Mama In the City

January 18th, 2010 by Diana
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Here’s the big news of 2010:

yoga-tree poseI’m going to New York!  Without my children.  Alone and FREE!  Will everyone survive?  I hope so.  Am I ready?  Hell yeah.

Yes, this country mouse is headed to New York City, as us Vermonters call the Big Apple.  If all goes well, I will take the train down from New Haven on Friday afternoon and spend the weekend attending an Ashtanga Yoga workshop at Kula Yoga Project, a funky, fun, creative vinyasa studio downtown.

I have heard about this place for years and have only dreamed of going.  Now the dream comes true, if I have the guts and the good luck to carry it out.

Perhaps there are 2 camps of readers:  those who think I’m a cold, heartless mother who would abandon her young children and husband for a self- indulgent weekend of yoga.

And those who wonder:  Would she just quit worrying and go study yoga already?

split headstandT. has been telling me to “Book a Yoga Training” for months now.  And for one reason or another, the timing has not been right.  But now the stars have aligned and everything’s coming together.

A and C and T will be fine– they may even thrive in my absence.  I’ve told them I’ll bring back bagels from New York.  Or maybe some kind of interesting cookies.

But I wonder what will happen to C’s “snackies”?  I was lying awake at 5 am today, my heart flooded with sadness, thinking that this trip could be the end of nursing.  Will I come back from the city to a weaned toddler?

Somehow I don’t think it will happen so abruptly, if neither of us want it to.  And if it does, it was meant to be. But I’m not ready to cut off that relationship over 48 hours.  I need some talking about the process, talker that I am.

Today I said to C:  ”Can you have cow-milk in a sippy cup when I’m gone?” and she looked at me blankly.  She tells us daily, “I’m Two and a HALF!”  (in a few weeks).  A big, strong strapping girl who sometimes wears Elmo panties rather than a diaper.  She’ll be fine.

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to all the forces that have conspired to make this trip possible.  Especially my beloved husband, without whose generosity and encouragement there would be no traveling at all.

My old fearless sense of adventure, so strong in my early 20s, is welling up again.  ”Anything could happen,” I used to think. Maybe that still holds true.

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On Love and Discipline

January 11th, 2010 by Diana
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Mommy with girlsDo you recall being spanked as a child?  My mother claims we were never spanked, but a haze of nostalgia must cloud her memory.

Cut to my grandparents’ log cabin during extended-family vacation, when after-dinner rough-housing pushed my father to his limit. Typically loving and silly, my father roared like a grizzly when angered, thundering upstairs to punish us.  He placed me, then my little brother, across his lap– delivering a firm, quick paddle.

Sobbing from humiliation, I waited in bed for someone to come soothe me.  What naughtiness had we done?  Did the events happen once or a handful of times?  My memory blurs, but I don’t think I suffered any psychological trauma.

Now as a mother of two, I’ve never contemplated spanking as a form of discipline.  After all, the American Academy of Pediatrics states that corporal punishment is of limited effectiveness, and recommends that parents “be encouraged and assisted in the development of methods other than spanking for managing undesired behavior.”

"NO!"

"NO!"

But I haven’t discovered such methods myself.  There’s no clear discipline strategy in our house.  I end up doing a lot of explaining, pleading and inconsistent Time Outs– while trying not to lose the hot temper I inherited from my dad.  My anger flares up at incessant four-year-old whining, then rages at the toddler’s deliberate destruction.

I try to give my children fair warning:  “Mommy’s losing her patience.  She doesn’t want to yell, but if there’s no cooperation, she might have no choice.”

But parents always have a choice.  With the proper skills, mindfulness, and deep breathing, we can rein in our worst impulses.  We can work on improving our patience (never one of my strong suits).  We can use clever tricks like sticker charts to encourage good behavior.  We can hold family meetings and talk about our issues.  Right?

Not according to John Rosemund.

Rosemund is a family psychologist who takes a self-described “traditional” view of parenting.  He writes a Q & A-style syndicated parenting column called “Living With Children.”  A more accurate title would be “Controlling Your Children.” Rosemund is controversial for not opposing spanking, and frequently urges parents to “put the proverbial hammer down.”

In Rosemund’s world, if a picky eater doesn’t like the family dinner, that child should go to bed hungry.  In my world, that child gets Mommy and Daddy to short-order cook for her, rushing around the kitchen fixing a bagel with cream cheese.

In Rosemund’s world, if a toddler wakes up at night crying, that child is told– lovingly but firmly–  that she must remain in her own bed.  In my world, said toddler comes to sleep between Mommy and Daddy and kicks like a mountain goat.

No I won't open my eyes for the camera

I won't look at the camera

But something in Rosemund’s approach resonated with me.  Could I weave some of his discipline tricks into my affectionate, indulgent, inconsistent parenting style?  Rosemund claims that today’s climate of parental permissiveness originated in the early 70s, when the American family became a democracy– each member having one vote.  In a democratic family, parents treat their children as equals, showing them respect and developing their self-esteem by giving them equal voice in setting rules, chores, privileges, etc.

But Rosemund advocates an alternate form of family government– a “benevolent dictatorship.” Parents should be both loving and authoritative, he says, because love and authority are two sides of the same coin.

“There is widespread tendency to regard love as a positive force, and authority or discipline as a negative, potentially destructive one,” writes Rosemund in ‘The Voice of Authority.’  ”This notion that love is somehow more valuable to a child’s upbringing than discipline is what I term “The Great Misunderstanding.”  The facts are: First, you cannot effectively communicate your love to a child unless you are also a source of effective authority.  Second, you cannot effectively discipline unless you are also a source of genuine love.”

Sounds good, right?

But how does one apply this philosophy to a willful 2-year-old who deliberately dumps her Smoothie on the floor, or a 4-year-old who refuses to get dressed for school?  How to be lovingly authoritative in the moment?

I could try to become the mother John Rosemund wants me to be.  I could read every guilt-inducing parenting book on the shelf. Or I could relax and listen to my Uncle Jamie.

Jamie is a child psychologist and father of three who advocates “Floor Time” as the key to discipline.  No, not a Time Out on the floor, but parent and child playing together on the floor!  Jamie surprises his clients when he tells them:  “The single best behavioral strategy for managing your child is… PLAY WITH HER A LOT.”

If a child feels pleasure in her parent’s attention and loving connection, says my uncle, she will be invested in keeping that relationship going.  I consider the last time I sat down to play with Ava.  Before her sister arrived, it happened many times a day.  Now it is a rare occurrence, often fraught with sibling conflict.

I could list a thousand reasons why I’m too busy, or I could simply start playing.  Rather than becoming a benevolent dictator, I resolve to take my uncle’s advice.  Play more, yell less.  And pray for patience.

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Cabin Fever 2: How To Survive January

January 9th, 2010 by Diana
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Last winter was rough.  I felt like I spent weeks cooped up indoors with a warmth-loving 3-year-old and a wild-monster 1-year old.

10 degrees and swinging

Winter fun?

It’s true, my oldest is something of a hothouse flower.  She loves heat and being naked.

She’d probably thrive in Southern Florida, but she’s going to have to wait till college for that lifestyle.

Just when I despair that A will never share her parents’ love of vigorous, outdoor winter activities, I catch myself.  Bitter cold, ice and snow are inherently challenging for small children.

Other people’s kids may play happily for hours in 18-degree howling winds, but not my two.

A and C prefer doing naked somersaults, flips and headstands on the bed– games which come naturally to them and require no extensive bundling or weather-beaten toughness.

So why start a battle over cross-country skiing at ages 2 and 4?

At the one-year anniversary of my very first Spilt Milk column (”Cabin Fever“), we are surviving winter (a bit) more smoothly.  The change is not momentous.  One year later, I still get cabin fever every afternoon and need to devise tricks to get the girls outside.

Mommy’s Sanity-Saving Winter Tricks:

A at mailbox1.  Maybe there’s a package in the mailbox…

2.  Let’s check the chickens and make sure their combs haven’t fallen off from frostbite!

3. How about swinging on the playset!

4.  I’ll pull you fast on the snow-tube…

5. Let’s make a Snow Kitty (Bunny/ Unicorn/ Fairy)!

6.  CHOCOLATE CHIPS!

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Winter Lemonade Stand

January 7th, 2010 by Diana
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Nothing like a houseful of girls to keep things lively.

A, I, and C have a Lemonade Stand

A, I, and C have a Lemonade Stand

During the holiday, A’s best friend from preschool, I, came over for a playdate.  It was a glorious, sunny, blue-and-white winter afternoon, but the girls wanted to stay indoors.  They dressed up as Fairy Princesses and set up a Lemonade Stand in the playroom.

I might rather have been out on a 3-hour classic ski through the woods or doing Ashtanga Primary Series in a serene yoga studio, but I still enjoyed putting fake pennies in a jar to drink a pretend cup of lemonade.

Amazing what joy the world of fantasy brings to young children!  It’s contagious.

As playdates go, this one qualified as a success.  Despite A initially refusing to let C play, then C refusing to take a nap and climbing out of her crib– suddenly, a naked toddler appears downstairs!– the afternoon resolved with pink satin harmony.

Plus, I got to hang out with I’s very cool mom, who inspires me with her funky fashion sense and career focus.

I realize I’ve been wary of playdates because three’s a crowd– and A and C are often enough to handle alone.  But now I see that they are well worth the risk of sibling conflict.  Here’s to friends!

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For Better or For What?

January 3rd, 2010 by Diana
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Married, With Children (summer 2008)

Married, With Children (summer 2008)

As the country debates Marriage as an institution, I consider the state of my own union.

Tonight C. nursed to sleep in my arms after a night away.  Such sweet reunion.  Sometimes she likes to take my lower lip in her mouth and suck on it, laughing.

Later, A. wrote me a card because she knew I was sad:

“DIANA I LOVE YOU” printed in big red letters.

As we lay snuggling in her bed, she traced her fingers over my eyebrows and played with my hair.  All the intimacy I once shared with my husband seems to have been displaced onto our children.

Despite another read-through of the bible of my second pregnancy, Babyproofing Your Marriage, I am at a loss.  Where do we go from here?

I wish I remembered that 80s TV show, “Married With Children,” because the three words keep running through my head. Were those screen parents happily, romantically in love?  Was it all a crock?

I don’t know any couple with 2 (or more) young children who seem particularly blissful.  We’re all in over our heads, trying to keep the kids fed and the house clean, trying to get enough sleep and pay the mortgage, get through the daily routine and carve out precious personal time for ourselves, let alone with our spouses.

But what happens when you get that alone time and you have nothing kind to say to each other?  What happens when affection is gone, forget about romance.

I don’t know what I expected when my father told me (years ago) that marriage takes a lot of hard work.  I thought– “maybe for other people, but WE’re different.”  Or, “That’s okay, I’m up for the challenge.”

Bottom line:  I am still up for the challenge.  But to meet it, I need help.  I need support, friendship.  A big hug, not even a kiss.

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Feeding Sugar Kitty

January 2nd, 2010 by Diana
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Sugar Kitty C with shades

Sugar Kitty C with shades

I was on the radio last week!

Lots of fun and lots of hard work.  The recording session took nearly 2 hours of intense coaching, articulation, and repeating sentences to get the tone and emphasis just right.

To listen to my commentary on VPR, click here and go to LISTEN.

This 3 minute, 14 second commentary started out as a column (”Sugar Kitty“) but was mercilessly edited into radio format.  Hopefully I can learn from the process and do it all again.

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Ho Ho Hoax

December 27th, 2009 by Diana
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I don’t know what to do about Santa.

A on Christmas- treeAt age 4, Ava has fully grasped what happens on Christmas.  The anticipation of presents has whipped her into a Christmas frenzy, nearly equal to my own holiday stress.

While I worry about shopping, spending, wrapping, decorating, and not baking enough cookies, my daughter writes out party invitations and makes her lists.

Last year we didn’t even talk about Santa, but now he is everywhere.  In books, songs, stores, and front yards.  Eyes wide with perceived magic, Ava drinks in every word.  This is innocence, I think– trusting the parents who are deliberately misleading you.

As a mother, I’ve told my share of white lies and have stretched the truth for a noble cause (”If you don’t brush your teeth, the sugar will rot holes in them…”).  But something about Santa feels wrong to me. [Read more →]

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Holiday Stuff: A Horror Story

December 23rd, 2009 by Diana
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Winter fills the house with STUFF.  Some of it necessary, some frivolous.

A with stuffIt’s 5 degrees outside, and indoors, A and C wreak havoc through the rooms, strewing toys and clothes everywhere.  They sneak into every closet, drag out their summer sundresses and bags of old STUFF I’d set aside to give away.

They unroll all the wrapping paper and play with their hidden Christmas presents.

We are drowning in our possessions.  We don’t need anything more.

Come in the front door, and trip over winter boots, snowsuits, discarded hats and mittens.  Preschool artwork, blocks, trains underfoot.  Madly I try to maintain order– tidying up, recycling, throwing plastic crap away.  But entropy is the law here:  the STUFF creeps back and multiplies.

Meanwhile we make our Christmas lists:  more toys, more STUFF to cram in the house.  I vow not to get anything for my children, but it’s Christmas and I want to give them gifts.

The urge to simplify fights the impulse to give.  My girls adore STUFF, especially A.  How easy to abandon all resistance, jump into the rushing river of holiday spending and let myself be swept away.  Maybe the guilt and anxiety over our financial struggles will dissolve like so much sugar in the process.

Yeah right.

Meanwhile, an image continues to haunt me:

“Few of us can imagine ourselves involved in deranged acts of violence, but we all know how newspapers and magazines can stack up, how “collectibles” can accumulate.  It’s not much of a stretch to imagine ourselves the hapless victims of our possessions– paralyzed by things we’re unable to sort out and discard, annihilated by our affluence, crushed by our consumerism.

How else to explain our ongoing fascination with the Collyer brothers, Langley and Homer, whose decaying bodies were discovered in the spring of 1947 amid more than one hundred tons of trash in their family brownstone?”

-Joyce Carol Oats, “Love and Squalor,” book review in The New Yorker, September 7, 2009

This story serves as a warning to me.  For every new thing we get, we must give or throw something away.  And when we move and downsize, as we will before long, we will get rid of even more.  The girls will adjust.  They may even be relieved.

I know I will be.

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Spilt Milk on the Radio!

December 18th, 2009 by Diana
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I’m thrilled– I’m going to be on Vermont Public Radio over the holidays!  After nearly 1o months of writing my column, it’s finally going somewhere other than this blog (and of course the Brattleboro Reformer).

I don’t want to jinx anything, but it looks like I’ll be driving up to the VPR studio in Norwich, VT to record a holiday version of Sugar Kitty. I’ll let you know how it goes.

WOW. Hopefully my writing will gather some momentum from the radio experience…  Even though today I decided I wanted to work towards opening my own Ashtanga Yoga Studio (like Michelle Ryan’s amazing new studio, Florence Yoga)!  But I think the two paths (yoga and writing) can reinforce each other, rather than detract from each other.

Thank you to everyone who has encouraged and believed in me– especially Tim, my writing salon friends, and the awe-inspiring Suzanne Kingsbury.

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Toddler War

December 17th, 2009 by Diana
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At a loss what to get the children in your life this holiday season?

C close up, doorTry the latest toy craze— Zhu Zhu pets, fuzzy electronic hamsters that mimic the intelligent responses of live animals. Said hamsters love to play and explore the house, making 40 different noises, purring when you stroke them.

My 4-year-old periodically asks for a kitten, so perhaps a Zhu Zhu is the next best thing— playful affection without any mess or work. Simply press the OFF button when you tire of it, and the creature shuts down.

img_1519Lately I wish I could turn off my two-year-old. Just for a few hours—or a few days.   [Read more →]

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