabyWise, which I'd never read. I bought the book PreschoolWise (see sidebar). I got halfway through the book and realized that, rather than helping to ease my fears and give me solutions, I was even more paranoid. Oh crap, Maddie's already 3 and doesn't know how to sit quietly with her hands in her lap. She's going to be a hellion who can't function in society or pay attention to her schoolwork or job. I'll have failed as a parent. Every little thing was blown up in my mind and projected 10-20 years into the future.

I get angry with Bill sometimes because he has never read a single book on pregnancy or birth or baby care. (I take that back: he actually did read a little chapter on what the birth would be like.) Nothing on the developmental stages of a child. Nothing on routine or discipline suggestions for their ages. I consider myself more knowledgeable on these things.

And yet, who is the happier parent? Who is the one the girls run to at the end of the day? Who is the one to whom they never seem to act up or get out of control? WHY is that?

Bill once said that I'm scared of being a mother. Scared too much of making a mistake. It's true. I compare it to dominoes. Any little thing now will determine who they are as they get older.

They talk back to me once now. --> They'll talk back to me all the time as teenagers. --> They'll never be able to keep a job without mouthing off to their boss.--> They won't be able to hold a job and will be lazy slobs.--> Since they can't get a job, they'll resort to nefarious actions, such as robbing banks to pay for the things they need.--> They'll get sucked into a life of crime and end up in jail.--> yadda yadda yadda

See how my mind functions? This, all from a 3 year-old who told me she doesn't WANT to eat her peanut butter and jelly, that she wants cookies instead and I'm a mean mommy.

Why can't I just chill the hell out? I know it's awful and a bad habit to start, but damn if I'm not a better, happier mother when I've had a nice glass of wine every evening. I'm not talking slap-happy drunk. Just buzzed a little. I have friends who actually do have a glass every evening. It's their routine, their mantra. That's cool but I don't trust myself to just let it be something light. As with the girls, I worry about 5 years down the road when I'm an alcoholic who is outcast by her family and whose daughters will write a book about how their mom was a slobbering drunk and was never there for them. See how my mind works?

Anyway, the end result is that I've stopped reading parenting books. I'm trying to be reasonable with my expectations. I'm trying to quiet that little voice (okay, my mom's voice) that makes me feel insecure as a parent. I'm trying to just enjoy the girls for who they are now, and not worry about who they will be 5 years from now. It's hard. Really hard. But I'm trying. And in the process, I'm actually starting to smile a little more.

I've even played on the floor and made the girls giggle a few times.