It’s the return of ControverSunday! Woohoo and there was much rejoicing! If you’d like to join in (just jump in and join us! It’s what I did), just write something up, grab the badge from Accidents‘ place and then head over to Perpetua’s place to get linked up. And obviously, we don’t really care if it’s Sunday, or Monday, or heck, even  Saturday–if you’ve got something to say, just join us!

The glorious return tackles, well in case you couldn’t tell from my title, THAT New York Magazine article–you know, the one that has been written about by a million mommy bloggers (and other media as well) in the last few weeks? Titled “All Joy and No Fun: Why Parents Hate Parenting“, I’ve seen this article pop up all over the place lately, and for this ControverSunday, we’re tackling our thoughts on it.  So, before we get started, go read it. I’ll be here when you get back (yes, it’s a few pages, but it goes quick, I promise).

Ok, so now that you’ve read it, let’s get down to business. (warning, this is a long post. I have a lot to say about this, since it’s been percolating in my head since I first read the article almost 2 weeks ago. I may veer all over the place. You’ve been warned).

Honestly, I could debate ideas sparked by this article for days. Things such as:

• How does someone’s personal situation (married vs. single, an engaged and helpful partner vs. not, working vs. SAH, age of child, etc., etc.) affect the studies? Do the studies involved answer for those factors?
• Is this a class/economic take? How do money, affluence, and options change or not change this question? Are any other socio-economic groups even contemplating this?
• What is the goal of articles (and to a larger extent, the studies that inform these articles) such as this? How do they affect those of us who read them? Why ask these questions at all?
• What does this article say about how our society views parenting? Or how it thinks we SHOULD view parenting?

Because I think this article, and the studies that it draws from, create some really interesting questions. I think it creates an interesting opportunity to examine what we as a society think about parenting. I think it creates a unique way of looking at other experiences, as well as our own.

But honestly, at my core, I completely disagree with this article, because I LOVE parenting, and think it ADDS to my happiness rather than detracts.

I don’t mean that to sound sanctimonious. I don’t pretend that it’s all gumdrops and rainbows, as my husband likes to say. It’s chaotic, and frustrating, and tiring and time consuming. It’s anxiety inducing (seriously, I never really knew fear before having Jackson), and makes me question myself, and makes me wonder if I’m doing a good job. And I struggle with many aspects of it. But at the core of me, I am happier than I ever imagined I could be, even in many of the little annoyances. And according to the NY Mag article, I’m either lying or in a very distinct minority.

Of course, the fact that I feel that way makes me feel like I’ve got to add caveats. You know, like I had an easy baby. It’s not that I’ve forgotten those early days, or that I have rose-colored glasses, but I had an easy baby. One who ate easy, slept easy, was happy and chill and as pleasurable as someone who coats you in bodily fluids can be. Nursing was easy up until recently (and that’s only been because of the biting). We didn’t deal with reflux or colic. We haven’t dealt with sickness. Even now, we have a high energy, but pretty happy kid–one who is exhausting in his rambunctiousness, but who is for the most part sweet and smiley and full of belly laughs. And obviously, we haven’t entered toddlerhood, or school age, or any of the other ages where it’s less about keeping the kid alive and more about, you know, parenting him. So, you know, I know that my experience is different than many other peoples. Not that it means I don’t get to answer for my own happiness, but to say, I acknowledge that if things were different, my feelings might be different.

All that being said, I often wonder what role expectations play in how a parent feels about parenting.  I’ve heard expecting parents say everything from “raising a baby will be my ultimate accomplishment” to “having a baby will help strengthen our marriage” to “having a baby is all I ever wanted.” I have to wonder how those parents feel in the day to day of parenting–when they face struggles, does the fact that they built it up SO big make everyday parenting problems amplify?

I never expected parenting to fulfill me. I never looked to my baby to complete me. I don’t think that’s fair to him, or to me, to place those expectations on someone else. As many a person has said, the only person responsible for your happiness is you. No matter how much I wanted kids, I always always always knew I wanted kids as a PART of me and my life, not my whole world. I knew kids were not always easy, or sweet or little cherubs. I knew they were challenging and a force to be reckoned with. And yet…

Even in the frustrating moments of parenting, I am happier than I’ve ever been. Even in the moments when Jackson is biting me, again, and I’m trying to figure out if we’re going to have a sociopath kid who enjoys causing others pain, I’m–at my core–happier in that moment that I would be without it. I would say for me, the core happiness of having Jackson in my life easily covers the 25% of the time when the individual acts of parenting are a pain in the ass. But I’m not lying when I say that even those pain in the ass moments don’t make me UNhappy. And I would choose those moments 9 times out of 1o over other things.

There’s a bit from the article that I want to share:

Perhaps the most oft-cited datum comes from a 2004 study by Daniel Kahneman, a Nobel Prize–winning behavioral economist, who surveyed 909 working Texas women and found that child care ranked sixteenth in pleasurability out of nineteen activities. (Among the endeavors they preferred: preparing food, watching TV, exercising, talking on the phone, napping, shopping, housework.)

This, to me, is one of the main reasons I don’t identify with this article. Because HONESTLY, I would rather take care of Jackson than ANY of those things listed. I have so much joy with him that, 9 times out of 10, I would turn down an invitation to do most things so that I can take care of him. And this includes with the biting, the wrestling matches diaper changes, the constant chase to keep him out of stuff, and the invariable meltdowns when we say no one more time.

When I was talking through this with N.C., he brought up this question: Is the article confusing PLEASANT with HAPPY? Because parenting is not always pleasant. It’s just not. But neither are a lot of things that make us happy overall. So then, what’s the point of measuring moment to moment happiness over overall happiness? Don’t most activities in our lives that are challenging and rewarding fail in this matter? Work, for example, or running (haha, not me–that’s for you runners out there), or anything else that is difficult but has an overall positive effect on our lives? So where does the line between pleasant and happy get drawn?

Finally, I want to acknowledge one final point. At the end of the day, I think part of what makes me an exception to what appears to be the rule is this–I’m a lazy parent. Despite my over-analyzing on this blog, I am not this neurotic in real life. In real life, we’re very…go with the flow around here. I have no inclination towards, nor expectation of, perfection. The house is usually messy, chores go undone for days, life is chaotically unplanned. If it’s the choice between doing the dishes or spending time with Jackson–well, the dishes can sit. I don’t expect to be a perfect mom. I don’t expect a perfect baby. I expect that parenting is going to be hard, so I don’t beat myself up when I yell, or when Jackson yells, or when parenting is tough. I don’t focus on those things. Or if I do, I focus on them in an academic sort of way, not an “this is the entirety of what parenting is to me” kind of way. I don’t have any plans to push him to be “perfect”, and I hope that he’s ok with not having perfect parents, because I don’t have any plans to attempt that either.

And this seems to be part of where modern parenting, in a certain socioeconomic/intellectual class in particular, hits the barrier between happy and un. Because there is this expectation of perfection. There is this comparing. There is the internet with all its information and ability to stack yourself and your child up against others. How can you be happy when you have the expectation of flawless? Of perfect? Of do-it-all, be-it-all, never fail at anything parenthood?

If we were willing to step back and say “good enough is good enough” how much happier would we be?

Last night, Jackson took one teensy, tiny step without any help from anyone.

Just one before he reached for me, squealing with excitement.

Just one little step as my heart leapt out of my chest.

He was squealing with delight and I was trying not to cry.

So.

I may have mentioned before that I’ve had some problems with Jackson biting. Which is not so fun. And perhaps, sadly, a bit of an understatement.

Jackson bites a lot. Not just when he’s nursing, but when he’s playing and being held and climbing and…well, all the time. And he bites hard. It’s painful and frustrating and probably the thing that we’re struggling with the most in this parenting gig at the moment.

He doesn’t bite maliciously–I genuinely think he doesn’t “get” what he’s doing. It mostly tends to happen when he’s teething or really hungry (or both). Sadly, he’s been teething for about 2 months straight, so it’s not like we’ve gotten much of a break recently.

Our strategy thus far has been redirect, redirect, redirect. And avoid his mouth when he looks like he’s going in for a bite. And then redirect some more.(oh, and of course, do things to try to address the teething or hunger).

While we were on vacation though, many family members had OTHER suggestions, seeming to think we weren’t being very effective in our approach (it didn’t help when Jackson bit my mom either).  There were two main ideas that were floated to us: bite him back or give him a small smack. For a variety of reasons, neither of these ideas seem ok to me, but am I missing something? Are these effective ways to teach a 10 month old not to bite and I’m just being too much of a softie?

I just don’t think he’s old enough to “discipline” him this way. I want him to stop biting (seriously, I’m covered in bruises and red marks from the little vampire & naturally I worry about him biting other people), but I just don’t think this is the way to do it. Of course, I don’t seem to know what the right way to do it is, so maybe I’m wrong?

I didn’t have a problem telling my family that those weren’t tactics that we wanted to use, but do any of you have any other ideas?

There are lots of things we’re warned about how our bodies will change after we have a baby: things shifting, getting softer, feet growing, breasts changing. But there’s a lot of stuff no one ever warned me about. No one told me…

• Some of the smell aversions and sensitivities I had during pregnancy would remain 10 months later. I wonder now if they’re permanent (and if I’ll ever be able to wear perfume again without getting a headache).
• My worst stretch marks wouldn’t be on my belly or boobs, but on my inner thighs.
• Ingrown hairs in my bikini area would be something I’d have to learn to deal with for the first time ever. Especially around my c-section scar, but sadly not limited to that spot.
• My first period after all this time would remind me of back labor so strongly.
• My tastes might change. I used to be a mustard only girl, now I crave mayo. I used to be able to eat 1/2 a jar of pickles in a sitting, now one is more than enough.

What changes happened to you that no one warned you about?

As always, more lists can be found over at Anna’s at abdpbt!

In addition to all my big life altering plans, this week has been a time of change for the kiddo.

That’s right, we’re talking getting on a schedule, night-weaning, and sleep training. Dun-dun-duuuuuuunnnnnn.

I really wasn’t sure about the night weaning. I mean, he’s only 9 months old (mah baaayyyyybbbbeeee!), and there is so much conflicting information about whether breastfed babies can or should be night weaned this “early”. Add in the fact that I secretly like the drowsy sweet middle of the night nursings (if not the waking up), and that I worry about his intake during the day, and the ever present concern about supply, and I really have pushed this off for a while.

But something has been nagging at me to do this for a while–I don’t know if it’s a mommy thing, but I’ve felt for a while that he would do better without the night nursings. The thought was if we could break the night nursing, and get him to sleep through the night, he might not nap so weirdly (sometimes 3 hour naps, sometimes none!) during the day. If he wasn’t napping so weird, we might be able to get him on a better schedule so that N.C. would have some clear (er) ideas of when he would be able to work during the day, and we could figure out Jackson’s eating schedule a little better if things weren’t so willy nilly. In my head, everything was kind of tied to those two night nursing sessions.

So, with the blessing of our pediatrician and much gnashing of teeth by me, we set out last Friday to change things  up. We decided to drop the night nursing sessions, instead only going in to soothe the kid if he woke in the middle of the night (which he had been doing with increasing frequency, and increasing screamingness prior to this point). We figured the weekend would be a good time as I wouldn’t have to function at work if he just went ballistic. My caveat was that if he didn’t calm & go back to sleep after two soothing sessions, I’d take that as a sign that he wasn’t ready, at least for that time, and nurse him.

That first night, he started screaming at his usual time. There was soothing, and rocking and all that jazz. The kid got calm, then we put him down and he screamed again. For 3 minutes, before he passed out.

Four hours later, he started screaming again at his usual time. There was soothing and rocking and all that jazz. Again, he got calm, then we put him down and screamed some more. For 2 minutes.

The next day, we worked on a new schedule with wake up times, nap times, bottle/nurse times and food times more clearly laid out. And then that night, we tried again. And at his normal time, he screamed–for a minute or two, and then went back to bed. Not another peep until four hours later, at his normal time, when he cried–for a minute or two, and then went back to bed.

Since then, we’ve not had a night screaming session once. A few times he’s woken up a little and whimpered or fussed for a minute or two, before passing right back out. But mostly, he’s been going down at night, and staying down until somewhere between 6-8am (I’m not worrying too much about wakeup time just yet). And he’s been teething this week, so if anytime should be harder, it should be now (right?). I took the relative ease with which he settled those first two nights as the proof that he was ok without the night nurse, though I am being a little more anal retentive about his bottle/nurse ratio during the day (not that I should be worried, the kid is in the 89th percentile for weight, he’s obviously growing like a freakin weed).

And the theory was right–he sleeps through the night now, which makes the schedule during the day more reliable, which makes everyone work better. We’re still not ever going to be a strict schedule family–that just doesn’t work for us–but having a little more of a guideline is working better for N.C., makes it easier for me on the weekend to know what I’m supposed to keep to, and lets the kid have a little more routine.

And sleeping through the night isn’t bad either.