Fight Robots Not Babies

Have you ever seen the movie “The Incredibles” or its sequel?


If so, you might understand what I mean when I say kids are like the giant robot Mr. Incredible faces when he is unknowingly working for Syndrome. 


What a statement. Where am I even going with this?


The robot in the movie is programmed to get smarter over time, so the longer someone fights it, the greater the chance the robot will learn how to defeat its opponent. More time makes for improved learning and understanding.


Kids are the same way.


Well, except for the part where we’re not trying to shut them down before they kill us. Except for those days…you know the ones.


And all the parents said, “We do.”


Here’s what I mean: as kids grow, they learn more. They observe more. They take in their surroundings on a deeper level with newer understanding. While they are not working to put their parents out of commission, they are making incredible strides of knowledge every day. Some of those gains are easier to celebrate than others (haha), but all are victories of growth and learning. 


Playing with the sound machine is fun. I cannot reach it where it currently sits. Hmm, maybe I’ll pull on the wire. Oh look, it fell down! Now I can turn it on by myself.


I’d really like to go outside, but Mom is sitting on the couch. I know! If I bring her shoes to her, maybe she’ll take me outside. As I meet new people, I must pay attention to their shoes so I can tell them I want to go outside.


The place my mom puts things into in the kitchen and they come out as bread or treats I’ve learned is hot. I know what going to the corner means. I’m learning that hot also applies to candles, fire, even the kind on the TV. 


And the list could continue.


So what’s the good news? 


Unlike the robot - who forces the “Supers” to work tirelessly to dismantle it and keep themselves safe - kids are not simply learning to make things worse. 


The longer they have to learn, the more of a person they become. While there are certainly things Liam has figured out that I’d prefer he not know how to do yet, I also love watching the sponge-like process of absorption as he figures out more of his world. 


All this to say, “The Incredibles” robot and kids. Same thing.


Well, sort of.


PS Liam and Jack-Jack looked uncannily similar. Anyone else agree?

On Breastfeeding

April 7, 2020 to July 20, 2021.


439 days, roughly 15.5 months, spanning ages 28, 29, and 30.


That’s how long Liam and I spent in the breastfeeding season. 


We did feedings in a car, a plane, a boat in Michigan, in the middle of a mountain on a hike, a Dunkin drivethrough...the list could go on, we ventured into many territories. The beauty of having the food source easily accessible and on the go.


With pregnancy and breastfeeding included, my body was busy sustaining both itself and another life for roughly two straight years. (And I wonder why my emotions were a bit of a roller coaster during that time... #hormones) I’m grateful my body was able to produce breastmilk, the miracle substance, to sustain Liam for so long. I know not everyone is able to do that, and so, I’m extremely grateful.


If you had told me before giving birth how long we might go, I think I would have been shocked. Truthfully, I was more worried about the pain and challenges of breastfeeding than I was birth...until it came time to go to the hospital and the reality of getting the baby out of my body became inescapable. Ha.


On day two of Liam’s life, while still recovering from the C-section, learning to breastfeed, feeling sore everywhere, experiencing little contractions as the breastfeeding stimulated the shrinking of my uterus back to normal sizes (a brilliant system but like, ouch), and having not yet taken the good drugs for the pain, there was a moment I was walking around the hospital room in tears. Ronny, the kind man that he is, gently said it was OK for me to be frustrated, even frustrated with Liam because it was all so new and challenging. It was very kind to hear.


We came a long way, and life improved with more painkillers. All I can say to my fellow C-section ladies is, take the drugs, the good ones. Trust me.


Just as my body healed and adapted after birth, my relationship and experience with breastfeeding changed over time. 


For whatever reason, my body was very good at producing milk. One time I pumped 14 ounces which meant I lost almost a pound in 30 minutes! What even? Apart from two doses of formula in the hospital to make sure his blood sugars were fine, my body was solely responsible for providing Liam with nutrients for many months. In retrospect, that is insane to think about! Not only that, but breastmilk adapts to what the baby needs if they’re sick, can help heal scratches on skin, and so much more. Wild!


When I consider the hours a day I spent feeding him in the beginning of his life to the total of five to ten minutes at the end of this breastfeeding season, it’s no wonder my perspective changed.


New mothers are cows. 


There’s just no other way around it. You exist to produce milk to sustain the little life that was recently being cared for inside your body but is now outside.


Even with getting Liam on a predictable schedule, there were still times where I felt like I couldn’t even get an hour of time away before he woke up from a nap (that 45-minute intruder business took some sorting out...if you know you know). For the first few weeks, I wouldn’t wear a shirt while I fed him. Clothing just felt like too much to deal with while I was trying to figure it out.


This verse was significant for me both during pregnancy and breastfeeding. A living sacrifice indeed.


I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.

Romans 12:1


The first time I fed him in “public” was at a house church not too far into the beginnings of covid. I brought one of those covers and tried feeding him in a chair in the living room with everyone else. I kept popping my head up through the hole and tucking it back down. In addition to providing plenty of entertainment for everyone there, my hair looked as good as you might expect.


The ability to produce well, coupled with my, at times, obsessive intentionality to ensure my supply did not drop, meant the decision to stop breastfeeding was one I got to make rather than having it be made for me. I was definitely sad and drug my feet about concluding it because I kind of hoped I would get pregnant and have the decision made for me so I could avoid walking into grief. In praying through it with the Lord, He told me I needed to embrace walking into some grieving of the ending of one season, to conclude this season well before stepping into the next. 


The bittersweet nature of motherhood and parenting started early. 


And all the parents said, “It goes so fast.”


It’s been two and half weeks since we stopped, and apart from the buildup of deciding when to be done and a brief cry after the last feeding, I don’t think either Liam or I have missed it much. Truthfully, I’m not sure he even noticed the change because I intentionally stopped before we were away from home and out of our routine for a week and a half. 


It was time to finish and enter a new season of bonding. 


Coming to the decision to choose the last day took me a while. It wasn’t necessarily because I loooved breastfeeding, but rather I felt sentimental about the season passing. Liam and I would not ever go back to that time. It’s unique, but it’s also meant to be temporary.


There are definitely things I won’t miss. One of my least favorite parts of it was when he got teeth and had a day of biting me. Well, two feedings to be more specific. We had some intense fellowship involving me flicking his mouth following a bite, his lip slowly starting to quiver as he realized what happened, and then I think we both cried. Ronny, not realizing a flick had already happened, sealed the deal with an additional flick in defense of me, so it was just all-around not great for any of us. Mama was not down with biting. Ugh, I was sweating all over during the feed following the first time he bit me. Yikes.


I won’t miss having stains on the sheets because I leaked or having to figure out where to pump if I wasn’t going to be with him during a feeding time or just needing to wear pads for the surprise let down or how frequently he needed to eat from me.


The first time he slept for a seven-hour stretch, I still woke up ready to feed because my body had obviously not yet adapted. It was a strange feeling to realize we made it. Also, ironic that when your baby does finally go for a long stretch, you are likely not able to yourself because of the full factor. It’s incredible that your body can pretty quickly learn to maintain a milk supply but not produce overnight. The entire system is a miracle.


I won’t miss using a washcloth to desperately try to keep him awake for a feed.


Travel, in the early days, was a lot. We did several long roadtrips where I would pump while using a bottle thermos to heat up stored milk in a cooler. It was a time that I can think back on with some degree of fondness but am also very OK having it be simpler. At least, feeding him is simpler haha.


I’m not sure if I’ll miss the food source switch or not. There was a clear shift from “oh there’s mama” to me morphing into a boob. It’s like those cartoons where someone is so hungry the thing in front of them turns into a food item. Yeah, I was the food item. The switch was usually followed by a lot of whining and then the satisfying relief sounds when he was allowed to start eating. This process was often catalyzed at nighttime when I would sit down in the nursing rocking chair while Ronny changed him into his pajamas.


There are, of course, things I’ll miss, things only I experienced with him in his lifetime. 


Hearing the sound of him drinking, for someone who does not like very many sounds, was something special. I feel the same way when he drinks a bottle now. He had a funny habit of putting his foot in my face or having one leg up while nursing, but also very much did not want me to be touching him. He’d go so far as to kick my arm, my bicep specifically, to get me to move it. 


Letdown is such an odd sensation to describe...like spidery veins being filled up. I came to like it, especially because it let me know things were moving. Having it happen outside of feeding wasn’t always ideal, but hey, you learn. My grandma, Nini, had the advice to wear patterned shirts when you’re a new mom. Lots of wisdom in that because few things are more awkward than having a solid colored shirt on and a nice leak spot for all to see. 


Pumping provided such a feeling of relief, specifically early on when your body is cranking out supply. It’s truly THE BEST. The longer we went the more efficient Liam became and the less I enjoyed the pump, but having a feeding off to pump in the early weeks was a dream.


A mixed bag is whether I’ll miss the equipment involved - nursing chair, Boppys, pump, milk storage bags, cleaning everything, cooler, bottle thermos, etc. OK, I probably won’t miss that.


Just as I changed throughout, so did he. He started signaling all done once he learned how. I’ll never forget the snatch and latch to start. Goodness, it was excellent when he became skilled at nursing! Him playing with my mouth and reaching up was sweet. So were all the selfies we took.


Looking back, my favorite feedings were in the middle of the night when the world was quiet. I’d take selfies with Liam and send them to Ronny to wake up to several hours later. We took LOTS.


One funny routine I developed was to play a song on our google speaker from my phone in Liam’s room to let Ronny know we were finished. It was birthed out of Ronny not having his phone near him one time so I had to figure out a way of getting his attention without leaving Liam’s room. The result? I played “Shut Up and Dance with Me” and picked new songs going forward. We called them summoning songs. Hilarious and effective. 


Finally, one big piece of the breastfeeding journey I’ll cherish was the community of moms I had at the time. Three other couples had their sons within a month of us having Liam (one of them shared our duedate and another had a Liam of their own). It was incredible comforting to wake up for the middle of the night feeding and have texts from them because they were awake as well. What a gift. I realize you cannot control if you’ll be pregnant at the same time as other people in your community, but if you’re able to find that, 10/10 would recommend.


Like anything in life, breastfeeding has both positives and challenges. I’m grateful my experience had far more positives to it, but also, that the season was temporary.


To the women out there deciding if it’s right for them, do it. It’s amazing and worth the sacrifice. Say no to nipple shields if you can help it. Find a husband like mine who was so encouraging. He was the one to suggest I take a feeding off to pump while he gave Liam a bottle so I could get a break. Praise the Lord.


If you’re not able to, hey, a fed baby is a happy baby. You have to do what’s right for you, your baby, and the life rhythm of your family. Either way, if you want suggestions, we followed the Preparation for Parenting sleep training schedule, and it made a HUGE difference because we went in with a plan on how to go about it. Liam dropped the middle of the night feeding between two and three months. He’s very predictable with sleep. We actually never lost an entire night of sleep! Our only really bad night was our first night home from the hospital, and we still got several hours of sleep even with that.


All that to say, breastfeeding was worth it for me. I’m grateful my son and I were able to share that time together. I’m grateful I got to care for him that way, to be his mom. 


The good news is, I’m still his mom. He may not need me the same way, which is a relieving and sad thing, but we get to move into a new chapter.


Throughout the conclusion of this season and subsequent processing, this verse stuck with me:



But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me.

Psalm 131:2


Honestly, I think my soul calmed and quieted once I got my head wrapped around the decision to finish breastfeeding. It’s a beautiful, stretching, and temporary time.


Liam, we did it. I want you to know that I wanted to soak everything I could out of that time with you because I knew it wasn’t forever. I wanted to fully embrace that time before saying yes to a new season with you, with our family, and before you get any siblings. You are a sweet boy, and you were more than worth it all.

PS Mooooooo. 

Growing Plants, Growing Humans

The plant parent craze is alive and well.


It rings true that the plant lady is the new cat lady.


To be honest, as far as trends go, this one feels like it has far more positives than negatives associated with it. What a win.


I’m a mom of one son and countless plant children.


It’s gotten me thinking about the similarities between kids and plants.


There’s the obvious in that they have to be intentionally cared for, fed, and watered. They need the right kind of attention and environment. Each kid or type of plant has different needs.


More than that, their growth happens before our very eyes.


New growth on plants is the brightest. Just look around in the spring and summer seasons and you’ll notice portions of plants that are brighter than the rest. The new growth stands out.


The same is true for kids, especially babies and toddlers. I can tangibly see differences in my son.


He’s starting to very clearly respond to instruction and takes great pleasure in “put that back,” “close that please,” and “go find your books.” 


We’ve also ushered in the walking season. He is taking increasingly longer journeys on his feet before resorting to crawling. Walking is slow, crawling is fast.


Much like we notice that bright green growth on plants, the new skill or development stands out and is focused on the most in that moment.


So really, plants and babies are the exact same.


OK, well, they do have some similarities. Regardless, proud plant mom and even prouder human mom over here.

Village Culture

It takes a village.


Raising a child is not just the work of the parents. It’s the work of a village. 


The older my son gets, the more I understand this concept. 


Parents need help from their community. What I’ve realized more recently is that they create and set the culture of the “village” around their child. 


Yes, that can look like bigger things such as what your child eats, who they spend time with, how much interaction they have with screens, etc etc.


But it can also show up in little ways.


When Liam was a few days old, we had pictures taken for the grandparents (and us) since no one could visit right away with the pandemic happening. Our photographer referred to Liam as the squishy boy.


The name stuck.


We use it often, to the point where he hears “squish” or “da squish” more than his given name. 


Others have started calling him “squish” as well. Some have adapted it to “squishy.”


It warms my heart every time.


What a small yet profound example of creating culture. 


For those of you with kids (or just friends), what does the culture of the village around you look like? Is there anything you need to change or add?


They Are Watching

Here’s a cute story with a simple yet profound lesson:

Recently, we’ve begun feeding Liam, our five-month-old, cereal several times a day. Those first few times were a struggle. Learning how to open your mouth, receive a spoon, and resisting the tongue thrust reflex to push the food back out with your tongue are all difficult things! We are very clearly not born knowing how to do them.

As the weeks have progressed, clear improvement has taken place, to the point where Liam sits with his mouth open to signal he is ready for his next bite. He understands his hands need to stay down and away from the spoon (with occasional reminders, of course) and the eating cereal experience has become much more pleasant all around, for the feeder and eater alike. 

The other evening, Ronny (my husband) and I were sharing some dairy-free ice cream (any other breastfeeding moms try to cut out dairy too?). We were passing the spoon back and forth, or rather, I was getting bites and handing them to Ronny as he lay on the couch with Liam on his chest.

During one of the handoffs, I looked up to see Liam sitting with his mouth open, waiting for a bite. 

It was adorable.

Also, it was incredible to realize that even though words are not part of his abilities yet, he is still able to ask for something. Human development is wild.

One thing stuck out to me about the interaction. Apart from being one of the cutest and sweetest things he’s done, it reminded me that he is watching. He is capable of learning and is watching us as he learns. 

Countless times throughout the day I’ll look over and find he’s been staring at me without my being aware.

He is watching. 

So the question becomes, what is he seeing? 

What am I, as his parent, demonstrating in my day-to-day activities that he is learning from? My hope is most of those things are good, but I’m certain I could improve (and will always be in that process). 

Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it. 

Proverbs 22:6

More often than not, that training is done unintentionally, in moments when you’re not even aware you’re teaching your child something. They’re watching. What is it that they’re learning as they watch?

For those non-parents out there, this goes beyond influencing a child. What is your influence? Who are you influencing? When people are watching, what are they learning from and about you? This idea really applies to all of us. 

Let’s be the type of people who carry a positive influence.