I have spent my day surfing the web and as a result, have encountered some super great blogs. In my cyber travels, I found this--and in an effort to always know where to find it-- to refer to it when I'm feel like motherhood is beating me down-- I will post it here.
"It is easier to build strong children, than repair broken men." Frederick Douglass
It is easier to support breastfeeding than pay for the health consequences of formula-feeding for the masses. You can help a mom breastfeed her baby - so much easier than treating asthma, auto-immune conditions, obesity and the rest.
It is easier to get up multiple times in a night with a newborn than treat an adult with anxiety and depression, whose earliest memories were of being left alone when they were crying for help.
It is easier to use gentle discipline than deal with violence in an adult.
It is easier to teach tolerance to a child than reform a teenage bully.
It is easier to invest in education than in prison systems.
"Easier" does not mean easy. None of those things are easy at the time - they're so hard that you might not be able to do them all, every time. That's ok - we're human. I've only been at it for 9 months, and I've already messed up on quite a few...that doesn't mean I'm going to give up trying. Ultimately, over a lifetime and in a society, it's easier than the alternative.
I'm trying to keep my long-term glasses on. I'm not trying to raise a "good baby" or an "obedient child." I am trying to raise a strong, courageous, compassionate man...who just happens to be 29 inches tall right now.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
I got up more times last night than I can remember. It’s getting easier- the getting up part. And my boobs tell me that last night was actually a better than usual night. I remember a couple of times I got up last night to smurfing noises, I put a paci in-place and he conked back out. This is rare because he usually won’t take a paci.
His reflex is still bad so I find that if I wrap his arms, he sleeps longer stretches. One of the times I got up last night, I freed his arms. He immediately rolled over, put his fist in his mouth and conked back out for nearly 2 hours!
At 2am he was ready to eat. I filled his belly and he passed out for another hour.
When all else fails I just pick him up and hold him. I sit in the glider and cradle him in my arms and take in the sight of him resting peacefully in my embrace. One of the best feelings in the world is being there for him and feeling him completely relax and calm in my arms. It’s my desire that he grows up knowing I will always be there for him and it’s beyond my pleasure to make his world a place where he feels safe and secure. Even if it takes me many sleepless months.