Category Archives: Motherhood

My life raising two wild and wonderful boys

To Liz, On Having her Second Baby

Posted on by Amy Pybus
11

Many families in my day care program have had babies over the years (and then I automatically get new customers!). But I didn’t have a blog then. So Liz, you’re the lucky one who gets to hear this lecture. I look forward to the arrival of your new baby with love and excitement! (And I know you can’t wait to get it the heck out.)

I remember expecting my Younger Son. I was thrilled and excited and so much more confident than I had been the first time around.

But I was also consumed with the thought that I was ruining his older brother’s life. Towards the end of the pregnancy my belly was so big that I could barely even hold him in my lap, and it killed me that I couldn’t give him the attention that he craved. That child who had been the center of my universe was going to have to adjust – big-time – and I thought he would hate me for it.

It was probably mother nature preparing us all for the baby who would be in my lap nursing for hours. And Older would have to cuddle next to me, instead of right on my lap. I knew the transition would be hard for him, but it was hard for everybody.

Well, when is having a baby NOT hard?

And when the baby was done nursing and tucked away in his bouncy seat, Older could have me all he wanted. Life would go on, and we would find new ways to enjoy each other’s company.

The best thing I heard while expecting Younger was that when you have your second child, “the hardest part is giving yourself over to parenting.” I thought, what have I been doing for the past three years of spending 24/7 at the beck and call of this child? Was that not giving myself over? Was that not going to be ENOUGH?

But if you have two babies, you might as well have ten, because that’s how big the difference is (I’m sorry to put that so bluntly – don’t be afraid). There is never a time when you are not needed by someone. The laundry and dishes multiply tenfold. It’s much harder to enjoy a quiet naptime (because even if your first is young enough to still nap, they’ll never do it at the same time). Even sneaking away for a few hours gets more difficult. Plenty of friends are willing to hang out with your one child. But a toddler and a baby? Not so much.

There’s the fear – as long as the baby was in my belly I knew he was safe. But as soon as he was out, and I was saddled with him in a car seat or stroller or nursing, and my toddler went running off into the woods, what would I do? How would I keep both of them safe? Just keeping one alive was hard and stressful enough.

Then I had the thoughts of, will it be my last baby? My day care provider at the time had two boys, it’s all she wanted, she was done and happy and so sure of herself. I was jealous of her confidence and always torn about making a commitment to another child. Then Younger got to be about three years old and I said yeah – that ship has sailed. But you’ll know when you know, it’s as simple as that. If times were different I’d have five kids, but this is what my lifestyle fits. And I am more than blessed and eternally grateful to have two fabulous, healthy, kind, caring boys who were meant just for me.

In fact just the other night I had a dream that I was nursing a baby and I woke up with a shudder. I told Dave and he said, “That’s disgusting.” (We’re joking, Leche League.)

Oh, and some good practical advice is to try to minimize how much the baby needs you when your older child does too. Of course that sounds impossible but you don’t want to bring home this squirmy, loud, smelly thing who’s getting all the love and attention while your older child mopes, and then to top it off keep reminding them that they can’t have you anymore because now you belong to the baby.

The best trick I found for doing that is saying something like “My hands are busy right now. I’ll help you in just a minute I promise.” Try to avoid “I’m busy with THE BABY.” Your child is going to be so sick of that damn baby – try not to point out that you’re neglecting them to play with the one who they think is replacing them.

Let her come to her own opinion about the baby. Don’t force her to play with it or say how much she loves it or help you change diapers – yet. The time will come when she’s interested (and maybe that will be right away, who knows), but let her set the pace.

And read Siblings Without Rivalry by Adele Faber and Elaine Mazlish, it will save your life I guarantee. It’s also probably a good idea to stock up on “The new baby is coming!” books from the library so you can talk to her about this in a non-in-your-face way.

I remember the first night in the hospital with Younger. Everyone had gone (remember the first baby, when Daddy’s hovering over you every moment? By the second one he’s home sleeping before the nurses tell you lights out) and it was just me and this beautiful, scrawny, pruney, stunning, perfect baby. I grabbed him out of his cradle and scared him to death – I was used to handling a wild 2-1/2 year old toddler boy.

I held him tight and told him, “We’re going to be great friends.” I felt a warmth I hadn’t had with Older, because for that poor boy I was just in a slightly constant state of panic and confusion. For this one I knew exactly what I was doing and it made the ride all the more precious.

When I look at my boys now, the unit, the inseparable pair, the brothers who have a bond I can’t even fathom, I know any worry I had was a waste of time. They have that sibling relationship that is so vital through life. You may love or hate your sibling, but there is no one else in the world who shares the same experiences and history as you. And as my friend once told me, “Everybody needs a sibling to gang up on your parents with.”

My second child was a gift to my entire family, one that I probably still don’t quite understand the magnitude of. I can’t remember what life was like before he came. I know I wondered how I could love another baby as much as I loved my first, and then I found out that my own heart had depths I couldn’t have imagined.

Embracing the Chaos

Posted on by Amy Pybus
8

Here we are: the week before Christmas and I really, honestly, truly feel like my head is going to explode. There is literally not enough time for me to do everything I need to (and those are just the things I can remember I have to do), so it’s just time to start accepting what I can’t. Bye bye, dusting. Clean the boys’ room – out of the question. Tidy up the yard – please. My family will have to accept that it’s a sloppy Christmas.

But this is nothing new, really. As a child care provider, mother of two boys who both play three sports, writer, small business owner, and wife, my life is pretty much constant chaos. Go go go go go it never stops. Needless to say, a lot slips through the cracks. And I spend a lot of time being hard on myself because of all the things I’m failing at.

When my mother calls to see how I’m doing I often start listing everything that’s hanging over my head: “Well Older needs new basketball shoes but we can’t get to the store before his next game because I have a meeting Wednesday night, and I had to go to school and pick up Younger because he was sick, so I didn’t get to write my article at naptime because I was entertaining him so I have to write after they go to bed tonight, and I won’t have time to cook dinner because we have to be at tae kwon do at 6:00 so they’ll have to eat grilled cheese again and the insurance agent called me for the fifth time to schedule the inspection but my phone died when I left it in the car overnight and speaking of which, I still haven’t gotten that rusty spot painted over and winter’s coming.”

And my mother will say, “I’m concerned that this surprises you.”

And I’ll say, “It doesn’t surprise me, it’s just my life, I’m used to it. But I still feel like I have to explain to you why everything’s in a shambles all the time.”

And she says, “You have to learn to embrace the chaos.”

Now that is a powerful sentence.

I had a mental picture of giant arms wrapping around a maelstrom of laundry, children, messy beds, lost shoes, spilled food, and undone paperwork whipping around like snowflakes in a blizzard.

I guess I embrace it in a way, because I have no other choice. I always say the most important task rises to the top, and it gets done, though maybe half-assed. I’ve had to learn how to get what I need done while cooking dinner, spelling words and shouting out multiplication answers for homework help, and trying not to trip over the cat who hasn’t been fed all day.

And that’s annoying. I want a block of quiet time to unclutter my brain. It’s frustrating not being able to sit down with a cup of coffee and plan the day in front of me: here’s what I need to get done, let me pay these bills, oh what a nice article in the paper, look at email/facebook/texts, make sure the appointments are on the calendar, check off done done done on the to-do list.

Ha. I wouldn’t even have a spot to sit down.

And even if I did, I’d hear “Mommy!” within 46 seconds.

But then I remember what Pam said one time when I was running off to a baseball game and had forgotten a plan we’d made. Instead of being mad she just told me, “I miss all that.”

And I knew exactly what she meant. Someday I will be organized and my house will be spotless – because it will be uninhabited by children. So I’m really, honestly going to embrace this chaos and just keep smiling.

Are Curriculum Standards too High?

Posted on by Amy Pybus
Reply

Recently we were offered math tutoring for our 5th grader because he scored low on the MCAS. We asked well, what is his grade in Math class? An A. But he needs tutoring? Well, not in math, but in passing the test.

It took us about ten seconds to decide that our answer was no. We’re not going to make him feel like he’s failing to help the school boost its scores.

This experience reminded me of how gypped I feel that my kids are going to school in the No Child Left Behind era. While some progress is being made in moving away from the rules of this ridiculous act, my sons are still paying the price for politics. The quality of their education is damaged because schools are required to meet test scores and show progress rather than teach whole children.

I know a lot of people whose children started kindergarten this year, and many of them have real concerns about their kids. They’re hearing from teachers that their kids won’t sit still, won’t stop what they’re doing and participate with the group, and the dreaded “she’s not learning her letters.”

I try to tell them that kids who are five years old and in kindergarten aren’t necessarily supposed to be good at these things. But because the quality of education is based on how well they can do on a test, teachers need to be able to assess growth, and their jobs are at stake if they don’t.

Our fabulous, wonderful, amazing kindergarten teacher once told me, “This isn’t kindergarten. I’m teaching a first-grade curriculum.” At the time I was apologizing for bringing in a really messy plaster handprint project that took up most of the afternoon and that she had to teach around while I pulled kids out of her lesson. But she was thrilled that I was making a giant mess.

She said, “This is what kindergarten should be. Fingerpaints, play-doh, getting dirty, fun stuff.” But the amount that she is required to cram into their little heads doesn’t leave any time for the fun stuff. When she had my older son, she was still doing a few special cooking projects throughout the year. I don’t think my younger son ever got to do one just two years later.

These are the reasons why, for many years, I’ve been fighting against curriculum standards in child care. I didn’t like it when the state changed my title from “care provider” to “educator.” I’m far too busy meeting the basic needs of seven kids to spend hours developing a curriculum plan for five different age groups (especially when whatever I plan will entertain them for ten minutes tops).

In day care I need to hold kids in my lap. I need to roll around on the floor with them. I need to sing songs and play imaginary games and make sure they get some fresh air and exercise. I need to feed, clean, change, and nap them. I need to be able to let them do play-doh for an hour and a half if they want (that really happened here, just last week, I swear).

And in school, kids need to be exposed to a variety of experiences and learning styles. They need gym and recess and downtime. They need to write and act out plays. They need to build mobiles and shoe box dioramas and study different cultures by playing their games. They need to be inspired by music and art; in short, they need all the things that are being systematically squeezed out of their education.

So if your child is being criticized for things kids their age are typically not capable of, remember to follow your instincts and know that the school may be demanding more of them than they are ready for. Know that instead of flourishing in a world of astounding new technology, our schools are becoming more draconian. That under the current model, “adequate yearly progress” means that if your child doesn’t double their skills in a six-month period, they and their school are viewed as failing. Then write to your congressman, senator, and anyone else you can think of to rid our system of the absurdity of standardized testing.

A Fall Hike (aka the Perfect Day)

Posted on by Amy Pybus
4

We had a choice to make this weekend. We didn’t know if we felt like being lazy, laying around and watching football games, or going out for an adventure.

Well, what do you think we picked?!

hiking

And it’s a damn good thing we chose the adventure, because if we hadn’t, we wouldn’t have seen THIS:

heron flight

Yes that’s right, a great blue heron in flight. Wait wait, here’s one more because I couldn’t believe I was this close, and actually had my camera with me, and turned on to boot:

love the duck in his wake

Oh wow did we make the right choice. Here he is once he landed, look at the size of him! Just breathtaking.

landed

And if we’d stayed home on the couch, we wouldn’t have stopped to pet the moss:

My little druid

"Mom - it doesn't feel real. It's so soft."

Or seen the pretty leaves:

Or unearthed this tyrannosaurus skill:

t rex

Or been able to practice free running on nature’s playground:

log running

Yep. I think we made the right choice.

Weeding the Collection

Posted on by Amy Pybus
3

The boys' bookshelf, neatly weeded

There’s nothing like a bookshelf to chronicle time passing in a child’s life. First you have the shiny new beige one that goes with the baby furniture set, filled with neatly stacked board books and a few adorably arranged softie stuffed animals. It’s tucked in the corner next to the rocking chair and lamp to create that cozy saying goodnight spot.

(It still looks sweet and perfect because the child can’t actually move yet.)

Soon it becomes littered with toys and you have to buy a bigger shelf. The child goes to school and the Scholastic books start multiplying (though you swear you won’t spend more than $10/month). You scavenge library and garage sales for treasures, older books by the authors you like and surprises that you know your kids will love as soon as you see them. Friends who know you have a day care – and piles of books all over your house – give their castaways to you.

Then one day the boys realize that the new and bigger bookshelf would be fun to climb on. You’re forced to rearrange the collection when the middle shelf collapses and an avalanche of books threatens to crush your ankles.

I’ve actually had to go to the hardware store to buy parts for my bookshelf.

The pile on my nightstand

I think being not only a writer, but also a life-long lover of books, makes it harder for me to give them up. I love the stories but I also love sharing them. The books I’ve saved through my whole life are the ones my mother bought me and encouraged me to read. (I think I have three complete sets of The Lord of the Rings.) What remains of my childhood book collection is in a waterproof box in the basement, and I get a laugh when I come across them.

I still have my Nancy Drews in that box, but I had boys, and feared they’d probably never be into those dated stories anyway. However, Younger Son and I just finished reading “The Shore Road Mystery” (my first Hardy Boys read despite the dual crushes I had on Shaun and Parker in the ’70s), so our next book shopping trip will definitely include a new mystery.

The titles on the bookshelf change over the years as well. There was the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle phase, long over. Silly SpongeBob books are gone too, though Scholastic made a killing off those. Dinosaur books have been put aside and made a comeback more than once, so they stay. As do sharks, snakes, all topics dangerous or gross. The latest obsessions include Ripley’s Believe It Or Not, Guinness World Records, and anything with and/or about ghosts.

This morning Younger and I spent some time emptying the shelves. Weeding the books is a project we’ve been working on for weeks (because of that little problem of having piles of them all over the house). For the most part I had a good idea of what he’d want to keep but there were a few I was on the fence about. The collection of pop-up books? Keep, because they’re just really cool, even if they are for littler kids. Transformers? We’re only holding onto the make-your-own story one, I think because it’s fun to play with rather than the subject matter. Magic School Bus – out. Magic Tree House – still hanging on.

The piles in our play area (I wasn't kidding)

Because I’m simply overrun, it’s been easier to move three big boxes of books out to the garage (for the tag sale we may or may not have someday, then they’ll sit there for six months and get donated when we give up on the tag sale pipe dream). But I know for sure the classics that will stay. There are some popular books that didn’t work for us (“Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs” – meh), and they go.

But here’s what stays: anything by Judith Viorst. Younger’s collection of scary stories for little ones, which got him through his first nightmares (like How to Get Rid of Bad Dreams, Harry and the Terrible Whatzit, and Favorite Tales of Monsters and Trolls). The Teacher from the Black Lagoon series (we have 16 out of 20). Goosebumps – still a little creepy, so I’ll hold onto those and see if the boys get interested or pass them by.

At one point I thought, this is crazy. Just let go and toss them all. There’s no reason to save books for my kids anymore.

And then it dawned on me. Someday, they’ll have kids.

Smile.