Dear Kara,
I'm writing this post while sitting on the right side of the couch with the laptop on my lap and Teddy (my 5-week-old son, for the people who aren't you reading this) lying to my left, tucked between my leg and the back of the couch. It's a great position for us because while he sleeps, he writhes around, inevitably knocking his pacifier out of his mouth, resulting in a piercing yelp of discomfort followed by crying. However, in this position, I can beat him at his own game; I can hold the pacifier in place while his hands thrash around, which typically results in him going right back to sleep. (Yay!!)
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| Burping, Part 1 |
Truth be told, I still may order the book. I'm not sure. Some of what Senior had to say I didn't want to hear: how hard it is to be a parent, how marriages typically take a hit, etc. But then some of the things she said made me excited about the road that lies ahead. For example:
Senior tells Terry:
The adolescent brain is this really interesting thing. First of all, the prefrontal cortex is not quite done developing. And the prefrontal cortex is what is responsible for kind of rational decision-making and planning and impulse control. So there's a reason that, like, teenage kids, like, take dumb risks. You know, I mean the mechanism that actually should be functioning as their break pedal is not fully developed; it's a rather weak break.
They also tend to sort of overestimate the reward that they will get from taking risks, which is interesting to me. Their brains are just awash in dopamine, which is the feel-good hormone, so they feel everything very, very, very intensely - and that's everything from crushes to, you know, rejection. It's the good and the bad. So it's a real adventure having been in the house.
Awash in dopamine! Crushes! Rejection! Doesn't that just remind you of high school? And won't that be fun/fascinating to witness?
This section of the interview I found to be equal parts scary and fun-sounding:
Again, here's Senior:
They also tend to sort of overestimate the reward that they will get from taking risks, which is interesting to me. Their brains are just awash in dopamine, which is the feel-good hormone, so they feel everything very, very, very intensely - and that's everything from crushes to, you know, rejection. It's the good and the bad. So it's a real adventure having been in the house.
Awash in dopamine! Crushes! Rejection! Doesn't that just remind you of high school? And won't that be fun/fascinating to witness?
This section of the interview I found to be equal parts scary and fun-sounding:
Again, here's Senior:
Toddlers do not have the machinery to reason. They live in the permanent present, they barely have any prefrontal cortex to speak of. But all of us seem to make the same mistake. We argue with them as if logic played - will have any sway over these kids...
It's one of the hardest things for parents to do, but... if you can live with your kid in the permanent present, it's a lovely place to be and it's why people, when they meditate try and be in the permanent present. I mean there's a lot to be said for living right in that moment right there with your kid, eyeball to eyeball. They also they live tacitly, you know, they live like through their senses, so they're all about, like, kind of getting their hands gooey, playing with Play-Doh and mud and stuff like that. And, you know, they like building things and making snow forts. And if you can just suspend all that noise, if you can just ignore that running endless tickertape of concerns that's just looping and whipping through your head, it is glorious.
OK, this nap of Teddy's is definitely winding down. But what do you think? Does this book sound like a winner to you?
I'm currently following the guidance of Harvey Karp's The Happiest Baby Guide to Great Sleep: Simple Solutions for Kids from Birth to 5 Years, which has you swaddling your baby for all naps and nighttime sleeping, and sometimes, mostly when Teddy is fighting the swaddle for access to his hands, I wonder if these books are part of that noise Senior is talking about in the above section. I mean, people have been parenting since the beginning of time without all of these books, just intuiting their babies' needs by simply observing them. OK, he's basically awake.
On that note, I must go and observe him!
xoxoxo
2/25/14
Dearest Amelia,
Well, what excuse can one make? That it is winter, that I'm 35 weeks pregnant, that I really like to sleep? The week-plus-four-days it took me to write back might be some indication of my schedule of late, as in, WTF, World? Could you slow down for one measly minute? There's a pregnant lady here. Thank you.
But wait! You were talking about being present. Sinking into the noise, embracing the chaos, letting go of logic. Right? Let's just say, the noisemaker my friend gave me for when my baby arrives is already being employed nightly, because nothing sounds better to me than its fake waves crashing against its speaker. I need a lot of presence right now. In fact, I'm starving for it.
I am also glad you brought up this book, All Joy and No Fun: The Paradox of Modern Parenthood, because someone close to me recently referenced this idea of the teenage brain, and while this person was horrified by the lack of teenage brain cohesion, all I could think was, That sounds awesome! I can't wait to have a teenager!!!
And it's true. I've always liked teenagers because of, I suppose, their raw transactions with life, their lack of inhibition when it comes to creativity, and their rad bed-head.
In your last Grizzly & Golden post, you wrote, ...what I'd rather be is the mom who, while she may not be doing everything the way she'd hoped, or perhaps with as much grace as she'd have liked, can stop the spiraling down, forgive herself for not living up to her expectations, and move on.
Therefore, in a year, you report back about how being a graceful mother is going. In 12 or 13 years, I will report back about living with a teenager. Specifically, which of us - the child or myself - is daily consuming more sugar.
I stumbled upon a review today of a book called Raising Happiness, which I will not be reading, mostly because my brain is fried from birthing books and I need some fiction and/or memoir to retreat to my beloved, dreaming, right-brain happy space.
I have heard about the book Raising Happiness but, as you say, cannot bring myself to read many parenting books. (This reminds me of the time I told my boss I wanted to have kids "just to see what happens." He found this a terrifically bad idea but I stand by it. I want to see what the little souls will dream up. I want to egg on their wildness and see what they discover without maniacal coaching, grooming, expectation, etc.)
What I liked about the reviewer's blog post, however, was the following excerpt she highlighted (and yes, I'm quoting a blog quoting a book. English professors everywhere may now throw up):
According to Carter, “emotions in general are just plain contagious.” She goes on to tell us of the various studies that demonstrate the link between depressed parents and “negative outcomes” in their children – and of evidence that shows that kids “reap the benefits” when their parents are happy.
I was thinking this morning what attributes might possibly benefit someone as a mother. One I could point to and feel somewhat good about was knowing how to take care of oneself. I don't know how sustainable self-care habits are once a babe actually arrives, but I do know the value of them, and believe in tending to them stubbornly, above all else. The excerpt from Raising Happiness made me feel a little better about all the plans I have to keep my writing habits and baking sprees and to get boat loads of fresh air. Is it possible my journaling-with-headphones-on happiness will be that contagious, that my child will "reap the benefits" of some mild but pleasurable forms of neglect? I sure hope so! If not, we might all be screwed.
XOXO & Thanks in advance for all the parenting advice you'll soon supply!
Kara
It's one of the hardest things for parents to do, but... if you can live with your kid in the permanent present, it's a lovely place to be and it's why people, when they meditate try and be in the permanent present. I mean there's a lot to be said for living right in that moment right there with your kid, eyeball to eyeball. They also they live tacitly, you know, they live like through their senses, so they're all about, like, kind of getting their hands gooey, playing with Play-Doh and mud and stuff like that. And, you know, they like building things and making snow forts. And if you can just suspend all that noise, if you can just ignore that running endless tickertape of concerns that's just looping and whipping through your head, it is glorious.
OK, this nap of Teddy's is definitely winding down. But what do you think? Does this book sound like a winner to you?
 |
| Burping, Part 2 |
xoxoxo
2/25/14
Dearest Amelia,
Well, what excuse can one make? That it is winter, that I'm 35 weeks pregnant, that I really like to sleep? The week-plus-four-days it took me to write back might be some indication of my schedule of late, as in, WTF, World? Could you slow down for one measly minute? There's a pregnant lady here. Thank you.
But wait! You were talking about being present. Sinking into the noise, embracing the chaos, letting go of logic. Right? Let's just say, the noisemaker my friend gave me for when my baby arrives is already being employed nightly, because nothing sounds better to me than its fake waves crashing against its speaker. I need a lot of presence right now. In fact, I'm starving for it.
I am also glad you brought up this book, All Joy and No Fun: The Paradox of Modern Parenthood, because someone close to me recently referenced this idea of the teenage brain, and while this person was horrified by the lack of teenage brain cohesion, all I could think was, That sounds awesome! I can't wait to have a teenager!!!
And it's true. I've always liked teenagers because of, I suppose, their raw transactions with life, their lack of inhibition when it comes to creativity, and their rad bed-head.
In your last Grizzly & Golden post, you wrote, ...what I'd rather be is the mom who, while she may not be doing everything the way she'd hoped, or perhaps with as much grace as she'd have liked, can stop the spiraling down, forgive herself for not living up to her expectations, and move on.
Therefore, in a year, you report back about how being a graceful mother is going. In 12 or 13 years, I will report back about living with a teenager. Specifically, which of us - the child or myself - is daily consuming more sugar.
I have heard about the book Raising Happiness but, as you say, cannot bring myself to read many parenting books. (This reminds me of the time I told my boss I wanted to have kids "just to see what happens." He found this a terrifically bad idea but I stand by it. I want to see what the little souls will dream up. I want to egg on their wildness and see what they discover without maniacal coaching, grooming, expectation, etc.)
What I liked about the reviewer's blog post, however, was the following excerpt she highlighted (and yes, I'm quoting a blog quoting a book. English professors everywhere may now throw up):
According to Carter, “emotions in general are just plain contagious.” She goes on to tell us of the various studies that demonstrate the link between depressed parents and “negative outcomes” in their children – and of evidence that shows that kids “reap the benefits” when their parents are happy.
I was thinking this morning what attributes might possibly benefit someone as a mother. One I could point to and feel somewhat good about was knowing how to take care of oneself. I don't know how sustainable self-care habits are once a babe actually arrives, but I do know the value of them, and believe in tending to them stubbornly, above all else. The excerpt from Raising Happiness made me feel a little better about all the plans I have to keep my writing habits and baking sprees and to get boat loads of fresh air. Is it possible my journaling-with-headphones-on happiness will be that contagious, that my child will "reap the benefits" of some mild but pleasurable forms of neglect? I sure hope so! If not, we might all be screwed.
XOXO & Thanks in advance for all the parenting advice you'll soon supply!
Kara
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