Ok, so I know this is going to generate some serious controversy, but that is not at all what I’m trying to do.  I’m just genuinely confused by something, and have been confused by it in the past, so I’m thinking my online blogger support team might be able to help me understand the rationale behind something.

Look at the photo contained in the link below and think for a moment, I mean really reflect, on the feelings it evokes. (I can’t link in or post the actual picture here right now, because of the ridiculous blocks this place has on my Internet-good thing I only have 26 days left here).

Anyway, for now, just click on it-the article is interesting too:

http://img.timeinc.net/time/daily/2007/0709/breastfeeding_0911.jpg

The reason this comes to mind yet again, is because someone I know just had their second child.  This person did not breastfeed the first daughter.  Now that in my mind is fine, it is one’s OWN choice after all, I’m not about requiring it to be mandatory.  But my question is about the fact that this person chose this option before ever even trying it ONCE.  As both an immunologist and a mother, I can’t understand it.  Maybe you can.  And you’ll help me to get it too.

First of all, I would not have been able to withstand the unending curiosity of what the whole process would BE like.  Second of all, in this era of all the moms who try to “one up” each other with all the advantages they give their child, it’s hard to believe that one would not at least give a little attempt…even a couple days of trying…  Trust me, it wasn’t a breeze for me.  Not by a long shot.  I had a hearty little eater in Miss B.  She latched on very easily, and she had an easy time of it.  However, I went through several rounds of infections, a few rounds of really embarrassing moments and one really, really gross incident that my ex-husband recalls all too well, where he came home from work to find me pumping bloody milk into a bottle while our daughter slept.  He asked me what I was doing and I said through clenched teeth “This little girl WILL be breast-fed for AT LEAST ONE  YEAR!”.  I threw out that milk by the way-I just wanted to keep pumping until I healed so that my milk would not dry up.  Ok, so even the ex will attest to my stubborn streak-which is even stronger when it comes to my little girl.  But it wasn’t just my obstinance that made me keep going this time.  I could not, in my right mind, give her that nasty tasting formula.  I tasted it out of that unending curiosity that I am made of and I nearly vomited.  For real  It.  Was.  Disgusting.  And yeppers, I tasted my milk and I’ll be damned if it wasn’t some really good stuff.  And I don’t even like milk!  It tasted like the milk at the bottom of a bowl of Lucky Charms!

And also, as mentioned before, I’m a scientist who once planned on going to med school.  All those hours spent poring over medical books and studying MCAT study guides affected me in many ways and I’m just a tiny bit passionate about the health and well-being of our children.  I get why women stop after awhile.  It’s not convenient I know.  I leaked all over my best friends bachelorette party when B was just days old.  I then proceeded to bust out of the dress for her wedding a few days later and wound up pumping in a janitors closet.  Yes. I leaked all over that dress too.  (Laughing as I type this).  There were times I wanted to quit and it was certainly bittersweet when B was done and started to walk up to me to get her milk (happy to be “free” of that, but sad to be “free” of that)-but I couldn’t have imagined it any other way.  I want the best for her.  Always.  And that won’t always be convenient for me.  So when you have a baby, don’t you feel that you should TRY to breastfeed, unless it’s medically not possible or there is some substantial reason not to?  I guess I just can’t understand why you wouldn’t even try it ONCE?  I’m going to censor myself now and cut this post off…because I’m sure someone will be offended.  But I just really want to know a legitimate reason that will make me understand why a mother wouldn’t just try it.  Once.  That’s all.

For me

Our neighborhood is fabulous for a growing 9 year old girl!  We stayed home for spring break, since we usually travel during February break, when it’s just dreadful here in NY.  Spring break is sunny and smells good and fun for bike riding and rollerblading and yes…trampolining!  I love that we have little girls B’s age next door, but I hardly see her anymore!  It shows me what its going to be like as she gets older and has this “life of her own”.  I know its the point of parenting to raise independent children who make the right choices on their own, but does anyone else feel a bit sad too?  I don’t feel quite as needed.  I think B feels it too…she pops her head in periodically and yells, “Mom???  I LOVE you!”.  Here we go-the beginning of her taking care of me.

BsDaddy is present in her life.  Physically.  Financially.  Not really emotionally and certainly not spiritually.  The first two being the least important of the four in my eyes.  But not necessarily in hers.  Not yet anyway.  I make sure she knows that although he isn’t buying her material items as often as Mommy does, he is giving money to Mommy which allows me that extra spending ability.  And for her to be in expensive sports and activities.  She knows we both contribute financially to her lifestyle.  And she’s grateful.  Yes, even at nine.  That’s just how my girl rolls.

So, although he isn’t what I want him to be in her life-he’s there.  It seems to be enough for her-for now.  And I’m not going to rock that boat.

Although he could have been a bit more excited about her choice yesterday to do this to her hair:

And, as I keep reiterating to NewHusband, we can’t control what goes on in the other parent’s household.  Just like we wouldn’t love if they tried telling US what to do.  (But that’s hard advice to swallow when B tells me she tried to call me Friday night because she couldn’t sleep and she was alone downstairs at Daddy’s house and she worked herself into such a frenzy she had to go be sick in the bathroom.  And I didn’t get the call because I was on the lake where service is in and out, and she didn’t leave a message.  Although now, she knows to next time-TEXT your momma silly girly!).

This is much easier now that she’s nine and understands things better, than it was when she was three.  I used to cry my eyes out when she left for her Daddy’s. 

This post reminds me of that quote:  ”Just because someone doesn’t love you like you want them to, doesn’t mean they don’t love you with all they have”.  So maybe, he’s loving her the best he can.

This is the day that I married B’s Daddy.  Way back in 1996.  I don’t think I regret that.  Not exactly.  Except that I could have gotten this amazing little girl through a one night stand with him and spared myself all these years of rebuilding, healing and then regressing, only to rebuild again.  Permanent healing?  Does that exist?  I’m guessing not.  It would have been our 12 year anniversary.  And it’s…not.  Every year this day is remotely painful, no matter how fabulous my life is at that moment.  It still feels like exactly what it is-a failure.  

I’m not always as positive as some of you think…lately I’ve been a little more down and actually missing having my own home and my single mama days.  I like being alone a little more than I am, and not having anyone to “answer” to.  The new marriage still feels so, well, “new”.  Even though it’s to someone I’ve known for a long time.  I’ve never lived with anyone other than my ex-husband and that, well, it’s that part that takes getting used to.  It’s not just a new husband, it’s a stepson too.  Am I really cut out for this?  Stepson comes home today, until next Sunday, then he’ll go to his non-custodial mom again for a week.  It’s been very quiet this summer, with him visiting his mom so frequently.  Wondering how we’ll get used to it all again once school begins.  He’s a much, much different type of person than the rest of us.

Time to get moving and get some planning done for the new school year.  I’m hitting paranoia about the new job and the first day of school in front of a pile of high school kids, trying to teach them some subjects they don’t really want to partake in (Chemistry/Physics).  Thanks for listening.

Have any of you seen this movie?  Especially any of you with daughters?  My nine year old daughter has liked this movie for a few years now.  It stars Emma Roberts (Julia Robert’s niece, who plays Addy on Nickolodeon’s Unfabulous) and JoJo (teen pop star) as two young girls whose strengths combine to make each one’s individual weaknesses more bearable.  They stumble upon a young mermaid and give her advice on how to win the affections of a lifeguard that all three admire.  Aquamarine has to find true love in the next few days, or her father will make her remain a mermaid, although she so desperately wants to be human.  The ensuing drama is oddly reminiscent of “Mean Girls”, with a bit of “The Little Mermaid”.  

But the ending, well this is one that you mamas are going to LOVE.  I won’t spoil it for you, but let’s just say, it’s not your typical Disney-fied movie where you don’t find happiness unless you get the prince.

And one of the lead characters has a strong, powerful single mom, struggling with her willful teenage daughter.  Granted, the other character lost both of her parents previously, but is being raised by BOTH grandparents.  Read this post for a great discussion of how mothers are underrepresented in Disney movies.  

Mamas, watch this with your girls.  It sends the right message.  The one we all talk about all the time.  And definitely a message about how much your friends can mean to you.  (Your virtual support groups too.  ;)  ).

Though I suppose you aren’t so “little” anymore, we still continue to call you that.  

You have made my life exactly what it’s supposed to be.  

You are the kindest, most empathetic, compassionate person I’ve ever met.  You have more spunk in your one braid than most of us do in our entire body (could it be from watching Bring It On-All Or Nothing so many times?;)). 

I’m sorry it’s raining today.  I know you wanted a boating birthday, but we’ll do that another day.  I guess maybe it’s God crying happy too.  I know yesterday and today, I’ve been emotional.  Last night, when I “kissed eight goodbye” and you laughed at me, I was serious when I said you are halfway to college.  Unlike lots of people, it hasn’t flown by-it’s been AMAZING.  I’ve never had so much fun in my life and I’ve certainly never loved so much.  And “kissing nine” this morning, well that was pretty special.  I’m sure I’ll be a bigger wreck next year when you hit the double digits.  

It’s been you and me for so long, and this past year, when we moved in with the boys and got married, well it’s been a much harder adjustment for your mommy than for you.  I’ve never really been good at sharing you.  That’s why I didn’t give birth to you until the day they were scheduled to induce you to come out.  I like you being mine all mine.  I know that’s selfish, but I just enjoy so much about you.  That attitude is amazing.  Where did that come from?  You have so much of your Daddy too.  His creative side, the musical side, the laid back demeanor-that’s him.  The hyper, perky, childlike fun side…ha, ha, that’s your momma.  Silly faces and endless giggling to the point where we can’t breathe…oh yeah, momma again.   There are some days I miss our alone life so very much.  We still spend lots of alone time, but it’s very different.  You love being a “family”.  You love being surrounded by more people than I do.  B, you are going to do really great things.  Yes, even greater than showing your mommy what real love is.  

I of course, got you tons of presents.  But when I went to work yesterday, I played Tim McGraw’s song “My Little Girl” (the one we did a video of you with for your Daddy’s birthday this year), and I realized one thing.  This whole job decision has been so hard because of a comfort zone issue.  But I have the option now to choose the most important thing-time with you.  Thank you for being the one steady constant in the five years of single motherhood.  The reason I got up.  The person I crawled into bed with on all those long, lonely nights.  Your breath and warm skin soothed me more than you will ever know.  

I choose you baby.  I’m letting go of my fear of depending on someone financially and I’m jumping into a risky prospect because you won’t need any daycare or any summer care.  For the next nine years-I choose you.  I choose to spend time with you and love you and wake up with summers full of no obligation.  I may have to pull out all the stops someday and find another job or something, but for now, I’m going to take this one.  And choose…you.

Did any of you read “The Uneven Playing Field” in the NY Times Magazine?

I thought a lot about this article, and the subsequent interview on NPR, and whether or not my daughter was playing too much soccer already, at eight years old.  B loves soccer.  I coached her teams the first couple of years and loved it, but she really didn’t pay much attention to me.  (Ok, she WAS three when she started, but she really ran around in circles and picked dandelions behind the goal).  Now, she’s 8, on a premier, elite girls team and had a 4 game tournament this weekend, about two hours from home, in a 157 team event.  She enjoys it more than ever this year, does twice weekly practices and attends one or two yearly soccer day camps.  All events which she requests and enjoys participating in.  Her team is now on hiatus for a little bit, post tourney, until she starts again in the fall, indoors, with the same team.  

After her first game at the tournament-90 degree heat and only two subs, not withstanding.

This article, written by Michael Sokolove author of the book Warrior Girls, was a huge eye-opener for me. It offers evidence of the harm that is being caused to young girls bodies, by the continual practice/play of one sport, year-round.  Granted, my girl isn’t non-stop on that one sport all year, but it’s pretty intense.  So I’m going to start more actively “cross-training” with her.  Make sure we get our bike rides and roller blades and swims in, shoot some hoops and play some volleyball.  Work out those muscle groups that she doesn’t use as much in soccer, and give her “soccer muscles” some rest.  She loves doing all these things, I’ll just be a little more aware that she’s not so soccer driven.  And she’s not going to play on the city league that starts in a couple weeks, during her time off from her team.

From “The Uneven Playing Field”:

Anson Dorrance, the women’s soccer coach at the University of North Carolina, is a fierce critic of the tournament system, which he says began when the women’s game was young and good teams had to travel to find strong competition. “But now,” he told me, “everybody’s got a tournament. There’s the Raleigh Shootout, the Surf Cup in Southern California, and ding, ding, ding, they’re everywhere.” Dorrance was animated, his words coming out in a rush. “So now girls are going somewhere every two or three months and playing these inordinate number of matches. And you know what? They’re playing to survive. And the survival is not just the five games in three days. It’s the two or three weeks following. They’ve got a niggling this and niggling that — sprained ankles, swollen knees, aching backs. They were overplayed and they never rested. But part of what’s developing is this question of who’s tough enough, who can play through it?”

So what’s the answer?  The article points out that building up supporting muscles and proper conditioning and injury prevention training would be a huge help-but not many coaches are willing to “waste” valuable time on these concepts-refusing to take away time from other skills, such as shooting, learning plays, and running.  It is up to the parents to be sure that these things are done, but where is this time going to come from, when the kids are already at practice?  This part of sporting should be included in the actual sporting practices themselves.  During their off-field times, these kids need to be just that…kids.

Please moms of daughters (who tend to be more prone to these types of injuries because of our differing musculature), read these two articles and let’s brainstorm.  I want my girl to get to enjoy her soccer for years to come.  Without injury.

I’ve Come To Realize

This post by DadsHouse made me think about my dating history since I started falling in love-way back when I was 16.  My first love affair was with the senior captain of several sports teams, prom king, you know the deal.  I wasn’t interested in him at first, but all my best girlfriends were.  And they told me I was crazy to deny the affections of such a stellar young man.  (For the record, he was and still is a wonderful person-you couldn’t ask for a better first boyfriend).  So, for just about the only time ever, I caved to peer pressure and said “yes” to a big, fat, topaz birth-stoned, yarn-wrapped ring around my finger.  It was fun and I remember the first kiss, the first time he held my hand…there is nothing like that initial spine tingling sense of something you’ve never felt before.  And he had this fresh smell of fabric softener or soap.  To this day, that smell brings me back.  Anyway, digressing as usual.  The point is that although I thought we’d get married and so on, he was just the first in a long line of boys I thought I’d marry and spend forever with.  

Aaah, teenage love.

Anyway, DadsHouse’s post made me think about the pieces of ourselves that we lose when we end a relationship.  Mainly the emotional repercussions of sexual relationships.  I know I’m going to share that part of the dialogue with my daughter.  Sharing so much and such special times, hurts more when you do part…I still miss the people I spent lots of time with over the years.  Although I wouldn’t trade where I’m at, I do wonder if it would have been better to have those relationships be a little less “meaningful” maybe?  Every relationship I have, I give so much of myself and love so completely, that you can’t help but lose a sliver of yourself when it ends.  And to always have that “what if” factor?  And is that little piece you are missing more critical than the life experiences you gained while you were dating the people in question?  Some of my long term relationships taught me more about life than any college course ever did.  I learned about different types of people, various relationship skills and each partner brought something new to the table, whether it be a hobby they shared with me, a skill they taught, a book they gave me.  

The woman I am today is all even-keeled and low key, low drama, because of all those factors that combined together to make me who I am. 

But it’s hard not to wonder sometimes-especially when some of the people you left seem a much better fit for the now version of you, than they were for the then version. I completely don’t regret any of my actions, but a couple of years ago, I knew I’d screwed up big with the guy I was missing.

Do you think you left some people who would have made your life even better?

The girl knows no bounds.  I shipped her off to her Daddy’s like this today:

I’m preppy, a bit more conservative…not nearly as well accessorized.  This girl pulls it all together in a flashy, glam, trendy way.  It’s nice to see that most of my tomboy-ness did not wear off.  She’s the perfect mix.  She’s going to fireworks tonight with her Dad’s family (it’s his weekend darn it), and we took her via boat to see some last night.  Sitting on the front of the boat, talking about well, really nothing at all, I got to thinking how our traditions change depending on who we are with.  With my new husband, we take his sister and her husband and our two lovely nieces out on the boat tonight, along with his parents, to watch fireworks.  That’s obviously a new one.  B and I have always celebrated on our own or at a BBQ with my parents before now.  Divorce changed our normal routine of going to the parades and family things all together.  

What are your 4th of July traditions?  Have they changed over time?

I will never change our Christmas ones.  For some reason those seem much more concrete.