Ok, here it goes, my life as a mommy:  take 2 (in a nutshelf…afterall, computer time is a luxury these days).  After a less than desirable pregnancy, I was taken off my medication and bed rest at 36 weeks and was fully convinced that after a walk around the block (ok, who am I kidding, a walk around Target) that I would be admitted to Columbia Center that evening, be blessed with a quick and painless labor and delivery, which of course I felt I fully deserved, and a few hours later, we would welcome happy healthy baby boy! Boy oh boy, my boy had different plans. The days passed, as did the weeks.  The aches and pains of doing nothing but watching TV for 3 ½ months caught up with me quickly, and as my husband so delicately put it, I was walking like a hunched over 90 year old carry a bowling ball.  As I continued my weekly appointments, my wonderful OB agreed to induce at 39 weeks.  Since my daughter came almost 3 weeks early, a complete surprise (including the part of her being a daughter), it was strangely unsettling knowing the exact day, date and gender of this little one. However, at this point we figured we had our share of surprises and were very excited about the anticipation of our pint size man making his appearance.  Fast forward to June 25^th, 2012…

Our big day was here, we arrived with open arms and smiling faces to Columbia Center, and as most moms can probably attest to, the wide range of emotions swirling through my head were giving me the same feel as the glass of wine I hadn’t visited in 9 months.  I have said it before, and I will say it again…the nurses at Columbia Center are AMAZING. If it wasn’t for the patience, understanding, sweetness and overall compassion of these wonderful women, I may still be pregnant today, defying all possible science.

The lovely ladies got to work, though, and hours passed, labor increased, 2 rounds of epidural were administered (apparently my body did not think the pain of labor was enough torture, so I was poked 6 times before the first epidural line was in…of which did not take and I was given more of the happy juice) and before we knew it, the doctor put on his catcher’s mitt and got in position. 15 minutes of pushing later, our sweet and not so tiny 8lb 3oz little monster was here, beautiful as can be.  After a long, scary pregnancy, I was finally holding baby Easton in my arms. I would like to say what most mommies do, that once you see your baby, all the troubles and complications disappear out of memory, but the truth is, I still to this day look at his little face and think of everything we both went through to get to where we are at this moment in time.

In this moment in time…life is grand. Big sister Aybree (AKA little momma) has filled her role like a total champ. Only a few days after coming home, daddy and I could have gone out to dinner and let Aybree babysit as she seriously has one up-ed us on numerous occasions on how to calm down her little brother.  Life is crazy, life is busy, life is messy, life is expensive…but life is grand. Every day is a learning experience, a life lesson and a reminder of how fortunate and lucky we are to have been blessed with such a beautiful family.  Daddy thinks we should eventually add to this blissful life…I say why mess with what is already so wonderful…only time will tell who will win this debate, but for now, life is grand.

Forts are inexpensive. It does not take make to create one—old blankets or sheets, maybe a few clothes pins, perhaps a dining room table to be a more durable roof. And they are magical. Any food eaten inside a fort seems tastier. Flashlights make reading a book more fun or playing with Legos more exciting. Pillows can go in, naps can happen. Everything seems amazing.

Be sure to make your fort big enough for a grown up or two to enter quasi-comfortably—-but do not assume you are allowed to go in unless invited. Sometimes our children want us in there and sometimes they really want to rule the Fort Kingdom themselves. Do not be offended if you are not welcome. Your children can only control so much in life and forts are a good place to begin.

You will probably sigh a few times as you maneuver around the fort to get from point A to point B in your daily life. It can be a little awkward to climb over carefully-laid blankets that are barely balancing staying in place. You may wonder when you will get your home back again—-a dining room that actually looks and feels like a dining room instead of a wayside campground for kids and Legos and pillows and who knows what else.

But in a few years, when your little ones are taller than you and will no longer fit into a fort let alone have any inclination to do so, you will notice that the dining room looks empty. And that your path from point A to point B never requires the acrobatics of Cirque du Soleil performer. You will sigh as you walk past the dining room table and wish with all your might that it was a fort again.

At 36 weeks, after having preterm contractions at 26 weeks, I was given the thumbs up to stop my medication and begin resuming activities…what sort of activities you may ask? Well, according to my doctor, I could have participated in a flash mob dance if I wanted….my husband was a little more reserved and suggested I start with something more along the lines of organizing some baby clothes and maybe walking to the end of the block and back. Little did I know that he had the right idea, as I was completely clueless as to how difficult the transition would be: an extremely sore, unexercised back, weak muscles, along with an major lack of energy, all results of doing absolutely nothing for 2 ½ months, proved to be quite the wake-up call, and suddenly caused concern as to how I will be able to deliver this baby.  Thankfully, I have been able to slowly regain some strength and energy through light exercise and stretching, but I certainly was not doing the victory dance I was hoping for.

My experience was just that: quite an experience, and if I may I will say just 3 things about it (I will keep it short to avoid the awkward “wrap it up” music.

1)      All joking aside, I have to thank my husband, who (although I didn’t think it was possible) made me fall in love with him even more after everything he did for me and our family during that time.  He is beyond words incredible, and undoubtedly the best husband and father I could ask for.  My amazing family and friends also deserve the upmost recognition for all their help and for keeping me sane when I was inching towards a rubber padded room.

2)      My time on bed rest made me a stronger person on many levels. Oh how humbling it was learning to ask for help when I typically avoid the idea, and having a semi type-A personality, it proved to be a very positive thing for me to accept the fact that things may not have gotten done when I would have liked them to, or in the manner in which I would have done them.

3)       And most importantly, after an extremely easy pregnancy with my daughter, I learned to value and appreciate smaller things, the little milestones, this time around. After struggling with the idea early on of sharing my time with another child, I was fortunate to have a wonderful bonding experience with this little boy, and feel a connection I was fearing would not surface.

So once again, this may not be a true Oscar party worthy accomplishment to many, and you certainly won’t catch me in a fitted Vera Wang gown anytime in the near future, but my journey certainly has made me feel like I won…and at 38 weeks along, with not much longer to go, I know my trophy will be much better than some silly little gold piece of metal.

It’s been a struggle for my husband and me to decide on the proper and correct way to approach our daughter’s “strong will and independence,” as we like to naively refer to it as. The teacher in me constantly leans towards the rainbows and butterflies approach, and wants to focus solely on positive reinforcement and praise:  “Oh Aybree, what a great job sitting like a big girl eating your dinner!” …even though 3 minutes earlier she chucked a piece of turkey at the dog. My husband, on the other hand, believes that consequences are a necessity, especially when a warning has been given, and there is no doubt that she knows what she’s doing is wrong. He will put her in a time out (which, even though it kills me to see, I know she deserves), and as she sits facing the wall she cries for mommy. It breaks my heart…and she knows it.  Don’t get me wrong, my husband is amazing with Aybree and praises her constantly for good behavior, jumping up and down, big hugs, stickers, the whole 9. And because of that, I figured it was time I tried his approach as well.

Bedtime has proved to be one of Aybree’s favorite times to test out her new role as sassy toddler.  We are consistent with our nightly routine: read a couple books, sing her a song, then she picks 2 puppies to sleep with (she has about 100 to choose from, and between those and her other animals we refer to her room at the Becker Family Zoo).  I always bragged about how great of a sleeper she is, when it’s time for bed she goes to bed. “I can count on one hand how many times in 2 years she’s gotten out of bed,” I would say. Carma, irony, jinxing myself…however you want to look at it, I guess I had it coming.  For the past few weeks we have encountered every know excuse in the book for coming out of her room. “I have to go potty!” Fine, you just went 4 minutes ago, but we are potty training, so we will let that one slide. “eh eh (picture the world’s worst fake cough)…I have a bad cough mommy, I need water so I don’t get sick.” Whatever, here’s your sip of water, even though I’m sure that will lead to another potty break in 15 minutes. “What’s that on my wall daddy, it’s scary, come here let’s go.” It’s the same light switch that has been there since you were born, go to bed Aybree.  My finger hurts right here, what’s that on my foot, we have to read this book, oops I never got my candy for going potty…and the list goes on. Finally, I decided to try the consequence approach.  When she came out of her room for the 9^th time one night I brought her back to her room, put her in her bed, and laid down the threat…”Aybree, you need to stay in bed. If you come out again mommy is going to take one of your puppies out of your bed.” She said, no no, those are my puppies, and at the same time gave me the “yeah right, mom, who are you kidding?” look.  No more than 3 minutes later she was out again, this time for a snack…my husband looked at me as if to say, “you have to do it,” so I walked back into her room with her and said, “I’m sorry honey, mommy has to take one of your puppies now.” And now picture the world’s worst mom coddling her child, trying for 15 minutes to get her to stop crying, and eventually giving her puppy back. Yep, I gave it back…but the new irony is that this sweet and sour approach actually worked. Since the horrific incident, she has only attempted to come out of her room twice, and a quick puppy threat has put her right back to bed.

I know I say this often, as I believe it holds true for so many scenarios when raising a child, but I don’t think there is a right or wrong approach when it comes to many aspects of parenting, including discipline and dealing with the terrible two’s. Each child is different, each parent is different, and each situation is different.  It’s a matter of trial and error (and don’t be concerned if there seem to be a lot of errors). No one ever said this job was going to be easy…not every job is as easy as that of a two year old.

A lot sure changes in a year. Parenting changes you. It teaches you patience. It teaches you how to truly multitask. It teaches you how to do things with one hand. There’s always all sorts of hype in the media, including the recent TIME magazine article, about how to parent, things you should do, and things you should not do. As far as I’m concerned, as long as you love your child, try your best, and never put them in harm’s way, you’re doing a good job. Congratulations.

I’ve been taking a meditation class but even meditation is not helping me to cool down on this one. TIME is claiming there is a battle in motherhood in America. Really?!?! Where have they been for, oh, I don’t know…forever? My oldest is 24 years old. Back then (and time eternal before) if you worked, you felt guilty for not being at home. If you were at home, you felt guilty for not working.  If you breastfed, people pushed formula on you. If you formula-fed you were beaten up for not breastfeeding. Shall I go on? The world’s oldest profession is not prostituion, it’s motherhood and guilt is the gift that society hands you as soon as you find out your’re pregnant.

The shameful thing is that TIME had a golden opportunity to open up a real dialog on parenting. Instead, they allowed the “sexier” “hotter” topics of breastfeeding beyond what the AAP recommends as being extreme to become one of the moving tagets. Extremism is the nasty monster under the bed. 

Feel the need to hold your baby rather than let him cry? Extreme! Want to eek every moment out of your time with your little one? Extreme! Feeling exhausted because you’re trying to juggle things? Extreme!

And to make matters worse, they hold  Dr. William Sears up as the evil mastermind of attachment parenting. He took a beating today that is beyond believable. Let me just say this: attachment is as old as human beings. TIME could have read the whole library wing on this topic but decided to blame the poor pediatrician for something that was never his to begin with.

Parents, ignore the smoke and mirrors that TIME and society are using to alter your sensibilities. Here is the truth: Parenting is unbelievably hard. It’s also unbelievably wonderful. And it would be much easier if editors, writers and the lady standing in line behind you at the market didn’t judge you so hard. But, they will. So the solution is to take a really deep breath and then smile. Because guess what: YOU“RE the parent. Which means this is your child to raise, to learn from, to teach, to cry over, to cherish, to cheer, to break your heart in a thousand and one little ways and then mend it again with one big, sloppy smile. If your persecutors want to step in and do it for you, tell them to come on in at 3 am when everyone except the baby is exhausted and take over. But I can promise you that not a one of them will.

As for me, I’ll not be buying an issue of TIME magazine again. If I want mindless chatter I’ll read something more worthwhile, like PEOPLE magazine.

HAPPY MOTHERS DAY!!!! You are doing a great job, whether anyone else acknowledges it or not. And I respect each and every decision you make as the mom. Now go give that sweet baby a hug

I am a happy 32 weeks along now, and nothing could have put a bigger smile on my face than my doctor giving me a congratulatory high five at my weekly appointment. That reassurance from him that this was milestone #1, and if, for some reason, my little one would make his appearance now, the chances of him being happy, healthy and thriving at this point are excellent (insert gigantic sigh of relief). Suddenly, the complaining and feeling sorry for myself for the last 6 weeks seemed petty, and the motivation and desire to push through till my next milestone (34 weeks) took full force. 6 weeks already down, what’s another 2 or 4…or even better another 6?! My ultimate goal, my biggest milestone, is 36 weeks, and I will be here on the couch dreaming about it, but regardless of when this baby boy comes, I know that we have made it this far and the light at the end of the tunnel is getting bigger by the day.

I believe that for an expectant mother, on bed rest or not, goals and milestones are wonderful. Even in the easiest of pregnancies it can be hard: the fun aches and pains, realizing you can’t paint your own toes anymore, the day where you make 2 stops at the fast food restaurant and wash everything down with a chocolate shake, then feel guilty afterward, or when you meet that lovely stranger who can’t help but say, “wow, you must be having twins, you’re huge!” I’m sure we have all been to the point where we just can’t wait for it to be over and hold our sweet baby in our arms. Having a goal or milestone to look forward to makes that day seem so much closer, and helps to realize that, even though we already know it, sometimes we need a little reassurance that it will all be worth it in the end. Maybe that “something” to look forward to is a weekly milestone, like myself, maybe it’s a baby shower, maybe it’s an ultrasound appointment… whatever the case, just keep pushing through and work towards it. Before you know it, this big day will be here, and there will be a whole new set of milestones to look forward to with your precious little baby.

I have mentioned before that my 2 year old daughter Aybree is quite verbal, in fact she has been referred to by many as my little mini me. She will say things that make us laugh because as sincere as she is about it, hearing certain words or phrases coming out of a toddler’s mouth is just hilarious.  The other day, as we were all sitting on the couch together reading a book, Aybree decided to grace us with her words of wisdom beyond her years once again.  She slowly slid off the couch, walked into the kitchen, and stood by the pantry.  It was then that she yelled, “daddy, can you come here for a second, I need a snack?”  For a moment I looked in to the kitchen and was fully expecting a teenager to be standing by the door, and at the same time had a flashback of holding my infant daughter in my arms wondering what life would be like when she was this age.

Again, I do realize that this wasn’t a milestone moment by any means, but it was my moment. The point in time where for just a split second I was praying that time would stand still because the thought of her getting any bigger was heart breaking. The moment passed, we laughed about her little comment, and of course daddy got up to get her a snack. But I still can’t help but to replay it in my mind.

I’m sure all parents have had their moments, a simple word, phrase, act or milestone that has brought about similar emotions. For me it is impossible not to think about the past and wonder about the future, but the here and now is such an amazing point in time. To see the little person my daughter is becoming is such a rewarding feeling, even on the days where she has obviously woken up on the wrong side of the toddler bed. I know the words are cliché, but if I can offer any advice to new mommies, it would be to enjoy every second because it goes by so fast.  Before you know it, your 16 year old toddler will be surprising you every day.

Need a good laugh? Check out this cute website about the silly things kids say and do!

www.funnythingsmykidssay.com