parenting – Urban Suburban Mommy

And then it was HIGH SCHOOL!

Posted on July 6, 2022 by Urban Suburban Mommy Posted in The Struggle is Real, Urban Suburban Mommy .

It was just his first day of kindergarten. KINDERGARTEN! I’d worried and stressed about the right school. I’d checked out all of the local options and lost a lot of sleep trying to make the right decision.

I landed on an alternative school that was run by the public school board in our area. With its outdoor program and left-leaning values I was sure this was a perfect match.

And it was, for quite some time.

I put in time parenting my baby, nurturing, growing, daycare, school drop-offs, concerts, plays and field trips. I was class parent, student council member, made costumes and cakes and sent in treats for parties, bake sales and movie nights.

And now it’s over.

He graduated from Grade 8. My Little Bunny has reached the next level. He can roam free on his own without supervision. He makes mature, sometimes wildly inappropriate jokes. He might just be a bit smarter than me, I’m ready to admit it.

And I need to stop calling him Little Bunny. (Out loud, anyways, in my head I will NEVER stop!)

When I was pushing the boundaries of teenagerdom my mom realized she wasn’t done with having little bunnies around, and at 35 she had my sister. My parents were definitely considered “older” but having more children in your 30s wasn’t terribly uncommon in the ’80s.

As good girls did in the ’60s, my mother got married at 21 and had me – her first – at 24, with my brother following along 2 years later. By the time my parents got around to having #3, my brother and I were old enough to help with the new kid. We diapered, and fed, and babysat and helped with it all.

But that’s the thing with starting a family at 40-ish. By the time I realized that I wasn’t done with baby bunnies, my body was like “sorry sistah, that mall has closed.”

There would be no second act, no time to add one more. In your 20s and 30s it’s more often an active decision you make about whether to have more baby bunnies, but when you start pushing 50, it’s not terribly likely that you have any say in the matter. Even looking into adoption, while there is no upper age limit, the hoops can get harder to jump through. And as any 40-ish parent knows, the ‘grandparent’ comments do start. Babies at 50? I know people who have had surprises at 50+, and the ‘grandparent’ comments just don’t stop.

So what I’ve been wondering is, do we “late maternal age”-ers hold on tighter? Because we can’t extend the baby time, do we impose our emotions on our young adults? I feel like I’ve had to work extra hard to loosen the reigns and lengthen the leash and let them fly on their own. I even romanticize those days of extra bedtime stories and snuggles, looking back longingly – when, in actuality, I just wanted them to go the f#$% to bed most nights, and was exhausted beyond all reason by the time their nighttime routine was complete.

We went to his Grade 8 graduation and I loved every minute of it. I love that he didn’t want to fall in with the troops and get formalwear, because it’s just not him. I love that he rolled with it and went for me, even though he didn’t see the big deal about grade 8 graduation. I loved all of it.

What I didn’t love was accepting it all. He’s no Little Bunny, he’s a big kid. A teen. A high schooler. He’s making his own decisions and cooking up his own plans.

At 50 with children that are really starting to flex their independence, I have this constant feeling like I’ve got handfuls of sand. The more I try to hold onto them and keep all the moments and memories of sand wrapped up safe and tight, the faster the grains of sand slip through my fingers and into the past.

So onwards and upwards to high school, but I’ve decided that he may have to put up with me calling him Little Bunny just a little longer.

Raising Boys and the Art of Poop

Posted on May 26, 2017 by Alexis Nicols Posted in The Struggle is Real .

I’m raising three boys. I married one, gave birth to the other two.

Before you label me an emasculating nag, let me just tell you that my husband is an awesome father and partner, and he routinely scrubs the finish off of my plastic cookware, at least he’s doing the dishes.

Also, he once tried to fix an electrical outlet with a butter knife. While the power was still on. So, that’s what I’m working with.

photo: Jay Bohnsack

The trajectory of learning to raise boys was not so much a curve, but rather an abrupt drop that plummeted to the depths of sanity, with me shrieking all the way. I have a sister. My mom has a sister. My maternal grandmother had two sisters.

“Girl” is a language I’m familiar with.

My husband prepared me for raising boys in bits and bites; by the time I was pregnant with my first child, I was ready to have a toilet seat perpetually raised, a trail of clothing on the floor (presumably, to help him find his way to the kitchen) and an affinity for sports. My husband was rebellious and untamed back in his day (he specifically asked that I not mention the time he stole a street cleaner, so I won’t.) We thought we could anticipate and be prepared for anything our boys threw at us.

As it turned out, we were dumb.

Boys are encoded with baffling behaviour and unexplained rituals. Every time I catch up, something new comes along. If you have any insights on the following, I’m all ears:

Mess:

Imagine a dumpster fire. Now it’s in your living room. My home is a constant eruption of indelible markers, old food, new food and toys that are designed to break the sound barrier and the human spirit. I don’t need a nanny, I need a priest.

Smell:

I’m not talking about the obvious shaboomie in the diaper after taco night. I’m talking about the pervasive, insistent aroma that follows my boys around. Nate’s natural smell seems to be yogurt and dirty running shoes. And sometimes poop. Which leads me to…

Poop:

My kids are obsessed. They talk about poop constantly. They think it’s the most hilarious word in the English lexicon. Nate has even developed a highly sophisticated language whereby every other word is “poop”. It took a while to crack the code, but now we watch Frozen together and happily sing along to “Let It Poop.”

Danger:

If there’s a way to climb something, dangle from somewhere or perch precariously on something that’s not meant for climbing, they will find it. The calm, centred, nurturing Mama inside of me says “They’re just testing their boundaries. Let them explore.” The part of me that’s attached to my face screams “For the love of GOD get off that scaffolding before you break your neck!”

What I couldn’t have known, what no one prepared me for, was the utter love and devotion my boys have – for me. While I was busy falling in mad, deep, crazy love for my kids, I hadn’t noticed that they were doing the same thing. Of all the “boy stuff” I was unprepared for, that surprise was the most welcomed.

Answering the call of the wild

Posted on May 4, 2017 by Alexis Nicols Posted in The Struggle is Real .

So you’ve decided to go to the bathroom by yourself. You know as well as I do that your kids will turn your home inside out in the time it takes you to post a blog (ahem), but congratulations on taking a giant leap of faith.

Presumably, your children have graduated from teeny tiny helpless beings who either had to be buckled into a bouncy seat in the bathroom while you showered, or contained in a high chair while you prepared a meal that was ultimately thrown on the floor. If they can amuse themselves or each other for five minutes, you have a clear window of opportunity.

photo by Lida

Suddenly, you hear a noise. Here’s a 5-point checklist to determine if you have enough time to click Add To Cart:

1. A single shriek/scream/yell:

Pause, and listen. Do you hear another one? Does anyone have panic in their voice?

No?

Congratulations. You can now finish typing a morally outraged response to someone’s anti-vaxx post.

2. Laughter:

There’s nothing I love more than the sound of my children laughing. Unless the laughter is at my expense or because they’ve discovered how to access or break something. In my home, hearing a child laugh either means they’ve uncovered something witty on YouTube Kids, or the older one has encouraged the younger one to draw stylized poop motifs on the wall with scented markers.

You have two choices: stay put and finish Candy Crush, or investigate. Proceed at your own risk.

3. A pattern of screaming/silence/crying:

The silence means that your child is drawing breath for the next round. Children did this in prehistoric days to alert their parents to their location. Or drive them away. If there’s more than two in a row, you can assume there’s bodily damage. Today just isn’t your lucky day.

4. The tattle:

Preschoolers will intentionally insert themselves into an elaborate play-by-play of events that are none of their business. It’s maddening. Imagine sportscaster Paul Romanuk describing the hockey game, only instead of shouting “He shoots, he SCORES!” you hear “He pooped on the FLOOR!”

I assume the innateness of tattling is also evolutionary and was once prudent to survival, but it’s doubtful that any of those Tattlesaurus Rex’s made it to adulthood. Tattling can totally work in your favour, as long as you use it like a newsfeed to determine if an objectionable action by a sibling is benign or involves dropping heat.

5. Silence:

This can mean one of three things:

A) They’re playing quietly together in perfect symbiosis. Document the moment and enjoy.

B) The rapture has claimed them. Consider an afternoon of Real Housewives and chocolate-covered pretzels. They’ll be returned to you soon enough.

C) You should prepare for mutiny and total destruction on the other side of the door. Add Lord of the Flies and The Art of War to your reading list.

Momologist, Alexis Nicols

Alexis Nicols is a marketing specialist, actor and freelance writer. She lives in urban Toronto with her husband and two sons, but is definitely suburban at heart. She regularly dodges the slings and arrows of parenting boys, considers herself a connoisseur of stretchy pants and hopes that the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t a train.

For more musings from a mom who wonders when everything below the neck went National Geographic, visit her blog: stopstopcomehere.ca

Kids’ stuff I wish someone would invent

Posted on April 27, 2017 by Alexis Nicols Posted in The Struggle is Real .

If you’re like me, you have all the time in the world to daydream about how easy this parenting gig would be if you only had a (fill in the blank).

For every step forward in the “useful kids’ crap” category (see Gro Clock), there is a giant leap backwards (see Child disassembles Gro Clock with the accuracy and precision of a bomb specialist.) I’ve gone one step further and leaped so far out of the box that the items listed below can only be found in the realm of science fiction. Still, a mom can dream, can’t she?

1. A feat of engineering that keeps bathtub water IN the bathtub and off the floor.

Perhaps an invisible force field or a film that keeps water where it belongs. I’d even try sonar that prevents children from turning the tub into a wave pool like a Kraken on, well…crack. So far, I’ve tried a garbage bag and a clear storage bin but as of yet have been unsuccessful.

2. A baby/toddler/pre-schooler-to-English translator that plugs directly into your ear.

Imagine – no more figuring out which cup they want, no more wondering why your child is crying for the eleventy-hundredth time (in the past hour). “Nooo!” becomes “I would gladly play with that parent-approved, educational toy.” At the very least, if no translation could be found, the ear plug would pump in the soothing, dulcet tones of Enya or Yanni Live at the Acropolis.

3. Food that instantly becomes whatever your child wants.

Chicken fingers? No problem. Oh, you changed your mind? Bam! Macaroni! Bonus points if every dish magically has four times the nutritional value of my preschooler’s current diet of plain hamburger buns and air.

4. A magic bed.

I’m probably the only parent alive who has problems with her children sleeping in their own bed (or sleeping at all), but bear with me. If someone created a bed that could transport my child to Slumberland and keep him there until the sun actually rose, I would literally just give that sorcerer all of my money. Note: I would also accept a mattress that cuts the bedtime nonsense down from two hours to twenty solid minutes.

5. Toys that don’t lose their pieces.

Or have sharp edges. Or get caught in an air vent. Or up a child’s nose. Or don’t require batteries. Or cause dents in a child’s skull when his younger brother clobbers him with it. So, basically a sponge.

6. Liquid patience.

If only there was a magical liquid that could soothe a mommy’s frazzled nerves and transport her feelings of rage and inadequacy to a far-off place. I would name it after the sound it creates when it first passes the lips: Merlooooooot……

Note to self: stop by the liquor store.

Want To Rip A Hole In The Time/Space Continuum? Have Kids.

Posted on February 27, 2017 by Alexis Nicols Posted in The Struggle is Real .

Want to feel smart? Being a mom is like being a physicist, and every day is an experiment in time, space and sanity. Consider some of these basic principles (and yes, I do spend long nights awake):

Often, I’m creating time where time does not exist.
While two bodies cannot occupy the same space, two smaller bodies can fuse themselves to my exoskeleton while I’m trying to sleep.
The speed of light is constant. The speed at which my younger son can launch food across the table is faster than the speed of light, which pretty much makes him a tachyon.
And he’s not even two.
The acceleration of an object – say, a sharp pointy toy – by an applied force is related to the magnitude of the pain it produces in my face.
An object in motion tends to stay in motion.
And loud. It also tends to be loud.
For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. For instance, the volume of my voice goes up equally and exponentially to the crap my kids get into.

Mummyhereandthere.com

So there you go. The next time you’re feeling down because your house is a mess or your kids are testing the Doppler effect at a pitch only dogs can hear, take a moment and know that we’re all occupying the same space. The results may be different, but that’s part of the experiment.

New Year’s Resolutions for Parents

Posted on December 30, 2016 by Urban Suburban Mommy Posted in The Struggle is Real .

Let’s play a game. It’s called New Year’s Resolutions for parents. Since parents don’t get paid for parenting, we figure it’s the perfect time to strategize an income stream.

Don’t ask me whose paying for all of this, but parenting is hard, it deserves a six-figure salary, and this is how it will work: Imagine if you could get paid for keeping these New Year’s Resolutions. How much would your parenting salary be in 2017?

Will not yell at the kids $2,500
Will not threaten the kids with taking away toys $2,500
Will not use food as a bribe $2,500
Will not use toys as a bribe $1,000
Will not give in to the kids just to avoid parenting $5,000
Will make them clean their rooms $1,500
Will make them do their homework $500
Will not do their homework for them to get it done $1,000
Will not give them treats to make them like me $2,000
Will not hide in the bathroom eating ice cream or chocolate $10,000
Will not hide in the bathroom to eat their Easter chocolate $5,000
Will not hide in the bathroom to eat their Halloween candy $5,000
Will not fight with spouse/partner in front of kids $10,000
Will not finish off whatever food the kids leave behind instead of wrapping it up $2,500
Will not consider the leftovers to be dinner in lieu of preparing a proper meal $5,000
Will make bedtime a priority $1,000
Will read more to the kids $2,500
Will make more time for myself $5,000
Will make time for my relationship $5,000
Will skip cleaning up in favour of play time $5,000
Will skip cleaning up in favour of a little me time $2,500
Will not make two dinners because the kids are fussing about the meal $1,000
Will not sweat making extravagant meals and instead focus on simple and nutritious $2,000
Will stop putting junk food in their lunches $500
Will stop buying junk food for myself with the justification that it can go in the kids’ lunches $1,000
Will not steer their friendships based on which parents I like $5,000
Will let them dress themselves, even if they look crazy $2,500
Will show them instead of doing it for them $5,000
Will give them a chance and then follow through with consequences $10,000
Will give them the opportunity to redeem themselves $5,000
Will be their parent first, their friend second $10,000
Will not ask medical advice on parenting forums/Facebook groups $5,000
Will not start parenting wars on parenting forums/Facebook groups $5,000
Will not confine my boy to “boy toys” or my girl to “girl toys” $10,000
Will make them take responsibility for pet care $500
Will not lie about why they can’t have a pet, “Because I don’t want one” is good enough $1,000
Will limit screen time to what I *actually* tell people I limit it to $500
Will fess up the real amount of screen time I give my kids when asked $2,500
Will not embarrass them on the schoolyard because I need another kiss goodbye $1,000
Will start lengthening the leash and not hover $5,000
Will not tell them to “Stop It!” when they start with the “But why…” $10,000
Will not lie about stores being closed so you don’t have to buy something $50
Will do more activities, arts, crafts and games and less family TV time $5,000
Will not feel bad about falling behind on laundry $2,500
Will make time to get sandy at the beach or wet in the snow $10,000
Will worry less about wrinkles and embrace laugh lines more $2,500
Will not set the clocks back for an early bedtime $1,000
Will do better to hide the evidence of throwing away school art and projects $1,000
Will say “Yes” more and “No” less $2,500
Will stop getting angry at that sound they like to make, and noise in general $3,000
Will balance parenting with my own identity and needs $50,000

So, what’s your income and what is your big resolution of the year? Any that we’ve missed?

Keep Calm and Don’t Forget The Snow Pants

Posted on November 21, 2016 by Alexis Nicols Posted in The Struggle is Real .

If I were to measure my success as a parent by the number of things I had to remember in an average day, I would be, at best, a mediocre caregiver. You might let me walk your dog and water your plants while you were on vacation, but you probably wouldn’t let me use a spreading knife to butter little Johnny’s toast.

Today was the first bitterly cold day of the season, marking the arrival of that frigid winter we were all promised. I bundled the kids in hats, winter coats, boots and mittens (which is to say I wrestled with the baby for a full ten minutes trying to get them on his hands for more than a nanosecond. Nate laughed and pointed, in case you were wondering whose child he is.) In an unrelated thought, if you have any tips on how to fuse mittens to a screaming toddler’s hands without the use of staples, I’m all ears. So, out the door we went, with everything we needed to brace ourselves against the cold.

Everything except their snow pants.

It was the first thing my mom noticed. “Where are the boys’ snow pants?” she asked with alarm. Crappity craptastic, I thought.

“Um, I think Ben’s pants are in the closet and Nate’s…ah, I’m not 100% sure. Maybe…he doesn’t have any?” I was starting to sound like a teenager who was about to get into some serious trouble.

Needless to say, after dropping the kids off at school we both went back to our respective homes and went digging for snow pants. I tore my place apart, cursing myself the entire time. Why can’t I get anything right? Why can’t I remember anything? What kind of a parent am I? Snow pants were found and my father very graciously drove them to the school. Crisis averted – until next time.

For some reason, I couldn’t let it go. What the actual hell was my problem?

There are measured degrees of success. On the one hand are the moms who have it all together, like elusive rainbow unicorns with nice handbags. The other end of the spectrum…well, it makes me too sad to talk about really. Let’s say that just because some people give birth to humans doesn’t mean they’re innately programmed to raise them.

I’ve come to realize that I’m square in the middle of the scale. I don’t have staff. No one to clean or cook for me or help me get the kids ready in the morning or to remind me about the damn snow pants. I don’t begrudge people who do (believe me) but it makes me 100% responsible, all the time – good, bad, ugly or otherwise. There will be mistakes. The challenge then lies in not repeating them.

The other challenge is being kind to myself and moving on. Am I tired? Yes. Are our belongings distributed among several content cleaning companies across the GTA? Yes. Do I have forty loads of laundry and dishes to do? Check. Between putting my house and my life back together, things have slipped, not the least of which is my Swiss-cheese brain. I have to remind myself every.single.day. to forgive myself, let it go and move on. Tomorrow will be a better day.

“You know honey,” my mom reminded me. “The kids are fed, dressed and loved. You’re not doing too badly.” That’s high praise. I’ll take it.

Smotherhood

Posted on September 28, 2016 by urbansuburbanmommy Posted in The Struggle is Real .

My husband keeps saying things like “Give them a longer leash” and “Stop hovering” – and it’s finally starting to sink in. My boys aren’t babies any more, they need a little more independence and opportunity to spread their wings.

But I *can’t* let them. Because I’m ‘that’ mom.

photo: Vicchi

I have spent 8 years behaving like there’s a pedophile hiding behind every tree just waiting for me to take my eyes off of one of my boys for 3 consecutive seconds. I’m so sure I’ve got the cutest boys in the world that there are people waiting to snatch one should I drop my guard for literally seconds. I’ve been neurotically hovering and monitoring and keeping tabs for 8 years now, and I’m finding it a bit hard to break the habit.

photo: Gwidion M. Williams

You’re either thinking:

A) Of course you can’t take your eyes off of your kids, what is your husband thinking?

B) Are you insane? Let them be kids.

For 8 years I’ve said to my husband “I just can’t take chances if I can’t handle the consequences.” I don’t recognize myself when I say bizarre ‘grown-up’ phrases like that because I was the cool one, the care-free one, the one that flew by the seat of my pants, hitch-hiked across Europe, went traveling solo – independent as the day is long from a very early age, and I turned out just fine.

But I’m not that person any more. When it comes to my children, I become utterly and freakishly helicopter-ish.

At 6 and 8, both of them are physically a few years bigger than most of their friends. We grow them big. ’99th percentile’ big. They’re loud. Very, very loud. Nobody in their right mind would be silly enough to grab big, loud boys and think they could make a stealthy get-away – but still I can’t calm down.

I don’t want to be this crazy, but I am. Parenthood has done this to me.

I swear, I don’t know if I’ll ever be normal again.

photo: Ruth Hartnup

But I’m trying. This summer I let them play in the park, more than 10 feet away from me. I let them go swimming without going into the pool myself. I trusted the lifeguards, I trusted my ability to watch and react, instead of bracing for the imminent worst case scenario.

(Did I mention my husband refers to me as Worst Case Scenario Girl? Yes, my super-power is hysterical and excessive worrying about things least likely to come to pass.)

He fought me on the leash – dare I say “put his foot down” about it. The little one has always been a runner, a wanderer, a hard one to keep by my side. When I can’t see him I will often joke that he’s probably already gotten into his Über, and is half way across town. (But in my head it’s not a joke). I wanted to put a leash on him to save my own sanity, but my husband was having NONE of it.

None.

I have made it this far! Anyone else having trouble giving up the hovering?

10 parenting pet peeves

Posted on August 25, 2016 by Urban Suburban Mommy Posted in The Struggle is Real .

We are surprised that we could only come up with 10! Yes we have a ton of parenting pet peeves and as time passes and as we gain more experience as moms – each of us with two boys – the list sadly grows. Don’t get us wrong – we both adore being a parent, but there are just certain things that we just can’t stand. Continue reading →

10 questions with an adoptive parent

Posted on July 27, 2016 by Urban Suburban Mommy Posted in 10 Questions With .

For couples wanted to start a family or add to their existing family, adoption is definitely something to consider. Many celebrities such as Brad and Angelina Jolie have adopted children from different countries around the globe.

We had the pleasure of speaking with child therapist, author and adoptive parent Ce Eshelman about some of the benefits and challenges of adoption. Ce’s story is empowering and sheds light on the joys and blessings that parenting brings.

1. Why should couples consider adoption?

People adopt for many reasons, and adoption isn’t for everyone. It is, however, for singles and couples who feel they want to bring a child into their lives who needs everything they have to heal a hurt and hurting heart. Adopting a child gives parents a super-sized mission and purpose. It takes a lot to parent children. It takes more to heal deep emotional wounds while parenting children.

If you have passion, a secure emotional base, resources, and love like a mountain, sign up to adopt a child. Hurry, there are 400,000+ children waiting for you in foster care right now.

2. What is the biggest myth surrounding adoption?

I wouldn’t say there is one “biggest” myth. There are some pretty good ones afloat. Maybe one myth that can be a personal hurdle for people considering adoption is the notion that you have to be perfect to adopt a child. Not so. You can learn how to be a healing force in the life of a child who has lost biological parents and maybe even been harmed by those who promised to love them. Perfection is definitely not required. It does take more than love to heal, but ordinary people with ordinary lives are the best hope for the job.

3. How can couples benefit from adoption?

Let me answer that with another question: How can bringing a child into your life not be a benefit? Children bring energy, delight, purpose, hard work, joy, play, passion, and more meaning to a couple. If you are looking for that, adoption is a bonus investment.

4. What barriers might couples face while considering adoption?

Family members may not quite understand your passion for adoption. Why? Why? Why?, you will be asked. Get your narrative well established because you are going to tell that story over and over to well-meaning family and friends. It’s okay though; your coherent narrative will serve and sustain you during the tough parenting times.

5. What is the best age to adopt children or is there a better age?

Every age is the best age for an adopted child to come home to a loving family. There are adoptable children of every age waiting for you. The best age is the age you think you would really enjoy. Even older teens want to be a part of a family. The best age is up to your personal circumstances and desires. Adoption agencies are tremendous supports in determining what age is best for you. Don’t be afraid to be honest. If you cannot imagine parenting two children, the most darling of sibling pairs is not for you. If you have a large house and plenty of resources, go ahead and reach out for a set of 3 or 4 siblings that need to stick together. If baby’s rock your world, hold on; there are babies needing adoption, too.

6. If a couple adopts a child as a baby, should they tell the child that he/or she is adopted? Is there a good age to have the conversation with your child?

In my opinion children fare better when they know from the beginning that they are a gift of adoption. A coherent narrative about how you came to be where you are, how you are, and how you feel is essential for positive mental health later in life. If parents celebrate adoption day, as well as a birthday, children will delight in two whole days every year devoted just for shining on them.

As for best age to have the conversation, I think it begins with reading adoption books to your child when very young. It will be part of their awareness from the beginning of consciousness that some children come by stork, some by marriage, some by relatives, and some by adoption. Children will eventually ask you the age old question, Where do babies come from? Most wonder this around 3 or 4 years old. That is the perfect time to tell them their adoption story. Tell it beautiful, because it is.

7. How do you make an adoptive child comfortable with their new family?

You must be as safe as possible. Use therapeutic principles to parent—high structure, high nurture approaches. Frankly, parents need to put away traditional means of discipline and employ kinder, gentler styles because building a safe relationship with an adopted child is the first order of business–not disciplining poor behavior. Children need to be physically and emotionally safe before they can heal from their traumatic life experiences. Get support for learning a new way. You will be glad you started out on the right foot.

8. How do you deal with an adopted child who wants to seek out his/her birth parents?

First consider the circumstances that brought your child to you. If they were relatively abuse free and your attachment is strong, then supporting investigation can make sense in the teen years. Not all adoptive parents want to be found, so be sure to investigate first before involving your child. If the circumstances were abusive, I am in favor of waiting until the children are adults. Full disclosure: there are many divergent opinions about this. The level of attachment the child has to you needs to be considered before making promises that may not be followed through on. If your attachment is weak with your adoptive child, seeking out the birth parents is not wise, as it will likely cause even further distance in your attachment relationship.

9. Why is there still a stigma around adoption?

In general, many believe that you are gambling by bringing an unknown adoptive child into your life. Who knows what you will get? Frankly, bringing biological children into our lives is gambling, too. We never know what the child we bring into our lives is going to present. We just love and care for them the best we can. That is the nature of being a parent, adoptive or otherwise.

10. Why do you love being an adoptive parent?

I love my children. The fact that they are adopted has nothing to do with that. The journey to heal their broken hearts was a challenge for all of us. And, it turns out, we were all up for it. Now our dinner hours are full of stories, laughter, chatter, and true affection for one another. Nothing is better to my ears than that wild and zany family sound.

Ce Eshelman

Children’s therapist Ce Eshelman has decades of experience working with parents and their kids, including those who’ve experienced the added trauma of the foster care and adoption system. Founder and CEO of The Attach Place Center for Strengthening Relationships in Sacramento, CA, Ce has been in practice since 1987. She works every day with adopted children and their parents. Raising her two adopted children into adulthood has given her the insight, humor, and hard-earned wisdom to write with authority and love.

Her book for foster and adoptive parents, Drowning With My Hair on Fire, is a must-use resource tool for navigating the choppy waters of being an adoptive parent. Ce’s book is available via Amazon.

Battle of the baby boards

Posted on July 7, 2016 by Urban Suburban Mommy Posted in The Struggle is Real .

I don’t know how parents did it before the Internet, but baby boards and parenting groups online seem to be the way we all share information.

So why all the fighting????

I love cruising parenting boards. I think it’s my favourite distraction. I love offering info, tips, and sometimes learning something new. The personal experiences are so interesting.

By nature I’m just a research junkie, so parenting boards scratch that itch for me. Of course, I’ve read Dr. Sears and Dr. Newman and Dr. Seuss, so I’ve got my foundation of highly regarded advice, but I’ve also read far too much about the far too unusual so I’m a bit of a Cliff Claven when it comes to parenting advice.

But the thing I don’t get is all of the fighting.

The Fighting!

Why all the bashing and trolling and arguing?

I think part of the problem is that there is no font for sarcasm. If there were a sarcasm font I believe half of the world’s problems would be solved and parenting boards would be a much safer place.

I think people start to become friends, and then want to back their friends up. If only we realized that being right has nothing to do with liking someone.

I think people are misinformed and just generalize information, or worse yet, assume what the answer should be, instead of being able to admit when they just don’t know. Like not being informed is a sign of bad parenting.

I think people are too ego-driven to be right.

Why even ask the question on a parenting board? You’re sitting at a computer. You’re typing a question. If you type the question into Bing, Google, Yahoo or any other search you’ll get some pretty verified answers.

Why crowdsource?

Crowdsourcing information is the best way to connect. It’s not about nailing the most perfect answer, it’s finding something to chat about with other mommies. A way to start a conversation. It’s a way to commiserate about a subject or dig and dig until you find an answer among the pile that suits you.

Motherhood can be very isolating.

You spend 24/7 with the babes. Of course, if you work out of the home then you spend 8/5 at work and the rest with the babes. With little time to chat with friends – and that time is spent chatting about your babies anyways when it does happen – baby boards allow you to connect with like-minded people and have a communal experience without having to be in the same room, the same city or even the same country.

I get the difference of opinions – vaccines, circumcision, natural childbirth – but I’m not referring to these big bad battles. These are the biggies, and they’ll wage on through the generations. I’m talking about posts like: Is it safe to give my child cow’s milk at 12 months? Can I eat sushi while pregnant? Should I pump and dump if I have a glass of wine?

photo: MiguelPhotoBooth

There is a lot of misinformation, and a lot of changing information. Then there’s the fact that everyone has a different risk threshold. There are, though, women who give advice that is in no way correct. Just utterly unfounded. And this scares me.

First, if you’re crowdsourcing your question and you decide to rely on someone because you like their profile pic, or they once liked one of your posts, then you’re in deep trouble. And if it were only about the mama, well then go ahead. But if the info is going to harm a wee once, that’s crazy.

And you see these wars rage on and on. I steer clear. I don’t want to be part of mama wars. I don’t really get it. If you need someone to fight with, should it really be someone you don’t know behind a computer monitor who is in a group you sometimes snoop? Is there really a need?

Then there are the people crowdsourcing names. That always goes sideways. It should really be a rule that your child is the first person to hear the name you’ve picked out. Because inevitable, if you crowdsource enough people, you’ll get some nasty remark, and then you won’t be happy.

But the most incredulous crowdsourcing I’ve seen to date are the brag-sourcing mamas. “My little babe is 9 months and can’t tie her shoes yet. She can sing opera in three languages, bake perfect quiche and recite all of the state capitals, but her motor skills aren’t quite what they should be. Should I be worried or wait until she’s 10 months to see if it works out?”

Sheesh. I can see why those posts go off the rails.

While baby boards are really cool and great ways to connect, sometimes it just makes me wonder – parenting is time consuming. If you’re busy waging a mama war on a baby board, who’s watching your kids!!!!