Finding My Parenting Groove

Yes, it's true that parents of newborn are going to have interrupted sleep for a significant period of time. It's also true that we will become insanely preoccupied with baby's needs. It's the grey areas of when and how nurture that have kept me second-guessing myself from the beginning. All the well-meaning advice and enticing books and blogs on the subject only make it harder to find my way.

The Ameri-centric information I have read and received is strongly supportive of some type of sleep training. Whether it's as strict as "crying-it-out" or as loose as a general routine, it seems that Americans are obsessed with making sense of and gaining some control over the madness. Although I'm not entirely sure where I stand, I don't feel comfortable adhering to a course of action dictated by my needs rather than Bug's (which I feel underlies many of these methods). I didn't sign up to be parent except between the hours of 7pm to 7am. This is a full-time job.

Before Bug was born, the idea of a schedule sounded great. As a teacher, I know that routines and predictability really help with classroom management and productivity. However, now that Bug is here, there is no way I am sticking to feeding and sleep at strict intervals. First, if my baby is crying, I am going to feed him whether it is at a "suitable" time or not. Second, I don't believe my own life has to end just because I had a baby. It seems very American to lock yourself inside and not leave until your baby is two years old, but plenty of other cultures just bring baby along. That doesn't mean I take Bug out partying all night, but if a coffee date falls during his nap time, I just stick him in the pram and head out. I think that keeping myself fulfilled socially helps me be a better mom. There are always exemptions; for example, I skipped a date this morning because Bug had just gone down and I didn't have the heart to wake him.

Especially since I've hired a nanny for Bug and want to make sure she knows my expectations, I've been tracking his feeds and sleeps to see if any patterns are emerging. Only recently have time and length of naps begun to stabilize, but eating patterns have been hard to identify because nursing is a bond we share for both eating and soothing. I was starting to feel like a bad mom for not putting him on a schedule sooner. I tried a few times to follow the "EASY" (eat, activity, sleep, you time) routine but deviated when Bug was hungry at the "wrong" time or I went out to run errands and messed it all up. Admittedly, this routine did help me in the very beginning when I was still learning to identify Bug's hunger and sleepy cues. I wasn't following it really, just using it to help see what he might be needing. Another mom a few months ahead of me helped put things into perspective. Was I feeding him when hungry? Was I putting him down when tired? Was he happy and well-adjusted? Yes to all. So stop worrying.

But I worry so well. If I'm not doing sleep training or a set schedule, what am I doing?

I've always had a bit of a hippy-dippy side, so attachment parenting resonates with me. Essentially, this style of parenting means that the baby is worn in a close-contact carrier for much of the day, where he can breastfeed and snooze as needed. Sounds very African to me, although it is done here out of necessity rather than to make a statement. It makes sense from an evolutionary standpoint, since humans have not changed biologically as fast as they have socially. Infants are meant to be held close and tended to around the clock. It regulates their body temperature and heart rate, and in the wilderness would have kept them safe from harm. Today it allows moms to keep working and bring their infants along (as with many Mozambican service workers or when I need to make breakfast). 

As great as it sounds, attachment parenting isn't realistic for me as I will be going back to work soon and cannot wear Bug all day. I also fear that that much codependence could backfire. I am an American after all; independence is at the core of our culture. Isolating babies in strollers and putting them in their own bedrooms at shockingly young ages is considered good parenting. I've learned that other cultures do not. So I use a stroller but face Bug towards me, and we change his diapers and play in his bedroom so it is familiar when the time does come to move him there. I think it's wonderful to "wear" him for a bit, and the nanny agrees, as it's very Mozambican to "nenecar" (literally to wear the baby in a carrier). We've decided that putting him in the "neneca" (carrier) is best in the afternoons when Bug gets fussy yet resists his nap. However, I don't want her wearing him for the whole day, and I do want him to be able to sleep in the crib. (I've spoken with moms here whose little ones have a hard time falling asleep in the crib because they are used to being carried and sleeping on their nannies all day.) It's important for babies to develop some independence. Bug actually enjoys playing alone in his crib, knowing one of us is supervising nearby. He also needs to learn to self-regulate. What is he feeling? What does he need? If I just jump to feed him every time he fusses, he won't learn to identify and eventually articulate these things.

That being said, I am quite uncomfortable with the various types of crying-it-out I've heard and read about, both because I don't believe it's good for my baby and because I could never endure the torture of of hearing him cry and not tending to him. A counter argument that makes a lot of sense to me is that when babies are left alone to cry-it-out, their cortisol levels shoot up, which makes them highly stressed and susceptible to internal physical and psychological harm. I don't care what the most popular book is calling it or saying about it, I'm not dong it. That doesn't mean I run to his crib at every fuss. I wait and listen. For example, he tends to whimper when he changes positions or loses his pacifier. Sometimes I put the pacifier back in and sometimes I don't. The books all say not to, but I make the decision on a case-by-case basis. Sometimes he fusses between sleep cycles but quickly falls back to sleep. Other times his nappy is wet, he is hungry, or he feels lonely and wants to be picked up. Those times, I go to him. He needs to know that I will be there for him. It isn't always clear when I should sooth or let him work it out. For example, he recently began rolling over and fusses when he startles himself or gets his arm stuck underneath. Do I help him so he settles back to sleep quickly, or do I wait so he can learn how to fix the problem himself? 

As with everything else, it's about balance. And intuition.

There is an underlying anxiety that if I don't do certain things my baby will...I don't know...not grow up healthy and happy? But those certain things are abundant and conflicting. I'm glad to have read so many books and blogs since I initially had no clue what I was doing. Science is always interesting -- and always changing. So it's good to consider but is not the green light for every choice. Sometimes I need to step away from the computer, put down the book, and just be with my kid. When I stop and listen to him, and to my instincts, I know we are doing just fine. 

Mixed Feelings

Today is the first day of school...for Brian. I am still on maternity leave. I have gone to work, bringing Bug, a few times in the past week to help set up my classroom and meet with the substitute and my teaching assistant for planning. I even went yesterday for the new student orientation. But today I stay home.

A bit of adult interaction each day has been fantastic; I've needed it. But honestly, if I didn't have to work, I don't think I would go back. At least not until Bug and his future siblings were school-aged. Don't get me wrong, I do love my job. It is incredibly fulfilling. The students are little bundles of love and wonder, and I am always challenged to grow professionally. However, my priorities have completely shifted. Quiet snuggly mornings, silly playtime and intimate nursing are what I live for right now.

In reality, I will have to return to work in a very short five weeks. Both of us working affords our spacious apartment in the center of the city and all our amazing travels. Neither of which I am willing to give up. And I will probably need a life that entails more than wearing pjs all day, changing diapers every two hours and babbling in gibberish. So in preparation for that big event, we have hired a nanny. Yesterday was her first day. Before I had children, I thought I would be a laid back parent. Now, the thought of leaving Bug with someone who isn't family is terrifying. I know it is necessary, for many reasons, but I need a little more time. So we've brought the nanny on half time until I return to work. This allows all of us to get to know one another, and for me to model Bug's daily care and watch her with him.

Did my heart ache as I watched her rock my baby to sleep? Absolutely. Did Bug take to her gentle and caring ways immediately? Yup. I wouldn't have hired her if he didn't. So this is just going to be a process. He is in good hands, and I need to have a life outside my baby. Am I looking forward to leaving him on my first day of work? Heck no.

Fast Forward

Welcome table at our stateside reception

Yoo hoo. It's me again! Two years down the road, Brian and I had a fabulous wedding fiesta in December 2013 and a stateside celebration in July 2014. We've been nesting in Maputo since August 2013. Lots of African adventures under our belt -- to name a few: camping in Kruger, wild animal encounters, daily off-roading in our 4x4, rustic beach getaways, moving out of the burbs and into the city...and HAVING A BABY!

Ellies at Kruger Park.

Yes, Brian and I are officially parents. Our little guy, nicknamed Bug, was born in May 2015. After lots of wishy-washing we decided to deliver him here in Mozambique rather than crossing the border and dealing with passport and visa bureaucracies at embassies in South Africa. Many expats said we were "brave" (polite for "crazy"?), but really I felt safe and any negative aspects of the experience were not surprises. Oh, except for the cesarian after 16 hours of unmedicated natural labor. Or Bug's overnight NICU stay for oxygen and antibiotics. But those things could have happened anywhere, and it's all in the past now. I'm mending. Bug is healthy and happy. Brian is, as always, our calm eye in any storm.

Maputo cityscape

Life is not only good...it's amazing. I'm so happy that I'm actually afraid to admit it. So I've uncovered my Achilles heel -- not feeling worthy of such happiness. Thanks to Brian, I've already tackled the hurdle of not feeling worthy enough for genuine love and am working on uncovering my authentic self. As if having a baby wasn't enough of a growth experience (literally and spiritually!), now I'm signing up for a little more self-love bootcamp. Parenting and self-improvement...this could be an interesting combo!

Moving Forward

In order to get a grasp on my new life, I set some short term goals: setting up my classroom, moving to my new place, finally unpacking my bags, attending yoga classes, and socializing with new friends. 

Well, I accomplished all my goals and then some.

My classroom is organized and decorated.  I also set a schedule and finally began working with students.  Connecting with the kids energizes me, and they are the reason I love my job! If I can love my job, then the rest should fall into place, right?  Although my role as an ESL specialist is still undergoing revision, I am now finding more opportunities to contribute my expertise and feel validated professionally.  School is thankfully on an upswing.

The new flat feels good and meets my needs for now.  I have finally unpacked my suitcases, organized my things, and established daily routines.  Although a bit lacking in windows (I have one), the space is quiet and provides a needed respite from the chaos outside.  I am calling it "cocoon-y."  If I can't control the big things in my life, at least I can create a bit of normalcy and feel safe in my little home.

After a long hiatus, I have come back to yoga.  This is significant on many levels.  Physically, I am rebuilding muscles and flexibility.  Mentally, I am focused on caring for my body inside and out.  Emotionally, I am acknowledging the correlations among poses, feelings they release, and challenges they symbolize in life.  Spiritually, my heart is open and connected to a higher power. And socially, I am spending time with supportive and likeminded people.

The greatest gift of living abroad is the friendships that are built in the absence of family.  Amazingly, I have already found caring, generous and well-grounded people with whom to share my life.  I am slowly filling the empty spaces caused by leaving behind people and places.  However, filling is not replacing, and those people are truly cherished and places deeply missed.  It just means that my heart is a little bigger and the world a little smaller.

The homesickness, the urge to go back to Jordan, and the shock of, “What in the world have I just done with my life?” all come and go in waves. The inverses are moments of amazement that this is truly my life, the thought that I must move forward and never backward, and that my experience in Vietnam is a journey with an end that I cannot anticipate (and will be a better person for regardless of the outcome).

An All-Girls School in Amman

My students are called Dina, Sarah, Zein and Nour. They are beautiful girls with full chestnut curls and large almond eyes. Most are Jordanian, although within this majority, many identify as Palestinian. Although born and raised in Jordan, the Palestinian-Jordanians must carry different passports than those with Jordanian bloodlines. Those recently from Palestine are generally refugees from the Gaza bombardment. Those not from Palestine are Iraqi refugees, although several students are from Iran and Sri Lanka. All have seen oppression, violence and discrimination in ways that most Americans of our generations have not and hopefully will never know. They write about relating to Anne Frank because they also hid in basements during bombings. They ask me why Americans hate them so much. And yet they also know each word to every Miley Cyrus and Taylor Swift song.

They call me "Miss," and whine it as, "Miiiiiiisssssss," whenever I assign homework or administer an exam. They love to chat with me and with each other and cannot make themselves stop even when they know they should. It drives me crazy, but on the scale of classroom management issues, I can hardly complain. They stay seated (usually), do their work (usually), and never challenge me in threatening or shocking ways. They are much more disciplined about academics than their counterparts in the U.S. Most girls study their English lessons after school every day and come with questions the next. They check well in advance about topics that might be on exams and they often turn in work early. Moreover, they bring unassigned presentations to class and beg to present to their peers. Considering that I must cram in an astonishing amount of curriculum and test the girls monthly, I sadly don't often have much time to let them.

We are coming to the end of the year and they will be moving across campus to the secondary building next year. They are growing so fast physically and emotionally. They look like little women now and not like overgrown kids, and their writings show that they have a lot on their minds. At the beginning of the year, they were terrified to write, but now they proudly present me with poems and essays that they have written in their free time. I'm flattered that they trust me with their thoughts and feelings. I remember the traumas of being twelve years old and in the sixth grade and I thank God that these girls are in such a nurturing and protected environment.

They wear ugly uniforms, are not allowed to wear make-up and must tie back their long hair into plain ponytails. Dating is so far into the realm of "absolutely not" that they focus on the normal friendship dramas of their age and willingly participate in their frequent family gatherings. They beg me to be helpers as I set up the classroom or carry stacks of books to the teachers' lounge. And they are so generous with hugs. I love that I can pat them on their heads or wipe their tears without fear of repercussion, where in the U.S. teachers literally cannot touch the children for fear of a lawsuit. Here, the parents really do respect and trust us as teachers. We communicate freely and never critically. They know we love their girls and will do everything possible to keep them safe, educate them and help them grow into the strong women that surround us at our school as administrators, teachers, and teenage students.

Desert Gardens

Two days ago, Anne and I spent the morning watching movies and snacking on hummos, falafel, and taboon bread--which is basically a giant, extra thin pita that is bought piping hot from the local baker, who folds it several times into a big pile of carbohydrate yumminess. We had left her front door open to catch a breeze; however, the local children interpreted this as an invitation to enter when we were only halfway through Kite Runner. Unable to resist their eagerness, we let them pull us into daylight for play. Deciding that a "sprucing up" of Anne's garden was in order, we dressed the children in old t-shirts, distributed shovels, and started digging. Unfortunately, I had to leave in midst of mudpie-making and mystery plantings, but Anne reported later that the children were so helpful that they cleaned the courtyard afterward, swept her floors, AND did her dishes! Not only are they adorable, but incredibly helpful :-)



What was actually planted and whether it will really grow remains to be seen....

On a slightly similar note (not really), the next day, we took a trek out to the fruit and veggie souq (market) in the outskirts of Amman. I was skeptical when the taxi dropped us at a dillapidated warehouse alongside a dusty, industrial highway. However, upon entering, my senses were flooded with heaps of vibrant, aromatic produce and cheerful chatter of daily goings-on. Vendors smiled when I pointed questioningly to miniature purple plums or ample nectarines the color of sunsets, and reached into secret stashes to reveal their most succulent offerings. Exercising restraint, I only bought a handful of plums, four nectarines, and a bushel of arugula....for a grand total of about $3USD.

And my kitchen now smells scrumptious!