Thursday, 9 May 2013

and her little sister

Perhaps this blog deserves a new name:
"Serenity Joy and her little sister"

"Serenity Joy and the attached little sister"

We won't say where that little sister is most often attached.

I got bit by the attachment parenting bug in a bad way. Not really understanding it much. It wasn't like a did any preparation for Beanie. Well, ok, no, it was like I did very little preparation, not wanting to jinx her safe arrival with presumption.  I read a Dr. Sears' book and the book on Elimination Communication. But I don't understand healthy attachment in my bones, in my inner being. It's not something I received or saw modeled. 

In the old town, I did here some of those 'wishy washy' moms. Sounded patient but looking worn out. And I tried to pick up on their vibe, eavesdrop on their calm, unrushed phrasings.

Here in the state that thinks it's its own country, I don't hear those examples. I feel like a pariah.  And when Beanie is overcome with emotion, and those big emotions are coming out as screams and kicking and flailing, a martyr.

I just want to yell back. I want to kick and flail. Instead, I sit with her (just out of legs' reach). Occasionally asking if she wants a hug, a cuddle, milk, if she wants me to leave. Nothing to do but let these emotions wash over and out of her.

Beanie never took to a lovey. She is not attached to a blankie or a stuffed animal or a paci. She is attached to one thing, and that is me. I try not live in a place of fear, and I know she will move on when she is ready.

She refused the bottle; so when I say she was exclusively breastfed, she was exclusively breastfed. And she wasn't much into food for a long while, and I think still gets most of her nutrition from breastmilk. When she eats more food, she also tends to take more milk, so she is in a growth spurt and increases both, instead of increasing food and decreasing milk.

But I try not to live in that place of fear, fear that she'll never wean, because I know she will, in her time. Child-led they call it.

I doubt I would have parented Serenity this way. I would have been much more like the old me, like my dysfunctional parents. Serenity's death jolted me, broke my heart, which meant some rebuilding was necessary. But I do wish the learning curve was not so steep, that I wasn't still recovering from my own independent childhood.

And I want Beanie to turn to a human when she seeks comfort, and I hope both that I am always one of those people and that she learns how to pick good people to trust in her own life.

And days like today, when she got on a rollercoaster that doesn't end for an hour, I try to remember not to get on the rollercoaster too* and just be present, be the adult. But boy I wish I could throw my hands up and scream.


*A seminar speaker at out Montessori school, in talking about teens, said that they get on these emotional rollercoasters (which may sound something like 'I hate you') and that parents shouldn't get on with them and that often, the kid gets off and the parent is still on. Made soooo much sense. And so my mom and I. And I also read somewhere that toddlers are extremely intense and require alot of the parent; Then there is this golden age that the kiddo is really settled into themselves; And then they become teens and it's all toddlerhood in a big body with hormones. So, anything I hear about teens, I ferret away, maybe for now, maybe for later.

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