I forgot to share this video when I freebirthed (unassisted homebirth)my first son (fourth baby! It was truly magical to be home with just me and my husband.
meeting my freebirth baby
Advertisements
My daughter’s Zoo Birthday Party
My oldest child, Miss Noemi Rose, turned 7! She loves giraffes and all animals, so she asked for a party at the zoo. We went to the Turtle Back Zoo in South Orange NJ. I can’t believe my first baby is 7 now. She is intelligent, beautiful, and a wonderful help to me. I couldn’t ask for a better firstborn 😉
I have to say, the turtle back zoo was really fun and all the kids had a blast. We we definitely be going back to see the animals we didn’t get the chance to see.
Shalom!
The Winter Beach and the Wallaby
A few weeks ago I took the kids to visit my Aunt, and my cousin and his girlfriend, who are expecting their first baby. I am very close to my cousin, who is “Uncle Colin” to my kids, and his baby (its a GIRL) will be my first niece of sorts. They recently moved down to south NJ and we stayed for the weekend.
There were many fun adventures for the girls to go on but Markos wanted me to hold him all day, expect for when the huge puppy they recently adopted was around; he stuck his entire hand into the dogs mouth! We don’t own pets so I suppose he wanted to figure out what those teeth were! Thankfully, he is a big sweet dog and nobody got hurt (drool not withstanding).
Uncle Colin played his guitar for the girls, and I talked about having babies with Alysha, his girlfriend.
The next day, we went to the beach since it was only 20 minutes away from her house. It was cold, but that didnt bother the girls at all. Markos napped in my arms and in my Aunts arms, while the girls ran with the dog and collected bags full of seashells. There is something about the beauty and peacefulness of the ocean that always sets my heart at ease (despite my frown, the sun was in my eyes!).
Later, after we went back to my aunts house, we met her neighbors we had heard much about. It turned out that we actually have friends in common, it is a small homeschooling world. The girls played with their 8 year old daughter who gave details about their recent trip to India, and I was ecstatic to meet their pet WALLABY! (or “wallabean” according to my daughter) Here was this wallaby bouncing around their yard! I was
much more excited than the kids were. I was told that he was a rescue (who rescues freaking wallabies?) and he goes in and out a doggie door, and he enjoys peanut butter crackers. I love the wallaby, and hope to visit again haha!
It was a fun weekend, and I will update on more wallaby and dog adventures at Aunt.Pam’s house.
Shalom.
I Feel Lately Like…I Fail at Life
Pile of unfolded laundry on my bed. Mountains of half finished homeschool work on the table. A plastic cup with a sad little rock in water (“crystal growing project” for my 6yr old). A backpack filled with microbiology and chemistry books that I have not opened even half as often as should. Tempers flaring. Boobs hurting from 16 month old boob barnacle. You get the picture?
Lately, I want to throw up my hands. Raise the white flag. Surrender.
Everywhere my exhausted eyes look, I see evidence of my failure. Housework? Fail. Schoolwork? Fail. Parenting? Fail.
The truth is, I have overloaded myself. I have too much on my plate. I thought that I could do it all, but then life threw us some curve-balls. I was not expecting so little time to study, but situations have come up that we could not have known. My relationship with my mother, my once biggest support person, is terribly strained. I am not getting the breaks that I am used to.
I have lot of on my mind.
And, frankly…I am sick of being in college myself. Nursing has been my goal, and now I am on my last semester before nursing school. But, my heart is not quite in it anymore. I need to be focused on my kids, at home.
So, here I am. Feeling pretty fail-y. But still trying. Still getting up after 5 hours of “sleep” with my toddler’s boob death grip.
I can not wait for May!
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.
Letting Your Kids Get MESSY
Winter is winding down, slowly warming up for the newness of spring. Here in New Jersey, we had 6in of snowfall followed immediately by warm weather. Our backyard changed from a pile of snow, to a sheet of ice, to mushy mud galore.
So, what does a homeschooling family do when the weather magically turns from stuck-inside-freazing to welcome-spring-warm? Get MESSY of course!
Put those workbooks away kids, it’s time to play in the mud!
Some sad, unfortunate barbie mermaids were abandoned outside since summertime, the girl decided they needed a soapy bath.
Markos joined in the fun, playing with water and mud.
Everyone got a nice bath afterwards!
The joys of springtime are near 🙂
L
The Visceral Empathy of Motherhood; Krim Children Murders
I was checking the news tonight when I saw two little faces staring back at me from the screen. Two beautiful children, a 6yr old girl and 2yr old boy. I have never met them, but I recognized their faces immediately; Lucia “Lulu” and Leo Krim. Their nanny brutally killed them in 2012, she will finally face a trial for what she has done.(Â read about it here)
There are so many innocent children who are hurt and killed. The news is filled with their horror stories. Each and every one of them hurts me, and to be honest, I often avoid reading about them because it hurts so much. But some of these stories really stick with me, I can think of a few that have seared into my heart and mind forever; Lulu and her brother Leo are two of them.
Maybe it is because they remind me of my children. Maybe it is because they were killed in such a terrible way. Maybe it is because of how tremendously senseless their murders were. But, all murders of children are senseless and horrifying. I can’t say exactly what it is, but I cried immediately upon seeing those babies faces again.
In my nightmares, I imagine what their poor mother endured finding their bodies. It chills me and turns my stomach. I shake my head as if to shake away the thoughts themselves. I can’t fathom the strength it has taken for their parents to survive this ordeal; I imagine their surviving daughter was the anchor that kept them afloat.
I think all sane adults are horrified by the murder of children. There is an innate sense of outrage when the innocent among us are harmed. Yet, ever since I became a mother, that outrage and pain is felt on entirely new level. It is as if my entire nervous system has been fundamentally altered after giving birth. My heart has been transformed into a mothers heart; and nothing is felt the same way again.
It is all so vivid in its terrifying detail. You cannot help but feel an intense need to rush to your own children and hold them close. You cannot help but feel the lurch in your stomach and the anxiety tear through you at the thought of what happened to these children. It is as if it is YOUR children, yet that thought is so terrifying you desperately try to push it from your mind before it is even fully thought.
But, in my bones and in my blood, I am a mother. It goes without saying, that I would die for my own children without hesitation or forethought; but what is even crazier is that I would do the same for a child I do not even know. I would jump in front of a truck for ANY child, and I do not know if I would have done so with such willingness before becoming a mother. I see each child as someone I am maternally protective of. I see each mother as a woman who I understand, because we are mothers, we share the same heart.
The hearts of mothers all share in the incredible joy, the frightening worry, the hopes, the dreams, the tiring work. We share something deep, a commonality that is ancient and immutable. Mothers.
I feel that way towards Mrs.Krim. I do not know her, and I may never meet her; but if I did, I would hug her and cry. I would not even speak more words than my tears with her tears, because that is all I need to say. I feel her heart in mine, and mine in hers. I see my children in hers, and her in mine.
Shalom.
