this week’s contributor is from courtney, of parent tango, a she says/he says blog about marriage, family, and parenting. in this post she writes about the transition of being a mother of one to multiples, and the beauty of it.
this week’s contributor is from courtney, of parent tango, a she says/he says blog about marriage, family, and parenting. in this post she writes about the transition of being a mother of one to multiples, and the beauty of it.
I know several women who are pregnant with their second child. All of them have expressed trepidation over how they will ever be able to love the second child as much as they love the first. I can relate. The mother of four and an only child myself, I am here to tell you, you can love all of your children hugely. And you’re doing a good thing by given them another person to share their young life with.
As an only child, I went along obliviously happy as a lark, not realizing how fortunate I was to benefit from the perks of having my parents’ full attention and the opportunities that went along with that. But when I was 10, my parents told me they had had another baby, born prematurely, two years after I was born. He lived only an hour. Besides the heartache of my parents which I couldn’t even wrap my young brain around, I was suddenly so sad for myself. I went from being contentedly solo in the world to feeling the absence of a sibling I had never known to miss.
From then on, whenever my parents were particularly annoying (they grew increasingly annoying as I entered my teen years, naturally), I wished my brother had been there to commiserate with. I felt lonely for the first time ever and wished he had been there to hang around with. I was changed. And it changed what I thought about having my own children someday.
I married a man who had wanted to have four children since he was a young child. I wasn’t so sure about that number, since four people sounded like a crowd to me! As life and my husband’s fear of a vasectomy would have it, we did indeed have four. For the most part, our kids are friends and certainly devote a lot of time to talking about how incredibly annoying their parents are. It must be great for them.
Sometimes I look at them and remember when I was like my pregnant friend, unable to imagine how I could possibly, ever, love another child as much as I loved my first child. So in the wee hours of the morning, before heading to the hospital in labor I whispered to my sleeping two-year-old, “I’m sorry.” Yes, I apologized to my first child for giving birth to my second! It seems so unfair to the second child and it was so untrue. I wasn’t sorry I was having him. And I wasn’t sorry I’d given her a sibling. Of course, I adored him heart and soul immediately. And my first child loved him too when she wasn’t hating him.
I often watch my children interact (with some envy) and see how their relationships with each other morph and change over the years. They all have different relationships and roles with each other. Most of the time, they probably don’t consider each other much of a gift. But they are, providing playmates, confidants, and exercises in all sorts of life skills.
So I take back the apology I made to my daughter 20 years ago. I had more than enough love to go around. And I gave them each other.
this is so beautifully written and i appreciate the honesty in it. i am a bit nervous about introducing another child into the mix bc i am having so much fun with miss ramona and am a little worried how a little squish is going to change our dynamic! however, i know that what these two siblings will do for each other will be immense. thanks, courtney!
today’s toiletry tuesday is brought to you by me dear friend, seabron, a skin-care professional who also happens to be the woman who gave me my first bikini wax(!). her skin is flawless–think porcelain doll with perfectly pink cheeks. and while some of it may be genetic, she’s also been diligent about taking good care of it and educating others on how to do the same. i invited her here to share some of her secrets on accessible, everyday ways we can (and should!) be taking care of our skin. take it away, seabron…
Since becoming a skin care therapist, I have loved learning about how we can keep our skin looking young without invasive procedures. A huge component of this is making sure we choose ingredients in our products that combat the very things that make our skin age. Here are five reasons why our skin ages and five all-star anti-aging ingredients you should look for when choosing your products.
1. free radicals || ingredient that works: green/white tea || Dermalogica Antioxidant Hydramist
Free radicals are unstable molecules that have lost an electron. To make up for the lost electron, they steal one from other nearby molecules leading to a cascade of oxidative damage that ultimately leads to early aging. It’s like an apple slice being left on a counter; over several hours we see it turn brown due to oxygen exposure. Antioxidants are able to stabilize free radicals by donating the missing electron to the molecule. Green and white teas have a huge concentration of polyphenols that quench free radicals.
2. slow cell renewal and turnover || ingredient that works: lactic acid || Philosophy Miracle Worker Miraculous Anti-Aging Lactic Acid Cleanser
We start to lose 1% of our collagen from our dermis (the deepest layer of skin) every year after age 30. In addition to that (as if it’s not sad enough) our cell turnover slows down. Slow cell turnover leads to a buildup of dead skin cells and gives us a dull lackluster appearance. Lactic acid is able to dissolve the “glue” that holds the dead cells together, effectively exfoliating them off. Lactic acid is also less irritating than other alpha-hydroxy acids (like glycolic acid) and inhibits melanin to reduce the appearance of age or sun spots.
3. slowed collagen synthesis || ingredient that works: retinol || Image Ageless Total Retinol A Crème
I like to use the mattress analogy when thinking about collagen. When we are young, our mattress is plump, has resistance and is even on the surface. As we age, collagen and elastin get cross-linked and production slows down resulting in a lumpy uneven mattress (think: wrinkles). Retinol is derived from Vitamin A and when applied topically, activates collagen-producing fibroblasts in our dermis.
4. dehydration || ingredient that works: hyaluronic acid || Dermae Hydrating Night Crème with Hyaluronic Acid
Dehydration is a simple lack of water in our skin. When our skin is dehydrated it may feel tight, rough and become easily irritated and inflamed. There are many people who think they have “sensitive skin” who are mistaking that uncommon skin condition for chronic dehydration. I see dehydrated skin in 4 out of 5 clients (this dry Colorado climate is partly to blame!) Hyaluronic Acid holds 1000 times its weight in water, plumping the deeper tissues in our dermis and keeping that hydration there. (editor’s note: i have the day creme pictured above. the night creme looks exactly the same. i didn’t catch it until publication and i’m not changing it so deal).
5. sun exposure || ingredient that works: sunscreen || CeraVe Broad Spectrum Face Lotion SPF 50
This. Is. So. Important. It does not matter what the weather is like or if you’re going to be inside all day, or if you think you don’t have a tendency to burn. You must wear sunscreen. Unfortunately, incidences of skin cancer are going up and it is our duty to pass on healthy sun habits to our friends, family and younger generations. Physical sunscreens use natural minerals (like zinc and titanium) to block and reflect UVA and UVB rays on the surface of the skin. Chemical sunscreens act as a sponge, absorbing rays and converting them to less damaging radiation. Chemical sunscreens are fine if tolerated well, but are more likely to irritate the skin and are not immediately active (they take about 20 minutes to start working). Whatever you choose, make sure it says “broad spectrum” and get out there and practice safe sun!
seabron works at m.pulse at the cherry creek. if your skin needs a pick-me-up, contact them for an appointment and request seabron!
apropos of our trip to the western slope last weekend, i’m delighted to have a guest post by my dear friend, jill, who lives in glenwood springs, a town you couldn’t miss if you’re traveling to the western slope or aspen. jill is a dear friend of mine from college, my roommate at my first apartment in the city, the lady who showed me all the treasures there are to explore in chicago, and the one who taught me how to navigate public transportation gracefully and safely while inebriated. i’m also honored to have had her as one of the amazing women who stood up as a bridesmaid at our wedding. in her post today, jill explains her transition from a big city to a small mountain town. it is an extremely interesting read, even to me, because this girl, as she explains, loves chicago more than anyone i know.
——————————————————————————————————
Two years ago, my husband and I came plummeting over Vail Pass in an 18-foot moving truck, towing our Jeep behind us. Two weeks prior, I had been offered my dream job after what felt like an eternity of searching. The catch: said dream job was located in Glenwood Springs, Colorado (population 9,614), literally a thousand miles away from anything I considered to be, well, normal.
A self-professed city girl, I had spent the past six years of my life living and breathing everything CHICAGO. My passion for that city literally had no limits – my husband will not-so-gladly tell you that I basically refused to get married until he was able to move in to the city from the suburbs, because I simply wouldn’t budge. The diversity, the opportunity, the music, the architecture, the FOOD, the cacophony… good god, it was glorious! Every last bit of it. Over those six years of city living, I had lived in nine apartments – all in different neighborhoods – constantly moving and experiencing different corners of the city that I loved.
And then came the day for my friends to help us pack up the last moving truck that would carry us West, into an unknown, and an entirely new adventure.
There are a lot of adjustments one has to make when moving from a city of 2.7 million people to a town of less than 10,000. For example, there are no amazing Puerto Rican salons that can actually deal with my untamable hair. I can count the number of decent restaurants in this whole valley on two hands – maybe one. Want to find a home to rent? You pretty much have two options… in the whole town. You generally don’t have to worry about your bike being lifted or you car broken into… unless you’re car camping, and a bear wants to get at your cooler. Don’t even think about going to the grocery store and not running into someone you know. One day running errands, I ran into the same friend four times at four different locations. Anonymity is just not an option here.
It took about a year for me to notice that this place was changing me. When you don’t have thousands of options of where to shop, where to eat, where to drink, who to meet, life becomes a lot more… simple. Instead of rushing out to try “the next big hot spot” (because those don’t exist), my husband and I spend our weekends charting out new trails to hoof in these amazing mountains. We learn to cook our favorite ethnic dishes and invite friends over to eat with us. Fashion trends literally do not exist in this town, so I’ve essentially let that part of my life go and regularly rotate about five outfits. I can bike to work in 10 minutes flat, and so much of my life has been reclaimed by not having to sit in traffic to go anywhere.
I must confess that on my last trip to Chicago, when out to a very fancy meal in one of the city’s hottest neighborhoods, I felt a bit like a bumpkin. I had borrowed one of my best friend’s dresses to wear out that night, because I had packed the same dress from Target that I have owned for (at least) the past four years. I didn’t know that this restaurant had been featured in Bon Appetit Magazine as one of the most important restaurants in America – information I seriously prided myself on knowing in my Chicago days. On the cab ride to the restaurant, I couldn’t stop staring up like a tourist at the towering buildings – and gasping every time the driver cut someone off in traffic. I’m accustomed to moving at a much slower pace now.
There are things about my Chicago-ness that I will never let go of, and are very un-bumpkin. I will forever celebrate diversity and remain open-minded. I will always favor walking or taking public transportation over driving a car. And, should a new restaurant ever open in Glenwood Springs, you can be certain I’ll still be the first to review it on Yelp. But the parts of me that have turned bumpkin, those which I embrace: not caring about trends, not feeling pressured to be in a rat race over my career, not spending every last dime on fancy food and drink, staying in more than going out, favoring the outdoors, growing my own food, enjoying an unspoiled landscape that stretches for miles, having conversations in quiet and uninterrupted spaces. It’s peaceful here, and this has allowed my husband and I the time and space to get to know ourselves better, and grow. We hope to continue to grow into this mountain lifestyle for many, many years to come. I guess I really am a city girl, converted.
Thank you, Emily, for allowing me the space on your blog to process some of these ponderings and sharing some thoughts from over the mountain.
That was then. Chicago winters were real rough.
This is now. Free to roam in the wide open spaces.
this week’s contributor is from lashley rhodes, a local denver photographer (among other things) and one of my best friends. i knew our friendship was meant to be when she chopped off all her hair as, i must confess, i’ve always been a little suspicious of long-haired women who freak out about taking off a couple of inches. it’s just hair and it grows! (this, of course, coming from me who has absolutely no success in healthily growing my hair even to my shoulders.) here lashley talks about what she discovered about herself after she went short short short.
|| In college, I had some adventuresome strip-mall cut and color combos, but only after moving to Denver did I really start playing with different ways to wear my hair. For about seven years, it was a series of variations on a bob. After my wedding last year, though, I took the plunge and went super short. Here are some things I’ve learned about myself since then.
1. I am not as progressive as I’d like to think.
I live in Colorado. I love all sorts of different humans and love real love between any two of them. I voted to legalize recreational marijuana, for goodness sake. But look like a boy or, heavens, a lesbian? Can’t do it. I’m not even sure what it means to “look like a lesbian,” but if I put together an outfit and the thought crosses my mind, that outfit gets rejected. My hair is shorter than my husband’s, but I still want to look feminine in the most annoying, gender-binary-driven, traditional way. I’m not sure how to interpret this tidbit except maybe to show some grace to those who seem forever stuck in the social dark ages. We all need a little nudge to keep moving forward.
2. The grass will always seem greener.
I absolutely know deep down in my very soul of souls that I do not miss the squinty, sweaty face I’d get when blow drying my long bob. But, oh, to have long, soft waves that catch the light just so. Or a top knot. Side braids, an ombre dye job, strong, face-framing bangs. Le sigh.
3. This too shall pass, but in the meantime, you gotta commit.
Whining and marinating in ambivalence aren’t going to get me anywhere. Spray that faux pompadour into place or wrap a scarf around and go, but do something and quit staring at the mirror with that look on your face, Rhodes. ||
sheesh, she’s adorable. thanks, lashley. what honesty, insight ,and humor you bring to a decision that seems to hold so much weight, especially for the ladies. i applaud you’re “going for it” and, girl, you wear it so so well.
if you are interested in contributing to A Denver Home Companion, please submit original writing (or ideas!) to emily [at] adenverhomecompanion [dot] com. though i may not be able to publish everything, i certainly consider all of them.
this week’s contributor is april from our ship on the sea, a husband & wife writing/photography/videoography/event planning power team (and that’s just what they do for fun!). april approached me, curious if i’d be interested in a post about her experience with the unexpected things that happen after babies are born — the stuff they don’t necessarily tell you about and the stuff new parents often find themselves unprepared for; the stuff we often don’t talk about with everyone who asks us how wonderful, albeit tiring, our life with new baby must be. yes! i said. of course! mamas need to hear about other mamas’ struggles: it helps us feel less alone and can sometimes put our own struggles in perspective. it also can open up relationships to work through issues together and find support. read on!
The Unexpected
Even before she was born, Annie was unpredictable. At 38 weeks my doctor told us that she would be arriving within days (!!!) and to get everything in order. Jeremy and I rushed home, finished the last of the nursery preparation, I went on maternity leave, and my parents arrived flew in. Two long weeks later… the day my parents had to leave to go back to Nashville, I went into labor at the Denver Biscuit Company. (You better believe I stayed and ate the entire cinnamon roll). The doctor predicted a 9 to 10 pound baby. Annie was born at a sweet little 6 lbs 13 oz.
We prepared well to bring our baby home, but we weren’t prepared for a few things that followed once we got there:
We weren’t prepared for breastfeeding not to work out for me. I mean- I took classes! And watched DVDs! And had THREE books! That preparation and multiple lactation consultants couldn’t help the range of issues I experienced. I just finished nearly 7 exhausting months of pumping. I didn’t even get the chance to make anyone uncomfortable from breastfeeding in public. : )
We weren’t prepared for our baby to have severe colic. When she started crying for hours every night at three weeks old we assumed it was gas or just typical evening fussiness. By the third day we realized we were in for weeks of what we called “Scream Fest 2012”. Annie would start crying at 5 pm and end around 11. We did everything imaginable to make it stop. One exhausting Friday night we put Annie in the car around midnight to get her to stop crying. It worked! But then we were too afraid to stop driving. We drove around our downtown neighborhood until 2 am looking at all the couples out on dates, laughing and holding hands, probably all a little sauced. I wanted to scream “OH YOU JUST WAIT.”
After the colic stopped, we weren’t prepared for the chronic congestion to begin. It’s common for young babies to be congested, but when it didn’t stop, we knew something bigger had to be going on. We took Annie to the pediatrician more times than I can count, Urgent Care twice, and the ER on multiple occasions when her breathing was so labored that she refused to eat or sleep. No one seemed to find anything wrong, but as her parents, we knew there was an issue. It was heartbreaking and we felt defeated. Finally, an Ear, Nose, and Throat doctor confirmed what I already assumed- her adenoids we’re blocking her airway so severely that she struggled to breathe and eat, thus making quality sleep a joke… a super NOT funny joke. In six months time Annie had only slept for more than three hours ONCE. Thankfully, the end of the sleeping/eating issues is in sight – Annie is having her adenoids removed next month and we expect her issues to almost fully resolve. YAY!
Either most new parents really do have few issues, or those who do simply don’t talk about it. Well, I really wanted, maybe even needed, to talk about it. I thank Emily for giving me the space to do so, and I hope that someone out there finds this helpful. I want to share some of our own lessons learned, thoughts, and internet love with those who might be struggling:
Ask for help. Since Annie’s birth, Jeremy and I have had three dates. One given to us by friends for three hours, a quick dinner date, and a movie. I take responsibility for this because I didn’t feel comfortable burdening anyone. Looking back- what a ridiculous thought. So many people who love us were willing to help, and we could have used the time alone together. So- ask for help! If your friends offer, take them up on it – that very week! If your family lives out if town- show weakness! Say- “Um yeah… we’re LOSING IT OVER HERE, please come help. Thanks!” Most likely those new grandparents will be thrilled you asked and will get on that plane if they are able to.
Talk about it. Your honesty allows others to be free in sharing their own hardships. My greatest comfort in low moments has been finding those who will simply say “I know. It sucks. It will get better.”
Learn to let go and do what you need to do to get through it. Don’t beat yourself up over getting delivery because you’re just too exhausted to even think about turning on the stove. The same with the housework – nothing matters more than your well-being, especially not mopping. I wish we would’ve been more open to letting go of some things that weren’t working. Was giving Annie breastfeeding ideal? Yes. But should I have considered giving it up at the extreme point of exhaustion while Annie was sick and not eating any way? Yes- I should have been open to formula.
Give yourself the ultimate gift: Stop comparing yourself to others. When those well meaning friends with dream babies who sleep through the night at 3 weeks old (I hear these mystical babies exist?) start to offer advice about your difficult baby- it’s ok to stop them mid-sentence and say “We’ve actually tried it all.” and get off the phone. I’m not suggesting being rude, but if you have to hear another unhelpful suggestion again you might lose it even more severely. (So hey dream baby parents- it really is awesome that you’re having an ideal experience. Really- no sarcasm! It’s awesome! But your friends aren’t and they are struggling. So consider *not* offering advice. Instead say “What can we do to help?” Better yet- don’t even ask- just do it. Bring a meal over or take their baby for a walk and let your friends have an hour alone.)
With all this said, we didn’t expect that we’d be so happy to spend our weekends laying on the floor with Annie, singing songs and reading books. The delight in her laughs, the feel of her little hands rubbing over my cheeks and my husband’s beard – the best! Tonight we all sat together on the floor with baby sized instruments and had a mini-family band for a few precious minutes. I never expected to pray for time to stand still, even for just small moments like these.
-April Powell
P.S. I hesitated writing this post because I didn’t want to sound ungrateful. We recognize how fortunate we are. We have a happy baby girl, and her health issues can be fixed. We are lucky- we know this. However, when you’re in the muck, it all becomes relative. To those who might be struggling – I’m wrapping my arms around you in a huge internet hug. It gets better- I’ll swear on it.
thank you so so much, april. your honesty is brave and important. and i have no doubt this will have been something someone needed to read. parenthood is not easy. but its trials, as much as its blessings, need to be talked about amongst other parents and community members so that we can learn from and support those going through what all parents have gone through. (and how beautiful is that family?!)
if you are interested in contributing to A Denver Home Companion, please submit original writing (or ideas!) to emily [at] adenverhomecompanion [dot] com. though i may not be able to publish everything, i certainly consider all of them.
welcome
"Unknown Twitter error." — eopower
