I’m going through my mound of discharge papers one day a couple weeks ago, and it’s quite a book considering my postpartum complications – and one paper caught my eye.
Risks to babies of formula feeding include an increased risk of:
And then it goes on to list over a dozen different conditions: Asthma, Allergy, Acute respiratory disease… and the list goes on and on.
As I read, my jaw drops in shock. Am I really seeing correctly?
“I’m sure you have a new appreciation for everything!’’
“I bet you wake up in the morning and say Modeh Ani with a whole new meaning!”
These are typical things we say when talking to someone who went through a traumatic life-threatening experience; these are the questions I’ve been asked many times over the past few months.
“I see his watch!” I yell to no one in particular.
“Whose watch?” my husband asks. “Who left their watch here?”
“No, not here! In the picture!”
“Huh?”
“I see his watch! I know it’s his watch, I can tell! I can’t see his arm or any other part of him. I can make out his forehead , just where his hairline ends. Yup, it’s him.”
Finally a picture of my son at camp. I can relax now. I mean, I knew he had to have gotten there because he got on the bus. But it was a relief to see he was actually there.
My husband leans in closer, trying to get a view of the picture on my phone.
“Tell me again how you know it’s him? I don’t see him in the picture.”
I proudly point out the speck of a watch in back of the room, where he’s blocked by the kids in front of him.
“Wow, I think you’re right!” My husband is duly impressed with my picture hunting skills. I’m impressed with how much I’ve improved at this activity over the years too. It takes years of picture searching for multiple children to really hone the skill.
“So, do you think he’s having a good time?” my husband asks, half joking.
“I’m not sure, it’s hard to tell…” I answer quite seriously.
I squint and bring the phone as close to my eyes as possible. Still can’t tell.
How am I supposed to figure this out?!
I’ve resigned myself to the fact that seeing my kids in camp pictures leaves me with more questions than answers. Because really, how is it possible to figure out if your kid is doing ok in camp just from a picture?! Is he really smiling or just for the picture? Do I really expect my kid to be walking around 24/7 with a smile? Do I do that? Does anyone do that?
I would like to think he is having good time, because if he isn’t there’s really nothing I can do about it other than worry. And that really doesn’t help anything either. And truthfully, can you actually tell from a picture? But still we scour for pictures and stress ourselves out.
They looked at their mommy and said, “Is it video time yet?”
“Not yet,” said mommy, sipping her coffee while holding the baby and serving breakfast. “We didn’t even eat breakfast yet!”
So all the kids eat breakfast and spill breakfast and make a mess of breakfast and finally finish eating breakfast.
“Is it video time yet?” ask the kids.
“Of course not!” says mommy as she cleans up the kitchen table. “We need to daven!”
Everyone goes to daven; some finish in one minute, some in 10 and some haven’t started.
“Let’s go outside!” says mommy.
“It’s boring!” answer the kids.
“Is it video time yet?”
“Not yet,” says mommy, proud of herself for sticking to her guns. “We need outdoor time.”
So mommy and the kids go outside in the backyard and everyone gets busy with a game of cops and robbers. It seems every cop needs many branches-turned-to-guns. Mommy pretends not to see.
“Is it video time yet?” ask the kids.
“Not yet,” says mommy. “We are ready for lunch!”
After a noisy and hectic lunch, mommy just wants to plop on the couch and zone out for a while.
“Is it video time yet?” ask the kids
Mommy takes a deep breath. She remembers all the articles she’s read and podcasts she’s listened to about the big bad SCREENTIME. She will not be one of those mothers.
But the temptation is real.
“Not yet,” says mommy, with a little quiver in her voice.
“Let’s do a craft!”
Mommy is proud of herself for not giving in. Dinner is at 5:00; she will stick to her decision of video time not being before 3:00. She will not be one of those mothers.
Crafts, scissors, glue, mess and more mess follows.
In the end, there is no craft- just a heap of supplies and mess, because mommy really needed to just sit and catch her breath so she did not micro manage the activity.
Mommy hopes this will not impact her children’s future.
“Now is it video time?!” ask the kids.
Mommy falters.
It’s 2:00. Just one hour early … how bad can it be…
But no. Mommy knows the dangers of SCREENTIME and will not make the same mistake that those mothers make.
“Not yet,” mommy says, a little less convincing and a little less cheerful than earlier. “Let’s have a snack!”
After snack mommy finds herself cleaning up once again and mommy is tired.
And the baby is crying and needs to be fed.
And it’s still not 3:00, the designated video time.
Mommy falters for a moment; should we start video time early?
You can do it, mommy tells herself. Just wait until 3:00.
Everyone seems to be busy with Lego or clicks or magna tiles or something or other.
But still they ask, “Is it video time yet?”
Is it really ruining them? mommy wonders.
I will not ruin my kids with too much video time, mommy tells herself, but with less conviction and more doubt.
2:57. Mommy can do it. She will wait. She will wait!
“Is it video time yet?” ask the kids.
“Yes!“ says mommy, trying to hide just how excited she is. “It’s 3:00!”
Everyone squeals with delight and heads to the couch, and they set up the laptop.
Toveedo to the rescue.
They’re all Jewish videos, mommy says to herself as she feels a wave of guilt wash over her. They’re full of meaning and lessons.
Mommy hears rising voices from the other room.
“No, not Agent Emes! It’s so stupid!”
“Bella bracha!”
“Nooooo!”
Mommy practices her deep breathing.
“Mitzvah Boulevard!”
“Skull of a Genius!”
And then mommy hears it.
“Mommy!”
“Mommy!”
“Moooooommmmmmy!!!!”
“Work it out!” Mommy calls from her place on the couch in the other room. “Figure out how to make everyone happy or we can’t watch anything!” And mommy silently hopes that she does not have to carry through on that one…
And then mommy hears the video playing.
And some chatting.
And mommy is thinking that despite what they say, screentime isn’t all that evil. There’s so much that kids can learn through screen time.
There’s sharpening all their conflict resolution skills.
There’s discussion.
There’s negotiating.
There’s persuasion.
There’s camaraderie as they giggle together while they watch.
And chit chat as they talk about what’s going on.
And they’re all sitting so tightly together on the couch, in close proximity of each other and enjoying themselves. Feeling safe and secure in the presence of each other.
As mommy allows herself to finally zone out and just relax, she can’t help but think that maybe she should even let them start video time before 3:00 tomorrow ….
I was checking out at target with a handful of baby girl stuff. This seems to be becoming a regular occurrence … After 16 years of shopping for baby boy clothes, I am in heaven; finally back in the girls department! Ruffles, bows, pink and more pink – they all call my name. So somehow, even though I really came in for a return…there I was with a handful of adorable pink items, waiting to pay.
The cashier at the register noticed my purchases and started chatting.
Little Yellow Notepad 