All posts tagged: parenting

Some Day IS Now

Being a present and available parent for my kids drives my ambitions and choice to live and work on my own terms. December tenth is a special day, a milestone day in my journey with my husband as a parent. It is a day that I hold close. Some day is today. Thirteen years ago my Mom sat by my side in the hospital. We were sitting next to the incubator. Actually it is called an isolate. Incubators are for chickens, not people. This very special bed held my very special son, Eric, at a weight of one pound fourteen ounces. ( He now weighs ninety pounds and would be so embarrassed that I wrote this.) Those who knew us then, know this story well. I went into labor on Labor Day and two days later, after loads of magnesium and other drugs, the doctors couldn’t stop the contractions, I was nine centimeters dilated, and Eric was born at twenty–six weeks and two days gestation instead of the full-term forty weeks. I was teeth-chatteringly frightened. …

Eleven

Eleven. My first born son is eleven years old. Everyone says it goes by so fast. That statement always makes me sad and anxious.  I want to savor moments, take deep breaths, and hold on so I feel and experience the miracle of this child before me. It is true that time can not slow down; and it is also true that time does not speed up. It is constant. None of that changes the fact that Eric is and eager early bird in just about everything. Mornings he is especially bright, cheery, and early. On the morning of his birthday he was so eager to get to school he asked to walk over early and play on the playground (which I can see from my back window). Little did I know that he would head to his classroom where his teacher told him he can’t arrive an hour before school starts. His early arrival in life is just who he is. It certainly has presented challenges, particularly at his birth when he arrived fourteen …

At the Dentist

A funny, and not so fun, thing happens when I take my kids to those dentist appointments where they put the silly-gas mask on their face. When I see them lying there with all these instruments and health professionals my chest gets tight, my heart aches all the way into my mouth, and this horrible sense of dread flashes through my body. In other words, I panic. Today I am here with Noah, my youngest, for a simple but uncomfortable procedure. He is getting sealants on his molars, something I wish my mom had done to protect my teeth. So why the panic? The same experience happened a few years ago when Eric, my older one, went through this. (deep breaths here) I hear him whimpering through the nasal mask, and I see his body squirming. I want to reach for him. I want to tell him I am sorry and that he will thank me later for protecting his beautiful, perfect teeth from the very decay I have to have drilled out and filled …

A Time for Comfort Food & Running

The smell of fresh baked, oatmeal, chocolate chip cookies wafted through the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) every afternoon at  three o’clock. I sat there in the mother’s room expressing milk for my preemie son for the fifth time that day when I first discovered this daily bit of tasty comfort. After completing my milk maid duties, I took great comfort in enjoying two, whole, soft, chewy delicious cookies, and washing it down with a small carton of whole milk that accompanied every cookie delivery. Over our three month stay in the NICU watching our son grow and develop into a full fledged baby, I took comfort in the daily  cookies-milk ritual with no regard for nutrition. It wasn’t about nutrition. Well, maybe it was a little about nutrition. I did revel in the fact that generating and expressing as much milk as possible for my little guy was the only thing I could focus on and my body needed hearty, whole, and real nutrients to do that. My afternoon ritual was literally feeding my …

Crushing Running Goals at Forty

My long-term relationship with running matured to a great place in my first year of forty. Gone are the days of running to burn calories. Instead, running has become my sanctuary, my place to pray, breath, think and find space. It helps me to filter out unnecessary thoughts, worries, and to-do’s. Running helps me find clarity and connect my stories whether they are at home or work. Through running I solve problems, make decisions, and leave behind things that no longer serve me. At forty years-old, running brings simplicity to this complicated life of experiences. I put on my shoes and go. One foot in front of the other. Simple. Some of life’s greatest struggles leave little freedom or desire to run. Such was the case after Eric was born. Eventually running called me back and today I see that running as privilege to be grateful for. Muscling through life’s struggles and challenges should assured me that I had what it takes to run trails spanning mountain ranges. So I set out to experience the Ridge Run …

Transitioning to TaraDell Tells

I have been blogging about” The adventures of Eric and his brother Noah with plenty of Momma’s commentary. And sometimes Dad’s” since 2006.  The blog was initially started by my husband as a way to keep friends and family updated on Eric’s developmental milestones after he was born at 26 weeks and 2 day gestation. For those of you who don’t speak “weeks”, that is 3.5 months before his due date. I was only 6.5 months pregnant.As Eric has gotten bigger, stronger, older, and become a big brother to Noah, the blog transitioned to document many of the everyday normal joys and adventures of parenting. Today Eric’s blog feels more like a celebration of entering an unfamiliar, scary, and uncertain world and then, coming out on the other side with more joy and laughter than you could imagine.Please don’t puke at the gushiness of that statement! I am ripping my hair out, spinning in circles, and sometimes screaming (hardly every really) as much as the next normal parent. Parents to preemies, however have another tool …

What little boys are made of

The age-old nursery rhyme says girls are made of sugar and spice and everything nice and boys are made of snips, snails, and puppy dog tales. Today, as Noah and I parted for the day and he sent me off with a kiss. For the first time Noah blew me a kiss. Yes, he enjoys making dirt angels and thinks food in his hair is funny (literally will place food in his hair and proclaim “FUN -ny”) but there  is no denying he is sweeter than sugar and full of spice. I am a biased Momma for sure but, my boys are exceptionally sweet and I have met some little girls at the playground who were not so “sugar & spice” and how dare the treat me little men like that!  Funny to think that all men were once precious little boys. The thought of it has found me being a little bit nicer in those moments where I am  just a little irritated by the seemingly skillful way men can look right at you …

A Story of Supply and Demand: Breastmilk

There is no doubt that breastfeeding is the best nourishment for your baby. My own son, now a healthy and happy seven year-old boy, was born at twenty-six weeks and two days. It was frightening, but at the moment I delivered my body created the perfect food for him tailored by nature specifically to his one pound and fourteen ounce body. As he was whisked off to the NICU the doctor entered my room with a small little tube that could hold only 3 millileters. He stressed the importance of my ability to capture the first drops of milk, colostrum, that would be made available to my son as soon as possible. I am forever grateful for the lactation consultant that spent time with me teaching me to self-express these  tiny drops of “pure gold” that would help him to develop his premature digestive system. This was my gift to him and the only way I could put my nurturing instincts to good use. It was then that I truly understood the importance of giving …