Caroline’s First Days

Feb 282012
 

Caroline didn’t cry when she was born. She went from swimming in amniotic fluid to completely born in twenty minutes, apparently gulping lots of fluid in the process.

They gave her to me immediately. My only thought was that she was pink and looked well. But she didn’t cry. Paul didn’t cry either, but this was a bit different. Something seemed odd.

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After just a few moments, the nurses took her back from me. They wanted her to cry, so they gave her a shot she needed, gave her a bath, and proceeded to give her a vigorous rubdown. She had her eyes wide open, but she did not make a sound. I was stuck on the delivery table getting stitched up and I couldn’t see her, but Ryan stood by her. I remember starting to get a bit concerned after about ten minutes or so of this.

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Shortly, Ryan and the nurses left with her “for a little while” to take her to the special care nursery where she could get further attention.

I can’t recall thinking much other than “a little while” isn’t very long.

I was still running on adrenaline. When I was discharged from Labor and Delivery we went straight to the special care nursery. Because she was born so quickly, Caroline had developed TTN (Transient Tachynea of the Newborn) which meant that she had liquid in her lungs and as a result was breathing quick shallow breaths.

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Because I’d been up more than 24 hours at this point (well, except for the brief, contraction-filled two hours I’d had at home), I was incredibly the first day. The three days Caroline spent in the Special Care Nursery were rather draining on me; I like to know what is happening and I felt pretty out of control for my little girl’s sake. Anyway, let’s not dwell on those days. You’ll notice I didn’t take many pictures. The nurses were great and Caroline is fine: there are no long-term issues from TTN.

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Caroline came home on her third morning.

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Paul came with Grandma and Grandpa (where he stayed Friday night to Saturday) and he was so excited to finally meet her. He’d seen her through the nursery window. “That’s my sister!” he said with pride. When she and he were finally together, he was so excited to read her a story.

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Paul is a great big brother. He’s feeling the stress of new rules and less attention, but overall, he seems quite pleased to be a big brother now!

Caroline Rose

Feb 232012
 

Caroline Rose Reid

Born February 22, 2012 at 6:25 a.m.

7 lbs 7 oz, 20 inches

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Mom with the new big brother!

Caroline is spending some time in the NICU now so Paul hasn’t seen her yet. She’s doing great and will probably come home with me tomorrow morning.

More pictures when I have a real computer!

It’s a….

Oct 072011
 

Baby Girl!

Paul has accepted that the baby will not be a monkey. A few times in the past week, he has said he hopes for a sister. Yesterday, he said he hopes for a brother. But a sister it is!

Baby is 100% normal in the measurements and has plenty of space to move around. I was about 19 weeks when I had the ultrasound yesterday and baby was even a few days larger than 19 weeks. So, despite the fact that I’m still wearing normal clothes and everyone (and I mean everyone) thinks I’m very small for being that far along in pregnancy, no worries — baby is perfect.

(The nurse that took my blood pressure even thought I was 9 weeks pregnant. I said, “no, 19 weeks.” She was shocked.)

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Paul took this picture of me last week (at 18 weeks.)

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Open mouth. She’s screaming or singing.

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Our baby girl with stars in her eyes.

Unwrapping Your Children

Jul 062011
 

Well, about these girls. They came as they were, unique, wonderful spirits and my blessing was to just unwrap the package to see who they were and to help guide them into who they could be.  I didn’t ever feel like I had to mold them or make them into somebody different than who they were because they were so great when they came. It was a fun discovery to learn who they were. They are different, different people, but they are delightful fun daughters and I always enjoyed our children.

Julie B. Beck on her two daughters

I want to say that about my own children. I never want my son to think I don’t appreciate his own personality. I don’t want him to think that I expect him to be something he is not. That would be a painful thing, to feel like a disappointment. I don’t want my son to feel he disappoints me for being himself.

This means I need to never talk about his faults, or things I disapprove of, in front other people. I need to avoid criticism when he does things differently than I would do them. I need to make sure I don’t manipulate him into doing something I want, when his personality would do something differently. I need to always remember that he came to me a precious spirit, with his own personality. He will make choices different from those that I’d make, but that’s a part of his precious personality.

As his mother, I can help guide him into who he can be. I can help him discover his potential.

I don’t need to mold him: I need to unwrap him.

To listen to the entire conversation between Sheri Dew and Julie B. Beck and her two daughters, visit Mormon Channel.

The Perfect Age

Jun 082011
 

As we were driving to church the other day, I was struck by how perfect Paul’s age is right now. Although he sometimes has tantrums and he’s certainly opinionated, overall, it’s so delightful being his mother and seeing his blossoming into a human being, and not just a baby. I need to do a better job of recording the adorable and perfect age things Paul says and does. I am going to miss this age so very much!

Imagination

If he wants something, he simply creates it. He’s had a hard time grasping the concept of Christmas being a very long time from now. So instead he creates his own: “Did you know that tomorrow it is Christmas underground?” (His imaginary friends live underground.)

If I can’t play with him, suddenly the imaginary doorbell rings and there is an imaginary friend to play with him. And then there is the fact that he can create anything, you name it.

Games

Paul is in a serious board game streak right now. He loves them. He loves following rules and he loves making up rules. His turn usually takes him about five minutes, so I read a book waiting for my turn. Seriously. But he’s learning about taking turns, about winning and losing, and about counting and money (Monopoly). He loves to play games.

And the greatest thing is that he loves to make up games all the time. “Let’s race!” he says when it’s time to get dressed. “Let’s find shapes!” he said as we were driving to church. And when he said he saw “funny ovals” I was at a loss as to what he was talking about. “I see a lot of them!” he clarified. Cars, it turns out, are funny ovals.

Stories

Along with his great imagination comes his impressive ability to tell stories. I am reminded of my creative story writing when I was six and seven years old. Somehow, I lost that urge to write, to record creative inventions that I imagined in my mind. I hope I can nurture Paul’s story telling abilities so he doesn’t lose it. I’ll be so sad when he grows up too much for stories. I hope that never happens.

Learning

The other day, he brought me the guide book I had about NYC and said, “Mommy, this is about New York!” and I was amazed that not only could he read and understand it, but that he knows New York City is a place, that’s it’s far from here, that I went there. And I know most three year olds don’t read yet, but even without the reading, I love watching his discovery of new things. We’re learning about the moon and about outerspace this week and I love watching his fascination as we read a picture book.

Honesty and Sincerity

Sometimes I don’t appreciate his honesty. (“Yuck! I do not like this soup!”) But other times I find it so sweet.

“I love you,” I say.

“I already know that!” says Paul.

Reflections On General Conference

Oct 072010
 

Semi-annual and annual General Conference is a touchstone each April and October. As I turn on the computer and tune in to prophet’s messages, I find myself reflecting on where we were six months ago, a year ago, two years ago.

Three years ago, on a Sunday morning, I was in labor. I awoke at 3 a.m. Melbourne time, finally waking Ryan up at 5 a.m., just as the morning session of Saturday conference was beginning (or ending?) in Salt Lake City. I watched the majority of the session on the internet as I curled up in laboring ball on the bed and as I paced the bedroom back and forth. I was not feeling very well and I don’t remember much, but I do remember Elder Cook was called that session. I got through most of the session, then we called our parents and told them we were headed to the hospital. A few hours later (at 3:13 p.m. Melbourne time), Paul was born, just about midnight in the USA.

Two years ago, Paul celebrated his first birthday at Grandma and Grandpa’s house. I turned on my computer and we watched it on my little screen in my parent’s family room. Paul was a new walker, happy to giggle and play with toys and listen to the songs. He was very tired when we had birthday cake in between sessions.

Last October, we had invited some friends to come to our house for dinner and conference. But then Ryan and I and Paul were a bit sick and we canceled. I don’t recall that we really watched much. We were sick a year ago April, too. I know because we had invited the same friends and had to cancel. Ah well, some years are more memorable than others. I don’t think it was very memorable with toddler-Paul.

This year, Paul gets it. He recognized the prophet and I borrowed Frank and Elizabeth’s idea and had a few key words we are listening for: Temples, the Book of Mormon, and Prophets. When he heard each one he would get to put a sticker on the page. He lasted through a bit of each conference and even when he’d be playing with his toys and we’d think he wasn’t listening, he’d suddenly stop and say, “Alma in the Book of Mormon! I get a Book of Mormon sticker!” And he’d stop playing to put a sticker (or three) on the Book of Mormon page.

This is a testimony to me that it is never too young to give full attention and expectation on your kids. They are listening to the prophet even when you may not think so. Beyond that, they recognize the spirit and the mantle on the shoulders of those who have been called.

It was a few months ago that, at a baptism, Paul saw the Bishop on the side of the room and said, with barely contained excitement, “Mommy! Look! It’s that guy!!!”

“Oh, do you see the Bishop?” I asked. Our bishop is not very outgoing and talkative unless he has a reason to be, so I was quite surprised that Paul had noticed the Bishop as someone special. But, seeing it as a good opportunity, I walked him over, had him shake the Bishop’s hand, and told Paul that the Bishop was special because he was called of God to serve the ward.

Ever since then, Paul has always been very, very excited to see the Bishop, and always wants to shake his hand. At another baptism last month, he saw the Bishop and I again walked him over to shake the Bishop’s hand.

“Yes, it’s the Bishop!” I said.

The Bishop heard me. “One of many,” he responded.

“But the only one of our ward.” I said. I told him how I was sure Paul had a testimony of his calling as Bishop. He got tears in his eyes.

Yes, our children have the spirit. They know.

Reflections On Being a Stay-at-Home Mom

Oct 072010
 

When I picked Paul up from preschool, day 1, I realized that I have loved being a part of his every moment since his birth. I have been able to always know what he does, what he says, what he learns. Even when I didn’t want to, I have cared for the inner workings of his body, from his ear wax to his bowel movements (is it not so?). His life has been an intricate part of my life for three years.

From now on, from the moment I drop him off at preschool until I pick him up, there are regular hours of the week that I am not a part of. He’ll say cute things that I’ll never hear. He will have fun activities that I’ll never hear about. He will fall down and hurt himself and cry, let’s hope learning how to calm himself (he’s rather sensitive about “owies”). He will take care of his own toileting needs. And that is how it should be.

Being a stay-at-home mom has its share of ups and downs. I have not loved everything in the past three years and I have my own short fuse for certain annoyances. But it was important for me to send him off to school. I’ll better appreciate the time we do spend together. He has long realized he’s distinct from me, and I need to do a better job of letting go and living my life without following his every movement. I have to trust that I’ve taught him what he needs to get along in the world, and when we are together those are the things I need to make sure I’ll teach him.

In a Relief Society meeting on motherhood a few months ago, the teacher talked about how all six of her children live far away from her. She is sad because she doesn’t see her children and grandchildren as often as she’d like but she can see from associating with them from a distance that she knows has succeeded as a mother in teaching her children to be independent, happy, and well-adjusted in the world, despite the fact that they are so far away from her.

My job as a mother is to help Paul to learn what he needs to learn to be his own person like that, from developing his own testimony to coping with the physical and emotional challenges that come. What an honor that I can do so full-time, and I’m glad to see him branching out on his own, even though it makes me sad just a little bit.

Reflections On Paul’s Third Birthday

Oct 072010
 

Paul is so old. He has not had a toilet accident in more than a week (and only two or three bed wettings in that time, trust me that’s an improvement over last week since he has insisted on wearing underpants and not pull-ups even to bed). He’s beginning to say “I’ll do it all by myself.” He wakes himself up in the night to go potty. He asks to use a “big boy plate” at dinner and at least one meal a day I give him a cup that is not a sippy cup and he does not spill.

I have just tucked him in to bed after a very fun third birthday. I gave myself a rule this morning that I wouldn’t let myself be distracted by the chores (Thursday is normally my clean the whole house day) or blogging (I like to blog on Rebecca Reads far more than here, if you haven’t noticed) or reading my novel (sometimes I admit that a novel is in my hand as I play with him. It’s amazing how much one can read in the in-between moments every day).

No, instead, today was his day. I gave him my undivided attention. Even as I cooked dinner (his favorite and his request, Cream of Pumpkin Soup), I was still giving him attention as much as I could. And it made for day of delight. I’m just as tired as the toddler, since we played his new Busytown Game for five hours (it requires crawling from one side of the six-foot game board to the other through the course of one game) so I know such one-on-one time is not doable every day. But it was so nice to enjoy my son thoroughly.

I absolutely loved the newborn stage. I loved that I was able to cuddle him constantly and no one tried to take him away from me and I didn’t want to let anyone take him away from me (I was not yet burned out, I suppose). I loved that only I could nurse him. He needed his mother regularly through the day and it was such a special time, even in the middle of the night as we dosed off together. I loved that he was innocent and learning how to control his arms, his legs, his head. Everything was so wonderful about newborn Paul. Even the spit-up I didn’t mind so much as Daddy did.

I haven’t loved the other stages. Once he started to crawl and walk and talk, I found myself wondering why I’d been so excited for those milestones. I didn’t like his inability to communicate and his out-of-control self, even as he thought he could do things. But now, in the past few weeks, I feel Paul has crossed a new milestone and I love this one. This new age, age three, the preschool years, is a remarkable one. My parenting book, which I haven’t looked at for probably two years but recently referred to, calls the twos the “terrible twos” and the threes and fours the “magical years.”

I can really see his world becoming “magical”.  He still cannot control his emotions very well (especially at the end of the day, when he’s been up for the full 12 hours) and he certainly has his opinions on what he wants to be doing and what he wants me to do (“come play with me, Mommy! Right! NOW!”) But suddenly he has imaginary friends, he gets wide-eyed as I tell him fairy tales, and he asks questions and tells stories about the past, present, and future. He’s putting things together, and learning at an exponential rate. He reads his numbers, one to 13; he knows the phonics of every letter, although he doesn’t read words yet; he knows right from left; he knows both of his parents names; and we’re almost there on his phone number. (If I tell it to him, he knows it is his phone number, and if I stop part way through he can finish it, usually).

Today we were driving and he was calling out the numbers on speed limit signs.

“4!5!” he said.

“Yes, that’s 45,” I replied, turning left on to a side road.

“3!0!” he exclaimed.

“Is 30 slower or faster than 45?” I asked.

“Slower” he said, noting the slowed speed of the car.

“Yes! 30 is a lower number than 45, so 30 miles per hour is slower than 45 miles per hour.” We played with our basket of apples when we got home and talked about how three apples is less than four apples. And two and one are both less than three. He doesn’t really get it (well, he probably did for a moment but has already forgotten) but it was so fun to see that the he’s learning and that we can talk about real things. The world is magical, but he’s learning that it can also be explained if he just learns how.

I can’t wait to see where we go in the next year.

Happy birthday, Raisin!

Toilet Training Success Stories Wanted

Jan 162010
 

Given Paul’s interest in Baby Doll’s toilet training, I’m considering beginning his own toilet training come the first of February. But I’d love to know your ideas for helping it go well. No promises I’ll try your method, but please share away!

Of course, that would assume there are people still reading my bog after months of silence. If not, I understand. My life is only so interesting, as this post demonstrates.

One More Thing

Oct 072009
 

I sang and rocked my 2-year-old “I Am a Child of God” again tonight. He “sang” along with me.

I certainly hope that I’m that “parent kind and dear” we’re singing about! What a precious moment!

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