Inspired by Amanda over at Soulemama, I’ve chosen to spend Fridays taking the chance to record a single moment from the everyday around here. One moment that I just don’t want to forget.
What’s the first thing you’d do when your little one winds up covered in BBQ sauce? Me, well, I reached for the camera and then took him to the bath. Luckily we were having a naked day anyways.
After a few days of too much business and not enough fun, a few days of too many chores and not enough making, it was high time for Ewan and I to get out and get our creative groove on.
Homemade sidewalk paint, to the rescue!
A quick search online yielded a number of recipes which were all basically the same three ingredients – cornstarch, water, and color.
Most called for a 2:1 ratio of cornstarch to water, but I found that a bit thin. Instead I went for a 3:1 ratio.
Ingredients
Directions
After a short little introduction, Ewan jumped right in and got busy brushing and splattering and, ahem, pouring the paint all over the concrete.
The other children passing by, out for their morning walks, watched longingly. Long no more, mix up a batch and get out painting today!
Two weekends ago we had the chance to hang out with my grandma, Ewan’s great-grandma, Judy.
While out, eating brunch, Ewan showed off a number of his tricks. Saying “uh-oh.” Eating with a fork. And telling everyone, with his baby sign, how cold his ice water was. After.every.sip.
Judy was charmed, of course. And it was a nice moment, but it wasn’t until a few days later we realized how useful our short visit had been.
Fast forward a few days to her open-heart surgery. (things went well and she is recovering nicely) For a time after the surgery she had to keep the breathing tube in place which, obviously, impacted her ability to communicate.
Without the ability to talk she was frustrated, as anyone would be, with her inability to express her most basic needs or her level of pain. After a particularly frustrating interaction where the medical staff and family weren’t able to figure out what was causing her issue, Judy finally took her fists, balled them up, and shook them.
Without pause my mom (Ewan’s grandma), Sue, realized what she was doing. “You’re cold,” she exclaimed and with relief my grandma nodded.
My grandma was doing the very same sign that she had seen Ewan do only a handful of days prior. She was able, like Ewan, to communicate and get her needs met!
While I wish I had been there to witness the scene myself, I am so glad that the story got relayed. I’m so glad my grandma Judy had the chance to spend time not only admiring Ewan, but also learning from him.
I guess it’s just further proof. All the while we think, as adults, that we are the ones teaching the little ones, when really, it is often them teaching us.
In addition to all the summer lovin’ I was talking about last week, I have been a pretty busy lady.
While I haven’t been working or making a whole lot of the usual stuff; knitting needles have been sidelined, the sewing machine has sat idle, and the oven has been, sadly, empty. There has been a whole lot of making going on.
Making of the baby variety.
I’m nine and a half weeks along (edd – early march) and so far things are going so very well. So well that I was, kind of, doubting that I am really pregnant. So well that the days-without-puke vastly outnumber the days-with-puke.
So, now that this is all out in the open, I think I might be around here more. Perhaps there will be less to talk about of the crafting and making that you’re used to hearing about, but there will be more about the making of this very special little person. This little person that will turn our family of three into a family of four.
And, when this first-trimester fatigue lifts and I start doing a little more than sitting in the chair and staring into space (or napping), there might be a little making for this special little one. Oh, I just can’t resist making tiny little things for tiny little people!!
Inspired by Amanda over at Soulemama, I’ve chosen to spend Fridays taking the chance to record a single moment from the everyday around here. One moment that I just don’t want to forget.
There are so many things that I can do, so I shouldn’t lament the things that I can’t.
We have been lovin’ up this summer.
Writing on sidewalks.
Relaxing on porch swings.
Running around playgrounds.
The ever-present potential of a jaunt through the sprinkler has meant that my good camera has stayed home and, instead, I’ve been capturing snapshots with the iPhone.
When the heat gets the best of us, retreating into the air conditioning to do a little work in the kitchen.
Build forts.
Play with playdoh.
(Ours was too sticky, not sure where we went wrong)
See what baskets we can fit into.
The summer has seemed long and we have crammed it full of good adventures, but I can feel the end nearing. The days are getting noticeably shorter and I know it won’t be long before the heat of the summer dwindles and the sprinklers are turned off for the season.
We have a few more weeks to enjoy it, and that’s what I intend to do, enjoy every minute. Knowing that our time outside, this buh-bye season, is bound to end.
My posts may be a bit more sparse, as a result, but I hope that means you all will have more time out, enjoying this glorious summer as well.
Yesterday I wrote, and reminisced, about nursing my little man. My how it has changed since he was as wee as he was in those photos.
It has certainly changed. And, 13 days ago, we decided that it was time to change it even further. 13 days ago, we decided to change the game, introduce a new set of rules. Milk is for daytime, sleep is for nighttime.
This was an important change, a necessary change. One that, while he wasn’t terribly thrilled with at first, is truly best for our whole family. It is a change we’ve talked about and abandoned. Previously deciding that our little guy just wasn’t quite ready yet. Two weeks ago, it seemed like he was. And now, looking back at our choice to night wean and the sleep it has granted us, we know that it was the right time. He was ready.
Let’s recall, back in April in posted about sleep in our household. Or, more aptly, the lack of sleep in our household. Things were bleak. We weren’t resting. Ewan wasn’t resting. Well over a year into this gig and we were, rarely, getting a stretch longer than a few hours.
A week later I posted again. A tooth had, finally, broken and we were granted a bit of a reprieve. Well, that being the first tooth, the reprieve was short.
Over the next few months Ewan got five more teeth, for a grand total of six at the moment. His comfort, and our sleep, continued to be interrupted.
Nursing stopped being the solution, Ewan would no longer fall asleep at the breast.
He began to refuse the sling, as well. Arching his back and screaming when we would try to put him into what used to be a sure thing.
At 16 months we were out of ideas, out of tricks, seriously low on sleep after waking, on average, 2-4 times per night for close to six months. It was time for a change, for a new paradigm.
Just as we weren’t willing to let Ewan cry-it-out months ago, we still weren’t willing to do so now. But we also weren’t willing to continue on this path. We were all feeling the ill-effects of sleep deprivation. Weekends were being spent trying to catch-up on sleep, taking turns taking naps, rather than having fun family adventures. My afternoons were dragging, instead of enjoying Ewan’s naptime or using it to get something done, I found myself napping or, worse, just vegging on the couch. Something had to change.
We decided that, starting immediately, there would be two new nighttime rules:
1. No night nursing. At sixteen months, I was confident that Ewan could make it through the night without snacking. He is big, he’s been growing well. I knew I’d need to make more of an effort to tank him up through the day, but that is easy enough. Ewan nurses before bedtime, he is welcome to do so when he first wakes and joins us in our bed (which he now refuses), but then no more milk until morning.
2. No getting out of bed at night. No walking about in the sling. No rocking in the chair. Getting out of bed was, perhaps, contributing more to our problems than the night nursing. Settling Ewan in the sling, walking about until he was soundly asleep, and then lying him down took at least 20 minutes. By that time my husband, or I, were fully awake, mind wandering, and we had difficulty falling asleep. Now Ewan would be given comfort in bed; quiet songs, back rubs, anything at all, just no getting out.
The first night, I won’t lie, was tough. Of course it was. All of a sudden the rules had changed. Rules that Ewan had come to know during the course of his short life had changed completely. He did cry and protest (on-and-off for nearly three hours), but he didn’t cry-it-out. Aaron and I were there, the whole time, holding his hand, rubbing his back, telling him we loved him. Eventually, he tired, snuggled up, went back to sleep, and didn’t wake until morning.
Each night after that got a little bit easier. The second night there was only an hour or so of protest.
The third, maybe 30-45 minutes.
Last night, the 13th night, there was very little. We have successfully night-weaned and we are all getting more sleep.
We still co-sleep, most of the night, and he still wakes a whole lot. Now instead of nursing or needing to be slung or rocked, he seeks out a crook in our arm or crawls up and lies his head on the pillow beside us and, with minimal fuss, goes back to sleep.
Finally, after sixteen months of parenthood, we are getting rest. Our kid is, almost, sleeping through the night, and we are emerging from the thick fog that we lived in.
It is easy to wonder, should we have done this earlier, would we have gotten more rest if we gave this a try a few months ago. Maybe. Maybe not.
Honestly, I’m glad we waited until now. Waited until he was ready. As a sixteen month old toddler, I feel like he is in a place where he can understand that milk is for daytime and sleep is for nighttime. While he didn’t immediately agree to the new rules, I do believe he understood them, and, as a result, he was quick to accept them as well.
Thank goodness for that.
Tell me, when did you all night wean? How did the process go for you?
It’s hard to believe it’s been almost a year since I happened upon the Nursing is Normal, Madison project.
Almost 11 months since we had our photos taken.
Almost 10 months since I first saw, and was amazed by, the slideshow.
And now, today, look what landed in my inbox.
(All photos were taken by Lea Wolf. If you’d like to see more, check out the flickr set.)
It is hard to believe that he was, truly, that tiny. Less than a year ago. Really.
I’ve gotta say, these are shots that I will cherish. Forever. As soon as I saw them, it just brought it all back. All those memories and moments. Those uncertainties as a new mama. The trust you have to have when nursing. It all came flooding back and it was just as clear to me today as it was the day those photos were taken.
Now, as I nurse my toddler, seeing these photos reminded me how very different the experience is. How different, but how important, it has been for my boy through all the months of his life.
I’m not sure where our nursing relationship will go from here or how long the path will be, but I’m so very grateful that I’ve gotten the chance to nourish him, body and soul. 16 months, and counting.
Thank you Lea. Thank you for capturing those moments, thank you for sharing them with us. Thank you for the trip I took down memory lane today and that I’m sure I’ll take so many times in the future. It is, truly, a great gift.
You still there? Yeah? OK, good.
I’m sorry things have been so quiet around here. There’s been lots going on. Mostly, unfortunately, stuff that I can’t or don’t want to talk about here. That’s the nature of blogging, I suppose.
But I think I’ll be back this week.
I have stories to share. Happy, well-rested, night-weaned family stories to share. Fun adventures around the city stories to share. Cool, fun stuff to make stories to share. Soon. Very, very soon.
For now, let me distract you with a few pictures of an uber-cute babe (if I do say so myself) enjoying his very first chocolate chip cookie. For him it was an experience, a deeply gratifying multi-sensory experience. Watching him eat that cookie reminded me how good they are, freshly baked and warm, and how I should appreciate them on a much deeper level than I have been known to.
So there, my friends, go bake up some cookies and enjoy. Because, I have it on good authority, they are so worth the effort.
Welcome to the July Carnival of Natural Parenting: Let’s Talk About Food
This post was written for inclusion in the monthly Carnival of Natural Parenting hosted by Code Name: Mama and Hobo Mama. This month our participants have written about their struggles and successes with healthy eating. Please read to the end to find a list of links to the other carnival participants.
***
What you get out is only as good as what you put in.
I’m not sure where I first heard this phrase, and I’m virtually certain that when I heard it the person wasn’t talking specifically about our bodies or the food we put into them. Regardless of the intended subject, the message I took home stuck.
Our bodies work using the fuel we provide. Junk in, junk out.
This is the basic idea that guides the food choices I make for myself and for my family. It’s just a basic mindfulness that I carry with me as I walk the aisles, in-real-life or virtually, shopping for the food we eat.
To provide my body, and the body of my family, with optimum fuel we’ve developed a plan that works, though costs a bit more than some (including me) would like.
