I am a Mother to Sons

I've been debating whether to write this down at all, or to write it down but not publish it, or to write it down and then delete it, or just to think about it and then squash down the thoughts. I'm still not sure if it should be out there, but I try to be honest on my blog and with my life, so here it is.

I become very jealous of people when I hear they have a baby girl.

There, I said it.

I love my four boys. I can't imagine life with a daughter. I can't imagine my life being any different than it is. I have four sons, and I don't regret having them, I don't regret having four, I don't regret any of it. I love my sons. I love saying I have four sons. I love saying "my four sons." I like to think I'm raising four boys who will become four wonderful men and marry four wonderful women and provide me with scads of grandchildren, boys and girls. I like to think I'm contributing positively to the next generation of men, a generation of men who are respectful of women, honest about their emotions, not afraid to express love, abhorrent of injustice and violence. I hope that I am raising four intelligent, ambitious, successful human beings who will make the world, or their little corner of it, a better place by the fact of their being in it. (Is that a bit arrogant? Maybe. But isn't that what parents really hope for in their kids? That they are raising people they will be proud of?)

But when I see a friend post a picture of their new baby girl, or a picture of their little girl in a cute dress, or talk about their little girl doing something girly like having a tea party with her dolls or wanting to paint her nails or do her hair...

I admit to being jealous, and a little sad.

I always assumed I'd have a girl. I thought if I had four kids, they'd be two girls and two boys. I thought I'd have a girl first. You want to have a girl first, you see, because then she'll help with her baby siblings. She'll be a little mama.

What I have are four boys. And my oldest boy? He helps so much with his younger brothers. And my boys like getting new clothes, and my second boy once asked to paint his nails, and there was that time four of us sat and had a tea party together (granted, we made gross pretend soup, but still, it was kind of a tea party).

But there was this one time, when I was pregnant with #4 and hadn't found out the gender yet, that I saw a cute little yellow dress at Kohl's in the toddler girls section, and I picked it up and admired it and then put it in my cart and started toward the register, and then laughed and put it back on the rack when I realized what I was doing. But I really was going to buy it, because I was sure I was going to have a daughter.

I was supposed to have a daughter.

I always imagined how I would raise a girl. How I would teach her about life and womanhood, and how I would be clueless about makeup and fashion, and how she would see that you can grow up to be a strong, happy, fulfilled woman even without those things, and how there are lots of ways to feel fulfilled in life. I thought I would be there for her when she was pregnant, and pass along all my knowledge about pregnancy and birth and breastfeeding. Not that I can't do those things for a future daughter-in-law, but it's not the same, in my mind.

I joke about how I'm so relieved not to have a girl, that I don't have to deal with the tween girl hormones or synced up cycles. I laugh and say I'm so glad I don't have to experience the drama of the 4-year-old girl or the terror of the teen years.

I joke, and I smile, and I laugh, but...

I love my sons so much, and I hope that I'm able to teach them all the things that will make them exemplary husbands and fathers, even though I'm not sure I really know how. And I love my sons so much, and one day they'll bring home a woman to the Passover seder or a Shabbat dinner or to Thanksgiving and say, "Mom, I want you to meet my fiancee," and then I can look forward to having a daughter-in-law and granddaughters to bond with.

And I love my sons so much, and four kids is plenty, and I don't think I can do it again, the pregnancy and the birth and the baby years and the toddler years and the diapers and the sleepless nights, even if it meant I would have a daughter. Even then.

So I mourn the daughter I will never have.

And I'm sad for myself when my friends have baby girls.

And I gather my four beautiful sons into my arms and I love them so much and I can't imagine my life any other way.

G-d gave me boys.

I am a mother to sons.

Please Don't Tell Me I'm a Supermom

When I tell people I've gone to the store, or out to eat, or made dinner, or gotten a few hours of work done, or some other apparently monumental task while being responsible for all four of my kids, I get exclamations of amazement. "You're a supermom!", they'll say. Or, "I only have two, and I can barely manage most nights!" Or, "I don't know how you do it!" I know these are meant as compliments and are honest reactions to something outside their own frame of reference. And I appreciate them as such.

But it makes me uncomfortable just the same. Because secretly, deep down, it releases all kinds of insecurities. All I can think of is all the things I've done wrong, the mistakes I've made, the things I wish I had managed to do. I berate myself for not paying enough attention to the kids, for letting them fend for themselves while I work in another room, or, conversely, for spending a few hours with them instead of working a few more hours to pad my paycheck. Or, for neglecting both work and kids to sit on the toilet and play Candy Crush in private. I should hold my baby more, hug my five-year-old more, draw with my toddler more, and read with my seven-year-old more. I should put the phone down during dinner and make them tell me about their day. I should try harder to get the toddler to take a regular nap. I should get the middle two dressed before noon. I should take them to the park more so they can run around on sunny days. I should replace their bike helmets and let them out front to ride. I should fold their laundry. I should wipe down the kitchen counters, sweep the floor of the toddler's food-leavings, and change the baby's diaper and give him a bath.

I see other people accomplishing things I haven't been able to, and I think I have no right to those compliments. I'm not "doing it all." I'm not a supermom. And when you tell me I am, you're belittling yourself. You're negating all of the amazing things you've managed to do, like have a dance party in the living room and do an art project with your preschooler, like cook healthy meals all week long, get your car washed, and clean your toilets. Like sign your second-grader up for soccer, acquire all the gear he needs, and attend all his games. Like save up for two years to take the family to Disneyland. Like start your own business and run it successfully, work full time outside the house and still get the laundry folded and the lawn mowed, and remember to pick up a birthday present for the party this weekend.

I'm just a mom. Some things, I know I do well. Some things, I know I could improve. And, looking at you, looking at how well dressed you are, how neat and clean your house is, how you make healthy meals all the time and get your housework done regularly and limit screen time to just the weekends, and have money left in the bank at the end of the month, some things make me feel very, very inadequate. Not because I think you're judging me, but because I'm judging myself.

Please don't tell me I'm a supermom. I don't feel all that super, and I don't have a cape. Sure, I made it to the grocery store, but I nearly lost the stroller, forgot to buy half the things we needed, and left the reusable bags at home. Yeah, I got the oldest to school on time, but the other three are still in pajamas and the toddler's diaper needs changing. Absolutely, I made dinner and put the dishes in the dishwasher, but I didn't make them clean up their toys, there are shoes everywhere, and the baby is crying in his swing while I rinse the last of the dishes.

No one's life is perfect. I think as moms we only see our own shortcomings while we admire the accomplishments of all moms around us. I'm wondering how she can remember to put jackets on both of her kids and manage to keep them from running around screaming in the store, while she's wondering how I can load four kids into the car in half the time it takes her to put her two in. I'm wondering how she finds the time to make dinners from scratch every night and keep the living room free of clutter, while she's wondering how I can work part time from home with three kids in the house.

I'll tell you what, if you buy the capes, I'll wash them. But don't blame me if I forget to put them in the dryer.

Adjusting to a Second (or Third, or Fourth) Baby

While there is always plenty to worry about when you're pregnant, you'll have different concerns when you're pregnant with your second (or third, or fourth...) than you did with your first. When you've already had a baby, your life has already adjusted to the presence of a child. But now you need to adjust your older child(ren) to the presence of a sibling, and you have to figure out how you are going to care for yet another child. Here are some of the common concerns parents have when adding a new baby to the family.

What if I don't love my new baby as much as I love my son/daughter? 
This is one of the most common questions I hear from second-time moms who are expressing their worries about the impending birth of their next child. The overwhelming love we experience when our first baby is born is indescribable, and we worry that it can never be matched. Fortunately, love is not finite, nor is it parceled out. Bonding with your first baby left physical changes in your brain that mean bonding with your next will happen in just as breathtaking a fashion. Love expands into a bubble that encompasses every child together and each child individually. You may not love your second in the same way that you love your first, but the quantity and quality will not be in any way diminished. Finding that each of your children is an individual with different needs for attention, affection, and interaction brings a whole new dimension to the overall love you will feel for your family as a whole and for each child. And the love between siblings gives your heart a whole new reason to swell.

What if I love my new baby more than I love my older child?
This is a different sort of worry. You know you love your child, but maybe you had trouble forming a bond the first time. Maybe the birth was traumatic, maybe you were separated for a hours or days, or maybe you were so befuddled and overwhelmed by the addition of a new baby to your little family that you took a few days or weeks to feel the kind of love you were looking for. What if, this time, you bond faster, your love is stronger? It is, in fact, likely that you will bond faster with subsequent children than you did with your first. While some parents had no trouble bonding the first time, it is very common, too, for it to take a little time to understand how this new little person fits into your world. Rest assured, your capacity for loving your children is not limited or finite, and you will find that as you experience a new bond with your baby, your bond with your older child will increase as well.

The baby will require so much attention. I don't want the older sibling(s) to be jealous.
Yes. The new baby will require a great deal of attention. This is true. And you will be tired and overwhelmed and discombobulated. And your other child(ren) will still need you for diaper changes, potty help, baths, reading books, helping with homework, meals, laundry, and everything else you already do for them. And it is entirely possible that they will get tired of hearing, "Mommy (or Daddy) will be with you in a few minutes, just as soon as I finish feeding/bathing/holding the baby." Remember, though, that a lot of the attention the new baby needs at first is fairly passive. Nursing (or giving a bottle), holding and rocking, carrying around, keeping an eye on, are all things you can do while you give attention to an older child. Your older child can cuddle with you while you nurse the baby. One great bit of advice that many new parents find helpful is to set up a "nursing basket." Put together a box or basket of special books, toys, and movies that you can engage in with your toddler or preschooler whenever you sit down to feed the new baby. Your older child will still get to spend quality quiet time with you, and may even begin to see nursing-the-baby time as a special Mommy time for him/her, too. In addition, make sure your older child(ren) get a chance to hear you say, "Hold on, Baby, your brother needs my help first." Let him know that he's not always going to be second to the needs of the baby. Also, if you can, arrange for regular one-on-one time with the older child with one parent or the other.

A second bit of advice that works well for toddlers is to have the "baby" give the older sibling a gift. When the baby is born, you'll likely receive gifts for yourself and for the baby. Store away something in advance that the baby can give to his big sister or brother. Also, if you can enlist a relative or two to give the big sibling a gift (even something small), she or he will feel less left out of the excitement.

Another part of this equation is giving your older child(ren) the chance to become helpers and caregivers for the new sibling. I have found that this facilitates the sibling bond and makes the older child feel needed and special, too. Give them a "job" (equal to their abilities, of course). "Can you help me out and be such a big girl? Can you run upstairs to the baby's room and get Mommy a diaper? I think the baby needs a change." It may sound corny, but if you make your child feel like she is the only one who can do this monumental task to help you and the baby out, she will be full of pride. And if she doesn't want to help you, no big deal. She'll still appreciate that you asked her. Another way a verbal toddler or preschooler can be of great help is by "watching" the baby for you. When the baby is in a safe place such as a swing or on a blanket on the floor, if you're trying to accomplish something like fold laundry or make dinner, ask your older child to watch the baby. Have him sit down beside the baby and talk to him, keep him company, try to make him laugh. Make sure you've already established boundaries like no touching the baby's face and no trying to pick up baby, of course, for safety. Make sure he knows what a great help he's being.

It takes me 10 minutes to get out the door with just one kid. How long will it take with two?!
You'll find that because you've already got experience with packing up a diaper bag and getting everyone dressed and ready to go, adding a baby to the mix likely won't end up doubling your "out-the-door" time. Certainly, at first, you will need to leave yourself extra time to get where you're going. In my experience, it's always just as you're about ready to leave for an appointment that the baby poops and needs to eat. But getting everything else ready shouldn't take too much more time than it already does. Snacks, diapers, wipes, change of clothes for the older one (as needed), diapers, wipes, change of clothes for the younger one (and bottles if applicable) all go in the bag, and off you go. Some people find it easier to keep two bags ready, one for the older child and one for the baby, although I find this just means more to carry and keep track of. If your older child still needs to be carried out the door and into the car, leave the baby in a safe place in the house (already buckled in the infant car seat, for example), run the toddler out to the car, buckle him in, then go back for baby. I find that if I start encouraging the older child to be able to walk out to the car and climb in before the baby's born, while I can help him figure it out, getting everybody in is much quicker once you're juggling more than one child. This, of course, depends on your older child's age and abilities. Of course, if you live in an apartment or have to park on the street or have another circumstance where something like this scenario isn't realistic, you'll find a way to make it all happen. You've already worked out how to get one kid out safely, after all!

How will I manage bedtimes, naps, and errands?
I like to plan ahead and understand how the bedtime routine might change, where I'll put everyone when I go grocery shopping, and when and how everybody will get the naps they need. The thing is, it's hard to really plan ahead for any of this, because you have to see how your older kid(s) will react to the new baby, you have to see what the baby's needs are, and you need to know how much help you'll have in terms of other adults around. If you can share the bedtime routine between both parents, then I'd start making any necessary transitions at least a few weeks, if not a few months, before the baby is born. If Mommy usually cuddles with the toddler until he falls asleep, can Daddy do it now instead? Or can you help the toddler learn to fall asleep on his own, or after just a few minutes of cuddles? If you are alone with your kids at bedtime and you're used to "doing it all," you may have to improvise. At first, you can likely just hold and/or feed the baby while you do any book reading, cuddling, and so forth. If your baby is fussy or needy right around your older child's bedtime (which is common!), this may be more difficult. I find that it's usually helpful to get the older child to bed and then deal with the baby, if that's possible.

Naps are really the place where the younger sibling will suffer. I've been in the situation where the toddler's nap falls exactly between the baby's naps, and I feel like I can't ever leave the house because one or another of my kids is supposed to be sleeping. Unfortunately, it may happen that your baby becomes a slave to the routine and schedule you've already established. If that means baby naps in the car or during errands, at least he's getting some sleep, right? If you can baby-wear and/or arrange to take your longest car trips when baby needs to sleep, you'll at least be able to ensure that she's getting some nap time in, even if naps aren't always in bed!

As for errands, baby-wearing will be your friend, here, too. If you have a toddler who still needs to sit in the cart, for example, you can wear the baby and still put the toddler in the cart. Some of the larger stores have carts that can accommodate more than one child at a time, but in a regular grocery store, you may not have any other options. It is dangerous to prop the infant car seat on the child seat in the cart, so I don't recommend doing that, regardless of how many children you have. One thing I used to do when my third was born was take all three of my kids shopping. My oldest was capable of pushing the baby in his stroller while my middle sat in the cart, which I pushed. My oldest really liked having that important job to do. Better still is if one adult can run to the store while the other stays with the kids! Or take just one kid with you on errands and make that a special one-on-one time. Maybe you can get ice cream or buy him a special treat once in a while if he comes with you, so that he'll see that he still gets a fun time alone with Mommy or Daddy.


The best observation I can make is that, yes, the first several weeks will be a period of adjustment. You'll fumble with figuring out how to integrate the new baby into your routine. You'll have to figure out how to meet the baby's needs without depriving your other child(ren). You'll have to get used to dividing your time and attention. Your older child(ren) will likely act up or behave strangely because they will also be affected by the change in their routines and their lives. They'll notice that you are not as readily available to them. They'll be aware that things are different now. Be sure to acknowledge those feelings. Also, know that things will get easier. You will adjust. Your family will adjust. Give it some time and get a little creative, and, most of all, take what help you can get!

Enjoy your growing family!

What tips do you have for parents adjusting to the birth of a subsequent child? How did you help your older child(ren) get used to having a new baby in the house? How did you integrate the new baby into your established routine and busy day-to-day lives?

This, Too, Shall Pass, and Other Wisdom

I find myself, with about eight weeks left of this pregnancy, suddenly terrified of having a newborn again. This happens with each consecutive child. I cycle from excited, to thinking we must be crazy, to content, to excited, to terrified, to content, to excited, to OMG WHAT WERE WE THINKING?, then back to excited, then content, then terrified.

Part of it is our kids are spaced just-so, that we finally are at a point where sleep is basically working, routines are basically established, everybody's got some level of independence, and I feel like I'm in the groove, and then we throw another newborn into the mix and everything gets thrown out of whack again. And this being my fourth time through the ringer, well, I kind of do know what to expect.

In some ways, knowing what to expect is comforting. I know what to do with a newborn. I know phases start and phases end. I have almost seven years of watching kids grow up under my belt and have been through sleeplessness and teething and illness and firsts and potty training and nightmares and picky eating and tantrums and I know that "this, too, shall pass" is an absolute mantra of parenting. I know I can stick it out for a little longer until one problem ends as suddenly as another begins. I can pass along the sage wisdom of, "Just when you think you have it all figured out, they change it up on you again," and I can remember it for myself. I know that "do what works," "wait it out," and "give it another couple weeks" are absolute truths. I know that every kid is different, that every baby needs love, and that I have the strength and capacity to make it through this hour, this day, this week.

But in other ways, knowing what to expect is terrifying! I know about the sleepless nights, the crying for no reason (both me and the baby!), the stress of feeding issues and poo-splosions. I know about the pain of recovering from childbirth. I've experienced the complexities of balancing the needs of the older kids and the baby, and the sheer exhaustion of new parenthood. (And it's still new, even when it's for the fourth time.) I know about the disruption of routine, the randomness of life with a newborn, and the stress of evening fussiness. I know that sleepless nights and teething woes are once again on the horizon.

I find I do have a longer view than I used to. I'm already thinking about next fall, when my second will start kindergarten, my third will be three, and the new one, who is right know kicking and dancing within me, will be almost one. Because I can envision that, when it used to seem impossible that my kids would ever grow up, grow bigger, start school. It used to feel like toddlerhood was forever, that I'd be always wiping butts and noses (not simultaneously), cutting up food into tiny pieces, and washing sippy cups. Now I see that it is not. That life will change. That one day my days will be my own (except for school breaks and sickness), that my kids will be helpful in stores, that I won't have car seats to buckle or diapers to change, that I won't have to supervise trips to the bathroom, that as suddenly as life changes when you give birth, life gradually evolves again as that baby becomes a little person who walks and talks and has opinions all his own.

So, I'm terrified of the short term, of what I know is coming in the next few months and years. But I'm excited, too, about the long term, of watching another bright soul come into his own, of seeing our once-little family become huge and full of life and noise and warmth and love.

To those of you out there with one little one, or two little ones, who see life at knee-height, whose days are full of poop and whose nights are empty of sleep: give it a few weeks, months, a year. Life will expand. Your kids will grow. You will grow. You have the strength to make it through this hour, this day, this month. And while you may not look back fondly on every tantrum (yours or theirs), you'll look back and know that the weeks are shorter than they seem and that the months go by faster than you could ever have imagined.

Playing with My Kids: Coming Together over "Tea" and "Soup"

Until we moved, we regularly attended synagogue on Saturdays at our local Chabad house. When we moved, one of our many tasks was to find a new place to go on Saturdays, so this weekend, we visited one of the Chabad houses within a reasonable distance of our somewhat isolated new home.

This particular Chabad house has their services and offices located on the first floor of a commercial office building. They showed me and my kids to a room where they could play while my husband joined the prayer service. They said usually other kids start coming a bit later. I didn't want to leave my kids alone there without supervision, so I hung around with them while they built with Mega Blocks and Duplos.

The thing about Saturdays is, it's the one day a week that my phone is not in or near my hand. Because it's Shabbat, the day of rest, the use of electricity, telephones, televisions, etc., is customarily avoided. We are not particularly strict about the laws of Shabbat at home, but when in synagogue, out of respect for the day and the people around us, we leave all of that in the car and assume the sacred space of Shabbat.

This meant that, for a while, I was extremely bored and found myself reading a copy of "Mrs. Piggle Wiggle" that someone had left lying open on the couch just outside the room where my kids were playing. After some time, I wandered in to the room to see what they were up to, and I found my almost two-year-old son, G, playing with a plastic tea set, pretending to pour coffee into a mug. He "drank" some of the coffee, then offered some to me. I sat down with him at the table. Soon, my 4.5-year-old son S joined us and started making "soup" in one of the plastic bowls. Then the 6.5-year-old, N, came to see what we were doing. S told us he was making soup and then pretended to pour coffee and tea into the "soup" bowl. N and I said, "Ewww!" and asked what kind of soup it was before the coffee and tea were added. S informed us it was "tuna soup." "Eww!" we said again. We then took turns coming up with the weirdest and yuckiest-sounding soup recipes we could think of. Adding chocolate syrup to almost any savory soup seemed to be the "ew" factor of choice.

Tea Set on display at the Museum of Hartlepool. From Flickr.

The wife of the rabbi appeared with her daughters, greeted us, and told N she might have some Lego around if he wanted. She couldn't find the Lego, but she did find more pieces to the tea set and some toy pots and pans with which we could continue to make soup. G was delighted to find another spoon and a fork to go with the one spoon we had uncovered at first. We spent quite a while making crazy soup concoctions and pretending to eat and drink.

Normally, when I do get down on the floor (figuratively or literally) to play with my kids, I get bored pretty fast. I've learned I'm not alone in this - some have a greater tolerance for the repetition and simplicity of toddler games than others. My style is usually to be nearby but watching, rather than participating in, the play. My three are pretty good at playing together and finding things to do, but an almost-seven-year-old doesn't always want to do the same things as an almost-two-year-old, and that's perfectly reasonable. But for those few minutes, drinking pretend tea and fake, unappetizing soup, all four of us were engaged. No one asked to play with my phone. Facebook notifications didn't call to me for attention. No screens came between us and our silly game. It was just me and my boys.

When you take away all the other possibilities, all the other things you "could" be doing right now - whether it's paid work, house work, or Candy Crush (er...yes, guilty on all counts) - a simple pretend tea party brings the whole family to the table.