Bad Parents

There's been a lot of controversial discussion lately on the SV Moms Blog about on what constitutes bad parenting. Parents taking their kids on the campaign trail. A toy-gun wielding tot. There's been a lot of opinions and some heated debate. And us blog addicts and (some blog trolls) have all been glued, if not slightly entertained by it. But I've got a category of bad parents who I don't think any of you is going to argue with or be entertained by: child abusers.

I've been sick to my stomach in last month. Not just because I'm twelve weeks pregnant, but because of all the recent news stories of children being abused, tortured, and even killed by their own parents. Just in the Bay Area in the last month, there's the heavily covered story of the 6-year-old San Jose boy who was beaten to death by his mother's boyfriend; the Richmond mother charged with murder and torture of her 8-year-old; and the 22 month old from San Jose who was cruelly tortured by his meth-head mother and boyfriend. Amazingly, this little boy is still alive, but faces incredible needs--medically, socially, emotionally, psychologically (read the Merc story to see how you can donate to a trust fund set up for him).

And if you google this topic, or visit Parents Behaving Badly you'll find story after story after story: parents drowning their kids, setting them on fire, overdosing them with OTC drugs, leaving them in a hot car while visiting a brothel, on and on. Very depressing. A good way to toss your cookies--fast. I've been so affected by these stories it that I often have to put down the paper, turn off the TV, or shut the browser and block it out of my mind. I do that to protect myself, so that I can function the rest of the day.

But I'm thinking my response is wrong. How many people, like me, turn away from these news stories, block it out of their minds, and don't even talk about it, because it's just too painful, too unfathomable, that we live in a world where atrocities like this can happen almost every day it seems. So I'm thinking we need a different tactic. Let's be completely outraged, get engaged, and see what can be done that isn't already being done to prevent such tragedies. So, outside of more resources going into child protective agencies (a possible discussion for a presidential candidate), I have a wild idea-let's try to keep the violent criminals, drug addicts, and psychopaths from having children.

How? Well, that's complicated but here's a few ideas. Maybe we could start with more parental screening in hospitals. Something a little more extensive than bringing your car-seat into the recovery room for the nurses approval before you can leave the hospital (how does she know it's even installed correctly in your vehicle?) Maybe, while admitted, they could do background checks?

I recently got a hand out from the California Department of Social Services from my son's preschool regarding caregiver background checks. It states, "A person convicted of a crime such as murder, rape, torture, kidnapping, crimes of sexual violence or molestation against children cannot by law be given an exception that would allow them to live in or work in a licensed child care home or center." Well...hmmm...maybe we could take this a step further and maybe not let those people have kids either.

In most state--California included--criminals are not allowed to vote, that right that is taken away when you commit a felony. So...how about we take away the right--or the ability--of a murderer, rapist, torturer, kidnapper, or child molester to bear children? Maybe along with whatever prison sentence, they should be sterilized as well. Crazy? Maybe, but consider this: Child protective services has the power to take kids out of abusing homes--often times too late. So why not step in before that happens? I KNOW involuntary sterilization reeks of government control, is a scary proposition, opens a whole host of moral and ethical implications, and is probably not even constitutional, but....bring on the debate and whatever ideas you have because I'm tired of seeing children suffer at the hands of cruel, evil, sick people.

30 Minute Meals?

I'm sitting here watching a Rachel Ray 30 Minute Meal episode. Her meals are delicous. I've made more than a few and they are always enjoyed. However, these meals always take more than 30 minutes to make, and I just realized why.

She doesn't have any kids!

Here's what we really need to see. As Rachel quickly and effortlessly sautes some shallots and garlic in butter, her 3 year old statrts screaming bloody murder because the baby just put his favorite aciton figure in her mouth: the baby of course cries too. At the same time, the phone rings. It's her older child's school - volunteers are needed for yet another candy drive. She handles the phone call only to walk into the living room with the two fighting children and see that sometime in the last five-and-a-half minutes they have managed to spread goldfish all over the carpet. Rachel will be challenged to diplomatically handle the kiddos dispute, clean up the Goldfish, and then return to the kitchen to continue the meal. She will realize she forgot to begin boiling the pasta water. Her hair will be disheveled and her shirt will be stained with baby spit up. The oldest child enters the house, in a funk, and Rachel will demand, . . ahem . . request, that this child set the table only to have the child burst into tears because she wasn't picked first for kickball that day. All the chldren will now be in the kitchen with her, asking what she's making. In unison, they will yell "Eeewww, that's yucky" after she tells them what they are having.

Maybe someone can create a reality show called "How my 30 Minute Meal took 1 Hour and 20 Minutes." It will show of real moms making Rachel's meals showing how long they actually take to make when you are trying to deal with the demands of family life at the same time. I'll think I'll give the foodTV network a call right now.

A Boy's Blessing

One evening many months back, when Jeep was younger and more often waking multiple times a night, in a sleep-deprived haze I thumbed through a book of devotions and found a prayer that I have prayed with my son every night since:

Dear God, shelter us under your wings of love. Grant us a peaceful night and a restful sleep.

After the above phrases, I rattle off a list of "God blesses" starting with Daddy, Mama and Jeep. After the three of us, the nightly list would vary widely from every grandparent, aunt, uncle and cousin, to all of Jeep's classmates and the neighborhood pets. A couple of months ago, Jeeper surprised me by interupting me after the word "sleep" and reciting "God bess Daddy, God bess Mama and God bess Jeepee." So sweet. He has been in charge of the "God blesses" ever since! It has been fun to observe nightly who he selects to bless. Daddy and I almost always make the list, but beyond that it may include that day's favorite teacher, one of his stuffed animals or a neighborhood pal.

Last weekend, a good friend was visiting from Oregon and she was sitting on the living room floor with me and Jeep when I told him it was time for his nap. He sunk into my arms and began chanting "God bess Daddy..." I laughed because we don't usually say prayers for naptime but it was funny that he related it to being about to get into bed. Then he said, "God bess Mama," and paused before he pointed to my girlfriend and pronounced, "God bess dat one."

The Diana Chronicles and My Summer of Keeping Appearances

I picked up the Diana Chronicles at Costco right before our trip to Montana to visit the in-laws. Even though I’ve always been fascinated by Princess Di, I’ve never read any of the books written about her until now. I’m glad I waited. Tina Brown has put forth an impeccably researched and objectively written page-turner. She covers everything from Diana’s dysfunctional family and doomed marriage to her PR prowess and amazing capacity for empathy, to her tragic death. When I mentioned to one of my friends that I was reading this book and how affected I was by it, she said, “I don’t believe Diana was meant to have a long life.” I’m still digesting what she means by that, but it does seem that high profile people carrying with them the hopes and dreams of people and nations seem to live short lives (i.e. John Lennon, MLK, JFK, JFK Jr. ).

It seemed appropriate to read this book as we approach the 10-year anniversary of her death. I found it ironic that I was reading it in Montana, where I got married just four years prior on August 31, the day she died. So aware was I of Di even when planning my wedding, I asked my-then betrothed if we should pick another date. We didn’t. (But in hindsight, perhaps we should have since the entire state Montana was engulfed in forest fire when we married, but that’s another story.) But what seemed more ironic about the timing of this read, was that the theme of my summer was slowly starting to emerge: The Keeping Up of Appearances. Visiting the in-laws this time around with toddler in tow, I became keenly aware of the importance of appearances in front of their friends--a bunch of retired transplanted Californians playing golf in the wilds of Montana.

Only three weeks before we spent a week in Idaho where I realized my own family’s obsession with appearance, theirs being more about religion and social conservatism. (I was practically burned at the stake for not taking my husband’s name yet no one could articulate the real issue with it except that, “it just doesn’t look right.”) We recently visited friends and related to them our experiences with the grandparents. And, M, who’s French and whose mother lives in France (and still they’ve had a heavy dose of grandparent drama) commented, “For our parents generation, it’s all about keeping up with appearances.”

Between that comment and reading the Diana book, everything seemed to come together. Here Diana married into the Royal Family were everything was about maintaining appearances and following protocol. Duty before self. (And it’s worth noting that the Queen herself is the same generation of my parents.) How suffocating that environment must have been. I can’t even imagine. How glad I am to be living in a day and place and class of society where I can pretty much look out for my immediate family and me and forget all the pomp and circumstance.

But then I wonder (as I keep contemplating new remodeling projects) is the keeping up of appearances only a thing of our parents’ generation or in our modern society do we just do it differently? Unlike Royals, here in SV it’s not cool to wear suits in the office and we address pretty much everybody by their first name (even kids to adults). Yet maybe we’re not so different in the appearance department.

Now that I’ve started to “put down some roots” here in SV, I’m becoming all to aware of the tallying of the score: what house you live in, what neighborhood it’s located in, what car you park out front, what high-tech you or your husband works at, what preschool you’re filling out applications for so that your son can get in the right elementary for the right middle school so he can go to Bellermine.

It all gives me a headache. And, I realize that unless I choose to live more consciously, and surround myself by others who try to do the same, I too, will be one of those parents suffocating thier children for the sake of appearances.

On the Good Ship Lollipop

As many of you know I have a true ballerina princess living in my house. While, she can handle soccer balls being hit at her by her older brother and can handle a light saber with the best of them, my daughter's heart lies in getting all gussied up and get her groove on. Thus it was just a matter of time before we signed her up for her first dance class and subsequently she had her first dance recital extravaganza.

We signed up a The Dance Affair, a studio in San Jose run by the fantastic Erika Fairfield. Erika and her team are loving, patient, organized and kind, which is all you can ask for in dance studio. Most of all they were grounded. They were not under some delusion that all students were going to become primaballerinas. Erika in a very loving way creates an environment where kids have fun and somehow learned a routine.

Having never taken dance lessons, I wasn't sure of what to expect. Prior to the show we had several "Dance Outs", where the children performed in public at festivals, churches etc. They had full costumes and had to where makeup. Yes, makeup - brown eye shadow, red lipstick, mascara - the works. Kiley, of course, loved putting it on. I, on the other hand, worried, that I was taking my child down the path of Jon Benet Ramsey and beauty pageants for 5 year olds- yikes! What was I thinking... what happened to my baby? She is growing up too quickly.

The show, the 20th anniversary show, was held this past weekend at the San Jose Center for Performing Arts. We were amazed at the whole production. The place was sold out and the show was great! Kiley loved being in the show. She already picked out the costume she wants to wear next year. I now get why they had to practice wearing makeup and see that the community practices were essential for the kids to get used to performing in public. My worry about big hair and egos were laid to rest as I looked around and saw there were more moms like me who had no idea about how to get mascara on a 4 year old and decided to abandon that idea.

As for being worried that my baby was growing up too quickly, well she is certainly maturing. After all she put the pink lipstick on without getting it on her cheeks "too" badly. She is more confident in her version of pirouettes and arabesques and can leap frog like no one I know. We went out for ice cream to celebrate her big show. I firmly believe a scoop of rainbow sherbet should always tops off any important night. As I carried her from the car to the house, I looked at my sleeping little ballerina in her costume, smeared pink lipstick and dried ice cream on her face and thought, "I love being her mommy."

Remodeling Mom?

A while back I was having a phone conversation with an old friend. We were lamenting about our new lives in motherhood—she working outside the home, me working in the home. Our sons are six weeks apart in age and hers turned two a week and a half ago. In that time she’s taken maternity leave, gone back to work full-time, gone down to work part-time and now back to work full-time. Like all of us, she’s trying to figure out the life-work-mothering balance.

We were onto our familiar topic of “how to manage it all” and “what is the ideal situation anyway?” She commented that she wanted some perspective from stay-home moms but didn’t know that many. And that I really didn’t count because I was a Remodeling Mom. We had this conversation nearly two months ago, and those words keep haunting me. What does that mean, Remodeling Mom?

I mean yes, life has been pretty crazy coping through a kitchen-living-laundry-bathroom remodel with a toddler. To avoid living in the construction zone, we stayed at a friend’s place for a month (while she biked across Europe), went camping in Idaho for 10 days (well, it’s better than the backyard), and are now are living in 700 square feet of our 1400 square foot house. My day usually involves going to some home supply store, meeting with the designer or contractor, or scouring the Internet for a light fixture. If I’m not working on the house project, my time is spent coping with our situation--making pasta on the camp stove, doing dishes in the bathroom, begging a friend to let me use their laundry facilities, or driving around the block 25 times for naptime since it’s too noisy to be in our house.

I pretty much drag my near two-year-old with me everywhere on my daily agenda. It doesn’t mean we don’t go to the park or the pool, try out the finger paints in the backyard, or build trains together, but he does watch quite a bit of Curious George whenever I need a quiet, un-interrupted minute or two to make a phone call or heaven forbid, blow dry my hair.

Despite the financial, emotional, and physical challenges of going through a remodel, I do think it’s serving an interesting purpose for my psyche. It’s replacing the mental stimulation of working and even to a certain extent the social aspect of the office. Granted I’m limited to the wacky world of contracting—a culture that is not without it’s own level of gossip and politics. But the bottom line is, I’m pretty much the CEO of my project, interesting people come in and out, and that keeps me busy and engaged. I hope that’s what my friend means, by me being a Remodeling Mom.

My dark side tells me that what it could mean is that I’m not an active member of Las Madres, don’t have organized play dates to the zoo, am not baking gluten-free, sugar free cookies, nor am up to date on the latest parenting philosophies or pedatric alternative healthcare buzz. Not to mention his birthday is coming up in less than a month and nothing has been planned. If my kid turns out to be some weirdo, we’ll blame the Remodel of 2007. But that’s just the dark side talking…or is it?

This was cross posted to the Silicon Valley Moms Blog.

Vote for me!

Holy schmoly! I just got back from a weekend at the San Jose Family Camp. Looking spic and span, I opened up my email and found out that I got picked to be one of the six finalists for the SV Moms Blog. WOW! It couldn't have come at a better time as I pick leaves out of my hair and look at the mound of laundry on the floor. It was a great time, but whew how did we get so dirty? And why did we bring back a stack of sticks and a jar of dead bugs? hmmm...

As I huffed and puffed climbing up the hill to our tent, I thought more about how I really need to work out. But of course, publicly blamed it on the high altitude:) With the make over, I can just see myself climbing up the hill with ease next year, maybe even running...okay now let's not go crazy!

Don't forget to vote for me so I can stop whining.

To the SV BLog Moms community- thanks for this HUGE honor! It is super inspiring to think that my random rants can lead to so much more!!! I am sure there are moms that are much more deserving (the other 5 finalists are a testament to that!), I just want you to know that I appreciate the vote of confidence and support. As a new blogger, this means a great deal! Thanks!

Summer camp mommy anxiety

There are exactly 4 school days left before summer vacation is officially here. My kids can't wait - swimming, camping, sleeping in and popsicles, what can be better?

This will be my first summer as a pseudo-SAHM and frankly, I'm a little nervous. I signed my son up for a whole bunch of camps when I was working full time knowing that I would need the childcare. I now have a spreadsheet of the various camps (sports, tech, swim and outdoor science), times, locations, friend whom he is attending with and the carpool situation. It is color-coded and nothing short of an organizational masterpiece! It's a Summer Camp Super-Matrix! Okay, that was then, now I am worried that I over programmed him and that he needs more downtown. Ugh! Does a mommy ever win?

I'm sure he'll have fun, but what happened to the days of summer of MY youth. I grew up poor, well not six people in a room poor. But we never went on lavish vacations or went to summer camp. My parents grew up in the Philippines - summer camp? When you are not working on a farm or in school, you go to the beach, stay inside and hang out. So what did I spend my childhood summers doing? You know it, we stayed inside our one air-conditioned room during the heat of the day and then spent the rest of the day in the New York city streets. We played stickball in the street, kick the can, and opened up the fire hydrant. The rule was " come home when the street lights come on". Wow, imagine raising your kids today with that freedom?? It sounds like a cliché now, doesn't it? Wow, I sound old.

As a child, I never knew any different. I thought camp was a thing rich kids, the Paris Hilton's of the world- got to go to somewhere in the woods. It was not something for normal kids, much less kids whose parents never even heard of summer camp. I'm sure this summer will be great. I suppose margaritas help...and getting to watch my kids enjoy the opportunities I never had.

As the song goes, "It's summertime and the living is easy...” especially with the aid of my summer camp super-matrix. I hope its worth the effort.

Going on a Book Hunt!

I read books occassionally to my daughter's pre-school class. Kiley and I head to our neighborhood public library and try to find books that are not part of the classroom. We love to choose the books together - we'd be there for days if she let me.

This is the list from Friday's visit. I am partial to stories that are untraditional, from kids of other cultures and ones featuring girl-power. I ran short on time, so these books are from our home library. Some were bigger hits than others for the 4 year old set - and yes, I read them ALL in one sitting. And yes, I needed a venti-sized iced-tea afterward.

Smelly Socks, by Robert Munsch
(One of Kiley's all-time favorites, amybe because she loves knee-high socks.)

Ten Timid Ghosts by Jennifer O'Connell

Wash Your Hands by Tony Ross
(good for explaing about germs)

If You're Happy and You Know it by Jane Cabrera
(great for sing-a-longs and Beautifully illustrated)

Stand Tall Molly Lou Melon by Patty Lovell
(funny! and about being proud when you are tiny)

The Recess Queen by Alexis O'Neil
(Focused on bullying and beautiful illustrations. The kids loved it and we talked about good and bad behavior on the play ground.)

We're Going on a Bear Hunt by Micheal Rosen and Helen Oxenbury
(By far the class favorite! A classic, the boys especially LOVED it! It is a great repeater story and perfect for having kids participate.)

Take me out to the ballgame...all in pink!

I love baseball games in the summer - hot dogs, popcorn and beer. What can be better?

We headed to see the San Jose Giants the other night. My son donned his baseball jersey, hat and glove. My daughter got dressed and choose tights, pink dress and high tops. Vive le diference!

Top 10 Reasons I’m jealous of women who work

This post evolved from a comment that I was writing for a post on the mommy wars on the Silicon Valley Moms Blog. Even though I had already commented, I just couldn’t help myself--I had to comment again, especially after reading other people’s commentary and the recent I Surrender post.

At the risk of pouring fuel on the fire, I thought I'd share a rarely articulated perspective in the mommy wars. Even though I made the SAHM choice (and would still make that choice today), here's 10 reasons I find myself envious of women who work outside the home:

1. At some point during the day you can go to the bathroom by yourself.

2. Your probably clean your house less because it's not getting messed up all day when your kid is at daycare. Or maybe you have a nanny and she cleans for you.

3. For the same reason above, you probably create less garbage (at home anyway) and don't have to pay for a bigger garbage cart for all those diapers.

4. You get to exercise your brain.

5. You have a reason to buy nice clothes.

6. You can call in sick and leave your kid in day care and have the day to nurture yourself (or go to the Blake Lewis Parade as one of my friends did).

7. You get to eat lunch with other adults and have adult conversations.

8. You probably at some point in your commute spend time in the car alone and can listen to something other than kid’s music, like hard rock or Howard Stern.

9. You haven’t compromised your career by opting out of the workforce.

10. You get PAID.

Having read this in review, I probably come across as a little bitter. I don’t know if it’s that or if it’s just that the grass is ALWAYS greener. We give up a lot for our children whether we stay home, work outside the home, or fall somewhere in between.

On The Road Again

CAR TRIPS with KIDS was the featured topic of one of my favorite e-newsletters from the Sesame Street Workshop. I used to LOVE road trips. Remember when you and your favorite road trip partner, jumped in the car with a back pack of clothes, some snacks and a map of some kind. Those were the days, when you could be spontaneous and decide in the morning that you wanted to be in Las Vegas that night to put a bet on your favorite basketball team. Boom, you were there in no time and your only worry was whether to stop at “In-and Out Burger” or to try one of those random diners, like the one with the giant dinosaur and thermometeroutside it. Who eats there anyway?

Now every road trip is a carefully orchestrated drama. Here is my checklist for any trip longer than 2 hours:
1. 2 kids and 1 husband. – (You ALWAYS need as much support as you can get. I've had to do it alone once - never again!)
2. Snacks, something not too sugary! Who needs 2 kids bouncing off the walls at 70 MPH
3. Drinks, ice chest maybe
4. Portable DVD player What did people do without these?
5. Movies for the DVD player – some for a 7yr old and some for a 4yr old and 1 compromise movie that they both like.
6. Toys – Pokemon cards, Barbie dolls and any absolutely necessary stuffed animals
7. Coloring books and crayons
8. Magnet paper dolls - These work for about 20 minutes, but hey take what you can.
9. Wipes/paper towel for accidents
10. Pillow, maybe blanket
11. Music – mine and for the kids. Hip hop to do in-car aerobics with and something mellow to help when they are coming down from the snack induced sugar rush.
12. Special surprises, in case someone melts down and needs something to look forward to. (Essential to any trip longer than 4 hours)
13. A battalion of car games that the WHOLE family can play while I try not to run anyone over. We like rhyming games and finding VW Bugs.
14. Candy - for when nothing else works!

David Levin at Sesame Street has some great ideas for ways to have a road trip that doesn’t involve blood shed. I’ve tried most and they work.

But I need more ideas as we are about to head out on a 6-hour trip to Los Angeles for a weekend, where everything is at least an hour away. We've not even talked about how to prepare to have grandpa in the car too!

HELP!!

This post can also be found at my personal blog http://www.starfishcircle.com/xiaolinmama/

School Volunteer of the Year

Well, the word is out. I finally quit my job and am a mom "with more time". This translates into "available to volunteer for everything" according to my children, kid's teachers and school principals. While being available to "parent" in person more often was one of the goals for my leaving my last job, it was not the ONLY reason. I decided to be fundraising consultant for non-profits, among other things. Read my new blog www.starfishcircle.com. I've got to quickly close the floodgates on what is becoming my other full-time job.

First, I have to say I LOVE working in my kids’ schools. I love reading to preschoolers and love doing art in my son's second grade class. I look at it as a privilege to be able to do it and a gift to me when I am there. Since I've been "self-employed" (2 months) I've organized the school wide jog-a-thon, scooped at the ice cream social, chaperoned 2 field trips, coordinated decorations for another major school fundraiser, coached a soccer team and worked in a class room at least once a week. It's totally me, overcompensating for not being able to volunteer as much as I would have liked in the past year.

Today at 10:30 a.m., I got an email asking if I could help take kids to he library at 1:30 p.m. Where do I draw the line? I know that I can say no anytime, but I am now caught up being on the short list for all school emergencies. Aargh! Summer break is coming up - a break for us all.

Funny, a few months ago when I was horribly unhappy in a toxic job, I dreamed of spending more time with the kids. I know this is exactly what I wanted, just think I need to learn to how to accommodate this all without driving myself crazy. Have I lost myself in the mix? How do people work from home when parenting gets in the way of business? The balancing act of having it all has shifted and yet continues in a whole new way…

Parenting SOS

What book should I read, what class should I take, to help me cope with my budding two-year-old? I need a class I can make it to once and leave with one tip I can put to use immediately. I need a book that's a fast read (and I can keep it in the bathroom). Perhaps there exists a terrible-twos blog or support group? Anyone, anyone?

Boys Playing with Dolls

I love this little picture I snapped yesterday at Monica and Audrey's house. Every time we go there it's like a foreign enchanted land for Ry, with all the Cinderellas, dollhouses, and pink.

Klepto Mom?

I’m not a klepto. I don’t enjoy stealing. I don’t want to steal. I don’t even know I’m stealing. But here’s the thing: I have the darndest time remembering bottled water at the bottom of my grocery cart. It’s hard enough keeping your 21-month old from tearing every glass jar off the shelf in the condiment aisle or completely destroying the candy display. How can I possibly remember to tell the cashier: “Did you get the water?”

Yes. It’s happened. The first two times I went back in and paid for the water when I noticed in my cart. The third time, my son was throwing such a fit the idea of going back in the store was like entering the gates of hell itself. So I rationalized it like this: how many times have I asked them not to put my Real Simple on the conveyer belt because I don’t want it covered in mystery ooze. But it doesn’t end up in my bag, yet I paid for it. I probably only go back a third of the time I get ripped off at the grocery store. Last week it was an $11 colander, so I felt it was worth the price of gas.

So I could probably avoid all this by doing the green thing and not buying bottled water at all. But until I get my new water filtration system, I have a new plan to avoid being the next feature Oprah does on “moms that steal.” I now put the water in the cart itself, not in the bottom. I can’t tell you how many times a well meaning cashier says, “next time you can leave it at the bottom.” Normally, I just smile and say, “okay,” yet continue to do it my way.

But last week, this cashier was downright rude about it. I heaved the water onto the conveyer belt. She gives me this totally annoyed look and tells me next time to leave it on the bottom. So, I say, “we’ll that doesn’t really work for me, I’ve walked out too many times without paying for it.” Did she change her tune? Did she seem to appreciate my honesty? No, she gave me another dirty look and litterly huffed. Maybe I caught her off guard, maybe she didn’t know what to say, but next time at that store, I just might do as she says and put it at the bottom . . . and forget it.

The mom of THAT kid.

It happened today. I become THE MOM of THAT kid.

The kid at music class throwing himself on the floor in tantrums. The kid ruining sweet lullaby time with whiny demands. The kid at the park shrieking like a pterodactyl because he wants to go down the slide, but doesn’t want other kids to line up behind him. The kid with alligator tears running down his face and snot dripping from his nose.

The mom who sighs in desperation. The mom who watches the kid writhe in the bark under the swings while calmly (or so it seems) drinking her grande-two-pump-soy-no whip-cinnamon dolce latte. The mom that EVERYONE is staring at, thinking does she give him too much sugar? Does he not get enough sleep? What is her problem?

Well, he’s 22-months-old. The twos are approaching. They don’t call them terrible for nothing, I guess. As he falls asleep on the ride home, I call my husband. “We need to take some parenting classes or read some books, cause I’m about to quit this job.”

A Dream Come True

I have great news to report: The sippy cup of my dreams exists!!! The Nalgene Grip-N-Gulp (NGG) is everything that I had hoped and imagined a few months ago. I love the description of the bottle on the company's official website:

"We’ve taken on Everest. Now we’re ready for toddlers! Nalgene containers have stood up to some of the worlds most extreme conditions. Small potatoes compared to small children. The new Nalgene Grip'n Gulp™ is tough enough to survive being thrown from a moving minivan, spill proof enough to compel parents to blame the rug stains on the dog, and odor proof enough to allow leftover milk to go undetected under the couch for months. Most importantly, its a great way for little kids to reach new heights."

The first time I spotted the NGG it was in the cupholder of an SUV parked at Jeeper's school. A few weeks later we were brunching with friends and they gave one to Jeep to use for slurping his apple juice. I made an admiring comment and they told us we could take it home (it was no longer needed since their youngest is a very mature six year old who is so over sippy cups). After my brief but delightful experience with this hand-me-down version, which proved to be all that Nalgene advertises, I ordered one for practically every toddler I know. I recommend you do the same. (The best price I found was the SALE price at www.campbound.com.) Happy sipping!