Co-Parenting and the "Idiot Dad"

Wow I'm bad at keeping up with this. Sorry Mom!

I read an interesting article last night about how people think it's funny to treat men like they're idiots when it comes to babies (and children in general). The author (a dad) is rightly bothered about a picture of a onesie his wife sent him. The onesie had "directions" on it for the idiot father how doesn't realize where the head and arms of an infant should go (with arrows!) The "joking" idea behind it being that men are idiots and are completely clueless dolts.

It's not just a random onesie, it seems to be a prevalent way of thinking. I can think of at least two recent-ish diaper commercials about a dad who doesn't change his baby's diaper but it's okay because the diapers are super absorbent and won't bother baby. And it's more than that, it's an attitude reflected in movies and on television: the bumbling dad who puts two different shoes on his kid, or feeds them junk for breakfast, and the long-suffering mother who's always right (which, as Mr. Gouveia points out, is a whole other stereotype issue).

Well, I have a 9.5 month old son, and here's what I know so far:

I'm not always right. My way isn't always the best way. Sometimes my husband's is better. 

Until I had my son I'd barely spent any time with babies or small children. You know you had? My husband, who for a time worked at a daycare and had four small nephews.

I hope I don't make my husband feel like an idiot. When he parents differently than I might I at least (usually) try to keep my mouth shut and let him do his thing, although I'll admit that I am sometimes biting back a "You're doing it wrong!". And then I feel like a real dolt when the thing I wouldn't do ends up working better than the thing I would have done.

Case in point:

A few nights ago our son was in a terrible, terrible mood when he woke up around 2 am. Like hysterics. The second time this week (I really hope it's teething, and that's it's over soon, because the poor boy just sounds miserable). Anyway, that night he was more cranky than pained, and all of my attempts to rock and nurse him to sleep in a very calm, quiet room...failed. So husband brought him out into the kitchen (But it's so BRIGHT in there!) and asked me to peel a banana to feed him (You want to give him a banana and spike his blood sugar? NOW?) I ended up feeding all three of us pieces of a banana while husband was holding him....and it calmed him down more than half an hour of rocking and nursing did (Oh, well...) It was one of those nice moments that I'll think about years from now.

Evan started fighting hard when Dave tried to put him down in the crib, and as I was hovering in the doorway, spying on them through a crack, trying to find the right moment to swoop in and say "I'll take him!" Dave put him back down in the crib and started playing "peek-a-boo" through the slats, singing to him and making funny noises. Evan was cracking up, crawling and cruising along the side of the crib, all smiles and big belly laughs. And it took a few tries, but eventually Dave was able to leave the room. Evan played in his crib, quiet and happy for several minutes until he drifted off. Happy and Calm.

Hmm...maybe I should push back his bedtime so Dave can put him to bed more often :)

Anyway, the article made me take a hard look at myself and how I think and react to his parenting. I'm mean or disparaging, but I know I definitely tend to have an "I'm his mother, of course I know best" state of mind.

But I don't, and it's unfair to both of us to assume that I'm flawless and Dave is an idiot. I married a very smart man. He can certainly figure out where a baby's head should go and to suggest otherwise, even in jest, is insulting to both of us. Yes, I spend a lot more time with Evan, but that doesn't give me the right to assume anytime Dave does something differently than I do that he's wrong. Because sometimes he's right. Sometimes his way is the better way. And that's okay. I think between the two of us we strike a good parenting balance, and I think that's the way it should be.

It's Time to Stop Treating Dads Like Idiots

Photo dump:

Liebster Award AKA Things you never realized you really wanted to know about me!

It was quite exciting to realize that A) Someone other than my mother read this and B) To have been chosen for this (I don't even care that it was random!) Thank you Jen ! 


The Rules:
1. Each blogger should post 11 random facts about themselves.2. Answer the questions the tagger has set for you, and then create 11 new questions for the bloggers you're passing the award to next.3. Choose new bloggers (with less than 200 followers) to pass the award to and link them in your post.4. Go back to their page and tell them about the award.5. No tag backs.


The 11 Random Facts About Myself:

1. I'm a natural blonde. Or at least I used to be...I haven't seen my natural hair color in like 14 years. 

2. I've never actually seen Napoleon Dynamite. 

3. I hate driving. 


4. I have a probably unhealthy obsession with Doctor Who (the rebooted series, I think the older series is just a little too campy for me). The theme song is my ringtone, and I like to bop along with it for a few seconds before I answer. 

5. With the exception of a brief 6 months somewhere in the middle I have lived with my husband since the day we met. 


6. I have never read Lord of the Rings.

7. I used to have meditate before bed in order to fall asleep. My brain would be too busy and I'd want to think about something and I wouldn't be able to fall asleep. So I would take a deep breath and slowly start counting backwards from 100, taking a deep, slow breath in between each number. I usually never made it below 90 before I was asleep. Since having my son sleep is such a luxury that I fall asleep pretty much the second my head hits the pillow. 

8. My husband and I aren't cuddly sleepers. I try cuddling with him sometimes but neither of us can fall asleep. Sometimes I think there's something wrong with us, that we both NEED our own space to fall asleep, but...eh. It works. 

9. I used to cut my own hair. Into a spiky pixie cut. And for a while I dyed it black. I'd not be able to sleep and get bored in the middle of the night and chop it off--with regular scissors!

10. I have a very dirty sense of humor. Sometimes I joke that I'm a 14 year old boy at heart. 

11.  I took a series of nude photographs of myself (thank you timer!) when I was 39 weeks pregnant. 

My questions from Jen: 

1. What is your favorite thing about yourself? I think I have a great sense of humor and can easily laugh at myself. 

2. What is your favorite thing about your significant other? He also has a great sense of humor. He never fails to make me laugh. It's one of the big reasons I married him! 

3. What is the most challenging thing about being a mom for you? Having something so small and vulnerable be completely dependent on me. Also, trying to navigate the Mommy Wars when we have set parenting "philosophy". 

4. What is your biggest fear? Losing my husband and/or son. I don't know how I could bear it. 

5. If you could live anywhere in the entire world where would you live and why? Sweden, I think. Great health care system, high happiness index, gorgeous people ;)

6. If you could meet any celebrity, who would it be? David Tennant, because I'm obsessed. 

7. Why did you start your blog? When I was younger I wrote all of the time. Life got in the way, and I stopped, and I realized that I really wanted to have that outlet. And to satisfy my urge to share pictures of my son :)

8. What are you top 3 favorite blogs to read? I love Young House Love, Enjoying the Small Things, and Smitten Kitchen


9. What is your top beauty must have product? Garnier's BB Cream. I don't wear a lot of makeup, and often none at all, so when I do I don't like to feel like I'm wearing a mask. This cream is light, evens out my skin tone and gives just a hint of color, which I love.

10. Finish this sentence: "I can't go one day without ______" Coffee. I can, but it's not pretty. I don't get nearly enough sleep to function without it. 

11.What is your worst bad habit? Probably checking my phone all the time. It's pretty unnerving exactly how addicted to it I am. 


I am giving the Liebster Award to:

Sarah - Lavender Gray
Elley - Up Above the World So High
Aly - Breathe Gently
Sarah - Que Sera...Sarah
Katie - Love Life and My Journey

My questions for you: 

1) What is your favorite time-wasting website? 
2) If you had one million dollars and had to give it to one charity what would it be? 
3) What is your fashion style (or your little one's fashion style?)
4) What's your favorite book and why?
5) If you had to start a new job tomorrow what would it be?
6) What living person would you most like to share a meal with?
7) What is the most important quality/trait you think a person should have?
8) What is your favorite children's book?
9) If you could go back 5 years and tell your younger self one thing, what would it be?
10) What's your favorite shade of nail polish?
11) What is your proudest accomplishment?

Thanks for tagging me Jen, this was fun!

8 Months and a Picnic

I'm rather ashamed that it's taken 8 months to take E outside for a picnic. In my defense...well, it was too hot and I was too paranoid when he was a newborn, and then too cold. Plus...well, I figured that picnics would be more fun when he could enjoy eating with me. 

So "Spring" has finally arrived, complete with 85+ degree temperatures. It's been hot this week and we've only spent a little bit of time outside (I think of it as gradually getting him used to the heat) but today was nice. Definitely warm, but not as gross sweaty hot. There's a storm rolling in tonight and I can taste it in the air. I decided that I should get the picnic-ing in while the ground was still dry.

AND I received my first bento supplies this morning so I had extra incentive!

Vermont white cheddar stars, blueberry Greek yogurt, quinoa, garlic-sauteed spinach, bananas. 

Fingers dipped in yogurt. Tastier than using a spoon, apparently.

Mayhaps yogurt and quinoa were not good things to take on a picnic, at least at this age, before he's mastered a spoon. Or even really tried to use said spoon. Or did anything with said spoon besides rip it out of my hands and throw it in the grass. 

Used the spoon once, then promptly discarded it into the grass.

Must put all of the things in my mouth!

             

Food coma? Sun coma? A little bit of both?

The aftermath. Seven went directly into the tub when we got home, the mat and his clothes directly into the washer.

Verdict? We both ended up covered in yogurt and quinoa. He only ate one of the cheese stars (I ate the rest). I had to suction quinoa out of his nose.

Totally worth it.

This face. Those cheeks. 

Seven hit 8 months this week. I'm completely not sure where the time has gone. It honestly feels like we just brought him home, and now there's this babbling, crawling, cruising, eating, pulling himself up little person in our lives.

Almost a toddler.

It's exhilarating to watch him learn and grow and experience the world around him for the first time and I'm so excited to watch grow up, but there's a definite part of me that's trying to slam on the breaks and enjoy him being a baby for a while longer.

1..2..3....singing loudly to keep his attention--picture snapped and he's off.

He's so big he barely feels like my baby as it is. I'm trying with everything I am to cherish this fleeting time I have while he's small and still finds comfort in my arms. Already he won't sleep in them anymore, and I fear it won't be much longer before he won't allow himself to be rocked before bed. I savor our late-night nursing sessions (I don't even mind getting up at 4 AM) because it's one of the few times he'll snuggle with me. When I nurse during the day he's so easily distracted by the world. He wants to be going going going and exploring and tasting and it's so wonderful to watch but at the same time I crave the feel of his warm, tiny body curled into mine, of his hand stroking my face or my chest, of his eyes meeting mine and smiling.

What? I'm not about to try to launch myself over the arm! Promise!

Sigh.

I made the most exquisite, luxurious, and yet quick, easy and cheap breakfast/brunch/would eat this any hour of the day from www.smittenkitchen.com. (original recipe: http://smittenkitchen.com/blog/2013/04/spinach-and-smashed-egg-toast/#more-9917) Try it. Like right now. 

Mmm...

Spinach and Smashed Egg Toast (my adaptations)

2 large eggs

4 ounces baby spinach

2 pats of butter

1 tbsp of minced garlic

Dijon mustard

Parmesan cheese 

2 slices of toast

S&P

1) Heat skillet over medium heat. Rinse spinach, don't dry. Saute in skillet until mostly wilted. Remove, drain, wipe out pan of excess liquid. 

2) Toast bread. 

3) Meanwhile, bring water to boil in small saucepan. Add eggs, cook for 5 minutes. While eggs are cooking melt butter over medium in the skillet you just sauteed the spinach in. Add garlic, cook for a minute or two. Add spinach and saute for a few minutes. Remove eggs to a bowl of cold water. 

4) While eggs are cooling off enough to handle smear just a bit of Dijon mustard on the toast. A good smear. The Dijon really makes this dish. Divy up spinach on top of bread. Grate some Parmesan cheese on top of the spinach. 

5) Peel eggs and put on top of spinach. Break (or smash) eggs on top of it all. Let the delicious golden runny yolks ooze down into everything. Liberally sprinkle salt and freshly ground black pepper. 

Yum. 

Smitten Kitchen's original post was just one egg/piece of toast. Make two. Trust me. 

Dear Sleep

Dear Sleep,

I miss you so hard.

We used to be so close, but it feels like years since we've had a good lie-down together.

It's me sweetheart, not you. You've always been there for me, you've always waited patiently while I avoided you with coffee and Red Bull. You've never judged, you've always welcomed me with open arms when I came home.

When we brought the baby home you didn't seem to understand what to do, but I can't blame you for that--a baby was new for all of us, we were all learning. And you've worked so hard to be there for my son. Some nights you and he cuddle together for hours and hours and it's oh so nice.

But we need to talk about last night, for example. Is there some reason you decided to slip away and let him wake up every half an hour for hours and hours? I wouldn't normally mind so much when you slip away because you always come right back, but where did you go last night? You didn't come to my bed until after 6am, after I'd been up most of the night with him!

Sigh.

I don't know what to do old friend. We both know this isn't sustainable for any of us.

I'm sorry for all the years I led you on, I truly am. I was young and stupid.

Please come back. Please come back to both of us. I promise to never take you for granted again. I miss you. I need you. I crave you. I love you.

How We Fight

McHubs and I had a good, long conversation last night, which was odd because neither of us are really "phone people". He's at a leadership workshop, and had been given homework that he needed to work with me on (or "the person that knows him best"). There were two questions he needed me to answer. The first asked how I felt that he handled conversations that turn (or start) difficult, or when he's "triggered". The second asked what I felt he could change to be more useful.

The former was easy. McHubs and I don't fight a lot. Or much at all. I think I can count on one hand the number of times we've fought in the past 6+ years. It's not that we don't disagree, or get angry at each other, because we certainly do. In earlier years McHubs would completely shut down. His attitude would be very "whatever" and I would do everything I possibly could to avoid confrontation and conflict, often just outright ignoring it. I grew up in a household with a lot of fighting and I hated it.

Neither method of dealing with conflict is healthy, and we became aware of the price our relationship was paying for our inability to face and work through confrontations. We split up for 6 months because we were both avoiding handling our problems….none of which were major, but resentments fester when not addressed.

When we eventually came back around to each other it was with an understanding that we can’t just pretend our problems don’t exist, especially now that we’re married. That does not make for a healthy marriage. McHubs now makes a point to be actively engaged in those tough conversations, and I don’t run away from them. I make an honest effort to explain (calmly) what I’m feeling and why and he makes an honest effort to understand my side of things. We start out with the assumption that if we’re fighting about something major there was likely a miscommunication somewhere along the way and we try to identify and address it.

During our talk last night, which evolved very naturally from discussing how he handles confrontations to how we, as a couple, fight, he explained that he often gets frustrated with me during these times. I tend to have long moments of quiet where I try to reign in my temper. I don’t like answering immediately, especially if the topic has emotional land-mine potential. I don’t want to speak to him out of anger, because I know I’ll end up saying something I don’t mean and regret. I would rather answer from a calmer, rational place. If I’m angry with him I want him to understand why, and I want to be able to explain it to him in a way that doesn't come off as attacking him. I have no desire to yell at him. I lived through enough yelling. It seems counter-productive.

Anyway, until last night I didn’t realize how frustrating those silent, collecting moments are to him. In his mind, I was trying to avoid the topic and he felt the need force the conversation anyway so that we wouldn't sweep it under the carpet. In my mind, I was trying to give myself a breather so I could respond calmly and not out of anger. This very problem came up at one of his workshops yesterday, and he was advised to "let it bake" i.e give me a chance to think things over rather than just responding in the heat of the moment. Which is what he's been doing anyway, but he felt justified hearing that it was okay to give me time to chew on a topic for a few minutes without feeling forced to immediately respond and that it wasn't just punting the conversation. He felt better about the way we handle conflicts and believes that knowing that I'm just considering what I want to say and not wanting to speak out of anger will give him the patience in waiting for my response that he's been otherwise lacking.

The second question, what he could do differently, was much harder to answer because while the way we handle confrontations is very effective for us, it's hard to extrapolate that to his job. After mulling it over for a long time I thought about how tense he gets when he's waiting for me to respond and how that can sometimes put a lot of pressure on me to answer immediately. Tension rolls off of him. So working on body language was my answer, and I think realizing that I'm thinking about an answer rather than trying to ignore the problem will help, at least in our relationship.

It was a very enlightening conversation for the both of us, and I think it will help us deal with hard conversations more effectively.

Easter weekend et al

I think I'm sick.

The timing couldn't be worse because I think the baby is sick too. He's been coughing and sneezing, and his nose is getting gunked up. And he HATES the bulb, NoseFrida. Half the time I use the nail on my pinky finger, but he hates that too. Poor baby couldn't breathe through his nose, though. There was a lot of screaming that resonated through my aching head.

As for me, I'm not too bad (yet). I have a ton of pressure that's just thisside of painful in my head. It feels like a heavy dense cloud stretching from temple to temple and centering behind my eyes. I felt it all day yesterday and was hoping that would be it, but this morning I woke up with a sore throat.

All of this would be manageable if McHubs was home, but alas, but not-sick husband has been out of town for work, and won't be home for 60 or so hours. It doesn't sound so bad when I think of it in hours! 60 hours sounds much better than 2 and a half more days.

I don't envy him. I can here in his voice how much he misses me and the boy. I can't imagine being away from Seven for a week. I can barely stand to be away from him for a few hours. And McHubs and I haven't really spent more than a weekend apart in over 6 years. Thank god for cell phones and FaceTime. I have so much respect for single and solo parents.

We spent Saturday-yesterday morning at my in-law's house to make the week easier. And, you know, Easter. The rest of the family was in town, which was great. McHub's family--my family--is wonderful. I hear  in-law horror stories and I send a whisper of thanks out into the world for our family. I hit the in-law jackpot.  I would be hard-pressed to find a family of better people, and my favorite is whomever I happen to be with that second.

Except that they got us sick, ha. Oh well. We'll muddle through, because that's just what you do.

Some of my favorite photos from this weekend:

Cousin-love. He adores E, and E adores him right back. 

Hanging out on his Easter present from his Auntie D. 

More blurry cousin-love. 

Attack of the Easter bunny! With Pops. 

What are you looking at? With Nana. 

Easter bucket. I wasn't planning on making one for him, but the Easter bunny was going to leave them for his older cousins and I didn't want them to wonder why he wasn't getting one as well. That's my excuse, anyway ;)

He immediately went all Babyzilla on it. 

Yum, more things to chew on!

Yeah, I'm cool.

What? 

With the record selection and the mirror's reflection...

I'm dancing with myself.

Peekaboo!

Heading home. 

Them Chive?

While typing in this blog address I realized that instead of The McHive it could be read as Them Chive. Mmmm them chives....