NJ Moms Blog Retrospect: Confessions from the bedroom

An author's note: Benjamin still sleeps in our bed. I hope by the time he is 10 he will be out.
December 17, 2008
Confessions from the bedroom
Now that I have your attention. This post is not about some sexual deviant behavior -- sorry to disappoint. Although, the issue is starting to effect my sex life (Mom, maybe you shouldn't read any further). My confession is: my son sleeps in our bed. A lot of moms our there are probably saying "me too" but my son Benjamin REFUSES to sleep anywhere but in our bed. I mean when we ask him where his bed is he points to my bedroom not his. If I even dare place his precious little head in his crib, he becomes a demon child looking to wish harm on me.
To set the stage, from the time we brought my son home from the hospital, he was never much of a sleeper. However, my husband and I were led to believe by the nursery room nurses that he was an angel -- a model sleeper. I now know those women lied to me. I never was able to tell stories to other moms of how at 2 months my child slept through the night. The only stories I have been able to tell are horror stories of my child's sleeping habits. For the first three months of Ben's life, I kid you not, someone had to hold him at all times. If we even tried to put him in a pack n' play or in his bassinet, no matter how asleep I thought he was, his eyes would flash open, and even as a newborn, he would give me a dirty look. Trust me, I didn't start co-sleeping because I thought it was a great bonding exercise, it was the only way I could get to sleep. Yes, I know how dangerous it is but it seemed to be even more dangerous to have a mother out there with absolutely no sleep. I also knew my child needed to sleep. And the excuses continue....
I always thought, "he'll adjust" or "he'll outgrow this". I also know this to be untrue. I also now believe that he only likes a soft mattress but it is more lies I tell myself to feel better. In the beginning, I tried to get him back to sleep in his crib but each time he would wake up as soon as he was put in the crib. As a working mother, I got lazy and knew it was easier to bring him in my bed with me and my husband. This has proved to be my biggest downfall. If only I was a stronger person who didn't require sleep I could have powered through this, now at 21 months it is too late, my son will be 21 years of age and still in the bed with mom, dad and our dog.
We've tried it all including "ferberizing". Yeah that was a disaster. Once again, I am too weak. The one night we tried this Benjamin first screamed his head off and paced back and forth in the crib like a caged animal. Next to show us how much he was disappointed in us, he actually riped down the video baby monitor and yelled into it -- I'm not exaggerating. I refuse to let my baby cry to the point of sickness. I just breaks my heart so back into mommy and daddy's bed. Another tactic we used was "the crib isn't such a scary place if mommy is in it", yes I crawled in my son's bed but he only wanted out and wanted to leave me there while him and daddy went to the bed.
Now, I just can't take it. I need to do something. The feet in my back and the kicks in the head just aren't cute anymore. I flash forward five years from now and it scares me. Our new strategy is to buy him a big boy bed but I think it will end up being my bed which isn't a bad thought come to think of it now. Hey, and it's more comfortable than the crib (but don't tell Ben I said that).
This is an original post for NJ Moms Blog. You can also find Jennifer blogging on The Kamienski Chronicles.

NJ Moms Blog Retrospect: If A Man Can Get Pregnant So Easily, Why Can't I?

An author's note: Due to the popularity of this post (my most commmented post), it was reposted to all our sister sites. Just reading over the comments it makes me feel like my words matter.
November 30, 2008
If A Man Can Get Pregnant So Easily, Why Can't I?
Lately, I feel like every time I turn on the news the pregnant man is staring at me. From ABC to CNN, Thomas Beatie was showing off his lovely little girl and announcing that a second child was on the way. While I watched the various interviews, I thought to myself here is a man who is expecting his second child without what seemed to be many fertility issues. From the information I have gathered, the man didn't need to go through any assisted reproductive measures. Yes, the couple used donated sperm but they didn't even need the services of a doctor for the insemination process. In fact, his wife used some sort of bird feeder, at home,to impregnate her husband. I kid you not. A man is expecting child number two because his wife got him pregnant with a device you use to feed a bird.
In my life, I wish the same were true. I wish my husband, Wally, could come along with a bird feeder and make me pregnant but this is not the path I was given in life. Am I bitter towards the pregnant man? A little and not because he is a man but because he seems to be able to get pregnant more easily than me. To get this woman pregnant (meaning me), which supposedly my body was born to do, I need a team of highly paid specialists, hours of mediation, a vegetable-based diet, various yoga positions, many attempts, buckets of money and lots of prayers. While am I blessed to say I was given my miracle after fours years of trying to conceive, I still get a little upset at my non-fertility challenged counterparts. I know it isn't their fault they were given beautiful ovaries (while I was given two rotten eggs) and I should feel happy for them...I should. Don't get me wrong for the most part I do but there is that part of me that is still jealous and can't let it go. But what really drives me up a wall (and I speak for my husband as well when I say this), is the unwanted fertility advice. I know, I know, I know people mean well but for someone who has had yet ANOTHER failed IVF cycle the LAST thing they want to hear is advice on how to get pregnant. So the following is a guide of what not to say to someone who tells you they are having a hard time conceiving.
Never say, "just relax and it will happen." Most women who are suffering from fertility issues have medical problems and all the relaxing, meditating, yoga, wine and vacationing in the world is not going to help them get pregnant. Yes, these things do help you stay sane and do create a hospitable environment for the eggs to grow but it won't change the fact that some has endometriosis, polycystic ovarian syndrome or low ovarian reserve. At a family get together, no less a one year old birthday party, a relative of my husband asked what our hold up was why weren't we having babies yet. Wally kindly explained that we were trying. Wally's relative then told me I needed to "chill out". I had to leave the table for fear of punching him out. Just a warning for people who say those sort of things, if I happened to be in the middle of a cycle and my hormones were raging, I could not have been held responsible for the beating I would have given that man. He was lucky.
Never say, "I know someone who..." Do you really know someone who got pregnant after they adopted a little baby from Cambodia? Do you really know someone who got pregnant even though their tubes were tied? Do you really know someone who after years and years of trying out of blue got pregnant? I don't think you do. It always seems to be someone who knows someone who knows someone. I have never had a first hand account story of fertility hope. Instead, it is always my sister's sister-in-law's cousin twice removed had a child after years of trying by just using Chinese herbs. I am calling it right now -- liar. Here is another little secret, the women who have fertility issues HATE these stories. They are all fine and sweet and wonderful for that mysterious person you don't really know but for the women who have had their hearts broken countless times -- cycle after cycle -- it just breaks their hearts all over again. For the woman who has been told her chances of conception are about 1%, it makes them depressed to know that those stories are just fairy tales. They wish they were real but not for the woman in the story but for them.
Never say, "why don't you try FILL IN THE BLANK HERE?" Unless you have been there done that and it has worked for you don't offer false hope. As a woman who struggled for several years to have a child, I was looking for any miracle cure. I tried it all. Yes, I do believe that a combination of western and eastern medicine is what eventually got me pregnant. I do also know what it felt like one day to stand in the back of my church as a woman with two kids and another on the way told me to try some herbs that a friend of hers used to get pregnant. I had no idea what she was saying all I know is that I wanted to be her. I wanted to be carrying a baby I didn't care what advice she had for me. I also know I couldn't go back to church for awhile after that encounter it made me angry and sad all at once. A place I always felt like I belonged made me feel unwanted like an outcast because I didn't have a baby.
As I think about trying for a second child, I'm not sure I can't put myself through the pain and heartache. I know I will encounter the "when is number two on the way" questions (and have already including on my walk today with my son by a complete stranger) but I will continue to swallow my pride and smile and answer the most tactful way I can, "oh we'll see." And if someone decides to push, I can't be held responsible for what I say next. Remember I warned you.

NJ Moms Blog Retrospect: Honesty May Not Always Be The Best Policy

An author's note: This post was syndicated nationally
November 18, 2008
Honesty May Not Always Be The Best Policy
It has officially happened. I've started lying to my son, and to boot, manipulating him as well. In the past, I have sat on my moral mountain judging others for telling little white lies to their children. But that was before I became a Mom, and now, well now it is different, I have joined the ranks and become a teller of lies.
My husband Wally first noticed it and pointed it out to me the other night. Benjamin hurt his tooth and we were instructed by the dentist to feed him soft foods. Tired of pasta and soup, Ben wanted something else. I tried to give him some cod but when I asked him to try some "fish" I got a lot of head nodding, and not in the vertical direction but in the horizontal. Desperate for Ben to eat something, I told my innocent, unsuspecting child that the fish was something that he actually enjoyed. I told him the fish was a french fry. Next thing I knew, Ben was enjoying fish and even asking for more. Wally then commented, "are we now lying to our son?" Was I? Were we?
As I contemplated the question, I saw out of the corner of my eye Ben smiling after each bite of his fish -- a 20 month old was actually LOVING fish (or fries as Ben liked to think of them as). I didn't feel like getting into a moral match with my husband so I kept the answer simple and I said yes.
In addition to the french fry lie, I have also appealed to my son's sensitive side. Lately, if he sees that someone is upset or afraid. He will go right up to the person and rub their arm or leg or back (whatever body part is close at the time) and tell them it is "okay" in a soft gentle voice as he puts his head close to you. It is perhaps the sweetest thing I have ever seen and I will admit I have used this beautiful side of my son to get something I wanted done without a lot of the headache. Some may call this manipulation - I call it resourcefulness. As I tried to change his poopy filled diaper, he started yelling "no" and running around the coffee table. This has become a normal occurrence as of late and I am just tired of it. On occasion, I've tried to reason with him, "Mommy doesn't like to change smelly diapers either but who wants to sit in poop - I know I wouldn't." Usually, that approach gets a blank stare or more screams. Other times, I have grabbed him kicking and screaming and this just adds to everyone's frustration. This time around, I covered my face with my hands and started pretend crying. The next thing I knew I heard the pitter patter of little feet and pat on the back and "OK, OK" in the sweet innocent little voice. Yes, I am horrible but he sat very still while I changed his pants with no problem.
So if calling fish fries got him to eat the cod and pretend crying got his diaper changed without the drama, then how wrong could that be? I now believe one little white lie is canceled out by the good it can do for my son and others. I'm sure some parenting expert would tell me how wrong it is but for now I will tell my lies (within reason). I'm sure this will come to bite me in the butt but I'll wait until that happens.

NJ Moms Blog Retrospect: Play Ignorning Dad?

November 02, 2008
Play Ignoring Dad or Child Ignoring Dad - Which Would It Be?
Ever since the heyday of the Steel Curtain in 1970s, my husband Wally has been a loyal Pittsburgh Steelers football fan. Like most men on a crisp fall Sunday, he can be seen planted in front of the television remote and beer in hand with some sort of Steelers paraphernalia on his body. And like most men, dare you interrupt him during a game. When Direct TV's NFL Ticket was first introduced, my husband realized a new great love in his life. The love that could let him enjoy ever single Steelers game no matter if it is was the nationally televised game or not. When our son Benjamin came along, I hoped that there would be room for another love in his life. I hoped that he wouldn't be the Dad that ignored his child when there was an "important play on".
Truth be told I really don't like those Dads.
I consider them half a Dad but the world is full of them and who knew I might be married to one. I believed Wally would be a Play Ignoring Dad rather than a Child Ignoring Dad but this was THE Steelers not much compared. And from my own personal experience with Wally and the Steelers, I have been known to take a back seat but I hoped, beyond hope, not with Ben.
I had my answer on a recent Sunday afternoon. Benjamin and I had been out and about all day as not to disturb Wally during prime-time Sunday football viewing hours but we came home before the end of the Steelers game. I asked Ben not to bother his Daddy while the football game was on and hang in the kitchen with dear ole' Mom but I guess Ben had his fill of Mom for the day and wanted his Daddy. Before I realized he was gone, he was in the living room wanting Dad's attention. The pivotal moment was upon us. What type of Dad would Wally be?
As I ran from the kitchen and before I could call a timeout, I saw Ben reach his little hand up to Wally's. I whipped my head around to look at the TV to see what was happening with the game, "God please let it be a commercial!" It wasn't. In fact, it was one of those deciding plays -- the plays where unless it is an emergency please don't even think of bothering me. Wally took his hand but was still watching the television for the play to resume. My fears were becoming reality. He was going to be one of "those" Dads. Just as the play was about to unfold, Ben tugged on Wally's arm for him to follow. I said another prayer to God, "please let him be the Play Ignoring Dad!" With a hopeful look in both my eyes and Ben's, Wally got up from his chair with no reluctance and followed Ben, not only into the other room, but out the door. There Wally stayed and played trucks with our son on the deck -- ignoring the end of the game. Making, what I thought, was the best play of Wally's life. In that split second, I confirmed what I already knew, my husband is one of the best.

NJ Moms Blog Retrospect: A Promise

October 18, 2008
A Promise
My husband, Wally, and I attended the funeral of a friend this weekend. It's the type of experience you never think will happen to you. You have cavalier thoughts before something like this happens that I'm too young to die. I'm way too young to have a friend who has cancer but inevitably it happens and you are smacked back into reality. Being faced with the reality of death often leads you to thinking of many things in your own life.
That day as Wally and I drove to the funeral, we reminisced about Jill and our times with her and her family but we also talked about how our lives would change if one of us died. The one thing I couldn't shake from my mind is how young Jill's children are and how would they remember their Mom. I'm a bit of a cynic and realist by nature and I said the unthinkable in the car that day, "Wally, there is a good chance those children won't remember who their Mom is." It was out there and I said it but what I was really saying was, "Wally, if something happened to me would Benjamin ever really know me?"
To even think that thought, I get a lump in my throat. For the person that dies, the truth is life eventually will go on for their family and friends. It will never, ever be the same but it does go on and that is a good thing -- the right thing. Though, I still wondered how Jill's children will remember her? I say this because I have met children who have lost parents at a young age and as they get older they have vague recollections of their Mom and/or Dad and don't have a real sense of them. Some would argue that is what needs to happen, a possible coping mechanism for the so young and innocent. However, if I was taken from Benjamin's life and someone asked my son "what type of mother I was" or "what was your mom like" and he had little to no answer it would be like losing my life over and over again.
In that car ride when I mentioned this to Wally, he sat and listened and made me a promise. He promised me that it would never happen that Benjamin would always know me. He promised me that my parents, brother and friends would remain close so Ben would know what I meant to each of them. He also promised that whatever life would bring that I would always be Ben's mom and even death couldn't take that away. Having heard those words, I believed it and I believed it for Jill.
It is huge responsibility for those left behind to keep the memory of that person alive. And in my heart, I believe especially for the children. Knowing how much Jill was thought of and loved, I knew Scott, Jill's husband, had made the same promise that he will keep not matter how life changes and goes on.

NJ Moms Blog: The Kamienski Version

Be prepared to see an influx of posts....
With the demise of SV Moms on the horizon, I need to start copying my NJ Moms Blog posts into my personal blog for prosperity. A programming note: there may be repeats.
Here is my very first post on NJ Moms:
A Stranger Is Watching
A Stranger is Watching is the title of New Jersey resident, Mary Higgins Clark's third best-selling novel about a demented kidnapper. While my story isn't as dramatic, it is the story of one Mother's first time experience of letting a complete stranger watch her only child.
This version takes place while visiting friends in Charlotte, NC but to paint a better picture and to truly tap into my paranoia you need the prologue to this story. First, my husband and I were told while trying to have a child that our chances were slim to none. Thus when we had Benjamin, we believed (and still do) that he was set on this earth for a higher purpose (I know all parents believe this but we REALLY think it is true). Second, Ben is watched by his grandmother while my husband and I at work so we've never had to put him in daycare. Finally, if my husband and I ever want to go out on weekends, we have a plethora of highly qualified friends and family to watch him. All of these points equaling that my 19 month old has not had anyone watch him that I don't know and love until a beautiful Sunday in September.
I started worrying about this dilemma before we even stepped foot unto the plane.
About two weeks before the trip, I mention to my husband Wally, "who is going to watch Benjamin when we go the Panthers football game on Sunday afternoon". Wally didn't have an immediate answer which made me panic. He promised me he would speak to our friends about it. Two days before the trip, I was told that their babysitters would be watching Benjamin. This did not sit well with me. Couldn't our friend's parents watch our precious son? I'm sure they would love to see their grandsons and meet Ben. I wouldn't dare let a stranger watch their kids -- maybe the babysitting thing worked for them but not for this mom. Wally reassured me that everything was going to be okay. How did he know? Didn't he care?!?
I would like to say things got better when we got to Charlotte but it actually got more gut-wrenching for me. Not only was a random group of girls watching my son, but our friends "A-team" was not available but their "C-team" was covering the job. My reassurance was, "she isn't exactly warm and friendly and the kids don't like her much, but she wouldn't let anything happen to them." This wasn't good. I was feeling worse than before. In began to think -- why not leave Benjamin with a rehabilitated convict? Wally tried to calm me but my stomach started to hurt, and thought, this is actually a good thing because I have an excuse now not to go to the game - I was sick.
Wally talked to me about what we would say and what we would do when these girls came but he wasn't telling me not to go through with letting these "not so warm and loving" girls watch our son. I wrote a crazy lady list of things "to do" and "not to do" with Benjamin (most of the list included footnotes) and made sure that my hand writing was legible. The hour was approaching when they would arrive. What should I do? I knew I needed to be brave and trust in my instincts. If I felt that this wasn't right, then I wouldn't go.
When I met the two sitters, I didn't like the fact that the head sitter wouldn't look at me. What was she hiding? I went over the list with them several times and waited for their response. All I got was a head nod. It wasn't looking very good but I knew my dear friend would never let complete wackos watch their kids and mine (the chosen one). So they weren't warm but they are responsible and I gave them a look before I left that said, "if something happens to my only child, you better leave the country and fast." I hugged my son tight with tears in my eyes like it would be the last hug but knew I needed to be brave for him. My son's reaction was one of indifference he had his two new buddies and lots of trucks to play with. Was I the only one who thought this wrong?
Five minutes into our ride I asked to call home and then two other times as well. Wally also asked our friend to call home and each time after our friend said hello the response from the sitter was "there fine". Translation: tell the two nutty overprotective parents their son is still alive. The sitters were right, Benjamin was fine. When I came back, Benjamin was as happy as when I left him - not a scratch to be found and I checked. His diaper was a bit soaked but they swore they changed him (I didn't believe them). While I am not looking for opportunities for Benjamin to be watched by people I have only meet for five minutes, I feel I have overcome a big parenting hurdle and I am proud to come out of it a braver person.
This is an original post to New Jersey Moms Blog.
Update: This was the first and last time a "stranger" has watched Benjamin.

Nature's Calling

A few weeks ago I went on a business trip to San Francisco and in three days a new habit had formed with my son. In less than 72 hours, under the sole care of my husband, my son went from using the bathroom like a normal human being to using the great outdoors as his new toilet. I know it is very convenient to have a penis, especially, when it comes to "peeing emergencies" but really did we have to teach our son this habit?
Benjamin and I had just come into the house from playing outside in the backyard. We were just about to have a snack when he said, "Mommy I have to go potty." With that comment, he bolted out the backdoor. I ran and followed to find him in the middle of yard pants down urinating on our lawn. After he was finished, I went to find his father and ask him about this "new habit." Wally laughed it off with a "boys will be boys" attitude. I just shook my head and asked if there might be any other habits I should be made aware of that Ben learned/picked up while I was away. He couldn't think of any at the moment. I don't plan on going away anytime soon.