Enjoying the Moments

One day I will not wake up to the crying of children.  I will wake up, and it will be after 6am, and nobody will have disturbed me all night long.  I will drink an entire cup of coffee while it is still hot.

One day no one will reach out arms for rescue from the crib-prison and spin circles around the room in a celebration of freedom.  No one will wake up overflowing with dreams and ambitions (what she has decided for her next birthday cake and when she can change her name to Elsa).  I will no longer cling to my coffee as the sweet nectar which sustains all life.

One day I will lie down on the couch and read a book.  Just uninterrupted reading, for more than thirty seconds.  No one will try to sit on my Kindle or suddenly discover a DIRE band-aid situation (can't you see the teeny, tiny cut I got last week??)  that needs immediate attention.  There will be no screaming.

One day no one will bring in a pile of slightly-chewed books saying, “Read! Read!.”  No one will climb on my belly and demand 20 games of "ride the horsey" which end with everyone in helpless giggles.  The chubby laughing face will have become too busy for silly games.

One day I will eat an entire meal in peace.  I will sit down, eat leisurely, and not get up until I'm done. There will be no screaming.  No one will steal the best parts of my food.  My husband and I will hold entire conversations not broken by a single "mama-mama-mama-MAMAAAAAA!"

One day no one will climb into my lap with a mischievous grin while slyly reaching for my bread.  No one will give an animated account of what happened at kindergarten.  No one will say incredibly funny things and then get mad at us for laughing.

One day no one will wipe boogers on my shirt or pee on the couch or talk about poop at the dinner table.  No one will shriek with frustration because the Stupid Puzzle Piece Won’t Go IN!!!

One day no one will dance wildly to "Pop Goes the Weasel," no one will beam with pride over a wobbling tower creation or laugh with joy when it falls down two seconds later.  No one will nuzzle a soft cheek against my chin.

One day we will get out the door without hunting for socks and shoes and waterbottles and toys.  There will be no sunscreening squirmy faces or last minute trips to the potty or how-is-your-face-still-covered-in-breakfast-oatmeal-at-4pm.  There will be no juggling of bags and strollers and babies up and down flights of stairs.

One day we will decide to go somewhere and we will just...walk out the door. We will go out to dinner and then say, "Hey, let's see a movie.  Why don't we walk around the lake?"  And then we will just do it.

One day we will go to concerts and coffee shops and whatever places adults go to.  We won't plan our vacation around the hotel with the good playground and the amount of insanity required to get there.  We will get on an airplane and just watch a movie or read a book.  Maybe we'll even fall asleep.

One day we will stop to point out the playground or the cows or the really big dump truck and no one will care.  One day no one will beg for hide and seek, or plant twig trees in the ground, or ask where the worm lives.  We will get on an airplane and nobody will be wildly excited about the little buttons and the window shades and the teeny tiny bag of pretzels.

One day we will not hurry back from dinners or forgo evening plans because little ones are melting down.  No one will take 30 minutes to put on a pair of pajamas or demand the door cracked at a perfect 13% angle and the right light on and the covers straightened out again and the waterbottle placed just so...   And there will be no screaming.

 One day no one will make a last minute pajama escape, running giggling through the living room exulting in nakedness.  One day no one will cuddle in laps for another reading of Goodnight Moon. There will be no "Jesus Loves Me" and prayers and sweet kisses through crib bars.

So I won't enjoy the 2am wake ups or the 3am throw ups or the 4am attempts at morning.  I probably won't enjoy most of the happenings between 1-5am, because seriously, I'm not crazy.

But I will enjoy the thousand other tiny, sticky, loving, learning, out-of-control-silly moments that fill the day.  Because one day is sooner than I can ever imagine.

[Linking up with Velvet Ashes: Enjoy]

18 Things to Know About Adalyn at 18 Months

I would be sad about Adalyn outgrowing babyhood, but this phase is so cute I really wouldn't want to go back.  At 18 months Addie...

1. Is just as sweet as always.  She loves to burrow her face against mine and runs to greet mama and daddy with a big hug.

2. Has developed quite a temper! Especially when overtired, she will throw herself on the ground and scoot backwards across the floor wailing. One day in a fit of rage, she picked up her little toddler chair and threw it on the ground! I know this will get old, but at the moment it's hard not to laugh.

3. Is just below "average" for both height and weight. She's pretty small but has a big old belly that she loves to pear at under her shirt.  She will pat it and say, "Belly belly belly!" Actually she likes to do the same thing to my belly too. It's hard to feel too self-conscious about not having a flat tummy when she takes such delight in it!

4. Sleeps from about 7:30/8pm-6am and naps for about 1.5 hours.  At least at the moment.

5. Has a pretty impressive vocabulary.  She seems to hear a word and then immediately start using it in proper context. She doesn't talk as constantly (or with as much volume) as Juliana did, but I think she knows more words.  I guess that's the advantage of an older sister who talks all the time! She also uses a lot of phrases like "I want book" and "xi shou" (wash hands). She definitely knows more English, but she's picking up Chinese pretty well. Her tones are great.

6. Is a total troublemaker. She can frequently be found emptying out the pantry, climbing on tables, checking out the trash, emptying drawers or trying to snag a cookie.  She complements her actions with a very mischevious smile.

7. Plays more and more with her sister. They hide under the table, push each other around on the train, and build towers together. Not without conflict, but it's fun to see them enjoying each other's company.

8. Loves to read, although sometimes after two pages she closes the book with a decided "all-done!" Her favorites are books with flaps.

9. Favorite song is "If You're Happy and You Know It." It's my favorite too, when she lifts up her hands and yells, "Hooray!"

10. Participates in at least the beginning of our home school. She sings songs and repeats the day of the week, the month, and the Chinese phrases we learn.

11. Is happiest with mama around, but gets really excited when daddy comes home. She also does well with ayi after the moment of actual leaving.

12. Is always ready to go outside. Every morning when Juliana gets ready for school, Adalyn tries to put on her shoes and hat too, in hopes that this time she'll get to go too.

13. Eats almost anything. Except the last few times she has refused to eat pizza! She is especially fond of other peoples' food and generally ends up sharing second breakfast with whoever eats last.

14. Gets LOTS of comments about her big eyes, both from Chinese and foreigners. Mostly people have stopped assuming she is a boy.

15. Enjoys helping mama and daddy sweep, wash dishes, pull down clothes from the line, and clean up spills (sometimes intentionally created for this purpose).

16. Adores her "sissy" (who she also calls "Julna") and tries to do everything she does.

17. Nurses before naptime and bedtime and sometimes in the morning. This is useful
since she still has very little interest in cow milk. 

18. Adalyn is in love with waterbottles. Despite her extensive vocabulary, about 1/3 of her conversations are about waterbottles. She is naturally quite attached to her waterbottle, and if anyone should become seperated from their waterbottles, she is rather concerned. Of course, she also uses "waterbottle" to refer to any kind of water.  The ocean, the potty, the lake: "Waterbottle!"

The Case of the Vaseline-Coated Stuffed Animals

By Kevin

It all started with an unusually long nap. Generally, Juliana rests for at least an hour each afternoon in her bed, but these days she only sleeps once or twice a week. Rarely for more than an hour. But today, when she woke up after 45 minutes, I decided to go in and lie down next to her to see if she wanted to sleep a bit longer. Juliana grabbed my hand and drifted back into a deep slumber. So did I. An hour and a half later, I looked at the clock and saw that it was 4:30. This wouldn't bode well for her bedtime routine. So I pulled the blankets off of her and prodded her out of bed.

After shaking out the cobwebs, she was wired, exuberantly running around, screaming, dancing, singing and playing at an abnormally high-intensity level.

After dinner and a bath, Yaya read her some books and we all told her goodnight around 8:30 and Ruth and I started to play a game of 7 Wonders with her Mom and sisters.

We heard Juliana paging through books a couple times and reminded her that she needed to sleep. After the game was over, she was still rustling around in her bedroom, so I went in to tuck Juliana in a second time. Immediately, my nose began nagging me with a question, "What is the strange, slightly sweet smell emanating from her bed?" Then it hit me. Vaseline.

I hesitated for a moment. "Were you playing with the Vaseline?" I asked. She nodded and looked away, guiltily. "Where is it?"

She rolled over and pointed to the alley of about a dozen stuffed animals, tissues, and various other knick-knacks she's hoarded alongside her bed. "Over there." Grabbing for the mostly empty jar, my hand grazed one of the stuffed animals she's packed around her bed. The elephant was completely coated in goo. It was dripping off of the eyes and soaked into the fur. As was her puppy. And a kitty. And Eeyore. Gross goo was everywhere. I dragged her to the bathroom to wash off her hands and saw a glob in her newly washed hair with dish soap. I asked where else she'd rubbed it. "On my face," she admitted, as I rinsed her off.

"Anywhere else?" I asked.

"Not on my feet. Not on my belly," she said smiling tiredly.

"Did you eat it?"

"No."

"Did you rub it in your eyes?"

"No."

I finished cleaning her up and brought her back to bed, telling her that she was going to have to sleep without a few friends and that if she ever rubs Vaseline on any other toys again she wouldn't get to play with them anymore. She nodded her understanding and I gave her another good-night hug.

Thankfully she's not the first to have turned her stuffed animals into slippery goo-monsters. A Google search for "Cleaning Vaseline from stuffed animals" leads immediately to other similar stories. Seriously, what would we do without the Internet? Grease-removing Dawn, baking soda and hot water seem to have gotten the goo out of the stuffed animals. By the time the goop was out of the animals, she was sound asleep.

Apparently cornstartch or baking soda and grease-removing dish soap and hot water is the way to go with hair. Lemon juice and Dr. Bonner's also seem to be strong contender. I'll have to try that in the morning, because I have a hunch the dish soap didn't get the job done.

I should have taken a picture.

April: A Little Family Update

You may have noticed I haven't been doing a lot of blogging recently.  I haven't been doing a lot of things recently, and if it's a choice between blogging or say, showering, people around me would probably prefer I shower.  It's not really that I don't have time - since my last post I have polished off two seasons of Downton Abbey (if you can really call 7 episodes a season), a little Gilmore Girls, and several books, but typing requires mental effort as well as a tiny bit of physical exertion.  Tiring, so tiring.

However, I thought I would take advantage of this little holiday we are having right now (Qing Ming Jie or "Tomb Sweeping Day") to give a general update on our lives.

Kevin: Recently celebrated his 35th birthday with a yummy Mexican potluck and a team game of Pandemic (sorry to say the world was lost to disease one turn before we could save it).  Since then, he has been busy taking care of Juliana.  He has been getting up with her in the morning, playing with her during the day, and putting her to bed at night. He often makes eggs for me in the morning and does most of the chores involving food (grocery shopping, dishes), gross smells (trash, diapers), and an unreasonable amount of physical exertion (hanging up laundry, biking to get milk).  In his free time he does fun things like taxes.  The Royal Shakespeare Company just asked to use one of his pictures in a program, so that's pretty cool.  He'll even get paid!

Oh yes, he's also studying Chinese.  His class has recently expanded in both size and Koreans.  His textbook this year is a series of pictures and vocabulary lists to help describe the pictures.  Yesterday his teacher told him that if a woman is talking to her friend or relative, she might call her own husband "jiefu" - the term for your older sister's husband.  Chinese makes lots of sense.

Kevin's picture...does it look Shakespeare-esque?

Ruth: The good news is I have dropped from daily to weekly throwing up.  I really am doing better than a few weeks ago.  I've even been doing some things like cooking occasionally.  While I'm still eternally grateful to live in a city where we can get cheese and fresh milk, I have also expanded my food repetoir to include lots of Mexican food and three fruits.  Unfortunately I still have a fair share of bad days.  Usually I will have a good day or two, do too much, and then feel sick for a couple of days.  I keep reading about how I should be feeling better now and have that "pregnancy glow;" strangely nobody mentions the pregnancy cynicism (maybe that's my own contribution).  According to Mayo, my blood volume is increasing 30-50%, my pulse is increasing, my blood pressure is dropping, I'm breathing 30-40% more air, and approximately all of my joints and muscles are moving around.  Now that I believe.

Oh yes, I'm also studying Chinese.  We spent quite a bit of time reviewing measure words recently.  We have a few measure words, like a pair of pants, a flock of geese, or a can of Coke.  Approximately every Chinese noun has a distinct measure word (or two or three).  Chinese measure words are so numerous they could almost form their own language.  We also spent some time in general review last week which was very helpful since I had no recollection of some of the things I had technically learned.

16 Weeks Pregnant

Juliana:  My lack of energy is more than made up for in Juliana.  She has been in very high (not to mention loud) spirits lately.  She talks a LOT, says lots of funny things, and rather frequently breaks out into song.  Her favorite type of play is "make them talk": dolls, cars, pieces of train track, silverware - anything can talk.  She's gotten pretty used to immobile mama and now goes straight to daddy for, "Do you want to play with me?  Do you want to play with me??!"  When she misses mama she climbs on top of me and jumps around.  Her vegetable intake has suffered with my food intolerances, but I'd say she's not too close to scurvy.  She doesn't seem to mind all the extra quesadillas she's been eating.

A few weeks ago Juliana's foot got caught in Kevin's bike wheel resulting in two weeks of bandaged foot.  Kevin had to take her back to the hospital every couple of days to get the bandage changed, a process Juliana did not exactly love.  She also couldn't wear her shoe, which meant two weeks of no outside play.  Fortunately the foot is all healed up now except for a bit of remaining scab and scar.  Juliana is more concerned about the "hurt fingers" she gets three times a day since she got new Mickey Mouse band-aids.

Juliana does an Easter dance to "Up From the Grave He Arose"

Ruvin the Second:  Now around 4.5 inches long (the size of an avacado or grenade, whichever image you prefer), baby has doubled in size in the last couple of weeks.  In the next couple of weeks he'll also double in weight.  She can now hear and is sensitive to light.  Probably also sensitive to older sisterly pokes and jabs.  He is making facial expressions and moving around; I may have felt him, but I'm never paying enough attention to be sure.  While Ruvin is having an ever-present impact on my life and body, I guess all that growing is keeping her pretty quiet.

I suppose these days baby looks something like this

So that's what's been happening in our lives.  I'll just leave you with an anecdote from the morning.  Juliana worriedly examined a loose hair in her hand, "My hair!  That's my hair!  Can you put it back in?"  I tried to explain to her that hair falls out and grows back in all the time and you can't put it back, but she solved her own problem.  She placed the hair back on top of her head and said, "I put it back!"  I didn't argue.

Sleeping on a Train

My previous experience with trains (and btw, what all trains should look like)

By Juliana (okay, with a little help)

This weekend we went to someplace new for mama's friend's wedding.  The wedding was okay.  There were a few nice things about it like
1) They gave us candy
2) I got to play around with some other kids
3) We got to eat lots of good food.

Mama will probably tell you more about all that but I want to tell you about the Really Important Part: I SLEPT ON A TRAIN!!  I don't know if you know this about me, but kind of like every other toddler on the planet, I love trains.  Real, imagined, Thomas - they are all interesting.  Mama and Daddy were talking about riding on a train and it finally happened.

One night I took a bath, got in my jammies, and then instead of going to bed I put on my outside clothes and boot-shoes and got on a train!!!  Wouldn't it be great if every night were like that?  "It's bedtime...just kidding!  It's train time!!"  Anyway, first we got to ride in a taxi, which is pretty fun in itself. 

I was a little confused when we got to the train station because I couldn't see any trains.  Where were all the trains?  Inside was very big with lots of people, and I walked around and looked and looked for the trains, but some big rails were blocking us from the windows.  Why would they do that?  We walked and waited and I was starting to get pretty sleepy just sitting there (don't judge; I was bored and it was past bedtime), when finally they let us go through the big rails.  And there were some trains!

I'm really sorry to tell you this.  I'd like you to keep your childish innocence, but I feel an obligation to tell you the truth: these trains didn't look like Thomas at all.  Once I got over that disappointment, it was still pretty interesting because they were so big and long and there were people sitting on the train and sleeping on the train!  We climbed on and went into a little room with some small beds and a big window.  I looked out the window and said, "It's a train!  We're riding a train!" for a while because mama and daddy didn't seem to get it.  At least, they weren't nearly excited enough.  I just want them to experience life fully, you know?

Settled down for the night...I fit just right until Mama tried to squish in too

After a while it was just dark and boring outside so I settled down in the bed.  It was just about right...until mama said SHE was supposed to sleep here too!  What?  That's taking the sharing thing a little bit too far, don't you think.  This bed wasn't much wider than my crib, and she doesn't try to come and take that from me!  She put on my little green blanket (a nice touch) and I gave her 40% of the bunk.  Then we settled down to sleep.
I was pretty excited about sleeping on the train.  There was just one problem: when you are sleeping, you miss out on every other thing that is going on in life!!  I'm not the kind of person that wants to go through life missing out on all the great experiences.   So I laid down and thought about riding on a train.  And talked and sang about it too.  I had to pop up and look out the window to make sure I hadn't missed anything exciting in the past couple of minutes.

Sleeping so close to mama wasn't bad either.  I got to play with her hair and her face and her eyes and breathe in all her air and hug her shoulder and her neck and her face.  She closed her eyes and pretended to sleep but I know she wasn't because everytime I poked her face she said, "Go to SLEEP, Juliana."  She didn't sound like she was having as much fun as me (talk about someone who misses out all all of life's great experiences...).  She did giggle a little when I kissed her face for the tenth time, though.

Other than someone trying to steal all my joy, it was pretty fun.  Unfortunately, it was getting pretty late and I just...couldn't...keep my eyes...open.

No matter, approximately 2.5 hours later I woke up completely refreshed and ready to experience life again.  Mama was even less responsive this go around but I successfully evaded sleep for the remainder of the trip.  Mama actually looked a little relieved when we had to get off the train, even though it was only 4:30am.  And I was so cute that the other people in our little room didn't even complain about how much noise I was making.

Looking out the train window

After all that wedding stuff with lots of people wanting to touch me and take my picture, we got back on the train again!  This time it was still light outside and we didn't have to sleep for a long time.  I looked out the window and played with my toys and ate some hot dog and walked around.  The other people in our little room fell sound asleep while I was still singing and playing.  Mama and daddy could really learn something from them.

This time I slept on daddy's bed since he said he wasn't going to sleep anyway.  It's pretty hard to fall asleep on a train.  I finally fell asleep and what do you know - all of a sudden they were waking me up again saying we had to get off the train.  I was very confused and started crying.  They never wake me up!  We had to put on all our outside clothes and get off the train.  It was still dark and mama said it was the middle of the night.  We got in a taxi and went home.  I was happy and excited to be at home and I said, "It's playtime!!"  Mama said it was 2am and that meant it was bedtime.  I got all settled in my own bed.  It was more comfortable than the train bed and nobody was trying to share it with me.  It's not quite as fun as sleeping on a train, but then when you are on a train, who wants to sleep anyway?

Jesus was a two-year-old

By Kevin

This year at Christmas, I'm amazed by the fact that Jesus was once a two-year old. I see him running into a room and yelling, "I'm hiding," then screaming with delight when someone finds him. I find myself picturing Juliana playing with him like she plays with her little friends, running around in circles till he's dizzy, laughing his face off, then tripping over his feet and falling to the ground, crying for Mary to pick him up and hold him. I picture him spread-eagle, sleeping wedged between Mary and Joseph, while they struggle to find an inch of space to sleep.

I see him climbing into Joseph's lap, asking him to tell the story of the Exodus for the hundredth time (what did they do before picture books?). I picture Joseph laughing with Mary about the peculiar phrases he comes up with. "Daddy, I'm Exiting," he says in Aramaic as he tries to play the part of Moses in the Parting of the Red Sea, using a pile of rocks and a bowl of water as his toys. "He's trying to say he's leading the Exodus," they laugh, wondering if he meant it or it was a grammar mistake, after all he has been adding "ing" and "ly" to an awful lot of words lately. Could the Son of God have made Juliana's grammar mistakes as a two-year-old?

All the while he sings Psalms at the top of his lungs while he plays, then pauses, mid song, when he realizes he desperately needs a snack. And they beam with pride as they look at him and wonder just what he will become, just like we wonder with Juliana. I can see him excitedly mimicking the sounds of every donkey, chicken and cat he sees, then laughing when Mom and Dad remind him where he was born. I wonder if he wandered around seemingly unsupervised like the two-year-old in the shop downstairs did last winter, while her parents worked. Or maybe, when Joseph was working with wood and Mary was doing some chore, his grandparents followed closely behind him, forgetting the shame and doubts they had once had about her untimely pregnancy, wondering if her insistence that it was a miraculous conception may have been true.

I wonder if, perhaps, he was like Juliana was this morning -- giddy with uncontainable excitement -- when the Magi came to bring him strange gifts (after all, we don't really know how old he was at that time -- Could have been a newborn. Could have been two -- after all, Herod killed all the kids 2 and under after learning from the Magi that the King of the Jews had been born ). I picture how some Chinese two-year-olds look at a rare foreign face like they've seen a ghost. Would Jesus have been startled if those Magi from the East were Chinese? Persian? Blonde? Or would he have smiled and welcomed them like other two-year-olds, who haven't yet learned to divide people by race. (as a side note - The possibility that they could have been Chinese, which a teammate mentioned reading about, fascinates me. It's for another time, but in Brent Landau's book (which just went on my reading list) Revelation of the Magi: The Lost Tale of the Wise Men's Journey to Bethlehem a Harvard scholar apparently proposed that a recently-translated 8th century Syriac texts suggests they came from China.)


 But more than anything, I'm just as blown away that God would confine himself to the limits of a two-year-old's little body as I am amazed by the fact that he was once a newborn. Maybe it's because I never thought of him as a two-year old before. My mind has followed the Biblical narrative and hop-skipped through his life from the the baby in the manger, to the young boy him lagging behind in Jerusalem making his parents frantic. Then boom, he's about my brother's age, healing the blind and telling people that "blessed are the poor in spirit for they shall inherit the kingdom of God." Then, at my age, he takes the sin of the world upon himself on the cross and days later comes back to life.

I desperately want to fill in those gaps. Not just out of idle curiosity. But because He matters. For the same reason I want to know the stories of what Ruth was like before I knew her. Because those stories shaped who she is. Trying to imagine him at Juliana's age each step of the way is helping me to see all the holes of my knowledge of Him. I pray that He can fill my imagination to give me a fuller picture of who He really is through the eyes of our two-year-old.

Tale of a Nursling

Note: I am not writing this to make anyone feel bad about whether they nursed or how long; I am writing because I want to share my story of what a great experience nursing can be.


Nursling Baby
Juliana nursed for the first time when she was about half an hour old.  It must have been very comforting, after being thrust into a loud, confusing world, to once again be surrounded by a familiar smell, a familiar taste, and a recognized voice.  Her tiny hands flickered over my skin, and she looked up at me with big, bright eyes.  I could hardly believe she was mine, but she obviously knew I was hers.

The first couple of weeks of breastfeeding were very difficult.  Juliana latched pretty well from the start, but she was jaundiced, so keeping her awake long enough to nurse was nearly impossible.  We took off her clothes and annoyed her in every way possible but she still slept on.  Getting enough milk was important to reduce the jaundice, so the hospital lactation consultant recommended I started pumping and giving her extra feeding from a syringe.  Each feeding I spent 30 minutes trying to wake her up enough to nurse her, then I spent 30 minutes painfully pumping while Kevin fed her tiny bits of colostrum from a syringe.  It was so hard to relax, and the high blood pressure I developed just after leaving the hospital didn‘t help.  She nursed every 2-3 hours during the day and we had to wake her up every 3 hours at night, so there wasn't much of a break before it was time to start over again.

Once the jaundice started to go away, Juliana became more alert and nursing was much smoother.  I was happy to leave the breast pump behind for the most part.  For the first month or two she mostly ate every 2-3 hours, for 30-45 minutes each time, and I felt like I was nursing all the time.  I read 20 books in the first three months, mostly in the middle of the night!  I also watched a lot of TV, both of which were helpful in allowing me to relax.  Once we both started getting the hang of breastfeeding, it became much easier.  I loved the way Juliana would close her eyes and start rooting around when she was hungry, and she would wail pitifully if she had been hungry for longer than 30 seconds.  I loved the way she predictably drifted off to sleep at the end of every nursing session, too warm and cozy to resist.

I first started nursing in public when Juliana was 5 weeks old and we had a 37 hour flight back to China.  I was a little nervous about it since I still wasn't entirely comfortable with nursing even with no audience, but it went fine.  By the end I felt much more comfortable nursing on airports and airplanes and with people looking over my shoulder.  Nursing isn't as popular in China right now, but people do seem to be a bit more open about it.  When we would have (female) students or teachers over and I was nursing Juliana, they would come sit by me and watch her nurse.

When Juliana was about 2 months old I developed mastitis.  A student took me to see the local doctor and then tried to translate his diagnosis: "He says you have too much milk."  Eventually we were able to translate the word "mastitis" which made things a little clearer, but then he prescribed some medicine I shouldn't take and told me to stop nursing, which I knew I shouldn't do.  After a call to the doctor-aunt of another student and a bit of self diagnosis, I bought some amoxicillin and it started to improve.  Everything I read said that rest was very important…they probably didn't mean "take a 14 hour train to Beijing and then trek across the city on bus and subway."  But Juliana had a 2 month check-up and immunizations, and at least I was able to see a better doctor in Beijing who confirmed that the mastitis was improving.

Once we got past the early days, nursing was pretty easy and I enjoyed it.  I loved the connection I felt with Juliana and the peace I felt knowing I was providing the nutrition and comfort she needed.  She continued to nurse during the night, but a particularly nasty stomach bug forced me to learn to nurse lying down, which was helpful.  She went through several stages of supreme distraction, and there were times when she drove me crazy by picking at my skin.  She learned to do some pretty complex acrobatic moves while nursing, a skill I didn't always enjoy.  But overall, things were going great.  She became a more efficient nurser and started to nurse for 15-20 minutes instead of 30-40, and she wasn't nursing as frequently so it was much easier to schedule going out or being away from her for short periods of time.  She was never on a strict schedule, but she naturally fell into a relatively predictable routine.
 
Nursling Toddler
Shortly after Juliana was born I distinctly remember telling a friend I planned to nurse her until she was about a year old and that was long enough.  I said, "Once she can start asking to nurse, that's a little weird."  Now I have to laugh at how much my thinking has changed.  When she reached the one year mark I thought, "One year is such an arbitrary time.  Just because it's when most people stop nursing doesn't seem like a good enough reason to stop."  So I didn't.  To my surprise, I found that nursing a past-one year old seemed completely normal.

One day Juliana started walking and suddenly I was nursing a toddler, something I would have never seen myself doing before Juliana was born.  But once again, it seemed pretty arbitrary to stop nursing just because she started to walk.  I read more about the benefits of "extended breastfeeding" both for Juliana and myself.  We were both still happy to be nursing, so why stop?  I knew it would seem strange to some people, but fortunately I discovered many friends who had nursed into toddlerhood.

As Juliana started to enjoy drinking cows milk and became less dependent on nursing, I gradually started nursing her less.  By 15-16 months I was just nursing her before bed and first thing in the morning.  It was nice to have more flexibility during the day, and I enjoyed a chance to cuddle with my increasingly active child.  At bedtime when she asked, "Nurse?  Nurse?" it seemed sweet rather than strange.  Sometimes she would stop in the middle of nursing and look up to give me a kiss.  I could tell these times were important to her for a lot more than just nutrition.  In the mornings I brought her into bed with us and enjoyed not having to get up right away at 6am.  Sometimes she would doze off and we'd both get a little more sleep.

Weaning a Nursling
I planned to stop nursing when Juliana was about 2 years old, but it took a little bit to actually get around to it.   I kept thinking, "I guess I should stop nursing," and then I would think, "But why?  We are both still happy with it."  I don't think there is anything naturally strange about nursing a toddler (in fact the worldwide average age for weaning is four!), though I realize it is a bit countercultural.   At some point I think we have to take cultural norms into account, but let's be honest - there is quite a bit about my life that falls outside of the cultural norms!

Around 26 months I decided to stop nursing at night, since Juliana was only nursing for a few minutes.  I usually prayed for her as she nursed, so instead I just held her and prayed with her.  For a few weeks she sometimes asked, "Nurse?"  I would say, "No, we'll just pray together," and she was fine with that.  A few weeks later she randomly, wonderfully started sleeping much later in the morning, so the morning feeding disappeared rather naturally.  Since her entire weaning experience was so gradual, it was never difficult for either of us. 

I admit that I am a little sad to think of this sweet part of our relationship coming to an end.  It is just one more milestone to show how quickly Juliana is growing.   But mostly it seems like the right time for us to let it go.  I am so grateful for the opportunity to nurse Juliana as a baby and a toddler.  I am grateful for all the support from friends and family and doctors who never doubted my decision.  It has been a beautiful experience.

Mole Hills

(Or part 2 in my little mini-series)

It's funny how parenting a toddler sometimes makes me feel like a toddler.  When Juliana is having a bad day - whining and clinging and generally falling apart, my thought process goes something like this: "I have ruined her.  It will just get worse and worse.  I will lose all control of her by the time she is 5.  I should have made her pick up her toys earlier.  I never should have given her that cracker when she was crying for it.  Now she's spoiled for life." (and I call Juliana melodramatic!)

When Juliana has a "good day" - playing well on her own, sweetly saying thank you, taking a good nap and actually eating dinner, I think, "She is such a great child.  I'm such a good parent.  Why do people parenting is so hard?  Maybe it's just that their children aren't as delightful as mine.  Remind me to tell them that if they just do exactly what I'm doing, their children will turn out great."

It's easy to get caught up in day-to-day moments of life and completely lose perspective.  I don't know about you, but I tend to make a big deal out of little things.  The other day a friend told me about taking her young barely-toddler boys to an event where they ran around enthusiastically.  Nearby another family's six children sat quietly watching the other people, looking exceptionally calm and well-behaved.  The whole way home she bemoaned what a terrible parent she must be that she hadn't taught her one year olds to sit still and quiet.

I tend to react similarly when I hear about people's children who sleep 12 hours straight at night or love to eat vegetables or play on their own for an hour at a time.  I think (and sometimes they say), "If I just parented the right way, surely my child would do that too!"  When we see a glimpse of those "perfect children," it's really hard not to freak out a little.

I remember when Juliana was 2 months old I started to become concerned that she wasn't sleeping well.  Now I laugh thinking, "My goodness, she was only 2 months old!!" but at the time those two months seemed like a really long time.  When Juliana was 8 months old and waking up an insane number of times a night, I was convinced she would never sleep well.  Seriously, I was just holding out hope for the teenage years when I hear people say their kids never want to wake up.  It sounded wonderful.  Now Juliana sleeps really well almost every night.  But when she has a bad night - usually because of a cold or similar disturbance - I instantly become afraid that this past year of sleeping through the night was just a ruse.

Similarly, I make a big deal out of my own parenting choices.  I think that breastfeeding is great and I really dislike leaving babies to cry-it-out, but I really don't think these are the end-all-be-all issues of parenting.  Some people get really, really passionate about these things.  Both sides draw lines and become bull-headed.  "If you don't breastfeed your child she will never get into college!"  "If you don't let your baby cry he will never learn to sleep!"  It’s important to think things through and make informed decisions, but these areas aren't quite as life-altering as people make them out to be.

Here is what bothers me: In America we argue about the ethics of “hiding” vegetables in our toddler’s food while millions of children go to bed hungry every night, some of whom never wake up.  We are so busy judging others discipline styles that we miss the signs of the child in our church or school who is being abused.  We are so embroiled in a “circumcision/no circumcision” debate that we don’t realize millions of girls worldwide are still undergoing female genital mutilation (“female circumcision”) a painfully unnecessary procedure that can cause severe bleeding, infertility, and childbirth complications.

The next time I am frustrated because Juliana refuses dinner once again, I want to pause and be filled with gratitude that I have food to offer her.  When I am tempted to get involved in a petty debate, I want to save my energy and passion for the things that really matter.  There are plenty of issues in the world that should make us angry, zealous, indignant, and grieved; most of them don't even enter our radar.

The fact that we have time to stress about the little things means that we aren’t facing the big things.  We are so blessed.

The Myth of the Perfect Child

"But the grass is greener over there!!"  My wonderfully imperfect child can reject a vegetable from a mile away, spot the sunrise from hours away, and has been known to collapse on the floor because she couldn't have another cracker.

I have many friends who are parents and most of them I would consider to be good parents.  Some of them are incredible parents whom I admire and want to emulate.  But most of them frequently feel like they aren’t doing a very good job.  Some days it seems like things are going well, other days they are plagued by doubt, and some days they are convinced they could win the World's Worst Parent award.  Why is it that so many good parents feel like they are failing?  I have been thinking lately about this question and want to share a few of my speculations.  Since my speculations are more numerous than my time, I think this will turn into a mini-series.  Besides, “mini-series” makes it sound like I really know what I’m talking about. :)

1. The Myth of the Perfect Child

I have a friend whose baby was sleeping through the night at 3 months old.  At 7pm she happily laid down in her bed and slept peacefully until 7am, then entertained herself quietly for another hour before alerting her mother with happy cooing.  At 6 months old this baby sat peacefully on her own, playing with toys for half an hour.  At 10 months this baby never threw food on the floor.  At 15 months she was speaking in full sentences, most of which started with the word "please."  At 18 months she self potty trained.  At 24 months she never threw tantrums and happily reached for another carrot stick, no dressing needed.  At 3 years old she was not only dressing herself, she was also doing her own laundry and picking out color-coordinated outfits.

Do you know someone like this?  Actually, me neither.  For one thing there's no way we would still be friends.  For another thing that child doesn't exist.  Our vision of the perfect child is just a compilation of all the enviable traits of a dozen children we've heard of and then dangerously expect our child to be.  But one thing we forget is that the child who was indeed a terrific sleeper had a tremendous difficulties with nursing.  That independent player is 18 months and barely talking at all.  The toddler who loves carrot sticks and brocolli won't potty train until 4.  The 3 year old did do her own laundry...flooding the washer and staining all her clothes in the process.

When I hear people brag about their child's enviable traits (or bemoan their less enviable ones), I have to think, "What is our idea of the perfect child?"  It seems to me that the perfect child is one who interferes with our life as little as possible.  He sleeps so much we hardly see him in between naps!  He plays so well on his own we don't even have to interact with him!  I often think of how much I could accomplish if Juliana didn't want to be with me all the time.  There are certainly advantages to encouraging age-appropriate independence, but is a "perfect child" really one who doesn't need her parents?

The perfect child is actually a miniature adult.  Sure, you get to dress her in cute clothes and she says funny things, but she thinks and acts like an adult.  My friends (and I) often express frustration about our children's irrational behavior.  If you were happy to eat it yesterday why won't you touch it today?  If you stick your finger in there again, of course it's going to get pinched - don't you remember the last time?  We expect our children to think the same way as fully rational adults do (forgetting how many times we also do dumb things over and over again when we should know better).

The perfect child also seems to be rather lacking in the personality and emotion. He is compliant and passive, happily agreeing to whatever we suggest.  She has no opinion (or better yet, she has our opinion) about what to eat and what to wear.  She doesn't get upset when things don't go her way (perhaps because she's so  rational).  Instead she calmly accepts life and lets it wash over her.

Sometimes I'm not sure if we've actually gotten over the idea that "children should be seen and not heard."  A good child is still considered one who looks nice but doesn't mess up our lives to much.

When our children do act like children, when they have big needs or a large personality, we start to wonder what is wrong with them -- Or perhaps more so, what is wrong with us that we can't control them.  Everyone else's baby is sleeping through the night.  Nobody else's child is screaming in the middle of the supermarket.

As parents we have a responsibility to help our children to behave appropriately, handle their emotions, and do things they don’t want to.  Some of their actions do reflect on our parenting.  But no matter how good of parents we are, we will never have a perfect child.  It is unfair to expect it from them or from ourselves.  And honestly, if we did have the perfect child, everyone would probably hate us.  Is that really what we want?  Enjoy your friends (who secretly feel relieved that your child also throws tantrums).  Enjoy your imperfect child.

2 Years Old!

Dear Juliana,

Two years ago when I first held you I thought you were beautiful, but I didn't yet know what you'd become.  I suppose at two you are still in the process of becoming :), but already you have such a strong personality.  I love your enthusiasm toward life, the way you approach each day and each event of the day with eager expectation.  I love your giggles and smiles and silly faces.  Now that you are speaking, I love your 2 year old jokes you tell with a glimmer in your eye.   Even before you could speak, you always found a way to express yourself.

Daddy, looking at picture of a horse: It's a horse.  Juliana: Actually it's a cow.

Juliana, holding mama's cup: Baby's cup.  Not for mama. 

Many people who see you say you are such a happy baby, and do you ever cry?  Of course sometimes you cry, like when you really want a cracker or really don't want to sleep.  When you do, you cry with gusto.  You know exactly what you want and make sure everyone else knows too.

Perhaps in the future the years will all blend together, so I want to remember and want you to know what your life was like as you began your second year.

Daily schedule: Wake up about 6am, whether the sun is up or not.  Want breakfast right away, then play with your toys, play under mama's feet, or go outside for a walk in the morning.  You love to go outside where everyone knows 安安!  You take a 1-1.5 hour nap just after lunch, and in the afternoon 李阿姨 （Li Ayi） comes to play with you.  When the weather is good she takes you outside for a couple of hours.  We eat dinner around 6:30pm and then play together for a bit before bedtime.  Before bed you usually take a bath (every few days), put on jammies, read some stories, nurse, and then (your new habit) fall asleep with your hand on your waterbottle, hopefully to sleep until morning.

Sleeping: You have finally gotten down falling asleep on your own and sleeping through the night, except that everytime we travel you are disturbed by new places, wake up all night, and spend half the night in mama and daddy's bed kicking like crazy.

Eating: The picky stage continues.  You have expanded your diet soemwhat but are rather unpredictable.  Your favorite foods are cheese, yogurt, crackers, mac 'n cheese, hot dogs, and rice.  Your least favorite foods are all vegetables (except potatoes) and all fruits (except bananas), so mostly I try to sneak those in elsewhere.

Talking: This summer you really started using a lot of sentences, and now you are a pro at combining words and phrases to make your own meanings.  You also love to repeat back what we say, perferably adding "no" or "not" at the beginning (e.g. "NOT yummy veggies," "NO mama's toy.")  We laugh over the funny things you say.  You are starting to speak more Chinese as well, although mostly with ayi.  Just this morning I heard you say your first Chinese sentence, "安安回家了." (AnAn is back home.)

Juliana likes to hide behind the water machine.  She also things the big bag of rice (beneath her) makes a great seat.

 Playing: You love to play hide and seek, chase (with your doll stroller and riding train), and ring around the rosy.  You love to play with Little People (especially the baby), dig in the dirt, draw pictures (markers or messy paint prefered) and do almost anything as long as it's outside.  You have started to play for longer periods (sometimes 20-30 minutes) on your own, though usually with mama or daddy nearby.  Every week we have a play date with your other foreign friends in a home or at the park, and every day you see your little Chinese friends outside.  You have lots of fun.

Other favorites: You love to read and are developing a longer attention span.  You love your Pete the Cat books and can repeat parts of them.  You also love books with songs, like Jesus Loves Me, The Wheels on the Bus, and If You're Happy and You Know It.  You love to sing and approximate the words to a number of children's songs.  You still love to listen to music and dance along.  You are excited to talk to your grandparents and family on Skype.

This summer you loved playing with kitchen toys at Grandpa and Yaya's house, so for your birthday we made a play kitchen out of a large diaper box.  I hope you will enjoy it and play with it while mama is cooking.

Sometimes life with such an energetic toddler is tiring, but it is also lots of fun.  You make our lives very happy.  I am looking forward to watching you grow in this next year.

Love,

Mama

Inconvenient

A few weeks ago I saw this saying on Pinterest (rolls eyes at self):

It keeps coming back to mind because it is something that bothers me about a lot of current parenting philosophies. Philosophies based keeping babies and children from “getting in the way” of your life as much as possible. I could go a little rant about that, but I won't at the moment.

But I am most often reminded of this saying when I am feeling so inconvenienced by Juliana. Despite my lofty ideals, it's easy to see her as an inconvenience. When she is having a really clingy day and I have so many things to get done. When she collapses into a fit on the floor because I won't let her draw in books with markers. When she pulls out every single one of her toys and scatters them all over the house. When she is dead-set on walking the opposite direction of wherever we need to go. When I just want to check my email without her crawling up and trying to push all the buttons. When is quietly playing by herself but the moment I sit down to study she suddenly feels a pressing need to sit in my lap, on top of my book.

I want her to learn boundaries and that she can't do everything she wants. I don't want to give in to her tantrums. I want to listen to her and acknowledge her feelings. I want to teach her to be helpful without expecting her to be a little adult. I want to give her the attention that she needs while gently reminding her the world doesn't completely revolve around her.

But at many of these inconvenient times, I'm not thinking about those goals – I'm just thinking about how much I could accomplish if a small person wasn't singlehandedly working to destroy my efforts. I want her to be one of those kids people talk about who spend an hour playing in their room. I wish I had taught her to not need me so much. I wish I ruled with an iron fist. Because it would really make things easier, right this moment.

Then I step back and remember, I am raising a human being. Juliana is a small person, but she has big (very big) feelings that she hasn't yet figured out what to do with. Sometimes when I take away her precious marker, she truly feels that the world has turned against her. How can I respond to show that her feelings matter (even if she's still not getting the marker)? She watches everything I do and wants to be like me. That's why she wants to play with my computer and why she sits in the kitchen making a big mess while I'm cooking. Before I know it she'll be a teenager and want to be anything I'm not – and I'll really wish she still wanted to be with me all the time! Sometimes she seems so clingy, but she's still so very young. She's hardly gotten finished with being a baby. I wish she would go play on her own more, but I can't just expect her to turn into an introvert (something she is definitely not!).

It's easy to feel like I'm not accomplishing much in parenting since “play ring-around-the-rosy 10 times” or “pick up 35 crayons off the floor” doesn't usually make my to-do list, but in the end it will be more important than those things on the list. Right now, I have the opportunity to show Juliana that her feelings are legitimate, that her needs matter, that she is valuable.

It may not seem like much, but Juliana is learning patience and perseverance by dropping clothespins through a small hole, over and over again. She is learning responsibility and helpfulness by handing clothes to mama to put on the line or picking up three books to put on the shelf. When she's outside, she's observing the world and learning how to interact with others and how to speak Chinese. She's learning to love music and making a mess with 'art' and 'science.' She's learning that sometimes when you're really mad you still don't get your way, but sometimes when you're having a really bad day it's okay to bend the rules a bit.

And I am learning that it's okay to let go of some of my expectations, that “accomplishment” isn't what makes us important, successful, or fulfilled. I am learning that if the house stays too clean it probably means we aren't having much fun. I am learning patience by picking up the same crayons and blocks every day and by letting Juliana “help mama” even when it takes twice as long. I am learning that sometimes even when it would be so much easier, you can't let your child get what they are screaming for. I am learning that sometimes when you're having a really bad day it's okay to put on a cartoon so everyone can take a break.

If parenthood and China have taught me anything, it's that the best lessons are usually very inconvenient.  If I embrace the inconvenience rather than resisting it, I'll probably discover the "inconvenient" is what's important after all.