Lonely or Free?

Oh.my.goodness.  I've found it.  The book…I mean, THE book I have been looking for at least for the past 6 years, possibly my whole life.  It is not often that I am truly amazed by someone's writing (unless it's academic…nerd alert).  But it.has.happened!  One and Only by Lauren Sandler (2013, Simon & Schutzer) both says everything I want to say and tells me everything I have been longing to hear (and she's done her homework…it's not just lip-service).  I just started the book and it's already on my top books of all time list.  I was wondering how I was going to document all of the quotes I don't want to forget…so I decided to do it here.

I've been open about my struggles being an only child and the tough decision to have only one child (which I still struggle with on a regular basis)…I've even touched on the subject here.  It IS a continuous struggle.  As my parents grow older (and have life-altering "health events" like my mom's multiple joint replacements and my dad's heart attack and bypass surgery), seeing my friends lose their parents, witnessing my friends with siblings share in parenthood and become friends, hearing my daughter talk about being singled out (no pun intended) for being an only child, wondering how K's life  would be different if she had a sibling, hearing the evil/rude/disrespectful/ignorant comments from others about my decisions (both crushing me and insulting me…families are not one size fits all, people!)…. It's a constant internal battle for me.

I've known, pretty much since I got pregnant, that I would only have one child, despite my CERTAINTY I wanted a big family before I actually created a child.  I was not a good pregnant person.  I felt like crap.  I had a c-section that went all kinds of crazy (resulting in a postpartum hemorrhage that went undiagnosed, but that's for another time).  Buzz never wanted another child.  I did.  He didn't.  I "gave in" to "only" having one because I figured one child was enough strain on our marriage and he wanted that one.  If we had one only because I forced the issue, and our marriage went really south, that would not be good for K or her hypothetical sibling.  Plus, I wanted a career.  I HAVE an amazing career--but I was still able to spend the years before school exclusively with her, and now I have a schedule that compliments her school schedule so I still have the mommy time she needs--I need.

People call me selfish, but working is something that I need to be a mentally healthy person.  I feel like being "together" as a mom (well, as together as I get) is of the utmost importance to being a good mom--and I don't think that is selfish.  People tell me K is only as good as she is because I "only" have one--implying my life would be a total disaster and K would be a terrible person otherwise?  People have accused me of "not liking" mothering.  ON THE CONTRARY!!!  Being a mom is my most favorite, most important, BEST part of my life.  But, there are still other parts of me--and I think those parts help me be a total person, a better mom.

When I really looked deep at why I wanted another child, it was more of a longing for more of each stage with K (rather than wanting another human in my womb or in my home).  I found this blog post recently, which sums up my thoughts on that.  Looking back, though I sometimes "wished" time away (mostly because I was single-parenting with a husband in Iraq), I NEVER neglected to stop and soak up the moment.  I held her.  I watched her.  I held her some more (and was criticized I was making her too dependent--people really do need to mind their own business).  I cherished every day…I felt (and continue to feel) like the most blessed mommy on the face of the planet.  And seeing her grow up warms my heart and breaks it (a little) at the same time.  But having another child will not change that…  My family is complete.

So, back to the book…  Lauren Sandler (who I fully intend to email myself once I am finished with her work of excellence) is both an only child and a mother to an only child.  She is a journalist who cites personal experience and research on only children (and the mothers of them).  For the first time, I feel like someone gets it…gets me!  She does not preach that having an only child is THE thing to do, but recognizes that, as I have said before, families are not one size fits all.  She works to debunk the old, OLD (and stupid) myths of the only child.  I highly recommend this book not just for only children, but for anyone…it offers a unique perspective to a group of people who have been put down for far too long with zero foundation for the negative arguments.  Thank you, Laruen Sandler!  :D

Here are the paragraphs that pulled me in (and I am sure I will be back to share more), from the Introduction pages 7-13:

"In surveys that ask young women how many children they'd like to have, ultimately and ideally, no one says they'd choose to stop at one child, he [sociologist Phillip Morgan at the Carolina Population Center] tells me.  To me, that's like asking a tween girl what her perfect wedding looks like… Our ideals change in concert with our emerging realities--even more so if, as we develop, we opt to interrogate what we thought we wanted, and why we thought we wanted it.

Here are some things I want:  I want to do meaningful work.  I want to travel.  I want to eat in restaurants and drink in bars.  I want to go to movies and concerts.  I want to read novels.  I want to marinate in solitude.  I want to have friendships that regularly sustain and exhilarate me.  I want a romantic relationship that involves daily communication beyond interrogatives and imperatives--I want to be known.  And I want to snuggle with my daughter for as long as she'll let me, being as present in her life as I can while giving her all the space she needs to discover life on her own terms.  I want full participation:  in the world, in my family, in my friendships, and in my own actualization.

In other words, to have a happy kid, I figure I need to be a happy mother, and to be a happy mother, I need to be a happy person.  Like my mother, I feel that I need to make choices within the limits of reality--which means considering work, finances, pleasure--and at the moment I can't imagine how I could possibly do that with another kid…

Still, I agonize every time I see my daughter doting on a friend's baby, just as my own heart has a tendency to devour itself when I take a new tiny person in my arms… When my daughter was born, after all my anxiety about how I'd never changed a diaper…--well, I held my girl, just moments old, and I simply knew what to do.  My confidence and capability stunned me... And yet when I try to imagine doing it again, I feel even greater doubt than I did the first time…

…We need to be more assertive in questioning why exactly we believe our children need siblings.  Because if I am going to choose to have another one, while billions of other people do the same, I should be able to know the reason.

And if it's not because I want to--I mean, really want to--have another child, there's a body of supposed knowledge I need to start questioning.  For myself.  For my daughter.  And for the world I brought her into.  Instead of making a choice to enlarge our families based on stereotypes or cultural pressure, we can instead make that most profound choice our most purely independent one.  It might even feel like something people rarely associate with parenting:  it might feel like freedom."

Yes.  Just, yes...

When they're talking to someone else...

It's time again to...

And nothing warms my heart like my daughter.
I'll have to keep this short and sweet, as I am studing for a big comp exam (tomorrow--EEK!).  But I think my little lady's words say it all.

Sometimes we can find out the most about our loved ones when they are talking to someone else...

We do not go to church but K has recently been very interested in learning more about God...so we talk and share.  She asks questions and I answer them--or tell her I can't--or find an answer if I can.  This has been a challenge for me as I am not the best at discussing things like religion.  My faith has always been something that is more personal than public discussion.  But I am glad to share these things with my daughter.  K tells me she believes in God and she wants everyone else to, also.  And now, every night before she goes to bed, she says a prayer.  Here are some excerpts from her prayer last night:

Dear God,

Thank you most for Mommy.  Please help her pass her exam so she can play more, have fun, and we can go to the pool.

Please help Grandma get better and walk better.

Thank you for Mommy, Daddy, Sampson, Daisy, Grandma, Grandaddy, and MeeMaw.

Thank you for keeping us safe during the storm.

Amen

*I'm so blessed*

I'm also trying to let go of the guilt I feel for my 5-year-old knowing that I need to pass an exam in order to have more free time.  I'm still hoping I am serving as a good role model and setting an example of what strong, educated women can do and of how to take advantage of the opportunities you are blessed to be given.  I also hope I will make it through this program and get a good job, so she can truly see that a good job makes for a happy mommy--who has summers and vacations to spend with the one she loves most.  :)

And I'm also happy to know how much she cherishes our family...and how compassionately she thinks of others.  I'm glad she is able to be thankful for all of our blessings.  Mommy-hood is the best.  And sometimes, we realize it most when we hear our little ones talking to someone else.

Best Day...or, should I say Best Friday Night

In the past, I have written about how I could learn from my daughter, to dance like nobody's watching...even if they are.  Well, I'm feeling bold this week.  Yesterday I poured my heart out about something I haven't dealt well with for a while...Today, I am posting K's and my dance party from this past weekend (that Buzz videoed while laughing at us--in a nice way).  The song is "Best Day" by Taylor Swift.  If you haven't seen the actual video, you can watch it here.  It's a GREAT video, but break out the tissues--it's awesome from the mother AND the daughter standpoint.

So, without further ado, here is my dancing-with-my-daughter-in-the-dining-room-on-a-Friday-night debut.  :)

Head on over to

to hear some great songs and stories and add your own!

You can't spell EmpaThy without E.T.

Empathy-the experiencing as one's own of the feelings of another; also: the capacity for this (The Merriam-Webster Dictionary, New Edition, 2004)

I have always felt like a very empathetic person.  Even as a child, I always felt like I hurt for other people who were going through things I didn't understand.  I always anthropomorphized my pets, other animals, and (at times, as embarrassing as it is) my toys.  I think an abundance of empathy is a gift posing as a curse--or maybe vice versa.  I think it is important to feel for our fellow humans--and animals--but sometimes feeling too much can be detrimental to one's mental health!  This is why I chose the field I am in--I tried the one-on-one types of career paths--of helping others who I know need my help on an individual level (i.e. working with deaf kids or kids with disabilities).  I couldn't handle any of that.  I empathized too much.  It consumed my life and made me feel way more depressed than I can handle.  So, I'm taking another route--one in which I can help people, but from a more removed level, if that makes any sense.  And the one-on-one interactions I have with teaching college kids (or adults) is better for me.  Even the students with what I consider to be "sad" stories I am able to deal with because I know that they are in college and doing something to better their lives--and the gratification that comes from helping them on that step of their journeys vastly outweighs knowing of hardships for me.

I think I've passed this empathy on to my daughter--not sure if it's biological or social--but it's there. Last night, we watched E.T. as a family. I was a little hesitant at first.  The last time I saw any part of this movie was in 7th grade, the day after my first pet (a cat) died and I sat there and bawled my eyes out as it played on the small tv at the restaurant where my family and one of my closest friends were eating--waiting for the SPCA to open so I could adopt another cat.  So, I figured my memories of the movie were overshadowed by the sad memory of losing a pet as a little girl.

But, K's empathetic nature went into overdrive. She cried and cried.  She even started crying again when she went to bed, saying she didn't want E.T. to go away.  I reminded her it was just a movie--she said she knew but talked about how it made her feel sad.  And this isn't a child who doesn't know what it means to leave a friend.  She's a Marine's daughter--she's left friends, watched friends move away.  She understands and she handles it very well--taking it all in stride.

But her feelings...her feelings are so strong and so REAL. 

So I spent the night feeling guilty for encouraging her to watch the movie.  But then, I had to stop and realize that it's not so bad.  Empathy is not inherently a bad thing--it's a good thing if "used" appropriately.  Now my challenge is to help her use that empathy positively and not let it consume her and bring her down.  Since I don't fully know how to do this myself, it will be a big challenge.  Right now, I'm proud and humbled that my little girl, barely 5 years old, can feel so deeply for another.  She shows this on a daily basis, towards other humans, towards animals, even towards the Earth.  It was just not until we watched this movie together that I truly realized how deeply her feelings run, how she can relate on such a passionate level to "others," no matter who or what those others may be.  And I am hopeful for all that her empathy may lead her to positively experience and the ways it may help her change at least a little corner of the world--she's already changed my whole world for the better!

They grow up all too soon...

Today, I am doing a link up with the blog Goodnight Moon at http://www.goodnight-moon.org/. We are choosing a song that speaks to us this week. Since my little lady turned 5 this week, the same week that my best friend gave birth to her first baby boy, I have been thinking about how time flies and how important it is to cherish those moments when they are so "new." In honor of that, "Let them be little" by Billy Dean is my song of the week.

Time Warp

Holy moly! Where did the past 5 years go?!? I felt like an old lady today. I saw a man with a 6 month old (I asked how old he was) little boy in a waiting room today and SOUNDED like an old lady talking about how my daughter is turning 5 and it seems like she was a baby not so long ago. What a nerd, right? But it's true...sort of. It didn't always seem to be going by so quickly in the very beginning when I was sleep-deprived and she had tummy troubles. Time also seemed to stand still during deployments and various other separations. So how does it now seem that she was an infant just yesterday? I assume I'm just nostalgic for holding and cuddling with my baby girl. Now she is so independent and growing up too fast. She goes to school, has her own friends, can entertain herself... I remember when I THOUGHT I couldn't wait for so many of these milestones. Now I want to just wrap her up and keep her away from that big world that's out there...but I know I can't. And so I guess in some way I long for the days when I could protect her from everything. But I'm still enjoying every moment, even if there are skinned knees, coughs, and hurt feelings. I suppose in many ways it is exponentially "easier" now that there are no diapers, she can communicate with me, she can get a snack on her own, etc. So as I prepare for K to turn 5--a whole hand--I will keep those memories close and move on with my old lady ways of remembering the good old days and looking forward to more fun to come with my growing girl.

My daughter eats ice cream for breakfast...

Well, it's actually fro-yo so at least it has cultures. :) I used to feel bad about this but I've just accepted this fact of life now. She's not a big eater so I have resolved myself to the fact that eating something (it has cultures, calcium, and calories) is better than eating nothing--which is what she used to eat for breakfast. She eats healthy stuff in small spurts throughout the days. Oh, and she takes a multivitamin, so that's good, too, right?

Living with a 3-year-old (and all the stages before this and I am sure many more to come) has made me eat my words on SO many things. I suppose, just like everything else, you don't know what it's like until you are in the situation. Things aren't as structured or as clean in my house as I would like, but I wouldn't trade the chaos for anything in the world. (Seriously, add dogs in this mix and someone should follow me around with a camera for a bloopers show.) K is a laugh a minute and her personality shines more every day. She is polite and sensitive. She listens (most of the time) and she shows compassion for others (generally...she IS 3). She is very active which, to me, means healthy so I am not complaining (though sometimes others do--but that's their problem, not mine).

In the past, I have felt almost ashamed of my somewhat lax parenting style--but as time has gone by, I realize that no one can raise MY child better than ME--and nobody knows her better than I do. It doesn't matter what other people think. My skin is growing thicker to all of the unsolicited advice and comments--which don't seem to slow down. Instead of questioning myself when people start their judgments of my parenting abilities, I sort-of tune them out and start wondering what happened in their past that makes them think what they are doing is socially acceptable behavior. Sometimes, I just want to yell at them "HEY! I've done this mostly on my own for a long, long time. She could be a lot, LOT worse." But I figure that's not truly necessary and I probably shouldn't stoop to lower levels--plus, I have nothing to apologize for or explain to them. And then, I just decide that they are adults so it is their problem. I smile and nod--rarely do I even argue any more--and then K and I just go about our business. What does still tick me off is when people make comments to HER--she is still too young to care but when she gets old enough, I guess I will just be challenged as a parent to teach her the lesson that I have learned. And I suppose somehow I will have to find the balance of teaching her to respect adults yet realize that some adults haven't learned that age-old rule "if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all."

Yes, I am sure there are many unique challenges for us down the road. I hope that I am able to pick out the good advice from the advice that was best left as a thought in someone else's mind and not in my ear. In the meantime, I will be left wondering why people even care. Maybe they're just trying to help--I'll try to keep that perspective so that I can remain positive and less bitter about what I hear. Oh, and also in the meantime, she will continue to have her ice cream for breakfast--with sprinkles (we could all use a little more color in our mornings).