parenting

Walt Disney World Week: What I Learned About Visiting with Babies and Toddlers

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / 4 Comments

Walt Disney World is a whole different vacation spot when you’re traveling with a small child. You start being worried less about what rides have the longest lines and more about where you can change the baby. You learn all of the resources Disney has to offer that we never needed as adult-only visitors. So even though Chris is a Disney Expert due to his family’s many trips there, we learned a lot on this trip:

1) The awesomeness of Disney’s Baby Care Centers.
I had never even heard of these until I started seeking out advice about visiting Disney with a baby. There’s one in each park, all fairly tucked-away and not that advertised. We mainly used them to change Sprout, and for that alone they were worth seeking out. They had the largest, most luxurious changing tables I’ve ever seen. While we didn’t need them, they also had private rooms for nursing mothers (a godsend in the heat), and baby supply stores selling diapers, wipes, formula, bibs and baby food.

2) That the Harmony Barber Shop on Main Street in the Magic Kingdom is the best value in all of Walt Disney World.
Yes, the Magic Kingdom has a working barber shop! I thought it would be super adorable for Sprout to have his first haircut as Disney World, so I made an appointment ahead of time. This place totally exceeded my expectations. It’s tiny – only three chairs – but period accurate, with spinny chairs, large mirrors and lots of dark wood. The barber we had was very personable and patient, clearly experienced in working with very small children. Before he started, he stuck about eight Mickey stickers on Sprout, all over his shoes, legs, and shirt. After he finished, he signed a certificate, put the cut hair in a little bag, and gave Sprout a pair of Mickey ears with “My First Haircut” embroidered on the back. And the cost of all of this luxury? $18! You can’t buy Mickey ears by themselves for that price. Even if your kid (or you) is too old for a first haircut, they offer very reasonable kids and adult haircuts. For just some fun in the park, they’ll also gel and glitter your hair for $5.

3) Never underestimate the value of a good baby playground.
As a new participant in the Toddler Brigade, Sprout is obsessed with walking as much as possible and going up and down stairs. However, the main areas were way too busy for toddling very far. Fortunately, we found almost every little kid play structure and spray ground in the parks. In particular, the small structure outside of Splash Mountain and the interactive fountain in Epcot between Mission Space and Test Track were just the right size for him. In fact, watching him run so confidently down the little hall and up the stairs at the Splash Mountain playground was one of my proudest moments so far.

4) Some of the rides kids enjoy the most are the least appropriate for them.
While Disney has plenty of rides that appeal to teens and adults now, the original ones at the Magic Kingdom are still some of the most appealing to little kids. They’re really simple and engaging, with lots of colors and animatronics. While some of them still hold up well – I adore the Haunted Mansion – a lot of them clearly reflect the cultural baggage of the time period they were created in. It’s A Small World’s racial and cultural diversity may have been well-intentioned at the time but comes across as trading in some nasty stereotypes now. (Apparently Africa doesn’t have any buildings!) Country Bear Jamboree mocked the maudlin country songs of the time on Roy Rogers, but what is considered appropriate for children has apparently changed a lot since then. I’m not into overly protecting Sprout, but lyrics like “Mama, don’t whip little Buford…I think you should shoot him instead,” “Tears will be the chaser for your wine,” “Every boy who turns me on turns me down,” and “And a great big puddle of blood on the ground” left me giggling in horrified amusement. You expect the radio to talk about sex and murder, but not the critters at Disney! But perhaps the worst is the Pirates of the Caribbean, where the PG-13 movies arguably toned down the content from the ride. Scenes of pirates burning entire cities and selling off enslaved women were originally supposed to evoke lurid fascination, like the horror comics of the 1930s. But now that we’ve so romanticized the idea of a pirate – reinforced by the gobs of pirate merchandise for kids available right after the ride – the whole thing turned my stomach. No, Disney, I don’t want my boy to be a pirate. We’ll stick with the Jedi Training Academy at Hollywood Studios instead. As problematic as Jedi are, at least they’re on the side of good. Or we’ll hang out with Tom and Huck on their island across the way.

5) Where all of the produce stands are.
While I’m fine with having dessert and junk food some of the time, I don’t think vacation means an endless supply of fries and ice cream alone. Fortunately, Disney actually has some healthy snacks available if you know where to look. Every park has a stand selling fresh fruit (and often other healthy snacks): in Animal Kingdom in Harambe in the Africa section, in Hollywood Studios on the way to the Tower of Terror, in EPCOT in the Land pavilion, and at Magic Kingdom in Liberty Square.

6) That all of the outdoor rides close when it thunders.
One of the major disadvantages of going in August are the afternoon thunderstorms. As we had storms almost every day, we also found out that for safety reasons, Disney closes all of the outdoor rides and playgrounds for an undetermined period of time when it starts thundering. This isn’t too much of a problem in EPCOT and Hollywood Studios because they have very few outdoor rides. In Magic Kingdom, it shuts down Dumbo, which was disappointing to me because Sprout and I were in the midst of waiting for it. But where the thunder really becomes challenge is in Animal Kingdom, which has a ton of outdoor rides. The best bet is actually the safari ride, which does stay open, allowing you to see all of the animals that come out to enjoy the rain.

7) That Disney World has a petting zoo.
This is something that was of zero interest to me an adult but immediately appealing when visiting with a little kid. It’s in Rafiki’s Planet Watch in Animal Planet and beautifully well-run. Instead of having the animals in cages or behind fences, they had roped areas that the animals could retreat to when they were sick of being pawed at by kids. Because they didn’t have the kids feed the animals, they were all pleasantly calm, even the goats. And of course, they were wonderfully clean. Because the area is far away from the main park, it was also blessedly uncrowded.

8) Even Daddies can’t resist the siren call of a plush Olaf. Even if the kid only saw the first ten minutes of the movie.

Walt Disney World Week: What I Learned About My Family

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / 6 Comments

Last week, we returned from Sprout’s first trip to Walt Disney World. Normally, I wouldn’t bring a kid that young, but my in-laws are hard-core into it and volunteered to pay for the entire trip. So off we went to see the Mouse.

Now, I’ve been to Disney World as an adult, but nothing could prepare me for visiting with a small child. It becomes an entirely different experience, rife with its own set of joys and frustrations.

Here are a few of the things I learned about my own family along the way:

1) How little sleep my son can survive on.

One of my main areas of concern was getting Sprout back to the hotel for a daily nap and his normal bedtime. Due to extenuating circumstances, that plan went out the window almost immediately. While we managed some lengthy stroller naps – one was a full two hours – most days had very short naps and a bedtime at least an hour past the norm. But despite this shift, Sprout was mostly good-tempered. As long as he had something to look at (which there almost always was, being Disney World), and had enough time to walk around, he was pretty chipper.

2) The difference between listening to someone complain about the challenges of bedtime and experiencing them firsthand.

Sprout is not a good sleeper. He hates going to sleep and bedtime can end up being 45 minutes of him yelling at me in Baby. I’ve explained this to my in-laws, but I don’t think it set in until the night they put him to bed. While they had put him to bed at our house before, vacation radically upped the excitement level. From patting on the back to classical music, they tried every trick they knew of, only to be foiled by a loud whine the second they closed the door. They finally got him to sleep after nearly an hour. While I felt bad for them, it was a relief to see that it’s not just us he’s pain about when it comes to bedtime.

3) Sometimes folks need more comprehensive instructions than you would expect.

My father-in-law volunteered to put Sprout to bed one night so the rest of the adults could go out to dinner at a restaurant he didn’t like. As Chris and his sister came out pretty great, I figured he had the basic baby wrangling skills covered. Unfortunately, it had been far too long since he had changed a diaper. As such, he didn’t recall Cardinal Rule #1 of diaper changing – have everything ready before taking the diaper off. Even though he strongly suspected there were poops present, he failed to get the wipes out beforehand, leaving him without the needed resources. Instead, he said something hand wavy about “rinsing him off in the tub” and left it at that. Ewwww.

4) Don’t read the news while you’re on vacation.

While we were relaxing in the room, I happened to read a post on local news blog Greater Greater Washington. Unfortunately, this particular post mentioned that there had been torrential rain at Baltimore National Airport. In fact, a number of vehicles swamped and became totalled – in the parking lot we parked in. So I spent the whole week worrying that we might not be able to start our car when we got home. As it turned out, nothing was wrong. I wouldn’t have even known there was a problem if I hadn’t read the news post.

5) How rewarding it is for your kid to enjoy something you remember fondly from your own childhood.

Being a giant nerd, EPCOT was one of my favorite parks as a kid. I really loved the Journey into Imagination ride and its mascot, the purple dragon, Figment. I had a little stuffed version of him that was worn out from hugging. So I was thrilled when Sprout enjoyed the Journey into Imagination ride, looking around at the bright colors and funny sounds. He was also really engaged by the activities afterwards, from the squares that played instrument noises when you jumped on them to the machine that changes tone when you wave your arms. And perhaps most importantly, his face totally lit up when I bought him his very own Figment.

6) Respecting your kid means sometimes giving them something they want even when you know they won’t like it.

I’ve believed in this as part of my overall philosophy of respecting my kid as a person, but never had the chance to put it into practice. So when Sprout pointed to my curry noodle soup, I hesitated over giving it to him. It was a little too spicy for me, so he certainly wouldn’t like it. And he didn’t – he spit it out and batted at his tongue with his hand. But you know what? Maybe he would have loved it!

7) How much a kid can grow up in 10 days.

I’ve believed for a long time that travel can help lead to incredible personal growth. It exposes you to new cultures, natural and crafted beauty, and challenging situations. However, I would have never guessed that it would be true for a kid as little as Sprout. But it certainly seems like our trip sparked that growth in him.

The first full day at Disney, he decided he no longer wanted to hold my hand when he walked, motivating me to buy a “toddler tether.” The rest of the trip, he wandered around with Chris or me in tow.

In addition to mobility, he also wanted to do things that mommy and daddy do. Suddenly, he decided he wanted to push his own stroller instead of ride in it. A few days later, he kept whining and pushing his plate away, so we thought he was done eating. We finally figured out he was still hungry – he just wanted to eat the whole tacos, not the cut-up ones. Now, whenever he’s complaining and I can’t figure out why, I just start to think, “Is this something ‘grown-up’ that he wants?”

But perhaps his social growth has been the greatest. Sprout has been charming folks at restaurants now for a while, but we hadn’t seen the extent of his ongoing nature until this trip. He waved and said hi to almost everyone around us in line, on the bus, and at restaurants. He even walked up to people in the airport in the middle of conversations and would start jabbering away at them as if he was a natural participant – even though he isn’t speaking many recognizable words yet!

Why I Don’t (Really) Mind When You Compare Your Dog to My Kid

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / 4 Comments

A lot of my friends have dogs that they adore and don’t have kids, either because they aren’t at the right point in their lives yet or they don’t want kids. So when I do have the chance to get together with my kid-free friends, my story about my kid is often followed by them with a story about their dog. And I’m totally cool with that. Seriously. (Even if I can snap after too many jokes about the similarities when I’m already stressed – apologies to my sister-in-law.)

Photograph of golden retriever close up.

Here’s why I’m fine with you comparing your dog to my kid:
1) You’re looking for a way to relate.
For people who don’t have kids, it’s hard to know how to respond to someone droning on about changing diapers and sleep issues. What happened to the person who backpacked through South America? But both dogs and kids provide a way to talk about the domestic issues in our lives without being a total dullard.

2) They both take a level of time and emotional investment that people who don’t have pets or kids don’t realize.
As much as I love dogs, I am definitely not interested in getting one. They simply require too much time, emotional energy and attention that I don’t have. Dogs (unlike cats) are very social animals who need a lot of interaction to thrive. While you obviously have a very different relationship with your dog than I do with my kid, I totally respect your level of commitment to them and desire to talk about them.

3) They both rely on us for everything – and get into trouble when they don’t.
Dog stories and toddler stories are remarkably similar. They too often end with something destroyed and / or eaten that really, really shouldn’t have been.

4) We both have to deal with poop entirely too often.
Especially because my husband and I cloth diaper our son. At least we don’t have to pick it up in the yard. But total poop solidarity.

5) They’re smarter than my kid – for now.
Taking problem solving, language and social understanding into account, the average dog is actually smarter as a two year old. My kid is just past one, so he has some catching up to do to your pooch.

6) Dogs really are cute.
If you tolerate my Facebook photos of my kid, I’ll totally tolerate those of your dog.

7) You do understand the difference; you aren’t dumb.
As John at the Ask Your Dad blog points out, anyone who has any social skills at all knows that a dog isn’t the same as a human child. My friends are all smart enough to understand the difference between species.

8) I respect the fact that you don’t have kids.
A lot of my friends don’t want to have kids and I completely respect that. I’m not going to pretend that your dog fulfills a baby-shaped hole in your life because you don’t have a baby-shaped hole. Chastising folks who want to tell a story about their pet after you tell a story about your kid says to them, “Only I have the right to tell a story about my home life because there is something inherently more worthy than my story about my kids than your story about your pet.” But there isn’t – we all have our individual lives and want to share them with each other. The fact that you have different experiences than me makes you interesting. Plus, we parents sometimes like talking about something other than kids – including dogs.

So what are your favorite dog or dog and kid stories?

What I Want to Teach my Kid About Nature

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / 1 Comment

Recently, I read two almost antithetical essays about the value and meaning of nature, one in Sierra Magazine and one by an unschooling advocate. While the Sierra Club president went old-school in his defense of wilderness and the need to preserve it, the unschooler said that not only is there no such thing as wilderness, there’s hardly such a thing as nature. As an environmental communicator, I’ve thought a lot about this subject. I also know that I want to pass on a love of the outdoors and ecological values on to my son.

Considering both articles’ points of view, here’s what I want to teach Sprout while we’re out in nature:

1) Nature is beautiful – and so are a lot of other things.
I’m a Christian, so I believe that God shaped the natural world, albeit through evolutionary processes. Personally, I see His/Her fingerprints on every tree leaf and ocean wave. Likewise, I believe many human-made things are beautiful too, from a hand-crafted quilt to a well-planned streetscape. But saying they’re the same thing undermines the uniqueness of each, undervaluing both the complexity of biology and the human eye for artistry.

2) Not everything is nature, but nature can be found in the unlikeliest of places.
Sure, your plastic dinosaur may be made of oil, which was once natural (and even organic, going with the biological definition), but it isn’t nature. Neither is a city sidewalk, as useful as it is. But you can find nature even in places dominated by people – in weeds fuflilling their evolutionary duty of recolonizing disturbed places, hawks nesting in tall buildings, trees rising from city streets, insects pretty much everywhere. Finding and appreciating those places and creatures can help you remember that people are never truly alone – other species are trying to make their way as well.

3) Both Wildness and Wilderness are valuable.
Unlike the popular belief that Thoreau was referring to wilderness, the actual quote is “In Wildness is the preservation of the world.” To me, wildness is that fighting spirit of survival independent of humans that guides evolution and ecological relationships. Even non-living objects maintain their strength and momentum (albeit by physics, not consciousness), with rivers cutting through rock if ypu give them enough time. The wilderness is where that wildness is most evident and human interference is minimal. (With global environmental issues, there is no such thing as a complete lack of intervention, and even in pre-industrialized times, it was very rare) As people, we tend to be preoccupied with our own species, both as individuals and society. Observing wildness on the small scale and wilderness in the large one helps us see the bigger picture, both in terms of geographic and time scales. Comprehending the size of a redwood or understanding the age of a Galapogus turtle puts our concerns into perspective.

4) Nature is dangerous. But instead of being afraid of it, we should be prepared.
Because of that wildness, nature’s citizens don’t care about us. The Disney version of nature is about as real as the Disney version of Paris. While we control nature in many places and ways, it’s never truly tamed. There are some places I find too risky – I’ve never been interested in mountaineering – but you can experience most wild places with a reasonable level of safety as long as you’re smart about it. Being prepared is a good motto for everyone, not just Boy scouts.

5) Everything is interconnected, but also has value on its own.
My undergrad degree specialized in ecology, so I completely appreciagte the vast complexity of the food web and every other type of ecological interaction. But as important as keystone species are, it’s also worth appreciating each plant and animal’s incredible coolness. I’m a big fan of weird bugs and funky plants, even the ones that aren’t big, beautiful, or ecological building blocks.

6) We will never not have an impact. But there are ways we can mimic and work with nature to minimize the negative impact or even have a positive one. There are way too many humans to eliminate our impact, unless someone pulls a Crake (from an excellent series by Margaret Atwood) and unleashes a worldwide virus. But by mimicking and learning from nature’s patterns, we can find new ways to work within ecological systems instead of against them. This is why I love the permaculture movement – it takes as a given that we can combine ecological principles with agriculture to get what both we and the ecosystem needs. The sustainability movement has picked up the ball on this one, helping us better understand how we can build our cities, food system, and transportation networks, ideally in ways that are both environmentally and economically just.

7) Because all humans are part of a larger ecosystem, human health and well-being is tied to those ecosystems’ health.
Even if you don’t give a whit about polar bears or whales, environmental issues are fundamentally human issues. From air pollution to clean water to climate change, our world’s most vulnerable folks are the most negatively affected by environmental problems. They get stuck with dealing with respiratory diseases, high levels of mercury from coal plants, and intensified natural disasters from climate change, because of our unsustainable policies.

8) Just as we can be healed when we’re sick, so can many ecosystems.
While wilderness is wonderful, one of the big problems with the original movement was that it was just about preserving “untouched” places and didn’t have anything to say about places people actually lived. Too much policy treated polluted places like Edward Abbey claims to have – as if you could just litter in them because they were already ruined anyway. Fortunately, thinking has shifted away from this, leading to clean-ups of the Chesapeake Bay, the decanalization of rivers and streams, and the re-wilding of European forests.

9) We have a responsibility to each other to respect and care for those around us, no matter their species.
That really what this whole list comes down to. As many challenges as we face, we as humans are very powerful. And to quote good old Uncle Ben from Spiderman, “With great power comes great responsibility.”

You Know You’re a Sleep Deprived Parent When…

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / 3 Comments

My son is not what you would call a good sleeper. He’s far from the worst, thank God, but I’ve spent a fair number of hours in his room in the middle of the night. My night vision has gotten substantially better over the last year from practice. I scowl at those lucky bastards who say, “My child slept through the night at six weeks.” At 13 months old, we still consider it a good night when he wakes up once and falls back asleep within 10 minutes. So I know of which I speak when I talk about lacking sleep. In fact, every single one of these has happened to me!

You know you’re a sleep-deprived parent when:

  • You dream about not being able to sleep.
  • You sleep more soundly on the train into work than in your own bed.
  • You consider it a major accomplishment to have only a single caffeinated beverage during the day.
  • You know how to (kind of) sleep sitting up on the couch with a toddler sprawled out on you.
  • You find it hard to sleep without white noise because you’re so used to hearing it over the baby monitor.
  • You can apply oral-gel with your eyes closed – literally.
  • You have a justified fear of falling asleep on your feet and toppling over.
  • Sleeping until 8 am sounds scandalously luxurious.
  • 4 am seems like a perfectly normal time to be awake.
  • You are just So Damn Tired!

The End of a Nursing Era

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / 3 Comments

Breastfeeding my baby ended on Saturday, quietly and with no drama except a few sad smiles from me.

I didn’t plan to doextended breastfeeding and certainly didn’t want to draw it out to the point where Sprout could clearly ask for milk. While I respect every woman’s right to make those decisions for herself, the idea of doing it myself freaks me out a little. Sharing my body with my baby who needed it for his main source of nutrition was fine, but I definitely didn’t want a kid (albeit a little one) who can speak nursing essentially for comfort. But I also didn’t want to go cold turkey, which would be painful to me physically and Sprout emotionally.

Once I reached my one year goal, I started the process of weaning. First, I cut out one pumping session each week, which I was more than happy to say goodbye to. Getting back the time and headspace that I had devoted to pumping was definitely the best part of this process. Because I was producing less, Chris started giving him bottles on weekends (in addition to weekdays) to supplement my nursing. I tried to give him a bottle and he did not take kindly to it, throwing it across the room.

Once I stopped pumping, my morning and nighttime supply also dwindled. As he wasn’t getting enough from me to last through the night without waking up hungry, Chris also took the final leg of the bedtime routine to feed him a bottle. Spout also didn’t seem to protest Daddy putting him to bed as much he did me, since he saw him all day and wasn’t as disappointed about not being able to play with him.

Finally, there were just two feedings left – when Sprout woke up and right before he went to bed, special times for us. As I knew these would be the hardest, I gave myself another week before tackling them, to make the transition as smooth as possible. Also, possibly, to drag the process out a little bit longer. As A Benediction for Nursing Moms says, we both mourn and rejoice at the beauty of what we’re leaving behind.

As it turned out, I had nothing to worry about in terms of Sprout being traumatized. He actually became rather ambivalent about nursing. He would latch on when offered, but would only stay on for a few minutes. Rather than rejecting me (which he’s done before), he just seemed apathetic. If he had the social sophistication, I would say he was doing it out of a sense of obligation.

In fact, he didn’t even seem to notice when I cut out the morning feeding. Unlike the first time I offered the bottle, he accepted it readily, happy to be able to drink a lot of milk, fast. He even continued to play with my hair, something he always did while nursing.

I had planned to wait a full week and a half before stopping the evening feeding, but moved the calendar forward because of his lack of enthusiasm. I purposely chose the last night as a quiet one, with Chris at the movies and me putting Sprout to bed by myself. Of all the milestones, this was one I actually controlled and I wanted to give it the focus it deserved. I felt a bit sad, knowing that this would be the last time we shared this special bond. But I didn’t cry. Instead, I just watched him with special attention, lingering on the look in his eyes. When he finished, I hugged him, kissed him, and offered him a full bottle, the transition complete.

While so many things with him becoming a toddler are loud, the end of nursing was hushed, a gentle kiss goodnight to his babyhood.

To Love is to Listen

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / 7 Comments

I have a confession to make – I’m a terrible listener. I like learning about other people, but I enjoy talking about myself even more. When something comes to mind, I say it far too often, even if someone else is in the middle of talking about something else entirely. (This post describes me perfectly.) My filter has improved over the years, but it’s something I’ve literally worked on for decades and I’m only 31 years old. So among my many fears of becoming a parent, not being a good enough listener was way up there.

Recently, I was reminded of how far I have to go upon reading some co-workers’ evaluations of me. They did say a lot of good things, but it was very clear that I could do more to listen and consider other people’s perspectives. To me, the starkest sign was that I said that I try to genuinely listen to others, while my co-workers said I sometimes just pretend to listen. Unfortunately, both of them are true – even though I try to listen, I still fail at it too often.

While this has some implications for my career, it was even more of a wake-up call for my parenting. You can suck at listening and still be a good employee, but you can’t be a good parent. As Sprout communicates more and starts speaking, my listening skills are only going to increase in importance.

For one, listening well is one of the best ways I can respect my son. Our society undermines children’s perspectives and feelings, telling them that they should be this way because authority says so or this way because it’s trendy. Not listening to children or perhaps worse, pretending to listen and then steamrolling them shows kids that they aren’t valued. And when parents don’t respect kids, they don’t receive respect back. Plus, if kids aren’t respected at home, they try to find from other places, many of which aren’t healthy. In fact, three of my favorite parenting resources really focus on how good listening connects to respect. How to Talk So Kids Will Listen and Listen So Kids Will Talk has some phenomenal examples of ghonest active listening, Dr. Karp’s Happiest Toddler on the Block gives tips on how to listen when your kid is barely speaking, and this video talks about how listening is related to teaching the meaning of consent.

In addition to respecting my son, I want to be a role model for him. If he takes after his dad, he’ll already have a head start, but I still want to set a good example. As the consent video points out, if we wait until kids are teenagers to teach about consent, it’s too late. Consent is fundamentally about respecting other people’s preferences and boundaries, which we learn through good listening. Learning how to listen well is probably one of the best life skills I can pass on to Sprout.

Fortunately, becoming a mother has already set me down a path for improvement. The How to Listen book made me aware of a lot of tendencies I hadn’t even realized, like giving advice when people just want someone to listen. It also helped me realize that saying very little while actively showing that you’re paying attention can truly draw people out.

At the time, Sprout wasn’t communicating much beyond crying, so I practiced on our neighbors’ kids instead. Coming home from work, I ran into a couple of them coming back from the park. One of them started telling me extensively about his coin collection, declaring that he was going to invest in silver because “it was low and expected to climb.” At the same time, the other kid randomly proclaimed that “you can’t trust anyone.” When I asked, “Hmmm. Why do you say that?” he explained that someone he thought was cool called someone else gay and you shouldn’t do that. I tipped my hand a little by commenting, “But it’s okay for people to love whomever they want” and agreeing that it shouldn’t be used as a slur. In the less than 5 minutes I walked with them I learned so much about their lives by just listening and respecting what they had to say.

As Sprout still doesn’t have many vocabulary words, listening to him now involves carefully figuring out his needs by watching him. I can then vocalize what he wants to communicate but doesn’t have the language skills to do so. (This especially important considering our half-assed at best efforts at teaching him sign language.) Figuring out what he’s “saying” forces me to take his needs seriously, rather than brush them off as whining. It’s worked pretty well, calming him and helping him demonstrate more patience than I think he would otherwise.

My relationship with him has also helped lay the foundation for better listening skills by fundamentally changing how my brain works. One of the main reasons I’m such a bad listener is because I find it very hard to shut off my internal monologue. You shouldn’t think about what you’re going to say while someone else is talking, but my brain will be four paragraphs ahead if I let it. It takes a serious conscious effort for me to focus. Fortunately, this clarity of thought is something I find easier to achieve with Sprout than anyone else. Since I’ve returned to work, I’ve tried hard to make our time together on weekdays special without outside thoughts crowding it. As he had even less to say at the time, I learned to appreciate just watching him and enjoying his company. Now, I can sit on the lawn and watch him play in the grass far longer than I would have imagined before becoming a parent.

Parenting exposes your biggest strengths and weaknesses. As I face mine head-on with honesty, I find that the growth to become a better parent is making me a better wife, daughter, friend, co-worker and neighbor as well.

Are there any skills you’ve felt compelled to improve on as a parent?

Two is Sometimes Better than One

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / 2 Comments

I never babysat as a kid, so taking care of someone else’s children is rather foreign to me. Nonetheless, I accepted the challenge when my friend suggested a baby swap between Sprout and their daughter. Basically, we’d babysit their four-month old one afternoon while they went out and they’d do the same for us a few weeks later. While I was happy for the offer of free babysitting, I was actually more pleased to have the opportunity to help them out. They’re moving out of the area soon and I wanted to give them some downtime, something already in short supply when you’re a new parent.

So two weekends ago, we were in charge of the care and feeding of not just one, but two kids. From our previous conversations, we knew their daughter was a much better sleeper than Sprout was at that age, able to nap in places other than someone’s arms. We also knew that she’s a pretty easy-going baby, but as 4-month-olds don’t have a lot of specific personality traits, not much else. They left us with milk, diapers, a few tidbits of advice, and well-wishes.

Even though we’ve been through this stage recently, it’s so easy to forget how much knowledge you lose and how fast kids change. I now feel bad mocking my parents (even though it was gentle) for not remembering certain things about babies. I was less than a year on and I already felt lost!

Not long after our friends left, we promptly remembered that barely-beyond newborns communicate everything through crying – loud, high-pitched crying. While Sprout’s vocabulary is still limited to “Mama,” “Dada,” and “Hi,” he has variations in his sounds and other ways to communicate. Even his cries vary, from an annoyed whine to a distressed wail. Although our friends said they could tell the difference between their daughter’s cries – short indicated being tired, long indicated hunger – we were at a total loss. When you hear your own kid constantly, you hear all of the little variations, but to us it sounded like one long waaaah.

We were also reminded that baby girls will definitively let you know when they need their diaper changed. In contrast, Sprout could be wet forever and not care. He’s only just now starting to communicate when he’s poopy. Usually, we just check him on a regular basis and watch his facial expressions. But our little visitor certainly let us know – loudly – when she needed to be changed. Although our friends had packed several diapers, we went through them quickly!

We also ran through her milk faster than anticipated. Our friend had packed three bottles, saying, “I think she’ll only drink two. If she drinks all three, call us and we’ll hurry back.” She drank all three by 5:30 pm, even though they weren’t due to be back until 7! On one hand, we didn’t want the baby to be hungry, but on the other we didn’t want to interrupt their dinner. To avoid rushing them too much but still let them know about the situate, we decided to wait until 6 to call.

Her sleep schedule turned out to be just as unpredictable as her eating. Sprout has had a specific nap schedule for months, so we’ve lost some familiarity with the randomness of near-newborn sleep. Much like me, Sprout would nap forever if we let him, but he would also be up all night – not an optimal situation. Even when Sprout slept at random times, he would only fall asleep nursing or on the bottle. In contrast, our friends’ baby didn’t typically fall asleep on the bottle, forcing us to guess when she was tired, as opposed to hungry. So my rocking and singing skills returned again as I struggled to remember the introduction to House at Pooh Corner.

But not everything was feeding and napping. The times when she was awake and not crying were quite delightful, as we watched the two kids interact. We pursue opportunities for Sprout to play with with other kids, but most of the time, they’re older than he is. He’s the youngest baby at our church and most of the kids at our neighborhood park are much older. This was the first time he’s interacted with a kid substantially younger than he is. At first, he was curious. We’ve already taught him how to be gentle when he touches others, so he wasn’t too rough. (And when he seemed to be going in that direction, we quickly separated them.) He seemed to realize that she’s smaller and more helpless than he is and didn’t expect much of her as a result. Chris and I have a theory that although toddlers see babies, they think of them more like moving toys than people. Sprout did get a little jealous when I was holding her at first, but was reassured as soon as Chris started playing with him. Once he investigated the situation and realized she couldn’t play with him, he got bored.

Taking care of both of the babies at the same time gave us a taste of what having two children would be like. While we could never have two kids so close in age unless we had twins, we do hope to have another kid while Sprout is still a toddler. His generally positive reaction was reassuring, even though his relationship with a sibling would obviously be different.

Looking after her also reminded me how diverse even the littlest kids are. Although the broad strokes of taking care of her were the same as they were with Sprout, the details, from diaper changing to sleep, were really different. Just like with him, we had to learn and adjust on the fly.

Lastly, this experience made me very glad that when I take maternity leave again that Chris will be at home with me. Besides it not being as boring, I can’t imagine taking care of a newborn and a toddler simultaneously (or even more challenging, newborn twins and a toddler like one of my friends has!). I may go back to work earlier than I did with Sprout, but at least those first few months will be easier. Having that second adult around will also allievate a lot of the potential sibling jealousy, as Chris could play with Sprout while I would be with the new baby.

I was glad to give my friends some time alone, but I was also quite content with giving her back. We have our hands plenty full with managing one kid at the time being!

I Would Walk Five Hundred Feet

/ Shannon Brescher Shea / 3 Comments

I am all about allowing Sprout to develop at his own pace without pushing him. But on the last few weeks, that pace has picked up significantly. This week, Sprout truly started walking!

He first got on the move at around 7 months, when he started scooting backwards. While I thought it would be a short phase – surely he would get bored with going backwards – he didn’t seem to mind.

In fact, it took him almost two months before moving forwards appeared to occur to him. One day, something just clicked – Sprout got his hands and legs coordinated and was on his way. Once he started, there was hardly a learning curve. It was as if he had been practicing in private. Right around the same time, he started pulling up on everything he could get his hands on – the couch, the coffee table, the curtains, our pants, my hair (Ouch – I am not Rapunzel.).

Following the same pattern, he crawled and pulled up on things for a couple of months, showing little interest in walking until near his first birthday. He “cruised” by hanging on to furniture quite well, but didn’t try to bridge gaps he couldn’t reach across or stand on his own. He would walk from place to place if we helped him, but he didn’t seem that interested in it.

But then, about a month and a half ago, walking with our help was all he wanted to do. He’d sit on the floor and raise up his hand, indicating that he wanted a finger or two to grab onto. Once anchored, he would twist his leg out from under him, place one foot down, and then squirm a bit to get the other one in place. Soon enough, he was so solid with our help that he was walking both inside and outside, over all sorts of surfaces. Playing with any his toys paled in comparison to walking! Chris said that some days, his back started to give out from having to lean over so much.

Despite his new-found love, Sprout was totally uninterested in walking independently for several weeks. Just over two weeks ago, he walked for the first time on his own after we let go of his hand. But even then, he was very hesitant. He would only take “steps” if Chris or I were very close by with open arms.

Suddenly at church last week, he decided he had quite enough practice and it was time to strike off on his own. He was walking all over the place, now unafraid. While he still didn’t like falling, he could walk well enough on his own to actually get somewhere without tumbling every few steps.

Since then, he’s been practicing his skills every chance he gets. He still likes holding mommy or daddy’s hand, but lets go as often as not. Sometimes when he’s walking on his own, he keeps his right hand in the air, steadying himself with our virtual support. He was even chasing a little girl on the lawn at our Town Square yesterday afternoon. She looked more disappointed than he did when he fell, circling back and holding out her arms to help him get up.

While he falls very little considering how recently he started walking, it’s still a lot compared to an adult. His reaction really varies, ranging from not caring at all to wailing immediately. (We’ve already had some dramatic ones.) When he does seem distraught post-fall, describing his feelings for him (“Oh, that hurt to fall down, falling down is scary.”), a technique from The Happiest Toddler on the Block, has actually helped quite a bit. After a brief whine, he’s usually satisfied and waves his hands to request help getting up.

Although he can’t do them on his own yet, he’s obsessed with steps, both crawling and walking up them. On our way to the playground yesterday, he spent so long stepping on and off of the sidewalk curb that the kids that had been playing there left by the time we arrived. When we were in Peru, I joked that the Incas discovered the stair and said, “Yes, that’s what we will build our empire on.” I despise climbing stairs, but he would have fit right in.

Now he’s intently focused on his next skill – climbing. Before he started walking independently, he actually showed more interest in trying to climb – lifting his knees up in the air and trying to get footholds – than walking. In fact, he climbed up to the couch using my leg as a step-stool before he took his first steps.

For big steps or climbing up the rocks in our Town Square, he holds on to both my hands and lifts his foot up above his waist. If we don’t shift his weight for him, he’ll put all of his weight on our hands, making him near-perpendicular to whatever he’s climbing. He doesn’t seem to mind – he must have it in his blood from me rock-climbing while he was in-utero.

I’m both proud of and nervous about his passion for climbing. While walking is a big deal, he can’t really access any household items that he couldn’t previously. But once he starts climbing – especially if he progresses as quickly as he has with the other skills – we’re doomed.

Now, Sprout is definitively a toddler – there’s no denying it. I love walking with him now, despite the repetition, and look forward to walking all sorts of places with him in the future.