Help Wanted
I need a parenting book for first time parents. It needs to be relatively succinct, not preachy (and not too big would be good). I'm considering Parenting for Dummies, Hardin Gookin; The Wonder Years, American Academy of Pediatrics; Caring for Your Baby and Young Child 5th Edition, American Academy of Pediatrics. Thoughts? Any others you'd recommend instead?
A thunderstorm just started outside. The fe-lion above is sitting next to my monitor, in front of the window. He's not sure if he should a) jump through the window to catch the wildly thrashing tree branches, or b) hide from the lightning.
Challenges and rewards continue apace. I'm so grateful for better living through chemistry. It has helped me access a deep well of patience that I knew I had, but could rarely use in crisis.
Poor little Jamauri has a hard time understanding when it's time to go to sleep, because J (and Jamauri's dad) don't seem to really understand the concept of consistency, and a schedule. So for two nights in a row, when he's been tremendously overtired and J has come to her wit's end, I have sat down with him on my shoulder, softly singing a lullaby (over and over and over) and "pushing" his head down to my shoulder (he's already learned what to do when I palm the back of his head and say, 'head down".) His crying doesn't bother me as much as I would expect, and (as I tell him, gently) I have far more staying power than he does, so I "win" eventually, with him snufling himself to sleep. [I watched my mother and J's mom fight over parenting, so I'm careful to ask before I do anything with Jamauri. No use stripping J of what little agency she's left herself.]
But it was hard not to whack her across the back of her head when I asked her if she fed Jamauri while they were out, and she told me, Yeah, I gave him pizza. [Honey, when the pediatrician said to feed him what you ate, she really wasn't telling you to feed an 8 mo old pizza.]
J threw a little tantrum this morning because she was "tired of everyone telling me what to do. I want to do it my way!" Mind you, I'd just woken up, and hadn't said anything except "coffee...I need coffee". I remember being that sure I was right, and had all the answers. Wish I could be that right today, and that any of the answers would tumble my way. . .
A thunderstorm just started outside. The fe-lion above is sitting next to my monitor, in front of the window. He's not sure if he should a) jump through the window to catch the wildly thrashing tree branches, or b) hide from the lightning.
Challenges and rewards continue apace. I'm so grateful for better living through chemistry. It has helped me access a deep well of patience that I knew I had, but could rarely use in crisis.
Poor little Jamauri has a hard time understanding when it's time to go to sleep, because J (and Jamauri's dad) don't seem to really understand the concept of consistency, and a schedule. So for two nights in a row, when he's been tremendously overtired and J has come to her wit's end, I have sat down with him on my shoulder, softly singing a lullaby (over and over and over) and "pushing" his head down to my shoulder (he's already learned what to do when I palm the back of his head and say, 'head down".) His crying doesn't bother me as much as I would expect, and (as I tell him, gently) I have far more staying power than he does, so I "win" eventually, with him snufling himself to sleep. [I watched my mother and J's mom fight over parenting, so I'm careful to ask before I do anything with Jamauri. No use stripping J of what little agency she's left herself.]
But it was hard not to whack her across the back of her head when I asked her if she fed Jamauri while they were out, and she told me, Yeah, I gave him pizza. [Honey, when the pediatrician said to feed him what you ate, she really wasn't telling you to feed an 8 mo old pizza.]
J threw a little tantrum this morning because she was "tired of everyone telling me what to do. I want to do it my way!" Mind you, I'd just woken up, and hadn't said anything except "coffee...I need coffee". I remember being that sure I was right, and had all the answers. Wish I could be that right today, and that any of the answers would tumble my way. . .