Momma, When You Feel “Touched Out”

This is a picture my 6yr old daughter snapped of me breastfeeding my 2yr old son, while heavily pregnant. I love what this picture captures, his smile at me and my joy in him. I also love that my daughter decided to take the photo. But breastfeeding through my 5th pregnancy has been challenging in many ways, especially when it comes to feeling “touched out”.IMG_E0307

 

Sometimes, all I want is for the little ones to not need me so much! 

Sometimes, I have to tell my son “not now” when he asks to nurse (and that is okay too).

Sometimes, I need half an hour to myself without the children on me, before I can relax with my husband.

All of this is true, but I want to remind you touched out mommas (and myself) of some very important things…

  • You are so very important to these little people in your life! Your babies, toddlers, and children need you. There will never be another time when simply being with YOU is so incredibly calming for them. Your touch, your kisses, your milk, your lap; you are giving them the love they need. The world may not recognize the work you are doing, but it is so important. Don’t lose sight of that.
  • The older children are watching you, and your love is a gift to them too. Those of you with children of multiple ages, you are giving them an incredible living example of what loving sacrifice looks like. Every time you rock a crying baby, sooth an upset 3yr old, and nurse a tired toddler. Every time you scoop them into your lap and read them a story. Every time you forget about that tea you had to heat up for the third time, because you were too busy giving. Every time momma, they see it. It matters.
  • It really does not last forever. They will grow taller, leaner, and more self reliant. They won’t wake you up at night to cuddle. They won’t beg you for one more story. They won’t cry for you to carry them on your tired hips. They won’t need your presence the same way they do now. But, these days will have built a solid foundation within them. They will still know and rely on your love, and your strength will become their own. They won’t always need you like this, but your sacrifices will always matter.

It may not seem like much more than a whirlwind of tasks some days. Running from mess to mess, child to child, meeting the needs all around you all the time. You finally fall into some sort of sleep, tired and TOUCHED OUT.

But momma, it IS sacred work. Raising these beautiful babies is a higher calling. It is something pure, wonderful, and holy. Often the most holy moments are caught in the most mundane and routine tasks of care-giving. It is humbling work. It changes you daily, in ways you may not realize just yet.

So, yes, put those feet up when you can. Give yourself time, and rest.

But remember what an important, and fleeting time this is.

Shalom.

 

 

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Parenting an Angry Child

Let me start at the beginning.

I was so excited to have another baby. Soon, I would have two baby girls! My second child was my first natural birth. She was tiny! She opened her eyes and looked right into mine, and I fell in love right away.

At six months old, she would close her fists and her face would get red with anger if she didn’t want to be put in her carseat. I joked that she had the fiery temper of her Latina/Italian heritage.

She grew into the incredible, intelligent, strong 5 year old girl she is today. Long blonde hair, big brown eyes that turn into laughing half moons when she is happy. My beautiful girl whose name means “light of God”; Liora.

But, her anger has only grown with her age.

I have felt helpless, hopeless, desperate, and depressed. I have felt insecure, inadequate, and incapable.

I have held her strong little body as she flung her fists at me, raging at me until she collapses into a heap of sobs.

It could be smiles one moment, and rage the next. Playing one moment, hurting the next. Toys have been hurled at my head. Her finger nails have broken my skin. Her words have sunk into my heart like a knife; “I hate you”, “your not my real mother”, “you don’t love me, nobody loves me”.

Of course, I know it isn’t true. I know that she needs me more than she can express. I know she hates her explosive anger more than I do.

Lately, she has described her anger to me like this;

“My anger is a person who holds me down and wont let me walk away.”

“My anger is like a remote control.”

She wants walk away. She wants to be in control. She comes to me in tears after the anger flees her body and her true self is back in control; sorry. So sorry.

It impacts her big sister, who cries to me about why her sister isn’t nice.

It impacts her little sister, who is starting to imitate some of her behaviors.

We have gone to therapy, and tried many different things. Right now, we are focusing on being loving and firm. She needs those limits. She needs to understand that she cannot hurt people, even when she is really angry. But she also needs to know that she is LOVED.

It impacts her self image. Somtimes, she sees herself a bad kid. She thinks God doesn’t love her, neither do her parents. That breaks my heart more than any little fist she has thrown at me.

It is this impossible balance of love and discipline. It is this terrible fear of “am I doing the right thing for her?”

Raising a child who has explosive anger is a path I did not plan to walk, but here I am.

In my nightmares, she doesn’t get better. In my nightmares, she is 15 and hates me.

But, in my dreams she overcomes her emotions. She is strong and powerful, but gentle and kind. Despite her anger, she is deeply sensitive and loving. I believe in her, and I will never give up helping her.

For now, it is one day at a time.

Shalom.

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My Unassisted Baby Turns 1 Years Old Today!

One year ago today, at exactly this time, I was in intense labor. I held my husbands hands, as he sat in front of me. I leaned my sweaty head into his chest and moaned “oooooOOOOOOOooooo”. I breathed, I swayed, I moved around. I cried. I was brave. And then, he was here. I can close my eyes and smell his birth, and feel his wet head against my chest. I was elated! My son! My only son! My fourth baby.My husband and I were in awe over this tiny being we made and brought into the world together. His three big sisters came with Nana to meet him the next day, and he has been their loved baby brother every since. We became a family of six! 86220161013_191005

 

We went through 2 difficult months of colic, then he blossomed into a baby who wanted to see the world around him. He always wanted to be held facing outward, never wanting to miss any action.

He learned to roll over, and crawl with his sisters encouragement. He started playing with toys and interacting with his sisters.

Now, he is 1 and his two front teeth on the top and bottom popped out just this week after months of teething! He starting to take steps on his own, and will soon be walking (then, I am sure, RUNNING) after his sisters.

Markos Lorenzo, my first freebirth and my first baby boy; you are so loved! I cherish you with my whole heart, and so does Daddy and your sisters. I look forward to our many adventures and learning together as you grow.

Love,

Momma

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Can Moms of Small Children Still Follow Their Dreams?

Can moms of small children still follow their dreams?

I often hear from fellow mothers of small children that they are overwhelmed and stressed out. I nod my head in agreement, I feel ya. We are doing a lot, every day, and without much time to ourselves. Many days, we are lucky to be able to pee alone. So, it would be outrageous to suggest that we can follow our dreams, right? Right? Wrong!

We do not have to put our passions on the back-burner. We do not have to sacrifice our time with our small children either. Finding that balance is key, and it IS possible!

I am 29 years old, and I have been slowly taking college classes for a decade. I didn’t begin college in earnest until two years ago, but it has been a long journey. I have four children, ages 6 years old thru 10 months. I also choose to homeschool them, so I do not have a break during school hours. I am following my dreams of becoming a nurse, midwife, and doula professional.

If I were younger and childless, I would have gone to college full time years ago. I would have been done much faster. Instead, I have taken only two classes each semester and I took one semester off because of the birth of my fourth child. I could have gone back to school, but I wanted to spend time with him and help our family adjust to the newest member. I will enter nursing school in exactly 17 months. I’ll take night classes, so I can homeschool during the day. My husband will work during the day and watch the kids at night.

Will it be easy? No. Will I ever sleep? Unlikely. Are my dreams worth it? Abso-freaking-lutely!

I have had to evaluate for myself, what is most important to me? For me, being home often with my children and homeschooling is not negotiable. It is extremely important to me. In the past, I focused solely on being a stay at home mom, and my career and passions took a backseat. Now, I am learning how to navigate both. It is important to me that I further my education, pursue my passions for women’s health and birth, and have my own career and business. It matters to me as a woman to do all those things.

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I have learned to have my heart at home and follow my heart for my own dreams. It can be done. I also have another dream; that mothers would come together in encouragement and support for one another. It truly does take a village.

Yes, we are exhausted. Yes, it is at times daunting and difficult. But yes, we can follow our dreams while nurturing our small children. I look forward to the incredible things we will do for the world, through work and through raising our children.

What is your dream?

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I Want to be Gentle, but I Get Angry

She’s 4 years old and she doesn’t want to listen. Or, maybe she can’t listen? The second of four children, always striving to be heard. You were always the angry one, temper flaring. At 6 months old you furrowed your brow and your face turned red when I upset you.

You’re also the one who needs me at night. Monsters can’t reach you when your legs are against me, and your arms are around me. As if I have some super mommy power to keep you safe and secure.

I feel like a big liar, because half the time I’m the monster.

You don’t like to listen. Or, maybe you struggle to listen? I don’t know. But I do know my anger swells inside of me like a tsunami after I. Told. You. TEN. TIMES. ALREADY!

Then, your eyes spring with tears and you rush to me. You cling to me “momma!” You need to know that I love you when I’m mad.

Just moments before, you are so defiant. Like a teeny, tiny tree with the strongest roots. Your feet are planted and your will is unmovable.

That is when I break. I threaten. I insist. I yell. My face changes from loving mommy with the super powers to…what? The monster?

I keep my hands from hitting you, but my words smack against you with force.

And then, you’re no longer that defiant and firmly planted little tree. You’re a branch being broken off and swept away on the wind. You reach out for me, desperate to hold on.

Sometimes, I reach out my hand right away. Sometimes, I break inside and I curse myself for losing my patience with you. Then, I take your body into my lap and stroke your hair.

I am sorry. I am so sorry.

Other times, I force my body to comfort you but my heart is still engulfed in the fire of my rage. It takes time. As I stroke your hair, as I stroke the soft skin of your arms, my heart begins to cool down. I love her so much, I think to myself. So much.
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Then, why is it so hard? Why is it so damn hard?

How can such a tiny person, whom I love more than all the stars and moons and planets and skies and seas, get me so angry? Why must I twist my face and point my finger in anger?

I seek a break when I need one. I’ve read all the books on being gentle, and I believe them. I have come far from where I once was, but still I can’t kill this angry thing I become.

A child’s heart is a fragile thing. It needs tenderness, love, and patience. When it breaks, it makes the saddest sound the earth has ever known, that pained “momma?”

I’m willing to learn. I will try every trick in the book. I will move mountains, I will dive deep. Just tell me. Tell me how to kill that nasty anger. Tell me how to handle my strong-willed, beautiful child’s heart with care.

Because I love her, and she deserves my best. All my children do.

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