The Toddler Dance

If there is one thing I hate more than anything it is the just you wait and see smug-mom look. This typically comes from moms whose babies are older than yours. I remember the first time I saw it. I had just joined my Mom’s Group and I naively asked what I had to look forward to. One mother quickly chimed in, offering advice and wisdom, as her toddler carefully sorted through grass and dirt and decided that the grass looked much more delicious. I’ve recently come to the conclusion that if I could go back in time, I’d definitely be the one giving myself that look. These days I have to ask, what in God’s name was so difficult about taking care of a baby? Let’s put the sleep deprivation aside for a moment and pretend that doesn’t exist (which is exactly how second babies are conceived). Babies cannot really do anything and they nap for over half of the day! 

Fast forward to full blown toddler-ville, where I don’t have to worry about Charlotte eating grass since she is terrified of it, but she did get stuck in the doggie door today, and she napped for a grand total of one hour and fifteen minutes.

Now, I obviously do know what was so hard about being the mother of a young baby. It was the lack of sleep, the baby's overwhelming dependency on you and the drastic life-altering reality that is new motherhood. With each stage there is a dance and no matter what, you will always feel like you’ve both arrived a few weeks late to the disco. Once you actually get into a groove, you are so gosh-darn proud you may even pat yourself on the back, just in time to watch ‘em hit a new milestone and oh so quickly, paradise is lost. Every stage has its challenges and rewards. I tend to look back and think that one had to be the toughest, then suddenly the dance changes and sure enough, I’m right back in the fetal position on the playroom floor, while Charlotte prances around me as we listen to the Raffi station on Pandora (visualize Max from Where the Wild Things Are). For all our missteps, the way my heart feels when Charlotte shares her joy with me, be it through books, songs, kisses, or her pure adoration of our dogs, it is absolutely worth it. So I can smugly say, with zero percent confidence, to all you moms whose babies are younger than mine, that the toddler dance is by far the hardest and most exhausting.

Me and my dance partner

Toddlers and Teenagers

I got to thinking last night as I was reading the novel Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail, about a trip I took with my Dad when I was a teenager. We went with my uncle and his daughter, my cousin (who will become a mother in May!), up to Yosemite during one summer vacation. Our Dad’s had it all planned out. Which trails, plural, we would hike; which gear we should buy; everything. What they hadn’t planned for was the impact of bringing two very temperamental teenage girls during their peak of self-brooding and general selfishness. My cousin and I made it on one 7 mile hike and at the end of it threw the teenage equivalent of a toddler tantrum. Our Dad’s wanted us to appreciate the beauty of Yosemite while carrying 60 pounds on our backs and we wanted to bring our Butane hair curlers and roast marshmallows. Eventually our Dad’s succumbed to the inevitable, and we left our backpacks in the luxurious tent cabins as we set off on day hikes and went river rafting.

Our one and only hike

Everything about that trip embodied what I’ve learned about parenting so far. And incidentally teenagers are a lot like toddlers: moody, unpredictable, and often resort to non-verbal body language to get their way. As parents, often our best laid plans get sidetracked, because ultimately the person at the steering wheel is not us, it’s our kids. If they wake up on the wrong side of the crib, it looks like you will be in for a rough day. My dad and uncle meticulously planned a trip that they had done with their dad decades earlier, but my cousin and I had a very different trip in mind. Sure you could look at us as bratty teens, but ultimately we did find a happy medium.  Our Dad’s got what they wanted, bonding time with their daughters and my cousin and I got white water and s’mores.

Post-rafting and all smiles

Looking back on it, that time with our Dad’s was sacred, just like this precious time I am spending at home with Charlotte. It all comes down to love and forming a deeper attachment. Parenting can be about power struggles and schedule maintenance, but in most cases it is about listening to your child’s needs and wants, and accepting that your life will forever be a series of compromises. Life is no longer totally on your terms; it’s on theirs. I’ve seen parents fight to have their children adjust to fit into their former child-free lives, often resulting in tears and frustration. And the kids are usually not happy either.  Ultimately the happiest families are those who create a new normal, centered around their child’s age-appropriate needs, sprinkled with the recognition that sometimes backpacking turns into rafting and a Saturday night with a toddler looks like story hour with stuffed animals.

What backpacking looks like now

The Organic Rabbit Hole

Having a baby has changed the way I look at the world. If I’m being honest, before becoming a mom, I never gave serious thought to terms like: organic, biodegradable, and high fructose corn syrup. Now I haven’t fallen completely down the rabbit hole, because once you start digging, not only would you never leave your house, but you would discover things like chicken abuse and that Johnson and Johnson’s shampoo contains formaldehyde. Sometimes you learn something you wish you hadn’t. For instance, on the list of loves of my life are: my husband, my baby, and my Keurig, I have come to find out that Keurig capsules are not biodegradable and.... the inventor himself regrets ever having come up with the idea. Now I can’t stop picturing my daughter one day building her dream home on a huge pile of used K-cups because the Earth itself has suddenly become Garbage Island. Do yourself a favor and do not Google Garbage Island. 

Outside the birth of my daughter and my wonderful eco- friendly sister in-law (hi Michele!), my organic introduction came via The Honest Company. I literally thank my sister and her husband every day for giving us a two year supply of diapers as well as a host of other organic products from The Honest Company like laundry detergent and shampoo (that don't contain the same ingredients they use to preserve dead frogs for science experiments). Thanks to these stepping stones, my eyes have been opened to organic baby food pouches and companies like Farm Fresh to You. Also, after successfully breastfeeding Charlotte for a year (air high five!) we've now moved onto cow’s milk and I've discovered the wonderment that is organic milk. Growing up we bought so much milk each week the checker literally asked if we bathed in it. Indeed, my 6’0 tall family is a walking advertisement for the milk slogan “does a body good”. I cannot believe it took me 30 years to realize what real milk should taste like. Despite the minor dent in our savings account (don’t ever go to Whole Foods on an empty stomach) I have only encountered positive changes in our lives since I started to pay attention. In my free time you will not find me hugging a tree or posing nude for PETA’s “I’d rather go naked" campaign but I have evolved into a somewhat “crunchy” mother and it’s downright delicious. 

Honestly, how cute are these diapers?