I am becoming obsolete. No longer needed. Yesterday I was highly in demand as a playmate. Today, not so much.
This afternoon, when Abby got up from her nap her first request was to invite a friend over. The friend's mother was happy to send her over and when she arrived the girls took off upstairs. A little while later they came through the kitchen on their way to the basement playroom. The baby watched with interest and then followed them down the stairs. No one cared if I went down or not. I did go down to keep an eye on the baby and was told by Abby "Mommy, you are the monster. I don't want you to see me or talk to me".
Four years old, and already I am not cool enough to hang out with her friends. At least until they wanted a snack anyway.
I have eagerly waited for this day to come. The day when my daughters would happily play on their own, leaving me with just a bit more space for me in our time together, free of guilt. Time that I can use to cook or clean or read or just think. Freedom from the constant whine of mommy- mama-mommmmy and little hands pulling on my legs. The ability to be here for them without being totally consumed by them and their needs.
But like every much anticipated milestone, there is also some sadness. Because increasingly the events that define their days will not involve or be planned by me. Friends and teachers will take center stage. At least for now the baby is still willing to hang out with me. I guess I should play with her while I still can.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Saturday, March 29, 2008
the truth about motherhood?
The great, all powerful truth about motherhood? There is no great, all powerful truth. There are no magic answers. However, there are a few things I wish I had known about motherhood before becoming a mom:
I wish I had been more prepared for the possibility of needing a c-section. Birth plans are nice, but not all problems can be avoided by breathing and using a birthing ball as my child birth class suggested. During my daughters early days, I dealt with sadness and guilt over my failure to have the birth I envisioned, which is now the only regret I have about my birth experience.
I wish I had known how quickly day to day routines would change. What is annoying, frustrating and exhausting one day will change in a few days or weeks. And not because of any magic solution you find, just because children grow and change fast. Your life today will not be your life forever. Strangely enough, the things that have frustrated me the most are also often the things I miss about a particular age.
I wish I had known how helpful it is to find other moms to connect with, online and in real life. Parenting can be lonely, filling even the most confident of us with doubt. The masses of expert advice available in parenting books and magazines, even when intended to be reassuring, only intensified these feelings for me. But as I connected with other parents, I realized that no one else is living up to these standards either. I also realized that "expert" parenting advice is still just advice. At the end of the day, I am the expert on my family.
I wish I had not been so hesitant to ask for help. I was raised to be independent and take care of myself. Dependence on others does not come naturally to me. But slowly I have learned that asking for help is good for me and good for my children. It feels good to have people depend on me and it feels good to have people that I can depend on. Asking for help has enabled my children and I to build stronger bonds with our neighbors. The time my children spend with their grandparents has enabled them to build a close relationship, in addition to helping me. And when we get a chance to help someone in return, it allows me to show my children the importance of helping others.
And finally, I wish I had known that babies should not be awake for more than two hours. If your baby has been awake for 2 hours, you should put it to sleep. I am not much on strict parenting rules of any kind, but this one works like magic.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There’s a lot about motherhood you wish you’d known before becoming a mom. Write about it anytime between now and Sunday, then send a link to your post to PBN. It’s this week’s Blog Blast, sponsored by Discovery Health and their new series “Deliver Me”.
I wish I had been more prepared for the possibility of needing a c-section. Birth plans are nice, but not all problems can be avoided by breathing and using a birthing ball as my child birth class suggested. During my daughters early days, I dealt with sadness and guilt over my failure to have the birth I envisioned, which is now the only regret I have about my birth experience.
I wish I had known how quickly day to day routines would change. What is annoying, frustrating and exhausting one day will change in a few days or weeks. And not because of any magic solution you find, just because children grow and change fast. Your life today will not be your life forever. Strangely enough, the things that have frustrated me the most are also often the things I miss about a particular age.
I wish I had known how helpful it is to find other moms to connect with, online and in real life. Parenting can be lonely, filling even the most confident of us with doubt. The masses of expert advice available in parenting books and magazines, even when intended to be reassuring, only intensified these feelings for me. But as I connected with other parents, I realized that no one else is living up to these standards either. I also realized that "expert" parenting advice is still just advice. At the end of the day, I am the expert on my family.
I wish I had not been so hesitant to ask for help. I was raised to be independent and take care of myself. Dependence on others does not come naturally to me. But slowly I have learned that asking for help is good for me and good for my children. It feels good to have people depend on me and it feels good to have people that I can depend on. Asking for help has enabled my children and I to build stronger bonds with our neighbors. The time my children spend with their grandparents has enabled them to build a close relationship, in addition to helping me. And when we get a chance to help someone in return, it allows me to show my children the importance of helping others.
And finally, I wish I had known that babies should not be awake for more than two hours. If your baby has been awake for 2 hours, you should put it to sleep. I am not much on strict parenting rules of any kind, but this one works like magic.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There’s a lot about motherhood you wish you’d known before becoming a mom. Write about it anytime between now and Sunday, then send a link to your post to PBN. It’s this week’s Blog Blast, sponsored by Discovery Health and their new series “Deliver Me”.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
daily photo (365/22)
Big Girl Haircut
Abby's hair is as thick as mine and very hard to manage, so I took her to the salon today for her first big girl hair cut. What did she love most? The fancy, yummy smelling hair products.
shopping online at the library
Before having kids I was vaguely aware that my town had a library, but I am not sure I knew where it was. I had Borders and Amazon.com. Things are a bit different these days. Now the librarians know my children by name. We frequent the wonderful children's room where the kids can "buy" books and DVDs, play, color and make crafts.In addition to all this great kid's stuff, there are also two floors of adult books and magazines. And not just serious old books, but my all my current trashy chick lit favorites like Jane Green , Jennifer Weiner and Sophie Kinsella. The problem? My kids aren't exactly good at waiting patiently while I browse the boring adult sections.
My solution? I discovered that you can browse the entire library collection online and place books on hold. If your library is part of a local network, you can also browse books at other member libraries as well. Then when you go to the library, all your books are waiting at the main desk for quick check out. I discovered this hold thing by accident and I felt a bit uncertain about it. Like I was taking advantage. But it turns out the shelf behind the main desk at my library is full of books on hold, so I am clearly not the only one using this service. Plus it keeps my kids from trashing the library, which the librarians must surely appreciate.
And the most exciting part? It feels like online shopping, but it is FREE.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
daily photo (365/20)
The Party Rolls OnWhenever my mother-in-law comes over she brings a party. When Oma babysits we are likely to come home to kids passed out on the couch with toys, candy, juice boxes and popcorn scattered about. Yesterday was no exception. The party included life size stuffed animals, four movies, chickens that shot gum out of their bums and a tray of 24 fancy cupcakes. The party continued today when we invited all the neighborhood kids over to help finish the cupcakes. We love you Oma!
abby's birth story
Sarcastic Mom's Birth Story Carnival day is here. Below is my story of how Abby came into this world, plus the postpartum sadness and guilt that followed.
I had an easy pregnancy with my first daughter, Abby. Towards the end of the pregnancy I experienced the same anxiety every woman feels about getting something so large through something so small. We all took physics. It just does not add up. However, my mother had fuzzy memories of fairly quick and easy deliveries. It seemed like a natural enough process and I had the advantages modern medicine, such as the epidural, on my side. Even when my doctor estimated my baby's weight to be around 9 pounds I did not really worry. I am tall myself so surely nature had this all worked out.
When I woke up on the morning of December 17, 2003 with very real but still manageable labor pains, I took a shower, shaved my legs, put on make-up and anticipated having a baby in my arms before the lipstick wore off. Yes it was the long wear kind and, no, I am not joking.
I went to the hospital around 9 am. I was 3 centimeters dilated when I arrived and very quickly dilated to 6 centimeters. I got hocked up to an IV and a horrible fetal monitor. I had lots of shakes (probably because I was dilating so fast) which did not score me any points with my grumpy nurse.
Next I got an epidural. The needle did not hurt at all and it worked wonderfully. So wonderfully that when the anesthesiologist stopped by to say hi the next day a shiver of pleasure shot through my body before my mind processed who he was. The epidural was that good.
After the epidural I slept and apparently had the same conversation over and over again with my poor husband. Around 8 pm I started feeling the contractions again and it was time to push.
Two hours later, still no baby. The doctor decided to try the vacuum. The nurses got the baby warmer ready. It seemed certain she would be out in a couple of pushes. But still no baby. Another doctor came in and felt around up there. Finally, they determined that the baby was facing the wrong way and was stuck forehead first in the birth canal. We decided on a c-section.
I was moved to the operating room, which took awhile for some reason. I did not get enough pain medication so the actual surgery HURT. They also had to push the baby back up which was no fun. Then Abby was finally out and I was waiting to hear her cry and relieved she was okay. I was also begging for juice, but no luck there. Finally I went to recovery, got a morphine shot and then things went a bit fuzzy until the next day. The last things I remember thinking were that Abby had a beautiful heart shaped face and my husband looked hot in scrubs.
Despite this less than ideal start, by day I managed to play the new mother part fairly well. Even though she did not nurse right away and actually had a bottle in the nursery (gasp) while I was on morphine and unconscious, we got off to a good start breastfeeding. Abby was awake, alert and hungry. She was an incredibly foreign creature to me and I loved her in a primal, all consuming, life changing way.
However, at the end of every day when the baby had been put to bed and the guests had gone home I sobbed and sobbed. I sobbed because I missed having my baby inside me, but mostly I sobbed over my failure as a woman. My failure to do the most basic thing a woman is meant to do- deliver a baby.
At the time I did not have any close friends or family that had had c-sections. I had heard the warnings about avoiding unnecessary c-sections by walking, not getting an epidural, doing things naturally. The sense was that as long as you did not mess things up, you could deliver your baby quite naturally as women had been doing for centuries. Clearly somehow I messed things up.
When I thought about these past women, I had visions of women giving birth by the fire with the help of a friendly neighborhood midwife or women going off into the woods for some sort of zen birthing experience. Sure, I had some vague sense of infant mortality being higher in those days but I attributed that to the general medical practices of the time.
So I had messed up. I had failed as a woman. And not because my baby was breech or I had some placenta issue, which would have seemed acceptably out of my control. Over and over again, I questioned every decision I had made that day. Maybe if I had waited longer to go to the hospital? Or walked more? Or tried more different pushing positions? Or just pushed harder? Or done more exercises to prepare for labor? I am not good at failing. I do not do it gracefully.
I eventually talked to a few people about my feelings of failure and sadness. Although the responses did not offer any solutions, the act of talking about it and the passage of time helped me move on.
Then I read a fascinating book that finally put my feelings of failure to rest. The author had a birth experience similar to mine, which motivated her to begin researching the history of childbirth. What she discovered is both fascinating and horrifying. It truly put my experience into perspective.
You might be interested to know that in 1883 a woman checking in to the Boston Lying In Hospital (now Brigham and Women's Hospital) had a 50 percent chance of contracting childbed fever, which was an infection spread by doctors performing vaginal exams without washing their hands after performing autopsys on infected women; 20 percent died of the infection. The mortality rate for c-sections at this time was down to 56 percent. This was thanks to ingenious advances to reduce hemorrhage and infection such as removing the uterus. With no anesthesia of any kind, of course.
And what about before these great advances? Craniotomies were performed. After days of labor, once the baby was presumed dead, the mother was tied down and then the babies skull was pierced, crushed and removed piece by piece. This process could take up to 14 hours.
So much for the warm and fuzzy image of natural births in the good ol' days. Turns out there has always been a need for c-sections. Humans, with our big brains and our walking upright, are not built for giving birth.
Fortunately for me and millions of other women, the cesarean mortality rate is now .04 percent in the United States. We live in a time and place where child birth is very safe. We can enjoy our pregnancies because we are very likely to survive child birth, as our are babies. There is plenty of debate about the high c-section rate in the United States today. Hopefully, this will further the development of better and safer birthing practices for our daughters. But viewed against the recent history of birth in this world, the availability of safe c-sections today should not be taken for granted. So this girl has finally stopped feeling bad for herself and started to appreciate how truly lucky I am.
I had an easy pregnancy with my first daughter, Abby. Towards the end of the pregnancy I experienced the same anxiety every woman feels about getting something so large through something so small. We all took physics. It just does not add up. However, my mother had fuzzy memories of fairly quick and easy deliveries. It seemed like a natural enough process and I had the advantages modern medicine, such as the epidural, on my side. Even when my doctor estimated my baby's weight to be around 9 pounds I did not really worry. I am tall myself so surely nature had this all worked out.
When I woke up on the morning of December 17, 2003 with very real but still manageable labor pains, I took a shower, shaved my legs, put on make-up and anticipated having a baby in my arms before the lipstick wore off. Yes it was the long wear kind and, no, I am not joking.
I went to the hospital around 9 am. I was 3 centimeters dilated when I arrived and very quickly dilated to 6 centimeters. I got hocked up to an IV and a horrible fetal monitor. I had lots of shakes (probably because I was dilating so fast) which did not score me any points with my grumpy nurse.
Next I got an epidural. The needle did not hurt at all and it worked wonderfully. So wonderfully that when the anesthesiologist stopped by to say hi the next day a shiver of pleasure shot through my body before my mind processed who he was. The epidural was that good.
After the epidural I slept and apparently had the same conversation over and over again with my poor husband. Around 8 pm I started feeling the contractions again and it was time to push.
Two hours later, still no baby. The doctor decided to try the vacuum. The nurses got the baby warmer ready. It seemed certain she would be out in a couple of pushes. But still no baby. Another doctor came in and felt around up there. Finally, they determined that the baby was facing the wrong way and was stuck forehead first in the birth canal. We decided on a c-section.
I was moved to the operating room, which took awhile for some reason. I did not get enough pain medication so the actual surgery HURT. They also had to push the baby back up which was no fun. Then Abby was finally out and I was waiting to hear her cry and relieved she was okay. I was also begging for juice, but no luck there. Finally I went to recovery, got a morphine shot and then things went a bit fuzzy until the next day. The last things I remember thinking were that Abby had a beautiful heart shaped face and my husband looked hot in scrubs.
Despite this less than ideal start, by day I managed to play the new mother part fairly well. Even though she did not nurse right away and actually had a bottle in the nursery (gasp) while I was on morphine and unconscious, we got off to a good start breastfeeding. Abby was awake, alert and hungry. She was an incredibly foreign creature to me and I loved her in a primal, all consuming, life changing way.
However, at the end of every day when the baby had been put to bed and the guests had gone home I sobbed and sobbed. I sobbed because I missed having my baby inside me, but mostly I sobbed over my failure as a woman. My failure to do the most basic thing a woman is meant to do- deliver a baby.
At the time I did not have any close friends or family that had had c-sections. I had heard the warnings about avoiding unnecessary c-sections by walking, not getting an epidural, doing things naturally. The sense was that as long as you did not mess things up, you could deliver your baby quite naturally as women had been doing for centuries. Clearly somehow I messed things up.
When I thought about these past women, I had visions of women giving birth by the fire with the help of a friendly neighborhood midwife or women going off into the woods for some sort of zen birthing experience. Sure, I had some vague sense of infant mortality being higher in those days but I attributed that to the general medical practices of the time.
So I had messed up. I had failed as a woman. And not because my baby was breech or I had some placenta issue, which would have seemed acceptably out of my control. Over and over again, I questioned every decision I had made that day. Maybe if I had waited longer to go to the hospital? Or walked more? Or tried more different pushing positions? Or just pushed harder? Or done more exercises to prepare for labor? I am not good at failing. I do not do it gracefully.
I eventually talked to a few people about my feelings of failure and sadness. Although the responses did not offer any solutions, the act of talking about it and the passage of time helped me move on.
Then I read a fascinating book that finally put my feelings of failure to rest. The author had a birth experience similar to mine, which motivated her to begin researching the history of childbirth. What she discovered is both fascinating and horrifying. It truly put my experience into perspective.
You might be interested to know that in 1883 a woman checking in to the Boston Lying In Hospital (now Brigham and Women's Hospital) had a 50 percent chance of contracting childbed fever, which was an infection spread by doctors performing vaginal exams without washing their hands after performing autopsys on infected women; 20 percent died of the infection. The mortality rate for c-sections at this time was down to 56 percent. This was thanks to ingenious advances to reduce hemorrhage and infection such as removing the uterus. With no anesthesia of any kind, of course.
And what about before these great advances? Craniotomies were performed. After days of labor, once the baby was presumed dead, the mother was tied down and then the babies skull was pierced, crushed and removed piece by piece. This process could take up to 14 hours.
So much for the warm and fuzzy image of natural births in the good ol' days. Turns out there has always been a need for c-sections. Humans, with our big brains and our walking upright, are not built for giving birth.
Fortunately for me and millions of other women, the cesarean mortality rate is now .04 percent in the United States. We live in a time and place where child birth is very safe. We can enjoy our pregnancies because we are very likely to survive child birth, as our are babies. There is plenty of debate about the high c-section rate in the United States today. Hopefully, this will further the development of better and safer birthing practices for our daughters. But viewed against the recent history of birth in this world, the availability of safe c-sections today should not be taken for granted. So this girl has finally stopped feeling bad for herself and started to appreciate how truly lucky I am.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
a not-so-good catholic celebrates Easter
I am a not-so-good catholic.
If you do not believe me, here is my three year old getting herself baptized:
If you do not believe me, here is my three year old getting herself baptized:
I intend to go to church more often. I am just good at talking myself out of things that require getting up and out of the house early on a Sunday morning. We are more of a cook a big breakfast, drink lots of coffee and lounge around in our pajamas type of family. Most weeks, I end up resolving to definitely go next week.
I am even reluctant to write about God and Religion. I am afraid that I will use an improper term or not capitalize something that must be capitalized, earning me the scorn of some real catholic somewhere. In fact, as I write this I am wondering if catholic should be capitalized? Possibly, but this is my blog and I am more of a lower case kind of girl. I mean no offense.
As a child, I completed my first communion and then my family stopped going to church. This left me sort of catholic. Maybe. If I wanted to take some classes and confess some sins. Not appealing as a teenager. As an adult I briefly considered other more liberal religions, but in the end religion just did not seem like something I could shop around for. And I do believe in the fundamental teachings of the church. So here I am, raising my kids as not-so-good catholics.
Today, I was reminded of why once we actually make it to church it is worthwhile. For one hour we sat together, just the four of us, with no computer or TV or other distractions. For one hour I focused on the many blessings in my life. An hour of sitting still is not easy for toddlers or preschoolers. The kids crawled all over, loudly munched their crackers just when everyone in the church went absolutely quiet and hopefully asked "Are we all done?" every time we stood up. Maybe this should have been annoying or embarrassing, but I just felt blessed to have them close to me. I left mass feeling refreshed and peaceful.
And strangely enough, at the end of the day when I asked Claire what her favorite part of the day had been, she did not pick the egg hunt or the candy or the cake. She picked the singing at church. And Abby? She has wonderful memories of the day she was baptized. She loves talking about how she got to go to church in her special white dress and how her whole family was there. So although we are not the best catholics, we are blessed to we have found a church that welcomes us and our children. And I believe our lives are better for it.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Friday, March 21, 2008
daily photo (365/17)
The Easter EggsWhat could be better than a holiday craft involving dye and paint?
career choices
Yesterday afternoon I was in the kitchen, in my apron (a cute pink striped number from Williams Sonoma, but an apron all the same) finishing up my husband’s favorite lasagna for dinner. The girls were sitting nearby having their snacks when Abby asked me: Can you be a Mommy and a cheerleader? My friend Katherine wants to be both. But not for long. She would only be a cheerleader until she had a baby in her belly.
Oh. My.
What decade am I living in? And exactly what kind of role model have I become? Somehow, “Yes, honey, you can be a mommy and a cheerleader” does not seem like the right answer. But the truth is I am not sure I have the right answer.
During my second pregnancy, when I found out I was going to be the mother of another girl, I suddenly felt I needed better answers to the question of what a woman can and should be. With our family growing, I also began to reconsider the choices I had made regarding work and family. I read all sorts of books in search of answers. I read classics like The Feminine Mystique. I read about Mommy Wars and The Price of Motherhood. I found interesting and insightful work out there from amazing women of all ages. These books, as well as the conversations I had with many wonderful women in my life helped me to better understand the issues, but ultimately did not provide the magic answer I was looking for.
So I did what seemed best for me and my family, which was put my career on hold to be home with my girls after Claire was born. And I am happy. There are miserable days but overall I am deeply content with my life and my decision. I feel I am doing exactly what I should be doing at this point in my life. To be honest, the thought of going back to work terrifies me.
But what do I want for my girls? Do I tell them they can be or do anything, only to discover later the problems with “having it all” if all includes the desire to be a mother? What alternative is there? Don't get too wrapped up in this career thing because you might find yourself giving it up? Should I encourage them to consider careers that might be more compatible with motherhood and be more satisfying in the long run?
Maybe there is no right answer. Maybe they will not even want to be mothers. Or not want careers. Maybe every woman has to find her own right answer. I guess above all I want my girls to make the most of whatever life offers them. Even if it involves cheerleading.
Oh. My.
What decade am I living in? And exactly what kind of role model have I become? Somehow, “Yes, honey, you can be a mommy and a cheerleader” does not seem like the right answer. But the truth is I am not sure I have the right answer.
During my second pregnancy, when I found out I was going to be the mother of another girl, I suddenly felt I needed better answers to the question of what a woman can and should be. With our family growing, I also began to reconsider the choices I had made regarding work and family. I read all sorts of books in search of answers. I read classics like The Feminine Mystique. I read about Mommy Wars and The Price of Motherhood. I found interesting and insightful work out there from amazing women of all ages. These books, as well as the conversations I had with many wonderful women in my life helped me to better understand the issues, but ultimately did not provide the magic answer I was looking for.
So I did what seemed best for me and my family, which was put my career on hold to be home with my girls after Claire was born. And I am happy. There are miserable days but overall I am deeply content with my life and my decision. I feel I am doing exactly what I should be doing at this point in my life. To be honest, the thought of going back to work terrifies me.
But what do I want for my girls? Do I tell them they can be or do anything, only to discover later the problems with “having it all” if all includes the desire to be a mother? What alternative is there? Don't get too wrapped up in this career thing because you might find yourself giving it up? Should I encourage them to consider careers that might be more compatible with motherhood and be more satisfying in the long run?
Maybe there is no right answer. Maybe they will not even want to be mothers. Or not want careers. Maybe every woman has to find her own right answer. I guess above all I want my girls to make the most of whatever life offers them. Even if it involves cheerleading.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
daily photo (365/16)
Family Portrait by Abby
Abby is in the center. Claire is on the back of the page.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
daily photo (365/15)
The Crayon LineAbby has a very specific coloring method. Each section of the picture separated by a solid line needs to be a different color and each crayon can only be used once. All used crayons go in the line. And to think I once worried that Abby was not opinionated enough.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
works for me wednesday- a better bra
I spent the better part of the last 5 years pregnant or nursing. With my baby weaned, finally, it was time for some pretty new bras. I set out on my afternoon of kid free shopping with high hopes. Then I remembered that shopping for a bra is no fun. Trying on dozens of different sizes and shapes of bras to find one that fits and is reasonably cute and comfortable. Seeing all your frumpy bits in that terrible lighting. Discovering that Victoria's Secret is no longer interested in the business of non super model types. I was honestly about to give up on the whole thing when I discovered a category of bras called minimizers.
Before kids I was about a C cup and wore pretty lacy things. After pregnancy and nursing I ended up about the same size but somehow less full than I started out. The pushup type bras created too much cleavage and jigglieness. Others did not provide enough support or looked plain terrible. Then I found this Bali Concealer bra. It pushes everything up and in rather than up and out. Basically, it provides the much needed lift and shaping without excess cleavage. It is even comfortable. My husband's analysis was that I looked "younger". God, I love him. And this bra.
More Works For Me Wednesday
daily photo (365/14)
Breakfast Treat
After dropping a disagreeable Abby off at preschool this morning, I took Claire out for breakfast. We went to local joint where you do not have to be embarrassed about the fact that your kid is still in pajamas. Their dinner menu features seafood, so the decor includes lots of fish mounted on the wall.
Based on Claire's reaction you might have thought I took her to Disney World. Look Mommy Fish! Nother Fish! Glub Glub! I love this store! Look Mommy a Plant! And Crayons! I love this table! And then juice came. And then food. Oh, the excitement a $3 breakfast can bring.
true love
As I tucked Abby in for her nap today....
Me: I love you, even when you drive me crazy.
Abby: I love you, even when you yell at me.
Me: I love you, even when you drive me crazy.
Abby: I love you, even when you yell at me.
Monday, March 17, 2008
daily photo (365/13)
The Bus!! The Bus!!
We live in a neighborhood with lots of kids which means the bus goes by our house about eight times a day. Yet somehow it is still an exciting event every time.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Saturday, March 15, 2008
daily photo (365/11)
The World of Girl Growing up, my husband and his brother lived in the world of boy. When we had girls he thought he would get them interested in sports and play rough with them. How different could it be? Here he is four years later playing tea party.
Friday, March 14, 2008
daily photo (365/10)
I am cheating, I took this picture last week, but it fits with this weeks around the house theme and I was busy doing this today.
Abby's Room
The blur in this picture is intentional. It captures how I see the girls at this age- constant motion.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
the perfect age
Claire is 21 months old, and she is so much fun that I think this might just be the perfect age. The frustrations of babyhood like teething, sleepless nights and crying for no apparent reason have passed. The toddler tantrums have not yet started. She is big enough to play by herself or with other kids without being a constant threat to herself (choking!! falling!!). I can go to the bathroom or even take a shower.
And the personality, oh how it has blossomed. Her voice is both forceful and sweet as she narrates her world for us in full, grown-up sentences. She knows what she likes: books, orange juice, the letter O, the moon, Dora and Ariel Mermaid. She gets what is going on. She remembers things. She makes us laugh.
But she is still small enough to rock to sleep at night. Still small enough to pick up easily. Still a cuddly little wiggle worm. She still bounces when she walks the way only babies do. I do not expect much from her. She is too young for potty training or dressing herself or picking up her toys. Everything thing she does seems like a bonus. She knows her colors! And the birthday song! And the letter O! Brilliant.
It might be her easy going personality or the fact that she is the second child, but everything with her seems so fun and so easy. As I write this, I know that next month or the month after will probably bring something totally different but these last couple of months sure have been good.
So Claire, I know you are anxious to grow up and be just like your big sister but I would not mind if you wanted to stay this age for just a bit longer.
And the personality, oh how it has blossomed. Her voice is both forceful and sweet as she narrates her world for us in full, grown-up sentences. She knows what she likes: books, orange juice, the letter O, the moon, Dora and Ariel Mermaid. She gets what is going on. She remembers things. She makes us laugh.
But she is still small enough to rock to sleep at night. Still small enough to pick up easily. Still a cuddly little wiggle worm. She still bounces when she walks the way only babies do. I do not expect much from her. She is too young for potty training or dressing herself or picking up her toys. Everything thing she does seems like a bonus. She knows her colors! And the birthday song! And the letter O! Brilliant.
It might be her easy going personality or the fact that she is the second child, but everything with her seems so fun and so easy. As I write this, I know that next month or the month after will probably bring something totally different but these last couple of months sure have been good.
So Claire, I know you are anxious to grow up and be just like your big sister but I would not mind if you wanted to stay this age for just a bit longer.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
mean, mean mommy takes the kids swimming
I am a mean mother. The meanest. Perhaps you saw me at the Y today drowning my child in the pool, dragging her across the parking lot with no shoes and then hitting her in the head with the car door? Or perhaps you were across town and just heard the screaming?
Let me explain my side of the story. Last week I made the mistake of buying Abby a pair of swimming goggles. Of course she wanted to go to the pool immediately to see if she could swim like a mermaid with them on. After lots of begging (her) and lies about the pool being closed (me), we finally made it to the YMCA pool this afternoon for family swim time. As luck would have it, today was a half day at the elementary school so the pool was full of school kids supervised by a bored looking teenage boy sitting by the pool.
Great. So we head into the muggy vat of chlorine filled with kicking, splashing kids. Abby is wearing her goggles and bubble with a water noodle just in case. Claire is clinging to me like a tree monkey. Did I mention Claire is not a big fan of the pool? The goggles do not work out as planned. They do not stay in the exact place Abby would like in relation to her hair and ears. They do nothing to keep water out of her nose. They do not transform her into a Mermaid. The frustrations mount.
Finally, after about two hours, the half hour of family swim time comes to an end. We agree to get out of the pool and I head towards the ladder with Claire. Somehow, in the tangle of splashing kids Abby gets behind us. I do not see this as a big deal because she is virtually unsinkable with her bubble and water noodle. She regularly paddles around the pool and walks out of the pool on her own to get things. However, for whatever reason this time she decides to stop in the middle of the pool and start screaming "Mommy!!!!! I can't swim!!!!! I can't swim!!!!!". She actually has a full blown tantrum in the middle of the pool.
The lifeguards do not seem particularly concerned, but the other moms and kids look at me in horror when instead of jumping back in to save her, I calmly tell her to get out of the pool please and start to walk away. The screaming continues as a couple of helpful kids try to show her what swimming strokes look like. Eventually she makes her way out of the pool.
A series of other problems follow: she does not want to carry her goggles (I am already carrying a toddler and three towels, so I suggest a nearby trash can), she does not want to take off her bathing suit, she is cold, her underwear is too wet, her sweatshirt is too small, she does not want to wear her hat, and finally the worst of all, she can not walk in her flip flops because they hurt her feet. They hurt her feet so badly that her toes might just fall off.
I do not have any other shoes and I am already carrying a toddler plus an enormous bag of wet stuff. At this point I have clearly had it with the whole experience and want to flee as quickly as possible. I tell her she has to wear the shoes and head for the door. She follows behind screaming about how much the flip flops hurt. My feeeet!!!! I can't walk!!!! Mommmmyyy!!!! Help me, Pleeaase!!!!! My feeeet!!!! Halfway through the parking lot, one of her flip flops comes off, resulting in more screams. I grab the shoes and lead her (now barefoot) to the car. We get to the car. The screaming is worse because now her feet are cold, wet and scratchy. How could I take away her shoes??? Claire is trying to wiggle away to cruise the parking lot as I search the bottom of my enormous bag for the car keys. Abby starts screaming at me to open the door and let her in. I finally find the keys, open the door and slam it right into her head. More screams, this time "Mommmmmyyyy, you are sooo MEAN!!!!" I swear it was an accident, but after the ridiculousness of the whole afternoon I just had to laugh.
Yup, should of stayed home and let them watch a movie.
Let me explain my side of the story. Last week I made the mistake of buying Abby a pair of swimming goggles. Of course she wanted to go to the pool immediately to see if she could swim like a mermaid with them on. After lots of begging (her) and lies about the pool being closed (me), we finally made it to the YMCA pool this afternoon for family swim time. As luck would have it, today was a half day at the elementary school so the pool was full of school kids supervised by a bored looking teenage boy sitting by the pool.
Great. So we head into the muggy vat of chlorine filled with kicking, splashing kids. Abby is wearing her goggles and bubble with a water noodle just in case. Claire is clinging to me like a tree monkey. Did I mention Claire is not a big fan of the pool? The goggles do not work out as planned. They do not stay in the exact place Abby would like in relation to her hair and ears. They do nothing to keep water out of her nose. They do not transform her into a Mermaid. The frustrations mount.
Finally, after about two hours, the half hour of family swim time comes to an end. We agree to get out of the pool and I head towards the ladder with Claire. Somehow, in the tangle of splashing kids Abby gets behind us. I do not see this as a big deal because she is virtually unsinkable with her bubble and water noodle. She regularly paddles around the pool and walks out of the pool on her own to get things. However, for whatever reason this time she decides to stop in the middle of the pool and start screaming "Mommy!!!!! I can't swim!!!!! I can't swim!!!!!". She actually has a full blown tantrum in the middle of the pool.
The lifeguards do not seem particularly concerned, but the other moms and kids look at me in horror when instead of jumping back in to save her, I calmly tell her to get out of the pool please and start to walk away. The screaming continues as a couple of helpful kids try to show her what swimming strokes look like. Eventually she makes her way out of the pool.
A series of other problems follow: she does not want to carry her goggles (I am already carrying a toddler and three towels, so I suggest a nearby trash can), she does not want to take off her bathing suit, she is cold, her underwear is too wet, her sweatshirt is too small, she does not want to wear her hat, and finally the worst of all, she can not walk in her flip flops because they hurt her feet. They hurt her feet so badly that her toes might just fall off.
I do not have any other shoes and I am already carrying a toddler plus an enormous bag of wet stuff. At this point I have clearly had it with the whole experience and want to flee as quickly as possible. I tell her she has to wear the shoes and head for the door. She follows behind screaming about how much the flip flops hurt. My feeeet!!!! I can't walk!!!! Mommmmyyy!!!! Help me, Pleeaase!!!!! My feeeet!!!! Halfway through the parking lot, one of her flip flops comes off, resulting in more screams. I grab the shoes and lead her (now barefoot) to the car. We get to the car. The screaming is worse because now her feet are cold, wet and scratchy. How could I take away her shoes??? Claire is trying to wiggle away to cruise the parking lot as I search the bottom of my enormous bag for the car keys. Abby starts screaming at me to open the door and let her in. I finally find the keys, open the door and slam it right into her head. More screams, this time "Mommmmmyyyy, you are sooo MEAN!!!!" I swear it was an accident, but after the ridiculousness of the whole afternoon I just had to laugh.
Yup, should of stayed home and let them watch a movie.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
daily photo (365/7)
The Room Formerly Known as Our Study Continuing on with this weeks theme of daily life in our house, or rooms that I should be cleaning instead of photographing.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Sunday, March 9, 2008
daily photo (365/5)
At the Belle Show Today, I took my Princess Belle obsessed daughter to a production of Beauty and the Beast at a local high school. Three hours of high school kids singing and little girls waving flashing roses. Surely this earns me a week worth of good mommy points??
Saturday, March 8, 2008
yeah, that's my worm
This afternoon I discovered an unidentifiable glob of orange goo ground into the couch. Abby came over, identified it as part of an orange gummy worm and insisted that Claire did it. Yeah, right. She seemed to know an awful lot for someone claiming to be innocent. Plus, she was the owner of the gummy worms in question.
Just then Claire cruised by so I asked her about it. Her response: 'Yeah, that's my worm.' She was all wide eyed and innocent, like she was grateful that I found her worm for her. She had no idea that this could be trouble. That you are not supposed to store your excess gummy worm bits in the couch cushions. Ah, the sweet innocence of youth.
The fact that my husband and I laughed like she was the cutest thing in the world probably explains a lot about why Abby wants to be a baby.
Just then Claire cruised by so I asked her about it. Her response: 'Yeah, that's my worm.' She was all wide eyed and innocent, like she was grateful that I found her worm for her. She had no idea that this could be trouble. That you are not supposed to store your excess gummy worm bits in the couch cushions. Ah, the sweet innocence of youth.
The fact that my husband and I laughed like she was the cutest thing in the world probably explains a lot about why Abby wants to be a baby.
Friday, March 7, 2008
daily photo (365/3)
Sharing an Ice Cream After Claire's doctor appointment, I took the girls to see the puppies at the pet store and out for an ice cream. I love to see them having fun together.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
is me time allowed?
Dear International Parenting Review Board,
I am writing to clarify the good mother guidelines. My girls are 4 and almost 2 years old. I do not work. I am home with them all day. Our days revolve around them and their needs.
My question: Am I entitled to any me time in this day? Without guilt? Is it reasonable to expect them to play together while I do something I enjoy- like blog, or read, or read blogs? I can justify the need for me to do things that benefit us all, like cooking diner. But I feel guilty doing anything I enjoy that does not involve them.
If they want to watch a movie and I want to be on my computer, is this okay? Or should I force them to play with me because it seems like what a good mom should do, even if it is not really what any of us want to do?
Let me clarify. I like spending time with my kids. I believe that I do my fair share of activities with them. I color and play dolls with them. Just yesterday I built a block tower. We regularly go to the library, local farm, YMCA pool and playground. I schedule play dates and visits with grandma. Abby goes to preschool and dance class.
Yet somehow this still leaves a fair number of hours to fill in the week. Given that most of our activities revolve around the girls, should all of our free time also revolve around them? Or am I entitled to some of this time, guilt free? Especially if it makes me a happier mommy?
I assure you I have heard the warnings from older parents about the time for yourself that you crave being all too plentiful when you are waiting for your grown children to visit. True enough I am sure, but do I really need to wait that long? I am not sure I would know who I am after so long.
Also, this is a small point, but if we are all sitting down at dinner am I obligated to get up mid bite to supply more food or a new fork or whatever my child demands? Is making them wait acceptable? If so, how long?
Perhaps after fulfilling a certain number of requests in a day I can consider my job done? Or if we do something extra fun in the morning, I can take the afternoon off?
Thank you in advance for clarifying these guidelines. I trust that your rules are fair and have taken into account the needs of all parties.
Sincerely,
Trying to be a Good Mom
I am writing to clarify the good mother guidelines. My girls are 4 and almost 2 years old. I do not work. I am home with them all day. Our days revolve around them and their needs.
My question: Am I entitled to any me time in this day? Without guilt? Is it reasonable to expect them to play together while I do something I enjoy- like blog, or read, or read blogs? I can justify the need for me to do things that benefit us all, like cooking diner. But I feel guilty doing anything I enjoy that does not involve them.
If they want to watch a movie and I want to be on my computer, is this okay? Or should I force them to play with me because it seems like what a good mom should do, even if it is not really what any of us want to do?
Let me clarify. I like spending time with my kids. I believe that I do my fair share of activities with them. I color and play dolls with them. Just yesterday I built a block tower. We regularly go to the library, local farm, YMCA pool and playground. I schedule play dates and visits with grandma. Abby goes to preschool and dance class.
Yet somehow this still leaves a fair number of hours to fill in the week. Given that most of our activities revolve around the girls, should all of our free time also revolve around them? Or am I entitled to some of this time, guilt free? Especially if it makes me a happier mommy?
I assure you I have heard the warnings from older parents about the time for yourself that you crave being all too plentiful when you are waiting for your grown children to visit. True enough I am sure, but do I really need to wait that long? I am not sure I would know who I am after so long.
Also, this is a small point, but if we are all sitting down at dinner am I obligated to get up mid bite to supply more food or a new fork or whatever my child demands? Is making them wait acceptable? If so, how long?
Perhaps after fulfilling a certain number of requests in a day I can consider my job done? Or if we do something extra fun in the morning, I can take the afternoon off?
Thank you in advance for clarifying these guidelines. I trust that your rules are fair and have taken into account the needs of all parties.
Sincerely,
Trying to be a Good Mom
daily photo (365/2)
Abby and the Blue Dress
This is currently Abby's favorite outfit. She picked out the dress and headband herself on a shopping trip last Sunday and has wanted to wear them every day since. I guess it is better than a bathing suit.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
project 365- one photo per day for a year
I recently stumbled upon the idea of Project 365 at Photojojo and I have decided to give it a try. The idea is to take and post a picture every single day for a year. All 365 days. An entire year, day in and day out, documented in pictures. The big stuff and the everyday stuff.
I began this blog to better record, remember and celebrate this time in my life and the lives of my children. Recently, I was tossing around the idea of doing a series of photos documenting our everyday life and our home. I will use this project to expand on that idea.
I have plenty of pictures of holidays and birthdays, but so many other days go by and are all but forgotten. My goal will be to post a photo that captures something of our life each day. Some will be beautiful, some will be boring and I am sure some will feature what we eat, since I also write a food blog.
I also hope that taking a photo a day will make me a better photographer (as Photojojo assures me it will). My interest in photography goes back years, but since having my first baby I have photographed little else. Not even a single picture from a three day trip I took to London. Pathetic. So I hope this project will motivate me to occasionally take photos of something other than the girls. Eventually.
So without further ado, Project 365/1:
Little Princess Claire
I actually really love this picture. It is one of over 100 that I took today (how did I ever live without a digital camera?). I am experimenting with the shutter speed settings on my camera and the kids are great subjects because they are always moving.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
all out of good mommy
By 8:30 this morning I was all out of good mommy. This was unfortunate because we have to leave the house at 8:30 to bring Abby to preschool. My kids get up around 7:30 which means on most mornings at 8:30 I am cleaning up after breakfast and having a cup of coffee while the girls watch some morning television. Harmony.
However on school days we need to get moving faster. We rush though feeding, potty, dressing and all the usual battles over hair brushing, clothes, accessories and missing shoes. This morning as we were heading out the door Abby had a meltdown because she was trying to balance a balloon on a rolled up piece of paper and it was not working the way she wanted. In case you are wondering this balloon was not a school project or in any way related to getting ready for school.
How exactly is it that I am responsible for every detail of getting all of us ready and out the door? At the very least can't I expect my four year old to focus on what we are doing rather than other random stuff? Especially if what we are doing is taking her to school? After throwing the balloon out of the car I attempted to get Abby's thoughts on these questions. The conversation could have gone better.
Typically, even on mornings like this I can muster up a good mommy routine at school. I am all "Good morning!!" and "Sweetie, lets hang up your coat!" and "Claire, honey, come back please!". But this morning I just could not do it. I was all out of good mommy.
However on school days we need to get moving faster. We rush though feeding, potty, dressing and all the usual battles over hair brushing, clothes, accessories and missing shoes. This morning as we were heading out the door Abby had a meltdown because she was trying to balance a balloon on a rolled up piece of paper and it was not working the way she wanted. In case you are wondering this balloon was not a school project or in any way related to getting ready for school.
How exactly is it that I am responsible for every detail of getting all of us ready and out the door? At the very least can't I expect my four year old to focus on what we are doing rather than other random stuff? Especially if what we are doing is taking her to school? After throwing the balloon out of the car I attempted to get Abby's thoughts on these questions. The conversation could have gone better.
Typically, even on mornings like this I can muster up a good mommy routine at school. I am all "Good morning!!" and "Sweetie, lets hang up your coat!" and "Claire, honey, come back please!". But this morning I just could not do it. I was all out of good mommy.
Monday, March 3, 2008
miracle monday
The fabulous Beth over at A Mom's Life was called upon while shaving her legs to begin Miracle Monday. Who am I to question this type of calling? My standing in the religious world is somewhat questionable but none the less God has showered me with a number of miracles in recent years. So here is my first contribution.
Abby was the kind of adventure seeking baby who fell a lot, despite my best efforts to protect her. She fell off the bed, the changing pad and all sorts of furniture. When she was about a year old she fell down the entire flight of stairs. A full flight of hardwood stairs with a hard wood landing. I was steps behind her but not fast enough to catch her as she tumbled down step after step in horrifying slow motion. In that terrifying moment a thousand things flashed through my mind- head injury, spine injury, broken bones, death. I knew I had failed in my job of caring for this baby that I loved more than life itself. I knew she would never be the same.
And yet when the screaming (mostly mine) subsided Abby had nothing more than a small bump on the head. Nothing more than a small bump on the head from a fall down a full flight of stairs. She was completely fine. In fact, she was so fine that as I called the pediatrician she attempted to climb the stairs. It was truly a miracle to me. When I failed to protect my daughter, the Lord protected her. It is never far from my mind that accidents can happen in the blink of an eye and that my girls' good health is a daily blessing.
More Miracle Monday
Abby was the kind of adventure seeking baby who fell a lot, despite my best efforts to protect her. She fell off the bed, the changing pad and all sorts of furniture. When she was about a year old she fell down the entire flight of stairs. A full flight of hardwood stairs with a hard wood landing. I was steps behind her but not fast enough to catch her as she tumbled down step after step in horrifying slow motion. In that terrifying moment a thousand things flashed through my mind- head injury, spine injury, broken bones, death. I knew I had failed in my job of caring for this baby that I loved more than life itself. I knew she would never be the same.
And yet when the screaming (mostly mine) subsided Abby had nothing more than a small bump on the head. Nothing more than a small bump on the head from a fall down a full flight of stairs. She was completely fine. In fact, she was so fine that as I called the pediatrician she attempted to climb the stairs. It was truly a miracle to me. When I failed to protect my daughter, the Lord protected her. It is never far from my mind that accidents can happen in the blink of an eye and that my girls' good health is a daily blessing.
More Miracle Monday
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