Photo by Phanlop 88 at www.freedigitalphotos.net
He’s banging his hands on the tray table. Stay calm, show no fear. Throwing his hands up in the air as he wails in anger. Stay calm, show no fear. Then suddenly, his screaming halts for a brief second as he smiles furtively. Stay calm, show no fear. Both of his hands, covered with mushy fruit, come together for a clap but his mouth stays clamped together. Stay calm, show no fear.
I make some funny whirling sounds in an attempt to coax a laugh out of him. As he giggles at the sight of Mommy making airplane noises, his mouth opens slowly and I shove the spoon into his mouth. Alas, on my way there, he has spotted my planned trajectory, and steered me away with the whip of his back hand. How is he so strong at only 9 months old?!
I tell myself one more time: Stay calm, show no fear. And this time, for the first time, I am indeed calm and without fear because I have waved my white flag of surrender, and there’s nothing to be scared of anymore. And then, like clockwork, I’m hit in the face with the mush leftover from his mouth that he catapults onto me.
Something you should know about me: I overload on subscriptions to all the baby newsletters. That said, I know week-by-week the anticipated developmental milestones my son should be reaching. As my firstborn, he is subject to my earnest scrutiny and overbearing first-time mother ways.
Being told my son was 15th percentile for weight and 65th percentile for height was something I did not expect at his nine-month appointment. The doctor tells me I must feed him 6 ounces of formula three times a day along with two snacks. So now, instead of letting him decide when he’s full, I have to do whatever I can to force-feed him the prescribed amounts, which has brought me to my current predicament.
Try as I might to relax and be brave, I am riddled with fear and emotional despair. I chose to be a mother and yet, I cannot even seem to do that right. I feel the disappointing judgment from all the mothers I know who must be wondering why I’m starving my child. If only they could see how hard it actually is to feed him! Because it is so unbelievably hard! Then again, if I’m having these thoughts now with one child at nine months, how will I do this again with the four other children I dream of having one day?
I sigh. I’m sitting in front of my son, who is covered with the mush he won’t eat. But the doctor has insisted I make him take it, so I do what any sane, normal mother would do. Give up? Cry? Yell? No…instead, I take a deep breath and do the unthinkable. I lick some of the enemy’s weapon off my face, and laugh back at him. And the wicked laugh somehow turns into a natural, easygoing one.
My son, noting my facial expression changing from the stern, emotionless one I had a second ago, is now hysterical with more laughter. And all of a sudden, the obnoxious banging and screaming from just a few seconds ago is a drum roll to accompany his cheerful, giddy screams of joy. And we laugh together, me at the utter ridiculousness of the entire situation—him at this weird person that is laughing uncontrollably at him.
Motherhood continues to humble me daily. Right when I think I have seen the biggest blowout ever, my son decides to surprise me with yet another bigger and bolder one less than an hour later. Right when I think it can’t get any more disgusting, my son spits up while I’m bench pressing him, creating the perfect path for spit-up into my mouth. And right when I think I’ve got the nursing thing down, and am able to multi-task with my free hand, nursing becomes anarchic as he makes his way into solids.
And so, with all my might, I now know to greet the unexpected with a smile and a good attitude and let it continue to humble me. I know I have lots to learn; my son never fails to teach me that. If I will just be patient and face the unknown with courage and a positive attitude, all will be okay. And if not, at least it will be hilarious in retrospect. It always seems to be.
QUESTION: Can you think of a moment where you showed no fear, but probably could have showed a sense of humor instead?
CHALLENGE: Value those moments noted by jotting them down so you can look back on it in the future and laugh.
—
Daisy, it’s so fun to read your article on here! Learning to laugh is such a skill. I’m thrilled that you’re learning to do it right now. I think that I laugh a lot more when I’m well-rested. 🙂
Miss you!
I don’t normally post or comment on people’s posts, but I have to say this hit me so hard that tears came to my eyes. I have an 8 month old and to say I am humbled daily is an understatement. Thank you so much for posting this and being so honest – I feel so many times that I am alone in my struggles of first time motherhood. My favorite line – “Then again, if I’m having these thoughts now with one child at nine months, how will I do this again with the four other children I dream of having one day?” I don’t have an exact number in my dreams, but I do know I wish for more yet constantly worry that I am not cut out for this and doubt my abilities to handle multiple children. Thanks again!
As a mother of 5 I must say that the anxiety lessens with each child. You begin to realize how resilient children are and you learn to relax a bit. You learn that kids eat when they are hungry and that Mommy trying to make them eat is super entertaining! Motherhood is hard and stressful, but it is also joyful and amazing!
I’m with you. It’s one of the reasons I waited so long to have kids. I don’t like to be humiliated 🙂
I do have a question though. Aren’t percentiles just the range of all kids? Some will be at the top and some at the bottom. So it just means that he is heavier than 15% of 9 month olds and lighter than 85%. But if he’s otherwise fine, pees/poops enough, happy and otherwise healthy, is there really a problem?
I’m not sure Kelly – but I think the fact that he is 15% weight and 95% height made the doctor more concerned. He is a tall skinny baby and he is not eating well again. It is really frustrating and I am at my wits end trying to figure out what to feed him!
Your artical touched me – At my daughter’s 12 month appointment I was told she was in the 40th percentile for height and 5th percentile for weight. She hadn’t really gained more than a pound or two since her 9 month appointment. The doctor asked me to bring her back in one month for a weight check. I was so upset. My beautiful girl is very active. She started cruising at 9 months and started walking at 11 months. She is smart and she is not all that thin – she’s got a round little belly on her. But the doctor’s concern scared me. I wondered how I could get this baby to eat more. Then I was introduced to “Child of Mine” by Ellyn Satter. I highly recommend it. But I will tell you the main concept – there is a division of responsibility when it comes to feeding. You as the mother are responsible for the what, when, and where of FEEDING. Your baby is responsible for the how much and wether of EATING. Her premis is that babies inherently know how much they need to eat and we don’t need to make them eat more or less than they want to. If there is a medical condition that is causing the weight issue, that is another story. But if it is just a matter of percentiles, you may consider reading this book. I hoep you find it as reassuring as I did….
Thank you for all of your kind comments! I’m so glad I’m not alone! I really have no idea what the percentile really means, but when the doctor shows concern, it always frightens me! I’ll check out that book too .. thanks!!