Nursing My Toddler

I've nursed two toddlers before this current one, and each one has been different.  Each has been his own story, his own personality, his own circumstance to come with it. Weaning is something that I think about with each of them.  The first time around it was systematic and it worked easily without much fuss. The second time around we took our time, he needed me a little longer, we had allergies and we were wee, and we just needed that mama comfort differently. But both times, weaning was led with the pretext that I was pregnant once again. This time I'm not, and not that we wouldn't welcome another baby, but we're not actively seeking one right this instance either.

So this toddler, this toddler has been a little different from the start.  First, I have enjoyed nursing her so much more from the start, at least on the good days where I am not about to pull out my hair from life. I never have had to be systematic with her, and honestly it was hard at first to do that, because there is always doubt and fear.  But grace was there to keep me going and keep my fears at bay, for I had a ~15lb baby at 4 months. There was no need to worry.  And I slept, and we co-slept and we nursed.  And I am not trying to bring out mommy wars of doing it differently, but this is what worked for us.  I tend to need sleep to function, I only get sleep if I don't have to be fully awake at night when doing things, co-sleeping and nursing allows both of these for me.

Back to this toddler of mine, she is so smart, and so helpful and so kind, but she also needs to pull in to rebalance and get her mama time with nursing.  I don't remember having that before. My boys nursed for a some comfort of course, but they also saw the world differently.  They barely could be bothered to stop to refocus, it all was so fascinating to them. They didn't need that recheck in the same way.

And so we actually still nurse at least 5-8 times during a 24 hour period. And some days it feels like a lot, it does, but others, its okay. Its hard to balance expectations with needs or wants of hers of mine of my husband of my other children, let alone the pressures of the world.  And sometimes she has to be told no, but we still nurse.  And sometimes that means we are out in public.  And while I am used to nursing a baby a ~year or less in public, its a whole other element when its a toddler.  I think sometimes that I've entered into a forbidden zone, but I still do it, because its a need that I can and need to fulfill. The one thing I've reverted back to is using a small cover at this age when out.  And it may just be that I'm not fully comfortable yet, and I think thats okay.  But honestly its more for the fact that toddlers tend to be crazy nursers and well I'm not up for full body exposure to total strangers, at least not just yet.  I still have a little bit of Puritan in me I have to get over. :)

The topic of weaning has been crossing my mind.  My husband knows this, because I've mentioned in passing a least a dozen times, in probably in a I'm going crazy way, but still it is there.  But maybe not right now.  I think at this point that the fight of not nursing in certain instances is too strong for it be be okay to let go. And maybe that's just me, and maybe I'm weak, but I don't think so.  Both of my weaning experiences before have never been harsh, and while this girl of mine is her own person, I think at the very least we need to approach weaning in a gentle way. And so I will, slowly and maybe this will take the pressure off myself, because the pressure is usually what ruins the experience for myself, and I don't need that.

So baby girl of 21.5 months and I will nurse, and I'm not sure when we will stop. Her need might be different than my want, and I will learn humility and patience, and at times we will hopefully be able to transfer that need into other ways of love and balance and centering. But that's just it, love isn't easy is it? But we are better to have loved than not, right?

How does it all come together?

*Disclaimer: I am not trying to add to the Mommy wars, but am simply trying to make sense of what is in my head.

I read a book for a book club I was part of until recently when I decided it wasn't for me, it was called "Everything I Never Told You" and it was about a biracial family in a time period when that would have been thought of as not okay and a lot problems that stemmed from that. But besides that it featured a woman who was trying to be a medical doctor because she strived to be everything different than her mother a home-ec teacher. She wanted to stand out and break the mold in a field dominated by men at the time. A very women's equality situation. But then she fell in love, got pregnant, married and never finished and it hung over her head every day. There was even a one liner about birth control being developed around the same time, eluding that maybe this woman's life would have been everything she wanted because her children were a burden and derailed her from her dream. But honestly there were deeper issues with the characters in the book that birth control would have just masked instead of solved.

I have to say that this book made me anxious for a while. I had to sort through a lot of insecurities of my own. One being that I chose to be a stay at home mom for the most part (I teach part time now). I went and got a doctorate and then stayed at home. Most people might wonder why I did this, or maybe they don't care and that's okay too, I can be a bit boring I admit. :) But one of the main things I remember is that my own mom was a stay and at home mom for most of my child hood and I liked her being home with us. I liked that she was available and that she was engaging with us. And granted the latter probably doesn't have to be associated with at home moms, but for me, most of my positive learning memories came from her interactions with us and it made me not only want to stay at home but to want to homeschool. And I know she thinks I'm a little crazy sometimes, and we don't have the perfect relationship, but this staying at home with us and being there and engaged, well that was big to me.

For most of childhood me, I wanted to always prove that I was better than the boys. I played on the boys soccer teams, I did science Olympiad and any kind of activity that proved that I could be equal to a guy. And there was some underlying issues there too, but what was interesting was that I wasn't the only girl doing this. In some ways girls dominated the higher sciences. The girls were the presidents of the science clubs and the pre meds and the highest achievers of the crews. It never occurred to us for it to be different or for science to be a man's thing, very different world from the novel mentioned previously.

Even in grad school, in chemistry, the amount of women equaled the amount of men and it didn't feel like much was that different .... until you wanted to have a life outside of school. Wanting to get married, have children, those, well those were not talked about within the department or dealt with. And while every so often you might have a family friendly advisor, it wasn't normally so. I remember going to a seminar on how you could potentially have a family and remain in academia. Certain times were listed as better than others for having babies, but the consensus was that a lot of advisors frowned upon it because, well, it meant that it would take away from your research. Research meant money potential, research was supposed to be your life, family was second not super healthy family environment.

So growing up I told myself that I wasn't going to get married or have children because I was going to do something, in some ways I reminded myself of one of the protagonists in earlier mentioned book. I was set on working for NASA, I loved everything about space and space travel. I also very much enjoyed my small stint at NASA and hoped to make it career worthy. But deep down, I had something in me that wanted something different, deep down I wanted to get married and perhaps have children some day.

And what do you know, I found this guy the first week in grad school that kind of turned my facade on its head and made me think about my true feelings. And I wanted him and this all to stick. But it was scary because for so long I had put up this front, I went after guys that I didn't have a chance of having anything lasting before. But this one I married him, and I don't regret it one bit. And those children we have, well, they are amazing and so  challenging and yet so beautiful.

But there were many obstacles to climb, because I did condition myself to think elsewise, and I didn't want to let anyone down that I had told elsewise, a fault of mind. I want confident in my decision. I felt like I was a disappointment. So much money and time was spent on me to succeed and I wanted to run the other way. I think the only person's words that stuck with me in a positive way, oddly said to me when I still had my façade about career versus children and I had just put down someone for choosing children over a career, were simply that she wasn't wasting her education on her children, but instead was truly using it, it just might not look that way. Those words stuck with me and made me say to myself it's okay to want this.

So it's interesting now when I think about the struggle of career and children. I think I chose the right path for me. It's not that it's been all smooth sailing. For me, being a stay at home mom has been harder than getting a PhD. I've spent about the same time on both now, and its feels so very true to me. And then I've chosen to homeschool, so I'm probably just clinically insane for all this. But this craziness, this is right for me for right now.

The thing is that I don't think there is a one right path for everyone, as in a one size fits all kind of measure. In our insecurities, we want to know that what we chose is best, but to enforce that on another? I'm not sure that's best. And the culture may promote one choice more than another, and it may make us feel inferior for choosing differently, but that's not truth or love. And maybe if we remember just that and try to be us, the person God created us to be, maybe this world will be okay.

And there are good times too.

I have a personality that can easily be caught in the bad.  I have to remind myself that there are good things often or I get very whoa-is-me the world is ending or is hating me. So this post is to remind me of a few of those.

First, I've been enjoying lately all the kiddos crowded on my big bed reading bed time stories or telling bed time stories.  The kids have been into hearing stories about when they were littler, and I'm having to think how to make their lives into interesting stories for them to hear, and when I am able to do it well, they love it.

Next, its so good to have friends that you can talk to and don't mind listening and you in return don't mind listening to them.  Friends that understand that you are a sensitive soul and want to build you up instead of tear you down.  They are worth so much.

And despite the bad about the incident last week, I'm so thankful for good neighbors.  Ones that invite you into their home unannounced and share a peanut butter cup with you and let your children play freely with their own.  Ones that when you call them in a pickle they help you out of it by lending you a car seat so you can get to co-op and the doctor because your baby ended up with a double ear infection.  Or that the folks at the corner produce store know you well enough to feel comfortable giving you hand-me-down clothes for your children because they see you as a friend and they are watching your children grow right along with you.

And last, this.  The opportunity just to play and love.

To the person trying to illy do good

At 9am yesterday, I had two unexpected visitors.  Two police officers showed up at the side door.  They had gotten a call about suspicious behavior of a man in a red car talking to my children.  A concerned citizen thought that this dangerous person was trying to lure my children away from me.  But they weren't, in actuality, it was just my husband leaving for work and my children interacting with him in doing so.

So you see someone made a judgement, and said this looks not right, and thus called the police to intervene.  And while that would have been nice if there truly was something wrong, there wasn't. And honestly I think at least 9 times out of 10 (probably more like 999 of 1000) this has got to be the scenario. And it sheds a light on our society a bit, that we live in fear. To me that is unfortunate.

First, I want to say I wish I knew this neighbor better, because then they would know which cars we drive and who my non-scary husband is. But unfortunately, our world does not allow these types of interactions.  Instead we hole up in our houses and call police over a kid saying goodbye to his dad. Please dear neighbor come out of your house and come talk to me, I would love to know your story. And I do think that I have gotten to know quite a bit of my neighbors, we live in a highly walkable neighborhood full of people who do just that, but apparently not enough to prevent this.

Second, this bugs me so much in the extent that I feel like it plays into several mentalities that are wrong with America.  One, we value our freedom, but we don't value our neighbors freedom.  We would rather hide behind walls, and call in the authority and over-legislate to get what agenda we desire to accomplish.  Two, we feel the need to instantly judge. We are a land of impulse people.  We don't know what it is to wait for things, to really be patient with something, we instead think: Act fast, act now! despite how illy formed our judgement may be. We see someone disciplining their child differently than we would, and out comes the camera to shame this person and make their life hell.  We see someone being awkward and we snap photos and blast them on the internet.  Really people, stop it already.  Remember we are all humans, we need mercy and kindness, not shame.

Last, stranger danger is overblown.  That one case in a million people, we think that will happen to us, and instead of saying I'm going to be confident and trust God, we instead live in fear and fear monger those around us. I mean there's a whole website that is supposed to be centered around neighborhood folk getting to know one another, but stems down to the latest house break-in or car theft. I mean by all means, don't be stupid, because yes there are desperate people out there, but do we act like everyone is bad and we can't chance getting to know them, or do we live in a way that we see the good in everyone and try to establish a community where we truly help one another. I would much rather that, that one where I feel like I can't venture out of my house or let my kids play in my yard without a police call, wouldn't you?

All the feels

I'm not sure if its a parent thing, or a me thing or what I interpreted my parents being growing thing, but a lot times I struggle with getting to the point where the tears can come.  Maybe I'm too prideful to cry, but I know I need it.  It's been self proven that a good cry does me wonders with my stress.

Today was stressful. I got a call this morning that we should take Ben to the ER, his numbers for dehydration were pretty bad and they thought he should be further evaluated/rehydrated. A mama heart knows when something isn't right.  Even though I made sure he always had water and was drinking it slowly, his body wasn't keeping up.  He was lethargic, sleeping all day and complaining of stomach pain. To me following this recommendation made sense even if it meant I had to forgo teaching that morning to my Algebra students. And honestly, I struggle with letting go that sense of commitment, so to do that meant that I believed that he really needed more care and I couldn't give it to him at home.

And that's the first thing, there is such a tremendous feeling in our world to be in control of our children, and then things like this happen and you realize how much little control you really have.
Like despite your best efforts, bad things can still happen. And I want to say that's okay, but that seems harsh and not the right word. Instead right now it feels sort of sad, sad that you just have to watch sometimes and be patient.  I know that's God there, in control of it all, but still its just feels off somehow. Like despite my efforts to hydrate, he wad super dehydrated, and I couldn't do one thing about it except hand him over to people who could and pray that it would work out okay.

He's still there tonight, with his daddy.  And his daddy is the best person in the world for him to be with right now.  You see I was needed at home with the littler guys.  And my heart was pulled to let him go, but he's with my other half, the stronger one probably and he's going to be okay. I keep reminding myself of that.  And those little ones I had to leave, it breaks my heart every time I have do do so, I love them so, and yes, sometimes I need a break, but in circumstances like this, I want to hold on tight and never let them go.  So they get to sleep in mama's big bed tonight.  And I think they like that at least.

Sometimes, it feels like I can't catch up or catch a break.  It feels like we go from one medical issue to another, from broken bone, to anxiety, to dehydration. It's rough over in the Kurak household.  But maybe God is teaching me something.  Maybe he wants us as a collective family unit to just...slow...down. To come back together and just be with each other. Not plan a trip or entertain guests for a bit, but just be us together, enjoying the gifts of each other.  I love my friends, I do.  But we all need breaks sometimes and maybe God is just making this be our time for that. Maybe I just need to be more and do less. To not be a slave to the schedule. Order and structure are great, but to really know someone, I think we have to break it sometimes.

So when I spent a good amount of the day with my biggest guy, it was good just to sit and knit and talk.  I secretly love that he's been requesting to be read to while sick. It warms my heart so much, because its one thing I can do for him and I love it. But a lot of time the reading aloud it gets overlooked when there is too much going on, and I miss it when it does.

My hardest part of the day was watching the PIC line be put into him.  He writhed and hated it so much. It was really tough to see something so medical be done to my baby.  I keep returning to the thought that I haven't even had that done to me.  I've managed to never need it in giving birth and I'm grateful because I'm a wimp when it comes to these things. To anyone who has had a PIC line put in,  you all are amazing rock stars, every single one of you. I mean that because it was just awful to see someone so dear to me be in pain.  Though I guess, he has been in pain all along, but it felt forced, even if it had to be and the people doing it were super gracious.  It just was hard to witness.

And so tomorrow we will see what comes of his hospital overnight stay.  Will he go home?  We hope so, signs are pointing to yes.  But I'll still pray because God might have something else in mind.  So if you can pray too, I would love that. I hope my rambles weren't too much this evening. :)

Loving that there are Land Before Time DVDs

Suckerpunched

Right now I am feeling sucker punched by anxiety. Things that were becoming easy no longer are. It sucks. I've started a novena and am trying to take time to rest but it's a slow process and I never like it.

You see we just had friends stay with us. They are awesome friends, we love them and they are super people who lift you up and not down so one would think that having them stay would be okay.

But somehow my body didn't like it. Instead the day after they left, I had a full blown panic attack like I never had before. My heart was racing with a pulse of 130-150 for at least a good half hour if not longer. I was completely aware and yet out of control of my body doing this. I did nothing to trigger it at that moment, instead I was gardening and about to peacefully walk home with the kids.

It was awful and I hated it so much because I was helpless. I called my brother and SIL for advice and all the while the baby is upset that I don't want her near me. We talk my brother who struggles also with anxiety tells me that's it's a panic attack and I don't understand, I just want it to be gone. Finally I give in to nursing the baby despite being out of sorts.

And you know what that little girl saved me, nursing her almost immediately calmed my heart rate. I am ever so thankful.

It's amazing how the thing we think causes the mess might actually be the saving grace. The child who we give so much to and we hardly feel like appreciates it, at least in our adult minds, can just be so good for us. To break us of our destruction of self. They do love us, so very much and yes sometimes we can see it, but in the taking so much from us and us giving so much it's hard to see it a lot of times. This one time, I don't think I'll ever forget. 

And so, having that experience has set on a whole new wave of anxiety and it sucks. I'm taking my steps to get it under control/figure out what to change and let go, but it takes time and is an uphill battle a bit. It's opened up some new wounds, or some pieces of me that I struggle with as we all do have our struggles. Through it I try to remind myself God is there and he won't let me down through this. And that will get me through another day.

Humility

It's been a while since I've written on here.  New adventures with schooling and teaching have led the blog to be on the back burner for a while.  I'm currently stuck under a sleeping baby, which would normally constitute a nap, but I'm the worst at napping, so blogging it is.

There have been many things on my mind lately some of them being the notion of people as products in our society, reading and kindergarten, letting go of rigidness, and humility.  The last one is one that I thought I could share a few thoughts on today.

I am someone who loves praise, it makes me feel good.  At the same time I'm constantly praying for humility because well I know I shouldn't be wanting that praise from others but instead should be striving for it from God.  I think sometimes pride, that annoying root quality, gets the best of me in things and it makes me think I'm awesome and people should love me.

But the thing is while I am awesome because God made me, (and you are awesome too because God made you too), I shouldn't be thinking of others liking me as the end all be all that my head sometimes, or honestly a lot of the time plays games with me about. To esteem the approval of others means I'm only going to be unhappy when they let me down. And this is where humility comes in.

I think one of the reasons I am always trying to discern inclusion of social media in my life, or rather the getting rid of it, is that for me it can cause me to spiral down this path of questioning my worth. Its actually a good reminder for me on the days when people don't interact with me or like my stuff that I shouldn't be looking for approval from others. Instead I should be okay with and maybe even get to the point of uniting this feeling with Christ and grow with him. That would be the ultimate goal at least.

So, that's where I'm at today. Enjoy your Sunday!