1. Blogging. Turns out blogging while thinking about and planning for adoption is much easier than blogging after Rosie has moved in. By the time Rosie gets to bed at 8 on weeknights or 8:30 on weekends, it's all I can do to keep my eyes pried open to watch a DVRd sitcom.
I should create another blog entitled: words I'm eating. It would include a sentiment about thinking we should see if her bedtimes are too early.
2. Make-up. For those of you who work with me, you might have noticed that my clothing is becoming a little more basic, and my make-up is pretty much never on. After a morning of getting Rosie dressed, fed, hair done, underarm deodorant on and teeth brushed finding any energy for myself feels impossible.
3. Work after hours. I actually have a new-found appreciation for work at work. I know what I'm doing at work. Then when I get home, all certainty has flown out the window. Trying to pick-up work after helping Mike get Rosie's homework done, getting Rosie dinner and showered feels like trying to pick up a boulder.
4. Get in a 5th workout of the week. I get up at 4 a.m. three days per week to sneak in three hours of workouts. I am able to sneak in a 4th workout from time to time, but the 5th workout I loathed in my past life is now something I look back on with a touch of sadness. You always want what you can't have, perhaps?
Yes, life has changed, completely and practically instantly. The new routines are starting to feel more real. Yesterday Rosie walked in the house and said, "This is really starting to feel like my family." I couldn't agree more, and the things I've lost time and energy to do now will come back--I'm sure of it. Yet reassurance from another parent would be appreciated.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Oh how the tables have turned
I thought sitting in a parent/teacher conference as a kid was nerve-wracking. Turns out as a kid, I could control those meetings. As a parent, though, you're not in control at all.
Of course, the conference went really well. Rosie is in a good school with a lot of people who want to support her. When her less attractive behaviors were brought into question I found myself trying to help them understand what Rosie's been through.
As I heard myself and looked at the exhausted expression on Rosie's teacher's face, I realized I had become the parent who makes excuses for their kid. So I quickly stopped and added, "I want Rosie to be held accountable for her actions and have fair consequences. Yet, I also want to make sure she learns from her behaviors."
That seemed to make the teacher happy. I think. Although, I still worry she thinks I'm the mom who thinks my kid can do no wrong, which is ironic because Rosie is constantly worried about what others think. Will worrying ever end?
Of course, the conference went really well. Rosie is in a good school with a lot of people who want to support her. When her less attractive behaviors were brought into question I found myself trying to help them understand what Rosie's been through.
As I heard myself and looked at the exhausted expression on Rosie's teacher's face, I realized I had become the parent who makes excuses for their kid. So I quickly stopped and added, "I want Rosie to be held accountable for her actions and have fair consequences. Yet, I also want to make sure she learns from her behaviors."
That seemed to make the teacher happy. I think. Although, I still worry she thinks I'm the mom who thinks my kid can do no wrong, which is ironic because Rosie is constantly worried about what others think. Will worrying ever end?
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Rosie's a bit of a rock star
I think one of the most wonderful things Rosie's had in the past two weeks is the constant stream of family and friends lining up to meet her.
Imagine going from living in 11 places in 3 years and feeling like no one would ever want you to suddenly being a little rock star in what must feel like an alternate universe.
That's Rosie, and this week she meet my sister, Autumn, and Colin and Krista, Mike's brother and sister-in-law.
Rosie also got to meet my friend, Heather, but I haven't been forcing Rosie to pose for photos with friends. This is the downside of starting with a 10-year-old. When you have a baby, it is pretty oblivious to the zillions of photos you want to take of its every move. (Well, I assume the infant doesn't care.) A 10-year-old, however, does.
This is the type of photo you get when you force a 10-year-old to pose one too many times.
Imagine going from living in 11 places in 3 years and feeling like no one would ever want you to suddenly being a little rock star in what must feel like an alternate universe.
That's Rosie, and this week she meet my sister, Autumn, and Colin and Krista, Mike's brother and sister-in-law.
This is the type of photo you get when you force a 10-year-old to pose one too many times.
How's it going?
Many people want to know how things are going. Sometimes when I'm asked, I struggle for a response. Yet, when I emailed one of my friends about it, I think I finally nailed it on the head.
"Things are going well. We've had ups and downs. I've been pushed to the edge of my limits and have felt my heart swell with love and pride--all in the same day. In the first week there were at least two ocassions where I went to bed sick with worry wondering what we'd gotten ourselves into, and if we could get the heck out of it.
But when all is said and done, it's been everything I imagined parenthood would be--good and bad. I think we are finally starting to gel into a routine. Rosie's anxiety levels seems to reducing."
To this note I would add, my anxiety levels are also beginning to drop as the new normal sets in.
"Things are going well. We've had ups and downs. I've been pushed to the edge of my limits and have felt my heart swell with love and pride--all in the same day. In the first week there were at least two ocassions where I went to bed sick with worry wondering what we'd gotten ourselves into, and if we could get the heck out of it.
But when all is said and done, it's been everything I imagined parenthood would be--good and bad. I think we are finally starting to gel into a routine. Rosie's anxiety levels seems to reducing."
To this note I would add, my anxiety levels are also beginning to drop as the new normal sets in.
Friday, February 18, 2011
What's in a name?
Too bad Michael has so many letters or he'd probably have one, too. Rosie, for whatever reason, prefers Michael instead of Mike.
She is starting to call us Mommy and Daddy a little more. Not that it really matters. If she keeps calling me Amy, maybe I will be able to fool people into believing I'm 25 and she's my little sis. ;-)
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Valentine's Day
This year, we spent Valentine's Day taking Rosie to the gym. I had a class while Mike and Rosie swam. You might have read Mike's post following some of Rosie's questions about men's locker rooms. Don't worry, Rosie was of course with me.
After the gym we went to McDonald's. Not romantic, but I couldn't have imagined another place to be, and I didn't care at all that I wasn't wearing a dress.
After the gym we went to McDonald's. Not romantic, but I couldn't have imagined another place to be, and I didn't care at all that I wasn't wearing a dress.
Oh, the things she'll ask about...
Rosie joined the gym last night! She is now a junior member at LTF. Rosie and I did a little swimming. Well, Rosie did a little swimming and I stood around in the pool. She and I played a shark/minnow game where the shark person has to find and touch the minnow person while having their eyes closed (not too hard considering I have the arm span that can reach the whole width of the lane we were limited to, but I didn't press that advantage). I think that will be a great game with cousin Abby this summer! She certainly seemed to enjoy herself.
The end of the outing was probably the most amusing though. While walking to the car, Rosie asked me an interesting question (I'll probably mis-quote it a little, but you'll get the idea): "So, in the men's locker room, are there penises everywhere?" I was a bit shocked and couldn't stifle a chuckle, but after explaining that the men's locker room doesn't have stalls in the showers like the women's, she drew the logical conclusion, gave me a very disgusted look, and exclaimed that it there were indeed "penises everywhere!" She also commented on a rather surprising moment earlier in the women's locker room where one woman apparently was not terribly discreet and was walking around with a towel around her, but not covering her top!
I better work on controlling my reaction to such interesting questions! I foresee many more interesting ones on the way.
The end of the outing was probably the most amusing though. While walking to the car, Rosie asked me an interesting question (I'll probably mis-quote it a little, but you'll get the idea): "So, in the men's locker room, are there penises everywhere?" I was a bit shocked and couldn't stifle a chuckle, but after explaining that the men's locker room doesn't have stalls in the showers like the women's, she drew the logical conclusion, gave me a very disgusted look, and exclaimed that it there were indeed "penises everywhere!" She also commented on a rather surprising moment earlier in the women's locker room where one woman apparently was not terribly discreet and was walking around with a towel around her, but not covering her top!
I better work on controlling my reaction to such interesting questions! I foresee many more interesting ones on the way.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Our Girl Looks Fabulous in Everything
It's pretty clear I'm going to have to take vacations to print photos of Rosie and get them into photo albums.
Here's Rosie meeting my Aunt Debbie. The pink hat and scarf were made by Grandma Vicki. The dog is my Aunt's, and his name is Scooter.
Here's Rosie meeting my Aunt Debbie. The pink hat and scarf were made by Grandma Vicki. The dog is my Aunt's, and his name is Scooter.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
You mess with the bull...
On Tuesday, Rosie got home from school. Per suggestions from our therapist, we told her she could have 30 minutes of free time. She decided to play the wii.
When it was time to turn the wii off she first ignored us. On the second request, she started to argue that it hadn't been 30 minutes. On the third request, she continued to argue that it hadn't been 30 minutes.
Parent lesson of the day: Use a timer always.
The rule in the house is 3 strikes and you lose a privilege. So at the second request, I told her if she doesn't stop playing, she will lose gaming privileges through Wednesday. So when we hit the third request, she lost them. "I don't care" she said as she stormed out of the room.
Then we started homework. Mid-way through she asked if she could play her DS after homework was done. I calmly said, no, that she'd lost her privileges. "That didn't include my DS. That's MINE." Well, gaming includes the DS, I said. "THAT'S NOT FAIR" she yelled as she stormed away from the table and into her room.
Then, two minutes later she stormed back out, yelled, "THE DS IS MINE, YOU CAN'T TAKE IT" as she grabbed her DS from the coffee table and marched back into her room, slamming the door theatrically behind her.
How I managed to keep my voice at steady level is beyond me, but at this point I turned into the principal from The Breakfast Club.
I followed her into the room and said, "you've lost the DS for one week." If you give it to me now, that's it.
"Life isn't fair" she said. "I think kids and adults should be equals. They're not, they're like black and white people, and kids are like the black people. When I grow up, I am going to be the President and make them equal."
I had to hide a chuckle here and said, "I'd be very proud if you became President." I held my hand out and asked for the DS or she'd get another week.
"I don't care" she said, hiding the DS under her. OK, I said, that's TWO weeks.
"I don't care she said."
You want to make it three weeks?" I asked.
"I don't care," she repeated. "Fine, I said, four weeks. Do you want to keep going?"
"I DON'T CARE."
"Fine, you've lost it indefinitely."
Mike, who was just watching said, well, let's go make dinner, Amy. Thank you Mike for pulling me away. How I got so sucked in was beyond me. How I ended up sounding like the principal also bewildered me.
In about 5 minutes, I brought her a glass of water with her evening meds, and she handed me the DS without asking. I was relieved she did. If she hadn't, I wasn't sure what we'd do the rest of the night.
Then we tried to make the rest of the night positive. We focused on the stickers she'd earned for being asked to do things once. We read a chapter of Matilda. She still wasn't thrilled with us, but she clearly wasn't permanently damaged.
Meanwhile, I went to bed pretty shaken. I knew it couldn't happen, but I had hoped she'd just fold right into our house and we'd be one perfect family. I had a hard time sleeping and I started to question what we'd done. So Wednesday, Mike watched Rosie at night and I went for a workout. Nothing like a few endorphins to push away the evil principal. By Thursday I began to feel a little more positive. Friday was wonderful.
Update: After considering things, Mike and reduced the penalty to 2 weeks, and told her if she got dressed for school within 5 minutes this week, she'd get it back 3 days sooner.
When it was time to turn the wii off she first ignored us. On the second request, she started to argue that it hadn't been 30 minutes. On the third request, she continued to argue that it hadn't been 30 minutes.
Parent lesson of the day: Use a timer always.
The rule in the house is 3 strikes and you lose a privilege. So at the second request, I told her if she doesn't stop playing, she will lose gaming privileges through Wednesday. So when we hit the third request, she lost them. "I don't care" she said as she stormed out of the room.
Then we started homework. Mid-way through she asked if she could play her DS after homework was done. I calmly said, no, that she'd lost her privileges. "That didn't include my DS. That's MINE." Well, gaming includes the DS, I said. "THAT'S NOT FAIR" she yelled as she stormed away from the table and into her room.
Then, two minutes later she stormed back out, yelled, "THE DS IS MINE, YOU CAN'T TAKE IT" as she grabbed her DS from the coffee table and marched back into her room, slamming the door theatrically behind her.
How I managed to keep my voice at steady level is beyond me, but at this point I turned into the principal from The Breakfast Club.
"Life isn't fair" she said. "I think kids and adults should be equals. They're not, they're like black and white people, and kids are like the black people. When I grow up, I am going to be the President and make them equal."
I had to hide a chuckle here and said, "I'd be very proud if you became President." I held my hand out and asked for the DS or she'd get another week.
"I don't care" she said, hiding the DS under her. OK, I said, that's TWO weeks.
"I don't care she said."
You want to make it three weeks?" I asked.
"I don't care," she repeated. "Fine, I said, four weeks. Do you want to keep going?"
"I DON'T CARE."
"Fine, you've lost it indefinitely."
Mike, who was just watching said, well, let's go make dinner, Amy. Thank you Mike for pulling me away. How I got so sucked in was beyond me. How I ended up sounding like the principal also bewildered me.
In about 5 minutes, I brought her a glass of water with her evening meds, and she handed me the DS without asking. I was relieved she did. If she hadn't, I wasn't sure what we'd do the rest of the night.
Then we tried to make the rest of the night positive. We focused on the stickers she'd earned for being asked to do things once. We read a chapter of Matilda. She still wasn't thrilled with us, but she clearly wasn't permanently damaged.
Meanwhile, I went to bed pretty shaken. I knew it couldn't happen, but I had hoped she'd just fold right into our house and we'd be one perfect family. I had a hard time sleeping and I started to question what we'd done. So Wednesday, Mike watched Rosie at night and I went for a workout. Nothing like a few endorphins to push away the evil principal. By Thursday I began to feel a little more positive. Friday was wonderful.
Update: After considering things, Mike and reduced the penalty to 2 weeks, and told her if she got dressed for school within 5 minutes this week, she'd get it back 3 days sooner.
A few more photos
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| Rosie sledding with the Kowski/Goettsches |
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| Rosie holding Elliot at the Superbowl Party |
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| Rosie playing Vanna White on the first day of school |
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| Moxie on the first day of school |
What a week it's been
The past week has truly been like riding a roller coaster you've never seen blindfolded. School is a great example.
Tuesday, the first day of school went well for Rosie. She said the school was AWESOME!!! Yet, her attitude was pretty negative, and as a result, she ended up losing her gaming privileges for a day and DS privileges for two weeks. More about that story later...as it resulted in me sounding eerily like the principal from The Breakfast Club.
Wednesday, Rosie didn't have a lot to say about school. When we ask, she flatly refuses to say anything about it or just says, "Don't worry."
Thursday morning, the first day both Mike and I returned to work, Rosie pretended to throw-up so she wouldn't have to go to school. The car ride was filled with negativity from Rosie, and when I pointed out her bad mood she said, "Well of course I am, I just threw up and you're making me go to school." I have learned to not try to argue with her, so I was quiet. Finally she said, "Well, who would take care of me if I was sick?" A-ha, I thought, so part of this is the fear of having two working parents. I reassured her that it's our job and one of us would be there in a second.
After I dropped her off, I immediately called the school to let them know she really didn't throw up that morning worried she'd tell them that and they'd call me asking why I let a puking child come to school. I also started to worry that something wasn't going well making her want to stay home.
Friday morning, over breakfast, she admitted that one girl had said other kids called her mean. I asked her if she'd talked to Lisa, her social worker about that. She said no. I suggested she try and asked if she also wanted me to call Lisa. She did.
So I tried to keep breakfast and the morning rush as upbeat as possible. We got in the car, though, and her mood changed from happy to angry. So I tuned in some music I know she'd like and we sang all the way to school. She was happy as she got out of the car.
So in just four days we had a so many ups and downs I lost track.
Tuesday, the first day of school went well for Rosie. She said the school was AWESOME!!! Yet, her attitude was pretty negative, and as a result, she ended up losing her gaming privileges for a day and DS privileges for two weeks. More about that story later...as it resulted in me sounding eerily like the principal from The Breakfast Club.
Wednesday, Rosie didn't have a lot to say about school. When we ask, she flatly refuses to say anything about it or just says, "Don't worry."
Thursday morning, the first day both Mike and I returned to work, Rosie pretended to throw-up so she wouldn't have to go to school. The car ride was filled with negativity from Rosie, and when I pointed out her bad mood she said, "Well of course I am, I just threw up and you're making me go to school." I have learned to not try to argue with her, so I was quiet. Finally she said, "Well, who would take care of me if I was sick?" A-ha, I thought, so part of this is the fear of having two working parents. I reassured her that it's our job and one of us would be there in a second.
After I dropped her off, I immediately called the school to let them know she really didn't throw up that morning worried she'd tell them that and they'd call me asking why I let a puking child come to school. I also started to worry that something wasn't going well making her want to stay home.
Friday morning, over breakfast, she admitted that one girl had said other kids called her mean. I asked her if she'd talked to Lisa, her social worker about that. She said no. I suggested she try and asked if she also wanted me to call Lisa. She did.
So I tried to keep breakfast and the morning rush as upbeat as possible. We got in the car, though, and her mood changed from happy to angry. So I tuned in some music I know she'd like and we sang all the way to school. She was happy as she got out of the car.
So in just four days we had a so many ups and downs I lost track.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Rosie's First Day of School
Rosie started school today. I have cookies baking so I have to keep this short, but here she is:
And all of us!
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Country Mouse Moves to the City
In the past few weeks, Rosie has had a few culture shock moments.
- Tattoos! The stylists have lots of them at my salon. Rosie seemed even more shocked to learn her new mom has seven tattoos. Although, she thought it was pretty cool mom wanted to get a tattoo to symbolize her. After a little bit of thinking, she said, "A heart on your collar bone." Maybe we'll wait to let her pick her symbol until she's a bit older.
- Piercings. 'Nuff said.
- Airplanes. This has probably been the most shocking culture shock moment. A plane was flying overhead last night and hidden by clouds. Rosie said, "what's that noise?" I told her it was a plane, but she looked up at the sky in disbelief since it couldn't be seen.
- Alleys. Today we met some friends to go sledding, and they were getting their car out of the garage, and driving it out of the alley to the street. Rosie couldn't fathom where their car was or where they'd went. I guess we need to show her her own back yard.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
The Parent Trap
Tonight I was in the kichen when Rosie came in and asked for a glass of plain milk before bed.
Sure, I said. After all, she'd gotten into a chocolate milk habit with us I had begun to worry was another reflection of poor parental decision making. This was a request for plain milk.
Then Mike appeared who explained he had told Rosie just seconds before she could have water, not milk.
Oh, I said, in that case, you can have water, Rosie. Like Mike said. (Don't worry. Rosie had a glass of chocolate milk only 5 minutes before and wasn't starving or in dire need of calcium.)
She took her water and was momentarily upset with us both upon realizing we couldn't be played against one another. I've learned when we have to say no, or offer a consequence, it's best to not dwell on it because she does. So, water in hand we all went to her room, where we read her another chapter of Matilda and Rosie went to sleep feeling ok.
I also realized how smart our daughter is. Not only did she seek out a second opinion, but she played me well with the plain milk instead of chocolate milk.
After she went to bed, Mike and I both laughed about it and have docked another lesson away: avoid the trap. No matter how simple the request, make sure the other parent is in agreement.
Sure, I said. After all, she'd gotten into a chocolate milk habit with us I had begun to worry was another reflection of poor parental decision making. This was a request for plain milk.
Then Mike appeared who explained he had told Rosie just seconds before she could have water, not milk.
Oh, I said, in that case, you can have water, Rosie. Like Mike said. (Don't worry. Rosie had a glass of chocolate milk only 5 minutes before and wasn't starving or in dire need of calcium.)
She took her water and was momentarily upset with us both upon realizing we couldn't be played against one another. I've learned when we have to say no, or offer a consequence, it's best to not dwell on it because she does. So, water in hand we all went to her room, where we read her another chapter of Matilda and Rosie went to sleep feeling ok.
I also realized how smart our daughter is. Not only did she seek out a second opinion, but she played me well with the plain milk instead of chocolate milk.
After she went to bed, Mike and I both laughed about it and have docked another lesson away: avoid the trap. No matter how simple the request, make sure the other parent is in agreement.
Our family is complete
Rosie playing her DS on the way home on move-in day. Today really is the start of a whole new phase of life for all of us.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Room Follow-Up
So many people have expressed concern, sympathy or dismay in regard to the color of Rosie's room, I thought I would post an update.
Her door complete with a self-made sign:
Her door complete with a self-made sign:
The end result...which is actually a pretty warm color of pink.
With her new, purple rug--yes it's girly.
February 5th - The Move In Day!
February 5th, Rosie moves in. Yay!!!
Today we secured her placement in Marcy Elementary, and we're working on all the other details for her arrival. Of course, this past month has continued pour. Just when I think I've set out enough buckets to manage all the rain, the sky opens up again. Except, the more overwhelmed I feel, even the slightest mist can start to feel like a flood.
Today, for example, I was heading to work after having to stay home yesterday because of an upset stomach, chills and hot flashes. Yuck. On the way into work my car got stuck. Then, on 94, this little wrench indicator light in my dashboard turned on and the car decelerated. So I pulled off and called Mike in panic. He didn't answer. Then I called the Ford dealership and felt frustrated beyond belief when the mechanic said to just shut down my car and re-start it.
I did, and sure enough the light went away. So I got back on 94 and not more than 5 miles down the road it happened again. I've been stranded on the freeway before. It's no fun. So I got off the freeway and called the garage again. They told me the same thing as the first call and said I probably just had snow stuck near some sort of indicator thing. I should take side roads to work though, just in case.
I think the mechanic could hear the panic in my voice because on the second call he used a very soothing voice tried to help me reason: "well you could drive it in, but isn't that double the distance to your office?" "yea," I said pretty uncertainly. My lack of confidence followed me down Snelling and into my parking ramp where I prayed that my car would start at the end of the day.
The car did start, and my overwhelmed feeling started to fade. However, I am certain uncertainity and feeling overwhelmed are just par for the course for some time to come.
In the mean time, here are some photos from the past weekend to help me focus on the positive, end goal.
Rosie's First Time as a 5K Supporter
Rosie Meets Her Aunt Paula and Uncle Brian and Sees Snow Sculptures for the First Time
Rosie meets her Cousin Abby, Aunt Brenda and Uncle Al
Today we secured her placement in Marcy Elementary, and we're working on all the other details for her arrival. Of course, this past month has continued pour. Just when I think I've set out enough buckets to manage all the rain, the sky opens up again. Except, the more overwhelmed I feel, even the slightest mist can start to feel like a flood.
Today, for example, I was heading to work after having to stay home yesterday because of an upset stomach, chills and hot flashes. Yuck. On the way into work my car got stuck. Then, on 94, this little wrench indicator light in my dashboard turned on and the car decelerated. So I pulled off and called Mike in panic. He didn't answer. Then I called the Ford dealership and felt frustrated beyond belief when the mechanic said to just shut down my car and re-start it.
I did, and sure enough the light went away. So I got back on 94 and not more than 5 miles down the road it happened again. I've been stranded on the freeway before. It's no fun. So I got off the freeway and called the garage again. They told me the same thing as the first call and said I probably just had snow stuck near some sort of indicator thing. I should take side roads to work though, just in case.
I think the mechanic could hear the panic in my voice because on the second call he used a very soothing voice tried to help me reason: "well you could drive it in, but isn't that double the distance to your office?" "yea," I said pretty uncertainly. My lack of confidence followed me down Snelling and into my parking ramp where I prayed that my car would start at the end of the day.
The car did start, and my overwhelmed feeling started to fade. However, I am certain uncertainity and feeling overwhelmed are just par for the course for some time to come.
In the mean time, here are some photos from the past weekend to help me focus on the positive, end goal.
Rosie's First Time as a 5K Supporter
Bunny Ears!
Not so happy to be up that early.
Still not thrilled bout being up so early.
Rosie Meets Her Aunt Paula and Uncle Brian and Sees Snow Sculptures for the First Time
The St. Paul Winter Carnival's Snow Maze.
Mike enjoying following Rosie through the maze
Uncle Brian and Aunt Paula were joined us despite the cold when the conservatory was way to full.
(thank you!)
Rosie meets her Cousin Abby, Aunt Brenda and Uncle Al
Rosie Dancing!
Goofy cousins
Rosie and her Aunt Brenda, Cousin Abby and Uncle Al
I said what?
There have been two times I have heard myself uttering words I swore I never would.
First, I have tried to use guilt to get Rosie to Eat.
Sunday we were having pizza and salad with Rosie's Uncle Al, Aunt Brenda and Cousin Abby. It was the first meeting, and it had gone pretty well. Rosie poured a huge amount of dressing on hers and started to toss it when she asked why she had water. When soda was brought up, I said that Rosie doesn't like or drink much soda. She gave me a look that I could tell meant she didn't appreciate my mothering.
After that, she lost interest in her salad. As I ate I tried to not focus on how Rosie wasn't eating, but it was kind of like a neon light at the edge of the table. I couldn't ignore it. Even though I know my family members weren't judging me, I felt this odd pressure to make sure Rosie ate. Not only because she should but otherwise, that neon light would flash an arrow my way and somehow reflect on me as her mom.
So I said, "Rosie, aren't you hungry?" Not really, she replied poking at some of her salad. Then I uttered something I was sure I would never say, are you ready for this? It's horrible. It's like for a second I become my grandma:
I said: "Well, you should try to eat some of it, Brenda worked hard on that salad."
Yes, I, without thinking about it, used guilt to attempt to get Rosie to eat. As soon as I said it, I wanted to suck the words back. I couldn't though, and I wasn't sure if she saw how shaken I was by this guilty tactic that came out of my subconscious. It was hard wired in me by years of living with a mom and grandma who employed it handily.
I explained this to my mom who laughed and said, "You're a mom! A mom feels guilty about guilt-tripping." She then went on to explain how worried I seem to look now, which is how moms are. Moms are hyper about everything, she explained, while dads are more laid back. She thought my look of concern as a good sign. I don't know about that. Especially if I will resort to tricks I swore I'd never use this early into parenthood.
Second, I used the word calorie when explaining why Rosie couldn't have an entire chocolate chip cake at KFC. As in "you can't have that because of all the calories in it." This bums me out because I don't want to raise a daughter who is hung up on weight and calorie counting--at least not because of me. Next time, I'll say, "because that's not healthy."
First, I have tried to use guilt to get Rosie to Eat.
Sunday we were having pizza and salad with Rosie's Uncle Al, Aunt Brenda and Cousin Abby. It was the first meeting, and it had gone pretty well. Rosie poured a huge amount of dressing on hers and started to toss it when she asked why she had water. When soda was brought up, I said that Rosie doesn't like or drink much soda. She gave me a look that I could tell meant she didn't appreciate my mothering.
After that, she lost interest in her salad. As I ate I tried to not focus on how Rosie wasn't eating, but it was kind of like a neon light at the edge of the table. I couldn't ignore it. Even though I know my family members weren't judging me, I felt this odd pressure to make sure Rosie ate. Not only because she should but otherwise, that neon light would flash an arrow my way and somehow reflect on me as her mom.
So I said, "Rosie, aren't you hungry?" Not really, she replied poking at some of her salad. Then I uttered something I was sure I would never say, are you ready for this? It's horrible. It's like for a second I become my grandma:
I said: "Well, you should try to eat some of it, Brenda worked hard on that salad."
Yes, I, without thinking about it, used guilt to attempt to get Rosie to eat. As soon as I said it, I wanted to suck the words back. I couldn't though, and I wasn't sure if she saw how shaken I was by this guilty tactic that came out of my subconscious. It was hard wired in me by years of living with a mom and grandma who employed it handily.
I explained this to my mom who laughed and said, "You're a mom! A mom feels guilty about guilt-tripping." She then went on to explain how worried I seem to look now, which is how moms are. Moms are hyper about everything, she explained, while dads are more laid back. She thought my look of concern as a good sign. I don't know about that. Especially if I will resort to tricks I swore I'd never use this early into parenthood.
Second, I used the word calorie when explaining why Rosie couldn't have an entire chocolate chip cake at KFC. As in "you can't have that because of all the calories in it." This bums me out because I don't want to raise a daughter who is hung up on weight and calorie counting--at least not because of me. Next time, I'll say, "because that's not healthy."
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