My New Year: A Lesson in Compromise and Hope

 

Kalev in his Yom Kippur finery

We just celebrated the Jewish New Year. It is one of my favorite times of the year—filled with hope, spirituality and renewal. But this year it came so incredibly fast. I enjoyed Rosh Hashanah—did some apple art projects with Kalev and made some yummy festive apple dishes to celebrate. Enjoyed the family service and Tashlich. Really wished I could have attended the other services but we couldn’t find a sitter and since they were during Kalev’s bedtime and naptime, it made things difficult. So I dealt with my annoyance and compromised there—this year Matt would get to attend Erev Rosh Hashanah (the evening service) and the morning service since I felt Kalev needed me to put him to bed and down for his nap. And my main thing that I’ve really recognized in myself and in the person, and mother, I want to be is my need to meet Kalev’s needs to the best of my ability. So I stayed home. Is that why the Days of Awe flew by and all of a sudden it was Yom Kippur? How did that happen? Usually I am at my most introspective during these days, really thinking about who I am, what I have done, and what I want to change for the next year. This is when I make my new year’s resolutions. I don’t do it January 1^st; during the Jewish New Year I am feeling more spiritual and more in tune with myself. Therefore it’s the ideal time for deep thinking, planning, and goal setting. The resolutions I create are a combination of what I want to accomplish in the next year and what transgressions I committed in the past year that I want to cease and change for next year. But this year the days went by so fast that all of a sudden it was Kol Nidre (the evening service of Yom Kippur) and I realized I hadn’t done my deep thinking. Who had I harmed? Who did I need to make amends to? What actions did I need to cease? What did I want to do differently next year? What were my resolutions? And the super big intense question of all—holy crap, would I be inscribed in the Book of Life when I had forgotten to do all this? I had ten days to do this thinking and suddenly I was freaking out and looking deep inside myself as I nursed Kalev to sleep.

Luckily we have the internet. And boy did I use it that night. If I could not be at services sitting next to my husband, listening to the wisdom of our very special and intelligent Rabbi, I was going to do my own Yom Kippur session at home while my baby slept in my arms (this became quite fitting once I made some important connections about myself and my wants). So I read and read about Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, articles and blogs, stories of High Holiday experiences now and of a long time ago. I came across a strategy for making and keeping your resolutions. I quickly jotted down my responses:

            To be more patient.

            To not yell as much.

            To not be as judgmental about others.

            To not be as envious of others.

            To be more mindful.

            To parent with love not coercion.

            To schedule our time with activities of love, not obligation.

            To say “no” more. (Not to my husband of course! ;-))

When I reviewed these resolutions I realized that this year they were really internal, about changing and improving my inner self and how that is reflected upon and connected to those I love. And that’s kinda cool because that’s what I keep saying I want but this quick knee-jerk response exercise showed me that this is indeed who I am right now. And that gave me a really nice feeling of peace. Of being okay with the compromises I am making so that I can be this person I feel I need and want to be.

Having this knowledge of myself and where I wanted to be really helped me frame the rest of Yom Kippur in a way that was most meaningful to me. I again did not make it to all the services; that was my compromise between the Jew I want to be and the mother I am and need to be. We all went to the family service. By looking at this service through my new “deep thinking” lens, I didn’t think about it like I had on Rosh Hashanah—how short it was, how I missed the truly awesome sermon our Rabbi led on Rosh Hashanah that everyone keeps talking about, or how much we kept singing that same darn “Turning” song. Instead, I focused on how this service really simplified the holiday for me so that I could get the nuts and bolts of the special day in about 30 minutes. Not ideal for the Jew I want to be, but essential for the mother I am to the 22-month-old toddler that still couldn’t sit through the entire service. When Kalev and I went home to nap we watched some of the fun High Holiday you tube videos we had discovered (Aish’s Rosh Hashanah Rock--Kalev is soooo going to be a breakdancer! and The Fountainhead’s Dip Your Apple). Definitely no Rabbi Alfi sermon, but again, the simple message in a fun way that I can remember, think about, and most importantly share and teach to my son, who absolutely loves these videos and keeps asking for “more, more” even though Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are now over. So definitely another compromise that I came to accept was right for this time and place in my life.

The one grown-up service I got to attend most of was the afternoon service, where we went through the Avodah. As we started the responsive reading of this section I was kinda like, oh great, I get to stay for the super sad stuff of an already intense day. But as I listened to a Holocaust survivor read in Yiddish and then in English about his brothers in the gas chambers of Amsterdam I realized I was here attending this service for a reason. I don’t like sad stuff. I rarely read about the Holocaust because it makes me so sick. I like happy ending books. I like Rosh Hashanah when we’re singing and feeling uplifted. But here I was, deep into the saddest of the sad, reading some really graphic stuff. This was part of the point of this day--to look in the mirror, to face death, and to question whether what you face is what you want to be. And thinking that way turned my uncomfortable sad feelings into feelings of hope. He made it. We as a people made it. There are lots of sad and icky and scary things going on in this world right now but we have the power to make a difference. I’m not a political person but as I sat listening to the melody of this man, this survivor’s, voice, I felt the deep knowledge of power and connection. Power in choosing paths, in electing our government leaders, in teaching of right and wrong and in freedoms. All things I want to teach my son. This connection and inspiration gave me lots of hope for myself, my family, and my community. And it gave me hope for the person I saw in my mirror.

I did not have a High Holy Day experience like I usually have. I did not attend all the services, I missed some really neat sermons, and I connected with the holiday more as a child would than an adult. But I think I got the message. I want to change. I want to cleanse my mistakes, start fresh and make next year a good year. I want to be a better person. I want to be inscribed in the Book of Life. My experience this year helped me clarify that yes, I want to be a better mother and I want to teach and guide my son to want and do all these things as well, and that it is really okay to put this want as a priority. I may need to compromise on some things and think of creative ways to meet my other priorities and interests but for now, I am a mother. It’s not the easiest thing I’ve done but it’s who I want to be, I’m the happiest and the most peaceful I feel that I have ever been, and I have the joy and responsibility of teaching these lessons to my son. As I think back over this special day, I am filled with hope of giving these gifts of knowledge, of peace, of choice, of connection, of community, and of love to my sweet baby.  

Why Haven’t I Learned Yet?

Last night I lay in bed discouraged. What had started as a beautiful, fun, spontaneous day had turned into a challenging, exhausting, frustrating afternoon and evening. I watched my now-peaceful son sleeping next to me and hated myself for the totally not-mindful mama I felt I acted like the past few hours. I know better. I read about it, I write about it, I talk about it endlessly—how to be a mindful, intentional, responsive, and respectful parent. So why haven’t I learned how to do it yet?!

The following were questions about this issue of responding mindfully that I jotted down last night when I was too tired to write here:

·      Why haven’t I learned that just because I am progressing down my to-do list it doesn’t mean Kalev doesn’t need me right at that exact moment?

·      Why haven’t I learned that even if Kalev just had a three-hour nap that he could still be tired?

·      Why haven’t I learned that it is more important to dance with my son than do the dishes or make dinner?

·      Why haven’t I learned that cuddling and nursing until Kalev signals he’s ready for the next activity would prevent the battle for my attention and my fixation on getting things done?

·      Why haven’t I learned that time is too short and so very soon Kalev won’t be asking me to play with him? Or to cuddle him? Or to nurse him?

·      Why haven’t I learned that it so important, one of the most important things, to just be, instead of do, do, do?

Framing these questions made me feel better. I know I have learned the answers to them, it’s just hard to always remember when I’m tired and preoccupied. And it’s hard, in fact impossible, to always remember and implement these answers and responses every single time. I know I have it in me to give Kalev the response he needs and deserves and usually I do a pretty good job. And I know from our childbirth class that being mindful is about realizing this knowledge, even when the knowledge shows your mistakes and ways you did not want to act.

I also know one of the most important things we are so lucky to have as parents—that when Kalev woke up with a huge smile on his face and greeted me with kisses, he had already forgiven me even before I apologized. And when I told him I was sorry about how I acted and that it was not right for me to be so impatient and frustrated, he nodded and smiled, then took my hand to go and play. And, because I had learned a little bit, I followed. Even though the dishes are still in the sink. Even when I mess up, when I’m not mindful, when I’m not the best mother in the world, I’ll get another chance to implement all these things I’ve learned. That’s what’s so great about a loving relationship—since I do okay most of the time, I get some slack when I mess up. There’s no perfect parent and mistakes happen. It’s how we repair them and how we act the next time that shows how mindful we are as parents, and teaches our children how to forgive, ask for forgiveness, and know that tomorrow is another day to try again. And since today is Friday, I have a feeling today is going to be a good day!

Impromptu Dance Party

We are exhausted this morning. None of us slept well last night. The house was too warm, the fans we had on dried everyone out, Kalev has two teeth coming in (one a molar) and was restless all night, then woke up early, even before Matt’s alarm went off. Boo. Kalev was the only one excited to get up, even the dogs didn’t want to move off the bed. When a morning starts like this the pessimistic people of this world tend to think it sets the tone for the day. And I started to let it set that tone. I was annoyed Kalev dumped his breakfast into Gracie’s food bowl, frustrated that Kalev wanted attention when I was trying to make my breakfast, exasperated when Kalev wanted to play outside after our morning walk when I wanted to get the dishes done. And during that walk I had not noticed the benefits of walking through our neighborhood a whole hour early—no other dog walkers, kids not going to summer school at the school down the street, the birds chirping to greet this beautiful morning, Gracie NOT barking at the new puppies yapping at her as we passed their front yard, it not being a thousand degrees outside. No, I did not think about these things. Instead, I concentrated on how tired I was, on all the things I had to do today and how being tired was going to make it so much harder—dishes, clean up the house, prepare for the in-laws to come, get Kalev down for a nap early enough to avoid a meltdown but late enough that he will sleep long enough to not make the afternoon another set of exhausted interactions, get him to and have him happy at gymnastics, then the playdate afterwards. How was I going to do all this? Have you noticed the common thread? ME ME ME! Oops. Mindful mommyness not at its best.

So as I try to get the dishes done and Kalev tugs on my shirt for some attention, I turn on Pandora (thank you Pandora and the iphone for amazing inventions!). And Kalev starts dancing. Kalev loves to dance. Anytime he hears music, he’ll start dancing. In the car he’ll move his hands and feet, in the baby carrier on our walks he bounces his upper body and beats the tune with his hand, he dances around his musical dog toy whenever he presses its paw to start the music, at Farmers Market last night he danced to the band on the grass with the sunlight shining down upon him, and every time I turn on Pandora he starts dancing in the kitchen. Awesome. My cranky, tired, teething little boy embraced the joy of dancing as soon as I turned the music on. As I laugh watching him, he comes over and grabs my hand. How could I resist? The dishes can wait. And I join his impromptu dance party. We are turning quickly around, our hands clasped, our feet stomping, shouting with laughter. That little hand in mine, not so little anymore when I think about what it was like for me to reach out to touch his hand a year ago. Now he reaches out to grab mine. And those fingers are so strong. The love I feel for him, the happiness I have that he wants to reach out and bring me into his world, his joy, is the most amazing feeling. And I feel so much better. What a blessing! We break apart to do our own moves; Kalev’s current one consists of both hands in the air, turning in circles, and kinda stomping his feet at the same time. He’s having a riot. It’s the best. And hearing his little giggles lightens up my whole cranky, exhausted, pessimistic mood.

After our little dance party, I finished the dishes, and now we’re outside. Kalev is playing at the water table, I’m finally writing on my blog, the dogs are chasing squirrels and the day is absolutely beautiful. I’m still tired and looking forward to my nap, but I am so happy Kalev can help me get out of my funks and into what’s important in life—being together.

My lesson from this morning: DANCE!

Do you have any tricks that you use when you’re tired and the day is just that much harder? I wish I could always remember these little tricks, stop freaking out about my to-do list, take a step back from that pessimistic edge, laugh a little, and realize how amazing everything is. Guess it's good I have my special little teacher. Thank you Kalev :-)

 Kalev dancing with Auntie Lynn at the family reunion last week

The Joy of Birdwatching

I’ve been meaning to write this post for three months, since the subject matter first became applicable. However, with the craziness of setting up my own practice, finding and meeting and working with clients, enjoying the joys of spring in Davis with an active toddler, working through my goal of reading all 209 Nora Roberts books, and just being a mom, the blog has of course sat on the backburner. Then today, as we were walking through the hallway to leave for our morning walk, Kalev pointed to our Ketubah (Jewish marriage contract). When I realized that what he was pointing to was the subject matter of the blog post I’d been writing in my head for months, I realized it must mean I better get on it. After all, a Ketubah is a symbol of promises, of love and marriage with your spouse, and a covenant with G-d. So it was an ah-ha moment, a sign, that it was time to sit down, table the work on the presentation, and write all about the joys of birdwatching, Kalev’s current favorite activity.

I’ve never really liked birds (sorry Byron, my avid birder friend). Their beady eyes, sharp beaks and the potential to poop on your head and your car gives me the creeps. So when Kalev started pointing and madly gesturing a few months ago I had no idea what he was so excited about. It took me a few walks, and some monkey screeches accompanied by aggressive pointing, to realize Kalev was spotting birds. Ok, fine, I’ll label the bird, give him the sign and continue on our walk. Nope, not enough. This boy fell seriously in LOVE with birds. My sweet boy who does not have much “big boy” language or signs, picked up the sign for bird within a few days. Wow. This quickly followed by saying his version of the word bird, something that sounds like “bahd-bahd,” but hey, this is huge progress. So I listened and got it: birds were important to Kalev, so they would be important to me.

We started stopping on our walks to watch the birds, to label them and practice the sign and the word. Our stops became more frequent and longer, not just to point and notice, but to really watch. And hey, birds are kinda cool. They hop, they stare at you, they peck, they make fun noises, they balance on teeny tiny telephone lines, they sit on tree branches, and they fly. And for a child, new to all things this world has to offer, all those things are the absolute coolest of cool. So I started to look at birds through Kalev’s eyes, away from my fear of getting pecked or pooped on. How something so small can make such delightful sounds, can follow your movements as you inch closer to them, then soar away, high high into the trees. And to watch them fly—wow, that’s pretty cool. Who doesn’t like the idea, or the dream, of flying? Of spreading your wings and soaring? So I started to get it. And we started to see birds everywhere. We see them on our walks, flying from tree to tree, sitting with their birdy friends, pecking at the ground. We saw a nest with a mommy bird flying to and from it on top of the Tutti Fruiti sign by the North Davis Nugget as we waited for Matt to bring out our morning hot chocolate and scone. That was neat. To talk to Kalev about a mommy bringing food for her babies, to see that mommy in action, and to hear the happy little chirps of the satisfied babies. So birdwatching is also a learning time for Kalev, a chance for me to teach him more about this world and for him to grasp some of that knowledge and understanding all by himself. Everyday Kalev points out the birds in his current favorite book, I Am a Little Lion, which we use when he’s on the potty. The joy he has in identifying the tiny drawn objects in the background of the pages is so delightful to watch and brings a jubilant mood that’s contagious. I was so surprised, and of course, proud, that my smart little boy could understand that the birds he saw flying outside could also be drawn in books. Yes, I know, duh!, of course kids get it, but it was the first time, other than doggies (and this boy is surrounded by all things doggies) that he made that connection and I loved it. Go birds! When we buy the dogs’ food at Petco we check out the birds there … and that’s a little sad. Those birds aren’t moving or flying or even pecking. They just sit there. Kalev was pretty confused and kept pointing and signing for bird. And I was like, yep, those are birds, but not like the ones you see on our walks. Ok enough depressing cage free thoughts.

As I have gotten wrapped up in Kalev’s passion for birds, I find myself scouting them out and rushing to point them out to him if he doesn’t notice them himself. “See that bird over there?” “Look at that bird flying!” “Kalev, there’s a bird!” I’m excited by it all, the joy of finding the birds, of watching what they do, and looking at my beautiful son as his smile transforms his face with the delight he has when he sees that bird. He is so excited and happy! This world is pretty amazing, and we are very very blessed to be part of it. It helps to have a child remind you of these things, especially the little ones that we take for granted, like birds. 

So what did Kalev point to at the bottom of our Ketubah this morning? A tiny bird, of course, one that I haven't thought about, despite the fact that I’ve looked at that Ketubah everyday in the last two and a half years Matt and I have been married. The Ketubah we chose is called the "Song of Songs," all about love and happiness and singing birds and nature. And I had forgotten! Now, every time I pass the symbol of my love and promises to my husband and to my G-d, I will think of the love and promises to my child, to be with him on his journey of discovery and the joy of finding delight in so many amazing things. Thus, I can thank Kalev for the new lessons of mindful parenting this whole birdwatching thing has taught me: kids see our world in new and totally cool ways that adults either don't know about or don't think about anymore, join them on that journey; discover what passions your child has, encourage them, learn about them, and have fun with them; and birds aren’t so bad.

Walking Meditations

In our childbirth class we used a walking meditation a few times as one of our formal mindfulness practices. When we met for our reunion I shared that mindful walking was one of the formal practices in which I continued to undertake, although I hadn't really thought of it as a formal meditation or mindfulness practice before then. At that time Kalev was about two months old and I was on maternity leave. I would put Kalev in the Baby Bjorn and take him and the dogs out for a walk through the park or on the greenbelt. I loved it. Now, over a year later, I still take my walks, although now I am much more aware that I view them as a type of formal mindfulness practice. It's a time for me to enjoy nature--the smells, the sights, and the sounds of it. I don't take a cell phone or an iPod--it's just my babies and me. And my thoughts. Sometimes those thoughts tick off things to do but mostly they are just noticing what's around me. And that's what my goal is for these walks. Just to be. And to be mindful of the blessing of the nature that surrounds us and my family that is accompanying me on these walks.

As I mentioned, I share these walks with my three babies. And that definitely enhances the experience. For the dogs, this is the highlight of their day. They are completely mindful of the experience and notice many more things than I would have noticed had I been walking by myself. They literally stop to smell the roses (and then pee on them of course!). Since I let them stop and sniff, at least most of the time, I stop too. My walk is not a rush to get from Point A to Point B. And sometimes when I try to make it that way, my dogs remind me to slow down and smell those roses. Look at how beautiful the plants are. That the leaves have changed colors or have fallen off the trees. Feel that sun on your face. Dogs are good teachers of mindfulness.

And of course Kalev accompanies me on these walks. He, too, is an amazing mindfulness teacher. All babies are--they live for the moment, for the joy of the experience. There are no to do lists for them, there aren't even clocks. They just enjoy the experience of the walk. Kalev makes my walks such an amazing mindfulness and bonding experience. I have never walked Kalev in a stroller. We've used a variety of baby carriers for our walks and around the house. If you're into that thing you call it baby wearing. It's a beautiful concept. It simply means that you carry your baby. For many parents who follow attachment parenting principles, it means you carry that baby a lot. And they thrive. You as a parent do too because there are so many incredible benefits to babywearing (here are some resources about baby wearing if you want to learn more: Dr. Sears’ on babywearing, BabywearingInternational, thebabywearer.com). Wearing Kalev has truly made my walking mindfulness practice a communal experience, which might seem to counteract the whole mindfulness thing. But, as I mentioned, him being part of my walk truly enhances my experience, and in turn, my practice. Right now I wear Kalev in an Ergo baby carrier. His chest is against mine. I can feel the heat of his body and love that our breaths can join together because we are that attuned to one another. Because his face is so close to mine I experience the walk through his eyes as well as my own. I see the delight in those eyes as we walk, just for the pure joy of being on a walk. I see the curiosity spark and his neck crane as we pass people, dogs, bicyclists and utility workers. What are they doing? There's so much of this world that he is still learning about and that I in turn get to relearn or rethink about when I am with him. There's excitement in those eyes as a squirrel climbs a tree. And there's happiness as he leans back in the carrier so that he can look up at the trees. That's my favorite--he loves to look at how the leaves rustle and how the light shines through those tree limbs. And I love to watch him laugh and smile and reach out with his tiny hands to try to touch those tall trees.

It's also a time of such sharing of love between us. Sometimes he rests his head against my chin or my chest. We can give each other Eskimo or real kisses. And sometimes he just reaches out to give me a squeeze. I absolutely love those squeezes. I squeeze him all the time. Because I just can't get enough of him. Guess he feels the same way :-) Sometimes we talk to each other or sing. And sometimes we are just quiet and just take it all in. There's no pressure, there's no outline, there's just us, nature, and being. It's great.

This morning we took our walk in a blanket of fog. Winter hasn't really hit northern California all that much this year. But this morning it felt wintry. Normally I don't like the cold but I enjoyed this walk in it. The fog makes you feel separate from other people, like you are just walking in your own hazy place. And the air was so heavy and wet, but smelled and tasted so clean when I breathed it in. I love the feeling of fresh, clean air. This walk made me think of others I have taken in the past before I thought of them as mindfulness experiences. This foggy morning walk especially made me think of Ireland and the many walks I took there, over rolling green hills, across rocky cliffs, through rain and in the sun, always breathing in air that felt so incredibly pure. I loved being in Ireland and realize now that many of the walks there I experienced with a sense of joy, peace, and lots of introspection: hence, mindfulness. 

 Cliffs of Moher, Ireland 2008

Another memory is Masada. Very different from lush green hills and heavy wet air. We woke up before dawn and watched the sun rise above the Israeli desert. As we climbed up that high high rock to the ruins, I sensed a different flavor in the air: the air there is holy, you just feel it and know it is. You are a bit in awe, especially as you look over the side of the rock to the ground so incredibly far below you. To be mindful there is very easy to do. 

 Masada, Israel 2005

There are also less exotic walks I have taken that I feel have put me into a more mindful frame of mind: walks along various beaches, under the giant trees in Big Trees, even my family's common one in the Davis arboretum. A chance to escape the bustle of life and just be. A great opportunity to teach your children the value of living in, loving, and caring for nature, as well as taking time to just allow yourself to think and feel as you walk. And a great experience to share with the many teachers that can show us how natural this practice (of course not a practice for them at all, but just a state of being) is, our babies and our dogs.

Do you ever find yourself taking those mindful walks? Do you consider unplugging enough to fully absorb the experience? Where have some of those walks taken you? And with whom have you shared them?

Little Bits of Magic Amid All That Barf

This past weekend Kalev and I got sicker than we have ever been before. It was awful. It is truly a horrible experience to have to watch your little baby so unhappy and so sick and unable to express himself or tell us what he needs to make him feel better. Matt and I didn’t get any sleep Friday night since Kalev threw up every hour—9 times in one night! And more in the morning :-( His cries echoed throughout the house and all we could do was hold him and try to comfort him. It sucked. We thought he got better once his fever broke at 4 am Sunday morning but then it just started coming out the other end. Eww. Very gross and very sad and very worrisome that our baby couldn’t keep anything down. And then, as we took him to Urgent Care to make sure he wasn’t too dehydrated, I realized I was now getting sick. I rarely get sick but when I do, I usually scale back, rest for a bit, and then feel better. Well not this time. This time my head was in the toilet most of Sunday night. Of course it was the night I was supposed to attend and help host a gala for hundreds of people in honor of our Rabbi. I definitely did not make that. And I couldn’t be a very good mommy to my sick boy either because I was so sick. So that really upset me. And I also couldn’t do what I normally did when I was sick: lay in bed, watch TV and sleep. Because now, as a mommy, I still had to be around to help when Kalev needed me, at least as much as I could. But through all this pain, through the nausea, through the annoyance, there were still a few little glimmers of thoughts, that then became little tokens of mindfulness magic as I reflected upon them after I started to feel better:

·   My cuddling baby: Kalev has started to hug us in the past month or so. Meaning, we can ask for a hug and he’ll give it to us or he will purposely crawl into our laps and give us a squeeze. It’s my favorite. Another absolute favorite is that he has started giving us kisses as well. His kisses are big, sloppy, slobbery open mouth presses over our noses. I have never seen him kiss any place other than our noses. It’s wet, but it’s delightful. So as this little boy felt so incredibly icky this weekend, he asked for lots of hugs. He would often be held by me, then look towards Matt and reach out a limp hand. I would transfer him to Matt for a squeeze, some kisses, maybe some swaying, then he would be ready to go back to me for some mommy time. As much as I hated how sick he was, how hot his feverish body felt, I loved that body curled so tightly against mine. That’s true love and I loved feeling it. 

·   My hand holder: When I started to get sick and could barely move from my back because any other movement upset my rolling tummy more, Matt held Kalev against his chest as he was putting him to sleep. Kalev reached out his hand so I could hold it. Oh my god it was so precious. This little tiny hand reaching for mine. I took that hand and squeezed it tight. I remembered what it was like when Kalev was a newborn and his itty bitty hand would encircle my finger. Now he did it with purpose and love, and with a desire for comfort. And I loved that he trusted me to be that comfort for him. And his love, his squeezes, comforted me as well.

·   My helpful husband: I was completely out of commission Sunday night so Matt had to take over mommy and daddy duty, as well as hold my hair as he played nursemaid to me. He did great. It feels as all we did this weekend was laundry, mop, and hold a sick baby. Then he had to do even more once I could only move from my bed to the bathroom. I am so thankful I have a husband who enjoys playing with his son, who was willing to run to Nugget to get Kalev Pedialite and me 7Up, and who would help position Kalev so I could nurse him without his weight on my belly. Who then stayed up late after the rest of us went to bed so he could finish the work he was supposed to do while he nursed us. A very thoughtful husband. 

·   The miracle of breastmilk: I am again so very thankful that I can breastfeed Kalev. He didn’t eat or drink anything the first few days but I was not overly worried because I knew so long as he was able to take in some breastmilk, he would get the nutrients he needed and would not be too dehydrated. It is such a great feeling to know that he would be ok. The other cool thing is that he’s now old enough that he can nurse in so many weird positions that it was totally fine that I couldn’t nurse him in the cradle hold that we usually use to nurse. I woke up from one of my delirious dozes to find him sprawled perpendicular to me alongside the top of the bed happily nursing away. He was happy, getting the nutrients he needed, and I had no pressure on my belly. As much of a win-win as we could get in this situation.

·   Adapting and Freeing Playtime: Since I couldn’t move from my bed and later, when Matt had to go to work on Monday, the couch, all my commitments for the weekend had to be cancelled. Now canceling things, especially things I paid a lot of money for and/or committed to helping with, stresses me out, but in this case there was nothing I could do. So Kalev and I had nothing to do but play. And that was kind of nice and freeing. Now, I couldn’t really play in the way I normally do, in fact, I lay on the couch huddled under my down comforter and watched him play, or received the toys he brought me, but it was still nice to realize that nothing else had to matter that day. My to-do list was gone. No grocery shopping, no dish washing, no laundry, my calendar was scratched off. It was just about me not barfing anymore and Kalev being ok. By Monday the barfing had stopped for Kalev and while his other end still wasn’t happy, he was happy enough to play. And I loved that he kept bringing me his toys, and was ok that I “played” by holding what he brought me and giving him quick hugs. I loved the freedom of just playing and resolved that we needed to do more of that—just have days for playing (of course, I’ll have to schedule them in, but still, it’s a move in the right direction).

This weekend was hard, but it’s good to know that there are still things to be grateful for and little bits of magic to see and be happy about, even when things are tough. Some things I am especially grateful for after this weekend: my baby, my husband, febreeze, hardwood floors, butt paste, a washer and dryer in our house, and an empty urgent care center in Davis.

I am surprised and proud of myself that I managed to remain mindful and be a mindful parent during this tough time. I know that I wasn’t successful the entire weekend, that I gave into my frustration, to my fear, to my disgust of having Kalev’s barf in my hair, but all in all, I think we did pretty well. I don’t wish another such weekend upon us, but I am happy that we can have our hugs, our wet nose kisses, and that we find so much comfort in each other.