Why have kids?

I took a little break from blogging to enjoy the last days of summer with my little one before ...gulp!... Kindergarten. We had some wonderful times and it was with wistful feelings that I let her go. She's doing great, though.

This is kind of long and maybe a little rambly, but just trying to sort out thoughts while fresh...

This week I read Why Have Kids? by Jessica Valenti, the "poster girl for third-wave feminism." And while I disagree with a lot of what's in the book, she's not wrong.

Why Have Kids is a bit of compendium of what's been going on in the momoshpere the past few years. Valenti's got Linda Hirshman, she's got Elisabeth Badinter (here too), she's got Erica Jong. She talks about attachment parenting, the anti-vaccination crowd, breast vs. bottle. In case you missed any of that. She references Babble, Blue Milk, Jennifer Block, Megan Francis, Katie Granju, Rikki Lake's Business of Being Born and even The Feminist Breeder.

What's just a little bit different about Valenti, though, and what makes her and the book so likable for me, even though her assertions go against my own experience, is she thinks what she thinks and expresses it, but is open enough to admit that other ways of doing things are understandable—which is kind of the place I've come to after five years of parenting. For example, Valenti calls Jennifer Block's book, Pushed, "wonderful," and sincerely was into breastfeeding, pursuing pumping valiantly as her preemie did time in the NICU. I was moved by her tenacity and totally get why she'd be mildly snide about lactivist rhetoric, even as much as I am a proponent—and huge fan—of breastfeeding. I have no idea what it's like for it to be hard to breastfeed and so I have to take Valenti's recounting of her experience for what she says.

It was bothersome, however, when Valenti attempted to minimize the benefits of breastfeeding a la Hannah Rosin, citing Joan Wolf. I can appreciate something being hard, something not working and a person making peace with it. Breastfeeding is not the be-all-and-end-all, of course. But don't be delusional and say things like formula is "just as...healthy a choice as breastfeeding." I often feed my kid breaded fish filets. They're easy and she likes them. But I don't think they are just as healthy as say, quinoa with kale, or something.

I also am conflicted about the idea that "Women Should Work," presented as a "truth" in Valenti's "lies" and "truth" structure of the book. Women should work if they want to (and of course, if they must). I don't like the idea of infants in daycare. I have a real problem with it, really. I understand, of course, that people do what they have to do. It's when they don't have to do it that it bothers me. Of course, I know it's not my business and I accept that. I would just never put a child under 2 (and that's the low end) in daycare unless it was absolutely necessary for the family's survival. At the same time, I don't like the idea of women who want to work having to give up an important part of who they are, not to mention some modicum of financial independence—just in case. I get it. I had the unique situation of being able to be really hands on 24/7 with my baby while doing satisfying work and earning enough to get by on my own (at least temporarily) in the unlikely even that we were left alone without my husband, and so I can't honestly be too hard on others for their choices (and besides, as I said, it's not my business). But, what I would push for is not necessarily affordable infant daycare (preschool, sure) but subsidized maternity leave, more part-time work/job sharing, more teleworking, an acceptance of bringing pre-crawlers into the office, and on-site daycare for older babies.

So I think in some ways here my views intersect with Valenti's but I'll never ever be gung-ho about daycare for infants. See, I disagree with another of Valenti's "lies," that "Children Need Their Parents." Most especially they need their mothers as infants and then, yes they do need their parents. The real idea behind Valenti's assertion is that kids need more than just their parents, I think. And of course I agree, for older kids. My daughter benefited greatly from going to preschool and being in the care of other adults for a few short hours a few days a week. Now she's doing well in Kindergarten (as much as we can know after a week). But really, I was the big influence in her life during these first most formative years and that's the way I like it. I've written before about how important a mother's influence is to a girl and how the nuclear family (another thing Valenti likes to point out is being phased out) establishing it's own sense of being a "tribe" is. This is not to the exclusion of others, this does not mean we don't have friends or are not part of a diverse community, but I think it's important to imprint on a child early on "who we are" as a family. I think it enables them to go out into the world and glean things from these "others" while remaining firm in who they are.

I liked when Valenti discussed the trope that motherhood is "the hardest job in the world" because I've always felt it's not a job at all, but a relationship. (I could have sworn I blogged about this before, but now can't find any reference to this idea, and someone else has ran with it, to much acclaim...) I don't expect pay and I can't be fired! My performance tends to fluctuate according to my mood and circumstances much more than my performance in the work I do professionally. It's just not even in the same realm as paid work, and I would never want it to be.

So, that's why I say I disagree with Valenti, but can see she's not wrong. Can anyone be wrong about this stuff? How we cobble together our lives is very personal and who among us doesn't create an a la carte life, picking and choosing elements of many paths and philosophies to fit what's best for us? It is her approachable voice and her openness to the idea that some stuff (breastfeeding, AP, staying home) may be OK for others, even though it wasn't for her, that brings such great balance to the book. She somehow manages to do it without seeming wishy-washy.

I'm coming from a different place, though. I guess I could call myself an essentialist. I fully embraced that, as a woman, with the baby having grown in my body, having come from within my body and having been fed solely from my body for the first 6 months, that I would be the primary when it comes to my kid. I fully expected this and I didn't have a problem with it at all philosophically and not much in practice, either.

Sure, there were many times I was tired and worn out from mothering an infant (then toddler, then preschooler—each age with its distinct challenges) but the deal was I'd stay home with her and do my consulting part-time and my husband would stay in his job and be the primary wage earner. I won't lie, there were times when the menial tasks, things like having to pick up toys all the time, got on my nerves. I really didn't like "playdates" til my kid was old enough to have a friend over sans mom and I could actually use that time to get things done. But I always felt like I was doing something important and right by being home with her for these earliest years. As our kid got older, my husband has taken on a more hands on, bigger role in parenting, but I'm still the primary when it comes down to it, and I think I will be til the day I die. He's a great dad. That's just the way it is for us. Sometimes I feel under-appreciated by my husband, who expresses a little envy at my getting to stay home all day for these early years (forgetting how I often stay up til 1 am getting client work done after having had to do kid stuff during the day). But, all in all, the years I spent at home with my young child were golden to me and now, on the edge of ramping back up job-wise with my kid in school full-time, I'm feeling nostalgic already...they went by really fast.

I suppose young women today can't be blamed for not being in touch with themselves as "natural" women (something feminists today seem to so hate the idea of). We live in a world where many of women's most natural characteristics and functions are reviled. There's no magic in menstruation, many women wax or shave themselves into nearly hairless fembots, it's no wonder many are put off by breastfeeding or find it gross. Eww! Female body fluids! Yuck! Very sad, actually, but I can't blame the young women, it's the culture they're raised in. To me, it's a failing of feminism that it is this way.

So, I don't personally get why so many women, as described by Valenti, seem so surprised at the work involved with—and discontented with the reality of—mothering a young child. And many of these are women who use daycare and don't even deal with said children all day long.

Maybe it's an age thing. At 40, I'm seven years older than Valenti and maybe older than many of her "ilk." I had my kid at 35 and had plenty of fun before that so I wasn't bent out of shape by the idea that I wouldn't be able to go out without the baby for a while if I was going to do full on breastfeeding, no pumping and that kind of thing. I really didn't want to "go out" for the evening at all during my kid's earliest days (OK, year...) It wasn't because I was depressed or a hermit or anything bad, it just wasn't where I was at at that time. I was into the baby.

Or, it could be my blue collar roots—I don't have the expectation that life should be easy and I pretty much thank my lucky stars every day that I have a white collar consulting job, as middling as it may be, it's not backbreaking and I enjoy it. And I am super thankful that I had the good fortune to be at home with my baby.

Who knows? Valenti describes a status quo wherein women are sold a bill of goods about how blissful it is to have a baby and then face the "truth" of how much it can suck. I mean we all have bad days, but yeah, lowered expectations, people!

For all the distancing of themselves from what felt (and feels) so natural to me (birth, breastfeeding, wanting to be with my small child most of the day) that many contemporary feminists seem to do—whether because they truly don't feel that pull, or because they have been well-taught to turn their backs on that pull in the name of the cause—I wonder why some of them do have kids at all, then.

Valenti argues that there is still a strong cultural expectation—assumption even—that a woman wants to, or will, have children. This is somewhat surprising to me in this day and age and I am prone to disbelief, but again, since I'm a woman with a child, I feel somewhat unqualified to tell other people what they feel who claim to experience this pressure. But, if you're a strong feminist who doesn't want kids, you won't cave to the pressure, right? Maybe again, some people just don't know what they're getting into, I suppose and just go for it. That's kind of what I did and it worked out.

I have to say I didn't think deeply about it before going forward with having a baby. I had kind of given up on even getting married to some extent right before I met my husband. I wasn't at desperation age yet (only 29) so I can't say for sure, but I think I was actually OK with not getting married anyway. I was kind of just floating through life, trying to earn a living, have a good time and that was that. If I met someone, great! And I did. And it turned out we talked about it while dating and he wanted kids, well, one kid, anyway,  was what he said, and I was like, sure, fine, whatever. That's what some people did, right? They got married and had a kid, or kids. So, why not me? Do I sound really vacant or stupid for putting it that way? Maybe. But I bet lots of people are that way.

In the same way I didn't think deeply about whether to have a baby, I didn't have an idea of being the "perfect mother" that seems to be a big theme for discussion (Valenti cites Judith Warner's book, Perfect Madness). We hear so much about all the pressure moms are under to be "perfect," but really, is that pressure truly there? How much of that is put on people by themselves because of an initial amount of hubris to even think in the first place that achieving perfection is possible? We see "perfect" women, actresses, supermodels, on TV and in the movies and yet most of us have come to terms that we just need to do the best we can to stay healthy and that those people are professionals and or anomalies. So why can't we understand that perfection in a relationship (remember, being a mother is a relationship, not a job) is an unattainable—and vague—goal? Some feminists argue a deep-seated, almost conspiratorial agenda is in place to keep women down by playing with their minds to focus them on this perfection in parenting, but I just don't know. Aren't we all smarter than that by now?

My favorite line in Why Have Kids? was: "The truth about parenting is that the reality of our lives needs to be enough." And, of course, this is right on. Only when you embrace the imperfection can you begin to appreciate the tender beauty of parenting. And we all have different realities, it seems.

 

A little help, please? Oh...nevermind.

After reading The Conflict and at my early parsing of TIME's attack on attachment parenting, I felt like I'd seriously turned the corner on thinking the U.S. should do more to support families. The TIME article seemed to me to be shameful deflection (strategic?) from the need for Americans to push for the first-world support other industrialized nations have for families, and I was particularly inspired by Chris Hayes speaking about this on his show.

But, I am uncertain again. While I could get over the fact that most of the mainstream commentary I've read reflects complete cluelessness of the fact that their corporate/capitalist task masters delight at them squabbling over how long to breastfeed and denigrating the value and importance of parenting in favor of work, work, work for the machine, I can't get over some people's willful ignorance and denial—even to the point of criticizing and turning away those who would help them, as illustrated by Whoopi Goldberg's comments on The View which were echoed by Elizabeth Hasselbeck. They griped about an initiative put forth in New York to support breastfeeding in hospitals, with Hasselbeck particularly complaining about being woken by lactation consultants reminder her she needed to breastfeed. Well, sorry, honey, you do have to feed them at least every two hours, there's really no way around it, except, uhm...formula. So that's why you want the formula because you can't be bothered to feed your infant in the middle of the night? You don't want to be bothered?

Indeed, on a recent New York Times Motherlode blog post, commenters reacted to the question of whether Americans really do want to encourage breastfeeding. One "Ivy League-educated, white collar professional who votes Democrat" located in DC said, "Honestly, I have absolutely no desire whatsoever to breastfeed my future children...I don't want to be chained to them and I want my partner to have the chance to bond with them as much as I do. I just wish it were more socially acceptable to say so." Willful ignorance. Even from the supposedly educated. What can you do?

I commented also, observing that I don't think Americans really do want to encourage breastfeeding. Every time I have a discussion with someone outside of an immediate circle of people I know breastfed (like from my natural birth class, etc.) it devolves into countless tales of how they wanted to so badly and yet couldn't and how they are tired of hearing about it and being made to feel guilty. It's as thought they can't understand the difference between appropriate education and public health messages versus their own personal experiences, and they refuse to hear, even in a very non-confrontational and abstract way, that there were things that could have been done differently that might have helped them succeed. These things aren't said to make them feel bad, but to demonstrate that it wasn't their fault and that women do need more education and support—and still they are angry and don't want to hear it. Then, we have voices like Goldberg and Hasselbeck slamming breastfeeding support initiatives. I am beginning to think people don't care and don't want help. Kind of like obesity...people are willfully ignorant and undisciplined. I can't imagine how breastfeeding advocates go on with the hopeless American public. What's troubling, though, is having a desire to move toward a national healthcare program, because it's the right thing to do and being disgusted at all the cost savings and health benefits lost that could be had if more women were committed to breastfeeding.

In a Facebook discussion with a mom-blogger "friend" I tried to cool the escalation concerning the TIME cover by noting the Chris Hayes story on helping out parents, you know, why can't we all get along and work together to get parents the support they need...only to have her say, "I totally agree. There are more pressing issues that should be delved into than the breastfeeding debate. But two words I feel should never be uttered in the same sentence are ‘politics’ and ‘parenting’ [emphasis mine]. Especially when certain figures are spouting off in books about something they have no idea. Take a step down and see what real middle-class parents go through, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. No nannies, no cushy bank account, no advisers whispering in their ear or ghostwriters on the payroll." OK, OK, I get the anti-Ann Romney dig, but, how are we supposed to make change if we can't talk about parenting and politics together? Duh.

Children can't really speak up for themselves. It's up to us to do it and these people don't even want to do that? They'd rather just kvetch about how hard parenting is and how much they can't wait for "wine o'clock" and love to drink and swear! Oooh, you are so bad! YAWN.

So, people need help, but they don't want help. Or they want help in the form of free childcare, but don't bother them about breastfeeding? I don't get it.

It could easily be argued that supporting parents is the right thing to do and that things like protected jobs, subsidized parental leave, enhanced laws supporting breastfeeding and such are good for society overall because well-tended-to infants and children grow into better citizens. Although, not everyone thinks so, and people can't even really agree on what infants and small children need, even with humans having had a model for thousands of years, the expectations of which are coded into a baby's instinct—and into mothers if they aren't completely damaged or brainwashed by modern society.

Another commenter on the Motherlode post about Americans' view on breastfeeding noted of state supported benefits for new parents "...these are costly social policies. And they make sense for Sweden and France, because they have relatively low populations that are aging—low birth rates!—and they want desperately to ENCOURAGE people to have children. In the US, we have a huge population—overpopulation!—and huge immigration (much of it illegal)—and the last thing we need is "more babies." We have way, WAY too many babies as it is. Our policies reflect OUR reality—that we wish to (mildly) discourage childbearing, or at least keep it to one or two children per family." And, that, too resonated with me from a strictly short-term, pragmatic perspective.

As for me, I feel fortunate to have had the time to plan for a child and, with my husband, take matters into our own hands to give her the early childhood we wanted her to have, and that we think is important.

I read a really fascinating review of The Conflict just this morning that touches on an aspect of it I had not yet explored. One part of the review riffs on a 1980 article in which social critic Robert Crawford used the term “healthism” to refer to a new preoccupation of the middle class with personal health and wholesome lifestyles, drawing a connection between healthism and political disengagement. This is done as a parallel to the "naturalist parenting" (or attachment parenting) philosophy that The Conflict is critiquing. The review noted, "A sense of impotence—'I can’t change the world, but at least I can change myself,' as Crawford put it—fed the mania for vitamins, exercise, herbal supplements. And in turn, as people poured more energy into their own health, they had less time and inclination to invest in civic or political involvement. Since 1980 this outlook does not seem to have abated, to say the least, and for parents it applies doubly to their children. In shaping contemporary parenthood, this retreat to the private sphere has been at least as important as a retreat to nature."

And after reading that, the notion of "the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world," however patronizing this can sometimes sound, came to mind. Although I think the reviewer might not be on board with this "retreat" into what we can control (more of a refocus, I would say), I do feel somewhat politically disengaged—and confused by my fellow countrymen and women about what the heck they want for their own children anyway. So why wouldn't I retreat (refocus) and just bolster my own child in the way I see fit? I don't feel a connection with many other Americans about raising children based on the majority of comments about attachment parenting and such, and these people don't seem to really want help, so, what can one do but strike out on their own?

The icing on the crappy store-bought, hydrogenated oil and corn syrup laden cake was an article in Mother Jones today (by a man) completely politicizing breastfeeding in the cheapest way, using a false support of this basic human function as a way to slam Mitt Romney. Again, I'm not exactly a Romney fan, but this is garbage.

So, I would tell women who are looking to breastfeed and otherwise parent on the continuum as much as possible—mamas, you are on your own. You and your, hopefully, conscious, enlightened and supportive husband. You're not going to get anything of value from this American society for a damn long time, if ever.

So, what did TIME have in mind?

As a mother and a graphic designer/visual artist, I was very interested in the controversial TIME magazine cover highlighting its feature on Dr. William Sears and the the philosophy he espouses—attachment parenting.

After my initial personal reaction, I thought I'd discuss the chosen cover image and its effectiveness from a communications standpoint.

First, the chosen cover:


Do you think TIME is aiming to portray what this mother is doing as good, or even normal?

Does the child look OK? Is he comfortable, relaxed, happy? (It should be noted that this is an actual mother and child, they are not models, and she actually does still breastfeed him. He is 3.)

In my view, the answers to all of these questions are NO.

The woman’s pose is somewhat defiant, though her stare is one of relative equanimity.

The child has to stand on a chair to reach her, rather than her coming to the child’s level.

Now, a contrasting cover shot that didn’t make the cut:


The child is in arms, eyes closed and the mother is seated.

She is non-combative, still with the look of calm on her face, but with her head tilted toward the child and her arms cradling him. He is in his own, peaceful, private world, unaware of the camera.

In spite of the child’s size, it’s far less jarring than the first photo. It probably still would have raised eyebrows in a culture where most don’t breastfeed past 6–12 months, but not as much as the chosen image.

My thoughts on the imagery and the public reaction:

In reading lots and lots of online comments on the cover—from people who did read the article, but mostly people who apparently did not read it (they didn’t know the mom and son were real, for example)—I found a range of reactions but they generally fell into some main categories.

Skeeved out

Many, many of the commenters felt this image of a preschool-age child breastfeeding was “gross, sick, repulsive and perverted” and expounded with comments accusing the mother of exploiting the child, saying that he is going to be made fun of when he’s older, saying this is going to make him “go gay,” and so on. Even as a proponent of breastfeeding for as long as is mutually agreeable to mother and child, I can understand how the average joe or jane citizen might find the image at least a little bit off-putting simply because the majority of Americans think breastfeeding is something for infants only and it’s not something they’re used to seeing. Still, I found many of the negative reactions to be needlessly angry and hostile. The jokes at the child’s expense were not funny to me

Pissed off, type A

Another sizable crop of reactions were defensive, likely focusing on the headline, “Are You Mom Enough?” Many women were offended by what they viewed as yet another endorsement of breastfeeding being pushed on them. The über-popular blogger Scary Mommy mocked up the cover expressing this, and her followers on Facebook mostly rallied in agreement. This is an interpretation I didn’t quite understand, admittedly not only because my own experience puts me in a very pro-breastfeeding place, but also because to me it seemed clear that TIME was not trying to present the practice depicted as something necessarily positive. The “Are You Mom Enough?” headline seemed to me to be sarcastic and when coupled with the assertion that “…attachment parenting drives some mothers to extremes…” it is made clearer that TIME was looking at this style of parenting with a critical eye, certainly not endorsing it wholesale (if at all).

Along with this sort of defensiveness, though to a lesser extent, was another, more predictable sort, complaining about the woman’s attractiveness and that she could not possibly be a breastfeeding mother and look like this. I’d say this might have been another strategy choice by TIME to inflict just a little pang of jealously among women, for not only are they competing in the area of “good mothering” but also in “hotness.”

Pissed off, type B

A smaller handful, mostly attachment parenting supporters, felt the cover was sensationalist for their own reasons: it not being representative of the reality of extended breastfeeding—which is usually considered to be breastfeeding for more than one year, but is not usually done quite so…shall we say…flagrantly as is depicted in the cover cover image. Indeed, one of the critical comments from a non-supporter of this kind of parenting snidely questioned whether this mom would pull her son aside for some breast milk after soccer practice if orange wedges weren’t good enough. Realistically, most people who breastfeed, still, at these older ages do it perhaps once or twice a day for bed time or quiet time alone at home.

Also the singular focus on breastfeeding for an article that was supposed to explore attachment parenting overall (of which breastfeeding is an important part, but only one of eight tenets) was puzzling to those who understand AP. This picture didn’t capture the spirit of attachment parenting that parents who practice identify with—mostly that it is very child-centered. (I think most people familiar with and supportive of attachment parenting would have preferred the second photo I show above.) Overall, it seemed to offend attachment parent proponents, though I did see one (and there could likely be more, but this is definitely a minority view) commenter that thought the cover was great in its defiance and her look of just daring someone to give her shit about how she chooses to raise her child.

Generally pissed off and fed up

Perhaps the most common response of all among those identifying as mothers was disgust at a media outlet once again “pitting women against each other” or “fueling the mommy wars.” These comments were often tagged on to those expressed by the previous A and B “pissed” versions, encompassing a range of secondary views on the matter, but generally saying “leave moms alone,” “we’ve had enough” and “we won’t play this game!”

Consensus?

So, what message did the cover convey? TIME skeeved out and pissed off a lot of people!

Obviously, it meant different things to different people—as images often do. But in this case, the meanings seemed particularly disparate.

If TIME sought to critique attachment parenting harshly, I would say it was somewhat effective conveying this with the cover, but not entirely. Many—moms especially—missed that point and were put on the defensive, thinking the question was straightforward and assuming they weren’t “Mom Enough” according to whatever this standard TIME was reporting on was.

If TIME was aiming to bring forth a better understanding of attachment parenting, the cover image was a huge fail, because it’s depicting something with many nuances in an extreme manner. It could be argued that TIME was trying to show one facet of attachment parenting—the so-called extremist—but I’m not sure that its audience is well-versed enough in the subtleties to actually understand that.

Some people chided TIME as a cheap rag scrambling for relevancy that has pulled stunts like this before, with a history of being provocative (Hitler as Man of the Year, 1938). Others reluctantly cheered its business savvy and marketing brilliance for stirring the pot and creating controversy to push sales, regardless of the quality of journalistic integrity.

I suppose it matters what your metric is—sales or clear messaging that gets your point across. Not knowing TIME’s aim (though I have my own suspicions) it’s not clear whether its message was conveyed, but if I had to call it, I’d say it’s a win in the attention grabbing/sales side but a lose in the clear messaging side—that much seems obvious.

When normal becomes notable

This week's issue of TIME magazine with its crazy, sensationalist cover of a camo-clad preschooler at the breast, features articles on "attachment parenting" and Dr. William Sears, who they say "has made parenthood more physically and emotionally demanding than ever before." (Great commentary about the visuals on KellyNaturally.com.)

Interesting, but my personal experience was that it was just not all that demanding to breastfeed, carry my baby around or hold her most of the day and sleep with her (what they're describing as 3 tenets of this philosophy—there are 8, actually...). In fact, to me, these things were very simply easier than the alternatives. That these practices are somehow new or revolutionary, or  in need of a scientific basis—some proof of their safety, benefit or efficacy—seems silly to me, also. These are things that human beings naturally do, instinctively, I believe, when they are in touch with their primal humanity and they have the liberty to do so.

Instead of positioning attachment parenting as a "thing," a philosophy with adherents and such, we should recognize it for what it is: normal human parenting. And we should recognize other practices for what they are: accommodating other things—be it parental preferences, corporate/capitalist culture, whatever. I won't even pass judgment and say there's anything wrong with such accommodations. But, let's not paint the normal human way to be as some new-fangled, cultish, out-there hippie trend with a Dr. as the "leader." It's how humans have lived for millennia.

I'm currently reading The Continuum Concept and learned from the TIME Sears feature that one of his early books was based on his reading of this book. It's a rather un-scientific book. There are no references. It's mostly the reflections of a writer, Jean Liedloff, who spent some time living with Stone Age Indians in the South American jungle. But it is very compelling. The book tells of revelations that led her to form a radically different view of what human nature really is, and challenged her Western, industrial preconceptions of how we should live—much of it dealing with how babies and children are handled (literally, handled, as in held in hands and in arms).

In her book, Liedloff observes of the treatment of infants in Western culture that "Babies have, indeed, become a sort of enemy to be vanquished by the mother. Crying must be ignored so as to show the baby who is boss, and a basic premise in the relationship is that every effort should be made to force the baby to conform to the mother's wishes. Displeasure, disapproval, or some other sign of withdrawal of love is shown when the baby's behavior causes 'work,' 'wastes' time, or is otherwise deemed inconvenient. The notion is that catering to the desires of a baby will 'spoil' him and going counter to them will serve to tame, or socialize, him. In reality the opposite effect is obtained in either case."

She explains that humans are evolutionarily programmed for certain expectations, noting that for millions of years newborn babies have been held close to their mothers from the moment of birth and that just because in recent history we've taken this to be optional (or inconvenient), doesn't change the millions of years of programming.

"The period immediately following birth is the most impressive part of life outside the mother's body. What a baby encounters is what he feels the nature of life to be....

...he has come prepared for the great leap from the womb to his place in arms...

What he has not come prepared for is a greater leap of any sort, let alone a leap into nothingness, non-life, a basket with cloth in it, or a plastic box without motion, sound, odor or the feel of life. The violent tearing apart of the mother-child continuum, so strongly established during the phases that took place in the womb may understandably result in depression for the mother, as well as agony for the infant.

Every nerve ending under his newly exposed skin craves the expected embrace, all his being, the character of all he is, leads to his being held in arms."

The TIME article says "Some parents subscribe to [Dr. Sears'] theory that attachment parenting...is the best way to raise confident, secure children. Others think Sears is an anti-feminist tyrant, or that his ideas are just totally unrealistic."But my experience (and those of other mothers I know) was that I really just did what came naturally to me in the early days, weeks and months of motherhood and it just happened to be in line with this stuff. The thing is, it worked. My child was healthy, she ate well and grew and grew. She slept well, curled up with me, and we were very close. Still are. And for me, of course, it was an adjustment, having a baby, but I never felt particularly sleep deprived (thanks to co-sleeping) and was relatively calm, thanks to the hormone flow and baby bonding.

Now, don't take this to be an implication that people who may not have done these things do not have healthy children or are not close to them—this seems to be a common response. I am only sharing my experience. I will observe, though, that I have seen many complaints of sleeplessness, frequent wakings and such, and about how difficult life with an infant is, among those who don't likely understand instinctual human parenting, and it seems they're having a harder time of it than I did.

In The Conflict, Elisabeth Badinter cites anthropologist Sarah Hrdy's work on maternal instinct. Badinter seeks to make some negative point about the tyranny of breastfeeding, but instead reveals the powerful chemical bonding that occurs between a mother and child during the earliest days of breastfeeding. Hrdy speaks of a "cascade of physiological consequences in the mother, suffusing her body with a sense of wellbeing...within moments of nursing the mother's cortisol levels subside; oxytocin courses through her veins. As if she were getting a masage, the mother's blood pressure drops, oxytocin suffuses her in a beatific calm...the mother is endocrinologically, sensually and neurologically transformed...it will be a long time before she is again emotionally and physiologically so at liberty to cut bait..." If a mother doesn't experience that, or is too weighed down by baggage about the  difficulties of breastfeeding or how it might be interfering with other (arguably less important) aspects of her life, she is not going to reap those same benefits as the mother who can get high on it, let go and float in that magical place of being with her child in such a special way.

None of this means that people who don't do these things aren't necessarily loving parents or aren't close to their children. It's just a vastly different experience. And many who haven't had that experience become very defensive when discussing it, and it seems they just don't get it. If you don't do the instinctual things, it's likely you wouldn't understand them. You're just not operating in that way on these kinds of things.

I've seen comments already from people regarding the TIME story that focus on defensive cries about how they tried to breastfeed and it didn't work and it reflects such a massive lack of understanding about breastfeeding, both culturally and biologically. For those who might stumble upon this blog and may be in search of quality information on the mechanics of breastfeeding, I highly recommend kellymom.com and for less on the mechanics, but more on social and cutlural matters, Ph.D. in Parenting has a lot to offer on this issue (and others).
I think it's odd that we've come to a place where what's normal has become something of note. In the way TIME—and mainstream folk in general nowadays—seem to consider Dr. Sears' advice and the "attachment parenting" movement, or philosophy, some extreme departure from sanity. I personally don't like to say I follow AP, really, because I don't think of my parenting as something from a book. Sure, I have learned things from books and books are great for reference, but the basics of eating, sleeping and being close, well, you shouldn't need a book to confirm those things. That we do says something about how far we as a society have drifted off the course. "Attachment parenting," if we must call it something, shouldn't need  explaining—it's the cribs, baby buckets and bottles that do.

On this 'Conflict' thing

My husband is great. He brought home this Marie Claire article (ripped from a gym mag) because he knew it would be right up my alley. I hadn't talked with him about the Badinter book which asserts that certain aspects of motherhood are oppressive and lower the status of women, but he knows how I feel about this stuff. I won't bother discussing too much of the overarching concepts, it's been done, and done well, already. One of the best discussions I've seen has been between Katie Allison Granju (of whom I'm not exactly a fan, but somewhat indifferent) and the notorious (to me) Hannah Rosin on Slate (it's a six-part thing, as of now). I'm just going to ramble a little about my personal thoughts and feelings on this thing.

I just have to say, I really, really don't care what other people do. I might used to have an axe to grind, but I am over that now. There have got to be little minor sparks of light that make people different and these things can just be more of those. What I do care about is when people sniff and snuff at the things I choose to do that are actually quite normal and suggest I am oppressed or brainwashed. I'm not. And I am certainly put off by the idea that as an "educated" woman, I have a responsibility to all of womankind to express my privilege and "liberation" in the manner prescribed by the leading feminist voices of the time, so as not to, you know, lower the status of women. Sorry, I'm more interested in the status of my daughter. Call me selfish.

I didn't even know about "attachment parenting" (AP) or that the things I would do quite naturally out of the box as a new mother were part of a philosophy. I did them mostly because they seemed like obvious choices (to me) and were easy (for me). Or, easier than the alternatives. (I recall a quick past post, Crunchy by Convenience...) Using formula and not being able to breastfeed just never even occurred to me. I don't remember my mom breastfeeding, though I know she did. I remember giving a baby I babysat bottles, but I guess I was kind of clueless about the formula versus breastmilk thing. I hate having to have a bunch of very specific supplies for things (I use wine bottle as a rolling pin and have minimal kitchen gadgets, for example, I like running because all you need is shoes, you get the idea) and I hate cleaning, so bottles, for me, would have been a nightmare. Easier to just whip out my breast as needed! It was no problem having to be with the baby all the time because I wanted to be with the baby all the time. I'd gone out partying for, like, at least 15 years before having a baby at 35, so I wasn't really itching for that. I was, you know, a grown up with a baby!

As far as co-sleeping, quite frankly, it was the best way I could actually get sleep while my kid was a baby and it rolled into an arrangement I'm quite comfortable with still to this day. I lay down with her and read my Kindle (or pass out) while I cuddle her and she falls asleep. Then after a while I break out and enjoy the rest of my night, if I'm not too tired. She can go to sleep on her own, of course, it comes with some argument when it must happen, because who wouldn't prefer to be cuddled to sleep? Oh right...my husband! Which is why not sleeping in bed with him when I don't feel like it doesn't matter. Sex and sleep are two very different things, which many co-sleeping critics just can't seem to get their heads around. And they must be very unimaginative. 

This is one of Badinter's gripes, that co-sleeping and such creates a rift between husband and wife. It doesn't have to, though. After skimming the article and homing in on Badinter's emphasis on the importance of not letting sex fall to the wayside after becoming a mother, I asked my husband if he thought breastfeeding and co-sleeping, or having a kid in general has affected our sex life. He said, "Well it's more vanilla..." I argued that the frequency was about the same (and better than most from statistics I read) and that I am not willing to pay a babysitter for us to go "swing" (haha). So we'll have to be like those 60-year-olds we saw on our honeymoon when we went to Cap D'Adge. But, I digress, quite frankly, it's not the childcare that saps my sex drive, its the vicissitudes of life and my own head. Nothing about the logistics of where people sleep.

And, more about husbands and AP. All I have seen from the culture, now that I am aware of it, has been really involved dads who babywear, et cetera, and are on-board with it all. My personal take is that early infancy is largely the domain of the mom, and for me there was little escaping that and I didn't want to. As my child started getting older, though, and certainly now, my husband plays a huge role, especially for someone who works full time outside of the home. He often spends whole Saturday afternoons with her while I read or do some other stuff I want to do and have "me" time.

As far as diapering, I did use disposable for about 9 months. I felt like I didn't want to be bothered with diapers til I had the mothering thing down. Then my baby got so deliciously fat from all the breastmilk she was drinking around the clock that the disposables didn't fit her chubby little legs right so I explored cloth and fell in love with the cute styles and that was it. It was no big deal to wash them either. Really, no big deal. 

I could go into the same boring details about making my own baby food. I mean, why shouldn't babies, when they're ready to eat, just eat mashed up versions of real food anyway? And how hard is it to mash up an avocado, a banana or a baked sweet potato? Uhm, not hard.

When it was time for my maternity leave to be over (16 weeks where I live, which I funded through acquired sick leave over the course of my 7 years with the organization), I decided she was too precious and I couldn't leave her. Thus began my lovely now nearly 5-year sabbatical from full-time office drudgery, including the hour commute, and my foray into independent consulting. I fear (fear is not the right word, but am not exactly chomping at the bit to...) going back to the grind one day, actually, as inevitable as it seems as my kid gets older and goes on her way through school.

So, I don't get the oppression. It's "oppressive" to have to work for a living, but most adults accept that.

My part-time hobby has been hate-reading (I've really got to stop, but...) and so I would actually love to read The Conflict, but I refuse to give this bitch any of my money, and it doesn't appear to be in the library system, yet. I've purchased other books of people I don't particularly care for, but I can't do it for this one. As Granju points out in her Slate posts, Badinter is a billionaire executive of a PR company representing some of the biggest formula interests out there. And while I am not as much a formula/big business hater as some, I do think they push the envelope when it comes to being the ones who truly pressure women, so it is more than a little disingenuous for Badinter to come out with these high-minded views about pressure on mothers today.

It seems to me the AP contingent is pretty limited and it's still looked on as "funny" (or quaint, or "isn't she a cute little hippie) to do a lot of the things we do, like extended breastfeeding especially and the co-sleeping. So I would hardly say there's this huge pressure. Also, most moms, whether they want to or not, do go back to work after six months probably at the longest. I'm the one that feels a little like the freakish weirdo here—not that I don't secretly like that a little bit!

On a broader scale policy level (because I guess I just do have to go there) I think that denying women's biology—we have babies, we lactate, most of us actually want to be with the babies for at least a good number of months probably beyond six when they're first born—and forcing them into the mold of maleness in the name of equality is not the answer. Setting up state-run creches, having moms strap machines to their breasts while they're working, or manufacturing faux milk so they can work (work, work, work—how some idolize work) seems all like trying to jam square pegs in round holes to me. I think a truly progressive society allows for different types of people to contribute and does best to be innovative in coming up with ways to enhance what people naturally want to do instead of patchworking or slapping band-aids on reality to make a woman match up perfectly with a man.

I don't care what you feed your baby

(Image: Human-Stupidity.com—and an interesting post there...)

The latest New York Times Motherlode blog post kind of pushed me over the edge when it comes to "advocating" for breastfeeding. Focusing on the "true cost" of breastfeeding, as in the opportunity cost of work time lost, "freedom" to go out and do whatever you want whatever time you want lost, "dignity" lost (!?!) and on and on, the post put the onus for breastfeeding success on "society." But, I am left wondering why "society" should care or make breastfeeding a priority when, clearly, a huge number of individual women don't. If a mother can't be bothered to do something that is so basic for the well being of her own child, then how on earth can employers, taxpayers, etc. be compelled to care? It just doesn't seem that important to most people.

The post closes with:

If we as a society truly place a high value on nursing — if the American Academy of Pediatrics’ recommendation that mothers breast-feed for 12 months or more (and breast-feed exclusively for six months or more) is meant for all women, not just those with the resources to withstand economic loss — then we need to support breast-feeding by putting in place laws, policies, programs and social structures that make it easier, rather than attempt to gloss over its hidden costs. Breast milk isn’t free. But it’s within our power to make it affordable for all.

Naturally, in the comments there were assertions that only the wealthy could make breastfeeding work...what about this, what about that...I got formula and I was fine...I couldn't make enough milk, so I supplemented with formula and my kid was fine...I hate those sanctimommies who lord breastfeeding over everyone else...on and on. There were some who countered the cost issue by explaining how they kept their jobs and put in lots of effort to make pumping work, but they did it—only to be trashed for their privilege. I have read so many excuses and so many comments dismissing the importance of breastfeeding that reveal willful denial and ignorance that I just can't care anymore what some other woman chooses to feed her baby.

My comment got a few "likes" but also was met with indignation. I said:

Some things are priceless. Sadly, not all Americans place much value on a child's early development in general, whether it's breastfeeding or other things. I am one of those who made a conscious choice to take the financial hit to stay home with my baby. And I'm not much of a maternal type, either. It was difficult in terms of my sense of self with the ennui and all that, but I did it because it was the right thing, and eventually I grew into it...and because of it. Frankly, I don't have the hustle/stomach for daycare drop offs, pumping, seeing my new baby for just a few hours a day and leaving it with a stranger. (I may have felt better about a grandma or something.) I feel deeply for those who can't afford the lifestyle shift that's optimal for babies. But, for all those who can, and don't...and there are many...how can we trumpet about what this country values when the people themselves don't value it? People generally find a way to make what they value a priority in their lives. That said, I would love to see a year of subsidized maternity leave for women, for up to 2 children. That, too, seems like the right thing to do.

One of the very best comments I've ever read was this:

...It's far out, but what if we could all be ok with acknowledging that pumping sucks (t'hee) and no one should have to do it to feed their baby? What if we could just come out and say that women should be given the flexibility to work from home, or have onsite care at their offices? It wouldn't be putting down women to say that their bodies require them to stay in close contact with their newborns would it? Or would it? Why?

Sometimes I wonder why we can't take feminism to the next level and demand that our society just tolerate and accommodate our mammal needs. Providing the space for women to extract their milk and feed it to their babies later is really kind of weird if you think about it. How about just making it normal for a woman to be with her baby, and make the jobs accommodate to that role. Half of us are women! Many of us will have babies. They are babies for such a short period, and then it's over.

But, I am afraid, people just don't really want it. When women who do have the power to breastfeed because of their privilege of good white collar jobs with leave, or the means to take time off indefinitely, or a high-earning spouse, or whatever and they choose not to, even when they can, they are sending a message to society that it doesn't matter. If these women who can have "the best" blithely eschew "the best," what makes the low-income woman who needs to work think she should be entitled to help achieving "the best"? And how are we supposed to convince the non-mommy policymakers that women need support?

The benefits of breastfeeding are obvious. We don't even need to go into that. People who want to breastfeed will, and those who don't, wont. DISCLAIMER: I know there are some very rare people who truly can't who may have wanted to and so yeah, no statement is absolute and covers all people. But, the bottom line is that most people can and would if they really wanted to. Nothing we can say at this point is going to get people to do things they don't want to do. The science is there and it's been beaten into people's heads. If they don't want to take the steps to learn how to do it...If they don't have the tenacity to see it through...If X number of things are more important to them than breastfeeding, then who cares?

Some would argue that we're all going to have to pay for healthcare for these babies who would grow into adults with less than the optimal health they could have had if they'd been breastfed. That may be true. I think I am OK with that. We're already paying in one way or another for people who eat mountains of crap food, won't exercise and just basically don't give a shit themselves. Just add more on to the pile, I suppose. It's kind of inevitable. The world is not perfect.

All I can control is myself, and what I feed my own child (be it breastmilk as a baby or junk food as a bigger kid, though it's harder to control the junk food since they're not under mom's watch 24-7 anymore...) I've been told countless times in web comments (because I would NEVER impose my unsolicited views on some person I don't even know in person, in real life) that breastfeeding and staying home may be right for me, but isn't right for everybody and that I should just shut up and mind my own business. I've even been told when I expressed a sadness for those who wanted to breastfeed (or stay at home with their baby) that that was somehow insulting and my "pity" was not needed and the child(ren) is doing "just fine thank you very much"...so, yeah, I guess it's time. If anything I can feel smug that my kid will have an edge, without feeling bad about their kids, because after all, they will be just fine. Right? Right?

Maybe if was actually a breastfeeding educator or true lactivist actually doing something it would make more sense. But all I've been doing is trumpeting something I think is best, that the science shows is best, that is actually really just the normal way mammals are supposed to feed their babies, biologically speaking, and something that happened to be pretty easy for me. It was so great that I guess I could say I felt kind of evangelical about it, like spreading the good news or something (though that's not necessarily reflected in my most recent Motherlode comment). But now I kind of just feel stupid for caring.

On the other hand...

You know what...at first I was more of a free-market mind about this and critical of it. Why should businesses have to toe a line, etc. etc. etc? But after reading comments on other articles covering the story and in the same reading session seeing news of child brides in the Middle East and other countries who die or are abused, it really hit me that...WE NEED THIS (breastfeeding legislation). I wish we didn't need it. I wish people naturally treated women (humans in general) with decency because it was the right and humane thing to do. I wish people automatically treated breastfeeding women with dignity and didn't go out of their way to make them feel awkward and ashamed, but after reading women's experiences expressed in comments and reading some of the snide and nasty things the public has to say about breastfeeding, it is clear that, yes, we do need legislation to force people to behave decently. The child-bride thing comes in because, it seems to me, that women's lowly place in these cultures and the corresponding economic dependency plays a big role in creating a society that condones these young girls to live unfulfilled lives of sadness (and in many cases abuse) with old, lecherous men....so, I've changed my tune to some extent.

Breastfeeding: Don't try this at home

Be careful what you wish for.

In my view, this sentence sums up much of what feminism has brought society in the past 30-40 years. Women can now hold jobs next to men and the majority do. But, all these women in the workforce have contributed to an economy that, for many families, demands that they work, along with their husbands, just to keep a middle-class household afloat, unless they can do some very good planning, serious budgeting or things fall into place just so. Yes, now we women can play with the big boys. We can do anything we want. Great. But, equal opportunity does not mean equal expression or equal execution.

The latest "victory" is a stipulation in the health care bill requiring companies with more than 50 employees to provide a space for nursing mothers of children less than a year old to pump their milk. The space has to meet certain requirements: 4x6 feet, electrical outlet, sink, private, etc. One on hand, I like that it will be easier for women to get breast milk to their babies, but on the other hand, I lament that many women are away from their babies during the first year of the babies' lives and I question the repercussions the legislation will have on business and employees.

How did it ever come to this? A woman, her new baby in another room somewhere, being looked after by some other person, sits attached to a machine that pumps milk out of her body. She then stores it in bottles that will later be used to feed the baby. Now she can get back to work. Does this strike anyone else as kind of inhumane and weird?

I never took to pumping. I admire women who do it, to some extent, because I find it so offputting and I know I am very fortunate to have been able to not be separated from my baby in a way that would necessitate pumping. I was offered an extra pump by a friend with the suggestion that it would give me freedom. I could get away for a few hours more than I would without the pump. Something just didn't appeal to me about it. I never looked back. It was going to be just me and my baby. Together. On demand. That was what I was meant to do for this first year or so of her life. I later tried a hand-held manual pump when she transitioned to solid foods, thinking that I could mix some in with food for her and make breastmilk creations...but that didn't take off for us either.

Breastmilk has been shown to have many health benefits for babies, but I have to wonder, is it just the milk? It strikes me as unnatural and strange that we now think it is a great idea to suck the milk out of a woman with a machine and have someone else feed it to her baby from a bottle. We finally have our freedom. We don't have to be tied to our babies, at home. But, it's like the mom doesn't even matter. We just need to get the milk out of her. Well, I like to think that I matter to my baby, now my child, that it's not just a matter of her getting the milk. Call me narcissistic.

Pride cometh before a fall

OK, not pride, exactly, but, acknowledgment of happiness?

That seems to be what's going on. Immediately after my post about how great my life is, things start to get ugly with my girl. I guess it's not so bad, even ugly with this angel is not all that bad, but still. I am nursing a Belgian trippel to get through this day of no gym, no preschool, all toddler, all the time. I fear at the end of the day it will only make me tired and cranky—like her? Well, then, at least I will be able to empathize.

It seemed to start on Monday when I had the bright idea of an outing downtown to museums. She likes trains, yay! We rode the Metro, but she insisted on getting out, like a million stops before our destination. I thought I'd let her self-direct a little and play things by ear. Big mistake. We ended getting out at Foggy Bottom when we needed to get out way over by Judiciary Square or Gallery Place. I thought we'd go to Starbucks, hang out a little, then get back on a train to the museums then lunch with Dad. But, of course, at Starbucks she wanted to have her Vivianno outside. It was cold and too breezy and none of the tables outside were set up (for good reason). To make a long story short, we wandered around climbing on curbs, looking in flower boxes and otherwise wasting time til I couldn't take it any more. Then we finally got to the Navy Memorial where the relief scultpures kept her busy long enough to get us to lunch time. At lunch, she didn't eat much (another thing driving me crazy about her lately) but just wanted to climb around. After lunch, we finally made it to the Building Museum and she played a little. Sigh of relief. But the whole thing was so exhausting and not what I expected. Play date with preschool people Tuesday. Gym and random stuff Wednesday. Preschool Thursday—thank god!

Something is wrong with her today, since yesterday afternoon. She's not terribly sick. No fever. At least, she didn't have a fever when I checked yesterday, with the rectal thermometer, much to her protest. Just last spring she didn't care about such things, but she has already grown to know that butts are private and people shouldn't stick things in them against your will, and so it feels really awkward to try and cajole her into allowing this. She's too young, of course, to hold it under her tongue. I should probably get one of those quicky ear ones, but not now. She doesn't feel feverish. I was sick and didn't have a fever, just a cold. So, I think she has what I had. She keeps whining, and whining, and whining, except for when she's running around playing. I can't figure her out. She whines that she has to go poo poo. I think she is having some kind of tummy troubles. I can't say she's constipated because she did go yesterday. Once she goes today, things will be better, I know. I give her all the things that are supposed to make you poop and help your tummy...fiber...yogurt...and the things that make her happy and stop her whining, temporarily at least.

She's been asking to nurse like crazy. I obliged a couple days but I have to cut back. Not at this age. It's too damn much. It's got to be only for naps and going to bed. And then, even that has to go within the next six months or so. I am not going to be nursing a 3-year-old for god sakes!

When I went to the gyno yesterday, the doc practically laughed at me when I mentioned I was still nursing, when discussing birth control options. I was sick of the damn mini-pill, with its long, frequent and irregular periods and was ready to go on the regular pill with the no-period-for-three-months schedule. I am one of those sporty, sex-interested women who cannot STAND being held down by something like a period, which, before pregnancy lasted about 3 days for me, but now, lasts the full 5 days and is a royal pain-in-the-ass. She told me it was fine to go on the regular pill but it would decrease my milk supply. I was curious about how much, because, I said, I want to help boost my girl's immunity through the winter. And the doc was like, you've done all you can do for her immunity already! Like, give it up, woman. And, maybe she's right. Maybe she's wrong. But, whatever comes of it, that's fine. I do need to wean.

Anyway, I hope, once she wakes up from her nap, she will eat something, take a shit and be in a good mood. My mother in law is coming tomorrow and I don't want her to see us like this.

What did I learn?

Since I didn't relax much on my vacation, I'd like to think I came away from the week-long trial having learned something. I have a handful of happy memories, yes, but I have many sad ones, too.

I think this time in Barcelona was even more difficult than last year's French drama/disaster. Maybe it is because I thought this time would be different. I thought I'd be able to hold it together better. I thought it would be easier. It was only a week, versus 15 days, for one thing. I envisioned hanging out in parks, strolling the Ramblas and the wide avenues of the Eixample, some beach time. We did all these things, but I must have somehow forgotten that this is a bustling city. These things did not bring me the happiness I thought they would. The stress of traveling got the best of me, again. And the European service industry (at least in my experience in Spain, France and Italy), though just friendly enough, can be awfully lackadaisical to a degree I cannot comprehend. (Maybe I should have re-read last summer's post before this trip, but I forgot!)

I could also blame my troubles on the challenges of traveling with a toddler (demanding, flighty, bossy, insane) or on my husband's personality of being a little spacey and self-focused, but, bottom line, how I react to things is my own problem and must be under my own control. Problem is, I did not keep it under control. I lashed out in frustrated stress and rage at both husband and child on countless occasions. I am ashamed of my reactions to their petty annoying actions (of which there are many) and although I could go into descriptions of what went down on the trip, all the things I had to endure that I could say drove me to my anger—many might understand why I'd get upset—I am not going to because to do so would suggest that I am making excuses or looking for sympathy. I didn't get alot of sympathy from my husband on the trip when I tried to make my troubles known, it was more like, this is the way it is, this is what you've chosen, what we've chosen. And, you know what? He is right. I chose him, with his personality as it is, and here we are. I chose to certain ways of parenting my daughter, and here we are. So I will have to skillfully act in ways that will best gently shift things in the way I need them to go, and I must start with myself.

I guess that's what I learned. And it seems that its a lesson I am forced to learn over and over and over again: that the only thing I can change is me. It is just too tiring and frustrating to try and change other people. And, if my own reactions make me feel worse than the perceived offenses of others against me, I have to find other ways to react, or not react at all.

***

I was thinking alot of getting a tattoo as a ritual experience to help me remember these life lessons (since I keep forgetting them in the moments of stress). In addition to the experience, I would then have the mark as a reminder. I'm having problems with following through on the permanence of a tattoo, though. I'm also afraid of the pain, although I understand this would add to the ritual experience of it. My husband doesn't want me to get it on my wrist, which is where I want to get it. He is worried about potential job interviews! So, I started "trying one on" by drawing the design I wanted (Sanskrit script of the word "namaste") with a Sharpie. It looks good and I am thinking that maybe drawing it on each day (or filling in where it is inevitably fading) could be a ritual/meditative process (it only takes a couple minutes) and might even be better than getting a permanent tattoo, since I would have to do it regularly and that would help remind me of the purpose and the message I am trying to give myself (basically, be nice and try to be understanding of and compassionate to others).

***

It's definitely a process, though. At the present moment I have locked myself in the bathroom to finish my post and my toddler is literally banging on the door wailing...mama!!!!!!!! I've played with her already. I've made her breakfast. She said she wanted to wash her hands and made a big deal about it, totally out of the blue. We go to wash her hands and now she doesn't want to, so now what? I am done. Seriously, what am I supposed to do when I can't get a moment to myself or finish a thought? I simply refuse to CONSTANTLY play with a child. I should not have to. I refuse to constantly give a child my attention. I am confident that I give her enough attention. She is just very demanding. She is a good girl, very smart, extremely cute, but she is very demanding and I've got to curb that. There is a difference between instilling self-esteem in a child and nurturing them versus letting them think they rule the world. I am at the point right now where it is extremely frustrating to me. I mean EXTREMELY. At the moment, I feel a tad bit betrayed by attachment parenting and extended nursing. What have I gotten myself into? We have never used a babysitter except my parents, once, when we were visiting. I am resentful that I don't get much alone time with my husband and that I am almost always "on" with nearly no breaks. (Yes, I go to the gym for an hour and a half or so, but that's not enough). This is not a sustainable way of living. All I can do is try to hold on and know that kids grow up, or at least turn three, right? That's when the madness is supposed to end, I hear. I know I have seriously digressed, but this needs to be said. Maybe others can take some comfort in the fact that other good moms feel anger and frustration? Whatever. I need to get it out. The post didn't start this way, but it is going to end this way. I will collect myself and go face her and try to be kind. I learned during the vacation that it doesn't work to vocalize my anger to my husband or my daughter, it somehow just ignites it and it explodes. Whereas, as I have been doing all weekend since I've drawn on my tattoo, I can just get mad quietly within myself and let it diffuse inside and vanish, and nobody gets hurt.

***

OK. Out of the bathroom. Gave her some attention and she is fine. Fine. I am trying to teach myself that it is alright to let a toddler have their tantrum. I used to respond quickly and actively to all her cries when she was a baby. My nature is that I can't stand the sound of a baby crying (not my baby, anyway) and think that I must be doing something wrong and need to take care of it right away. I guess evolutionarily that is a good thing. I am programmed to protect and care. But, as a baby becomes a toddler and a child, I have to let go and understand that she is going to need to freak out and not get what she wants when she wants it all the time...and I don't need to get mad or be resentful, it's just part of her growing—and mine.

Weaning baby from the breast and me from the web

I realized last week on my daughter's 22 month "birthday"—that weaning has got to be imminent for us. I was laying there, trying to put her to sleep. She was fidgeting around, nibbling at my nipple in a grating way. This happens most of the time now. During the past week, my feelings have only intensified. At first, I had mixed feelings. I am really into breastfeeding. Maybe I should say I was really into breastfeeding, but Ava is almost two and I am questioning whether the breastfeeding is holding back our relationship in other ways. Also, I am just kind of getting tired of it. I know that sounds horrible and it makes me feel like I'm on a slippery slope toward Hanna Rosin territory (not really), but after almost two years of it, part of me feels like I have done my time. All good things must come to an end, and all that.

I used to really, really love it. It was cozy and tender. I literally felt a wave of relaxation come over me when she latched on as the hormones started a-flowin'. Now, I still feel that from time-to-time, but mostly, I feel a 31 lb. toddler crawling all over me and switching from breast to breast every minute. Oh, and she usually likes to be grabbing the one she's not sucking on, just to make sure it's still there. It is really maddening. I feel almost used and abused by the way she goes about it. I resent it. Deep inside, I know I will miss nursing. I will miss the closeness and the tenderness of it. But, Ava's helping with that pain since there's not much of that cuddliness happening right now.

All this negativity is telling me it's time to wean. But I still want to do it kindly and gently. We leave for a week's vacation overseas next week, and we have a weekend in New York later this month, so I have to take a very slow and measured approach—not only because it is the right thing to do for Ava's feelings, but because it is the convenient thing to do for me. I have found that nursing is a great tool to have when traveling to help keep a child calm, satisfied and more manageable in unusual situations. With a toddler at the height of her headstrong and demanding phase, I need all the help I can get to avoid major scenes.

I've already technically started the weaning process by not breastfeeding "on demand" and instead trying to divert her attention, talk her out of it, tell her the milk is "not ready" and, once in a while, putting some vinegar on my boobs along with saying they're not ready in order to really give myself a break.

Sadly, I think I understand why she may have been so needy lately (now that she's over being sick, which was why she was so needy before) and its probably a combination of boredom and wanting more attention. I had some challenges work-wise this past week with my computer hard drive crashing and I had to spent time getting a new one, purchasing, installing and setting up software, re-doing work I'd lost, and doing more work I had due for a deadline this week. Admittedly, I was probably not as attuned to her as I should have been.

So, a big strategy of our weaning process—which will kick into high gear once we are back from Spain, then really, really high gear after New York—will be for me to make sure I give her alot of attention and love, and keep her busy and not bored. This is easier said than done, of course, because when I try to play with her, she still interrupts the play and grabs at my boobs, pulls on my shirt and says, "milkies! milkies!" And then I get frustrated and skulk off to lock myself in the bathroom with my laptop for a few minutes just to get some distance.

And, the laptop—that brings me to another issue about why it will be a new challenge to keep her busy and not bored which is related to keeping me not bored. I have, in the past, always kept the laptop at arm's reach and bounced back and forth between playing and doing stuff with her and doing stuff on the laptop. But, the balance has gotten a little off. It really hit home when my machine died Sunday morning and I was without a laptop til the following morning when I went out and bought a new one that I am close to being a web addict. (I still had access to my husband's PC and posted on Facebook, checked my e-mail, etc. still during this period of being "without" a computer.) But, I was so, so uneasy without my machine. It was an awful feeling. Like withdrawal.

Now, I am not as bad as some of the moms I read about in a recent article on internet addiction, where they don't clean the house or they take drugs to stay up late so they can be online more. I don't think I neglect my kid. After all, she is not even two years old yet and she already knows her colors—red, blue, yellow, orange, brown, black, pink—and we are working on numbers and letters, too, a little, but those seem a little ways off. Still, I think that by cutting down on my non-essential screen time (like I keep saying I am going to do) that will aid in the weaning process. It might also clear my head a little, too. It will help shake me out of the funk I am in and help jump start a new phase for my girl.

I'm glad to be getting away for a week, I have to say, I need something to shake things up in my life. I rarely go online when I am overseas, there's just too many other fun things to do, I don't bring a laptop so would be relegated to internet cafés or public machines in the hotel, so that will be helpful in weaning me from the web—just a little bit. Vacations always change me a little, change my perspective, help me shift gears. I really need that right about now. Then, I can help my child shift gears a bit, too.

A flimsy case against breast-feeding

Just out this month in The Atlantic, The Case Against Breast-Feeding attempts to dismantle the science supporting the health benefits of breast-feeding, seemingly in an effort to justify some women's ambivalence. I want to be mad and get snarky, but I just can't. The author seems so angst-ridden and the article so all-over-the-map in it's structure, I just feel sorry for her. As I am always compelled to do, I will say that I think people should do what they need to do to make their lives work and if that means feeding the baby formula, then fine. I also don't want to make those women who want to breastfeed but for whatever reason cannot feel bad. That said, the "case" made by journalist Hanna Rosin—that breast-feeding may not be worth the dent it puts in women's freedom—is both weak and dangerous, if anybody takes it seriously.

I can agree with some of Rosin's observations, but not with the spirit of the article or her conclusions. Yes, people can chose what they want to chose for their lives, however, mis-information driven by malcontent such as that of Rosin's does nothing to elevate the way our society values children, families, and humanity itself. When you make a case against something so natural and so basic to humanity, the very feeding of our babies in the way we were meant to feed them, it seems to me you are throwing in your vote with the capital-driven, work-and-productivity-above-all-else camp. You are saying that things women inherently do are not as valuable as industry. You are devaluing women. How is this real feminism? Women should not have to match men in order to be respected.

Rosin breast-feeds. Dutifully. She doesn't really like it so much, though. She says, "It is a serious time commitment that pretty much guarantees that you will not work in any meaningful way." Well, that's a huge assumption. I breast-feed on-demand and have made a significant financial contribution (30-35 percent) to my household for the past 21 months. I don't think my clients would say my work is not meaningful. Women make it work and should be applauded for their creativity and tenacity—especially those who have to deal with pumping. Women should be supported in their efforts to care for their children, not told that this care is not all that important, and therefore can be cast aside so they can get down to the real work of turning the wheels of industry.

Rosin claims the science supporting the benefits of breastfeeding is inconclusive, noting the dearth of randomized, controlled trials (RCTs). She seems unaware of the growing call among nutrition scientists to look beyond RCTs for evaluating nutrient benefits. Because poor nutrition can't ethically be controlled for—researchers can't deprive a group of study participants something good for them—the RCT is probably not the ideal model for nutrition research. Realistically, we have to rely heavily on epidemological data, that is, studies that track what people do over time and tease out similarities in an attempt to link habits to outcomes. Many of our public health initiatives, in fact, are based on epidemiological evidence, such as the message that fruits and vegetables are good for you, seen in the "5-a-day" campaign, or even the venerable food pyramid itself. Rosin, after presenting her interpretation of the body of scientific evidence, or lack thereof, on the benefits of breast-feeding, says, "Breast-feeding does not belong in the realm of facts and hard numbers; it is much too intimate and elemental." I'd have to agree with that, so why include all the analysis of the journal studies?

I will admit I am not all that interested in the science behind breast-feeding. To me, the fact that my body makes milk and my baby wants to drink it tells me that it's right. It feels good. It's cozy. It just makes sense. Yes, it's often a challenge for a new mom to get started. Yes, sometimes I am just not in the mood to have my now-toddler climbing on me and grabbing for "milkies". But, it's my calling right now. It was since my daughter's birth and it will be until we both decide it's time to move on. (I'm hoping that will be some time between age two and three.)

Rosin's interpretation of the science doesn't really wash for me. It seems like she had this idea in her head—let's discount the benefits of breast-feeding because it's a pain and it ties women down, yeah, that's a new idea—and she went and dug into the journals to support her predetermined notion.

Rosin is one mixed-up woman and I wish she could just let go. She says of breastfeeding, "It contains all of my awe about motherhood, and also my ambivalence. Right now, even part-time, it’s a strain. But I also know that this is probably my last chance to feel warm baby skin up against mine, and one day I will miss it." She is letting this thing she knows she will miss slip through her fingers because of her joyless brand of feminism.

She asks that we weigh the benefits of breast-feeding against all those things a woman must give up in order to do so. "Given what we know so far, it seems reasonable to put breast-feeding’s health benefits on the plus side of the ledger and other things—modesty, independence, career, sanity—on the minus side, and then tally them up and make a decision. "

For me, there's no decision. I just always thought I'd breastfeed, although I never gave it a whole lot of thought. I was surprised in my child birth class that such a big deal was made about breastfeeding, almost to ensure we new moms would do it. I think that's good, from a public health perspective, but to me, it was just assumed that a woman would breastfeed unless she just simply couldn't for very serious reasons. I know now I was a little out of the loop in terms of the difficulty some women have and the politics of it all.

I guess different women process these things differently—modesty, independence, career, sanity—because I just don't have issues with any of these. (Each could easily be the subject of a longer post!) Maybe because I am uninhibited, or because I have small breasts, or both, modesty is not a concern of mine when it comes to breast-feeding. I'll do it any time, anywhere. It's natural, it's me, it's my kid and it's my right. I don't lament any lack of independence, either. The way I see it, certainly the first year of my child's life, and now well into the second, it's kind of my job to put her first, and so, yeah, maybe I can't take off and be away from her for hours at a time. Maybe I'm not supposed to at this point in our lives. Career? I opted out of the office day-to-day in order to stay home with my daughter during her baby years. Other women, who I admire immensely, make it work by pumping (another issue worthy of much discussion). And as far as sanity goes, it's over-rated.

Commenters to the NY Times Motherlode blog had some really good posts...

More of my thoughts on breast-feeding...

What I learned from my long European vacation with a one-year old

Last month we took a long trip to France by way of Belgium, my husband, my one-year old, and I. Oddly enough, I have so many happy memories from the trip, but during our 17 days of travel, there were many times I wanted to yell or wanted to cry—and did.

Our friends and family thought we were crazy for even trying, although some expressed admiration. The fact is, it is a challenge to travel to a foreign country with a baby or toddler, even if it is a Western European, industrialized country with most of the comforts of home readily available. You still are in unfamiliar territory, the rooms aren't childproof, you don't get the breaks you might get at home when the child can just kind of safely play on their own for a bit. You want to make the most of the trip, go on outings, see some sites, but the baby wants to be a baby and do the stuff she usually does. You worry about the baby, but the baby is fine. In fact, in my case, it was really me who had the most melt downs.

The biggest thing I want to remember for next time, which applies to travel in general, not just travel with children, is to let go. My character flaw of "control freak" is a bad mix with travel. You will get lost in a 800-year-old cities with Rick Steves' sketched out maps. There will be long lines. If you don't know the language, you will face some awkward moments and have to make an effort to communicate sometimes when you don't want to. Even though I have come to this conclusion before after trips, I never seem to remember to live by the rule of "letting go" when I go on the next trip. I just can't emphasize this enough.

It would have been so much better if I had been able to embrace my lack of control over the outside world and better control my own emotions. It would even have given me a window on my child's world, perhaps. When you travel to a foreign country, everything is new and different, you are out of your element, and you can't control any of it. Welcome to the world of your baby! How cool is that? If only I would have realized it at the time—that I could get a better understanding of what my daughter might be going through at this time of her life by embracing the challenges of travel instead of just getting frustrated!

A really positive thing the trip brought to light was how there are alot of things we are doing right as parents. Three major tenets of attachment parenting—breastfeeding, baby-wearing and co-sleeping—proved to be very convenient and helpful practices while traveling.

I can't imagine how one would make a trip like this without breastfeeding a child this age. It provided food for her whenever she was hungry. Sometimes, when you're on the go, its not easy to get food suitable for a one-year-old on demand. But, she is always happy to get the breast. In addition to providing nutrients, it provided comfort for her on the go as well. As our little family made our way through bustling streets of Brussels and Paris, and the promenades of Cannes, Nice, Antibes, Avignon, Arles and Nimes—with new sights and sounds whirling all around us—the baby could nuzzle in close for a little milk when it all became too much.

Carrying my baby in the Ergo carrier was a better choice for me than using a stroller—even with my little one weighing in at 26 lbs. I must admit, I did enjoy the couple times we used the stroller, but I found it to be more of a hassle than a help as we negotiated our way via trains, narrow crowded sidewalks and bumble cobble-stone streets. She was raised more as a carried baby than a stroller baby, also, so she preferred the carrier most of the time. It was nice because when you are on the move, especially in busy cities like Paris, there are lots of people on the street, it can be crowded in some places and hard to maneuver the stroller. Also, being low to the ground while bodies shuffle by all around is probably more disconcerting to a baby than being held close to their mama up at chest level. Here, they are more a part of it all, a part of your world, and can feel so much more secure. She was even able to nap on the go in the carrier. We went about our business throughout the day and she fell asleep when she was tired, comfortable in her Ergo close to mama.

That being said, it was a little tiring walking for four or more hours a day carrying 26 lbs. You really need to be in shape to go on a trip like this with a baby or toddler. In addition to carrying her, I had to be ready to chase her! I think my commitment to working out paid off by providing me with helpful strength and stamina. I don't regret the choice I often made, when faced with a time crunch, to work out instead of do my French lesson. The workouts were more helpful!

Finally, co-sleeping, even in the transitional way we currently do it, makes sleeping arrangements easier to handle when you're traveling. If you're already used to sleeping with your baby, it won't come as that much of an inconvenience when you're forced to do it on vacation. Some hotels offer cribs, many smaller or budget ones don't. And, many babies are not likely to easily fall asleep in an unfamiliar crib in an unfamiliar room. How much cozier is it to curl up with mom and dad in their bed and feel safe and secure by their side?

Did we give up sex, with the co-sleeping? No way! Of course, if we were traveling just as a couple, it would have been easier to get romantic and no doubt we would have been more active in this arena. But, as with home life, a little creativity and timing allowed us to enjoy some breaks for sex. When a child is this young, they can sleep in one corner of the bed while mom and dad do their thing in another corner or on the floor. You get the idea.

OK, on to things we can get real clear about. Here are my overall tips for traveling with a toddler:

1. Take overnight flights, if possible—My child slept most of the plane ride over. We are lucky. She is a good sleeper who can sleep wherever as long as she's tired and mama is close.

2. Have new toys on hand for the plane and train rides—We got about $30 worth of new stuff for her that was compact enough to fit in a back pack with other carry on items. I also brought some stickers and cool stuff that I probably wouldn't let her play with unsupervised on her own (magnadoodle, stickers with beads that could be a choke hazard) but on my lap on the plane they were fine and oh so cool to her.

3. Breastfeed! But pack snacks—It is so awesome and easy to be able to just whip out your boob and make your kid happy. Bananas and crackers and stuff help, too, but nothing beats the boob in a pinch.

4. Carry your baby—A stroller can come in handy, sure, but I found our Ergo carrier to be indispensible. If I had to choose between stroller or carrier, I'd choose the carrier.

5. Co-sleep—You don't need to worry if the hotel has a crib, the baby will sleep more easily in an unfamiliar place with mom and dad close by. This one is more optional, I guess, for the sleep-trainers out there and those who are really cranky about getting lots of uninterrupted sleep, but for me, it was really good and made me glad we are transitional, semi-co-sleepers.

6. Dine at outdoor cafes or have picnics when you can—Mom and Dad can take turns rambling around with the baby so they don't get too cooped up in the highchair (which aren't always available) or on your lap—especially active walkers. European meals tend to take a long time, so it's nice to be able to let the baby take a stroll and blow off some steam so they don't fuss and go crazy at the restaurant.

7. Take your baby to playgrounds and parks—It's a family vacation. They're part of the family. Do stuff they like!

And of course, the unquantifiable—let go! Don't be upset if things don't go as planned. Be flexible. Embrace chance. Try to take it as an opportunity to see the world through a different perspective. And have fun. As hard as it may be traveling with a young toddler, the memories will so precious.

Coming soon: Notes from Seattle--Taking a One-Year-Old to a Music Festival