We get a bit tongue-twisted at first, but we're pretty good at them after that. We all have fun reading them, though, with the zany creatures and inane rhymes. He certainly had a knack for making learning fun.
7 February 2011
Book Nook
We get a bit tongue-twisted at first, but we're pretty good at them after that. We all have fun reading them, though, with the zany creatures and inane rhymes. He certainly had a knack for making learning fun.
5 February 2011
On Being a SAHM
While I knew I wanted children, and I wasn't always sure about working outside the home, I wasn't at all convinced that I'd willingly be a stay-at-home-mum and actually enjoy it. I've always been a bit of a homebody, but at the same time get bored if at home day after day. Nor have I ever enjoyed babysitting. It has therefore come as quite a surprise to me to find that I truly enjoy being a SAHM, and in fact get a bit stressed if I think about working outside the home.
This didn't happen overnight, of course. I fell pregnant whilst completing my MA in Egyptology. I'd already planned to continue on to the PhD and had been conditionally accepted, pending submission of my MA dissertation. I submitted that at the end of September, and started the PhD in October. Since K was due in late November, I figured the timing was just about perfect, as I would only miss a week or two of classes before Christmas break, and then would have off until the end of January. A friend told me that I wouldn't want to come back, but I didn't pay much attention to that at the time, though obviously it's stayed in my mind. Now, I know part of the reason for that is that I knew I wasn't allowed to take a maternity leave, given that I was on a student visa. But I also couldn't imagine being happy staying at home with a baby and stopping my studies. I'd been working part-time at the university throughout my pregnancy and planned to come back to that in the spring semester.
On 29 November, at exactly 40 weeks, I gave birth to K. I was transformed by motherhood, and it all seemed to come naturally to me. I found that I was breastfeeding on demand, co-sleeping, babywearing: in short, I was following Attachment Parenting, without even knowing what that was at the time. Even so, I didn't imagine that I wouldn't continue with my PhD, so when January rolled around, I returned to the university. My primary supervisor was more than happy for me to bring K along to meetings and classes, which I appreciated immensely. While we didn't always see eye-to-eye, his welcoming attitude towards me having K with me was wonderful. I was also able to bring K to work with me, though I did work fewer hours at that point. I've joked that K was probably confused about language, given that he accompanied me to French and Middle Egyptian lectures. He even attended a lecture by John Baines, who thankfully was happy for K to be in there, and even joked about it when K cried after a person criticised Baines' conclusions.
As time went on, though, I was becoming more and more stressed about continuing the PhD. I've never been a fan of archaeological theory, as much as I love archaeology. My supervisor and I also have very different personalities and seemed to be speaking past each other a lot, leading to frustration on both sides. So I decided that what I needed was to change supervisors. In the back of my mind I thought maybe I'd prefer staying at home, but I didn't allow myself to think about it too much, since I was still on a student visa and therefore couldn't stop my studies. However, I knew that something had to change, so we talked to the international student office and learnt that I could put myself as a dependent on B's visa and then switch to part-time status. Between that and changing my supervisor, I figured that would be satisfactory.
Only it wasn't. I was still getting more and more stressed and was unhappy with the PhD. That continued until I had tonsilitis when K was 9 months old and then ended up having a panic attack because of worrying that I couldn't care for K if I was ill. I didn't know it was a panic attack, nor did B, so he rang for an ambulance. They realised that it was a panic attack and spoke to me about it, and I finally admitted how stressed I was and that I didn't want to continue with the PhD. I'd not voiced those feelings before, but had kept them to myself. The EMT spoke to B and told him I must be allowed to be a SAHM. B had had no idea I'd felt that way (seeing as I hadn't told him), but he was very supportive. We crunched numbers and figured out how we could cut expenses, and I turned in my notice of withdrawing from the PhD programme. From then on, I've been a SAHM, and I've not regretted it for a day. I love the time playing with the kids, getting to bake our breads, having the opportunity to home educate, and I look forward to many more days and years of this.
This didn't happen overnight, of course. I fell pregnant whilst completing my MA in Egyptology. I'd already planned to continue on to the PhD and had been conditionally accepted, pending submission of my MA dissertation. I submitted that at the end of September, and started the PhD in October. Since K was due in late November, I figured the timing was just about perfect, as I would only miss a week or two of classes before Christmas break, and then would have off until the end of January. A friend told me that I wouldn't want to come back, but I didn't pay much attention to that at the time, though obviously it's stayed in my mind. Now, I know part of the reason for that is that I knew I wasn't allowed to take a maternity leave, given that I was on a student visa. But I also couldn't imagine being happy staying at home with a baby and stopping my studies. I'd been working part-time at the university throughout my pregnancy and planned to come back to that in the spring semester.
On 29 November, at exactly 40 weeks, I gave birth to K. I was transformed by motherhood, and it all seemed to come naturally to me. I found that I was breastfeeding on demand, co-sleeping, babywearing: in short, I was following Attachment Parenting, without even knowing what that was at the time. Even so, I didn't imagine that I wouldn't continue with my PhD, so when January rolled around, I returned to the university. My primary supervisor was more than happy for me to bring K along to meetings and classes, which I appreciated immensely. While we didn't always see eye-to-eye, his welcoming attitude towards me having K with me was wonderful. I was also able to bring K to work with me, though I did work fewer hours at that point. I've joked that K was probably confused about language, given that he accompanied me to French and Middle Egyptian lectures. He even attended a lecture by John Baines, who thankfully was happy for K to be in there, and even joked about it when K cried after a person criticised Baines' conclusions.
As time went on, though, I was becoming more and more stressed about continuing the PhD. I've never been a fan of archaeological theory, as much as I love archaeology. My supervisor and I also have very different personalities and seemed to be speaking past each other a lot, leading to frustration on both sides. So I decided that what I needed was to change supervisors. In the back of my mind I thought maybe I'd prefer staying at home, but I didn't allow myself to think about it too much, since I was still on a student visa and therefore couldn't stop my studies. However, I knew that something had to change, so we talked to the international student office and learnt that I could put myself as a dependent on B's visa and then switch to part-time status. Between that and changing my supervisor, I figured that would be satisfactory.
Only it wasn't. I was still getting more and more stressed and was unhappy with the PhD. That continued until I had tonsilitis when K was 9 months old and then ended up having a panic attack because of worrying that I couldn't care for K if I was ill. I didn't know it was a panic attack, nor did B, so he rang for an ambulance. They realised that it was a panic attack and spoke to me about it, and I finally admitted how stressed I was and that I didn't want to continue with the PhD. I'd not voiced those feelings before, but had kept them to myself. The EMT spoke to B and told him I must be allowed to be a SAHM. B had had no idea I'd felt that way (seeing as I hadn't told him), but he was very supportive. We crunched numbers and figured out how we could cut expenses, and I turned in my notice of withdrawing from the PhD programme. From then on, I've been a SAHM, and I've not regretted it for a day. I love the time playing with the kids, getting to bake our breads, having the opportunity to home educate, and I look forward to many more days and years of this.
4 February 2011
Evidence?
I'm a big believer in evidence-based medicine. I don't want a treatment just for the sake of doing something, nor do I want something that hasn't been proven to be beneficial and effective, with those benefits outweighing any potential risks/side effects. I'm thankful that there are doctors who look at the evidence and change practises if need be. This is what Dr Nicholas Fogelson is doing in now advocating for delayed cord clamping, since he hasn't seen evidence justifying routine immediate cord clamping. This is also why routine episiotomies are becoming less common, thankfully. And why kangaroo care is, thankfully, becoming more commonplace with preemies.
These things lead me to wonder, though, why these practises were adopted at all, given that the evidence doesn't seem to be there. The commonality I see is that these were all things that said that our bodies were wrong and not to be trusted, or perhaps not "scientific" enough. Maybe that's cynical, but it's how I see it. In the process, women have been told (by implication) that they always need help birthing and caring for their babies. Note: I'm not speaking of those times when medical intervention truly is needed, I am speaking about routinely treating birth as a medical procedure that will always need medical intervention.
Of course, one could also argue that all the things I mentioned above came about due to the medicalisation of birth and women being supine when giving birth in a medical setting, and sometimes too drugged or badly positioned to push effectively. This could, of course, lead to an episiotomy instead of repositioning the woman, and immediately cutting the cord to check the baby instead of placing the baby on the mother's chest. I'd like to say that these things no longer happen, or at least not with midwives, but both happened to me when I had K. There was an OB there, too, so I'm not sure who made the decision for the episiotomy and immediate cord clamping; I only know that it was done, and that I had no say in it. It's one thing if it's a true emergency (though one should always get informed consent if at all possible), but these things likely could have been averted had they just helped me change position first.
Going back to the cord clamping, though, I would again ask: where's the evidence for immediate cord clamping, even when the baby was thought to be in distress? We know about the importance of immediate skin-to-skin contact to regulate the baby's temperature, calm the baby, and facilitate breastfeeding and bonding. We also know that delayed cord clamping can be done even with active management of the third stage of labour. While it might not be routine, the initial checks can be done with the baby on the mother's chest, allowing for both skin-to-skin contact and delayed cord clamping. This could also mean that the baby will avoid being put in a warmer due to his temperature dropping (thankfully that didn't happen with K, as they did hand him over once he'd been checked over).
So before something is done my child or me, show me the evidence.
These things lead me to wonder, though, why these practises were adopted at all, given that the evidence doesn't seem to be there. The commonality I see is that these were all things that said that our bodies were wrong and not to be trusted, or perhaps not "scientific" enough. Maybe that's cynical, but it's how I see it. In the process, women have been told (by implication) that they always need help birthing and caring for their babies. Note: I'm not speaking of those times when medical intervention truly is needed, I am speaking about routinely treating birth as a medical procedure that will always need medical intervention.
Of course, one could also argue that all the things I mentioned above came about due to the medicalisation of birth and women being supine when giving birth in a medical setting, and sometimes too drugged or badly positioned to push effectively. This could, of course, lead to an episiotomy instead of repositioning the woman, and immediately cutting the cord to check the baby instead of placing the baby on the mother's chest. I'd like to say that these things no longer happen, or at least not with midwives, but both happened to me when I had K. There was an OB there, too, so I'm not sure who made the decision for the episiotomy and immediate cord clamping; I only know that it was done, and that I had no say in it. It's one thing if it's a true emergency (though one should always get informed consent if at all possible), but these things likely could have been averted had they just helped me change position first.
Going back to the cord clamping, though, I would again ask: where's the evidence for immediate cord clamping, even when the baby was thought to be in distress? We know about the importance of immediate skin-to-skin contact to regulate the baby's temperature, calm the baby, and facilitate breastfeeding and bonding. We also know that delayed cord clamping can be done even with active management of the third stage of labour. While it might not be routine, the initial checks can be done with the baby on the mother's chest, allowing for both skin-to-skin contact and delayed cord clamping. This could also mean that the baby will avoid being put in a warmer due to his temperature dropping (thankfully that didn't happen with K, as they did hand him over once he'd been checked over).
So before something is done my child or me, show me the evidence.
3 February 2011
Knitting Thursday
I've gotten a fair amount of B's sweater done this week, since the kids have been playing nicely. However, I know I could've been more productive had we not all been under the weather with a cold. Oh well. At least I've gotten the stripes done for the front, so just a few more inches to go before I start the shaping for the neck and shoulders. And then I can start the sleeves.
Catholic Cuisine
H/T to Sister Mary Martha for posting the link for this blog. I think I'll have to try out some of their recipes. I like the idea of being more liturgically minded and choosing recipes according to the liturgical calendar.
2 February 2011
You Know You're a Mother When. . .
-you find yourself saying things like "we don't climb in the washing machine!"
-you have dreams about awesome deals for Fuzzibunz
-you can do almost anything one-handed
-you can cook/clean/chase a toddler whilst wearing and/or nursing a baby
-privacy is a luxury
-you have dreams about awesome deals for Fuzzibunz
-you can do almost anything one-handed
-you can cook/clean/chase a toddler whilst wearing and/or nursing a baby
-privacy is a luxury
1 February 2011
How My Kids Teach Me About God
Being 3, my son is a master of repeating his requests over and over, sometimes growing more frantic and demanding as he goes. I start out by patiently explaining why he can't have it, or can't do that yet, or that I'm in the middle of getting it for him and for him to just wait a little while. As he goes on, I struggle to continue to be calm and patient, and sometimes I find myself saying "stop asking for it!" or telling him that if he keeps bugging me about it, he won't get it. It actually reminds me of that parable of the widow bothering the judge until he gives in and grants her request (Luke 18:1-8). Then I think of how I often ask God for something over and over, never ceasing, and yet He doesn't tell me to stop asking. In fact, we're told to keep asking: Matthew 7:7 "Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you." Now if I can learn to be childlike in my asking and trusting, and yet not childish, with the kicking and screaming and demanding.
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