It's All About the Choices

When Pooka was only about two weeks old, I had already made at least two major parenting choices. The first one was to stop feeding her breast milk. That decision caused my very first mommy guilt. All the good mom's breast feed according to the breast feeding support groups. I earnestly tried. Pooka wouldn't latch on so I pumped milk several times a day and froze it for later. I was doing the best thing for my child. Doing the best thing meant that as a sleep deprived new zombie, I mean mom, I placed my breast in a milking machine that pulled and sucked at my nipple like it was taffy for about 10 minutes each side, and the end result was the tiniest amount of precious milk. But my baby was worth it, so I continued to do this several times a day for almost two weeks. Somewhere in the second week of this painful ritual, I plugged in the milking machine, heard that horrible mechanical sucking noise and started bawling. I cried throughout for the 20 minute session. I cried because I knew that my child was going to projectile vomit my efforts across the room. Pooka had severe reflux and didn't keep much down during the first month. It all started to seem so ridiculous (and now funny). So I decided that if I continued, my daughter would have "the good milk" but I would lose my sanity. Sanity trumped milk.

The second decision that I remember making is a bit more personal. I know, you are thinking what can be more personal than my boob in a milking machine, But it is. I did not feel an instant bond with my child, which I know is totally normal. Yes, I loved her because she was mine. I took care of her basic needs of food, diaper changes, and cuddles. However, I felt like I was babysitting someone else's kid. The first few weeks of adjusting to parenthood was rough. I had always been very independent and not used to having someone around me all the time. Let alone a needy little thing. So I remember one day feeling very irked that I had to clean the umbilical chord with alcohol again. It was late at night and I was so tired. I just wanted to crawl under my covers and sleep for like... ever. I could feel resentment growing. Then I stopped. I realized at that moment that I had a choice to make. I could go into Pooka's room and clean her umbilical chord with the resentment that was brewing or I could choose to do it with love.That simple. I chose love and will never forget that moment for as long as I live. I felt like a mom not a babysitter.

Flashforward 12 years, I am once again making choices about acting with love and not resentment. This month has been really a struggle with finding balance in my role as a single, working parent. Work has been demanding. When I focus too much on work, I get stressed. When I get stressed, Pooka gets stressed, When Pooka gets stressed, her behavior and neediness escalates. Which makes me more stressed. We get stuck on this dizzying carousel of anxiety until it starts spinning so fast, one of us gets thrown off. Usually me. But that is a good thing because once I brush myself off, I realize the jolt snapped me back into level headedness. Then it is time to make choices again.

 

Blizzard-y Fun Snowmen



Usually there is a clear indication that we are beginning to ride the carousel; the pressure builds over time. We started the month of February with the blizzard and 3 1/2 days of being in the house together. I was excited to spend the time with Pooka while I worked from home. It went surprisingly well. Pooka let me focus when I had to, and I stopped working occassionally to do something fun with her. We made these marshmallow snowmen in honor of the blizzard from a recipe that Pooka chose. Due to a few ingredient substitutions, they ended up looking a bit like albino snowmen. But they are kind of cute. I ate all of them except for one. But by the third day in the house together, Pook and I were bit on edge. We needed our own space.

Mid-month we had a very long three day weekend. I had had an extremely long week at work and really did not have much energy left for the weekend. But as usual, Pooka seemed to need me more than ever. She must sense when I am not really available to her mentally. This causes her to revert back to babyish behavior, i.e. "hold my hand while I get out of bed", "pour my juice". The more I tried to encourage Pooka to do the things that she knows how to do, the more she insisted that I "help". My lack of internal resources made me feel resentful of this behavior. Wait... that seems familiar.

After that weekend, I felt horrible. My time shared with Pooka is limited and I want more laughter than arguing. Then I remembered the lesson from the infant days. During the last week in February, I chose to make my choices out of love and not resentment. I chose to ease up on my work schedule to recharge my batteries, which actually made me feel more productive. I chose to pretend that I was on vacation at home over the weekend so that I could actually feel like I had a break from work. On Sunday, even though I was tired, I chose to play a game of Trouble with Pooka (I was beat again. I can't believe how lucky this girl can be) and then, oh the greatest imagination play of all, Barbies. Pook looked at me as if she didn't recongize me as I pretended that the Barbie family was on a bumpy plane ride to Disney World. (Yes, sweetie, mom still knows how to have fun and be silly) . I also chose to stay home with Pooka today because she was sick. I usually ask her dad or my mom to watch her when she needs to stay home so I can go to work. But today I chose to let work take the backseat. Well, I guess I still did do quite a bit of work at home... but I was there if she needed me. Before she went to sleep, Pooka told me that she was happy that we hung out today. Seems like I made the right choice.

A 5 Minute Morning Conversation with Pooka

Pooka: I’m so full of joyful and excitement and energy. (Add short, high-pitched scream to punctuate how much joy, excitement and energy she is full of).

Me: You certainly are Pooka. And it is such a nice way to start the morning. Minus the scream. Our neighbors really don’t want to hear screaming. Please don’t scream.

Pooka: Do you miss my Daddy?”

Me: (Long pause). Yes, I miss your Daddy sometimes.

Pooka: What do you miss about him?

Me: We used to talk a lot a long time ago. So I miss talking to him sometimes.

Pooka: I have plenty of time to play?

Me:  Yes.

Pooka: I do?

Me: Yes.

Pooka: I do?

Me: Yes.

Pooka: I do?

Me: Yes.

Pooka: I do?

Me: Yes.

Add at least 5 more “I do’s” and yeses.

Pooka: Look at my pretty hair.

Me: You have beautiful hair. Mine used to be thin and scraggly when I was your age. Yours is thick and wavy. Very pretty.

Pooka: I’m tired.

Me: You are? You slept in a bit this morning.

Pooka: So I have plenty of time to play?

Me: Yes.  

Pooka: So I have plenty of time to play?

Me: Yes.

Pooka: So I do?

Me: Yes

Pooka: I do? ….

Me: (Sigh) Now I’m tired.