Want to see a simple tool that helps save my sanity day in and day out? Behold - the snack plate! While this tray I got for under a dollar at a thrift store seems pretty unimpressive, it has become a critical tool in how I hand snack time day in and day out. As a parent, I approach family eating and meals informed by Ellyn Satter's division of responsibility. In a nutshell, the parent decides the parameters of meals - what is offered at what time and what location. The child retains control of how much he or she eats and which of the offered foods he or she eats. This model of feeding complements a baby-led solids (often referred to as baby-led weaning or BLW) approach and continues the trust for your child that underlies baby-led solids into their toddler and preschooler years (as well as beyond). In the moment, the division of responsibility approach to eating takes away any possible power struggles around food. Long view the hope is that it encourages a healthy attitude toward food.
Want to try out a snack plate with a single kiddo or younger toddlers? Mini-muffin tins or ice-cube trays can make the perfect solo snack tray. If you do try out the snack tray, let me know what you think!
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As a parent of three fantastic but oft-waking kiddos, I know how baby sleep can become sticky wicket.
For whatever reason, it seems like everyone from family members to the grocery store checkout person to the old woman walking her dog in the park wants to know if your baby is a "good" baby and if he or she "sleeps through the night." And, if your baby sleeps like, well, a baby, he or she likely needs nighttime parental support for feeds, diapers, and snuggles. You may wonder this is normal (which it is), and you may wonder if you are doing something wrong (you aren't). When it comes to babies and sleep, it isn't a problem unless it's a problem. That's where Infant Sleep Education comes in - a heart-centered, holistic approach to family sleep that keeps in mind what is developmentally normal for babies while also understanding that balancing life and baby may require some outside support. If you find yourselves overwhelmed and exhausted, but also feel strongly about parenting your baby or toddler in a responsive manner to promote attachment, this is for you. Are you an expectant parent? Fantastic! You can get a handle on normal baby sleep as well as strategies for soothing baby and finding balance even before baby arrives by attending an Infant Sleep Education Workshop. This course helps you and your partner get on the same page as far as what baby will need and think through strategies to help you work together as a team, find balance, and rally support as needed. Are you the parent of a newborn and find yourself wishing you'd learned about sleep ahead of time? A private Sleep Education Workshop with time for Q & A can give you the resources you need to feel confident as you make this leap into parenthood. You may also want to consider day or overnight postpartum doula support to help you maximize rest and healing. Are you looking for education and support as the parent of a baby who wakes frequently at night? Nested Mama offers private sleep consultations that start with your values and goals to help you fit the sleep piece into the larger puzzle of your busy lives. Are you the parent of a toddler and ready to make a gentle transition away from night feeds or sharing sleep? Nested Mama offers private sleep consultations that can help you create the plan for a respectful transition. Because your goals and values are the most important in your parenting journey, we'll keep those at the forefront of your Sleep Strategy Package. Still not sure if Infant Sleep Education is the right fit for your family? Reach out to Nested Mama and schedule your free 15-min chat today. Like a switch flipping, summer is here. Our days are longer and move with the sun. We adventure in the morning, rest in the heat of the day, and maximize our evening hours biking to the neighborhood park after dinner. When the seasons change, I’m always struck suddenly with the changes in my children, and I find myself taking stock of how quickly it seems their baby days passed by. My once timid oldest hangs confidently upside down from the monkey bars. My middle guy tackles sliding down the pole without any help. And my sweet once-baby-now-toddler stretches out her tether to my side as she explores. While relishing the summer heat with a splash pad/park/picnic morning, I found myself squinting past the water spray to see my youngest investigating an old tree stump on the other side of the splash pad. Amazed at her adventurous wanderings, my friend remarked that she seemed like a completely different and more independent kiddo than the last time we got together a few weeks previously. I had to agree. It wasn’t long ago that she journeyed no father than a 5-foot radius from my feet. But here she was, confidently navigating the splash pad and nearby play structure with stops back to the home base of our picnic blanket in between. In the course I’m taking to become a Certified Infant Sleep Educator, we’ve been learning about the evolution of parenting ideas across the past century and the way in which our culture still voices truisms of early 20th century “experts” whose underlying philosophy we’d no doubt reject in a heartbeat -- such as John B. Watson's childcare writings that prohibited hugging and kissing your children beyond one nightly peck on the forehead. The legacy of that and other behaviorist ideas about children can be found in these pearls of wisdom that one hears or reads about so often: “Don’t let him use you as a pacifier.” “You can’t always pick her up when she cries.” “You need to train him to be more independent.” “If you hold her too much, you’ll spoil her.” “You’re just making a rod for your own back by getting up with him at night.” “Ignore her when she cries. She’ll get the message that she can’t get anything by crying.” Behind all of these commonplace observations lies one great fear - that by showing our little babes too much affection, we undermine their ability to successfully separate from their caregivers as children and later adults. In this view, independence must be taught, separation must be imposed, and emotions must be squelched in pursuit of toughening our children for life ahead. So what about my almost Miss 2 who suddenly felt comfortable exploring the splash pad and playground instead of staying in my lap or my arms? What lessons did I teach her to make this independence flourish? Nothing. Or rather, no lessons on independence, per se. Topping the list of the lessons I hope she has learned so far in her nearly 730 days earthside are the following: That her parents are always there when she needs us. That our laps, our arms, or our voices will be there whenever she needs reassurance. That we respond to her distress whether the sun or the moon lights the sky. That we will listen to her feelings with empathy and respect. That we will set boundaries to keep her safe and hold them with love. That we make mistakes, but we also ask for forgiveness and work to make things right.
Like the picnic blanket at the park offered her a home base from which to check in and depart, the closeness of our relationship offers her the steady support to explore and embrace the work of growing up. We don’t need to force her to explore or to grow. When she’s ready, she’ll do it just fine. In fact, our house fairly echoes with declarations of “I do it MYSELF.” All. Day. Long. Even as she needs the closeness of a parent to drift off to sleep, she needs the space to experiment with her own capability, but on her own time. Instead of demanding that she take a step toward independence and feeling frustrated when she pushes back, I wait with confidence. And, I leverage the help of a spouse and self-care time when my own frustrations or triggers get in the way of me parenting her with the patience that confidence requires. Because in a way, I’m parenting myself as I parent her and my other children. Instead of living in a place of fear and opposition, I choose to give confidence to her, and in the process, to myself. That she is enough and right where she needs to be, and I am enough, too. Are you looking for support as you grow your family? Check out the full range of Nested Mama services, including doula support, childbirth education, eco baby consultations, and infant sleep education.
My kids are scientists - they learn by exploring. Everything. That hand soap over there? How many pumps can I fit in my hand? What does it feel like if I coat my hands and the sink in suds? How much rinsing does it take to get the bubbles off? My kids are artists - they create using any medium. Anything they can find. That bar of soap on the dish? Surely that was meant for sculpting, right? What does it look like when I break it into bits? Can I make something new of those pieces mixed with water? Because even a trip to the bathroom sink to wash hands after playing with chalk turns into a wondrous science experiment or artistic creation, I want to know exactly what is in my kids' hand soap. For me, making it myself offers just that option. That said, for me to make ANYTHING myself it needs to be quick and easy. Today, I’m sharing the simple DIY foaming hand soap recipe I use at all our sinks. In addition to being quick and simple to diy, this foaming hand soap makes it easy for little ones to work up a good lather. And, it is also extremely inexpensive, which means that when they decide to make foaming beards instead of washing hands, I don’t stress about wasted soap. What you need: Distilled water (Or boil tap water for 10 min and then cool.) Dr. Bronner’s Liquid Castile Soap (You only need a tiny bit, so one bottle lasts me years.) Foaming bottle dispenser (If you have one from other soap, just give it a good rinse and fill it with your new diy version!) What you do:
Because I use this to wash baby and kid hands, I choose the unscented baby castile soap. If you prefer scents, Dr. Bronner’s has many varieties available. Did you try this DIY recipe? Share your thoughts below. Are you looking for more ways to make your home eco-friendly for baby? Check out Nested Mama’s Eco Baby Consultations.
Some days of mothering are beautiful. Some days are beautifully intense. Some are beautifully intense and also exhausting and hard. I remember being in my second pregnancy and so tired. Just so tired. And, despite my overwhelming desire to sleep and rest, my wonderful toddler continued to move into new, exciting, and challenging stages. These stages required lots of physical play, vigilance over choking hazards, and growing pains for me as I learned how to parent her in year two. A few weeks ago, I found myself scrolling through the posts of one of my favorite online parenting support forums. A mom* posted about the challenges of being in the third trimester of a pregnancy and parenting a toddler. She asked if anyone could share some suggestions for how to handle a toddler who was struggling with change and transition. Thinking primarily of helpful parenting tips, I shared a favorite parenting resource I turn to when a phase of kiddo development sends me scurrying for new tools. I also mentioned my go-to recipe of empathy, verbalizing my kids feelings, and repeating over and over, “My child is having a hard time, not giving me a hard time.” But, a few days later while out on a run, I couldn’t stop thinking about this mom and my response to her post. To be fair, the original post had asked for parenting tips, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d neglected something important in my reply. In my rush to offer helpful advice, I forget to say something even more vital - that finding yourself at the end of a pregnancy and facing toddler parenting is hard. So hard. And, it is okay, human, normal, and healthy that this would be a challenging time. As my feet found their rhythm on the pavement, my mind continued to swirl around the words I wished I said. These words would offer not a list of how-tos, but acknowledgment, validation, and support. Amazingly, the next time I found myself scrolling through the forum, this lovely mom had responded to my comment. She thanked me for my suggestions, but also expressed the same fear that lurks - sometimes fuzzily, sometimes sharply - in the back of my mind - the fear that I am failing my child. With that opening, I found the space to say the words that had played on a loop in my head for all those miles. Words that, better than any article or parenting tip, speak to the reality of that moment when heart and hands are full and body and spirit are tired. Gathering my courage, I wrote: “I was thinking about you on my run this morning. And, if I may be so bold, I wanted to share this with you. I know it is hard - this beautifully intense season of being at the end of a pregnancy, on the precipice of a huge family change, and parenting a toddler. Honestly, my end of pregnancy/early postpartum days with my toddlers were some of my big parenting challenges. But, I also know that one day, maybe in a month or a year, you'll look back on this time in a quiet moment and see it all with such clarity. You will feel both wonder at and utter conviction in your strength as a mother and your love for your children. You are not letting him down. Even when the individual moments seem oh so messy, know that you are enough.” I realized, as I posted this response, that I was speaking as much to her as myself. Each season has its own intensity, its own challenge. But, if I’m honest, the biggest challenges come not from my children, but from me. How do I grow and change alongside my children? How do I parent them in a season that requires I constantly fill their cups when I find mine is almost always drained to the last drop?
For in responding to this lovely mom late in pregnancy and on the verge of transitioning into life as a mom of two, my own struggles surfaced. I was reminded of how I wept as though my heart was breaking about my fears of having enough love for two children before my labor finally started with my second child. I was reminded about how the times that seem most challenging with my children almost always coincide with my own big feelings rising up and fears speaking loudly in my mind. I was reminded, too, about the driving conviction behind my leap into work as a prenatal and postpartum doula. In these moments of transition, we need support. We need to know we aren’t alone. And, we need to know that we can do it, no matter how hard or overwhelming or frustrating it seems in the moment. If you find yourself in one of these beautifully intense seasons of mothering, dear reader, know that the moments may seem messy, but one day you will step back and see it clearly, outlined by your strength and love. *All details in this blog are shared with the permission of the mom who posted the original comment that is its inspiration. I am grateful for her willingness to let me share these thoughts and also the way in which our conversation deepened my own understanding. Looking for more support? Learn more about Nested Mama Prenatal & Postpartum Doula Support. Connect with Nested Mama on Facebook. At 20 months, my youngest child has transformed over the past 6 months from baby to toddler. While my older two are happy to head off to bed with some lullabies or an audiobook, Miss E still needs me close to relax and fall asleep. As we lie next to each other, eyes level and holding hands in the dark, she often surprises me with what she has to say in those moments before sleep.
[Silence for several minutes while lullabies play.] Me: [beginning to believe E is asleep, considering the best course for extracting my hand and ninja-ing away] E: “Sissy . . .sissy buckle self.” Me: [drawing my attention away from my plan to sneak away and trying to mentally place this sudden comment] E: "SISSY BUCKLE SELF." Me: “Yes, your sister buckles herself.” E: “Bubby buckle self.” Me: “Yes, Buddy buckles himself.” E: “Daddy, daddy buckle self.” Me: [wheels really turning by this point] “Yes, Daddy buckles himself.” E: “Mommy, Mommy . . .MOMMY!” Me: “Yes, E?” E; “Mommy buckle self.” Me: [understanding] “E, are you frustrated that you can’t buckle yourself in the car?” E: “Uh-huh.” Following her declarative “uh-huh,” she rolled over and drifted easily off to sleep. Meanwhile, I found myself wide awake in the dark, mind churning over the past weeks during which getting my toddler into and out of the car has been one of the more difficult points of every single day. We drive - a lot. Dropping off and picking up the older kids, running errands, visiting the library, and exploring playgrounds all mean getting in and out of the car seat many times a day. In the weeks before this late-night (by toddler standards) conversation, my formerly happy-to-be-traveling toddler began declaring “NO BUCKLE” at an ever-increasing volume and making it quite difficult to get her settled in her seat. As she is my third toddler, I’ve experienced this phase before, and I can handle it with some degree of calm. But, in my mind, the car seat kerfuffle had totally become a power struggle. On my side, the need to quickly and efficiently and safely get my littlest into the car. On her side, utter refusal to make quick or efficient or safe possible. I found myself battling increasing frustration with every car trip. But, as I sat there in the dark while she snored softly beside me, I realized that I had it wrong. All wrong. This wasn’t a power struggle. This was a child trying to communicate to me again and again with the tools at her disposal that buckles are a big deal and that doing it herself (like everyone else) really mattered. Buckling myself in doesn't seem like a hill to die on, but for her in that moment it was just that. If I’m honest, bedtime is far from my favorite point in the day. I’m tired, and I’m ready for a little adult conversation or the chance to read a book or write something without too much distraction. So these little chats my toddler loves to have before settling in don’t always strike me as the most treasured moment in the day. For example, she will want to discuss at length and with great repetition the pizza that we had for dinner several days ago, who ate it, and whether or not it is indeed all gone. While I strive to be the kind of parent who savors ALL THE MOMENTS, I know that in reality, no one can savor all the moments. Sometimes I’m tired. Sometimes I’m checked out. Sometimes I’m ready to be done for the day. But this little conversation about who gets to “buckle self” and the knowledge that it matters deeply to my toddler? That is a moment I will tuck in the pocket of my mind and revisit often. Not because it will suddenly make all the moments of car seat strife past, present, and future magically disappear or overlay with a rosy filter and soaring music. I will treasure this conversation because of what it means for me as mother and how I approach my children in a time of trouble - big or small. When I had my first child, I suddenly found access to a part of myself that I didn’t even know existed. This part has the capacity to love with more self-giving and more strength than anything I had ever imagined. This part of me also has the capacity to grow, meeting each of the challenges of parenting by stretching and expanding - often with intense growing pains but still working to grow into the kind of parent I truly want to be. This is the part of me I can turn to when standing opposite a red-faced toddler, stiff and screaming, in a busy parking lot. This is the part of me I can lean into and find empathy and calm in the face of frustration. This is place where I can come at a problem with collaboration, creativity, and humor. An essential piece of this is listening, really listening, to what my child is saying and hearing it without the one-sided narrative playing in my mind - that one-sided narrative that says the car seat standoff is about power. But, it’s not. Or rather, it doesn’t have to be. Not for me. Today, as I was getting my toddler zipped up to head out the car, I asked, “E, when we get to the car, can we buckle you in together?” She responded, “Uh-huh. Buckle.” She’s growing and learning. You want to know the best part? I’m growing and learning, too. |
AuthorJohanna received a Ph.D. in English in 2014. Now a postpartum doula and educator of childbirth, breastfeeding, and infant sleep, she blogs about pregnancy, birth, postpartum, and parenting. Archives
February 2021
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