Super Nanny? No thanks.

Claire's dad and I have been doing the "Shared Parenting Plan" for almost 2 years now. I hate that Claire has to be shuttled back and forth, back and forth. But at least it's really all she knows. She's too young to remember the time when Mommy & Daddy & Claire all lived together as one "happy" family before her world was suddenly ripped apart.

Lately, I'm wondering if she will ever get used to it all. She's 2 1/2, which is an experience all on it's own, much less adding living in two houses and having two separate families to the mix. Currently, Claire and I live with my parents and have for two years now- something that can be looked at as a blessing or a curse, depending on what day you ask me. (Don't get me wrong, I totally appreciate all that they have done for us and continue to do, but come on- it definitely has it's down sides. Sometimes I can't help but feeling like Grandma is trying to be Mom.) On the other side, Claire's dad stayed in our apartment for a few months after we split, then moved to his parents, and has recently moved into his girlfriend's-- oh, excuse me-- his fiance's house. Now they're this happy little family, playing house with my daughter when she's there.

Claire is my perfect little angel during the week with me, such a big girl for 2 1/2-- sweet, helpful, caring, listens well, everything a mommy could ask for. Then. She goes to her dad's for the weekend. Every other weekend, she leaves on Friday evening and comes back Sunday evening. On the opposite Fridays, she goes to spend the day with him. And when she comes back? Most of the time I think that he brought the wrong kid back. She's whiny, over tired because she more than likely didn't nap for the entire time or at least most of the time she was there, cranky, and down-right mean. She comes back like a teenager, constantly saying "no!", swatting at everyone to hit them, doesn't listen to a single thing she is told-- you get the picture. It literally takes me about 3 days on average to "retrain" her to how she is supposed to behave, and let me tell you, it's a rough 3 days for both of us. She spends a lot of time in time-out and I spend a lot of time crying after-hours. Three days of hard work and raw emotion to have "my" Claire back for a day and then the cycle starts all over again when she goes back to her dad's.

At this point, I am soooooo frustrated and so torn! I know that I have to keep my rules and my expectations as they have always been. And I do. But when she comes home after two full days away and is so rotten tired because of her dad's parenting decisions, I start to find it hard to "get tough" or "get my bluff in on her" (as some have stated) for being tired when it's not her fault to begin with. How is it fair to either one of us to punish her for something that she can't change, something that someone else decides for her?! She comes home after two days away and wants her mom and comfort, even if it means that she's a little emotional and might cry over something stupid like Pa eating a piece of cheese that she thought was hers. She's two and a half people-- those kind of things tend to upset a small child. Yes, try to explain it to her, but do not get upset with her-- she doesn't know!! Don't we all have moments like that where we're exhausted, we just want whatever our comfort item is, and so what if we cry a little over something stupid? We all have moments like that at one point or another, so don't belittle a child for feeling the same way!!

The people who seem to want to make comments constantly to put me down and make me sound (and not to mention feel) like a bad parent only see bits and pieces of her behavior. They aren't at home with Claire & I during the day and they certainly don't see her behavior then. Like any SAHM and child, we have our bad days. But 98% of the time, she is fine at home with me. I have no problem "keeping her under control". She steps out of line and she gets a crack on the butt and/or a time out. So... later in the day, I DO NOT need a Super Nanny wanna-be hanging over my shoulder directing me on what I should do next. Surprisingly enough, that only makes the whole situation worse!! *Gasp* Go figure!

It's a vicious cycle and it's one that I hope ends soon. I hate that my little girl has to go through this and I hate that I have to either be the bad guy to Claire or look like the bad parent to outsiders.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!

I would like to wish everyone a very blessed and safe holiday.

Merry Christmas from Jessica & Claire!

5 Things I Love About Being A Mom

In the middle of the "Terrible Two's" stage, I have to constantly remind myself of what I love the most about being a mom. From looking at other blogs, I have discovered this thing called "Around the World in 80 Clicks!" The idea is for moms around the world to share five things that they love about being a mom. Most entries that I have read focus on the philosophical aspect-- that it has taught them patience, brought them closer to their own parents, etc. While those things remain true for many of us, I'm going to share with you the things that I love the most about being a mom:

1. Claire's giggles that are followed by belly laughs every time the "tickle monster" makes an appearance. She is the only child I know who asks to be tickled!

2. The beautiful sparkle in my daughter's eyes when she smiles.

3. The sound of her little voice saying "mommy". Nothing else beats it!

4. Her unconditional love- even after I've put her in time out, she runs to me with open arms, a huge hug and a wet kiss.

5. Finally understanding what it means to say that my heart hurts. I never ever imagined how much I could possibly love my little girl, and my heart actually hurts with so much love when I look at her.

I challenge all moms reading this blog to also share the top 5 reasons that you love being a mom!

Motherhood Brings Meaning

from "The Little Book on Meaning" by Laura Fortgang

It's long been assumed that motherhood brings meaning to our lives. We guide, love, nurture and support our offspring and sometimes feel appreciated in return -- all elements that can fuel our connectedness and satisfaction in the world. It's easy to find meaningful moments as a mom, but it's when things are tough that it seems we don't know how to interpret what meaning is. What if the greatest reward and meaning of being a mother is the growth our children force us to do?

Being a parent is a very hard job no matter how you slice it, but to further the true blessing that children are is to work equally hard on being conscious and mindful of the growth our kids call forth in us. Perhaps your patience needs work or your critical side needs to be quieted or you need to learn compassion or you could stand to give up some perfectionism. Parenting in a kind and loving way can only come if we face these issues in ourselves. Maybe this is the true meaning behind being in relationship with these souls.

Meaningful connections as mothers? Certainly! Always a sunny, easy ride? Hardly ever! Our children are in reality ministers to our soul's growth. They have a higher calling then whatever their careers turn out to be. We have to let our little ministers to their very big work. Even if we, their mothers, are the greatest work they came to transform.

The Most Gorgeous Lil Elf This Side of the North Pole!

Wanted to share Claire's Christmas 2009 pictures....

Potty Training

Potty training is sooooo much harder than I ever thought it would be for Claire! She started off a year ago by going potty for the first time and I thought "Great! This will be a sinch!" Not so much. There has been so much inconsistency between being at home, being at her dad's and being at school a few days a week that she just doesn't seem to care. I tried the treat thing. I'm trying the sticker reward chart right now-- go pee pee and get one sticker; go poop and get two-- fill up the whole chart and you get something special! That started off good, but has kind of come to a halt. She pretty much just wants to sit there and goof around instead of actually going potty. She is starting to show a little more bladder control- staying dry during naps or for a several hour stretch at at time. So when I realize that she's been dry for a while and probably should have peed by then, I try to get her to go potty. She tries. She doesn't go. Then within 5 minutes of putting her pull-up back on, she pees in it. Now that I'm off school for a month, I'm going to really try to crack down, but I'm starting to feel pretty frustrated. Thinking about maybe putting the thick cotton training underwear on her instead of the pull-ups and if she pees in them then she will realize that she doesn't like that, but that is a LOT of clean-up if she doesn't catch on quickly. Aurgh!!! Any suggestions moms??

Sleigh Bells Ring, Are Ya Listenin...?

Claire & I spent about two weeks talking about Santa Clause. I kept telling her that we were going to go visit him soon and she was totally excited! So the day came last Sunday. In the car on the way, she told me that she was going to ask Santa for new toys, books, and a baby doll. Claire & I stood in line at the mall and she watched in amazement as each child climbed up on his lap. I asked her repeatedly if she was going to sit on his lap just like they were. Her eyes grew big with excitement and vigorously nodded a "yes!" each time. Then, it was our turn. Three feet away, however, Claire put on the brakes and she refused to go any closer, much less sit on his lap like she said she would. She didn't say a single word until she barely whispered "Thank you" for the candy cane he handed her. The next day, all she could talk about was that she visited Santa.

This is Claire visiting Santa last year:

And THIS was Claire visiting Santa this year:

Terrible Two's

I started this blog several months ago, foolishly thinking that I would have the time to keep up with it. Ha. As soon as my first semester of nursing school started, any ideas that I had for blog topics were hurriedly pushed to the back of my mind and replaced with nursing care plans, diagnoses, and dosage calculations. Now that the semester has drawn to an end, I have pulled out those ideas, dusted them off, and now I'm ready to talk....

Let me just start with this "Terrible Two" thing. WHAT is this?! WHEN did my sweet lovable little angel turn into a terror with evil eyes and the attidude and temper of a pre-teen?! WHERE did she learn to respond with a "no" by saying "Nooo-ahh"?! Just the other day, I cut her hot dog in half on the bun, just as I always do so she can hold it easier, and you would have thought the world came to an end. She was seriously traumatized by my action and cried-- really cried-- for a good several minutes. She now will tell me something and say "Look at me. Understand me?" Ohhhh and just today she responded to something I told her by saying "You want a knuckle sandwich?" while holding her fist out. WHAT?! Girfriend, you better put that thing away. She's like a 16 year old girl in the middle of p.m.s. and it's like constantly walking on eggshells around her. It's no telling what will set her off. She has been put in time out so many times over the last few months that I don't even have to tell her to go sit in time out. She sees the look on my face and puts herself in time out. It's hard for her... there is so much inconsistency between being at home, being at "school", and being at her dad's and/or her other grandma's house. I know she's two and the tempers are going to happen. But oh. My. God. If what everyone says about the threes being worse is true, I just can't imagine it and boy do I dread it!

Do you have Terrible Two's stories to share? I'd love to hear them!

Push!!

I thought I would start off by telling you the story of my pregnancy and labor/delivery.

I'm 36 weeks in this picture:

I was almost 8 weeks along before I found out I was pregnant. I conceived in late October, and shortly after Thanksgiving I was struck with the flu. Or so I thought. Kinda hard to call it the flu when you don't really have the chills or a fever. Turns out it was the beginning of Morning Sickness, and little did I know that the glorious side effect of pregnancy would stay with me for much longer than I could appreciate. In early December, it dawned on me that I might be pregnant. So I bought a double-pack pregnancy test and headed to one of my best friends' place for the evening. We had plans to go line-dancing that night, and I finally talked myself into taking one of the tests shortly before we left. I went into the bathroom, did my business, and took the stick out to sit it on the counter and start the timer, all the while refusing to look at it. After what seemed like a lifetime, the timer went off. I couldn't bring myself to look at the results, so I had my friend look for me. What I heard next was "Do two lines mean you're pregnant? Because there are definitely two lines." My response to that? "Give me those instructions!!" I frantically spent the next 5 minutes double and triple checking the directions for reading results, as well as searching for a clause that may have been hidden in the Spanish instructions (true story!). After being laughed at by my friend, I was forced to swallow the information and accept it. I proceeded to call my best friend to tell her the news, and then we headed out for our night of line dancing. The second we turned the car on, "My Little Girl" by Tim McGraw came on the radio. At that moment, I somehow knew that a) I would be having a little girl, and b) that everything would be okay in the end.

Emotionally, the course of my pregnancy was rough wherever Claire's father was concerned. It took him the entire nine months to finally accept the turn of events. As far as hormones go, my emotions were okay, except for a point a little more than half way through where I cried at the drop of a hat. I remember witnessing someone being yelled at by someone else, and I was the one who cried!

All other aspects of my pregnancy were interesting to say the least. My morning sickness started extremely early (about 4 weeks) and lasted until the end of my fourth month. And let me tell you, it is far from limited to morning, as its name implies. I was sick at every point in time throughout the day and I considered myself lucky if I made it through an entire 24 hour period without vomiting. Even saltine crackers made me sick! I pretty much lived on bland Cheerios, toast, and cooked white rice. And Jolly Ranchers- those things were a lifesaver (my nurse practitioner suggested them to curb the nauseating feeling and they worked like a charm)! The biggest thing that bothered me were the smells of different foods, especially fish. To this day a strong fishy odor turns my stomach just a little. My severe morning sickness caused a 22 pound weight LOSS over the course of the first four months of my pregnancy, which was a little troubling since the whole goal of pregnancy is to actually put ON a little weight to nourish the baby. However, my doctor recognized that it was a fairly normal thing to have happen, and after those first four months, my nausea went away and my appetite started improving again. I went through craving phases.... anything cheesy or cheese flavored, chocolate, ice cream, and toward the end since I was due in July, I craved a lot of fresh fruit. I wound up making up for those 22 pounds that I initially lost, and even gained about 12 more.

My due date was July 16th, 2007. On Monday, July 2nd, I went in for my weekly check up. I saw the nurse practitioner that day and although I was barely dilated to 2cm, her opinion was that I would be lucky to deliver by my due date. The evening of the 3rd, I went to fireworks for the holiday, which really got the baby moving! On the 4th of July, I woke up feeling extremely too pregnant, and felt like I was carrying the baby lower. My mom and I had plans that day to go shopping, since there were still a few things I needed to complete the baby's nursery collection and to be able to pack my bags for the hospital. Leaving breakfast that morning, my mom stopped me in the parking lot, looked at my belly and said "Oh boy, we better get a move on today- you're really low!" After a few hours of shopping, we came home to finish putting together the baby's bed, put away all of her clean clothes, and I packed a bag for myself and the baby for the hospital. Now I was all ready.

The following morning (the 5th), I woke up at 7am, just as my mom was getting ready to leave for work. I said goodbye and headed for the bathroom to go pee- a frequent occurrence late in pregnancy! I was still kind of groggy from just waking up, so I sat there for a minute..... thought I was done. Nope. Sit back down. Pee some more. Done this time. Hmm, guess not. Better sit back down. Then I started thinking "Wait a minute... I don't feel any bladder pressure. And I can't really stop the flow. Did my water break?!" So what do I do? I texted my friend who is a nurse. The text I got back? "CALL YOUR DOCTOR!!" Ohhhhh yeah, I guess I should! All the while remaining on the toilet, I called the doctor on call for the practice. Roughly 15 minutes later she called back and after I told her what was happening, she said she wanted me to go to the hospital to get checked out.

My mom works about 45-50 minutes away, and by the time I called her to tell her that she needed to turn around to take me to the hospital, she was almost to work. I waited. On the toilet. Then I decided I didn't want to go to the hospital in my pajamas, without a bra, with morning breath and crazy bed head. So I got up, put on about 3 feminine pads, and got to work. Despite walking around the house with a football between my legs, I was dressed and ready to go by the time my mom got back to the house. Walking through the kitchen to go out to the car, I thought to myself "Gosh, I should probably eat some breakfast," because I knew that once I was officially in labor they wouldn't let me have anything to eat, but quickly thought maybe this was just a false alarm and I would be able to eat later when they sent me home. From that thought in the kitchen, I don't remember anything else until we got to the hospital. They wheeled me in and got me set up in a triage room. The nurse came in and didn't even have to check me, she knew by looking around "down there" that I was in labor. "Ok, let's get her upstairs and hooked up!" OH MY GOD. This was it. I was in labor!

After making several phone calls to Claire's dad, my dad, Claire's other set of grandparents, my grandparents, and my boss to tell her I wouldn't be in that day, they took me to my room. It was the usual-- IV, paperwork out the wazoo, changing into that oh-so-sexy hospital gown, and laying on a mountain of absorbent pads. By the time all of this got done, it was going on about 9am. I really hadn't felt any contractions up to this point, so they decided to start Pitocin, a medication that naturally mimics the hormone "oxytocin", which stimulates labor. Over the next few hours, my contractions gradually got stronger and I started to progress- slowly, that is. By early afternoon, it seems as though everyone and their brother had showed up in my room, on top of the numerous staff members. My parents, my grandparents, my aunt, Claire's dad, his parents, his brother, sister-in-law and nieces, and his best friend along with her parents and two little girls. By 4:00pm I was exhausted, starved, and in a whole lot of pain. The doctor came in to check me and I was FOUR CENTIMETERS dilated. That's all. After 7 hours. Four. By that point I all but begged for the epidural, which I had been dreading over the last 9 months even more than the labor. Despite the fact that Claire's dad and I actually weren't on speaking terms when I went into labor, he was there and found it in himself to step up, and actually I will always have to give him credit for being so strong and supportive while I was in labor. It turned out he was pretty much the only person I really didn't want out of my sight. So, when the anesthesiologist said that he had to leave the room for me to get the epidural, I started to break down a little. There I was, about to face the thing I was afraid of the most about this experience, and they were telling me that the one person that was my comfort couldn't hold my hand through it. A new nurse was coming on duty and pretty much told me to suck it up. At that point I didn't like her. Little did I know that she was an incredible OB nurse and she would get me through a lot over the next day. Anyway, I got my epidural, and let me tell those of you who haven't had one- they really aren't that bad! I could hardly feel it in comparison to the contractions. It was greaaaat!!

Visitors continued to come and go over the next couple of hours. I was so hungry that I kept watching the Food Network channel on TV, living vicariously through it. By 7pm I was dilated to 7cm, and 8cm by 8pm. Somewhere between the 4cm and 7cm, though, the baby's heart rate started dropping, so the nurses slapped some oxygen on me and flipped me into a weird and completely uncomfortable position to get her to move around to get optimal oxygen. A short while later, she was fine. But it was when I hit the 8cm that things started getting difficult. I hit the 8cm around 8pm, but then I started dilating unevenly-- something I had never even heard of or knew could happen! So, when they checked me again at 9:30/10pm, my left side was still at 8cm but my right side had progressed to 10. Apparently this was because the baby was moving down the canal crooked, causing uneven pressure on my cervix, thus resulting in uneven dilation. That made me have to flip into more uncomfortable positions to try to get her to move correctly. Apparently, unannounced to me, there was talk about a cesarian section and the nurses were getting ready to book an OR when the baby started behaving and I finally dilated evenly to 10cm, around 11:00. The doctor announced that I would start pushing soon while I was in the room alone, and my nerves went through the roof! Ohhhh did I mention that sometime right before reaching an even 10cm, my epidural wore off? Yup. I begged the nurses for more, but the doctor wouldn't let me have it because he wanted me to be able to feel where I was pushing. Crap.

So, I started pushing a little before 11:30pm.... and I pushed and pushed and pushed. By this time, exhaustion was not even close to describing how I felt. Me, Claire's dad, both of our moms, and my best friend were in the room, along with two doctors and two nurses. My mom got yelled at for reminding me to breathe and my best friend got yelled at for saying "boy, you must be exhausted" following a difficult push. Gee, you think?! Had I been able to get out of that bed, I probably would have slapped her. About half-way through, I completely stopped listening to my nurse and the doctor. Claire's dad pretty much took over in his Army Bootcamp mentality, and he pretty much ordered me to push her out when I was ready to give up.

Good thing I listened to him.... because at 1:28am on Friday, July 6th, 2007, Claire Noel was born. She weighed in at 6 pounds 6 ounces and was 19 inches long.... and she was perfect. See for yourself...

Please feel free to share your pregnancy/labor stories!

Welcome!

Hello to everyone reading this blog.... I have tried blogging before, but never really stuck with it, maybe because they were just random topics that I really wasn't too concerned about. However, this time around, I have decided to created "Exploring Mommyhood", a place for moms like you and I to do just that- explore the different findings of being a mom.

Let me start off by telling you a little bit about myself for those of you who don't know me:

My name is Jessica, and I am a 26 year old single mother to an amazing and beautiful 2 year old little girl, Claire. I live in North Eastern Ohio; I am a State Tested Nurse's Aide in a local senior care facility; and I am attending a local hospital's College of Nursing to obtain my Associate's Degree in Nursing, as well as another local college to obtain an Associate's Degree in Business Management. My career goal is to one day become an administrator of a healthcare facility, either specializing in pediatrics or senior care.

Claire is by far the absolute best thing to have ever happened in my life, unexpected as she may have been! Her dad and I spent the previous four years in the "off and on again" kind of relationship. We were either crazy about each other and in love or we were at each other's throats. There was never really an in between. Part of this was due to him being an active member in the Army. We would be okay... and then when it came time for deployment he would push me away and we would spend that entire time fighting... then somehow whenever he came home we managed to find each other and share a few "crazy nights" together and be okay just in time for the cycle to start all over again before the next deployment. Four years and three deployments later, when he was finally discharged from the Army and moved home, we started spending more time together. Only that time around it was the "I hate you... but I love to hate you" relationship. We had history, we had passion, we had the perfect mix of love and hate to make one heck of a steamy night after holding our breaths sitting next to each other watching "Flags of Our Fathers" (which, might I say, was not the best choice of movies to watch after what we had been through with our relationship versus the Army). Nine emotional months later, our beautiful little girl was born. We tried to make our relationship work when she was born, but it just didn't. Unfortunately, it took amost one year, many court visits, and a lot of tears to realize that it was okay that it didn't work.

So here I am now.... a single mother trying to do everything that's best for Claire and I, regardless of what it takes. I'm learning a lot on this journey- about Claire, motherhood, family, love, life, and about myself.

Until next time!

~XOXO~