Sickies

When we're sick or under the weather, our world slows down.

And we stop.

We take care of only the bare necessities, rest, and whatever we have left, play around with.

I was taught how to take care of myself, and my little ones by my loving, caring Mom.

I remember getting scolded when I worked for actually staying at home to rest when I was sick.  Imagine that!  I remember thinking people that came to work sick, when they didn't have to, were a little nuts, and risked getting everyone else sick.  But I listen to my body and my gut, and when we're down, we stop.

I'm not one to push us really.  We know our pace, and the pace of nature, and we honor and respect that.  We're rarely rushed, and hardly over-scheduled.  And we're happy that way.

We can do things according to our calendar, but easily take up an offer that makes us smile even bigger.

Another way to say it is, we play by ear.

Monday we felt a off.  Just not totally there.  We chilled around the house, rested around, and played outside.  Then that night before bed I thought "I wonder if we are getting sick?"

Sure enough, on Tuesday, I woke up to an unhappy, sad and extra tired baby, and a not so spunky boy.  I felt tired, so we took it easy, played downstairs after not hardly touching breakfast.

Before I knew it, sweet Bodhi was laying on the floor on a toy and said "ni ni", closed his eyes, and started to fall asleep.  At 9:30!  Beyond a doubt, I felt what was coming.

I held him and he nursed, and as he fell asleep in my arms, and rested long and deep, while Z and I built a whole city, complete with every superhero you could imagine.  I also made some vegetable soup, so that we could just call it a day!

Then, the sweet baby woke up with a fever.

Sick babies are so so sad.

I nursed him, and we rested, rubbed on some Thieves Oil and Oreganol.  Ate as much as we could, and on and off, we napped, and lazed around.

It always drives a mama a little nuts when her boys don't want to eat, but they know how to listen to their bodies, admittedly, better than me sometimes.

Thankfully, yesterday, we arose with timid smiles, and Daddy was off, so the day was good.

I am grateful that we honor our body's rhythm.

It's Time

Z's first night in his own bed

Is it time to stop nursing?

Is it time for him to have his own bed?

Is it time to get that kid out of diapers?

These were the top three most tiresome questions I heard when Z was younger.  Believe me, I heard them plenty of times.  I am sure I will get them with Bodhi too.

My answer was always, "When it's time."

Our children always tell us when it's time.  We just have to listen and watch.

There is nothing wrong with encouraging but force doesn't work.  It's counter-intuitive.

Of course there are times when parents have to stop things that are dangerous or harmful, but not with natural processes.  At least not for me.

He slowly stopped nursing when I was pregnant, even while co-sleeping.  He was two years, four months old and I was four months pregnant when he nursed himself to sleep for the last time.  I secretly hoped he would so that Bodhi would get that special bond, time, and milk to himself.  But, I never pushed it.  I would offer milk sometimes, but never denied him his precious boob.  He did it on his own, when he was ready.

He moved into his bed a week before Bodhi was born.  I have to admit, at nine months pregnant I was getting uncomfortable, but that can be life with children I figured.  We set up his bed about a month and a half before Bodhi was due.  We talked about it, read books about it, let him pick out the cool comforter and pillows, and gently reminded him his bed was there.  One night after brushing his teeth he looked at me and said, "I'm going to bed."  He marched into his bed.  I said not a word.  I asked him what stories he wanted to read.  I and read to him, and kissed him goodnight, he fell asleep while I was reading and I quietly slipped away.  He called out a few times that night, we went to him and comforted him, but remained in his bed until morning, all on his own.  It's been that way ever since.  He did it when he was ready.

A year ago I bought one of those little dude potties and a cushioned seat cover.  I was hopeful not to have two kids in diapers.  He wasn't too interested.  Sure he used it a few times sporadically but all in all was just fine with his diapers.  I let him go naked around the house and he would use the potty then, but if I put underwear on him, he ended up drenched along with whatever he sat on.  He finally went longer and longer in underwear but wasn't quite ready.  I gave Pull-ups a shot.  It was the same as a diaper.  I noticed that sometimes he would tell me he had to go.  I thought maybe I should put him in underwear but it annoyed him.  My Mom and his pediatrician agreed that if he was ready I should put him into underwear.  I took him to the store a few weeks ago and had him pick out his underwear, bought a few extra pairs of pants, and one day said, "You are big and you know when to potty.  We are going to wear underwear during the day now.  It's OK if you have an accident.  If you have to go just tell me and no matter what I will help you go."  He seemed eager so I knew it would work.  Four days later he was accident free.  It happened when he was ready.

He teaches me so much about how to let things happen when they are ready to happen.  You can't push the river.

I do my best as a parent to watch for the signals.  Things always change and I have to be willing to pay attention and let them change in their own time with love and encouragement.

It will happen.  They will let us know when it's time if we keep our eyes open.

(Of course, every family is different and does what is right for them, this is just how we roll.)